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youcancallmeelle · 7 months ago

Text

Are we on the same side?

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI!!!)

Word count: 8K

Pairing: Separated husband!Joel Miller x wife!reader

Summary: Joel and you are trialling temporary separation due to repeated arguments with one another after nearly twenty years of marriage.

He returns to the marital home to do you a favour, flirting ensues and the sexual tension gets out of hand because of course it does.

You may need some clarification on what you are…

AO3

You put up the hearts, and I'll put up both my aces Not very far apart Still on different pages

Before having kids, you used to take every moment of your life for granted.

You were just a kid yourself back then, when you had two babies with a boy who shared your class and you were so in love you couldn’t fathom a life without him. For years you were Mama, the person who fed them and changed them, bathed them and rocked them to sleep. You worked night shifts while the love of your life worked in the day, all so food could be put on the table and an apartment could be kept to keep you all warm and safe. It wasn’t until a few years ago when your kids gained their own independence that you slowly started to regain your own life back, now you were nearly forty and working a job that gave you more freedom even if the stress levels have gotten to you more than once and your marriage… well that’s a separate issue on its own.

You’d spent the morning doing things you wanted to, thanking whoever that your kids were teenagers who could do their own breakfast and helped with chores without coaxing. You’ve been to pilates and the salon and had your infills done, your nails a glossy shade of pillar box red in an almond shape and your toes the same colour. You’d even managed to grab a Starbucks and sipped it languidly as you people watched from the safety of your car, enjoying your chosen playlist on Spotify without the bluetooth getting hijacked. The icing on the cake though? The fact you got to shower at home without someone barging in to ask for foundation or to borrow your strapless bra or your new Adidas Superstars.

It’s mid way through Saturday afternoon that your relaxation comes skidding to a halt in the form of your jaded lover knocking heavily against the pane of glass on your front door, the irritating noise makes you scowl and you drag your feet to answer it.

You crack it open, familiar brown eyes stare at you and yours narrow back.

“What are you doing here?” You ask flatly, the male on the other side picks up on your terse mood and his shoulders rise defensively. If it wasn’t for the little disagreement you’d had a few days prior on the phone over something as mundane as renewing car insurance, you’d have probably been more excited to see him but the way he can sometimes undermine you really grates on your nerves, you hate that he gets so swept up in work that he comes home and talks to you like he’s your foreman.

The minute he’d started questioning your choice like a fucking know it all, you’d merely hung up in irritation, refusing to answer when he’d called you back twice to apparently try and patch it over. You’d read the I’m sorry and I love you more than you’ll ever know text he sent after over and over, trying to figure out how things had come to this.

Nearly two decades together, married, with children and a house. You and Joel Miller have been torn apart by too many petty arguments that end with you sobbing and him walking away, you’d had to call it and come up with a possible solution with the marriage counsellor before it was too late.

He huffs and lifts his hand, showing you the toolbox you’ve seen many times with its contents strewn about somewhere in your house.

“A little birdie told me that you’re in need of a repair.” Joel’s lip twists at the side when your mood seems to perk just a fraction, there’s multiple things that need a little TLC right now but he can certainly worm his way back into your good books with a good old fashioned repair. You can only assume the little birdie was Sarah or Ellie.

You open the door fully and step backwards so all six foot something of him can meander through your front door, he wipes his feet on the welcome mat and toes his sneakers off, nudging them into the neat space where a tattered pair of Vans have been kicked off hard enough to scuff the wall and a pair of spotless ankle boots have been nicely placed beside your shoes.

“Where’s the babies?” He frowns, looking around and noticing the lack of noise.

You smile as you shut the door behind him as he refers to the girls as his babies, despite Sarah being eighteen and Ellie just turned fourteen.

With them both being girls, he’s soft anyway but Sarah is his first born who made him a father and Ellie’s still his tiny baby who he’s soaked up every second of when she was a newborn because you both knew you weren’t having any more children.

“At the movies together watching Twisters, Garret backed out on Sarah so Ellie went instead.” You inform him, sneaking an appreciative glance from the corner of your eye.

Joel makes a noise at the mention of Sarah’s boyfriend, never having liked him for whatever reason, you think it’s because they’re eerily alike so therefore clash.

“Little prick will be back hangin’ around here next week.” He grumbles, placing his toolbox on the bottom step.

“She’s just going through the universal thing of falling for a country boy.” You tease.

“Well as long as he don’t get her pregnant before graduation then we won’t have a problem.”

“She’s smarter than us.” You say.

“I know.” Joel agrees, you sneak one more glance at the country boy who got you pregnant before graduation.

He’s wearing slim fitting black sweatpants with a worn grey t-shirt with a faded motif on, the chain of his St Christopher barely noticeable beneath it and his thick rimmed glasses are perched on his nose.

You miss the hungry look he shoots you when you turn away, chestnut coloured eyes drifting low to the denim shorts you wear that he’s sure you’ve had since you were in your twenties. They fit snug and are contoured perfectly to the shape of your ass, your cheeks barely peeking out. What really makes his dick hard is the fact you’re wearing one of his sweatshirts, an old Dallas Cowboys one that you’ve always been particularly fond of.

“Nice flowers. Who got ya those?” He nods with a smirk towards the vase on the side table that’s filled with blooming peonies and baby’s breath.

The beautiful arrangement of flowers had arrived the morning after your petty argument with Joel, a gift from the universe if you will when you needed something bright and blooming to drag you out of the despair you were frantically becoming encased in.

“Oh.” You hum and feign ignorance, reaching out to gently touch the edge of a baby pink peony. “Just a friend.” You smile vaguely, Joel rolls his eyes. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“A guy sent them?” He presses, shifting his weight, your grin turns devious.

“Mmm.” You coo, feeling thrilled when that lick of annoyance flickers across your husband’s face at your flippant tone.

“Who?” He grins back.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come on, I just wanna talk to him, I wanna know why he thinks it’s okay to send my wife flowers.”

“Ex wife.” You snort, Joel glares at you.

“We’re separated, not divorced. Y’know what, we’re barely even separated.” He disagrees, you bite the inside of your cheek in amusement.

“Apparently you’re here to fix my shelves and you’re doing a whole lot of yapping, very unprofessional of you.” You goad, stepping backwards when he begins to saunter towards you with a certain look in his eyes.

“I’ll fix your shelves, I’ll fix anythin’ you want.” Joel mumbles, stalking you.

“Big promises.” You taunt, lifting your chin defiantly. His hands grasp your waist, pulling you to him and you let him, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck.

You love this, the playful behaviour and flirting since you decided to live apart for a while. It feels new and exciting, a rush that you felt when you first got together as youngsters just before your world flipped and you were pregnant before your frontal lobe had developed.

He smells delectable, you can’t stop yourself from nosing at his bearded jaw where his cologne is the strongest. Joel’s throat bobs, his fingers drift upwards under your borrowed sweatshirt to feel the bare skin between your shorts and bra.

As his structured jaw slides across yours and his nose just barely brushes your own, you feel his breath hit your lips and you know he really wants to kiss you but is waiting for you to make the first move.

You want to, you really do but you’re scared of falling into a false sense of security when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your underlying problems that the marriage counsellor suggested needed to be covered before you could get back on track.

Joel enjoys the way your head fits against his collarbone, loves the sweet smell of your hair and skin.

“Fix my shelf.” You huff into his skin as you retreat, he sighs deeply but picks up his toolbox and begins to follow you up the stairs with his eyes glued to your backside.

It almost feels strange for Joel to be back in your shared bedroom after three weeks away, he hasn’t been back for any extra clothes or personal items. If he’s come over to see the kids, then he’s stayed downstairs or in the garden with them.

Everything looks the same which is a strange observation given that really you’ve barely been apart for any time at all but it’s comforting to be back.

The bed is made in its usual dress up of plain white sheets with useless throw pillows stacked neatly, there’s a pile of clean laundry resting on your vanity chair but also clothes tossed on the floor where you’ve been indecisive.

Joel whistles when he sees the closet door open and the fallen shelf leaning against the door, there’s a scrape on the inside wall where it’s collided and taken the paint off. It looks like a fairly simple job, the wall plugs have probably come loose over time and needed replacing, it’s not as if IKEA is known for making indestructible furniture.

“You want the step ladder?” You question as he surveys the situation, rubbing the wall with his fingertips to see if the scrape will alleviate some.

“I think so.” He replies. “They in the garage?”

“No, Ellie’s room, she was trying to hang some fairy lights earlier but only got halfway before she threw a fit about the command hooks.” You chuckle, wandering off to go retrieve them for him, already certain he’s made a note to finish the job for her before he leaves.

When you get back, he’s got some tools ready, his drill in hand already. He steps onto the bottom rung of the step ladder, groaning as he stretches.

You observe for a moment, knowing it irks him, he hates being watched on a job.

“Jesus, it’s fuckin’ dusty up here. You’re a terrible housewife, neglectin’ your duties.” Joel pokes, knowing you won’t take a blind bit of notice.

“You wanna know why we really separated? Because you neglected your duties as a husband to satisfy your wife.” You reply easily, Joel chuckles and looks down at you.

“Oh spare me the dramatics, you’ve never been unsatisfied by me in your whole entire life.” He sings, infuriatingly he isn’t wrong.

“I’m telling the kids you were being sexist to me.” You threaten, chewing on a sinister smile. “Ellie will beat you up.”

“She won’t.” Joel grins, you mumble out a complaint. “She’s a daddy’s girl, maybe try your luck with Sarah, I’m sure she’d give me a lecture.” Not that you think he needs one, he’s the biggest supporter of you and his girls.

“They’re both Daddy’s girls, the little traitors. Nine whole months carrying them and giving birth after what felt like days and days with no fucking pain relief and this is the thanks I get? Not to mention my nipples being sucked raw.” You grumble to yourself, kicking some laundry into a pile at the side of the wall, Joel makes you jump when he groans suddenly.

“Just sayin’ but your tits were amazin’ when you were breastfeedin’ - shit, they’re still fucking phenomenal.” He sighs dreamily, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you were so hot carryin’ my babies, I’d have kept you pregnant if I had my way.”

You bite your cheeks to hide the satisfaction that your husband still wants you.

“You can’t say stuff like that to me anymore.”

“Why? We separated or somethin’?” Your husband frowns comically. “Show me your tits.”

“No.”

“Come on, just one.” He grins boyishly. “The right one is my favourite.” You stick your middle finger up at him.

“Asshole.” You sniff, walking back to lay on the end of your bed.

You pick up your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook posts made by the PTA at the girls school while Joel complains about wall fixings or something equally as dull.

In the end, you get bored and toss it away, instead opting to enjoy the eye candy in the form of a senior (essentially) gentleman on a stepladder cussing about how IKEA can suck his balls.

“Piece of fuckin’ shit!” He complains when the shelf slips again in your closet, he takes a calming breath and contains his frustration, you snicker at him. “How did this even break, sweetheart?” Joel huffs, changing out for a larger wall plug.

“Dunno, it just did.” You answer vaguely, looking at your ceiling.

“Bullshit.” He quips. “Did you put too much shit on it?”

“No.” You hum, shaking your head.

“You’re a liar.” He states plainly, equally unamused. “What did you put on here that was so heavy it collapsed?”

“Nothing, maybe it was just your shoddy workmanship to begin with.” You quip, not looking at him though you desperately want to because you can imagine the outrage on his face but you won’t be able to not laugh.

“It wasn’t me that put it up.” He glares.

“Sure, whatever you say.” You smile sweetly at him. It’s quiet for a minute, then Joel speaks again.

“You put filled shoeboxes up here, didn’t you? After I told you nothin’ heavier than a few sweaters? ” He asks knowingly.

Silence and then…

“Yeah.” You nod, he sighs loudly and turns back to drill in a screw now that he seems happy with the stability.

You watch him as he works, angling himself to see better and be able to use his drill at the correct angle.

The muscles in his back move and his shoulders look unbelievably broad beneath his t-shirt, it hugs his biceps and rides up when he shifts to show a slither of his boxers and bare back.

Your mouth almost waters and you press your thighs together but it obscures your view so you part them again to peek at him through the gap in your knees.

It’s well known that your husband is an attractive man, he always has been. You’ve watched him grow from the gangly teenager with a backwards baseball cap practically glued to his head you were first besotted with to the almost middle aged and greying man that now works before you.

Most nights when it’s dark, quiet and the house is still, you pleasure yourself beneath the duvet thinking of him, hips moving frantically against the whir of your vibrator. It can be any scenario of the long time you’ve been together, two decades holds enough memories to fill books upon books with pictures and anecdotes, some that you keep stored away just for you.

Sometimes you dream about the three day honeymoon in Nashville you had when your parents forced you to get married before Sarah was born, back when you first lived in Arlington in a shitty apartment you could barely afford with you both working instead of attending college. Then there was that night just under four years later with sex so explosive that you’d had the fleeting thought you’d immediately gotten pregnant again, only to actually find out you’d been right two weeks later when you’d presented Joel with yet another positive pregnancy test before twenty five.

You chew your lip, lashes fluttering and you’re sure he notices you ogling him in the mirror that puts your reflection in his eye line by the smirk you see.

God, he pisses you off so much sometimes. He makes your cunt wet and your teeth grind all at once, you never knew that was possible.

Rolling off the bed and onto your feet, you casually turn so that your back is to him on the ladder but you’re in the perfect position in the reflection of the mirror in front of him. He doesn’t notice at first over the sound of the drilling but when it stops and he goes to test the stability of the shelf, he freezes and the arm holding his drill drops limply to his side.

He sees you begin to strip down in the mirror, shimmying your shorts down and then yanking off your oversized sweater. Joel freezes, gulping when you turn away to unclip your bra, the expanse of your back is smooth and if he thought your backside looked good in those shorts, the high cut panties you’re wearing hit on a whole other level.

“What are you doin’?” He asks when your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, they flex within the material and you peer over your shoulder at him, big doe eyes the opposite of fucking innocence.

“Just taking a shower, I’m filthy.” You titter, holding his piercing gaze through the mirror.

“Funny, you’ve done nothin’ but sit on your pretty little ass and watch me inhale dust that’s been here for the last fifteen years.”

“Well, you could always join me.” You shrug, finally slipping your underwear down your thighs, Joel’s mouth goes dry. “Only if you want to, of course.” You beam at him and then sashay away into the en suite, Joel’s resolve breaks very quickly (immediately actually) and he’s yanking off his glasses and tossing them onto the dresser and plucking his t-shirt over his head in an instant.

Maybe the solution is to fuck it out and he’ll gladly go as many times as needed, you always did need to be fucked hard when your attitude started to test him.

The shower has been switched on and you’re naked under the stream as he finishes yanking both his socks, sweatpants and boxers off. He admires you through the glass, kicking his clothes into a messy pile before climbing in there with you, the air tight and hot.

His big hands enrobe you from behind, long dexterous fingers gripping at your waist and pawing at all the exposed skin it’s been weeks since he’s seen.

You tilt your head back from the water, resting it against his shoulder and pushing back into him, holding onto his forearms and digging your nails into his flesh.

“Look who couldn’t resist, you bad boy. Whatever will the therapist say?” You mock, pouting those pretty lips.

“You’re a goddamn tease, you know that?” He growls, nipping at your jaw and earlobe, holding the weight of your breasts in his hands.

“If you say so.” You breathe sexily, dragging him by the back of his neck to meet your lips in a hungry kiss.

His cock is trapped between his soft stomach and your lower back, smearing a pearlescent gleam as he anchors himself to you.

You moan into his mouth when he teases your nipples into tight peaks, plucking them and roughly cupping your tits.

“I want to lick your pretty little pussy until you cum on my face.” He admits into your mouth, barely letting you breathe past the fierce kisses. Your clit throbs at his confession and you grab hold of his hand, guiding it down your body to between your legs where he teases your lips.

Your back arches prettily into him, the free hand holding your breast now grips your throat, forcing you to tilt your head back.

“Ah.” You whine when the roughened pads of his fingers stroke your clit. “Mmm, there.” You hum, pushing into his fingers. He entertains you, dipping his fingertips to your honey slick hole and back up again, dragging the gooey wetness to smother on your clit until it’s hardened and desperate to be sucked on like candy.

