#husbands lead wives follow

[banana-with-a-bow-tie]

It didn’t matter that Eve sinned first. It didn’t matter that she was the main player of the two in the temptation scene in Eden. Adam was held primarily responsible. Adam was the head of the home and he abdicated his responsibility to protect his wife from the attack of the enemy, to provide a corrective word for her when she was getting God’s Word wrong and to direct her back to the truth and away from sin. He dumped out and remained passive. She led him, the serpent led her and both rebelled against God. Nevertheless, God calls Adam to account first.

—Owen Strachan & Gavin Peacock, The Grand Design, pgs. 47

#banana reads #the feminist crowd doesn’t seem to understand what they are asking for by demanding they be put in charge #to quote bug’s life that means everything is your fault #it’s a burden to know the fate of everyone you care about is largely on your shoulders #that’s why Jesus carries it for us and we should be glad to give Him that responsibility #that’s the picture that is being depicted in marriage #just as Jesus took the burden of leading His bride in righteousness and His bride gratefully accepts His leadership #husbands and wives should follow His example

[evilvillain123456789]

i can't stop fucking old people. it's seriously a problem. their hearts can't fucking take it. they know i'll kill them. but they never say no. i travel city to city with each conquest. i log onto tinder and meet a girl. three chances a year... one for easter dinner, one for thanksgiving, one christmas. she takes me to her house to meet the family. the grandmother and i lock eyes from across the table. grandfather has passed. shes here alone.. sad.. we make eye contact for a while until she excuses herself, and i follow her. sometimes the deed is done right there in the bedroom, sometimes i'm given the number to her jitterbug, to return to her later. she makes me go in raw no matter what i suggest. i break up with the girl shortly after i've achieve sexual contact with one or both grandparents. i've no family of my own. that's true, that's always the excuse. i got a reputation that follows me. that's why i'm always moving. the grandmother often catches a VD from our little quickie. her weakened immune system. she passes away a few weeks later. some time before her time. or maybe just in time. god forbid, she invites me over. i sit in her little rocking chair as she speaks to me. that was her husbands chair.. she eyes me. my presence awakens this within her. i make her feel young again. she leads me to her bedroom. i have no reason to restrain myself, nobody will find us. she comes, then she goes. i clean her up as she grunts from the remnants of her heart attack, and leave her tucked into bed. she lays there peaceful, like shes asleep. that's when i lock the doors on my way out, and head to the next city. the next city, where i'll lay low until the next holiday season. start chatting up some chicks while i'm at it.. god, and the grandfathers. unlike with the grandmothers, they dont need to have lost their love to want me. they always cheat. they always want to use me as a tool to cheat. they look at me in ways their wives havent seen in years, and their wives see this. but their wives remain subservient. they always let him do this. they pray for him, but none of them pray for me. they hate me. they hate me so much. they know what i'm doing but refuse to make it stop. i lead their husbands away and kill them. they know it serves him right. i leave them heartbroken. but they'll never say a word. they'll never say a word about how an ugly little gay boy stole their man and now he's paid the ultimate price. and so have they. they seethe until their death. sometimes i swoop in on them too. silence them. they want me to silence them. but usually its too risky. after all, there are simply some secrets, that one must take to ones grave no matter what. i have nothing to gain from doing this. what i do is completely legal. all are lucid. but i feel as if i'm moving through a dream. i feel the earth around me shift as though i were asleep. i can't settle down. i can't fucking stop it. i want to stop. i want to find love. i feel so guilty. how many women fell in love with me, only to lose me. lose one or both grandparents and i'm nowhere near to comfort her. by the time it comes to mourn, i'm already long gone..

But yes, i suppose you can apply this to your fucking little tomgreg or harry styles or whatever. Yeah dude. You fucked that old man.

[thealogie]

picture this. you're michael sheen, beloved queer-friendly welsh actor and recent twilight saga vampire. you want your favorite book to become a tv show, and you want to be the lead. so what do you do? you befriend the author. he wines and dines you, you become a confidant in the scriptwriting phase. and in the process of the GO script you decide you don't want to be crowley, actually, you want to be aziraphale. you put in the work for months to influence the author to the same conclusion. so when neil gaiman comes to you one day saying, "i know you joined on to be crowley... but how would you feel about playing aziraphale?" you say, what a novel idea! i was feeling the same way, i just didn't want to say anything! let's do it.

you're michael sheen, the lead in the adaptation of your favorite book. you meet david tennant as your leading man, a rising star (and vocal fan of yours) you've had a few vague interactions with in the past. on set you immediately find the closest friend you have ever and will ever find in your life, and you know this. the romance you have in your (yes, your) show is ambiguous, but you're michael sheen. you think that romance needs to be explicit. so what do you do? you become a nightmare on set. you get really hands-on; you make costume choices, you make story decisions, you tell your author friend at the very end of filming: aziraphale is in love with crowley and realizes it in 1941. now go do it again.

so the author goes and does it again. you get a season 2. you get 1941 part 2. you're michael sheen, and you are the lead of the adaptation of your favorite book, and the romance you littered into the character you built from the ground up has become unambiguous. everything goes according to plan. but, you see, you have a problem: the author you have baby trapped is acting a FIEND on twitter and tumblr. he's saying everything he can to imply aziraphale and crowley aren't sexually attracted to each other. he's getting a bit too bold with his character assumptions, is all i'm saying. so here's what you're going to do: you play it up with your pal david tennant. you made a show with him during lockdown. you're going to depict your lives as even more intertwined and homoerotically codependent as previously possible. you grow even closer. your wives become best friends, too, because how could they not? this has been the plan since the beginning, too. your lockdown show ends. it wasn't enough.

so you, michael sheen, of course you put in the work. if david tennant's there, you're damn sure you're there physically, spiritually, biblically, in whatever capacity you can be. it's not hard. david tennant is a big fan of yours, after all, so he MAKES SURE you're always in the conversation. you have him wrapped around your little finger, this lovely little boy, and so you know what you do next? you become neighbors. you make your directorial debut casting your best friend's wife watching her husband and male neighbor initiate sex with each other. you play into the swinging rumors (that you, michael sheen, had started). you create a narrative that you and david tennant are two homoerotic besties, and is there more going on in the background there? any deeper conspiracy? who really knows, but what you do know is that the world is talking about it.

and you, michael sheen, your entire acting career has led to this moment, your gay quips, your oscar wilde sex scene (and the interviews following), all of your queer roles, EVERYTHING has brought us to this conclusion. you have created the lab perfect conditions where season 3 must have an explicit gay sex scene. i'm sorry neil, my hands are tied! the people are clamoring for me and david tennant to have sex-- i mean aziraphale and crowley to have sex, the public decided this all on their own! i really don't think you have much choice. but of course, i would never deign to tell an author how to practice his veritable craft. i concede to whatever version of series 3 you create, and i will happy to bring this beloved character to his deserved ending.

and why do you say this? because you're michael sheen. you're just an actor who incidentally stumbled his way into leading the queer romance adaptation of your favorite book that wasn't a romance, and you just read the script the way that it was given to you. and if series 3 means an explicit sex scene between you and your best friend david tennant, then what a lovely coincidence that you had absolutely no part in making happen. because what power do you really have?

This is my favorite book I’ve read so far this year. A rare occasion where the author pulls off use of the second person pov. I really felt like I was a beloved welsh actor crossed with Machiavelli when I read this

#michael sheen

[meiieiri]

water’s edge | concept dump

₊˚.༄ pairing: crown prince!gojo satoru x f!reader | setting: modern royal au

₊˚.༄ summary: in a world where titles define their fates, gojo satoru, the crown prince of japan, and his wife-to-be, face a tempestuous court of deception and schadenfreude. as they waltz on the edge of ruin, can their love endure the treacherous waters that threaten to pull them apart, or will the whims of the enigmatic chrysanthemum throne prove strong enough to drown them both?

₊˚.༄ warnings: mean!gojo (but that’s not even the worst of it oh my god what monstrosity have i created), arranged marriage, illness, allusions to criminal activity that may include reckless homicide, physical battery and attempted murder. mentions of depression, cheating, physical and emotional abuse, trauma, adultery. fictional depiction of the japanese imperial family, etc.

LINK TO FULL FIC MASTERLIST HERE!

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who is the only son of the emperor and empress of Japan, the beloved and long-awaited child of his parents. As a child, he had been showered with endless praise and veneration as the one, true, legitimate heir to the chrysanthemum throne. The entire imperial household had expected the prince to inherit an unwavering sense of duty to the crown and to his people much like his fore-bearers, only to be severely disappointed when the prince turns out to be a pathological card shark with ambiguous morals, and a serial womanizer who has slept with countless women from aristocratic backgrounds during the height of his bachelor years.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who finally incurs his father’s wrath after a nasty bar brawl that leads to him getting unceremoniously arrested and is stripped of his title and properties as crown prince, favoring his half-brother, Prince Suguru Geto, who had been born of the emperor’s affair with one of the empress’s ladies-in-waiting. This incident has prompted his mother, the empress, to help in ratifying his public image by arranging Satoru to marry a commoner with an impeccable standing in Japanese society in a bid to re-portray Satoru as a responsible, married man. The empress, in turn, offers to grant you, Satoru’s future wife-to-be, anything your heart could ever desire.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who engages in a pantomime act of being a loving husband to you during a state banquet by showering you with endless praise in his speech addressed to all the world leaders in the Akasaka Palace’s reception hall. When he was asked to introduce you, his new wife, the honeyed words came so easily to him. “You see, the princess (Y/N) is no ordinary woman,” he chuckles into the microphone causing the guests to giggle at the sight of what looks to be a bashful newlywed.

