#work again. its all just been so stressful

[urstruly-ghst]

the 1 - the second years !

in which you return home with one last message: it would've been you.

author's note: love when we get to go home! but the cost?

cw: swearing

riddle rosehearts

how dare you?— that was riddle's first thought when you came to his dorm, ecstatic with the prospect of coming home. however, he knew that was selfish— his rose was finally getting their wish come true! what more can he ask?

yet, as he reaches out to your arm before you are whisked away, he only had one question: was he the one? the one you wish to have lived a humble life with? the one who would've been by your side for how long time will permit?

you smiled sadly, because, as much as you are ecstatic, you are gutted at the prospect of leaving him. he was one of your favorite— scratch that, he was your favorite part of twisted wonderland. he was your destined soulmate. how cruel was it for you to figure that out when you don't belong in his world.

"riddle, if i could just easily go back on forth... i would, because you are it, riddle. you're my..." you choked up and looked down at your interlocked hands,

"you're the one." riddle choked

ruggie bucchi

why was he here? ruggie asked as you snuck him out for something. he noticed you seem happier yet withdrawn. he reached out and when you spat you're going home? he froze and nearly wanted to leave you.

ruggie didn't need someone else to abandon him, not after all the shit he put through to make things work out. he's pissed, understandably so, but he also can't help but feel defeated. this "talk" could've been his time at work, he reasoned, but here he was— shattered at the prospect.

his first question was, why? he never had someone genuinely care for him that doesn't benefit them besides his family. so when you and him make it past that enormous mountain of doubt, it was a big deal. now here you are, leaving him for what? as he looked at you, he can't help but feel angry and worst of all, sad. because he usually finds ways, but here, he's defenseless once more.

"leave then." ruggie said as he tried to hide his flattened ears and teary eyes. you reach out to him and whispered your dreams of spending your last days with him.

"i would've loved nothing more than to grow old with you, stressing over bills and making ends meet... and maybe you'll find someone else, someone sweeter and..." you caress his face and smile. "and someone who'll be with you till they get to see you succeed."

azul ashengrotto

its unfair. azul would say, you were supposed to be with him until... then again, was there ever a contract? he prides himself that no one gets away from his grasp, yet here he is, losing the most important person he dreamed to have stayed.

azul dreamed of any outcome, just not this. he laughed, foolish enough to think you would've stayed forever. as you both huddle in your private space in the vip room, he can't help but want to make a deal with you, some deal to make you stay. why not delay for a year? a decade? but as he stared at your longing eyes, he knew he had to let you go.

but he can't help but wonder. you saw how azul accepted that the leech twins will leave him the moment the time comes, it took some time... but he surrendered to that fact long ago. azul blames himself for not doing the same with your departure. he should've kept some piece of himself behind, but how foolish is he to give you his whole heart.

"perhaps we can... my dear.. please" azul hiccuped as he hugged you and unable to find it in his mind to make you stay.

"azul..." you coo, "if i had a say in this, i would've... i would've loved to live this life with you. i would've loved to see you grow your empire and well... i would've been there in every waking moment to see you become the man you dream to be." you smile and kiss his head

"and if anything, i can see you becoming that amazing man." as you shakily kissed him, "you're the one i wish i can spend my whole life with"

jade leech

if you thought he'd not fight with you, you're dead wrong. you're welcome to sit there and think he'd grovel, but he's executing every means to delay you. but once he realizes he cannot keep you any longer, he just sits there in shock.

why? why aren't you going to fight against this? wasn't he a dream of yours? was he not worth the fight? he conjured up so many questions and unabashedly used some of his unique spell so you can speak your truth, and it hurt when you answer in full honesty.

can't he just whisk you away? why aren't you... you both sit together in pain and longing. so many times has jade gotten his way this was one of the first... it hurts. he stayed there holding you close, foolishy listening to your heartbeat.

"jade...?" you whispered, "i love you" he nodded with tears in his eyes. he whispered his reply and he glared at the fact you were honest. he wishes you lied, to make him feel angry... but..

"if i could lie to you, i would've. but jade, i meant it. you're the one. i wish i could say you weren't. it would've been easier but... hey, when did i ever choose easy?"

floyd leech

he squeezed you. he didn't want you to leave. it was not fair. floyd wasn't the type to let go and accept things so easily. you were his, the moment he saw you, but why don't you fucking act like it?

you hiccuped as you were taken into his arms, he was convinced you wouldn't be taken away. floyd opened up to you, he told you things not even his twin would know. who else would be his shrimpy? who else would make things count now.

as he hiccuped and held you tightly, you gave him the dreams you wish to have shared with him. and while floyd doubts he'll get your dreams with how he might avoid it, any connection of you, you smile and just believed him.

"i was wrong about you. you proved to me how fun it was to be loved and love crazy. so floyd, prove me wrong again, and prove to me i wasn't the one for you. but, if i can be selfish, i want you to know you can never..." you gasp for air as you regret saying it, "you can never disprove how you're the one for me."

kalim al asim

he was used to losses, kalim can just find new things. but not with you. never with you. irreplaceable was the only word for you, there could only be one you. kalim wasn't prepared to lose you too.

kalim promises he'll be good, he'll go the extra mile, he begs at your feet. you couldn't leave, no. only you could've broken him down to pieces. your sunshine was what he was missing and what he yearns for every waking moment. humor him, stay.

"i could be more... or i could also!" kalim has begged and traded anything he can for the nth time. you shake your head, giving him the biggest smile you can.

"i don't need anything from you." you say as you told him everything he needed to hear, from you, "because you've given me the world, im sorry if i couldn't have given you half of what you gave me. kalim, find someone that your heart desires, screw what your baba thinks. you deserve the world. you're my greatest treasure, so you deserve at the very least the world with love"

jamil viper

jamil reasoned he should've known better. good things end up gone when it came to him. he wondered if this was some cruel prank you did, to make him face reality. but you weren't.

you sat there with a big sad smile and told him why you're leaving. it wasn't because of x or y, it was just you wanted home. jamil should've known that, but he didn't believe it. why didn't he?

jamil curses himself, he prides on knowing what to do next but he's here dumbfounded and once again one upped by you. yet, as you both accept you'll leave, jamil whispers lowly how he wishes he can be free to choose to run with you

"as stupid as it sounds, i want to run off with you" you laugh and smile. jamil looked away and just shrugged, but you looked down and talked lowly

"i wish i can say "be stupid". but hey, don't. you're too good to run away now. jamil, you're amazing. if only i could see what you'll be in the future, i would be cheering on how you were not stupid." you both laugh as you shared one last night together

"and when time passes, just know, jamil, you were the one i know will rise above everyone else."

"and you would be the one responsible as to why i didn't fail" jamil responded

silver

in dreams, silver had visions of you and him sharing a life. you both were delusional to believe the dreams, when the vision was hazy at best. but, two hearts can dream, right?

silver was shattered when you told him that you'll leave. he wondered if he still had the right to dream about you and him. you reached out to him and told him the honest truth, no. he can't dream about you anymore, not when you were never to be seen again

but, unknown to you, the last night you had with him, he dreamt of you two once more. intertwining your last dream together. let silver be selfish, for these dreams are what his heart kept desiring for.

"what did i tell you." you smile as you are welcomed into the dream both of you built together. a small cottage in a far off land, no pain or suffering touches these walls.

"dear, let me be selfish." silver pouts. and you relent, feeling the bitter pain seep in as you realized this dream shall remain only that: a dream.