“Bet you could cum like this.” He says gruffly, beard scratching at your shoulders and neck, wherever he greedily kisses your dewy wet skin.

“Wanna cum on you, Joel.” You whine, reaching behind you to grasp his thickness. He ruts into your hand, smearing more stickiness that you want to lick away from his tip.

You absorb him similarly to a plant and the sun, the bulk of his form plastered against your back so big and strong, skin sun kissed and warm. He’s safety to you, every single thing about him, everything familiar that you know.

“Needy little slut.” He whispers, your core becomes aflame at the debauchery, you nod in confirmation. “Oh, you agree? You just need a cock to sit on and your shitty attitude will be right as rain?”

“Only your cock.” You whine, flicking your thumb against the underside of him, tracing out a vein you’re very familiar with.

“Yeah, baby. Only mine, I know, I know.” His sweet breath is hot against your cheek as he pants, fingers strumming your clit faster. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Show me how good you can be?” You hum and nod, knees almost buckling, this is the fastest you’ve approached orgasm since being separated.

“Gonna cum, Joel.” You say huskily, hips bucking into his hand until it’s only been two seconds since your revelation and you’re cumming - wet and sticky - into the palm of his hand. His mouth is on yours, you’re moaning and moving erratically, Joel’s cock is dribbling a steady stream of pre cum into your hand where you’re gripping his shaft.

“Sexy little thing.” Joel husks into your ear, biting the lob as you heave for air, slowly undulating your hips as you ride the last wave of your peak against his hand. “Good girl.” He praises, taking his hand away when you weakly push at his wrist. He lifts it in front of you, fingers webbed with your cum, runny and clear. You catch his hand, slipping his index and middle finger into your mouth, sucking them clean as he groans and ruts into the hand still around him, the cool palladium of his wedding ring bumps against your cupids bow as you suckle.

You slip his fingers out of your mouth, letting them drag down your chin and back to your tits. “Fuck me.” You demand haughtily, eyeing him.

“I’ll fuck you, baby.” He confirms, softer than you were expecting, he meets you for a kiss and you suck on the plumpness of his bottom lip before turning away. Joel slicks his hair back under the spray and then begins to trace out the curve of your waist and the fullness of your ass, you feel his hand bump you knuckle first where he fists himself to complete mast and then he runs the length of himself through your pussy, hissing at the wet heat that awaits him but he pauses, retracting back unsure.

“You want me to wear a condom?” And you freeze, looking over your shoulder in distress.

“Have you been with other people?” You frown, your heart suddenly sinking into your stomach, making your guts twist with nausea. Joel frowns down at you, blinking away the water clinging to his lashes.

“Course not.” He answers, you relax. “…Have you?” Joel presses.

“Absolutely not.” You state firmly. “So get inside me.” You demand, turning away to place your hands on the tiles. You feel him press kisses to your shoulders as the tip of his cock brushes your ass again, you sigh and push back into him. “Please, baby.” You beg, feeling him smile into your skin.

“I think you’re tryin’ to baby trap me.” Joel says playfully, pulling your hips against him so that your back arches just so.

“You had a vasectomy after Ellie, idiot.” Your hips press insistently against him and you reach back to tug at his length, your fingers barely wrapping around the girth. “Now get your dick inside me, Joel.” You demand.

“Yes, ma’am.” He leans down a fraction and slicks himself up, the entire length of him slipping against your pussy lips once more and nudging your clit. “Fuuuuck.” Joel groans when he does it again and the head of him catches on your hole, slipping inside just a fraction.

“Oh my god.” You pant, your forehead dropping to rest against the cool tiled as he fills you completely. It’s a tight fit, after over three weeks of no sex with him your body is near to combustion.

You wonder if the lack of sex has attributed to the arguments, both working long hours at your respective jobs and not having the time for the normal intimacy you usually share.

This is exactly what you’ve been wanting in the weeks you’ve been apart; a carnal desire to have your husband close.

His grunt in your ear sets something off in you, the relief he feels directly felt by you.

You whimper at the first thrust after he’s settled within your velvet lined canal, body pressed between him and the wall.

It won’t ever be like this with anyone else, you think to yourself - the way Joel fits within you, around you and alongside you.

“Like that.” You pant, pressing back. He grunts into your ear in such a manly way that you reach back to yank on his hair, he growls into your neck and fucks into you harder.

He’s so strong it makes your head spin, this gorgeous man with a heart of gold that loved you when you were young, married you and gave you two babies, helped you create a comfortable life for your family.

It’s overwhelming; that sensation of being full and enveloped within the heat of his radius.

You’ve missed everything about him; his smell, his voice, the way he tastes. You’ve ached for the things you’ve harmlessly bickered about before, such as underwear outside of the hamper, smudges of toothpaste on the bathroom mirror after a deep clean, crumbs on the island.

You don’t mean to let your emotions get the best of you but your eyes well and your throat tightens, your chest constricts something fierce.

The sob that erupts out of your chest can’t be disguised by the noise of the water hitting the floor at your feet or the soft groans of Joel, not the breathless whines from yourself either.

It’s a raw noise, jagged at the edges so much that it hurts leaving your throat.

“Honey?” Immediately Joel has stopped moving and withdrawn, spinning you around to cup your cheeks. “Why are you cryin’?” He presses insistently, thumbs trying to swipe away your tears. Your cheeks are aflame, embarrassed to have spoilt such an intimate moment after so long.

“I just - I just missed you.” You whimper, tucking your nose into his bicep. He cradles you to him softly beneath the spray, hushing you gently. This makes you cry more, thinking about how he’s held your babies like this; tenderly like they’re the most fragile beings made entirely of glass. “Everything feels wrong! And… and…” You sniffle wetly. “And I can’t sleep properly without you and your dumb old man snoring!”

“Oh, baby.” He chuckles into your hair.

“I don’t like the whole limited contact stuff either.” You mumble.

“Neither do I but it’s what was suggested and I think we need to try it, if we don’t like it then that’s a good sign.” He tries to pick your mood up, you pout and nod, leaning into his touch.

“I’m scared we won’t fix this and I’ll have to watch you start dating someone else.”

“I’m not gonna date anyone else, lady. I only want you, I’ve only ever wanted you.” He tells you.

“That’s not true.” You hiccup. “Brandi Neil wanted you and you were going to go to Homecoming with her.”

“Fuckin’ - that was literally over twenty somethin’ years ago and I went with you in the end!” He huffs indignantly. “Come on, let’s get dry and we can talk some more.” Joel guides you out of the shower with a gentle hand, turning off the water and handing you a towel. He leans over on more than one occasion to peck your lips, he smooths his thumbs beneath your eyes to wipe away the mascara that’s ran in the shower from the steam.

Once you’re both relatively dry, there’s an awkward shift in the air as you’re both naked still and Joel looks very much aroused, half hard cock swaying as he moves.

You saunter back to the bed, peering over your shoulder to see that you’ve captured his attention intently and he gulps as you climb onto the mattress, briefly resting on all fours for a split second, wet pussy drooling and exposed before turning onto your back.

You stretch out against the sheets not dissimilar to a renaissance painting, skin dewy with a look on your face that Joel wants to savour.

He climbs atop the mattress with you, pushing your thighs apart to settle between them. His warm mouth finds your nipples, sucking them and biting gently, you stretch and arch into him like a puppet on strings, the weight of your breasts fitting in each of his roughened palms. You feel the brush of his cock sway against your inner thigh and you buck against it, trying to encourage him closer, you huff when he ignores you in favour of worshiping your breasts.

“Calm down.” He murmurs. “We’ll get there.” He promises in that deep baritone which makes your purr. Joel shimmies down your body, palm dragging along your sternum and settling on your stomach where your fingers find his in a desperate squeeze.

The broadness of him fits between your thighs, one tossed over his shoulder to open you up. It’s erotic how he looks with his mouth on you, silver streaked hair visible and it’s not long before you’re clutching at it, writhing and moaning something pretty.

He parts your labia and licks slowly, using only the tip of his tongue, flicking over your clit and coaxing it from beneath the hood, sucking it between his lips and running his tongue repeatedly over it as you gasp and pull his hair, he suckles and there’s a lewd slurp thrown in there.

You purr like a kitten when his fingers enter you, moving steadily and brushing your G spot with such expertise that your eyes water. He knows what you like, having learnt your body and its responses for the better part of twenty years. A gush of slick aids the smooth movement of his ring and middle finger, stroking you from the inside until it proves too much to feel so far from him.

“Up, Joel.” You whine, tugging his tresses with more force than necessary which causes him to bite your inner thigh in retaliation but he allows himself to be malleable at the hands of you, kneeling between your legs and wiping the slick of you from his moustache and beard.

Rocking back onto his haunches, he fists his cock at the sight of you looking wrecked, that deep possessive part of him that’s smug because it’s him that makes you look like that; flushed and desperate.

“I won’t last long, honey.” He warns as he gets into position, wrapping both legs around his waist.

“Don’t care.” You state, reaching down to grab hold of him and guiding the blunt head of him through your lips, teasing yourself before you notch him just right. He eases himself in gentler than before in the shower, savouring that slow stretch as he feeds you himself until the wiry coarse hairs at the base are dampened by your wetness.

He drops onto his forearms beside your head, caging you in as he begins to move, the pendant from his St Christopher bumps your chin. You make pretty noises, clawing at his back in a way that leaves diagonal lines in various shades of pink and red. Chests pressed together, heart to heart, a rhythmic beat perfectly in sync.

“Tell me you love me.” You gasp.

Sitting up, Joel guides your leg over his shoulder, kissing your ankle bone, toying with the dainty gold anklet there that was an anniversary present some years ago. Your back arches against the sheets and you whimper sweetly at the new sensation of his hips fitting snuggly between your thighs and the weeping head of him nudging against the sponged wall of your cervix.

“I love you.” He groans, hands grappling your hip bones, forcing you closer like he can’t get enough, he looms over you. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

“I love you.” You pant back. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” His nose nudges yours, lips hungrily searching to slot against yours, puffy and wet. “You remember night one of our honeymoon?” You press, exhaling hot and tone wanting.

“Fuck yeah I do, fuck - “ His hips snap harder and you keen. “Pretty as a fuckin picture, still in your weddin’ dress on the floor.”

“Fuck.” You sigh, fisting at his biceps with slippery fingers. “Barely made it through the motel door.”

“You looked so fuckin good, honey. Havin’ my baby and ridin’ me on the floor.” His mouth slackens and his eyes slip closed, clearly deep in thought.

“I wanna do it again, Joel.” You gasp, fingers shakily circling your clit, hard and slippery.

“Yeah, baby. We’ll have another honeymoon, renew our vows first and everythin’.” He grunts.

“Baby.” You whimper in his ear. “I’m cumming, fuck me harder.” You say it breathlessly and all his carnal instincts take over, he fucks you that hard the headboard slams into the wall and takes a layer of sage green paint off. You’re loud through your climax, hips jumping and blood rushing through every vein like accelerant and fire.

“Jesus, I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” He groans, fingers moulding into the mattress, orgasm hitting so hard it makes the edges of his vision blacken. “Fuckin’ Christ.” You kiss his throat from your place beneath him, licking his jugular like the fucking minx you are, biting a tendon.

The white of his teeth is blinding as his lip curls into a near snarl, the pulse of warmth as he orgasms spreads within you and you pant, flushed from head to toe.

You kiss him as he grunts to completion, teeth clashing.

“You’re so good - so good.” You murmur into his mouth, frantically pushing his hair from his damp forehead. “You’re perfect.” You hum, enraptured.

“That’s you.” He smiles, lip curving against yours. “My pretty little wife.”

He strokes your hair and traces your features, eyes searching yours for something; hope maybe and you smile gently at him, pulling him down beside you once he’s withdrawn from the warmth of your body.

You rest against him, cheek to his chest to listen to the thrum below. You count his freckles and you trace his knuckles, you kiss his exposed skin over and over, you absorb as much of him as you can, feeling fulfilled for the first time in weeks.

Joel quietly observes you, you lean up on your elbow, dragging your manicured nails down the centre of his chest, he watches you with his arm behind his head. You pause and lean down to rest your chin on his sternum, blinking with those fluttery lashes that cast a shadow high on your cheekbones.

“Thank you for my flowers.” You say, he smiles softly and reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re welcome.” He whispers. “Wanted to do somethin’ nice for you, Ellie messaged me and said you’d had a tough week at work before that dumb fucking argument we had.” His long fingers comb through your hair, you rest easily on his stomach now, letting your eyes slip shut. “Wanna talk about it, baby?”

“Not really.” You huff. “I don’t want to unload my problems on you.” Joel sighs in exasperation at your vague answer.

“You can tell me anythin’, you know that.”

“We’re supposed to be taking time apart to stop the fighting, me unloading everything onto you isn’t going to help that.” You tell him.

“I think communication is exactly what we need.” He disagrees.

“You’re starting an argument now.” You chuckle with an eye roll, resting your cheek against his warm skin. He rolls his eyes back but doesn’t reply, continuing to stroke your hair, twirling some around his finger. “Joel?” You ask quietly.

“Hmm?”

“What if we can’t fix this?”

“We can.” He replies determinedly. “Nearly twenty years together and two kids later, I’m still so in love with you, whether we’re fighting or not.”

“I love you.” You murmur.

“I love you more.” He replies. “And I love our girls.” Joel adds.

“Me too.” You shift and snuggle into him, resting your head beneath his chin.

He holds you quietly, his touch a major comfort. You think back over the almost month it’s been since the marriage counsellor had suggested Joel move out of the martial house for awhile and stay with his brother, just so you could see if distance would be beneficial after the amalgamation of late working nights, the stress of parenting two teenage girls and life itself along with naturally getting older, you already dancing that line of perimenopause.

The space had made you realise you didn’t want to be without him and you’d both seemed to realise that you didn’t want to split up, you just needed to figure out a way to make things work.

“I think we should trial the time apart for another week and keep seeing the counsellor for a few more months.” You begin. “I’m gonna figure something out at work and reduce my hours, no more bringing it home with me.”

“That sounds good.” Joel murmurs, twisting a piece of your hair. “I’m goin’ to cut my days down to four, I think the finances will be fine and I want to be around here more for you and the girls.” He tells you, you nod slowly and blink away the tears that have suddenly come at the softness of his voice.

“I don’t care if we have to give up any extra luxuries, I just need you and our kids here happy.” You emphasise.

“That’s what I want too, baby. No more arguments over stupid shit, I’m sorry for bein’ so fuckin’ horrible lately.”

“I was horrible too, Joel.” You say. “We just need to keep working on things and if we feel an argument brewing then we should take a step back and reassess what’s caused it and find a solution just like the therapist says.” You advise. “Also we should make time for a date night every week.”

“Sounds good to me, baby.” Joel agrees, tugging you forward. “Kiss me, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He murmurs sweetly and you go easily, moulding yourself over him to meet him for a deep kiss that speaks a thousand words and apologies.

“Hey.” You say suddenly, eyes flitting over to the vanity where multiple photo frames sit. “You remember that trip we took to Seattle when the kids were little?” Joel follows your line of sight where they’re focused on one of the smaller frames holding two polaroids, one of Sarah and Ellie when they were eight and four, then another you’d taken of Joel on the pier with the wheel behind him you’d taken.

“Yeah.” He says fondly. “That was a great trip, the kids loved it.”

“What was that girl called that Ellie made friends with at the aquarium?” You smile as you think of a rambunctious Ellie, stomping around holding her Daddy’s hand in her tiny overalls, pointing at every fish she saw swimming ahead in the glass tunnels.

“Oh er… fuck. What was it? Little blonde girl with a braid.” He recites, thinking back almost a decade. “Abby!” He suddenly exclaims and you hum, nodding.

“That was it, they were so cute together watching the sea lion show, remember how jealous Sarah was that she thought all Ellie’s love was being stolen away.” You giggle, nuzzling his shoulder. “We should go again now they’re grown up.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you bask in the evening sun coming through the window behind the bed, coating you in warmth while you lazily make out with your husband like you used to as teenagers in his beat up truck.