“Other than being the first breath of fresh air our family has ever had the pleasure of knowing in so long, and the most active member in our family when it comes to supporting the many royal charities and foundations, she is…” he trails off. You dared to follow the wandering gaze of your husband, who seems to be searching for another pair of eyes in the room. His eyes eventually stop their search, softening at the sight of the one he loved. For a second, you think he is looking at you, and your heart naively skips a beat in your chest as if all these months of inattention and animosity were finally coming to an end.

“…My better half, the keeper of my own heart.”

Many of the ambassador’s wives who sat beside you nudged you in congratulations for being so blessed with such a devoted husband. You crane your head back to smile warmly at them for the kind words only to have ice coat your veins instantly when you see his Chief-of-Staff, Himiko Zenin, sitting about two seats behind you, staring directly at your husband with a wistful look in her eyes, exchanging words of love in a silent oath — one that is far more certain than the rising and the setting of the sun as each day passes with your husband hating you a tad bit more than yesterday, and one that is far more truthful than the wedding vows you shared.

Of course, writing this godforsaken death march-like speech was easy for Satoru, simply because these words of devotion and love were never intended for you anyway; this poetic spiel was written with another woman ensnaring his mind.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who sneaks out of bed during your wedding night, sparing one last cold glance at your sleeping form before he saunters out the imperial villa to meet his girlfriend in a nearby mountain resort, about half a mile away from the villa. His personal chauffeur had been sworn to secrecy, else, he would incur the wrath of the crown prince.

“I thought you couldn’t get away,” Himiko moans wantonly into his mouth as he roughly takes her from behind, the lewd wet sounds of their lovemaking echoing through the room. He had taken the liberty of secretly bringing Himiko along to your honeymoon, by booking the most expensive suite in the resort for her under another name.

“The bitch is too fucked out to even notice I’m gone— mmph—“ he throws his head back, releasing a pleasured groan when Himiko meets his sharp thrusts, grinding teasingly on his cock as she does so. He grips her hips tightly, readjusting his hips to pound into her from another angle, the muscles on his abs tightening as he gets lost in the feeling of her tight, luscious walls. “Sh-shit, ‘m-m gonna cum—“

“—Ah! S-Satoru,” she was close too, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as the fat tip of his member roughly prods at her cervix.

He half-expected Himiko to be angry with him for engaging in intimate acts with you, but she simply acts like she didn’t hear him. And even if she was upset, why should he, of all people, apologize? She should have known that becoming his mistress entailed having to endure these kinds of things as these were simply Satoru’s marital duties, and by extension, his duty to the crown.

His high washes over him like a tidal wave crashing into the rock shore, grunting as he involuntarily thrusts as he releases inside her, Himiko collapsing onto the pillows as he does. “O-oh, haaa- agh,” his deep tenor moans into her long black hair as his seed paints her walls, holding her close to his form, their heartbeats racing a million miles an hour.

He pulls out his flaccid cock, plopping down next to her, pulling her small frame for her head to rest on his chest. “I just need to have father reinstate me as heir apparent and return all my estates, then,” he kisses her once, his lips moving in sync with her soft ones.

“…We’ll get rid of her.”

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who blatantly and publicly humiliates you by bringing along Himiko Zenin to a state visit to the imperial family’s counterpart in Monaco rather than you, his rightful wife. And when asked of your whereabouts, Satoru simply replies with a casual shrug, his hand squeezing Himiko’s smaller ones as she usurps the banquet thrown in your honor by the Monacan royal family while you watch the horrific scene unfold on your television screen, your heart shattering into a million pieces as Himiko and Satoru uncaringly waltz with one another in front of the watchful eyes of the entire world throughout the evening.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who crucifies you for your acts of sincere charity, believing you to be actively humiliating Himiko despite having no intentions whatsoever resembling his baseless accusation. “Did you honestly think your little publicity antics would go unpunished? I bet you were just itching for the attention, weren’t you?” he snarls at you the second you come back from a visit to one of the hospitals you had commissioned for the treatment of children with rare diseases, a compassionate act which had been heavily televised by national broadcasting stations and even international news agencies. “If you wish to compete with Himiko, wife, then, by all means. But I swear to you, I will do everything — everything I can — to make the entire world know just how much of an opportunistic whore you are—”

You gaze up at your husband with fear in your eyes. “…I was not competing with Himiko, can I not care for our people — your people? I’m sure they need someone to promote their interests when their own prince couldn’t be bothered to do so!” you retaliate but are quickly shot down when he throws his scotch glass at the wall, causing you to flinch when it shatters on impact.

“I will make sure this humiliation you dealt to Himiko will return to you tenfold, (Y/N),” he dangerously seethes, coming to the aid of his mistress. “Celebrate your victory all you want, wife, but make no mistake, this is far from over.”

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who indifferently scoffs when you crumble into a sobbing mess after yet another argument with him. “W-what can I do to make you not hate me so much? P-please tell me, Satoru.” The only response you receive is your husband dangerously moving closer to you, his eyes, dark with pure loathing. Instinctively, you step backward, only to be met by the cold wall of your shared bedroom. “S-Satoru—“

“—Here’s what you can do: do exactly as I say, without question,” he traps you between his arms, his breath hot on your skin, his lips dangerously close to yours, his voice dripping with the venom that could turn every silver thread in your heart into a hue that resembled charcoal black. “If I tell you to kiss me, you kiss me. If I tell you to get out, you get out. If I tell you to shut up, you sew your mouth shut or rip your tongue out, I really don’t give a damn. If I tell you to die…”

…

…

“…You drop dead.”

a/n: meh, just wrote this at the top of my head to get rid of this stupid writer’s block since hehe i have like eighteen drafts of jjk smut and drabbles in my tumblr folder rn help :’)

might turn this into a multi-chapter fic depending on how it is received. so lemme know your thoughts by reblogging, liking or commenting on this post!

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo x reader

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Things Inupiaq culture doesn't traditionally have:

Kings/royalty (requiring tribute from the people you lead is seen as tyranical and tyrants are killed when possible)

A cash economy (dentallium shells were valued by many other cultures and sometimes were used as money in international trade, but not among fellow Inupiat)

Agriculture (we are traditionally a hunter-gatherer people seasonally following the herds, fish, and ripening greens and berries)

Corporal punishment (you aren't even supposed to yell at people or even scold children)

Slavery (you could argue this one since women were sometimes captured and taken as wives; but this is typically regarded as an ancient and morally questionable practice. The Inupiat didn't believe in owning people or their labor, only at best associating through marriage, blood relation, or wife-exchange)

Primogeniture as a hard-fast rule (Inupiat culture was traditionally patriarchal so a son may inherit his father's status as a family patriarch if he is already a father at this time, but material inheritence was not guaranteed to work that way)

A written language (historians were assigned to memorize records, family trees, and the like)

Human or animal sacrifices (would be considered cruel and wasteful)

Formal vs informal language (socio-economic class is mutable and does not affect language)

Gendered pronouns (our language uses pronouns to indicate tone of a sentence the way many languages use pronunciation, as well as relationship between subject and object in complex sentences and in all cases whether the subject is singular, dual, or plural and if the sentence is in first, second, or third person. An absolute fuckton of pronouns and none of them are gendered)

Raw meat taboo (except in the case of pregnancy; the arctic climate means the weather was not too far off from refrigerator or freezer temperatures, if not colder, and underground storage was often placed around frozen methane deposits known as permafrost)

Dog meat taboo (dogs were helpful as beasts of burden or sometimes hunting companions but when there's a famine you gotta eat what you can)

Many ceremonies taken for granted (for example, if a man and woman mutually agreed they were married, that was the only wedding required. We had big celebrations for survival, and women got incredible face tattoos for coming of age, but many lifestages were celebrated more low-key with little pomp and circumstance)

Shirts (you didn't wear anything underneath your atigi, and if it was too warm for it, you took it off. Yes, even women. Presbyterian missionaries thought we were godless sluts for our tits out ways)

Virginity marriage requirement (it was best if a woman hadn't had sex before but only because we lived in small communities and you have to keep track of bloodlines. Having sex didn't make girls unclean or impure and unwed mothers were taken care of by their families and weren't stigmatized)

Required monogomy (men could have multiple wives and women could have multiple husbands, wife exchange was a means of fostering allegiance, and the main problem with cheating is that it involved lying and prioritizing pleasure over duties like making sure your husband doesn't fall to his death while hunting. In stories about cheating and revenge, the cheater and retaliating jealous partner are both depicted as in the wrong)

There are more, but these i feel provide a pretty good basic idea of the culture. You can use these bits of info as Water Tribe worldbuilding inspo if you want, but i won't pester you into it. I just think my culture is neat and wanted to share ^-^

#eskimo on main #might talk about captured wives one of these days because that concept always facinated me

[coolshadowtwins]

Post Canon, SQQ now has to deal with wife plots.