"how cruel it is, my happy ending won't be with you" silver muses as you held each other, "seven knows i want it to be with you"

"oh trust me, you'll still have your happy ending. much like how i will still get mine. but if wishes and dreams came true? it would've been you, silver"

[rafesbangs]

𝜗𝜚 bunny!reader has always had a thing for a regular at her bookstore, older!rafe only comes in to see her

c!w; mdni !! older!rafe, dom!rafe, bunny!reader, age-gap (reader is 18+), size kink, rafe gets called 'daddy' a few times, dirty talk, mutual pining obviously, 'unprotected' sex, p in v, creampie, overstimulation (if you squint), cum play, cum eating, oral (f. receiving)

notes; i had such bad writer's block during the making of this so i apologise if this isn't my best work... also its kinda long before the smut but it needed some plot !!

you'd just gotten a job at a new cozy bookstore in town. it was perfect, had rows and rows of every genre of book a person could think of and a lovely little cafe with a cozy area to read in too. you loved working there, and had recently gotten much more comfortable after finally getting the hang of everything.

there were quite a few regulars that would come in for the coffee and a book, lots were mothers with quiet children that would sit down in the children's corner and read, others were just people of all ages that particularly enjoyed sitting in the bookstore for hours.

you were stacking shelves the first time you saw him; tall, gorgeous and smiling slightly under his cute scruffy moustache. he was flicking through the non-fiction books. though he didn't look like someone that read, adorned in workwear and partially grubby clothing, most likely from his blue collar job.

you could tell he was definitely older, around ten years your senior but still so pretty. after that first minor interaction you started seeing him come in a lot more, every other day basically. you'd worked up the courage to say hi to him after a few more times of seeing him and although your face was probably bright red, he smiled wide and started a conversation with you.

after the ice had been broken you would always talk to him when he came into the bookstore, it got to a point where he wasn't even pretending to be interested in the books around him anymore, he obviously had come in there to see you again.

rafe had also started coming in early before work started, he looked so good in his carhartt jacket and big boots, not yet dirty from a days work. he'd make sure you were the one to make his coffee, always mumbling something about you having a secret gift as he grinned, letting his hand linger over yours when he'd take his cup.

the tension between the two of you was palpable, your friends and co-workers would make jokes about how no one needed to read romance books in there anymore, they had a whole story playing out in front of them.

you would always laugh and smile at their comments, smitten over the idea of being with rafe but there was always the lingering thought that it was just friendly flirting. nothing more. he probably had a girlfriend, or a wife or something. he was too old and too gorgeous, why would he actually want anything to do with little old you.

these thoughts had you spiralling significantly on one particular day; what if you were wasting all your time and feelings on this older guy that would never want you? would you ever get over him? would you be alone forever?

you were zoning out - hard - as you slid the last few books of your shift onto the shelf, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw him standing in front of you with a grin.

"sorry, did i give you a fright?" he mumbled, steadying you with his touch, "'thought you'd heard me when i said y'name but there must be s'much goin' on in that head of yours."

you took a breathe and smiled weakly at him, not being able to shake your pessimistic thoughts from seconds before as he stood in front of you, handsome and speaking.

"no, sorry- lots on my mind i guess" you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers. rafe's brow furrowed, he'd seen you stressed and frustrated because of work but never like this, anxious and pensive.

he tilted his head a little, "what's wrong hm?" he softly coaxed, looking deep into your eyes as he reached out and rubbed your arm with his thumb.

you looked up at him through your lashes, "nothing.. nothing really..." you mumbled, chewing your lip a little.

his gaze darkened as he watched you, "something you wanna ask me bunny?"

you shook your head after shuddering at the nickname. a nickname only rafe used with you, it never failed to give you goosebumps down your body and cause your thighs to squeeze together a little, "don't worry.. er, i'm about to close up in a minute - you don't mind walking me to my car do you?"

his pursed lips melted into a smile and he looked up for a second before nodding. you smiled at him before finally putting away the last few things and grabbing the bookstore's keys. rafe followed you out as you left the store and locked the doors from the outside.

"cold tonight hmm" rafe remarked, looking out at the dim parking lot and neighbouring streets as he walked close to you. you hummed in agreement, readjusting the jacket tighter around you.

when you finally reached your car you looked up at him with a longing smile before he tilted his head, grinning at you, "you gonna tell me what you were thinking about earlier?"

you shook your head, nerves chewing at your lip again.

"c'mon, 'm not gonna see you tomorrow, 'ts your day off bunny, can't make me just wonder all this time hm?" he playfully whined, inching his body closer to yours. you were a little stunned by his words.

"you remember my day off's tomorrow?" the nerves were rising in your tummy now, bubbling around and exploding.

he smirked, sliding your hand into his, "course i'd know when the only reason i go into that bookshop isn't there."

"rafe" you gushed, covering your face a little and shaking your head. you couldn't believe your ears, you thought you weren't stupid or anything but here you were, hearing that he wanted you the whole time. "i thought you were just.. i don't know, entertaining the idea of me this whole time..."

his lips parted and brow furrowed as if it was completely incomprehensible that he might've not actually wanted you, "bunny... you must be talking pure shit now because i thought i'd made it obvious i wanted you from the second i'd gotten to know you."

you chewed at your lip, heat pooling in your tummy as he instinctively inched closer to you as he spoke. all you wanted to do now was jump his bones, and you kept glancing down at the bulge in his pants as it became closer and closer to you.

he noticed your wandering eyes and laughed a little, throwing his head back before sliding both hands up your arms carefully, "...so you said you don't have heating huh?"

you nodded, feeling dizzy at the realisation of what he was about to ask you.

he scoffed with a grin, "see, i've got heating at my place that works pretty well, and - bunny, with the way you're looking at me right now, i think we're better off going there."

you smiled, staring up at him through your lashes before nodding and in an instant he'd grabbed your hand, leading you to his truck. the drive was probably fairly quick, but it felt like hours of agony to the both of you as you patiently waited. rafe's hand was possessively gripping your thigh and you felt wetness in your panties thinking about where else his hands would trail to.

it was a blur, stumbling out of his truck and into his house, you barely looked at the place before the two of you, sloppy and all over each other, had made it to his bedroom. your body was on vibrate but he took a second to take his huge jacket and long sleeve shirt off.

you breathed heavily, eyes widening when street light through the window illuminated his toned chest, he was built like a greek god and you nearly moaned at the thought of all that being all over you.

he teasingly peeled your clothes off, article by article, grinning all the way. he could see you twitching and heavily breathing at every movement, it only fuelled him more.

finally you were in nothing but panties and a bra, matching of course, which made rafe's eyes go wild, "jesus, look at you." he breathed, running his hands along the side of your body as you lay under him.

you slid your arms around his neck and tried to pull him in but he grinned at your lack of strength and you frowned playfully, squirming at the lack of action.

"you gonna ask nicely bunny?" his lips were centimetres away from yours, he was really enjoying teasing you now.

"please... please i want you inside me so bad" you whined, pouting and running your hands into his shaggy mullet. he smirked and leaned in, passionately pressing his lips to yours, engulfing you in heat.

your hands pulled at his jeans, ripping down the zipper as you slid a palm across his clothed cock, gasping at his lips over how big you found him to be.

he tugged himself out of his boxers before lowering down to your core, you burned with desire as you watched the greek god looming over you, slowly bully his cock into your weeping hole.

you groaned at the feeling, his cock slowly slipping all the way down, filling you to the hilt. your grip around his neck tightened, along with his hands holding you steady at your hips.

he drilled into you at an unrelenting pace, the sound of his cock diving in and out of your wet pussy causing him to groan gutturally, "uhghh, you like this big cock baby? c'mon, tell me you've been thinking about daddy's cock since you met me hmm"

you eyes were rolling back, the pleasure becoming too much already, "mmmh i think about daddy's cock all the time... oh! fuuuck."

you looked down at your tummy, a clear huge bulge poking everytime rafe drove his dick into you, only making you dizzier. he was just so big.

a creamy line of arousal was thick around the base of rafe's cock, your breath all ragged as he continued to drill into you, toying with your clit to overstimulate you.

you were shaking under him, one hand gripping onto a bicep and the other tugging the sheets beside you. the sheer girth of him was splitting you open, rafe grinned at the yelps escaping your lips with every thrust.

"pussy's swallowing me whole, fuck bunny" he grunted into your lips, launching in for yet another seering kiss while his thrusts became sloppy but deeper. plap-plap-plap filled the room along with your pornographic moans.

"nghh daddy, i'm- oh, g'na cum!" you cried, nails digging into his flesh.

he was panting into your neck, "'know baby, can feel your pussy milking me- fuuuuuck" you felt the rush of your orgasm as rafe's thick white ropes coated your insides. he continued to thrust into you a few more times, watching your pussy swallow all his cum before pulling out.

"such a good bunny, look at that shit.." he mumbled, dragging a finger over your wet whole, playing with and pushing his release back into you. "so wet..."

he dipped his head down, lapping up both your juices that had coated your folds. you twitched from the sensation, still recovering from his cock.

"rafeee- oh god- too sensitive.." you whined, hand laced in his hair. he lifted his head and looked at you with a grin, his moustache gleaming with wetness.

"oh bunny now that i've had you, shit, i'm never letting my little girl go."