You moan into his mouth when a hand sneakily skims your back and moulds to the fleshiest part of your backside. Sitting back to take a breath, you begin to kiss at his stubbled jaw, focusing intently on the grey patches and working yourself down his throat, to his clavicle and down his chest where he has yours, Sarah’s and Ellie’s name tattooed over his heart.

He props himself up in interest on his elbows when you make it to his sternum, nipping near his navel and dragging your nails through the smattering of hair below it until you reach his groin.

“You think you can go again?” You smirk at him, nipping his hip, sucking a small bruise into the skin above his pubic area.

“Keep doin’ that and I’ll be rarin’ to go.” He huffs, cradling the back of your head when you lick above his pubic area.

You move lower and his cock begins to swell against his thigh, his thighs tense when your hot breath drifts over his length.

Just as you’re about to drag your tongue over the flushed head of him, you hear a car skim across the gravel driveway and you both freeze.

“Shit, that’s the kids.” You panic, sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed to gather up something to wear. “Quick!” You urge Joel who looks equally as panicked as he yanks up his boxers. You find a long floral dress to throw on from the corner and manage to yank up the panties you were wearing earlier, the crotch becomes sodden with the semen but you ignore the uncomfortable wet feeling and try to fan away the flush on your cheeks as you watch your husband get dressed.

You’re both barrelling down the stairs just as the front door opens and you bump into Joel as you skid on foyer tiles, he steadies you as your kids stare back.

You and Joel try to act casual despite the feral things you’ve just done.

“You’re back early.” You squeak, very aware of your damp hair and smudged makeup.

It’s a mere second before your daughter’s come barrelling full force towards the apple of their eyes, pregnancy and labour be damned.

“Dad!” The girls squeal in unison, rushing to hug him. He wraps an arm around each of them, eyes slipping shut with contentment.

“Hi, my girls.” He sighs happily, nosing Ellie’s hairline and then Sarah’s.

“Missed you.” You hear Ellie tell him.

“Hi, mom.” You mock unseriously, crossing your arms.

“Hey, mom.” Ellie mocks devilishly, tilting her head back with the same teasing look her father possesses more often than not. She’s her father’s daughter, a carbon copy of him whereas Sarah is more like you.

“You have a good afternoon?” You ask when Sarah meanders her way into your orbit, wrapping her arms around your waist. She nods against you and you tuck some hair out of her face, she nuzzles into you.

“The movie was packed so we got frozen yoghurt and walked around Target instead, we got you some candy.” She says sweetly, rubbing her cheek into your collar whilst Ellie is resting her chin against Joel’s chest with her arms wound around his waist, whispering something that makes him chuckle and sway her from side to side tenderly.

She stares up at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon just for you, you’re certain she’d crawl into his rib cage and stay there if she could and you don’t blame her.

“Thank you, sweet girls.” You beam. “Hey, are you both in for dinner tonight?” You suddenly wonder.

“Yes, sir.” Ellie replies.

“I’ve got no plans.” Sarah shrugs.

“How about we Doordash something? Could eat it on the patio?” You suggest and Ellie cheers, Joel chuckles into her hair.

“Even Dad?” Sarah hesitates as she asks, looking at you hopefully. Your heart breaks, Joel staying away had some serious effects in the first week even though they knew you weren’t going through a divorce and trying to fix things. Ellie acted out at school and Sarah shut herself away, both missing their father’s presence at home even though they saw him most days after school and on weekends if they weren’t out with friends.

You’d never stopped them seeing him and wouldn’t dare to even if things were irreparable between you.

“Of course.” You answer Sarah, Ellie looks between you and Joel curiously, her eyes narrow when she sees him smiling softly at you and clocks you blushing.

“Whatcha both been doing?” Ellie asks slyly.

“Hanging out, your Dad fixed the shelf for me.” You tell her nonchalantly over Sarah’s head. “So uh.. which one of you ratted on me for breaking it?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about, man.” Ellie sniffs, you tug the end of her ponytail.

“Mmm.” You murmur, unconvinced. “Go get changed into something comfy and have a think about what you fancy for dinner.” You order, nodding towards the stairs.

“Race ya!” Ellie bellows suddenly, pushing Sarah into you to get a head start.

“Hey!” Her older sister shouts, barrelling after her while you sigh and head towards the kitchen, the peace and quiet officially gone.

Joel gives you a flirtatious look and your heart jumps, your chest warms as do your cheeks.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You demand, pushing his face away in the opposite direction. He chuckles and grabs your wrist, using it as leverage to pull you to him.

“What? Like I want to eat you?” He murmurs lowly, you hum affirmatively. “Maybe I do.”

“That could be arranged.” You whisper, he takes you back into his arms, walking with you until you hit the edge of the kitchen island. You pull him into a kiss, dragging your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck.

He growls lowly and hoists you up onto the surface, stepping between your legs, running his hands up and down your parted thighs.

“The kids are listenin’ to us.” Joel whispers into your ear when he pulls away, nodding outside of the kitchen entryway where you realise you didn’t hear them run all the way to the top of the stairs.

“No, we’re not!” Sarah has the audacity to yell with offence, you giggle into Joel’s t-shirt.

“Get changed before I make your Dad cook his famous spaghetti surprise dinner tonight instead of getting take out!” You holler back.

“That was one time.” Joel complains under his breath.

“Make us a sister.” Ellie shouts from halfway upstairs.

“No chance! Dad got snipped after you anyway, he said you were more than enough trouble and you were barely out the womb!” You shout back, cackling when you hear both her and Sarah gag fiercely.

“It’s true!” Joel adds. “I had frozen peas on my crotch for days!”

“Gross!” They both exclaim.

That night, you sit on the patio furniture, with your husband and children, your feet cradled in his lap with glasses of wine and takeout with quiet music playing from Alexa, giggling and telling them stories of your teenage years and some of a time they’re too young to remember, planning a trip to Seattle they’re ecstatic over.

You’re certain that everything will be okay.

#the last of us #joel miller x reader #the last of us fic #ellie & sarah #ellie & joel #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller

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lua-magic · 1 year ago

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Jupiter and your divine blessings in your life.

Jupiter in first house.

Jupiter in first house could give you fat body, untill and unless you are fire sign.

It slows down your metabolism and makes you heavy.

You always have divine blessing in your life.

You are lucky for yourself and for others as well.

*Jupiter here gives you good intrest in study, good kids and good knowledge.

Jupiter in second house.

Jupiter here gives you large or joint family, good family savings, sometimes it is observed it gives you intrest in cooking or could make you good chef.

*Jupiter here helps you to fight your debt, and enimies. It gives you victory in court cases and good daily routine and good job as well.

Jupiter in third house

Here, Jupiter makes you matured in your thinking, good communication,good relationship with sibblings and neighbours.

Jupiter here, makes you kind soul who always wants to work selflessly.

*Jupiter here gives you divine relationship, and good business partners.

Jupiter in fourth house.

Jupiter is exalted here, here it gives you comfortable house, peace in home and good family and spiritual mother

You would be great in spirituality and good in occult and god loving person.

*Jupiter here always saves you from any unexpected circumstances and always maintains balance in your life .

Jupiter in fifth house.

Jupiter is now in house of king (Sun). Here, Jupiter makes you religious and justice loving person. You would be good in study and have lot of knowledge.

You would spiritual and love occult subjects.

*Here Jupiter increases your luck, You always recieve right guidence and good teachers in your life to save you.

Jupiter in sixth house.

Here Jupiter could increase your debt, if afflicted and also give you liver diesese.

You would be kind toward your enimies and extremely generous soul who loves to do charity and loves animals.

*Here, you would work alot for your religion or have a religious approch towards your work life

You remain in nice and comfortable job and there will be not much up and down in your work life.

Jupiter in seventh house

Something special about your marriage, either you get spiritual partner or you become spiritual after marriage.

Jupiter here could give you troubled marriage life. It won't let you enjoy luxury and pleasure of married life.

Here, Jupiter can give you late marrige also

But once, you are married it always saves your marriage.

Here Jupiter gives you good gains, good circle of friends and good name, fame and reputation also.

Jupiter in eighth house.

Here, Jupiter will give you good knowledge in occult and spirituality.

You always have blessing of Jupiter in your most critical stages of your life

There will be lot of transformations in your life, but you always get good guidence and teachers to help you.

*Here Jupiter could make you spiritual, and could take you away form your birth place and make you good meditator.

Jupiter here, tries to liberate you from all your karmic relationships and takes you towards liberation.

Person would be highly giving person who loves to give other people.

They are helpful and kind soul who enjoys isolation.

Jupiter in ninth house

Native would be highly religious and loves to follow the rules.

He/she could be good teacher and love to do short travels.

Here person could feel the presece of divine walking with the native.

Jupiter blessings will be always on the person and Jupiter will give person a pleasent and attractive personality.

Jupiter in tenth house

Here, native will be lucky for his or her work place and wherever native goes or joins that company would start progressing

Native would love to work in his/ her comfort zone and are really good teacher and counsellors

*Here native would get good family, good speech and good family savings.

Jupiter in eleventh house .

Native would alway get good network of friends who are highly intellectual and intelligent.

They would always help native in their gains.

*Native would be multi-talented and good in communication. Jupiter here gives good relationship with sibblings and makes native helpful.

Jupiter in twelfth house .

Here, Jupiter makes you good meditator and good in spirituality.

Native might marry outside their religion or go in foreign country to work.

Jupiter gives you good gains in foreign land or from spirituality and meditation.

*Here native will always have home to live and love his religion alot and love to follow the rituals of religion.

You will find alway peace when you connect to the god.

#spirituality #occult #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astrology

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wolfpants · 9 months ago

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some fics I have been enjoying recently - wolf's reading list: june favourites 📚

As June draws to a close, I'm thrilled to say that both my reading and writing have picked up significantly after nearly a year of poor focus and general scatterbrained chaos. Hurrah! It's been a joy to ease back into the fandom, especially with so many wonderful fics to explore. Here are some I've devoured over the past month or so!

9 to 5 📆

E, HP, Drarry, 2.5k | @oknowkiss

Draco Malfoy hates Mondays.

“The Ministry will be breached. You’ll be caught in the crossfire.” Potter smiles crookedly. “Wrong place, wrong time. Funnily enough.” Draco swallows. “Hilarious.” “I’m keeping you here. For now.” Potter says. “Alive.”

Crush 🌶️

E, HP, Drarry, 8.2k | @citrusses

Harry Potter has a secret admirer. Harry's pretty sure that if this person figures out what an idiot he's capable of making of himself, they'll lose interest. So he turns to Draco Malfoy, reformed nemesis and stylish lawyer, for guidance.

“Malfoy,” Harry says. “Kiss me.” Malfoy winces. “Stop calling me that.” “Oh,” Harry says. “Sorry. Kiss me… Daddy?” “You absolute, clinically hopeless, fucking moron.”

Find New Ways 🫧

M, HP, Drarry, 3.6k | @skeptiquewrites

First comes marriage.

"We're married.” Draco trailed fingertips in the water, watching the little eddies in their wake. Harry's fingers curved around his ribcage. “We are.” The feeling in Draco's chest was too weighty for words, but he tried. “You’ll make a good husband.” The question of whether Draco would was outstanding.

Know Your Enemy 🗡️

E, HOTD, Daemon/Aemond, 2.4k | memequeen1127

Daemon follows Aemond after he storms out of the feast.

It is quite enjoyable, Aemond showing how unaffected he is by his nephew’s attempts to hurt him. He feels a thrill from emulating his uncle’s easy power. It’s the best outlet for his desire he’s found today. If Aemond can’t fuck him, then at least he can be him.

like some small animal that only comes out at night 🚾

E, HP, Drarry, 943 | @maesterchill

Unspeakable Malfoy and Auror Potter hook up in the bathroom at a Ministry charity event.

“Meet me in the gents,” Potter instructs, his whisper barely audible over the bustle around us, but so authoritative and unambiguous that it’s all I can do not break into a run.

Twenty-Two Cards 🃏

(Series) E, HP, Drarry, 108k | peu_a_peu

Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case. (plus more!)

"Only one bed," Harry observed. "Guess you're on the floor, then," Malfoy said, throwing his cloak on it. "You're not even going to offer to share?" "Fuck off," Malfoy said, and then proceeded to use all the hot water for his shower. Harry resigned himself.

your braids like a pattern 🌳

E, HP, Drarry, 31.1k | @hoko-onchi-writes

Harry runs a camp. Malfoy is the new counsellor, and he's driving Harry to the brink of insanity.

“Why do you keep bothering me? Coming back and talking to me? I’ve been nothing but an arsehole to you. And you—you keep coming back.” Harry doesn’t mention that Malfoy is eye-fucking him on a regular basis because he doesn’t need to open that Pandora’s box. Not right now. “Oh, you are an arsehole. But I’m mercilessly fucked up, and I find it so endearing.”

That's all folks! I'll try and make this a regular thing at the end of every month. What should I read next? Recs always welcome! 💖

#wolf's reading list #hp recs #drarry #drarry recs #hotd #hotd fic #daemon/aemond #daemond??#drarry fic #drarry rec #draco/harry #harry/draco #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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queenshelby · 6 months ago

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Daughter Dearest (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

The next day, Cillian went to see his counsellor, the same woman he had been seeing every fortnight for the past two years, which is also when he had started marriage counselling with your mother.

Enduring three years of loveless marriage had, of course, taken its toll on him, but now he had a different problem all together as, within a span of just seven days, he became somewhat infatuated with you.

"Cillian," greeted the counsellor, opening the door to her office, and gesturing him inside.

"Niamh," Cillian greeted, as he walked past her and into the room, taking a seat on the worn brown leather couch, facing the armchair where the counsellor sat.

Niamh was a small, bird-like woman, with blonde hair perpetually pulled back into a messy bun and wire-framed glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose. She was in her sixties and had a kind, open face that put people at ease, and Cillian had always found her to be a source of support and guidance, especially during difficult times in his life.

"How are you doing today, Cillian?" Niamh asked, setting down her pen and notebook.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes.

"Okay, I think," he began, before diving straight in. "But, to be honest, Niamh, I'm just... confused and I need some fucking guidance," Cillian said, his voice heavy with frustration and uncertainty.

"I see," Niamh said, nodding sympathetically. "Is it about what we discussed in our last session? Because, as I said before, at your age, not wanting to be intimate can be quite normal," Niamh said gently, referring to the fact that Cillian had lost his interest intimacy about three years ago when his marriage had become more than just slightly troubled.

He sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his tired face. "No, actually, it's not about that," he admitted, meeting Niamh's eyes. "It's about something else.”

Niamh raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, signaling for him to continue.

"It's my stepdaughter," he confessed, "I have some sort of feelings for her. Strong ones, Niamh. I didn't see it coming. It happened suddenly, and now, I don't know what to do about it," he explained and Niamh leaned forward in her chair, her gentle eyes meeting his.

"Go on," she asked quietly, her tone supporting and understanding.

"I am attracted to her, not just platonically or paternally. I want her sexually and I feel guilty about it. I have never felt this way about anyone while I have been married, you know, but now, every time I see her, I am overwhelmed by a need to -" Cillian broke off, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"It's okay, take your time," Niamh said gently, her words an invitation for him to continue when he was ready.

"Thank you," Cillian murmured, taking a deep breath. "It's just that, she's my stepdaughter and I know it's fucking wrong," he said, rubbing his hand over his face again.

"I assume that she is, uhm, your adult stepdaughter? Cliona? The one that has been living with you for a while?" Niamh asked after running through her notes, seeing that you had never been mentioned in these sessions before.

"Cliona?" Cillian gasped. "No, it's her twin sister, Y/N. She moved in with us a few days ago," he replied, his voice filled with a sense of urgency.

"I see, and you are finding yourself attracted to her?" Niamh inquired, jotting down his response.

"Yes and it's making things really complicated. I haven't made a move. But when I am around her, I can't help but feel...enticed, and it's consuming me," Cillian admitted, his eyes lost in thought.

A moment of silence passed between them before Niamh spoke, "It's important to remember that feeling attraction to another person is not a crime, but acting on them in this situation can be problematic and harmful," she said gently.

Cillian nodded, taking that in. "I know, and I don't want to hurt her or my wife for that matter," he said, sighing deeply.

"Good. That's a healthy perspective," Niamh replied, nodding encouragingly. "Now, let's explore this attraction you feel. What is it exactly about her that draws you in?"