But, Op, that’s the plot of many fanfics already! Well, what if he had to deal with every wife plot ever. Bingge had 300-3000 wives, depending on the translation you were following.

Man’s I have to assume that while each wife got at least one (1) wife plot to her name, the fan favorites (NYY, LMY, SHL etc) got multiple over the years.

Now, most of these were probably incredibly standard. And most of them, while frightening to the multitude of civilian wives Bingge probably had, were not going to be much more than an annoyance to a cultivator like SQQ.

The problem is the frequency.

It probably would take a few years for the story to catch up to the plot. SQQ gets hit with a few scattered ones here and there for the first decade or so, but he doesn’t think much of it. Shit just a happens to him, you know?

But then, all of a sudden, he gets kidnapped during a night hunt. The villain is the man that had called for help with a demon. In PIDW, he was the evil uncle/father/cousin/male authority figure in this wife’s life, wanting revenge on Bingge and ultimately introducing a new wife. Here, he’s decided that he’ll hurt Binghe’s husband instead Binghe himself. SQQ defeats him in an hour.

He goes home and tries to forget about it. Only to be hit with some kind of sex pollen from a plant that MQF was trying to study, completely by accident. In PIDW, this had been used to get another chapter out of a particularly laced up wife, who the comments disliked because they felt her boring.

And ok, fine. SQQ still has Binghe- they fix this problem in a night.

Only to be kidnapped again the next day when he goes to town, this time by a random demon looking for a quick buck.

This goes on and on. It’s almost never anything difficult, but it’s a lot. These are too many plots to happen to one man! Sure, Bingge was involved in all those plots too, but he was almost always the one coming in and saving the day- not the one kidnapped or poisoned or stabbed. It’s not long before SQQ gets exhausted, and that everyone around him is constantly on edge, waiting for the next bad luck.

It all kinda climax’s as the bamboo house gets set on fire. In PIDW, fire is used twice like this- once, a portion of the palace gets set on fire, leading to a arc where the wives have to come together to rptect themselves until Bingge shows up. (This arc was very disliked because most of the wives didn’t act in character.) the other time was when a wife was trapped in the burning of her family home, franticly trying to get her belongings out and then being comforted from the loss by Bingge afterwards.

SQQ knows this. He knows all of this. He has figured out what every plot has been so far, and had managed to avoid a few by recognizing the signs, only for them to come back around when he least expected it. He had thought that he could always just ride out the wife plots- sure, Binghe had a lot of wives, but it couldn’t be that bad, right? Except he watched the bamboo house on fire, frozen, and realized that he couldn’t keep doing this.

The bamboo house was fine, in the end. There were disciples on duty, ready to help. Nearly nothing was lost. The fire spread out into the woods, a little, but other than a small area of destruction, it hadn’t caused all together that much damage. Except SQQ couldn’t figure out which of the two plots this was, and that was freaking him out.

This leads to him breaking down on Binghe that night, who has been out of his head with worry for ages about what was going on. SQQ tells him everything, about SY, the system, wife plots. Binghe asks if they can stop this. SQQ doesn’t know how- these plots were for Binghe’s wives, and here he only has a husband.

And Binghe certainly doesn’t want another spouse. He’s quite happy with his husband, thank you very much! But he then he gets to thinking.

Bingge couldn’t have loved every single wife, right? Binghe had a feeling he didn’t act love any of them, judging by how quickly his other self had tried to latch onto Shizun. So it’s not the act of love that causes these so called ‘wife plots’, it’s the act of marriage. And Binghe’s not so cruel as to inflict these plots on someone unexpecting (well, for Shizun he was. But he had another option.)

Binghe had to be the one to marry them- but not the one they loved. And he knew, both fortunately and unfortunately, that there were many men that would do anything for SQQ.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #luo binghe #wife plots

[bumblingbabooshka]

What I Say: I'm fine. What I Mean: There was a Star Trek Novel in which Tuvok and Jack Crusher (Beverely's Husband) have to go undercover in a bathhouse that they think is a brothel to get information out of a potential lead and because of a series of hijinks at one point must come to terms with the fact that they're definitely going to have to go into the boss's private room completely naked and might have to go even further than that to get the info they truly need. They were ready to go all in on that "I'm not gay but a mission's a mission" life.

Transcripts under the cut

[Image 1:

“We’re here to meet someone,” he said. “I was told that a Melacron named Pudris Barrh enjoyed visiting this establishment.” The alien smiled. “Oh, I see…you’re one of Barrh’s boys,” she remarked with a knowing lilt. Barrh’s boys? Crusher asked himself. What did she mean by that? He experienced a moment of alarm but kept his composure.

“If you can get past Old Scowly there,” the female continued, “you can join Barrh at his pleasures if you like." She raised a long slender arm and pointed to a gilded door to her right.] [Image 2:

“I don’t know for certain what kind of establishment this is,” said the commander, “but I can make a pretty good guess.”

“Unfortunately,” the Vulcan whispered back with sincere and undisguised revulsion, “so can I.”

"Still, we may have to go along with it.” Crusher regarded Tuvok. “Would that…pose a problem?”  “Naturally,” the Vulcan replied.

The commander grunted. “I was afraid you would say that.”

“And knowing what I do of human marriage customs,” said Tuvok, “I would imagine it would pose a problem for you as well.”

Crusher looked lost “Maybe we could just play along for some of it…for the sake of-”

“My master will see you now,” said Old Scowly. He had reappeared before the Vulcan knew it. “You may enter through the changing room, remove your clothes, and join Pudris Barrh at his pleasures.”] [Image 3:

As it happened, Tuvok wasn’t happy either. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that the uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach was apprehension. Of course, that was impossible. His control over his emotions was impeccable. And yet the sensation remained.

“There must be another way,” said Crusher. “There is no other way,” the Vulcan told him. “This is the situation in which your plan has placed us.” He knew his words sounded biting, but he didn’t wish any of them back.

The human ran his hands through his thick, dark hair. “Damn it,” he said, “If Beverely ever…” “Find out about this?” the ensign suggested.

Frowning, Crusher nodded. “But as you say, there’s no other option open to us. I guess we’ll just deal with whatever comes as best we can.” He grunted. “The things we do for king and country.”] [Image 4:

When the air cleared for a moment - a byproduct of their entrance - the Vulcan was able to get a better look at their host. He was rather corpulent for a Melacron, it seemed, and more pale-looking than most.

As thick, sludgy ripples made their slow way outward from Barrh’s generous torso, he waved to Tuvok and Crusher. “Please, gentlemen, join me. We’ve not met yet, but there are few better places to get to know someone than in The House of Comfort!”

[Crusher] and Tuvok exchanged a quick glance. Taking a deep breath, the human walked up to the carpeted stairs and placed first one foot, then the other, into the hot, liquid muck.

The ensign had little choice but to follow suit. He assured himself, as he sank up to his chest in the thick, surprisingly pleasant-smelling stuff, that there was realy no logical reason T’Pel ever had to become acquainted with this misadventure.

Besides, he reflected, there was quite a good chance that the majority of his and Crusher’s actions would be classified. He had to confess that he found some comfort in the prospect.]

Bonus:

Tuvok and Crusher apparently both go home and tell their wives about this experience. I don't know if we learn of T'Pel's reaction but Beverely apparently thinks its hilarious!

#novel experiences #TUVOK. HEY. #-POINTS- #HE CAN'T KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS #Tuvok CANNOT keep getting into dubiously moral but incredibly gay scenarios he just can't I'm gonna start howling at the moon #The fact that he has a wife is so funny #GOD there was an old post I LOVED that was like #'I know Tuvok has a wife and kids and I'm so happy for him but he has sex with men.' #<- VERY paraphrased by me #st voyager #tng #Jack Crusher #Tuvok #st voy #star trek #Is he....you know? -gestures- One of Barrh's boys? #Crusher: We might have to suck this guy's dick Tuvok. / Tuvok: Tch. #I love that Tuvok's like 'he knew his words sounded harsh....and he meant it<3 He meant every syllable <3' #him being so devoted to his wife just makes the whole thing more lascivious /positive

[allthingsfangirl101]

Rough Patch – Joe Keery

The honeymoon phase in a relationship is real. So is the reality check that always follows once you wake up. Joe and I got married a year ago. The months leading up to the wedding were incredible. I never thought I'd be happier.

When we got back from our honeymoon and things started to settle down, he went back to work and I focused on fixing up our apartment. When he went back to work, he was gone a lot more. It made the first year very difficult for us. He wasn't around and I would get overwhelmed having to take care of everything while he was gone.