[leighsartworks216]

It's Nothing

Sylus x AFAB!Reader

Inspired by my late as fuck period and joking with my friend that I was the next virgin mary. Not proofread cuz I want to post it but I'm tired of looking at it

Warnings: pregnancy scare, menstruation, period fic, anxiety, overthinking, lack of communication, communication, silly, cuddling, kissing, swearing

Word Count: 1,450

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

"Sweetie? What has you so distracted lately?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all! I was just, uh- thinking about work, that's all!"

"You're a terrible liar. Tell me what's wrong."

"It's-" You falter, searching desperately for an excuse and coming up woefully empty "It's really nothing, Sy. I'll tell you at some point, just..."

"... Just not right now." He sighs, but nods, dismissing the subject. A frown lingers on his face as he turns back to the movie. "I trust you, sweetie," he says after a long pause, when it seemed the topic had been dropped completely.

The guilt sinks down into your stomach, but you bite your tongue and cuddle further into his side. The rest of the night remains tense.

You want to tell him. Admit what's on your mind. Finally release this stress from your body. But you can't! Because... what if he leaves you? And maybe you're just being paranoid for nothing - but you can't take that risk, not with Sylus, of all people.

Your period is over a week late. That's not terribly unusual, but it is suspicious given the fact you've stopped using protection in the bedroom. Well, not necessarily stopped, since you're on birth control, but things get heated and he's finished inside of you without a condom. So... what if your birth control didn't do its job 100%? You know there’s a small percentage of it failing, so what if this time is the time it chooses to be ineffective?

Dr. Zayne is the only person you've told about your fears, when you went in for a checkup and nervously asked if he could run a pregnancy test for you. You're not sure if being your childhood friend made the next line of questioning about your sex life more or less awkward. You do know that that test came back negative... But Zayne said after the fact that it could be too early to tell.

So all you can really do now is wait until you do or don't get your period again.

You know it bothers Sylus a lot, your secrecy. You two have both progressed so far in learning how to trust each other, even with the stupid things. This just... doesn't feel like one of those stupid things. You've only just put a name to the relationship, you don't want to ruin that now when things are so new and nice.

So you hold it in. You try your damndest to put it on the back burner and show him as best you can that everything is fine and that you still love and trust him.

You wake up with your body's internal clock. With the N109 Zone being so dark, knowing when day is is a bit tricky. But, Sylus is asleep beside you, laying on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow. He doesn't have a shirt on. A wide expanse of tan skin and rippling muscle is left exposed as the blankets all pool around his hips.

You smile to yourself, albeit a bit mournfully. You're glad he's still sleeping beside you, even if you've both been a bit rocky lately. It's all your fault - you know. You'll make it up to him somehow. You have to.

Slowly, as quietly as you can, you slip out of bed and creep to the bathroom...

"Sy!" You see him startle out of sleep, hand already wrapped around the gun under his pillow as he sits up, searching for the danger.

"What is it?" he asks sharply. You run and jump onto the bed, landing partially on top of him. He tosses the gun onto his nightstand and lifts you by the waist to reposition you into his lap as he sits up properly. "What's got you so excited?"

"I'm not pregnant!"

He blinks up at you with a frown. You grab his shoulders like an excited kid, looking at him expectantly. He feels like he’s skipped several chapters into a book and the plot twist reveal isn’t making any sense. "What are you talking about, sweetie?"

You're practically vibrating in his lap with energy. It's the most light he's seen in your eyes for the last week and a half. It's... relieving. "I'm not pregnant! We haven't been as careful with protection lately and then my period was supposed to come, but it didn't, so I had a pregnancy test done, but Zayne said it could be too early to tell when it came back negative, so I've been waiting and waiting to know if I really am and-! And I'm not! I'm bleeding again, Sylus! I'm not pregnant!"

He shakes his head, brow pinched with a pained expression. "That's the 'nothing' you've been distracted by all week?"

"Um..." You grin sheepishly. "Yeah?"

He takes a moment, eyes closed and lips drawn into a frown. That guilt that settled in your stomach during your movie night returns, doubled in intensity. You got over-worried and kept secrets from your boyfriend, when you could have just told him from the start how weird it was that your period is late and how worried you are about what it could mean.

"Sy...?"

"Mmm."

"Are you mad at me?"

He finally opens his eyes. The expression eases slightly as he shakes his head with a sigh. "Have the cramps hit yet?"

You shake your head. "Um, no?"

Suddenly, his arms are wrapped around you and your world tilts on its axis. A heavy weight settles above you. Sylus's nose presses against your neck. "Good. Let's stay here for when they do."

You try to wriggle loose. He tightens his hold around you and nips at your skin sharply. You jolt, but it stops your struggling. “Why do we have to stay here for my cramps?”

“Because, sweetie,” he sighs. You’d think he’s annoyed, if it weren’t for the way he runs his nose along the column of your throat and eases his weight fully onto your body. “When your cramps start, you’re going to want a heating pad and a massage. And since you hate my massages-“

“I do not!”

“-it’s better if I just lay here and provide all the heat you desire.”

His logic isn’t faulty… And, honestly, having him so close to you again, without the barrier you built between you both, is really, really nice. So, you relent. You wrap your arms around his neck and begin playing with his hair. He lets out a contented hum, pressing a kiss to your pulse.

“So… you’re not mad at me?” you ask again.

“No, I’m not mad. I was… worried. Suddenly you were pulling away from me with no explanation and no warning. I thought…” You gently pull on his hair to remove his face from your neck. He follows with no resistance, resting his chin on your chest as he looks up at you with such serious eyes, tinged with sleepiness and lingering concern. “I thought you didn’t trust me anymore.”

You frown at the admission. For over a week, he thought you were pulling away because you didn’t trust him… “I guess I didn’t help any, keeping my worries a secret…” He doesn’t agree, but you see a slight quirk in his brow. “I’m sorry, Sy. I didn’t… I just… This is so new. I was worried that if I was pregnant, you’d be upset or leave me or something.”

He scoffs. “I’m not so easily scared off, kitten.”

“And I know that now.” You lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter shut, furrow in his brow relaxing. When you pull away, they open to look at you once again. “I promise, from now on, I won’t keep secrets like that from you anymore. You’ll be the first to know if I’m worried about anything.”

He grins slightly. “Thank you, sweetie. I promise to be just as honest with you.”

He lifts himself up just enough to capture your lips. Your mouths move together in a languid dance, sealing the deal you two have just made. It lasts several minutes. Neither of you really ever want it to end, but Sylus needs his sleep and you’re going to need all his love and care when your uterus decides to rain hellfire on you to make up for lost time. He pulls away slowly, trails light kisses down your jaw, and tucks himself back into your neck.

Everything feels so much more secure now. Despite all your fears, the relationship has grown stronger. And you know, you’re both going to be okay.

-

Bonus:

“Is the thought of having my kids that terrible?”

“You know that’s not why I was worried, you asshole.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[thesongoficeandfir3]

Dark!Aegon i x reader

A/n: 18+ ONLY! reader is a Baratheon but race is NOT mentioned however the reader does have the features of a Baratheon (blue eyes and black hair), reader is female with female anatomy

Warnings: SMUT, DC, power imbalance, age gap (reader is of age), innocence kink? Lmk if I missed any

Would rate 🖤 out of three on dark scale

Would rate 🌶️🌶️ out of five on smut scale

This is my first time writhing smut so sorry if it’s shit 🙃

Might do a dark Maegor or Young Tywin next

- Aegon had always prided himself as being a good man or more so a good man if compared to the many of the corrupt men in Westeros

- He would believe he did not have any darkness in him however, this resolve started to crumble when he met you.

- You were married to one of your father’s vassal houses and had a son however, your husband died fighting one of the many battles in attempt to take over Dorne, and due to the laws your son was sent to live with his paternal family thus leaving you alone once again like before getting married.

- You were still young and fertile and it was not uncommon for a highborn widow to be married again, thus why Orys decided to bring you to the capital where he spent so much time being the king’s hand. The capital always had highborns coming in and out so it was a possibility one of them may be your new husband

- When Aegon first saw you, he immediately was enticed by your beauty. Your hair as dark as the soils of Highgarden flowing down your back, sitting atop your head your mother’s sapphire diadem brought even more attention to your blue eyes, and the gold and black gown you wore clinging to your body beautifully

- He burned the image into his brain the way you nervously dipped your head down when meeting him, your blue eyes scanning his face desperate for his approval. It was almost comical to him how opposite you were to Orys, who was the embodiment of your house sigil as large and intimidating as a stag whereas you looked more like a fawn about to be slaughtered by its prey but he found it amusing none the less

- You would be in KL for many weeks but his obsession would be nothing more than a small flame, simply just admiring you from afar, but the small flame would turn into a roaring blaze when he saw you taking care of his son Aenys.