Cillian sat up straighter, his gaze lost in thought as he tried to simply her feelings into words. "It's her intelligence and creativity I suppose. Her curiosity about the world is so captivating to watch," he explained, carefully choosing his words. "She's bold and there's a spark in her eyes - an unapologetic, fierce beauty - that I find incredibly attractive," Cillian confessed, his voice softening.

Niamh nodded, understanding the depth of his feelings. "It's understandable that you would be drawn to someone with those qualities. But as you already acknowldged, your feelings are complicated and can have serious consequences."

Cillian nodded solemnly, knowing that his feelings could potentially ruin his marriage and hurt his stepdaughter. "What should I do, Niamh? How do I move past this?" he asked desperately.

He was at a loss of what to do, and the guilt was consuming him.

"Firstly, Cillian, I want you to understand that it is completely normal to feel attracted to others, even if they are close to us." Niamh's voice was calm and reassuring, and Cillian felt a small sense of relief wash over him. "So, it is important to take a step back and examine your feelings. Acknowledge them, process them, but above all, do not act on them until you have had a chance to carefully consider the consequences."

"I understand," Cillian said, nodding his head solemnly. "But how do I move past these feelings? Because I just want them to stop." He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"I am afraid that you may not be able to ever truly move past these feelings," Niamh said gently. "And the only way forward, Cillian, is to address them, acknowledge them, accept them, and manage them."

Cillian took a deep breath, his voice filled with exhaustion. "Manage them, but how?" he asked, unsure of where to start.

"By making a conscious decision to distance yourself from her," Niamh replied, her voice firm but gentle. "Even in your own house, do not engage with her unless absolutely necessary. Refrain from spending any unnecessary time with her. Focus on nurturing your relationship with your wife and your daughter Sadie."

Cillian nodded slowly, taking in her words. "Alright, I will try and do that ," he said, committing to the plan.

Niamh then leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady on him. "It's important to note that these feelings won't disappear overnight, Cillian. It will take time and hard work to manage them, but it's imperative that you do, for your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of your loved ones."

Cillian took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "I know," he said quietly, feeling more resolved than ever to take control of the situation and do what was best for everyone involved.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you

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drugs-and-daddyissues · 4 months ago

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𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 ✔ Hii! I've seen your post and the idea of writing Johnny as a marriage counsellor. I thought, maybe you could write marriage COUNSELING with Johnny as your husband. You two haven't been doing well lately. Maybe like he's trying to fix it, but you got tired of trying on your own, so you eventually stopped and now he's trying to make it up to you and make you love him again.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 Months of drifting apart and arguments have your relationship hanging on by a thread. You're tired, but you just can't seem to let him go. That is, of course, until he feels how you're slipping away and panics. From that moment on, he promised to make you fall for him, like it was in the beginning.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 angst, mentions of alcohol/getting drunk

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 Johnny Depp x f! reader

You sat in contempt at the dining room table, looking over to the clock on the wall. 12:34 pm. He's still not home. You're not surprised- hurt, disappointed, but not surprised. You thought that maybe your husband would show up for dinner on your anniversary, but apparently you weren't that high on his priority list.

You sighed and stood up, beginning to put the food away that you'd spent hours so carefully making. Your mind wandered back to fonder memories of your time with Johnny, that's all they were now; a memory.

- 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 -

You unlocked the front door of your apartment, the one you and Johnny had saved up to buy. Giggling and kissing as you made your way through the door.

"Well.. This is it. This is the start of our life together." You whispered over to him, who had wrapped his arms around your waist, and was gently swaying you.

"Trust me, baby, this is only the start. I promise, give it a year or two, and this house will be filled with life. Maybe a few kiddos running around if you'd let me." He gently teased, kissing your cheek and squeezing you softly.

"Yeah, yeah, pipe down, Depp. We're not even married yet." You laughed softly, wrapping yourself up in his affection.

"No, not yet." He agreed, "But trust me when I say, I don't plan on wasting any time in making you my wife."

- 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 -

You sighed and grabbed the bottle of wine you kept in the fridge, popping it open and taking a sip. No night better than one like this. You just needed something, anything, to drown this ache in your chest. One sip turned into two, then two turned into five, and so on until you were properly buzzed. Enough to actually get a decent night's sleep.

You stumbled into the bedroom, quickly discarding your nice dress that you'd worn just for the occasion, and climbed into bed, not even bothering to take off the minimal makeup you'd put on.

- 𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕 -

It was well past 1 in the morning when Johnny returned, rubbing his eyes from tiredness, as he hung up his keys on the hook next to the front door. He turned on the light and went into the kitchen groggily, looking for a quick something to eat.

Even in his tired state, he took notice of the dinner that was wrapped up, the cake, the bottle of wine- What had he missed? He walked over to the dining room table before he kicked off his shoes, seeing the small envelope on the table, his name on the back with your handwriting.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he quickly tore open the envelope, being greeted with a "Happy Anniversary!" card. His heart sunk further in his chest as he opened it and read the little note his wife had written.

"Happy anniversary, my love! I know how hard you've been working recently, and I missed you dearly. I'm forever thankful to have you in my life.

Xo, your (Y/N)."

Shit. God, he was an idiot. He promised he'd be home early tonight, didn't he? And he couldn't even do that. He felt like the worst husband ever as he set the card down, turning the kitchen light off before setting off for the bedroom down the hallway.

He was quiet, in case (Y/N) was asleep, which he knew she most likely was. As soon as he opened the door, he sighed, seeing (Y/N)'s sleeping figure. As he got closer, simultaneously taking off his work clothes from the day, he could see how she was curled up, tear stains down her pretty face, and he felt awful.

He crawled into bed next to her, knowing that he had hell to make up for tomorrow. Right now, all he could do was hold her all night, hope that she felt her presence in her dreams.

- 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐕 -

You woke up the next morning to the scent of a warm breakfast filling your apartment. You yawned, rubbed your eyes, stretched, and got out of bed, putting your slippers on to go investigate the smell.

As you walked into the kitchen, you saw Johnny over the stove, making french toast. You furrowed your brows, a small frown pulling at your lips as you remembered the hurt he brought you last night.

He was the first to speak, "Hey, good morning, sweetness. You're um.. Up early. I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed." He said, his voice uncharacteristically soft as guilt chewed at him.

"Why? You clearly didn't care to come home last night." You said, still pouting. You were hurt and were going to make sure that he knew it.

He sighed as he finished making the french toast, putting it on a plate for you. "Baby.. Last night was.. God, I was an idiot. I'm sorry, love. I know we've been drifting as is, and I screwed up again. I should've been here, and I wasn't, and I sincerely apologize. Words just simply can't describe how sorry I am. But please let me make it up to you now. I still love you, sweetheart, more than anything, even if I've been doing a shit job at showing it."

You didn't say anything, just sitting down at the table as he put the plate in front of you. But your heart softened a bit when you saw that he put extra syrup on the food, just like you liked it.

He got on his knees in front of you, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. "I've been an awful husband as of lately, babe, but this is me promising that, from here on out, I will do absolutely everything to get our relationship back to the way it was before. If that means turning down projects to be here with you, or doing marriage counselling, or dressing up in a maid costume for a month.." He said, chuckling softly at his last remark, but his words were nothing but sincere, "Than I'll do it." He finished.

A small smile broke on your face as you ran his fingers through his hair. Even after everything, he was still yours and you still loved him. "Okay.. But this is your last straw. I mean it, John." You said seriously, making him take your words in. "Now get up, you look ridiculous."

He chuckled softly, grabbing your hand and kissing it before standing up. "Yes ma'am." He replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Your marriage was far from fixed, but at least to know that he was trying.. It was a step in the right direction.

┆𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓┆

𝐀/𝐍 I hope this was okay cuz I feel like I kinda fell off in the end 💔 I know this is kinda different than what you requested but I hope that's okay.

💌 taglist: @littlerobbinphantomhive19 @kittenlittle24 @ghsttk @trekkitkat @needz1nk @chronicallybubbly @romanoffthreal @mininiamh @amy-fontaine @bennwazzhere @iostparadise Thank you for your support 🤍

�� add yourself to my taglist here

#johnny depp love #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader #johnnydepp #johnny depp imagines #johnny depp x female reader #johnny depp #johnny depp x you #johnny depp angst #johnny depp fanfiction #johnny depp oneshot

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polutrope · 2 months ago

Text

Some Celeborn/Galadriel Headcanons

Wrote these as part of the 30-Character Study I'm doing for the @silmarillionwritersguild Jubilee Challenge on my Dreamwidth

Celeborn's Early Life and His Courtship of Artanis

Celeborn, second son of Galadhon, was born on the Great Journey by the mouths of the Anduin near Greenwood (then a much larger forest).

His mother was among those who forsook the journey with Lenwë before the crossing of the Misty Mountains. Celeborn followed his father and brother Galathil onwards, being kin of Elwë, but he never forgot the place of his birth where his family was divided. Regretting somewhat his choice, there was no question for Celeborn that he would remain in Beleriand after Elwë went missing.

Celeborn’s father Prince Galadhon was Thingol’s chief counsellor. While his elder brother Galathil took to a private, woodland life after the First Battle with his wife and their daughter Nimloth, Celeborn followed in his father’s footsteps, gaining much respect and influence in the court of Doriath.

He was sensitive to the needs and thoughts of others and had a gentle manner that put people at ease. For this reason, he often acted as an intermediary between Thingol and the Sindar outside Doriath who still called him King. Celeborn was highly respected among the Sindar, even those who dwelt in the north and did not acknowledge Thingol’s overlordship.

He enjoyed spending time with his brother’s family and being an uncle to Nimloth (and she loved him dearly), but Celeborn had no strong desire to marry or start a family of his own. While he had a few lovers over the years, he was very private about his romantic life and never led his lovers to believe he was interested in marriage.

With his approachable yet regal manner, grace, and handsome appearance, there was no shortage of people in Doriath and beyond its borders interested in marrying him. But he politely declined all such advances.

This all changed when he went with Angrod, who had just visited Doriath for the first time, back to Lake Mithrim as an emissary of Doriath. There he set eyes on Artanis for the first time and was struck dumb by her formidable intelligence and beauty. Literally, he did not say a word to her the whole time he was there. (He did manage to learn some things about her from Angrod, who promptly broke his confidence and told Artanis about the massive crush the Prince of Doriath had on her; but Artanis’ heart at that time was still heavy with grief and her thoughts could not have been further from matters of romance and she didn’t give Celeborn a second thought.)

When, some years (decades) later, Celeborn heard that Artanis would be visiting Menegroth, he got his act together. He would at least talk to her this time.

And he did! They had an enchanting couple of walks through the halls of Menegroth and in the surrounding forest, connecting over all sorts of matters of philosophy and politics, and found they shared the same witty sense of humour.

But it was not to last…. For almost as soon as she’d arrived in Doriath, Artanis made a connection with Queen Melian, spending all her time walking in the forests or locked away in a distant chamber of Menegroth, studying some secret arts. Soon, it was an open secret that the sister of Finrod had become the Queen’s lover. Well, Celeborn couldn’t compete with Melian.

When Artanis decided to dwell in Doriath for a time, Celeborn’s hope was renewed. Eventually, she stopped spending every waking moment with Melian. Celeborn would run into her in Menegroth’s library or in the gardens now and then, and they would talk for long hours and a friendship blossomed.

When the truth about the kinslaying at Alqualondë came out, Artanis became quite isolated for a time. There were those in Menegroth who did not conceal their distrust of her and hatred of her kin, even if she remained in the good graces of Melian and Thingol. Celeborn often visited her during this time and was a great source of comfort.

One day, Artanis confided to Celeborn that she had ended her physical relationship with the Queen. (At which Celeborn was astonished: she had ended it?) She had realised desire was interfering with her ability to enjoy the deeper emotional and intellectual aspects of the relationship. But she needed to take some time away from Menegroth to move on… so she was going to stay with her brother in the newly-completed Nargothrond for a time.

So Celeborn was once again left longing for Artanis’ affection, having made no progress towards confessing this longing to her — even though it was plain to most of Menegroth by then that he was smitten. They kept up correspondence by letters in the time she was away.

To Celeborn’s great relief, Artanis returned to dwell in Doriath after only a few years. Celeborn was terribly nervous about confessing his feelings for her, especially since he had grown to cherish their friendship and did not wish to lose it. But he would be a poor friend to continue to keep the truth from her: that he loved her.

So, not long after she’d returned to Menegroth, he invited her to walk to the top of the hill under which the city’s caves were delved. The trees were thinner there and the stars could be clearly seen. He asked her about her time in Nargothrond, and Artanis shared with him how she’d found it odd to be among the Noldor again; she no longer felt she belonged among them, but less did she feel that she belonged among the Sindar, even though Doriath felt more like home to her than any other place she had lived.

Now, Celeborn had only intended to confide his feelings to Artanis that night, but hearing this he was possessed with boldness and eagerness and told Artanis that, while she was already welcome among the Sindar, if she really wanted to feel she belonged she could marry him.

Artanis laughed at this. And laughed, and laughed, while Celeborn blustered through dozens of apologies. But it was not malicious laughter. When she finally collected herself, Artanis simply took his hands in hers and said, “I thought you’d never ask.”

[Things that are actually canon here: the Teleri pausing their journey near Greenwood; Lenwe forsaking the March; Celeborn's kinship with Elwe and his familial relationships; Angrod being the first of the Exiles to come to Doriath; Galadriel staying in Doriath for love of Melian (though Christopher altered the text for the published Silm to say she stayed for Celeborn); Galadriel dwelling for a time in Nargothrond.]

#celeborn #galadriel #celeborn x galadriel #celedriel #galadriel x melian #meladriel #melian #headcanons

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hamsterclaw · 2 years ago

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Aaaaah my chest 😩😩😩🤧 ex husband joon sounds so 😩😩😩ughhhhhhi want them to work out like TALK IT OUT GUYS!!!!

You know, I read this and immediately thought what this Namjoon would be like trying to talk it out.

Pairing: Namjoon x f!reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, Namjoon's an asshole

Your husband, Kim Namjoon, is generally punctual, but he’s unfailingly, always late to your appointments with your marriage counsellor.

It’s a power play, he wants to show you that you can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do, even if it’s your marriage at stake.

Your husband, Kim Namjoon, is unfailingly, always an asshole.

It was hot when you were in college together, when he’d stroll in, thick thighs stretching out grey sweatpants, sit next to you and copy over your shoulder in politics class.

It was hot on your wedding day, when he got bored at the wedding dinner and dragged you into an alcove to shoot his cum down your throat whilst telling you to ‘swallow it down like a good girl, Mrs Kim.’

Honestly, it’s even sometimes hot now, when you’re pissed off at him for being late and he saunters in, manspreads on the couch and nudges your thigh none too subtly when your counsellor Mrs Lee says something he doesn’t agree with.

Namjoon embraces his feral side with a don’t give a fuck attitude you can’t help but admire even as you want to throttle him.

You’ve tried to throttle him a few times but he just laughs and pins your hands over your head and fucks the anger out of you.

You’re in the middle of telling Mrs Lee about your week when Namjoon enters the room. He apologises for being late, the good Korean boy in him coming to the fore just in time to charm her and prevent her from yellow carding him.

If this were a game of football, and you a referee, your husband would be banned for the season for his unsportsmanlike behaviour.

You try your best to hide your sour expression as he presents Mrs Lee with a small succulent for being so accommmodating with her time.

Namjoon excuses himself to make a telephone call, even though he’s just arrived at this counselling session, and you’re sorely tempted to stab him with Mrs Lee’s silver pen.

Your phone vibrates in your bag, and you’re reaching for it when Namjoon returns.

He sits next to you quietly, and to your surprise, the next 45 minutes are spent talking through the difference in the way you and he communicate with each other. He doesn’t so much as roll his eyes once.

As Mrs Lee sums up, you catch him eyeing your thigh where your skirt has ridden up slightly.

Ah, there he is, your familiar asshole. Hidden but never really gone.

Namjoon follows you out of Mrs Lee’s plush, soothingly neutral office, and into the car park.

‘Can you give me a ride?’ he asks.

‘To where?’