I have tried to be a supportive wife, but it's getting harder and harder for me. It's gotten too hard to go months without seeing each other, barely talking on the phone. I couldn't help but get tired of the unanswered texts and missed phone calls. I am tired of celebrating things by myself.

The last time he left was a few months before our first anniversary. He swore up and down that he'd be back in time. Our anniversary is tomorrow so I called him tonight to figure out our plans. He is getting on a plane first thing tomorrow morning and will be home by lunch.

"Hey, you."

"Hey, baby. Happy Almost Anniversary!" I giggled excitedly. "I am so excited, I have the entire night planned from the minute you get home to the minute we fall asleep naked in each other's arms. I thought we could go to the restaurant we had our first date. You know, the one you also proposed to me at? What time is your flight supposed to be getting in? I could pick you up from the airport and we could get lunch and then. . ."

"Y/N," Joe cut me off.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not going to be back in time."

My stomach dropped at his words. "What are you. . . What do you mean you won't be back in town?"

"No," he sighed. "Sorry."

"But. . ."

"It's not like it's a big deal," he mumbled.

"It's our anniversary, Joe," I said, the tears I was pushing down turning to anger. "It is a big deal. It's the first anniversary of our wedding, Joe. You can't just not come home. What? Am I supposed to celebrate by myself? That's. . . That's pathetic."

"Calm down, Y/N," he sighed. "We can celebrate it when I get home."

"And when will that be?" I demanded. "We've been married a year and I don't think we've spent more than one week sleeping in the same bed. You're never home, Joe."

"I work," he said.

"I'm aware of that but. . ."

"And what am I supposed to do, Y/N?" He challenged. "Not work? Well, if I don't work then we will become homeless. I have to work, Y/N."

"I know you have to work, Joe. But I feel like you see your coworkers more than you see your wife."

"That's normal. It happens."

"It shouldn't," I corrected. "Normal people with normal jobs go home to their wives every night. I can't remember the last time you worked on a job here in town and came home every night to me."

"What are you saying?" He challenged again. "You want me to quit?"

"No," I said quickly. "You know I never want that. I just want to see you more, Joe. I'm sorry for missing my husband."

I hung up the phone, the tears I'd been fighting finally falling. I sat on our bed, tears streaming down my face as I watched my hands shake. I waited for my phone to ring but it never did. I fell asleep that night with dried tears on my face and no messages on my phone.

* * * * *

I woke up on our anniversary completely alone. I forced myself out of bed and barely got myself dressed. I wore a simple pair of leggings and a baggy T-shirt. I slowly cleaned the apartment, going in and out of crying fits.

Around noon, my phone started ringing. When I saw who was calling me, my throat tightened. I let the phone ring as I saw Joe's contact picture. I couldn't bring myself to answer it. When it finally stopped ringing, I slowly walked away from my phone.

The day continued like that. I slowly went through my normal checklist of daily things to do, ignoring my phone that kept ringing. Around 3 o'clock, a delivery man came to the door and delivered flowers. I read the card but it didn't change how I felt.

I'm really sorry about not being there today. Please take yourself out to dinner and really spoil yourself. I will spoil you as soon as I get home. I promise! I love you, Y/N.

With Regret, Your Loving Husband, Joe.

I tossed the card onto the counter and left the flowers there. I didn't have the energy to accept his apology. This is what he always did. He missed important things, sent flowers, and came home acting like nothing happened. First, it was his birthday. Then it was Thanksgiving. He barely made it home on Christmas Day. He missed Valentine's Day. And now he was missing our anniversary.

I ordered some dinner and ate it while watching one of my favorite movies. Even my comfort movie didn't cheer me up. I threw away the trash and laid down on the couch. 

I was starting to fall asleep when there was a knock at the door. I slowly paused the movie and went to answer it. When I opened the door, my heart jumped into my throat.

"You're here," I said slowly.

"Hey, baby," Joe smiled weakly.

"Why did you knock on your own apartment?" I asked. "Did you lose your key?"

"No," he chuckled. "I didn't. I was just trying. . ."

"I thought you weren't getting in until late Monday night."

"I wasn't supposed to," he stuttered. "But after our fight last night and you weren't answering your phone this morning, I needed to talk to you. We need to talk about this, Y/N."

"You're missing work." I turned on my heel and walked back into our apartment.

"Y/N," he sighed as he chased after me. "Wait, hang on, baby. Please. Can we talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about?" I demanded as I turned around. "Clearly, your job is more important than our marriage."

"That's not true!" He defended.

"Really?" I challenged. "Joe, yesterday you acted like it wasn't a big deal to miss our first wedding anniversary."

"And that was wrong," he tried to interrupt.

"Do you know how many phone calls you miss? How many of my texts go unanswered? Do you know how many nights I go to sleep, wondering where my husband is and what he's doing? Wondering when I will see him? This hasn't been easy on me, Joe."

"It hasn't been easy on me either," he said.

"You have work to distract you from being alone," I cut him off. "I have nothing. I sit at home all day with nothing to do other than think about and miss my husband."

"You could always get a job." His sentence dropped when he saw the look on my face.

"You really want to go down this road?" I challenged.

"No, but. . ."

"But nothing," I cut him off again. "Joe, I can't keep doing this."

"Wait," Joe said quickly. He grabbed my hands, pulling me closer to him. He lowered his voice and whispered, "This is just a rough patch, baby. We can. . . We can work through this."

"Can we?" I asked, my voice breaking. "Because, right now, I feel like I've been doing all the work. I mean, when was the last time you called me? Joey, I don't know. . ."

Joe cut me off by pulling me closer and crashing his lips onto mine. I knew he was doing this to cut me off so I couldn't end this, but I didn't care. I missed this. I missed being in his arms. I missed being kissed by him. I missed the feeling he gave me as our lips moved in sync. I missed him.

I had tears streaming down my face as I broke the kiss. I took a step back, pulled my hands out of his, and wrapped my arms around myself.

"Joe," I whispered. "I can't be the only one in this relationship anymore. I mean. . . I feel like you don't love me anymore."

"What?" Joe gasped. "Y/N, do you really think. . . How could you. . . Y/N, baby, of course, I still love you. I never stopped. You really think that I stopped loving you?"

"Can you blame me?" My voice broke as the tears continued to stream down my face. Joe stepped up right in front of me and gently grabbed my elbows.

"I am so sorry that I made you think I didn't love you," he whispered. "I love you with all my heart, Y/N. You are the most important person in my life. I never should've made you feel like my job was more important than the love of my life. Please give me another chance. I will prove to you that you are more important. I will make sure you never go a day without knowing just how much I love you. I will do anything to make it up to you."

"I just need you around more," I said, my sob getting stuck in my throat. "I just need my husband."

Joe pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around him and cried into his neck.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered as he started rocking us back and forth. He reached up and started playing with my hair. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. I didn't say anything as he led us over to the couch and sat us down, neither one of us letting go of the other.

"I have an idea," he started, his voice still soft. "Tomorrow, we are going to wake up and make breakfast together. Then, after we get ready, I'm going to take you shopping and buy you whatever you want. We'll get lunch and go see that new movie you've been dying to see. We'll get dinner, come home, and spend the rest of the night in bed."

"Joe," I giggled when he changed his voice at the end. I playfully pushed him, but he instantly pulled me back into his arms.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered as he relaxed us into the couch. "And I am so sorry. It will never happen again. I promise, baby."

"I love you too, Joe."

#joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery imagines #joe keery husband

[absurdthirst]

Just Your Average Suburban Couple {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.3k

Warnings: Cheating, extramarital affairs, marriage of convenience, rough treatment, derogatory language (slut/whore/bitch), choking, rough sex, spanking, threats of death, guns, orgasm denial, fighting, oral sex (male receiving), hating fucking, murder

Comments: You are married to Dave York, on paper only. Both of you using your marriage as a cover for your work. Happy-ish with the arrangement even if he annoys you until Dave finds you tangled up in a neighbors arms and you find out exactly how much he does not like that.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Dave sighs as he sips his beer, standing by the group of men who are gathered around the BBQ debating the best way to cook a steak. “Medium rare.” He inserts his opinion, just a couple of words to make him seem interested, and his dark eyes slide across the yard to where you are standing with the wives. This suburban heaven, perfect for the new couple looking for the white picket fence and yard perfect for a dog to run around while they work on the 2.5 kids. A perfect cover. 

You catch his eye, sipping your spritzer, and he tilts his beer towards you, making you sigh. He wants to go. The food hasn’t been served yet but you know Dave has a job to go to tonight and he likely wants to prepare. You don’t want to leave yet, you’re starving and you want to put in an appearance. 

Your eyes shift and you meet the gaze of Kyle Tyson. Your next door neighbor and husband of Jackie. A small yet aggravating woman that makes you grit your teeth. You smile at Kyle and he winks at you, making you chuckle and bite your lip. You jerk your chin towards the house and he nods, letting you lead the way into the house. Dave sees it, the small actions that no one seems to notice but he does. He clenches his jaw, downing the rest of his beer as he follows you and Kyle into the house, determined to discover what you’re up to.