- You often found yourself alone and bored in the Redkeep since you hardly knew anyone there, so to keep you occupied your father arranged for you to take care of Aenys who was only a babe. You did miss taking care of your son who was now with his father’s family, so it was a sweet reminder

- One day after a stressful meeting Aegon was headed to his chambers for a much needed bath when he passed you in the gardens rocking and singing to a giggling Aenys, all the anger and stress vanished in an instant and calmness washed over him. It had been so long since he felt that way almost forgetting the feeling. That day he also felt a switch within him and a strong desire to keep seeing you like that

- He couldn’t help but use the same power he prided himself not abusing to abuse it to keep seeing you do that. He ordered that you become the sole caretaker and wet nurse to Aenys, making claims that the babe was so much calmer in your presence. You were so blinded by the fact that you missed your own son to see how odd his decision was

- Aegon was swift and discrete in chasing away any potential suitors who looked your way, also giving your father, his hand, more work than usual in attempt for him not to notice how much time the king spent with his daughter

- Convincing you to put Aeny’s crib in your room claiming it would be easier for you to take care of him, but it was more for him being able to walk into your chambers whenever he wishes and he could easily hide his reasoning just wanting to see his son

- When you start to feed Aenys, Aegon would often be nearby, watching with a mixture of peace and lust within him. The peaceful feeling coming from the knowledge that you are providing life-sustaining nourishment for his heir and the lustful feeling coming from what if you continued being the one to nurture and further his bloodline

- He would continue to stare when you place the babe down, your chest momentarily still exposed as you prioritize making Aenys comfortable first before fixing yourself. He would start to daydreaming what it would be like for you to be under him bare like that as his seed dripped from you after he’d taken you

- Things were going well for him soon enough suitors stopped talking with your father about potential proposals and you were always so obedient at his side without protest or rather you didn’t think you were allowed to.

- Panic starts to rise in Aegon when one day while having a drink, Orys mentions he wants to take you back to Storm’s End since he can’t find a match for you here, whereas in Storm’s End there was already possibility of three lords.

- That night Aegon summoned you to his chamber during the hour of the wolf you were about to grab his son thinking Aegon wanted to see him as that was always the case, but but the maid who called for you stopped you and said he only wanted to see you. You were extremely confused but obeyed the king’s command not having the slightest clue what was to happen.

NSFW below 18+ ONLY

You let out a strained gasp and whimper as Aegon’s body was pressed on top of you thrusting himself into you without warning. He squeezes his eyes shut at the way your walls immediately tighten around him making his brain turn into mush. He tries desperately to regain control of his spinning mind, burying his face into your neck and mumbling out calming words and hushes in a poor attempt to calm you as well as regain control of himself.

His body shakes as he tries his best not to thrust himself into you again for he knew if he did he’ll be finished before you two even get anywhere. You then hear him mumbling something over and over again in what you assumed was his mother tongue. Fortunately for you his temporary lack of movement allowed you to get used to his size but you still couldn’t help the soft whimper that slip past your lips.

His platinum blond hair already slick with sweat sticking to his forehead and pressing against your jaw.

He then slightly raised his head, his dark violet eyes scanning your features devouring you with just one look that made you feel butterflies in your stomach. It didn’t help when he moves a hand to caress your cheek, the feeling of it was callous due to the years of wielding blackfyre.

“Are you ready to please your king?” He says through a husky voice.

“Y-yes” you squeak out, surprising yourself with how high an octave your voice went.

With the conformation he doesn’t hesitate to begin rocking himself into immediately finding a rhythm. His movements fast yet calculated, as he was with most things in his life.

You nearly choked on your spit as your body involuntarily sucked in sharply the feeling of ecstasy being new to you. The few times you did lay with your now deceased husband was uncomfortable and quick as he valued his own pleasure over your own. Mewls and incoherent words start to slip past your lips. Embarrassed by this you slap your mouth shut with your hands but Aegon is quick to stop that.

Using one hands to keep himself propped up, he uses the other to restrain your arms above your head. He then rest his forhead on yours, his breathing coming out in pants as he continues his movements.

“You look so beautiful taking care of my sweet boy” he says between strained grunts “he needs a mother badly, he needs you to be the mother he lost” he says almost desperately his pace picking up

You hardly registered his words your back arches aching to meet his increased paced all you could get out was a ‘yes my king’ through a broken moan

Aegon can feel himself getting closer and buried his face back to your neck the sound of his grunts increasing.

“No, call me by my name.” He manages to say through them.

“Aegon” you say almost uncertain and soft, the word being foreign to you as you’ve gotten too used to calling him my king or your highness.

The volume dissatisfied him so he moves the hand that was restraining you bringing it down to your bud rubbing against it in a circular motion with his fingers to cause more friction along with his slamming hips.

“You will call me by my name when we are like this… You will scream it while I take you as mine” he says it like a command his tone booming with authority, a sharp reminder you were truly being taken by the king.

At the sudden added friction his name leave your lips faster than you can think it in a loud and desperate moan followed by curses no highborn lady should ever repeat. Yourself a few hours ago before you were summoned to the king’s chambers would be shocked that you had it in yourself to say that.

He lets out a hiss as he forces himself out of you, getting off the bed to stand at the edge of it before grabbing your hips and dragging you to the edge. You were still lying on your back as Aegon stood, preparing to position himself between your legs once more. First taking just a moment to admire you.

You didn’t have the slightest idea how badly Aegon wanted you below him as he pumped you full of himself, how during all those months how he’d dream about every part of you, how his need for you nearly went out of control when he saw you feeding his son motherhood looked so natural on you.

Aegon the cocky bastard knew you would be his eventually he was a conqueror after all, but his first plan was longer and would take time. It was foiled however when one drunk night with Orys, the man said he was going to take you back to Storm’s End as he couldn’t find a single match for you but already found three at your ancestral home.

The conqueror panicked and for the first time he had acted out irrationally. He wished your first time would be at your wedding you wrapped around the black and red cloaks of house Targaryen, a roaring sign of his success.

He is brought back to reality when he feels you arch your back causing your entrance to meet his tip, a moan escaping from the both of you. He grips your hips slamming back into you , his movements a lot more rougher and deeper with the new found stability.

“You should be honored Lady Baratheon, soon enough you will be carrying the seed of the conqueror and bear me many dragons” the headboard slams against the stonewall the loud slams almost challenges the screams of your pleasure and the begging of his name “you will be the queen” his thrust deeper than the last “you will be my queen.”

It doesn’t take long for you both to reach climax, his seed felt warm as it shot inside of you making you shudder. He desperately wanted to stay there but his body jerked and shook to his avail forcing him out.

As you come down from your high realization finally starts to settle in at what you just had done. A widowed woman of your position lying with a man who was not her husband. To fuel to the fire a married man, a married man who was the king. If word got out you would put great shame and mockery upon not only yourself but your house, the house your innocent father had worked so hard to claim.

Aegon senses the shift in your expression and when you try to get up he pushes you back to the soft bed.

“I’m sorry Aeg—, my king but-“ you try to speak out but Aegon silenced you.

“Shhh it’s ok” he mumbles out climbing back on top of you, his limp member rubbing against your sore entrance blood immediately rushing to it causing it to be hard again. “I’ll deal with Orys he’s a prideful man anyways all he’ll see is his blood on the throne so just relax for now” he says completely drunk on lust he’s not even sure of what he’s saying and his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated all he knew was that he needed to feel that over and over again.

[kisskissbanggang]

All Through the House

[5k Words/20 Min. Read - Husband!Chris x Housewife!Reader - NSFW/Smut - 1960s AU, Safe Space to Exercise Housewife Fantasies, Christmas Decor, New Cars, Homeowner Woes, Breaking Dry Spells, Arbitrary Beef with the Neighbors, Workplace Drama, Unfounded Financial Stress, Surprising Amounts of Holiday Spirit, Being Ridiculously in Love With Your Husband, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Light Bondage, Cowgirl, Strategically Withholding Sex, We Stan Service Top! Chan in This House]

[a/n: okay, now Christmas can be over]

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If you had to look at Katie Lee’s gorgeous house one more time, you were going to break something.