‘I have a date. It’s at the French bistro downtown.’

‘We’re still married, Namjoon, why are you going on a date?’

‘Keeping my options open?’ he suggests. The asshole has the audacity to smirk at you.

‘Nah. You can walk,’ you snap.

‘It’s not a date,’ he says, quickly. ‘I’m meeting Yoongi.’

You stare him down.

Finally you say, ‘OK. I’ll drop you off at the subway.’

You unlock the car, get in, and wait for Namjoon to fold his long frame into the passenger seat.

He gets in, pointedly adjusts the seat to accommodate his long legs, reclines the back.

‘C’mere,’ he says, voice low, husky.

He spreads his legs a little, lets the bulge in his crotch show against the thin material of his pants.

Your husband’s at least half-hard, and you’re angry with yourself for even contemplating helping him out.

Shit.

You’ve spent too much time thinking about it.

You can hear the smirk in his voice even without looking at him.

Namjoon says, ‘Look straight ahead, ok?’

His warm hand slips over your bare thigh, under your skirt.

‘I can see your bra,’ he tells you, conversational. ‘It’s that lacy one isn't it? Makes me want to bust a nut just looking at it.’

His other hand skims the front of your chest, tweaks your nipple.

You bite down on your lower lip as he caresses you over the thin material of your blouse.

‘If we weren’t here I’d be sucking on your tits now,’ he continues. ‘Getting your nipples nice and hard for me.’

He laughs softly. ‘Look at yourself, baby.’

Despite your better judgement, you drop your gaze to where your nipple is pressing against his thumb, peaked and so sensitive you could scream.

Namjoon flicks his thumb over your nipples, back and forth, only reluctantly dropping his hand when someone walks past on the way to their car.

Thank fuck you have an SUV.

Namjoon slides his hand under your skirt, fingers reaching straight for your core.

You can both hear how wet you are.

‘Fuck,’ Namjoon swears. His hand ghosts over his crotch, you can see the outline of his hardness so clearly now you know he’s almost fully erect.

You reach out to touch him, and he stops you.

‘Let me feel you first, ok?’

Namjoon pushes your legs apart, strokes his long fingers over you.

‘Look at this messy cunt,’ he grunts. He slips a finger into you, and you whimper at the invasion.

‘Joon!’

‘Use me,’ he murmurs. He slips another finger inside you, and the stretch is so good you’re moaning.

He rocks his thumb over your clit, leans over to mouth at your neck.

His tongue laps over your skin.

‘Wanna taste you,’ he groans.

His forearm flexes as his fingers move in and out of you, curving, hitting your sweet spot with the precision of a man who’s spent years learning what you like.

You come with a gush of wet that makes him groan again, loud.

‘Fuck,’ he pants, using his wet hand to stroke himself.

‘Wait, fuck,’ you cry, beyond caring that you’re pushing the boundaries of public indecency.

You lift your leg over and climb on top of him.

‘Fuck, baby,’ Namjoon grunts. His strong arms curl around you as you seat yourself onto his rigid cock.

He hisses. ‘Fuck, gonna come, fuck.’

He grinds you down into his lap, big hands either side of your hips. A moment later you can feel him twitching inside you.

Namjoon buries his face in the back of your neck.

In amongst the impassioned swearing he moans your name, like he can’t stop himself.

***

A baby wipe cleanup and several muttered curses on both your parts later, you find yourself dropping Namjoon off at the bistro.

‘Fuck, Yoongi’s going to be pissed, I’m so late,’ Namjoon says.

He makes no move to go, though, flashing a dimple at you, mischief in his eyes.

‘Should I just cancel on him and take you home instead?’

‘Don’t be an asshole,’ you tell him.

Namjoon laughs quietly.

‘Yeah.’

He gets out then, and just before he closes the door he says, ‘Hey. Ignore the texts I sent you earlier, ok?’

‘What texts?’

‘I didn’t really have a phone call to make at our counselling session earlier. I spent the time texting you instead,’ he confesses.

‘Kim Namjoon, if you sent me a bunch of dick pics I’ll block you,’ you threaten.

‘Yeah, it’s dick pics, I don’t mind if you save them,’ he says. He winks at you, slams the door closed and then he’s off, hurrying across the street.

***

You’re snuggling into bed when you remember you haven’t checked Namjoon’s messages.

Your husband has a beautiful dick, you’ve seen it plenty but you figure you could always use a visual reminder.

You click on the picture and freeze.

It’s a picture of you and Namjoon in college when you first started dating. He’s got his arm around you, most of his face obscured by a cap but you can see just enough to know he’s smiling. You’re tucked into his side, face bright with adoration.

You both look so young.

You both look so fucking happy.

A tear slides down your cheek.

Your vision blurs but you can see enough to read the next message.

I miss you.

You’re still thinking about him as you fall asleep.

©hamsterclaw 2023

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader

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howyouloveyourdragon · 2 years ago

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threesome with margaery and robb please please i BEG

Taking Charge

pairing: margaery tyrell x reader x robb stark alternate universe: Margaery allies with Stark instead of Lannister, Robb survives (no necrophilia here thank you babes) pronouns: she/her anatomy: afab warnings: power dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, brief discussion of trauma (the red wedding) kinks & positions: threesome, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, light bdsm, being gagged, oral (reader receiving), riding, masturbation, face riding, orgasm denial, fingering dividers by: saradika wordcount: 3,388

A/N: only the best for you ma'am, you told me i could go feral and i always deliver >:) i really hope you enjoy this bby! ♡ also margaery lowkey acts as a medieval marriage counsellor but we'll touch on that later ☠️

Margaery Tyrell is beautiful. You know it. Your husband knows it and the gaggle of raucous men know it as she flits her eyes over Robb. Her lips move but you are too entranced to doubt her words. You hear Robb gulp beside you and your own breath hitches as her shoulders roll back, a lithe hand exposes her neck by sweeping her hair behind her. She smirks as she curtsies--slow and deep. "Thank you, your grace for understanding my position." "Of course." Robb's voice utters but you can hear a familiar gruffness. He glances at two of his men as he gestures for two of them to lead her to a spare tent. You let a gentle hand rest on his forearm. "You need not," You tell the men, ignoring when your husband snaps his sights back to you. You smile pleasingly at Margaery. "We will find somewhere together, it has been a long time since I entertained guests." She returns your grin with the hint of surprise in her crystal eyes. The flicker across your form and her parted lips close. "Perhaps I should be entertaining you, my Queen." You feel as Robb tenses and squeeze gently. You merely hum to Margaery and begin to glide toward her but your husband snatches your arm quickly and tugs you back. His eyes stare deeply into yours as he guides a hand to cup your face, an intensity as he draws closer--prolonging each movement. He connects your lips effortlessly and drinks in the gentle gasp when his tongue treads along the seam of them. Your eyes flutter like the flap of a butterfly's wings until they shut closed. His fingers twist the hair at the back of your head and tugs just enough to let him drink in your soft whine. You don't have the chance to see as Robb's sights turn hard and warning as they lock with Margaery's. Her smirk only deepens.

Eventually you gather the inner strength to pull away with a wet smack and stumble back. As your eyelids slip open his darkening stare greets you, a quick tilt of his head permitting you to step away. His gaze stays locked on you as you leave, linking your arm with the new woman's. "He is rather protective of you." She notes as you walk throughout the camp. You hum in agreement and nod softly. "There was an incident a number of moons ago where he was supposed to marry one of the Frey daughters, we supplemented another man in his place but..." You pause, discomfort crossing your skin like a spider's thick web. Margaerys collects your free hand in the bed of her own hand and squeezes gently. It gives you the courage to continue. "The matter was not resolved. There was bloodshed and we lost a babe but we escaped and so..." Margaery steps in front of you, now holding both your hands. Your breath stutters but still you paint a sad smile across your lips. "I understand." She assures with a gentle smile. She wishes to reassure you. Two of her fingers rise to lift your chin to encourage you looking up into her eyes. "I would feel the same if I had a petal such as yourself. I would take my vows of protection over you just as carefully. And I would take those vows." Her voice purrs like a kitten curled in your lap, like it is a soft tail wrapping itself around your forearm instead of her hand.

The days pass with your forms close at every turn and under your husband’s watchful eye. Your nightly activities increase, a deeper need clawing up Robb’s chest. Tonight, you writhe in the sheets with Robb's pants fanning over your neck as his fingers bury deep within your core. He moans at the wet stickiness, letting it drip down his hand. You feel it growing–the wave about to crash–swirling deeper and deeper. It’s like a whirlpool that you are begging to let swallow you down. You want it, you need it and then–Then Robb retracts stops. “Say it,” His unusually gruff voice murmurs in your ear, ignoring your flailing legs. You try to grind back and forth but his spare hand pushes your hips down in warning. He leans up to your ear. “Say it.” He demands once more, rougher. “I love you.” You concede easily, gentle whimpers pouring out. His fingers roll fluidly again and the waves return. “Again.” “I love you.” The water spins you, an overwhelming heat distorts your sight. “Again.” “I love you.” And finally he lets the dam break inside you. Your heat gushes over his hand. His mouth drops down onto yours with a resounding kiss. His lips move sloppily but demandingly. He grumbles as he turns to lay his back on the bed and sling and arm around your own. “So good for me.” He rumbles. “My best girl, hm?” You mumble in approval while he moves to kiss your cheek before standing. Your whines return as he begins to leave you, presumably to visit the tent of your living quarters. Not for the first time you are grateful your husband is given special privileges but detest the sight of his back. He chuckles low. “A moment, my love.” He leaves, presumably to find a cloth and water. Your slick glistens down your rear.

Minutes pass, possibly twenty, possibly thirty but either way you are unsatisfied with your missing husband. You rise on shaky legs, bare all except a silk robe. Your feet lead you to the connecting tent, surprised at the closed sheets of it. Your breath hitches as you step toward the dark tent, your fingers about to part the sheets but two familiar voices interrupt the movement. “I heard you of course…” A Tyrell voice tuts and your eyes go wide. Surely she does not mean… “Denying your wife? I thought Starks were honourable.” A deep blush treads up your face with the wisps of wind. You shiver as the cold air creeps through your dress, hardening the pebbles beneath. You peek through the curtain and instantly clasp a hand over your mouth at the sight of your husband stiffened, the woman opposite trailing her fingers up his tunic. He snatches her wrist quickly and squeezes it harshly. You can hear her breath hitch. “What are you doing, Lady Tyrell?” Robb snarls to which she merely chuckles. She steps onto her tiptoes and leans into his ear. “I am going to teach you how to please your wife, how to please your Queen, how to…worship her.” She purrs the words like a playful kitten. His grip loosens enough for the highborn lady to grow bold and raise her other hand to his shoulder. He is silent as his eyes track her palm. It is almost soothing, the circles she rubs against the loose fabric. The wolf King clears his throat before he speaks. “How?” You would pity his vulnerable tone if it didn’t charge the throb of your pearl, if the pebbles of your breasts were not growing more sensitive with every word that flowed through your ears.

You almost gasp when you see her unravel two snakes of rope from beneath her skirt, letting it feed through her fingers as she pushes Robb down into a wooden chair though you are both aware it could not truly hold him unless he demanded his own body to still. Her hands glide down his arms, thick with muscle, her nails play with the top threads of his linen undershirt. The rose unlaces the ties of his shirt slowly, torturing. Your eyes hook their gaze to her fingers, mouth going dry at their graceful movements. She is a lot more experienced than she let on but it does not upset you...in fact it rather does the opposite, your pearl beginning to throb again. He watches her, eyes tracking her every motion. “Well first you are going to have to calm yourself. I would hate for her to join us too early, before we even have you prepared for her. You cannot see her face but you can imagine her serene smile. Her hands glide across his chest and push him down into a waiting chair. The bridge of rope between her hands follows down to slither between his legs. He grunts at the contact, his member still heavy from the activities before. He bites his lip. Margaery chuckles as she sinks to her knees and begins to bind his forearm to the wooden chair. “Do not worry, my King, we will fix that in a moment.” Your eyes widen and drink in the sight, watching as she binds his other arm as well. You gulp as she straddles his lap.

“Oh such a good boy…” Margaery coos, running her hand into the northerner’s hair and then gripping the curls tight. Having a King bound to a chair before you–inside a tent or not–is a rather quick way to encourage your confidence. For it to drip through your veins and pump the blood raucously. She smirks down at him as he groans. His eyes are as fierce as the wolf he is. “I almost feel guilty for playing with you but if you want to be a King, you will have to earn that right.” She licks her lips and dips a hand between her breasts. The King gasps, matching you simultaneously but then she pulls out a grey fabric and brings it to hover before his mouth. His eyes snap up to hers. “You must trust my practice, King Stark.” He growls but begrudgingly parts his lips enough to bare his wolfish teeth. Her giggling attracts your ears as she slides the gag in his mouth. She raises a single hand in the air and beckons you close. You freeze. “Come, my Queen.” Her free hand runs along his jaw then hardens it, pulling him closer with an intensity you didn’t expect. “He’s pretty isn’t he, dearest?” You merely nod, looking at your husband as the Tyrell tugs at him. Her eyes flit over to you as she smirks. “This is not the first time you have both played this game, is it?” Her grin deepens when your reluctant nod pleases her. Robb bites his lip, trying to hold back the moan. “I was wondering why you do not mind me playing with him but now I see…You enjoy it. Seeing someone else in power for once, taking him…” She slowly tilts her head. “Would you like to tame him? The big bad wolf? You will need to find your voice, pet.” A tentative step forward is all she needs to see to broaden her wicked grin. She slaps Robb’s cheek sharply and climbs off his lap. “There’s a smart girl.” Her hands reach you while her face squeals in girlish delight—a sight you are not used to.

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric. “Always so modest.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh. A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn commanding. “Oh such a good boy…”

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric of your robe. “Always so modest, hm? Don’t worry, we’ll fix that.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh.

A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn demanding, her nails sinking into your thighs. A yelp rebounds from your lips in time with a distant growl. You sit upright on shaky elbows to let your heavy-lidded eyes gaze upon your needy husband, a dribble of saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth, gag wet. Perhaps fabric is not a desired material. She rolls an ‘r’ along your bud, delighting in your sharp intake of breath. Robb rumbles once more. Margaery sighs. “You can either behave or wait even longer. I will bring your wife to her peak once more for every sound that comes from your lips but you will receive nothing until you have learned to prioritise your beloved.” Her voice is muffled but resounding. She commands him as well as she would command a disobedient mutt. Her tongue licks up your residue. “If you were my wife, I would drink from you every waking moment and if I were your King, I would keep my face tucked between your thighs. Escaping my lips would be your hardest battle.” Margaery moans. Robb growls at the rose’s words but the soothing strokes of her tongue please you.

She pulls back, smirking at the whines that drip from your mouth. “And so needy too.” She chuckles as she pulls away, her curls tickling up your thigh. You jump in sensitivity but it all makes her coo like caressing a flightless bird. “Aw, sweet darling. Need us to take care of you, huh? Is he not taking care of you? Poor thing…We’ll just have to take care of you, ourselves.” A deep growl permeates from your husband, his arms straining against his ties but as your eyes linger on his form, his cock looks aching as it strains through his trousers, the tip of it wetting the fabric. The poor man must be absolutely throbbing and yet that doesn’t make you pity him, it only entices you. Margaery raises a finger to rub pressured circles on your bud. She chuckles when you hiss and your elbows collapse you to lie back on the table again. The image of your husband’s hungry face lingers in your mind but it’s Margaery’s hair that you move to grasp between your fingers. Your hips grind as her tongue returns to lap at you. “That’s it,” You encourage, delighting in the wet noise.And then it comes again, the sensitivity crashing over your cunt. Your eyes shut tight and your face scrunches up as a long pitiful whine pushes past your lips. The whimper of the Stark King only sends another wave to flow onto Margaery’s tongue who doesn’t lessen her pace until she can swallow down every drop.