“Everyone’s outside.” Kyle pants, as he presses you up against the wall, running kisses down your throat as he slides his hands up your stupidly cute sundress. 

“That’s the point.” You giggle, reaching down and squeezing his rapidly hardening cock before your fingers quickly start to work his belt. You hate suburban life, you hate your husband and you need to get laid. This thing with Kyle is new and fun, plus it’s always amusing to pretend to be interested in what Jackie has to say when you have a load of her ‘perfect’ husband’s cum dripping out of your cunt and are sore from fucking him. “You know you like the idea of wearing my cum on your dick while you eat your hot dog.” You purr, reaching in and pulling out his cock to pump it a few times while his fingers slide through your wet folds. 

Dave watches you from around the corner before he makes his entrance. “What the fuck is going on?” He growls and Kyle pushes you away, fumbling to tuck his hard cock away. 

“No-nothing Dave.” Kyle stammers. Pussy. You want to roll your eyes. 

Dave shakes his head, “it didn’t look like nothing. You had your fucking hand down my wife’s panties.” Dave growls, stepping closer to Kyle who holds his hands up. 

“I didn’t - we - she - she seduced me.” He lies and Dave shakes his head, looking at you. 

“We are going home. Now.” He demands, grabbing your arm and you whine in protest. 

Kyle is helpless, terrified when he says “you’re not gonna tell Jackie, are you?” The idea of his wife finding out is horrifying. She would kill him.

Dave snorts, looking at Kyle. He doesn’t need to get involved in that kind of drama. This is between you and Dave. “No. That’s your business but you should fucking tell her before someone mysteriously does.” Dave threatens and Kyle’s eyes widen. Before he can say another word, Dave drags you through the house and out of the front door, along the sidewalk to your own slice of suburban heaven. 

“What the actual fuck were you thinking?” Dave hisses when you’re inside your home in the hallway.

“Oh come on.” You roll your eyes and pull your arm out of Dave’s grip, scowling at him. “No one was going to walk in and catch us. They hadn’t yet.” 

Dave growls, shaking his head and pushing you up against the wall. “You’ve done this before? You can’t do this!” He hisses angrily and your eyes turn cold, hard. 

Pushing back against him, you shove him away from you. “Don’t fucking touch me, David York.” You spit. “You might be married to me, but this is farce, remember? Who I fuck is none of your concern.” 

Dave hisses at you, crowding you against the wall with his chest but not touching you, “it might be a fake marriage but no one around here knows that. They just see my wife cheating on me with the neighbor. I won’t be made a fucking fool of, sweetheart. You are testing me. And him? Of all the men in the area. Jesus Christ. You picked a winner. What - does he cum in 3 pumps?” Dave snorts humorlessly.

Kyle didn’t have the longest stamina, but he made up for it with his tongue. You aren’t going to tell Dave that. “No one knows but the people I’ve fucked.” You tell Dave with a smirk, knowing he will seethe until he knows who all you have slept with. He wouldn’t be able to stand it. His downfall as an operative was letting his emotions run him at times, being too hot headed. It was going to get him killed one day. “I’m sure you’ve been such a good little boy since we’ve been married, haven’t you? Kept it in your pants?”

“That’s different. I didn’t fuck the woman across the street for people to find out.” He hisses at you, blood boiling. He hates to think that you are getting fucked by these neighborhood losers. “You- you are giving us a bad reputation. Me, you’re embarrassing me. They- they will think your husband doesn’t fuck you properly.” He shakes his head. Dave is all about keeping up appearances. Both of you have too much to lose to be fucking around. You both need this cover for your jobs and yet you’re putting everything at risk for some mediocre cock. 

“You don’t honey.” You coo mockingly and Dave breaks, his hand coming up to grab your neck, slamming you against the wall. 

“You’re a fucking cunt.”

Instead of crying out and trembling in fear, you scoff and laugh. Glaring back at him, you jut your chin out defiantly. “I’m the cunt you married.” You remind him softly, your words cutting through him like a knife to the heart. “The only time you’ve liked yourself was when you were trying to be someone this cunt might like.” Twisting your lips into a smirk, you lean back against the wall, panting softly. “I’m that cunt.” 

Dave’s blood boils, that vein in his forehead popping and he hisses your name, “how many of them have you fucked?” He growls, tightening his grip on your neck. “Tell me.” He demands, his patience wearing thin and he doesn’t want to admit why he’s acting this way.

You take more pleasure than you probably should at the way Dave’s eyes glitter darkly. He’s always pissed you off with his total disregard of your appeal, so it’s amusing to see his ego bruised. “Let’s see….” You hum playfully. “Jerry and Damon, Alex once…..” You pretend to think about it. “Everyone at the party but Scott.” You shudder slightly, something about the neighbor across the street made your stomach churn, and not in a good way.

Dave squeezes your throat a little harder, “you’ve fucked the entire street behind my back.” He growls, “you’re a fucking whore. Everyone is laughing at me, laughing at me not knowing my wife is the street slut.”

“Maybe you should have satisfied your wife if you didn’t want to be the laughingstock of the neighborhood.” You taunt him, your pussy clenching from the tight grip he has on your throat. No one knew and the men in this area were all to shit scared of their wives finding out about their dalliances and leaving them, taking half their money and draining them with spousal and/or child support.

“You didn’t want to fuck me. You didn’t want a wedding night. Sweetheart, we had a courthouse wedding, took photos, and both flew across the country to kill our targets. You would’ve bit my cock off if I had come near you. Instead, you’re fucking every single man in the goddamn zip code.”

You tut, shaking your head. “I’ve seen your dick, I wouldn’t have bitten it off. I wanted to suck it.” You shrug, “figured you would have shot me before I could get on my knees.” Despite the fact that you don’t share a bed, you’ve seen him naked by chance and have heard him jerking off in the shower several times. It seemed like Dave couldn’t stand you so you just moved on. You deserve to find satisfaction somewhere.

Dave can't stop himself. Your words have him hardening in his pants. He keeps hold of your neck, squeezing it as he surges forward to press his lips to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He's not delicate, he's rough, desperate to remind you that you are married to him. You are his wife.

Surprised, you quickly moan into the kiss, feeling like it is some sort of lesson. Not that you mind, you’ve always been one to like to learn. You learn that Dave enjoys biting, breaking away from your lips to map your jaw and neck with his teeth. Your arms come up and your fingers sink into his hair, pulling on it just as roughly as he bites. “Fuck, Dave.”

His fingers grip your jaw and he presses his forehead against yours. "I'm gonna fuck you. You are gonna take whatever I give you." He orders, pushing down on your shoulders to force you to kneel. "You are gonna suck my cock. Don't you dare bite or I'll fucking kill you." He warns, working on his belt buckle to pull his hardening cock out of his pants.

You have half a mind to refuse, just to spite him, but you’ve been curious about David Anthony York and he denied you your pleasure earlier. Instead of arguing, you slap his hands away to take over exposing his cock. Eager to see what it takes to make this man moan your name.

Dave smirks, watching you as you pull his hard cock out, eyes widening, and you look up at him while wrapping your fingers around his girth. “You impressed, sweetheart?” He chuckles, grabbing the back of your neck to push you towards his cock. “None of those fuckers in this neighbourhood impressed you with their dicks?”

You lift a brow, wanting to make a smart comment back about how there were a couple of men who could give him a run for his money but you don’t. Instead you lean in and press your tongue to the underside of his cock.

Dave groans when you wrap your lips around his cock, his grip on your neck loosening a little. You take him deeper and he pushes his cock further into your mouth. “You can take more. You’re a whore, you know how to take a cock down your throat.” He taunts you, “you can take more of it.”

Pulling your lips back, you show him your teeth just to watch him scowl at you. You hollow your cheeks and push him deeper into your throat until you hit the back. He wants to taunt you, but he can’t hurt your feelings.

He groans when you take him deeper, suctioning his cock into your mouth. You moan around him and he grabs your hair, “don’t act, sweetheart. I want real. I don’t want the bullshit you give those pathetic assholes down the street.” He hisses, pushing his cock down your throat and you choke on his girth.

The funny thing is, you aren’t acting, you like it. You like blowing a guy and having him fall apart under the direction of your mouth. Tears slide down your cheeks and you feel the spit bubbling out of the sides of your mouth.

Dave has no sympathy for you, his hips thrusting as he pushes his cock down your throat over and over again. He doesn’t care about you choking or gagging, he just wants to own you. You’re his, legally. He groans, pushing his cock deep one last time before he pulls his cock back, making you gasp as he suddenly withdraws. “Get in the fucking bedroom.” He demands, grabbing your hair to drag you up from your knees.

It amuses you that he thinks he can treat you like you are actually some suburban housewife. Like you aren’t deadly in your own rights. You have every intention of fucking him, but now you’re going to be a brat about it. Grabbing his wrist, you twist around until the pressure forces him to let go of your hair and you shove him back. “Who the fuck do you think you are, York?” You hiss, enjoying watching his face scrunch up in anger.