The wine glass you were scrubbing squeaked in concern within your grip. At first you thought it was your rubber cleaning gloves sliding disconcertingly over the crystal, and the subsequent realization tempered your burst of emotions. You knew Katie Lee wasn’t to blame, obviously, but the momentary contempt was at least safe inside your own head. Maybe you were just upset that the damn dishwasher wasn’t working. Then again, if the only thing wrong was that you had to wash the dishes by hand, maybe you wouldn’t be so on edge in the first place. The fact of the matter was that Katie’s husband, Minho, took incredibly good care of her. His job afforded her their gorgeous home, with its picture windows and sharp silhouette, and she obviously was able to conduct her home with auspicious jurisdiction. And it wasn’t like Chris didn’t take care of you, either. Your home was just as beautiful. Chris fought you on its modern design, its chic lines making it almost futuristic and fashionable, but you’d won out in the end. No, you had a beautiful home and were cared for decently enough.

But Katie Lee had a working dishwasher.

And worse yet, Katie Lee had just finished decorating for Christmas.

You were on the verge of snapping.

It was perfect, to put it lightly. There was still a whole month until Christmas was upon you, Thanksgiving barely passed, and her house already looked stunning. Strings of multi-colored lights wove around the trunks of the trees in the yard, and perfectly criss-crossed over Katie Lee’s immaculately trimmed hedges. Shining aluminum tinsel outlined those smudgeless portrait windows, reflecting the twinkling lights that were also strung along the sleek roof. Rows of little silver stars penned in the pristine concrete driveway. You’d never seen a house done up like hers. The last straw was the damn Christmas tree. Katie Lee hired a couple local boys to deliver her a picture perfect Douglas Fir from only-god-knows-where, and you steamed in your kitchen while you watched her hang pretty glass baubles and gilded tinsel all over it. The damn shrub made her house look like it was plucked straight out of a Redbook advertisement.

It was at that moment the garage creaked open, right when you considered calming down. Chris was home.

If anyone asked you, you would swear up and down that you loved your husband.

He was just… you know… going through something. Chris was afflicted with some unsaid condition, you could generously say. Your friends had once warned you that many young husbands hit some sort of speed bump when they reached a certain peak in their professional lives, and maybe this was that. Maybe he was worried about money. Maybe there was another woman.

No, you decided, it wasn’t that. Chris simply didn’t have the stones.

Regardless.

Whatever it was, it was driving you mad.

Chris didn’t even greet you when he grumbled through the doorway; he hung up his coat and stowed his briefcase by the entry table before simply walking back to your bedroom. He didn’t so much as look at you. The fragile stem of the wine glass you’d absently been scrubbing for the past five minutes finally snapped in your hand, much to your utter mortification. This wouldn’t have happened if Chris would let you call the damn repairman. You were convinced of it.

Only twenty minutes later did Chris finally see you in the kitchen, finishing the dishes. He’d slipped off his suit jacket in lieu of his favorite sweater. Setting his newspaper on the countertop beside you, he poured himself a glass of iced tea.

“I see Katie Lee’s been busy, judging by the lights,” he absently noted. His attention tipped in the direction of the sink, likely drawn by the bright color of your rubber gloves. “I wish I could feel that festive. Goodness, darling, you’re still washing by hand?”

You stared at him, agog. “Why are you surprised? You won’t let me call the repairman, dear.”

The tips of Chris’ ears blushed. “I won’t?... Well, I suppose that makes sense; we can hardly afford it.”

Your poor husband backed up a step with how abruptly you turned to face him. “Hardly afford it?” you repeated. “What on earth makes you think we can’t afford to fix the dishwasher?”

Chris babbled, silently gesturing as he tried to force out some reasonable defense. There was none, you both knew. You were in a far better place financially than you were when you first moved into the house. “Look, our nest egg–”

“Our nest egg,” you firmly echoed, “is fine, Chan.”

Your husband’s statuesque nose wrinkled. “You know better than to call me that. It’s Chris in this house, at my office, and everywhere else.”

The tension was heating up the whole kitchen. This normally wasn’t an issue, and it never had been, not since Chris first made the change. All you knew was you were sore as hell with your husband, and you wanted your words to cut him deep. “Minho didn’t change his name for the office,” you shrugged.

Chris’ eyes lit aflare and he audibly scoffed before snatching his newspaper off of the counter. “What the hell has gotten into you?! All this over the damn dishwasher?”

Something inside of you finally snapped, just like that wine glass earlier. Your short high heels clicked on the kitchen floor as you stepped right into Chris’ face and slipped your rubber gloves off. “The dishwasher and so much more, dear. Maybe you’d feel festive with some electric lights on the house but I’m sure we can’t even get any if my husband is too concerned with finances that he supposedly trusts me with to even pay for the goddamn dishwasher to get repaired.”

Your husband gazed deep into you, like he was trying to suss out just where you got off talking to him like this. Admittedly, it’d never even crossed your mind before…

But it felt good.

And you had Chris’ enraptured, uninterrupted attention.

This was the longest you two had been this close in months.

Chris’ brow furrowed, trying to decipher you before you decided to become more forward yourself. You took another step forward, making breathing room in between you impossible and causing him to back up against the kitchen counter. His eyes flicked to the side where you reached and your rubber gloves could be heard slapping down onto the counter. Next, his gaze widened when he found himself chest to chest with you. Brazenly, forwardly, and almost nervously, you reached one hand up to cup his cheek. The other, however, first rested on his chest… before caressing lower… and lower… Chris swallowed a breath when your hand closed over the firmness in his trousers.

“Darling…”

Half-excited, halfway warning, his voice was barely above a murmur.

“Don’t darling me,” you admonished. Your voice was polished sterling, smooth and sharp. The zipper on his trousers was relatively loud given the stark silence in the kitchen. “I think we need to re-establish the little pecking order that exists in our home for a reason.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Chris was trying his best to look aloof but was failing spectacularly, considering his hands gripping the kitchen counter on either side of him while you slowly began to stroke his length.

You nodded demurely in response, contrasting with your quickening pace. “I think you forget how this works. You make all the money. I manage the house. When I say that the dishwasher is broken, I expect that you’ll let me call a goddamn repairman to get it fixed. Just as well, when you lament that you’d like to feel a little more festive for the holidays, I start making a list of decorations to buy.”

Chris shuddered, suffering from the dry spell that preceded this. “I think–oh god–I understand what you’re getting at. If I keep you happy–”

“Then I’ll keep you happy, dear.” You grinned, almost condescendingly, and let your husband climax into your hand. Breathless and blindsided from the whole encounter, Chris practically collapsed against the counter while you nonchalantly stepped over to the sink, using cold water to get the mess off your fingers before using warm water and soap.

Your husband didn’t thank you, he didn’t kiss you; he simply zipped up, grabbed his newspaper, and stormed off into his study. This wasn’t offensive, of course–you understood that Chris simply hated being bested. An excited giggle almost escaped you when you heard him talking to the repairman on the telephone down the hallway. It seemed you’d succeeded.

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A small but noticeable change came about almost instantly. Something unlocked in your husband, something that’d been missing for some time. First there was the flowers he brought you the next day, but then there was also the way that Chris came home shortly after the repairman finished with the dishwasher on Friday. You’d been beside yourself, almost seething as the repairman began adding on cost after cost to the bill. Chris had come home, staunchly shooed him out of the house, and valiantly haggled with him in the driveway until you were writing a check for precisely the amount he’d originally been quoted. Sure enough, your husband was mindfully picking up after himself, helping you wash up after dinner, and even spending time with you.

However, you couldn’t deny that he still seemed down about something.

You observed him on Sunday, precariously perched on a ladder while he hung the new Christmas lights along the eaves of the roof while you sat out on the porch, paging through a magazine. Every so often, Chris glanced across the street to where Minho was washing the Studebaker. Eventually, Mr. Lee offered a wave, which Chris easily returned, but he put his head back down in his work instead of going over there and saying hello as was expected. Even when Chris rejoined you in the living room after a hot shower, he wasn’t reading his newspaper. He was just quietly looking across the street at the damn car.