Your body falls imp, sprawled out. Your legs tremble as they hang off the side of the table but finally Margaery’s greed softens and she pulls back. Your glistening wetness still coats her lips as they grin up at you. Her hands slither up your body, starting at your thighs until they settle on your waist. She squeezes gently before spreading them. You hiss briefly but are quickly hushed when she kisses up your neck in soothing patterns. “I will not mark you yet.” She whispers in purring vibration. “But if you ever tire of wolves, I will be but a moment away.” She kisses the space behind your ear. A tempting little rose she is as she pulls away, cupping your hands as she tugs you to stand on your shaky legs. She tuts. “So used today, don’t worry, it’s your turn.” The scent of her hair wafts thickly up your nose, clouding your other senses as she pulls you, one arm now around your waist. When you finally look up from the floor, you see Robb’s piercing eyes waiting for you with the patience of a wild boar. She slowly winds your legs so you can straddle your husband who quickly nuzzles against your neck. Margaery delights as she wraps around you from behind, kissing up your opposing shoulder as her hands help yours to slip down Robb’s smallclothes. However, it is you who raises your fingers to tear open the offending fabric on your husband’s chest and who rips the gag away to replace it with your lips. He grunts and ruts his hips. His member throbs, the top purple and preening for attention. You can almost feel it begging. Margaery’s warm palms roll your hips, grinding you against it but you do not complain. His lips are wet with saliva and sweat but it doesn’t deter you, letting the salt flit across your tongue.

Margaery praises you as you gather the strength to slide onto his length, gasping out as it fills you for the first time in a week. He groans loudly, eyes already rolling back, it’s the final straw for him to snap off the ropes and capture your hips while you sink onto him. When you finally drop onto him, your arms hook around his neck. “Be good for me, that’s it,” You encourage as he whimpers like a pup. Margaery beams with pride as she brings her fingers to roll your nipples back and forth. “Tell her how much you want it.” Margaery prompts, voice growing gravelled. “That you want her, that you want to fill that sweet little pussy, hm?” Robb nods, and thrusts hard into you, a yelp streaming from your lips. “I want you.” He moans, hot breath panting as his grip tightens. “Want you more than I’ve wanted anything. Iw ould give up my crown and my line for you.” A high pitched noise escapes you as your hips rock faster back and forth. “Want to keep you full of me. You want that? You want me to keep you full?” Your nods are all he needs to finally let loose and spill, you tighten as Margaery flicks the pebbles of your breasts. You throw your head back but the rose of Highgarden is quick to rake one hand into your hair and tug you to face her. “That’s right, my queen. Release for us.” And you do, your womanhood spasming as a thick cream rings around your husband’s who sighs breathily and kisses up your neck. A line of wetness slides up as your companion chuckles low.

General Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings | to be added there you can creep into my asks) @hopelesswritergall @its-actually-minicika

Margaery Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings | to be added there is a link attached to wear you can comment or you can step into my asks ♡)

Robb Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings | to be added there is a link attached to wear you can comment or you can step into my asks ♡)

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lookingfts · 6 months ago

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Friday Fic Rec 9/20

Thanks so much for your submissions! I actually got so many that I’m going to save some for next week, so if you don’t see something you recommended, I will include it later!

Titles are links to each fic.

can’t turn back now by idkmanokay

"This mob boss Anthony and BAMF Kate is absolutely amazing. I love it when they match each other’s freak a thousand percent.”

Description: anthony inherits his father’s empires and finally meets his match in a secretive kate

WIP (12/14) - E - 64k words

So Help Me God by writesforpleasure

“It’s a very interesting story about Kate and Anthony as camp counsellors at a religious summer camp!! It addresses themes of religious guilt, atheism and God, from their perspectives.”

Description: Kate, Anthony, and company navigate American Christian summer camp. What could go wrong?

WIP (5/?) - NR - 14k words

An Inconvenient Arrangement by @doodlingaway

“This story is set after the Sheffield dinner. What if Anthony was honest with Edwina regarding their loveless marriage? And then Kate proposes a marriage of convenience. Chaos ensues. It's a brilliant emotional revelation. Really anything by this author is A+!”

Description: After the Sheffield dinner, Anthony is struck by Kate’s mention that he would break her sister’s heart by calling off their engagement. He decides that a conversation is in order between them to clear the air, which goes about as well as you might expect. Kate is left to pick up the pieces and find a way forward for her family. Which, most disconcertingly, might just involve the one person who has caused all this pain for her family to begin with.

Complete - T - 18k words

bloom by antematter

“An oldie but a goodie. I just reread this as antematter has been pumping out hit after hit these last couple of months. Every one of her stories is stunningly beautiful, but this one was the OG for me. I still remember reading it the first time round in complete awe and waiting so anxiously for the second chapter. It was my first soul marks fic, and I’ve been in love with the trope ever since. Antematter is a fandom gem!“

Description: Kate is born with a single tulip on the inside of her left wrist and a red lily on her right. This in itself is not particularly unusual. a soulmates au

Complete - T - 7k words

dowry by afreenafreen

“Dowry is a masterpiece, a fic focused on Kate's feelings after Anthony's marriage proposal to Edwina, but the difference is that although Kate is destroyed, she also feels freed when Anthony refuses any dowry and with the added bonus of a friendship between Kate and Dorset.”

Description: She is glad that Edwina managed to find a good match for herself - despite all of Kate's meddling and disapproval and interference. And after she goes home and hands the settlement papers to Mary with careful instructions regarding its notarization and safekeeping, she must congratulate her sister as well, sweetly and sincerely, and wash her hands off the entire affair. For she has now been set free.

WIP (5/10) - M - 28k words

A Promise Made In Haste by @waterlilyrose

“Hands down the best take on the 'What if Anthony married Edwina' premise that I have read. It's a very slow burn as the author takes the time to actually navigate regency era divorce (taking some liberties, of course). A really spectacular, thorough journey to their HEA.”

Description: An AU where Anthony actually goes through with marrying Edwina and Kate actually goes back to India. And Anthony and Edwina (after maybe a year or so into their marriage--which is going miserably by the way) go to visit her in India.

Complete - E - 107k words

time makes fools of us all. by limeny

Description: Kate gave her sister the most exasperated look she could manage in a fuzzy pink sweater. “Edwina Sharma,” she scoffed. “What on Earth possessed you to say yes to a loser that would allow a bored widow to play matchmaker for him?” A modern AU love story in the span of a year.

Complete - M - 20k words

LFTS rec: Kate the Virgin by @rosesatdawn24

Such a fun plot for our two dumb lovebirds. Sweet and sexy and you don’t need me to tell you that my girl Rose is an absolutely amazing writer.

Description: A Jane the Virgin AU

WIP (16/40) - E - 32k words

Thanks to those who submitted! Keep your recs coming! You can find previous weeks under the "lfts fic recs" tag.

#lfts fic recs #bridgerton #kanthony #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic

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glorfindel-of-imladris · 11 months ago

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The Case of Erestor Half-elven

It’s been a hot minute since my last fandom meta, but this one I accidentally stumbled upon gathering notes for—would you believe it—a Glorfindel meta I intended to write. Man, I’m not even going to question the process, so let’s just get right on to it!

I like to joke around that there are only six instances when Erestor was mentioned in the entire legendarium, and by this I mean in The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, and The Silmarillion (in which he does not even appear in the latter two).

But let’s talk about the early draft of him that is often referenced in fandom. If one extends the search, in The Return of Shadow, which details the writing process of what ultimately would be The Fellowship of the Ring, Erestor does get a mention, and is described as follows:

“There were three counsellors of Elrond’s own household: Erestor his kinsman (a man of the same half-elvish folk known as the children of Lúthien), and beside him two elflords of Rivendell.” -- In the House of Elrond, The Return of Shadow

By the final version of The Lord of the Rings, however, there is no more reference to Erestor as Half-elven. The final published version goes:

"Beside Glorfindel there were several other counsellors of Elrond's household, of whom Erestor was the chief..." -- The Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring

By this final version of the story, the Half-elven trait no longer made sense for Erestor, and was replaced instead by him being Elrond's chief counsellor.

The nature of Half-elves

Tolkien acknowledges three unions of Elves and Men:

“There were three unions of the Eldar and the Edain: Lúthien and Beren; Idril and Tuor; Arwen and Aragorn. By the last the long-sundered branches of the Half-elven were reunited and their line was restored.” –Appendix A, Return of the King

One of the later themes Tolkien came up with surrounding the Half-elven line (which likely did not yet exist at the early stages of the story when he was first forming the fellowship) was how they united and reunited all the houses of the Eldar and the Edain. Beren was a descendant of the three houses of the Edain—the Houses of Bëor, Haleth, and Hador—while Lúthien was the daughter of a Sinda (Teleri) and a Maia. Idril was the daughter of a Ñoldo and a Vanya. Lúthien and Beren had Dior, who then had a daughter, Elwing, who wed Eärendil, the son of Idril and Tuor. Elwing and Eärendil then had Elros and Elrond, and the line was separated for many generations when Elros chose to be counted among Men, and Elrond among Elves. The two lines were reunited with the marriage of Aragorn and Arwen.

One important detail here is that before the “Choice of the Half-elves” that was later gifted to Eärendil, Elwing, and their children, the children born out of an Elf-Man union led lives akin to Men. Dior was able to rule Doriath at age 33, and Eärendil and Elwing married at 22. These, as we know, would have been too young for Elves, given:

“Children of Men might reach their full height while Eldar of the same age were still in the body like to mortals of no more than seven years. Not until their fiftieth year did the Eldar attain the stature and shape in which their lives would afterwards endure, and for some a hundred years would pass before they were full-grown.” -- Laws and Customs of the Eldar, Morgoth’s Ring

and

“The Eldar wedded for the most part in their youth and soon after their fiftieth year […] Those who would afterwards become wedded might choose one another early in youth, even as children (and indeed this happened often in days of peace); but unless they desired soon to be married and were of fitting age, the betrothal awaited the judgment of the parents of either party.” -- Laws and Customs of the Eldar, Morgoth’s Ring

After the events of the War of the Wrath, Eärendil, Elwing, and their sons Elrond and Elros, for their deeds in the war, were gifted with the choice to be counted either among the Eldar or the Edain. Eärendil, Elwing, and Elrond chose to be counted among Elves, and the choice continued on to Elrond’s children: Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir. Elros chose to be counted among Men, but in his case, the choice no longer extended to his descendants; every descendant of Elros was mortal.

The only thing I can conclude for why Elros’ line did not get to choose is because the Gift of Ilúvatar—that is, a death that transcends the world of Arda—trumps all other gifts. It is a blessing that followed the line of Elros—never mind that the latter Númenóreans did not all agree that this was a blessing at all.

A similar sentiment can be found in earlier versions of the Quenta Silmarillion, where Manwë said to Eärendil:

"Now all those who have the blood of mortal Men, in whatever part, great or small, are mortal, unless other doom be granted to them; but in this matter the power of doom is given to me." -- Quenta Silmarillion, The Lost Road and Other Writings

Although this was no longer included in the published Silmarillion, Christopher Tolkien still considered this in judging that Dior, son of Beren and Lúthien, would have been mortal, regardless of whether Lúthien was Elf or mortal when she begetted him.

Bonus extra: The fourth case of Elf-Man union

Despite the excerpt from Appendix A, there is another case of Elf-Man union that we know: Mithrellas and Imrazôr. This was alluded to in Return of the King when describing Prince Imrahil:

“...and with him went the Prince of Dol Amroth in his shining mail. For he and his knights still held themselves like lords in whom the race of Númenor ran true. Men that saw them whispered saying: ‘Belike the old tales speak well; there is Elvish blood in the veins of that folk, for the people of Nimrodel dwelt in that land once long ago.’” The Siege of Gondor, Return of the King

Although it seems as though this was only a rumor among Men, in the wider History of Middle-earth, Mithrellas is indeed mentioned to have been the spouse of Imrazôr who bore him children, of whom Galador was the ancestor of the princes of Dol Amroth. Of their line, it was said:

“But though Mithrellas was of the lesser silvan race (and not of the High Elves or the Grey) it was ever held that the house and kin of the Lords of Dol Amroth were noble by blood, as they were fair of face and mind.” The Heirs of Elendil, The Peoples of Middle-earth

The princes of Dol Amroth, of course, are mortal, and this does not contradict anything that has already been established. It is easy to imagine how, in a world where Elves and Men co-exist, there could be many other undocumented cases throughout the years. But what we do know is that no other Half-elf outside of Eärendil’s line would have led a long life by choosing the path of Elves. Therefore, if there were any other Half-elves in the Council of Elrond, aside from Elrond himself, they would have been not much older than Aragorn or Boromir.

Erestor’s age and role in Rivendell

We now return to Erestor. One of the clearest things in “The Council of Elrond” is the Elves’ reluctance to take the One Ring. Erestor is one of the most vocal about this, and this is one of my favorite themes to explore about his character in the Third Age.

Given the character's history in Tolkien's drafts, Erestor's narrative role seems to have always been to drive the Council of Elrond to its conclusion. Where people strayed from the topic (which then allowed Tolkien to expound more for world-building), Erestor's purpose even in early drafts was to bring everyone back to the task at hand. In addition to this though, thematically, I think Erestor eventually also represented the fading of the Elves. He is most known for his quick suggestion to give the Ring to Tom Bombadil. This tells us:

The Elves do not want anything to do with the Ring anymore, a sentiment that would be especially potent for one who was there during the Last Alliance, in the Second Age when Sauron was at the peak of his power; and

The time of the Elves is ending, and there is little more they can give to Middle-earth.

Granted, Legolas remained a member of the Fellowship and thus represented the Elves, but by Elven standards, Legolas was young, and did not have the weariness that someone older would have. Erestor reads to me as someone older, even older in spirit in comparison to Glorfindel.

‘We know not for certain,’ answered Elrond sadly. ‘Some hope that the Three Rings, which Sauron has never touched, would then become free, and their rulers might heal the hurts of the world that he has wrought. But maybe when the One has gone, the Three will fail, and many fair things will fade and be forgotten. That is my belief.’ ‘Yet all the Elves are willing to endure this chance,’ said Glorfindel, ‘if by it the power of Sauron may be broken, and the fear of his dominion be taken away for ever.’ ‘Thus we return once more to the destroying of the Ring,’ said Erestor, ‘and yet we come no nearer. What strength have we for the finding of the fire in which it was made? That is the path of despair. Of folly, I would say, if the long wisdom of Elrond did not forbid me.’ -- The Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring

Erestor has a weariness to him that is even notable especially beside Glorfindel's vitality, whom we know was reborn in Aman as though young again, with "the primitive innocence and grace of the Eldar" (Peoples of Middle-earth). Glorfindel, however, is a special case even among all Elves in the Third Age, while Erestor arguably would have been more representative of them, at least of the ones that remained in Middle-earth.

Another case to be made about Erestor being one of the oldest in Rivendell is by virtue of his status as chief among Elrond’s counsellors. Considering the population of Elves in Rivendell, this is no small feat. As Gandalf told Frodo:

‘Here in Rivendell there live still some of [Sauron’s] chief foes: the Elven-wise, lords of the Eldar from beyond the furthest seas. They do not fear the Ringwraiths, for those who have dwelt in the Blessed Realm live at once in both worlds, and against both the Seen and the Unseen they have great power. [...] Indeed there is power in Rivendell to withstand the might of Mordor, for a while: and elsewhere other powers still dwell.’ -- Many Meetings, The Fellowship of the Ring

So what is he?

The last quote about the Elf-lords of Rivendell is one of the main reasons why I say Erestor is likely of the Ñoldorin Calaquendi. This makes the most sense given his position in Elrond’s household and given the sorts of Elves that dwell there. Fortunately, this still gives us many options: he could be an Elf from Gondolin, from Nargothrond, even among one of the many houses of the Fëanoryn.

Could he have been any other kind of Elf? Sure! I even particularly have a soft spot for Erestor being Sindarin, but again, given his position, I would guess one of the older lines. Doriath, in particular, would make sense. Given how Elves seem to be “ranked” by wisdom defined by their exposure to the Valar and the rest of the Ainur, Doriath, with Melian’s influence, would have been a special kind of place.

Could Erestor still be Half-elven? My easiest answer would be that it’s unlikely. But! Do not despair! With fiction, really anything is possible. Erestor could be an exceptional Half-elf and that is why he is chief counsellor. He could still be a kindred of Elrond’s by some obscure line, such as an unrecorded child in the line of Beren and Lúthien, or as a popular fanon, either Eluréd or Elurín survived. Or he could just be the son of some other Elf and Man. But whatever version it is, Erestor Half-elven would not have had the choice of the Half-elves, and so likely would not have been alive beyond the lifetime of a Númenórean.