Dave grabs your arms, pulling you into his chest. “I’m your fucking husband.” He growls, letting go of you and he bends over, grabbing your thighs to lift you over his shoulder. He stalks into the bedroom, tossing you down onto the bed. “Fucking undress. Now.” He hisses his final warning, working on his button down.

You snort, wondering if he would rip your dress off if you refused. Since you actually like the damned dress, you shift to your knees and pull it up over your head, revealing your lack of bra since the top had one built in and the skimpy lacy panties that you had been wearing for Kyle. “Good enough?” You ask, admiring his smooth chest as he pulls off his button down.

Dave knows you were wearing those panties for the insipid prick next door and he clenches his jaw. “You’re a fucking whore. You know what happens to whores? They get fucked. Hard.” Dave promises, shrugging off his shirt and he pushes his pants down along with his boxers, kicking them aside. He grabs you, flipping you onto your stomach. “Are you wet enough? I don’t fucking care.” He chuckles darkly, straddling your thighs and he grips his cock, positioning it at your entrance and he pushes into you without any foreplay. He’s girthy but you can take it.

All you give him is a grunt. Not wanting to let him know how hard you are biting down on your lip to keep from moaning. He stretches you out amazingly and it’s been a long time since someone fucked you this hard. The only thing that surprises you is that York didn’t put on a condom. Controlling your breathing, you look over your shoulder. “Are you going to fuck me? I don’t have all day.” You taunt.

Your words make him smirk, his chuckle echoes through his body to yours, and he reaches out to smack your ass. “Patience, wifey. I will fuck you when I want. How I want.” He clicks his tongue and you whine when he doesn’t move. He waits until you’re squirming before he pulls back, nearly falling out of you until he thrusts hard and deep inside of you. He sets that same pace, fucking you hard and fast, his hips slam against your ass.

This time you can’t hold back the moans. Gripping the sheets of the bed you sleep on without him every night you cry out. “Fuck, Dave!” Your eyes roll back, loving how deep he’s getting and you know that you will be sore tomorrow. “More.”

His hand presses down on the back of your neck, pushing you into the mattress, “shut the fuck up. I’m in charge now. You’re my slut now.” He reminds you, rocking his hips and he suddenly slows down, making you whine in protest. He pushes two fingers into your mouth, his cock slowly dragging through your walls.

It’s demeaning and if it were any other man, you would snap his fucking neck. But because it’s Dave, you suck on his fingers and whine as your walls clench down around his cock. He feels incredible, scratching an itch you’ve had for a long time and you love the rough way he’s treating you. You bite him just to see what he would do. 

When you bite down on his fingers, he snorts, withdrawing them from between your teeth so he can slap your cheek. “Don’t bite. It’s rude.” He reprimands and grips your jaw. He presses his entire body over you, his face near yours and he starts to fuck you hard once more. “You’ve been such a naughty girl. Fucking all the neighborhood husbands. Been a bad little whore. You’re my whore now, baby. You’re mine. My wife. The only one who gets this pussy is me. Tell me it’s mine.” He orders, still gripping your jaw.

Your eyes roll back again, his filth pouring into your ears and going straight to your cunt. “Yours.” You moan quietly, mouth going slack jawed when he hits something deep inside you and you squeal when he hits it again. “Fuck, it’s yours.”

His cock twitches inside of you upon hearing the words that your pussy belongs to him. He loves that. “Don’t fucking forget it.” He growls, slapping your cheek again and he continues to thrust deep and hard into you. His hands shifting to grab your tits, sliding his hands under you to squeeze them while he rocks deep into you. “Did you let them cum inside of you?” He asks you, wanting to know.

You squeeze his cock with your cunt, enjoying the harshness of his tone rasping in your ear. Jealousy drips from his words and it makes you smirk. For a man who was just married to you on paper alone, he was acting like a husband. “Yes.” You hum, aware of the fact that you wouldn’t get pregnant, but he doesn’t know that. “Ev-every time.”

​​Dave growls, sliding his hand up to squeeze your neck. “You’re a fucking slut. What if - what if they knocked you up? You could’ve jeopardized our entire fucking cover having a baby daddy. You stupid whore.” He slaps your cheek, reprimanding you as his cock pushes deeper, spearing against your cervix.

You choke out a moan at the slap, giggling slightly at how furious he is. Instead of correcting him, you just push your hips up. “Le-legally it would be yours.” You tease, knowing that would make him even madder. Your fingers twist around the bedding and you moan again, loving how brutal he is being. He was right that the men in the neighborhood weren’t vicious like this and you needed it.

Dave hates the thought of you pregnant with another man’s child. “I would kill you if you had another man’s baby.” He threatens, slapping your cheek again as he keeps up his pace.

“Temper, t-temper.” You pant out, eyes closing as the delicious knot of pleasure starts to build in your core. You’re so close to having the best fucking orgasm you’ve had in a long time and it’s thanks to the asshole you married. “So- fuck, so close, Dave.”

Dave lets go of your throat, pushing deep and he grabs your ass as he buries his cock inside of your walls, twitching while a loud groan escapes his lips, his orgasm making him shake and he pulls out while he’s still spurting, his hot seed hitting your ass and lower back. He pants, closing his eyes for a moment until he shuffles off of the bed, spent cock still aching with his release. “Don’t you ever fucking disrespect me like that again. Clean yourself up.” He orders and grabs his pants, walking out of the bedroom to leave you laying there, his cum cooling on your skin.

Huffing, you turn on your side and feel his cum drip down your skin and you can’t help but get in a parting shot. “Seems like you’re the one who can’t satisfy your wife, David!” You yell after him, rolling your eyes to yourself as you climb off the bed and move towards your bathroom, eager to finish what he started with the toy you have in there. 

Dave ignores you, heading for his room so he can get into the shower. He’s still fuming that you fucked the entire neighborhood, especially when his own liaisons have been far away from home. He’s had hints from several wives but he’s never done anything for fear of risking your cover. He is annoyed that he’s jealous. Hating that you’ve somehow gotten under his skin. He washes off and gets ready for his op, deciding to leave early so he can get his mind straight.

In your own shower, you grind against the toy that is suctioned to the wall, not nearly as satisfied with it as Dave had felt inside you. Biting your lip and sinking your hand between your thighs, you wish that you had just fucking cum when he had fucked you. Hating that he feels as if he has the upper hand now. Like he has claimed you. He had been the one to tell you that it was a sham marriage and now he’s pissed that you treated it as such. Your fingers circle your clit and you moan quietly, cumming with his name on your lips. 

****

When Dave gets back from his op the next morning, he finds you in the kitchen, sipping your coffee and staring out the window to the back yard. “Morning sweetheart.” He announces his presence, setting his duffel bag down on the floor. “Missed me? Hopefully you didn’t fuck the neighbor while I was away.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn from the window and send him a smirk. “You missed it. I invited all of them over last night and they ran a train on me.” You taunt, taking a sip of your coffee. “It was wild. Just finished cleaning up all the cum before you walked in the door.” The funniest part of that was that your sheets are in the washing machine, the weekly cleaning but the sound of the machine can be heard from the kitchen. “Anyway, welcome home, dear. Do you want me to cook you some breakfast like a good little housewife?” 

Dave knows that’s not true. He monitored the security cameras. No one came inside the house. He rolls his eyes and sits down at the table, still mad at you for putting you both at risk. “I want some eggs. Coffee. Bacon.” He rattles off what he wants, knowing he’s being a dick but you have some making up to do.

“Good.” You hum, walking over to him and setting your coffee down in front of him and kissing him on the cheek before you stand straight. You make sure the kiss was wet, sloppy and leaves a mark on his skin that he will have to wipe off. “Have fun making that.” You turn to walk out of the room, having no intention of acting like his good little wife. You are married on paper and the fucker didn’t even let you cum yesterday. 

Dave mutters under his breath, unable to believe you have just left without cooking anything. He scowls as he wipes his cheek, huffing before he stands up. “Fucking bitch.” He hisses and stalks after you, finding you just about to walk up the stairs. “You’re such a bitch.” He growls, grabbing your ankle to pull you down and you gasp as you land on your hands on a step, his hand dragging you down the stairs.

Twisting your body, your free foot kicks out, striking Dave in the jaw and making him let go of your ankle with a curse. Instead of scrambling to get away, you decide to attack. “Bitch?” You screech, launching yourself at him and forcing him down to the ground before you punch him in the ribs. “I. Didn’t. Do. Anything. Wrong.” You spit out as you and Dave wrestle for control, your legs straddling his waist. 

Dave grabs your arms, stopping you from punching him, and you struggle to get free. He keeps his grip tight and pushes your legs open with his so you can’t flip him. You continue to struggle until you decide to fight dirty, grinding down onto him. “You - you fucked everyone in the community. I haven’t - no one can know about us.” He reminds you, groaning and his cock hardening as you grind down onto him.

“They just- they think I’m unhappy.” You hiss, smirking when you feel him start to grow against your panties. “Like they are.” You don’t care what they think, they have enough issues without throwing stones at what you have done. It doesn’t hurt that you’ve dug up enough dirt on everyone in the neighborhood if you need it. “What pisses you off more Dave? That I fucked them or I didn’t fuck you?” 