This had been something you’d been aware of for some time now, obviously. Chris adored his Chevy, but it was currently surviving more than thriving. He’d worked on it and worked on it, but it was never the same since he had to replace a couple of the pistons. And that was to say nothing for the humble convertible you still ran errands in. It was still pretty, sure, but it was on its last legs. Chris was so quietly embarrassed by it that he politely refused to even let you park it outside. Myriad thoughts rushed through your head, trying to make sense of what could be going on. Although you had to admit, you were a bit turned off by the idea of reliving the mess of bringing the whole dishwasher issue to a head with Chris. You weren’t interested in talking things out and growing frustrated. If you wanted to cut right to a resolution, you had to be a little more creative.

It took a bit for your plan to fully coalesce in your mind, but once it did, you were quietly confident that this would help. Chris stood out in the living room after work on Tuesday, his daily paper tucked under his arm while he sipped on a cup of coffee. He was gazing at the damn Studebaker across the street once again, but you knew this would be likely and–if you were being honest–betting on it. You were quiet in your approach, softly walking up behind him. Chris tensed, the muscles in his back and shoulders firming up, but he seemed curious. You were gentle, perhaps a little sensual when your lips brushed his ear. Your lipstick left a faint smudge, almost getting a giggle out of you. Still, you remained focused.

“Sure is a pretty Christmas tree in the Lee house,” you lilted.

Chris’ broad shoulders rounded, a sigh slipping out of him. “Right. The tree. Yeah, it’s really grand.”

You coolly stepped around to his front, your chests pressing together. Chris raised an eyebrow at you, trying to predict what was coming. This felt familiar, but he couldn’t place why just yet.

“Feeling festive yet, dear?” you sweetly implored him. “The lights you hung up are swell.”

“Hmm?” Chris hummed, his mind absent. “The lights turned out terrific, yeah. I suppose I could feel a little more festive, though.”

“I could pick out a tree, maybe,” you suggested. “The gal at the flower shop told me she knew someone that’d give me a great price.”

“A Christmas tree?” parroted your husband. “I suppose you could, darling, but how on earth would you get it home? I’m no betting man, but I’d pay good money to see someone try to lash a whole pine tree to the soft-top.”

“Maybe it’s time for a new car, then,” you shrugged.

Chris nearly imploded, but you knew he would. He stopped himself the moment he realized your hands were on his belt. Now there were far more pressing issues to deal with, as you smoothly slid down to your knees on the living room rug. His zipper was down before he could even process what was happening.

“Darling!” he babbled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Right in front of the window–”

“The hedges are in the way, dear,” you placated. Your eyes met, your lipstick leaving a dot of crimson on the soft tip of his rigid member. Chris exhaled hard, his gaze darting to the cup of coffee quivering in his hand. His grip forcibly steadied while he swallowed a breath.

“What’s this nonsense about a car? The convertible–”

“Is a disaster,” you interrupted. Chris shuddered the first time you fully teased him with your lips. “Besides, I have my eyes on a certain… Chevy.”

“You’re not insinuating…” your husband gawked. “A new car for me? No way. We absolutely can not afford–”

“There you go again,” you rolled your eyes after you released him from your mouth. “The man who doesn’t touch the checkbook thinks he knows what we can afford.”

“Jesus Christ,” Chris groaned when you pulled his length back between your lips, massaging it with your tongue. “First the dishwasher, now a goddamn car–”

“Such a colorful vocabulary,” you smirked. “You kiss your wife with that mouth?”

“You suck cock with yours,” he grumbled under his breath. “Besides. Excuse me for being concerned that something might go wrong someday–”

“Wrong? With what, your job? That you’ve worked for five years already?”

“Darling, wait, why’d you stop–”

It was true. You’d stopped fully, simply enjoying Chris’ squirming. “You want me to start again? You want me to keep you happy?”

Chris bit at his lip as he gazed down at you. His erection was blushing underneath the smudges of your lipstick. There was truly conflict occurring inside him, enough that you could see it. You’d confirmed the fallacy: as long as he let you control the finances, he could blissfully insist that the two of you were still on the doorstep of the poorhouse.

“... Fine,” your husband relented. He nearly cursed out loud when you began working him over again. “But I need a budget.”

“No you don’t,” you casually rebuked. “Because you’re too stubborn to want anything actually extravagant.”

The scowl on Chris’ face was audible. “Fine,” he repeated. “We’ll get the fucking car. We’ll get the fucking tree. Now come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Bed?” you grinned mischievously. “I thought we’d take it all the way to the end right here.”

“But we didn’t get to last time!” he whined. “And besides, you never–”

“Never? Well, maybe now I do.”

Chris’ eyes widened for a moment before squeezing shut while you worked him over with a fervor. He teetered on his heels, trying to remain steady as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. You cheekily took the cup of coffee out of his hand and set it on the side table before he could drop it. Above you, you could hear your husband’s breathing growing more ragged, his gentle grip on your shoulder becoming more desperate. Finally yet suddenly, almost surprising both of you, Chris’ hips seized once he reached his climax. He collapsed into his easy chair shortly after, boneless and breathless while you chipperly blotted the edges of your lips clean and refreshed his coffee.

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Across the street, Katie Lee waved at you as she flipped through a magazine on her porch. Proudly, you waved back before setting the star on top of your beautiful Noble Fir. Chris’ new Buick pulled into the driveway shortly after Minho’s Stubebaker also parked across the street. Your husband came in, set his suitcase by the door, and kissed you on the cheek. He offered a nice, passing compliment on the Christmas tree, and set down a box of pastries for you from your favorite bakery.

But then he blithely skulked down the hall to his study. No questions about your day. No report on the minutiae going on at the office. No polite requests for dinner.

This was a concerning new pattern. Although Chris had been becoming more affectionate and doting, and even seemed to perk up more generally, he was still a sullen mess following his return from the office each day. The silver lining seemed to be, however, that you might not have figured out that specific element if you hadn’t made so much progress otherwise. You flipped through possible causes for Chris’ malaise like a Rolodex, before you finally came to the worst–but most prudent–solution. With a parting glance at Chris’ study door, you scooped up the box of pastries and headed out the front door to cross the street.

Katie Lee beamed at the sight of you trotting over to her porch with your offering of baked goods, and she promptly stood up after she set down her magazine.

“Sweetheart,” she gushed. “It’s been forever. Do come in, I have a fresh pitcher of iced tea.”

You tried not to ogle the decorations inside Katie Lee’s house, but this was a difficult task. For all the impressive opulence of the Christmas decorations outside, the interior was somehow even more so. Your neighbor waltzed into her gorgeous kitchen and produced a glass of iced tea for you with an impressive swiftness.

“Minho is tending to the gardenias in the backyard,” she explained whilst inspecting the box of pastries you brought. She took a bite of a madeline and swooned. “He’s seemed so stressed since the department learned about the promotion. I suppose Chris is feeling it as well?”

Promotion?! The overwhelming urge to interrogate Katie Lee right then and there was going to kill you. Instead, you did your best to swallow down your stunned expression.

“Promotion?” you demurely wondered. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Katie Lee blushed while trying to remain nonchalant. “I figured you, if anyone, would know! Apparently, the boys are all bickering and sprucing up their portfolios to become assistant director for the whole department. I’m shocked, seeing as Minho tells me that Chris is the one everyone’s terrified of.”

You felt as though you could explode, truth be told. There was some fancy promotion at work, one that would make Chris not worry about money for the rest of his life, and instead he was sulking at home?!

Your visit with Katie Lee was much shorter than expected, but only because your plotting resumed with a quiet ferocity.

It wasn’t until Friday afternoon that you felt that the pieces were in place to finally spring on your husband. The front door opened and closed, announcing his arrival home from the office, but you knew that next would come the momentary confusion that you were nowhere to be seen. Doors could be heard opening and closing, signaling that Chris was checking the backyard, your room, the bathrooms, the garage… until he finally opened his study.

You were tiptoeing on a stepladder, serenely hanging some colorful Christmas lights over his desk. The glittering string of electric decorations pooled haphazardly around your high heels.

Chris looked you up and down, trying to figure out what the hell you were up to. “... Darling?”

You smiled warmly. “I figured you could use some more holiday spirit.”

“Oh,” he blushed. “Thank you; I didn’t realize I seem so glum.”

“Incredibly glum,” you nodded in agreement. Chris came nearer and held your leg steady while he unwound the string of lights from your ankles. You couldn’t help but let a small smile pull at the corner of your mouth; Chris was always so protective of you. His hand was warm on your calf. Once you were free, you stepped down onto the hardwood. “Chris,” you pouted. “Let’s cheer you up. I bet we could throw a magnificent Christmas party.”