#erestor #meta #the way i accidentally churn out meta sometimes is just #i don't know #wow this took up a sunday #but!#i'm glad to have been able to lay down my notes for it #i do love erestor a lot #and i love the challenge that comes with piecing together canon for all fandom character studies #erestor's obscurity and the challenge he gives me is probably why i like this guy a lot #that and because #he stood beside glorfindel at a wedding #LMAO #let's not pretend it started as anything more than that #90's things #tolkien #the lord of the rings #the silmarillion and other histories

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cuckolding-books-library · 5 months ago

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A LESBIANIZED TOWN

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Most people didn't pay much attention to the opening of Tricia's and Naomi's women-only massage studio in the small town of Sanford Hills. The number of costumers peaked quickly, though. The comments posted in the studio's website were uniformly positive and included sentences such as "A life changing experience," "A wonderful, sensual session", "Exactly what I had been missing all my life" and "If you haven't yet visited their studio, you are missing the most wonderful things a woman can experience in her life." Most costumers also advised their friends to visit the studio.

If Tricia and Naomi hadn't advised their costumers to be very discreet and cautious, the massage studio would have been a source of scandal among the inhabitants of the town. The local preacher caught his sister-in-law kissing a woman who had got married at his church a few months before, and in his next sermon he advised his parishioners to be vigilant against the worrisome trends of "unnatural closeness" between women. This was not only followed by a sharp drop in attendance to Sunday mass, but also by a harsh scolding from his wife and his own brother advice to be more open minded.

"Ladies night" at the local pub became "Ladies only night". At first, male costumers tried to oppose the pub owner's decision, but after their initial reluctance, male costumers accepted the new rules without much ado.

There was a sharp spike in demand for couples therapy, and rumours of sexual dissatisfaction from wives. Some couples, sought the advice of one the two male marriage counsellors of the town. The more religious couples, sought the advice of their pastor. Irrespective of whose advice they sought, husbands were told to do anything to make their wives happy.

There was a short lasting peak in the local divorce rate, but the couples that divorced were only the peak of the iceberg, compared with the number of couples whose life was changed forever after the opening of the massage studio.

Your wife, for instance, was one of Tricia's and Naomi's first costumers, one of the first to beg them to finger-fuck her, one of the first to post one of the "life changing experience" comments, one of the first costumers to lick Naomi's pussy. But, most of all, your wife was one of the first to invite over one of the lesbianized wives and to ask her to stay over as you slept in the guest bedroom. However, she cannot claim to be the only one who has blatantly cuckolded her husband with another woman, in her own house, in her own master bedroom, in her own marital bed; the list of competitors is larger than the inhabitants of the town would dare to believe.

Although you probably aren't very proud of it, you were one of the first hubbies of Stanford Hills cuckolded by a lesbian, one of the first trained to serve a lesbian couple and one of the first to wait hand and foot on the women who went to the pub on the "Ladies-only nights". Your wife followed Tricia and Naomi's advice to the letter, "your hubby will never be able to give you the intense orgasms you will experience with women, but properly trained hubbies can still be useful. Once they become cuckolds, once they accept that they are no longer allowed to rule their wives' sex life, or to even comment on it, they can make very good and very submissive servants, whose only aim in life will be making their wives' life easier."

You were not the only one, though. The long list includes your two brothers… but also the two male marriage counsellors of the town. You even heard rumours about the preacher's wife, and one of the rumours is that she and a close female friend of her love to peg him. In one of his most recent sermons he said, "a husband who fails to support his wife friendship with another woman isn't keeping his marital vows and, because of this, he's a sinner." But maybe you'll learn very soon if the rumours have some foundation; the pastor's wife has invited your wife and you over ...

#CUCKOLDRY

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lua-magic · 1 year ago

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Mercury and your past life skill you are carrying.

Mercury in Aries are carefree souls, won't car much before taking risks. They often get person involved in gambling and illicit ways of earning.

They love to take risks in life . They are big risk takers in life and it will give them dopamine rush.

These are the people who loves to go for adventrous sports and deadly acts.

Mercury in eighth house involves you into research and gets you higher degrees.

It will give them a lot of creative ideas, and are day dreamers.

They love to think unique and differently.

Mercury with Mars people has good sense of humour and are quite straight forward, it gives, creative ideas, intrest in cars, and native would always think big and different from crowd.

Mercury in second house, either you disown your family, or your family will disown you.

You won't follow traditions of family and would likely to move away from them.

Native would be highly articulated in their way of speech and would look young.

Mercury in its natural sign ie third house but it is considered debilitated. It makes you emotional and sometimes gives you mental problems.

This combination makes you always confused and causes conflict with sibblings.

It will impact your relationship with your father in negative and makes you take separate route from your family's traditional values. Natives have beutiful hand writing and are highly skillful. Native learn diffrent languages and skills and want always to try something new in their life.

Native with Mercury in fourth house are intuitive, emotional, and loves to read books.

They have lot of books in their house or big book self.

They are creative but fail to pay attention details, as their mind would be always in different realm.

They are skilled native's mother would be a learnt person or a teacher or counsellor.

Mercury in Virgo is exalted and loves to pay attention to details.

If afflicted could give skin problems and mental issues.

Native with Mercury seventh house impacts married life negatively.

Native will involve in multiple relationship and these native that attracts and gets married to karmic partners.

Native has curse of Mercury, it shows in past life or someone in their family had done something bad to kid.

Here, native and their partner would be like friend before marriage and even after marriage they stay good friends.

These native stay friends with their ex in a positive way.

Here, Mercury would give native young looking partner.

Mercury in ninth house native will not follow this religion or might have his/ her own religion.

They won't believe in the god and believe in themselves more.

They might introduce a new religion or cult or become part of some kind of cult.

Mercury in tenth house, native would be great in paper works, pay attention to details and extremely focussed and quick to start any project.

Mercury in water signs four, eight and twelve makes you creative and gives you unique ideas

Mercury in fiery signs, one, five and nine make you focused and quick to start project.

Mercury in earthy signs make you pay attention to details.

Mercury in airy signs three, seven and eleven makes you good in marketing, and communication.

This placement also gives you humour, witty and quick to answer.

Mercury in fifth house gives you good grasp over language and literature. You would be great with kids and children and love to read books and write.

It will give native ego and make them romantic as well.

It will give you name, fame and money as well.

Mercury eleventh will give you large friends circle, good communication and intrest in psychology and reading books..

These people could judge people easily and love to involve in social media.

Mercury in twelfth house is debilitated as it gives sleeplessness, anxiety and problems with communication.

Native would be highly calculative, have problem in communication, but extremely creative, intuitive and big day dreamers .

People with Mercury in twelve house should learn to give gifts and as they have pending karma regards to money matters, hence they loose more money.

Mercury in cancer or moon in Gemini or Mercury and moon together makes great healers as well.

Saturn and Mercury could cause you skin problems but good combination for someone who wants to be writer.

It will give native intrest in old and antique things.

Generally, Mercury whichever house it sits in shows your pending karma regarding that house and your thinking pattern as well.

#spirituality #occult #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astrology

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lettersfromaphrodite · 2 years ago

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[8.45]

― pairing : Hyunjin x fem! reader ― content warnings : angst with a happy ending, smut, fluff, royals au, Hyunjin is a Prince, arranged marriage, medieval settings, ⚠️exhibitionism/voyeurism, don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable with it⚠️unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 5.467

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

👑 ROYALS! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho // Felix part one | part two // Jeongin

The Princess’ unfaltering decision of refusing her arranged marriage was definitely the most entertaining talk of the Castle for the whole month of January.

Nobody but you – her lady in waiting, knew the reason why she was so stubborn with her choice, and your mouth was sealed in loyalty to what was your future Queen - and regardless, always treated you as her friend. You spent every day with her, and in the evening, you would brush her hair as he kept talking about her beloved Duke with a dreamy and enamoured voice, giggling and blushing as she told you every detail about how their forbidden meetings went. You couldn’t help but smile at her, the secret hope that her love would bloom and come true, even if you knew that probably, their secret encounters would never lead to a marriage.

What you obviously did not know, was that while the Princess kept throwing her temper tantrum, the Royal Council kept having meetings, secretly deciding to send a maid in her place, in order to get married to the foreign Prince. Needless to say, said maid was you.

As the King and his Counsellor told you about it, you instinctively sat back in horror on the velvet chair behind you, a hand placed on your hammering heart.

«Your Majesty,» you breathed, your voice shaking weakly as you spoke. «I don’t think I am suited for-»

«I will not tolerate any dissent on your part.» his gruff and authoritative voice interrupted your sentence, and you close your eyes in silent resignation, a lone tear escaping your eyes. «You spent enough time with my daughter to know how a Princess shall behave.»

«Don’t you want to serve your Kingdom?» the Counsellor added, and few men from the royal council murmured among themselves intelligible sentences which you obviously couldn’t understand. You shook your head, giving in, knowing you couldn’t do otherwise.

As you wish, your Highness.» and with that, you excused yourself in order to storm back into your room, not bothering to justify to the other maids and butlers working at the Castle why you were so pale and on the verge of crying.

As soon as you accepted, the news spreaded around even faster than the fact that Princess Illezra was dating a Duke, and that was the main talk for the whole month of February, which you spent refining your manners, since now you had to act like a proper Princess. Illezra developed the habit of sleeping with you, holding your hand and repeating soft «I’m so sorry.» to which you shook your head every time.

«Don’t blame yourself,» you’d say. «I’m just scared.» Illezra would nod, just to repeat the same sentence every day right before falling asleep, and the two of you fell into a peaceful slumber with your fingers tightly interlocked.

Truth was, you weren’t just scared, you were terrified. First of all, you had to pretend to be someone you were not for your whole life, you were being forced into a marriage which you definitely didn’t ask for and most importantly, you didn’t know what your future husband looked like.

For all you knew, he could be a boy around your age, but the chances of him being an old, bald unattractive and evil man were also pretty high. The other Kingdom’s silence was disturbing; they never sent a portrait of your future husband, not even once.

«What if he’s handsome and he thinks I’m ugly?» you whined, pinching the bridge of your nose. «What if I screw up?»

«Language, your Highness!» Illezra giggled, mocking what she had been told countless times. «You’re gorgeous,» she said, sitting behind you on the bed in order to brush your hair, «and if he thinks otherwise, he’s an idiot.»

«What if he’s old and-» you whined, on the verge of crying once again. «I don’t want to think about it, I can’t bring myself to think about it.»

The day of your departing came sooner than you thought and so, during a chill March morning, you were sitting in an expensive carriage headed to your neighbour Kingdom, your heart sinking in your stomach the further you got from the town where you’ve lived all your life. You tried your best to avoid thinking about your future husband and your future life, and so you opted to engaging a small talk with the butler assigned to stay with you until the day of your marriage.

«What if he finds out everything?» you asked him, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you met his sharp yet kind gaze.

«He won’t.» he smiled politely, «No one from their Kingdom ever saw the Princess before.» his words somehow managed to reassure you, and before you realized, almost a day of travelling went by.

The first thing you noticed when your personal butler helped you out of the carriage was that their Castle looked way more expensive than the one you lived in, and the second one was the tall boy with jet black hair which was looking at you with an unreadable expression.

The King immediately welcomed you, introducing himself and the Queen as well, before gesturing to the boy.

«He’s Prince Hyunjin,» he said, «Your future husband.» you politely bowed to him, and he respectfully reached out to kiss the top of your gloved hand.

«Those portrait didn’t do any justice to your beauty.» he said, basically only for you to hear, and the unexpected kind tone of his voice made you wonder if he had been forced to say such a cliché pick up line. Your introductions went smoothly, and the Queen informed about a welcoming banquet being hosted in few hours, so you decided to take up her offer and freshen up.

The first thing you thought as you stepped into your new room was that there was an obvious mistake; the room was huge and decorated with furniture that looked so expensive that you wondered what the Queen’s room would look like. You were particularly happy about the small balcony attached to your room that directly faced the garden, which you would soon find out to remain enlightened all night, thanks to the numerous torches spreaded around.

When shortly after, two maids came to dress you up and do your hair, you thought you could make it work.

When you were sitting at the table while a significant number of people were occasionally staring at you before mumbling things among themselves, you thought you could never make it work.

«Relax,» Hyunjin’s unexpected soft whisper distracted your ministrations of staring blankly at your fork with a bite of food on it. «I promise we’ll excuse ourselves right after the desserts,» he added, before naturally placing his golden caliche in front of his lips, hiding his mouth in order to keep his words even more secret. «They’re probably saying you’re beautiful and wondering when we’re going to produce a heir.» he added, his tone somehow annoyed as he pronounced the last part of the sentence, making you almost choke on your bite of food before you mimicked his action of coveting your mouth with the golden chalice placed in front of you.

«Isn’t it a little bit too soon to talk about an heir?» you asked, noticing that while talking, both you and Hyunjin managed to inch closer, and you also couldn’t help but notice how insanely good he looked up close.

«It is,» Hyunjin chuckled, «but the Royal Counsellor is desperately waiting for heirs.» he smiled at your confused face, before adding a quick «The one completely dressed in purple and looking like an ogre. I bet he’s looking at you.» you tried not to giggle as you met said men’s gaze, before looking back at Hyunjin’s smiling face once again, and he playfully winked at you.

Your heart felt a little lighter knowing that your future husband was at least friendly, and you felt even better when, exactly as he promised, Hyunjin politely excused the both of you before leading you towards the garden.

«Thoughts on the welcoming party?» Hyunjin asked, sitting next to you on a marble bench cornered by small bushes of white roses.

«Definitely… intense.» you offered a small smile, not used to so many people looking at you while studying your every move since you’ve never been a Princess in the first place.

«We’re both obviously new to this,» Hyunjin nodded, before scratching the back of his head in a shy manner. «But I promise I’ll do my best to make it work.» you smiled at him, silently thanking the heaves for your luck, before reciprocating his promise.

If three months ago, the day you cried yourself to sleep at the unexpected news, someone would have told you that you’d be finding yourself falling in love with your future husband, you would have probably curse at them in a very un-lady like manner.

But yet, there you were, involuntary playing hide and seek with Hyunjin in the small maze inside their garden, trying to find a decent hiding spot while trying to hold back your laughter.

«Really?» Hyunjin asked as he almost appeared out of thin air, walking out from the turn next to yours. «You think I wouldn’t catch up?» he asked, and with a rush of adrenaline, you sprinted out from the blind spot where you were hiding, only for him to almost immediately stop your foolish and useless escape by tightly holding your waist; knowing that there was no use trying to outwit him when he probably knew the maze’s pattern by heart, you gave in with a small yelp as soon as your back crashed against his body due to him pulling your frame to his. With a small pout, you let Hyunjin turn you around, his arms still loosely hugging your waist.

«I could walk around here with my eyes closed,» Hyunjin said, faking an arrogant tone, a slight pant in his breath matching yours.

«So?» you asked, your hands on his chest and your gaze locking in a silent challenge.

«So,» Hyunjin’s voice lowered to a mumble, «Running away from me is useless.» he added, and his lips slowly inched towards yours, searching in your eyes any kind of doubt or refusal, leaving you all the time in the world to walk away from his embrace. Hyunjin never found a trace of doubt in your eyes, and so you stood on your tiptoes, closing the space between you and felt Hyunjin smile into the kiss as he held you closer to his body.

That kiss was the first one of many, countless, infinite kisses shared between the two of you, with innocent hearts full of love.

Even if you loved and trusted Hyunjin, you never told him the truth; even if you thought that you couldn’t live a lie for your whole life, you still couldn’t bring yourself to face the consequences of him finding out about your identity.

Deep down, you knew that Hyunjin didn’t fall in love with you for your status and you doubted he would care whether you were born in the royal family or not, but you also knew that this kind of lie was classified as treason, and you couldn’t bring yourself to face Hyunjin’s disappointment towards you.