His hands let go of yours and he grabs your hips instead, moving you on his cock. “You’re my wife. You should be in my bed. If you wanted to be fucked, you should’ve told me. I would’ve fucked you however you wanted. You didn’t need to go to those pricks down the street. My cock is yours, both legally and in reality. All you have to do is ask.”

You stop moving, staring down at him for a moment and narrowing your eyes. You can’t tell what his game is, if he’s playing one. All you know is that he is acting like he wants this to be real, more than a cover marriage. Biting your lower lip, you pout slightly. “You didn’t make me cum.” You point out. “You got what you wanted and left me high and dry.” It sounds pitiful, because it is, but you had wanted to scream his name and he denied you. 

Dave chuckles at your whine, “you had to be punished.” He explains, slapping your ass as you continue to grind down onto his cock. “Take what you want, sweetheart. You want to cum? Take my cock out and ride it until you cum.” He orders, wanting you to do it but it has to be your decision.

You contemplate your options. The toy had technically gotten you off, but it wasn’t the same as getting fucked. Plus it will be another encounter with Dave where he’s clothed. Still….you huff and shuffle your hips down so you can unbuckle his belt and pull his cock out. You are still in your nightgown and you have no intention of taking it off. 

He chuckles at the way you eagerly take his cock out and lift your gown so you can sink down onto him. “Jesus.” He hisses at how tight you are as you lower yourself onto him. “Baby. Take what you want. It’s your chance.” He informs you, watching your mouth as you pout.

You whine softly, the sting of him stretching you out again after the rough sex making your cunt flutter. “Fuck, Dave.” Tilting your head back, you give yourself a moment to adjust while you make small circles with your hips. You hate that he feels so good, that his cock makes you gasp when he twitches inside you. “You’re going to make me cum this time. Or you won’t fuck me again.” You warn when you look down at him again. 

Dave snorts, “it’s all you this time, darling. Make yourself cum on my cock. I won’t deny you this time. If you deny me though, you’ll fucking regret it. Come on, ride my dick like you’ve probably done to every other man in town.” He slaps your ass again but doesn’t move you, wanting you to take what you want.

Rolling your eyes, you slap your hand down on his chest as you start to move. Pressing your lips together so you don’t give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan out in pleasure. Closing your eyes when he smirks at you, guessing what your game is. Fuck him. Fuck him and his cocky attitude. He wants to dictate you to not deny him when he left you unsatisfied? Your lips twitch and you decide to piss him off. “Fuck…Kyle.” You whimper quietly. 

Dave reacts immediately, his hand coming up to grip your jaw. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name while I’m inside of you. I’ll fucking kill him if you do it again.” He warns, knowing you know he’s serious. “Faster.” He demands, thrusting up into you.

For someone who wanted you to take what you wanted, he’s awfully demanding. It’s your turn to slap his cheek, smirking when his eyes narrow on yours. David York doesn’t scare you. “You lay there.” You huff. “This is my fucking time to cum.”

Dave chuckles, “there’s the woman I married. Come on, fucking ride me.” He demands again and you grip his jaw, leaning down to slide your tongue into his mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up.” You demand, biting down on his lower lip. 

Shit, Dave kind of likes that. He squeezes your hips, keeping still for you.

Now it’s your turn to use him. Bracing your hands on his chest and starting to ride him harder. Your hips are rolling and your body starts to shake as you bounce on his cock. Leaning forward until he hits perfectly inside you. Gasping and clenching around him while you keep that same pace. 

Dave hisses when you start to bounce on his cock, using him for your pleasure and his hands quickly find your tits, squeezing and pinching your nipples. “Come on sweetheart, you can do better than that.” He taunts you, slapping your tit through your nightgown.

You hiss, slapping his hands away and then slap his cheek again. “Keep it up and I’ll zip tie you to the floor and make you watch while I fuck Kyle.” You threaten, enjoying the way he snarls and snaps his hips up. You laugh, leaning down and biting his bottom lip again. “You forget I can kill you too, York.” 

That reminder is unbelievably sexy to Dave, his cock twitching violently inside of you. “Jesus Christ. You- I’d kill you before you could kill me.” He defends himself, knowing you’re an incredible assassin but he’s better, stronger. You’re smarter, as much as he hates to admit that. “Are you gonna keep threatening me or are you gonna cum?” He taunts you breathlessly, your cunt so tight and hot around his cock.

“Oh you liiiiiike that.” You chuckle, biting his lip again and moaning when you start to fuck him harder. Pushing up from where you are laying across him so you can bounce on his cock harder. “Fuck, fuck, you’re an- an asshole but you have a- a good cock.” You moan, rocking your hips harder while you chase your release.

Dave watches you as you push yourself closer to your orgasm. Your tits bounce and he keeps his hands by your hips, not holding, just hovering. “Is my little slutty wife gonna cum all over my cock?” He asks, a breathless chuckle escaping his lips. “Come on baby. Cum for me. Cum for your fucking husband.”

“Fuck you.” You pant, grinding down on him just as your world explodes in a kaleidoscope of colors, blinding you while pleasure shoots through every pore of your veins. “Fuck! Fuck! Dave.” His name falls from your lips by accident, caught up in the bliss of your orgasm.

He fucking loves hearing his name on your lips, a groan escaping his mouth as he squeezes your hips, working you up and down his cock. He hisses when your walls grip him in a vice and he struggles but manages a dozen thrusts up into you before he buries his cock deep and paints your walls with his cum.

Panting quietly, you close your eyes, dropping your head down until your chin rests on your chest. You feel him relax underneath you and his hands let go of your hips. Reminding yourself that he just wanted to fuck you because he found out you were fucking the neighbor, you lean forward and tap his cheek with your hand playfully. “Good ride, York.” You tease. “Now you can say you made your wife cum. Once.”

Dave rolls his eyes, “only the best treatment for you, Mrs. York.” He retorts, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you down for a surprisingly tender kiss, his tongue licking along your lips. He hated finding out that you were fucking the neighbor.

You let yourself kiss him back, giving into the moment and imagining if you are really married to him. That it was for love rather than an arrangement between two assassins to maintain their cover. Your tongue slides into his mouth and you remember that isn’t reality, pulling back with one last kiss. You slide off his cock and stand up, looking down at him on the floor of your entryway. Instead of saying something stupid, you turn around and walk up the stairs, needing to go clean up.

Dave sighs, his head hitting the floor as he rubs his face. “Fuck me.” He murmurs, trying to process what just happened. He groans as he sits up, tucking himself back into his pants and he walks into his office, deciding to just get stuck into work. It’s going to be a long day. When you appear a while later, dressed and with a coffee in hand, Dave looks up from his computer. “Is it poisoned?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, about to make a sarcastic comment before you stop yourself and just shake your head. “Not poisoned. And there’s a bacon and egg sandwich waiting in the kitchen if you want it.” You had broken down and fixed his fucking food, telling yourself it was just because you wanted some eggs.

Dave’s eyebrows raise at the news that you cooked for him. He stands up, grabbing the cup of coffee and he walks over to you, kissing your forehead as he passes, “thanks wifey.” He calls and makes his way into the kitchen, starving since he hadn’t eaten all morning.

You snort and purse your lips as you decide that you won’t push things. You have some paperwork of your own to finish up from your last assignment. The good thing about having such a big house and no kids is that you both have spaces to retreat to. The office downstairs is Dave’s and you had taken one of the upstairs bedrooms as your own space. Settling into your chair, you boot up your laptop and get to work. 

*** 

Dave grunts as he wakes up, your back is turned towards him, naked and illuminated by the morning sun. Dave can’t help himself, he shuffles closer to you, kissing along your shoulder and neck, your sleepy whimper making him chuckle. “Morning wifey.” He teases, nipping your shoulder.

It takes you a moment to remember why he is in the bed beside you. Last night when you had got to bed, Dave had come into the bedroom and demanded to sleep beside you. Claiming that your cover required it and it had turned into another satisfyingly rough session of sex. Shivering because of his lips on your skin, you crack your eyes open and turn your head to look at him, “morning hubby.” 

Dave leans away from you, looking down at your sleepy face and his heart thumps in his chest. That makes him frown and he shuffles out of the bed, deciding to have a piss. After washing his hands, he looks over at you when he comes out of the bathroom. “I’ll go put the coffee on.” He says, making his way downstairs to the kitchen with his boxers on.

It’s amazing how fucking hot and cold Dave York blows. You roll your eyes and climb out of the bed, annoyed he had left you to make up both sides since he had just walked out. You pull your nightgown and  robe on, muttering to yourself as you straighten the sheets and blankets, putting the decorative pillows against the headboard. This is ridiculous, you married him so you wouldn’t have to deal with issues like hurt feelings or bruised egos and you’re having to deal with it anyway. Plus you hate the way you had been disappointed he had left the bed.