“A Christmas party?” he repeated. You cutely took the string of Christmas lights out of his hands and draped them around his shoulders.

“Yes,” you nodded, playfully wrapping him up with another round of lights. “We could invite the neighbors, all our friends, the boys at the office… your boss.”

“Wait,” Chris halted, staunchly pausing you. He was effectively trussed up in blinking Christmas lights. “My boss? Why my boss?”

“Be-cause,” you answered, sing-song. When you stepped forward, he took a step back. “It might help you get that promotion.”

The way you crooned the word brought out a sparkle in Chris’ eye, not helped by the twinkling of the lights strung around him. He was terrified, affronted, and intrigued, all at once. “Darling… Who told you about that?”

He took a step back, so you took another step closer. Chris stumbled back against his desk. “So you were keeping it from me?” you scoffed. His ears burned red.

“No, I–”

“Chris,” you softly scolded. He shut up right away. “All this about the dishwasher and the car… Despairing that something could go wrong some day? You’re melancholic whenever you come in through that front door. What on earth is going on at that office that’s got you so stressed?”

Chris refused to meet your eye. “Look, that’s enough. I'm the man in this house–”

With a twitch of your wrist, you pulled taut the lights strung around his chest. Your husband gasped; you’d earned his full attention. He understood he was grasping at any control he had left. Never in your whole relationship had he pulled any of that macho nonsense on you, so it clearly never held any jurisdiction over his values. You had him on the ropes and he didn’t want to admit it.

“The man in this house?” you sardonically repeated. “Well, I'm the woman of this house. Last I checked, that might even hold some weight.”

Chris’ Adam’s Apple bobbed when you pulled at his belt. You paused then, more than enough time for him to signal if he was distressed about your advances, and he seemed to anticipate more when you guided him to lay back on the sturdy desk.

“I just don’t think I have what they’re looking for, darling,” he said. “I’m sure you understand.”

“Like hell I do,” you stubbornly shook your head. “You're reliable, you’re a self-starter, and you’re a natural leader. What wouldn’t you have?”

“Well, you see–I mean, what I would–I mean, what I wouldn’t have–” Chris was a mess already. You’d apparently snubbed him twice by now, considering what he said during the last encounter. He gawked at you when you climbed onto the desk yourself. When you lifted the hem of your dress, your petticoat underneath raised just enough for him to confirm that you weren’t wearing any panties, something heretofore entirely out of character for you. “I just don’t think I have what they’re looking for…”

“You said that already, dear,” you sighed, clucking your tongue at him in mock admonishment. “And like I already said, I think you’re more than capable.”

“Well I’m glad you think so,” your husband rasped, “but you’re not the one in that office every business day. It’s not like inviting my boss will help. The pressure is–”

“I’m sure that pressure is big,” you grinned, and caressed his abdomen before you unclasped his belt. Chris stared as you busied yourself with slowly exposing his handsome erection.

A sharp gasp coincided with his head helplessly thunking back on the desk. “Oh god, finally… Wait, wait, what’re you waiting for?”

Another astute observation. Chris weakly lifted his head, only to see you brazenly, nearly sitting astride his hips, his painfully hard member just barely brushing against your entrance. “So we agree,” you teased. “We’re throwing a Christmas party.”

Chris initially responded with a subtle thrust of his hips, trying to get as much of you as he could. “Yes, you witch, whatever you want!”

“And you’ll invite your boss?” you purred, dipping him inside you for a single second. Chris winced with the pleasure, but also the sudden loss of it.

“Yes!” he croaked. “I’ll invite my boss!”

“Glad to hear it,” you giggled. “You can do it after you tell him you’re interested in the promotion.”

“I told you,” Chris wheezed, “I’m not going to bother, because I’m not going to get it–oh fuck!”

Your husband’s stiff curse was appropriate, given that you took him fully inside you, finally and suddenly, at that exact moment. However, you just as quickly lifted off of his lap. Chris fought at his impromptu restraints, the Christmas lights preventing him from grabbing onto you whatsoever. “I like to think, dear,” you pretended to frown, “that I have some standards.”

“You do!” he easily agreed.

“Then I’m puzzled as to why you think I suddenly allow myself to fuck men who are willing to settle.”

“Don’t play games with me,” he growled. “You know fully well that–hey!” Chris jolted when you started to torturously stroke him.

“You want me to stop?” you teased.

Your husband’s eyes bore into you, wild with arousal. “I want you to finally fuck me.”

Seeing you shrug nearly sent him into a frenzy. “Simple,” you said. “Say you’ll go for the promotion. Admit you’re worth it and can get it.”

The two of you stubbornly stared each other down. Somewhere deep inside you, buried under all that frustration and adrenaline, you were a little sentimental. This was a part of your dynamic you sorely missed.

“You brat!” Chris spat, his head falling back onto the desk, “you always get what you want. Fine.”

“Say it,” you taunted. Between your legs, your husband’s length pulsed in your grip.

“I’ll go for the goddamn promotion,” he panted. A proud smile spread across your lips.

“The boys are going to be so sore with me,” Chris added under his breath.

“And why’s that?” you implored.

“Because I’m gonna be the one that gets the goddamn offer letter. I’ve put in the time and I’ve had it coming.”

“Good. Let ‘em be sore. They’ll get over it.”

Chris very clearly had another retort in the chamber, but he didn’t have a chance to say it, not when you began to ride him. The string of Christmas lights were clenched in your hand like a set of reins. Instead of anything coherent, Chris was a babbling mess of groaned curses and swears. His brow was furrowed cutely, concentrating on the pleasure coursing through him. The tempo was so frantic, you rolling your hips against his and him thrusting up into you, that the desk rocked and creaked under you both. At the rate you were going, you were liable to climax at any second, your dry spell quickly coming to an abrupt end.

“Oh god,” your husband keened, his breath ragged. His hands uselessly scrambled and settled to simply clutch at the desk under him. “Darling,” he weakly pleaded, “you got me too worked up, I don’t know how long I can hold out!”

You did your best to mask the fact that you were right there with him. “That doesn’t sound very fair, now does it?” you giggled. “I’ve been so patient and you haven’t even gotten me there. You don’t think I’m frigid, do you?”

“No, not at all!” he blustered. “Come on, baby, please, get there with me–”

You grinned, benevolent. “You want me to get there with you?”

“Yes!” he ranted. “Yes, please, darling, baby, what happened to that pecking order?! To keeping each other happy–”

Good god, this really was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

“Fine,” you simpered. “Push me right over the edge, Chris.”

With a tight breath sucked between his teeth, your husband hissed out another string of swears as his hips canted right up into your spot, sending you both over the precipice. Your peak zipped up into you straight from your hips. It flooded your vision with spots of sheer bliss, getting you heady and reeling. Chris wasn’t better off, that vein in his neck pulsing from the way he clenched his jaw. His bucking hips toppled you over, punching a groan out of him when you collapsed into his firm chest.

Slowly, warmly, the two of you melted into each other, coalescing in a heap on his desk in the study. You breathed him in, the faint smell of perspiration outlining his cologne.

“We’ll need a caterer for the Christmas party,” Chris murmured against you. He seemed content to still be strung up in the length of Christmas lights, at least as long as you wanted him to be.

“A caterer?” you scoffed in disbelief. “Luxurious. You sure you don't mean a potluck with the gals?”

“What? No,” your husband argued. “The Lees would hire a caterer. We’re hiring a caterer.”

You both caught your breath as you helped Chris to sit upright and finally unwrap him from his unorthodox binds. “Chris Bang,” you laughed, “insisting on a caterer. What’s gotten into you?”

“I suppose it’s a Christmas miracle, Mrs. Bang,” he said with a humble shrug. However, he waited a beat and winked at you. “Got some sense knocked into me,” he explained. “I’ve got to keep you happy, after all.”

[hungrytummyprompts]

bratty?

"Are you kidding me?" The music abruptly stopped as Ryan held up his hands before storming over to the guitarist and ripping the sheet music away from him. "Did you even fucking try to read this? At all?" He pressed his fingers to his temples with a great sigh. "I don't know why Cass even insists on hiring musicians. She knows I can play all the instruments myself."

The man at the guitar put the instrument down and stood roughly. "Then why don't you?"