Illezra kept sending you letters, and you had a very secret correspondence with her, which apparently was trying to let her parents accept her relationship and make her a Duchess so that her and her lover could be together. Despite being happy for her, these letters were the constant reminder of your lies, and Hyunjin never said anything as he saw you glancing sadly out of the window. He would simply hug you, kiss your head and mumbling that since you were homesick, as soon as you got married, he would love to visit your kingdom, too. Hyunjin’s kindness made you wonder if you really deserved him.

Approximatively six months after your arrival, strange rumours started to spread out among the royal council. Needless to say, those rumours completely revolved around your identity, but you’d never heard about them until eventually, it was too late.

By now, Hyunjin had sneaked into your bedroom a countless times, only to leave in order to return to his before morning came – his room was adjacent to yours, so he just needed to open a small door and throw himself in the bed of the communicant room right before his butler came to wake him up.

As cliché as it was, you believed you could never get enough of the feeling of Hyunjin’s warm body against yours, and for him, it was just the same. There was something about Hyunjin moaning your name as he came while trying to keep his voice low that you couldn’t help but love; there was something about the sense of intimacy of Hyunjin passionately making love to you every night that you could not help but wish for those moments to last forever.

Happiness proved itself to be such a fleeting feeling, as one day you returned to your room, only to see Hyunjin partially leaning against your desk, an unreadable expression on his face while holding an envelope you immediately recognized.

«What are you doing?» you asked, your voice trembling in fear as your hands weakly gripped the door’s golden handle behind your back.

«Why are you reading my-» with a rush of emotion, you tried to approach him with the intent of taking the letter out of his hands – even if you knew it was probably too late, when Hyunjin held his hand in mid-air, signalling you to stop.

«This letter comes from the Princess,» Hyunjin said, and your heart sank as you heard his cold tone, «which is very weird, because I’m marrying her in three days.» you felt the blood drain from your face, Hyunjin was about to find out the truth and all you could do was standing there, petrified. You held Hyunjin’s emotionless gaze while tears started to cloud your view, realizing that Hyunjin was blocking you out and showing you the face he showed to everyone else, and not the innocent eyes full of emotion you fell in love with.

Hyunjin effortlessly broke the royal sealing wax while still holding your gaze, the small noise of wax being torn was the only sound echoing in the room.

«Dear Princess,» Hyunjin began to read Illezra’s neat calligraphy, «I deeply wish your marriage is working out, and your fiancée is half as good as mine. I will never stop reminding you that I’m sorry, and that I’m infinitely thankful to you for taking my place.» Hyunjin scoffed, before throwing the letter on the table without bothering to read the rest of it. «Care to explain?» his harsh tone softened for a moment at the sight of your panicked state, but his disappointment was too great.

Hyunjin politely waited for you to talk with his hands crossed in front of his chest, as if the gesture would have helped him to keep in one place the world about to crash on him. You did not know why, but still you could not bring yourself to say a word; the thoughts of having disappointed both the man you loved and your kingdom were the only thoughts swirling around your head and with another scoff, Hyunjin stood up, walking past your frame and in his room without sharing another word.

For the first time since you arrived there, Hyunjin locked the door connecting your rooms, and you broke down in silent tears, kneeling in the middle of your room oh a Thursday morning, three days before your marriage.

You knew that you both did not have any task for the day, since you could hear Hyunjin moving around in the room next to yours. You spent half of your day sitting next to the door, not even bothering to change in more informal clothes, before few drops of common sense decided to silently make their way back into your head.

«Would Illezra go down without a fight?» you whispered to yourself. «Neither am I.» you sighed and stood up, walking to your nightstand and taking out a small key and a big amount of letters tied up with a silk ribbon from the top drawer.

«I have a spare key, Hyunjin,» you said loudly as you approached the door, «And I’m not afraid to use it.» you politely waited, deciding that if he didn’t unlock the door by himself, you would have done that. You were about to marry, but most importantly, you were in love; you’d never let anything walk between the two of you.

Surprisingly enough, Hyunjin unlocked the door few seconds later, and you stormed into his room and immediately sat on his bed, facing him, which was staring at you, confused at your sudden bravery and wondering why you decided to bring so many letters along.

When Hyunjin first asked you to explain, you wondered for a moment about lying through your teeth, but who would want a marriage based on lies? Certainly, not you.

Therefore, with that thought resonating in your head and in your heart, you told Hyunjin everything. With hesitant steps, Hyunjin slowly sat next to you on his canopy bed, as he listened to anything and everything you had to say; you told him about how the news crashed down on you and how about since then, you have felt pressured of living by the standards of living and behaving like people expected and imposed you to do. Hyunjin held your hand as your confession of you being terrified of this whole situation, but also the fact of not wanting to get married to a stranger.

«You could have been anyone,» you said, wiping another tear that effortlessly escaped your now puffy eyes, «I was terrified of you being old and ugly and evil.» you admitted, a small and sad smile appearing on Hyunjin’s lips which you didn’t see, too busy playing with his fingers interlocked with yours.

Hyunjin politely waited for you to finish your outburst, while never letting go or stop caressing your hand. «I can’t find a reason to blame you, but» Hyunjin’s gentle voice said. «I want to know if you meant what happened between us, or it was just part of what your King ordered you to do.» he asked, and as your eyes locked for the first time after you walked into his room, you saw Hyunjin looking so vulnerable you felt your heart tremble.

«It wasn’t a lie.» you quickly shook your head, relaxing a bit seeing Hyunjin’s soft smile once again. «I could never lie about loving you.» you admitted, and Hyunjin hugged you, affectionately kissing the side of your head as you wiped the last tears escaping your eyes.

«Then, I don’t care, the rumours will eventually stop.» Hyunjin sighed. «You’re going to be my wife, and married couples are allowed to keep secrets.» you nodded, hugging him back and wondering what were the chances of you finding such a gentle and caring boy as Hyunjin as your future husband.

«I’m sorry, too.» Hyunjin broke the comfortable silence that enveloped the two of you, now cuddling on his bed – with some difficulty, due to your formal clothes. «I was too focused on the fact that you lied, that I didn’t consider that you had more than valid reasons to do so.» Hyunjin’s words were soft and sincere, and you instantly cuddled closer to his chest, whispering not to worry.

«I never believed I would fall in love,» he chuckled, talking more to himself, «And yet, here I am.»

«Here we are.» you gently pointed out, and he simply answered by kissing the top of your head.

«Yeah, here we are.» Hyunjin mumbled softly, few moments later.

Now, if you thought that Hyunjin’s Castle and the room you have been given were expensive looking, you definitely did not expect the wedding to look so… extravagant.

If you were still living as a lady in waiting, your marriage would have been a humble ceremony into the town’s chapel but as a Princess, you were about to walk into the Capital’s Cathedral, your path surrounded by sumptuous and expensive decorations and unknown faces focusing on any detail from your hair to your dress, which made you look like as if you walked out from a fairy tale – a bit too much for your tastes, but Hyunjin’s face as he saw you was enough to forget everything, from your doubt about the veil being too long, to your discomfort at being once again the centre of attention, to your fears about tripping on your feet.

«You look stunning.» Hyunjin mouthed as soon as you stopped in front of him, and you instantly rolled your eyes as a wide blush covered your cheeks.

The ceremony went smoothly and rather quickly, unlike what you expected. Hyunjin kissed you longer than he was supposed to, with both his hands on your cheeks, and since then you couldn’t focus on anything else but the lingering taste of his lips on yours and the feeling of absolute happiness you felt anytime your eyes met.

«Organizing a surprise in three days is almost impossible, but I hope you’re going to like my special gift.» Hyunjin smiled as he led you away from the crowd of people attending your wedding reception, and your brows furrowed in confusion.

Hyunjin slightly turned towards you only to offer you a wink, looking even more handsome now that he had unbuttoned the first two buttons of his white shirt; even if you asked him few times what he meant, he never gave you a proper answer, and so you trusted him, until he led you to the marble bench where you comfortably sat under the moonlight on the first night you met.

Hyunjin abruptly stopped and you almost crashed against his body, but managed to stop just in time; you were about to ask him why did he stop so suddenly, when your attention was caught by a very familiar figure now standing up from the bench.

There was no way you could confuse her petite figure, the way she held her fan, or simply the way she brushed his gown exactly two seconds after she stood up; after all, you spent years living with her, and you knew that probably at some point, even your heartbeats were synchronized.

«Illezra?!» you asked, dumbfounded, but also feeling your heart speed up with excitement; you looked at Hyunjin, asking for a silent confirmation that you weren’t having hallucinations due to your corset being too tight, and as soon as he nodded, you ran towards her.

Illezra immediately hugged you close, her sweet perfume enveloping you and making you feel like you were in the privacy of her sumptuous bedroom instead of a Castle’s garden, you hugged her even closer, and the two of you stayed like that for a while. The hug you and Illezra shared held a silent conversation full of “I’m sorry”, “I’m glad this worked out”, in base of how tight you were hugging each other; a small cough caught your attention, and you shifted your attention to the figure behind Illezra, before detaching from her, which still tightly held your hand.

«You’d be happy to hear that we can freely hang out with Duchess Illezra and her husband, from now on.» Hyunjin’s soft voice said as he gently wrapped his arm around your waist.

«Duchess?» you incredulously asked her, your eyes widening in surprise. Illezra simply nodded, and officially introduced you to the Duke, which you’ve heard her talk about for countless nights.

«I owe you a lot,» Illezra said, clutching your intertwined fingers against her chest, but you simply shook your head. The four of you spent part of the afternoon by yourselves, before joining once again the other guests and excusing yourselves for having ran off; you could not stop thanking Hyunjin for this surprise – you never thought you could meet Illezra in public ever again, but he simply shrugged anytime you mentioned it, leaning in to peck your lips in a soft and sweet kiss.

Despite the day went great and you felt the happiest you’ve ever felt, there was a thing you actually feared: your first night as a married couple. You and Hyunjin have made love a countless number of times by now, hidden in the shadows of your bedroom, but you knew about a particular fucked up tradition that royals had.

Apparently, both for good auspicious and in order to verify the first night of marriage was consumed, the heavy curtains of the canopy bed would be tightly closed while outside; few members of the court would wait for the couple to finish their intercourse.

Of course, both you and Hyunjin weren’t exactly happy about it, but you both knew that refusing this stupid ceremony meant that someone could have contested the veracity of the marriage.

Hyunjin sat right in front of you on the soft mattress of the room you’ll be sharing from now on, his legs crossed while mirroring your posture, looking at you with an amused yet shy smile. You shrugged, covering your eyes in embarrassment knowing that a layer of fabric was separating you and your husband from indiscreet eyes; you opted for re-adjust your positions in order to cuddle, chuckling at how surreal this situation was.

«I’m really not fond of having an audience.» you mumbled, caressing Hyunjin’s hair while he had his head on your chest; you felt him nod against your skin.

«Neither I am,» he admitted, shifting just enough to place his chin on top of your breast to look at you. «We don’t have to do anything, if you’re not comfortable.» he added, and you loved how considerate he was being once again. You sighed a little too loudly, immediately covering your mouth since that sigh could be misinterpreted, and Hyunjin’s head followed your chest’s movement with an amused smile on his lips.

«As long as you hold my hand, I suppose I’m gonna be okay.» you furrowed your brows, running your hand through Hyunjin’s long and soft hair, and he closed his eyes in bliss at the sensation of your fingers playing with it.

«We can stop anytime,» Hyunjin mumbled, supporting his weight on his arms while hovering above you, «and just jump on the bed while moaning randomly.» he added, barely above a whisper, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his childish yet mischievous expression.

A thing Hyunjin was exceptionally good was keeping promises; for the whole night, he kept holding your hand, from the moment his fingers were buried deep inside you, to the moment where his length was moving with hard and deep strokes. Hyunjin had one hand buried in the mattress, right next to your head, while the other was tightly intertwined with yours; while your free hand was tightly placed in front of your mouth to muffle your moans, despite the sound of the bed creaking and slamming against the wall was giving away pretty obviously that you decided to act up to your duties.

Hyunjin was staring at you with hooded eyes, silently loving how your body was so responsive and sensitive to his touch; his eyes glanced to his left, and he stilled his hips inside you with a harsh thrust, making you whine while arching your back and closing your legs around his hips in the desperate attempt to make him sink deeper. Opening your eyes, you saw Hyunjin’s mischievous eyes focusing on the hand in front of your mouth, before he eventually shifted to partially support his weight on his elbow, his sweaty and hot body now pressed flush against yours, making you instinctively clench around his length.

«Let them hear, sweetie.» Hyunjin sinfully mumbled against your hear, slowly placing his right hand over the one you had on your mouth in order to slowly moving it away, allowing you to decide if you were comfortable with it. Once again, Hyunjin saw no trace of doubts in your eyes as he slowly leaned back, and he just smirked, moving his hips in order to create some friction between your bodies; you shut your eyes with a deep intake of breath, his stiff length filling you up just perfectly. «Let them know who’s make you feel so good» he added, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as his warm, big hand delicately caressed your body only for it to stop under your left tight just to lift it up while slightly spreading it even more. «Who’s making you this wet.» Hyunjin’s soft moans in your ear were about to make you see stars, and you sank your nails in his left hand – which was still interlocked with yours, as he proved his point with a harsh thrust which only made you whimper a loud «Please.»

Hyunjin’s cocky attitude only came out when you were having sex, so the fact that he kept moving in slow strokes while raising his eyebrow and mumbling an innocent «Please, what?» didn’t surprise you, on the contrary, it made you even wetter, if possible. If you thought that there was something fucked up about part of the royal court waiting for two people to finish their sexual intercourse while standing outside a canopy bed staring at some closed curtains, you also believed that there was something fucked up about both you and Hyunjin obviously enjoying it. There was something about Hyunjin’s body – how perfectly it moved against yours and how you felt like two puzzle pieces finally connecting, which always had the ability to bring you on your knees, figuratively and metaphorically.

«I’m yours, please.» you whined, already too far gone to properly answer to Hyunjin’s request, but he complied nonetheless, and he started to move at a slight faster place while holding your left leg higher, in order to have a deeper access into you.

The surreal situation you were in, added to Hyunjin’s praises on how good you were and how perfectly tight you felt, accompanied by the harsh movements of his hips, quickly helped you to build up your orgasm, and in return, your loud moans and pleads added to the fact that you kept writhing in pleasure under your husband’s body in order to feel even closer to him, quickly helped Hyunjin to quickly approach his own. Hyunjin came with a loud groan, his brows furrowed together and his eyes tightly closed as he buried himself inside you, and that vision alone triggered your orgasm as well. Hyunjin welcomed you back from your post orgasm state while rubbing your noses together, and you leaned in to peck his lips with a soft giggle while your heart softened at the feeling of your hands still locked together.

Both of you turned your attention to the sound of steps hurriedly exiting the room, and as the door closed, leaving you two finally alone, Hyunjin captured your lips in a sweet and passionate kiss, his long strands of hair resting on your forehead in the process; you gently pushed on his shoulder, signalling him to roll back, and he eagerly complied, careful to not slid out of you as you were now sitting on top of him.

«Always so eager,» Hyunjin mumbled, his hands naturally gripping your hips as your mouth came in contact with the bare and sweaty skin of his neck, marking it up to your heart’s content. Now, you finally had the night for yourselves.

The following day, you and Hyunjin couldn’t help but giggle to yourselves as apparently, the court’s member couldn’t hold your gaze any longer.

«Do you think we somehow scared them?» you whispered to him, hiding part of your face behind your pastel green fan.

«Probably,» Hyunjin chuckled, «And this is why I believe,» he said, circling your hips with his strong arms, «That in order to remind them who’s in charge, we should renew our vows every ten years.»

«You’re an pervert,» You blushed, hitting his shoulder with your now closed fan, «Once was more than enough.» Hyunjin hummed, giving you a playful smirk, «You definitely looked like you were enjoying it-»

«Hyunjin!» you laughed, placing a hand on his lips, in order to prevent him from finishing his sentence, and you quickly glanced around just in case someone could have heard. Something wet met the palm of your hand, and you retreated it, looking at Hyunjin with an incredulous yet amused expression.

«Did you just lick my hand?» you asked, and Hyunjin shrugged, before you both laughed together.

At least, your marriage wasn’t going to be boring.

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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