"Because Cass insists on hiring you. Only for you to butcher my fucking music. I want it played as written for the recording, mate. It's my vision, my song. No improv, no creative flair. This is a Reks Lee song, one hundred percent by Reks Lee. Not by Reks Lee and some random nobody his manager picked up off the street."

He turned away before the poor sod could answer, continuing to try and massage away the headache threatening to crack his skull. It did nothing to help.

"I'd always heard Reks Lee was great to work with." A snide voice piped in from behind him. One of the other special hired helpers, he supposed. "Didn't realise he was such a prick."

So great. Not only am I stressed beyond belief, tired as fuck and packed in a schedule tighter than a nun's holes, but my reputation in the industry is about to get completely fucked too. Whoop de doo.

Ryan handed back the crumpled sheet music with a sigh. "Look, just...just play the music, okay? We need this done by five, we only have the studio until five, I want it done early if possible because I've got to go straight on to a bloody performance in bloody Milton Keynes of all places. So...please."

He stalked back to his place as his stomach twisted in that frustratingly familiar ache that came with not having eaten a thing today and barely eating yesterday. Add starving to that stupid list. Ever since he'd started gaining real notoriety, Cass had really been on his arse, keeping him busy at all hours to make the most out of having at least one genuinely famous client. That often meant wall to wall work without a single break to eat and a very grumpy singer. He paused to adjust his microphone and that was when the hell cramps in his belly released in a low, longing growl. Loud enough for the others to hear, judging by the snort of laughter from the amateur guitarist.

"So are you always this much of a cunt or just when you're hungry?"

Perhaps it was a subconscious effort to save face or protect what little reputation he had left, but he answered with a terse "just when I'm hungry" through gritted teeth. His stomach punctuated that with another insistent, burbling groan and he found himself pressing a hand to his belly, trying to ease the discomfort just a little. He gave his tummy a rub, trying to work out the knots and cramps, but every time one released another took its place.

"When did you last eat, man?"

"None of your fucking business."

"More than a day ago then. Got it."

Ryan rolled his eyes so hard they could have popped right out of his head. "Well, the sooner we get this done, the sooner I can eat." His stomach moaned miserably again.

"Anyway, you'd think you'd be less pissy considering I only got the sheet music yesterday. Like, come on, man, give me some time to learn it before you jump down my ass."

"...What? No, excuse me, what?" Frustrated, he dragged his hands through his hair. "Are you telling me Cass only...yesterday?" He took a deep breath, then kicked the microphone stand, stomped to the nearest chair and hid his face in his arms. After a moment, he heard the snide helper, he did not know her name, come up beside him.

"How about I order some pizza or something?"

"I don't have time for pizza." The thought was tempting, though. He was so fucking hungry, just the thought of even a cheap pizza from the nearby dive set his mouth watering and his stomach grumbling. "I have to get this done. Cass-"

"Get a new agent." The guitarist told him sharply, sitting down next to him. "Or manager, whatever she is. And learn to tell her no, man, for fuck's sake."

Learn to say no. That had always been a problem for Ryan. People pleaser, he'd called himself, but really it was just code for 'easy to abuse'. It was second nature by now to keep his head down and his mouth shut, do as he was told and deal with the consequences as they came.

"'Sides, your gut sounding off like that'll get in all the recordings anyway." Ryan huffed while the others laughed. One of his arms came down away from his face and clamped around his belly instead as it let out another hollow groan. "Saige, order a few pizzas. We'll fill our bellies and have another crack at the recording when everyone's in a better place physically and mentally. Trust me, man, there will be way fewer interruptions then. We might actually get a smooth run without you losing your shit again."

Ryan sighed, rubbing his poor, aching belly as he thought it over. "Fine...pizza sounds good. I'll pay."

"No, I'm buying it." Saige insisted, shaking a finger at him.

"... I'll at least chip in. Come on, this is embarrassing enough."

"You won't stop until I cave, will you?"

"I'm one stubborn bastard."

Saige laughed as she put in the order. "Fine. Pay me back later. For now, let's get you fed."

[beelearnsfinnish]

weekly recap: week 01 [30.12.24-05.01.25]

i decided to start doing weekly recaps as a way to keep myself accountable not only with language learning but with all my studying in general. So, peep my new rug and Pikku Myy cup, as well as the moomin calendar i got for christmas! let's see:

studying

Finnish

As I said in my last Finnish update, I hadn't been doing much this past weeks. I've restarted again, but I'm aware this two months are not gonna be the best, since I need to focus in all my tests happening in February. Still, I wanna try and find time for it everyday, even if its just couple minutes.

I'll add the tracker of what I did this week (only started counting the 1st tho) but yeah managed to get a session of active studying and one of writing besides my immersion. I'll continue my lessons next week so looking forward to that.

My degree

To be honest I don't normally have to spend much time with this. I only have three subjects this year, and since I'm studying online and have no classes I don't need to do much during the year. The only stressful times are when I have to turn in papers and exams. This being said, I do need to turn in papers next two weeks, and I have my midterms at the start of February, so I am indeed stressed :D

I started revising the content for one of the subject's paper, which is already something. I usually get decently good grades without much stress since its the second degree im doing in the topic and almost everything sounds familiar already, but last two papers with this teacher didn't go that well (imo bc of her way aka inexisting way of explaining the papers) so im kinda pissed off :D

I didn't need good grades in this degree since its kinda useless having already my previous one, but since there's the possibility of going in erasmus again i want good grades to hopefully get into the program again. Soo, this next weeks I gotta grind and start doing the papers as well as start working on the units.

Hygieniapassi test

New addition! Since my plan is to move to Finland hopefully this year (still don't know how or when but we're getting there) and getting a job of my area (media production) is impossible without experience anywhere, I'd need to get a regular no studies entry level job and I thought I could make things easier for myself and get it before the move. I'm going there late February, so thats my deadline!

Actually signed up today for the exam. I have been working on the material in the app for the past two weeks ish, I only have two courses left to copy into my notebook (I physically can't retain any info if I don't write it myself) so I'm hoping to finish them before my papers are due! I still have to work on a schedule so I have time for everything, but pretty happy so far.

life updates

work

Christmas rush is coming to an end, but we have an inventory coming soon, which means extra hours and extra stress. Not the most ideal thing with all the studying I have to do, but we'll survive i guess :'D

hobbies & social life

To be honest I don't have much time for hobbies these days, but that's something I wanna change. Went to see Nosferatu with a friend at the start of the week (loved it) and we have another 3 movies lined up for the next weeks (can you tell i love going to the cinema). Also planning couple meet ups with different friend groups, this doesn't happen often since couple of them we don't see eachother in months, but seems like everything's happening at the same time. Stressful, but happy to get to see them!! Also meeting with my bookclub, so gotta finish the book of the month at some point.

Also something I'm super excited about, booked my flights to Finland!! Already mentioned I was going in February but actually having the flights its a life changer when it comes to waiting. Can't wait to be back 😊

media update

📖: The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue - V. E. Schwab

🎬: Nosferatu - 4 ⭐️

🎧: Nonbeliever - Lucy Dacus

[alkylic]

been pretty stressed out lately (to be honest, what part of 2024 hasn't been stressful so far?) and i haven't gotten to post or found the motivation to draw much. so sorry about that.

[deoidesign]

when your main characters start dating after years of writing so they finally get to be like this

[ribbononline]

Pokemon Masters made a really cute halloween Iono outfit so obviously I put Courtney in it

[moeblob]

Honestly? Good anime imo! I really enjoyed Aileen. I enjoyed Claude. I enjoyed Isaac and Keith and Rachel and Almond and Ribbon. I enjoyed Belzebuth and the flock of ducks (Walt/Kyle/Auguste) and Jasper.

[arsenicflame]

when will someone pick izzy up bridal style and spin him around? hm?

[pup-pee]

hi this is a post saying i will not b online((or try)) until i get my g.e.d.

i love u all if i uh, yk never return

hugs hugs many sweet dreams & good mornings!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

when i was in highschool one o my biggest coping mechanisms was drawing all the kids i hated getting killed and eaten and killed. and well. time is a slowly ascending spiral. you will find patterns.(i work as a blackjack dealer. gamblers are FASCINATING

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Me, while manically cleaning my room at 3:27am: I should make several large, life-changing, irreversible decisions.

[dandyshucks]

guzm.a and me shaking hands about being poor and eligible for welfare 🤝🤝🤝🤝