Dave sips his coffee, yours waiting on the counter, and he watches you walk into the kitchen. “You have that target tonight?” He asks and you nod, grabbing the cup of coffee. He likes how you look in the morning, hair messy and face clean and sleepy. You’re beautiful and he hates that he seems to be softening towards you.

“I do.” You groan after taking a sip of the coffee and letting the strong brew sit on your tastebuds. “I’ll be back tomorrow. So don’t wait up for me tonight.” It’s normal for either one of you or both to go out of town, so it’s not unusual. “I’ll have to make sure it’s clean because the target has gotten paranoid.”

Dave nods, knowing it’s more complicated when the target realizes they are on someone’s hit list. “No problem, baby.” The nickname slips out and he decides to not act like it’s a big deal. The doorbell rings and Dave frowns, grabbing the glock he keeps in the kitchen drawer and he holds it in his hand while he makes his way towards the front door. Hardly anyone comes to the house. 

You follow Dave into the hall and he turns to look at you, “get back.” He hisses and you shift around the corner. Dave braces himself as he opens the door. 

“Oh Dave. I, uh, didn’t realize you were home.” It’s Kyle and Dave clenches his jaw as his finger twitches over the trigger. It would be easy to kill Kyle and God, he’s tempted, but he lowers the gun, tucking it into his boxers as he opens the door. 

“Honey, it’s Kyle.” He says through gritted teeth.

You straighten up, still in your robe and walk towards the door. Annoyed that the dumbass has decided to come to the house after being caught yesterday by Dave. “Kyle, what are you doing here?” You frown, stepping out from behind the wall and walking towards the two men. The last thing you need is some sort of pissing contest on the front lawn. Or for Dave to kill the poor bastard.

Kyle swallows harshly, looking between you and Dave. “I just - I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I didn’t - I was worried he had hurt you.” 

Dave scoffs and opens the door, “come in. See for yourself. She’s fine. I wouldn’t hurt my wife.” He emphasizes the word. Kyle nervously walks into the hallway, his eyes fixed on you. Dave wants to shoot him, fingers twitching, but it wasn’t worth the clean up. Or the move after the wife buys the bullshit story that he shot himself. Wasn’t worth the hassle, no matter how much Dave is glaring at him.

You want to scoff and tell Kyle that he shouldn’t insult you like that but he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that both of you are skilled and deadly. “We’re fine.” You promise him, crossing your arms over your chest. “But obviously we can’t continue sleeping together.” You roll your eyes. “And I know you don’t want Jackie to find out. Dave isn’t going to tell her. He doesn’t want it to get out, so I trust this stays between the three of us?”

Dave’s fingers twitch with the urge to strangle the fucker but he remains calm, letting you handle this. Kyle looks between you and Dave, “what about - you said - I don’t - Jackie doesn’t give me what I want. He doesn’t give you what you need. Please baby, can we - can’t we just continue? You said you don’t love him.” 

Dave is furious when he hears that, grabbing Kyle and shoving him up against the wall. “What the fuck did you say?” He hisses, his fingers wrapped around his neck.

“Dave!” You rush forward and grab his arm, certain that he is about to kill Kyle. It’s ego, it has to be ego. That’s why Dave is reacting like a mad man. “Don’t!” You hiss, digging your fingers into the pressure points. “If you kill him, everyone finds out why.”

Dave growls at you, dropping his arm. He’s tried so hard to keep his cover and it’s crumbled in a matter of moments. “Don’t you fucking ever look at my wife again. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even breathe in her direction otherwise I will fucking kill you.” Dave threatens Kyle.

“Woah man, yeah- yeah, I won’t- I won’t ever look at her again.” Kyle promises shakily and you swear he’s on the verge of pissing his pants. True to his word, his head doesn’t turn towards you as he slides past Dave, ducking his head as he fumbles for the door and bolts outside. 

“Shit.” You huff. “Did you have to threaten him?” Closing the door, you wonder why the fuck he cares so much.

Dave huffs, turning towards you, his blood is boiling. He doesn’t hesitate to grab you, spinning you and pushing you up against the wall. “You liked his cock?” He asks, shoving your nightgown up your hips with one hand, his other hand grabbing your thigh to lift it into his hip and he pushes two fingers inside of you after letting go of your nightgown.

You hiss, hating the way your walls clench around his fingers. “Stop acting jealous, David.” You spit, glaring at him over your shoulder. “You and I never touched each other. Don’t believe I didn't know about the secretary at the office who sucks your dick every Thursday after the department meeting.”

Dave pumps his fingers into your cunt, feeling you get wetter by the second and he leans in to kiss your neck. “She just sucks my cock. Nothing else. Likes that I give her more time off for it.” He reasons with you, knowing you don’t know about the liaisons he’s had during ops. “I get to act jealous. You’re my wife. How would you feel if I was fucking that pretty blonde down the street, Delilah?” He counters, pressing his thumb against your clit.

You moan, hating yourself for the flash of rage that floods your body and you imagine killing her. “That dumb bitch?” You scoff, fingers digging into his shoulders and your hips roll forward, eager for his touch. “She- fuck, she would bore you. Lay there like a limp fish.” You don’t have a clue how she would be. You know Dave assumes you fucked her husband, but you haven’t. You whimper when he curls his finger again and clench around him. “Fuck Dave, fuck me already.”

His cock is hardening but he wants you to suffer a little longer. “No. You’ll cum on my fingers first like a good little slut.” He reminds you, nipping your jaw before he pulls back to look into your eyes. “Then maybe tonight I’ll go find Delilah?” He taunts you, “maybe she has a tight little pussy for a limp fish.”

Your lips curl into a sneer, hating how fucking jealous you are and your hand comes up to grip his jaw. Leaning in, your eyes dark with anger, you whisper, “you can’t dictate to me who I fuck and think you can do whatever you want.” It’s more of a hiss but David, the bastard, just gives a smug chuckle and curls his fingers deeper. It pisses you off and you shove at his chest. “Get the fuck off me.” You demand, pulling his fingers free of your cunt and shoving him again. “I’ll finish it my fucking self. Don’t touch me.”

Dave lets you push him away and he snorts, “you finish yourself off, sweetheart, you and I both know it won’t be the same. You’ve gonna be aching for my cock to fill you up. I might as well take care of myself.” He has no qualms reaching into his boxers and pulling his hard cock out. He spits into his hand and starts to jerk himself, watching your chest heave.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” You spit, hating how you want to fuck him even now. Dave confuses you and it pisses you off. This was supposed to be a simple arrangement. “Go fuck the limp fish, see if I care.” You huff, turning around to walk away. You do care, but you’re not going to let him know that.

Dave snorts, letting go of his cock and striding towards you. “You want me to fuck you.” He says as a statement rather than a question while he pushes you up against the wall again. His cock now pressed against your stomach as he cups your cheeks, “tell me you want my cock, sweetheart. You can have it. It’s not hers. Legally, it’s yours.”

You seethe, knowing that you will hate yourself for this but you want him. He’s very caught up on the legality of this which is funny considering you both break the law for a job. “I told you to fuck me.” You remind him. “You’re the one playing games. You could already have made me scream your name. Your name, no one else’s.”

“I like the chase.” Dave tells you, shoving your nightgown up again and he hitches your leg over his hip, using his other hand to notch himself at your dripping cunt. He slowly pushes into you, wanting to feel all of you, to savor it.

“Chase.” You scoff. “What good is a chase when we’re married.” You lean back against the wall and moan his name, breathless at how good he feels inside you. If you had known he would feel like this, you would have arranged to fuck him when you needed relief. “Fuck.” You whimper, feeling him throb inside you. “You better make me cum.”

Dave chuckles, grabbing your other thigh to put it on his hip, lifting you off of the ground so he can fuck you into the wall. “Don’t worry baby, wanna feel you soak my cock this time.” He works his hips, shifting the angle with each thrust until he hears you cry out. “Tell me what feels the best.”

When he’s not being a dick, Dave can fuck. “Har-harder.” You beg, holding onto his shoulders and moaning at every sharp snap of his hips. Banging you against the wall and filling you just like you need, scratching an itch you didn’t even realize you had.

He slams into you, following your order, and he hisses your name. “You like this, don’t you? My wife’s a little whore. Are you my little whore?” He asks, gripping your thighs and bouncing you a little on his cock.

"Shi-shit." You moan, nodding frantically as you hold onto him. "Ye-yes. I'm your whore." You would say anything right now with the way that his cock drills into you and hits just right inside you.

He loves hearing that. Fucking loves hearing you call yourself his whore. He groans your name, continuing to push into you in that spot, wanting you to gush around him.

He presses you into the wall and keeps hammering into you. "F-fuc-fuck!" You gasp out, loving how you feel with him fucking into you harshly.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asks you with a growl, “you gonna soak my cock? I want you to cum for me.” He orders, growling as your walls flutter around him. He crosses your ankles behind his back and lets go so you are secure, his body pressing you into the wall so he can press his thumb to your clit.

“Shit!” You cry out, eyes fluttering closed and your body stiffens when he presses your clit and start rubbing circles on it. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum- I’m- I’m gonna-“ you cut yourself off, gasping out his name when you cunt clenches down around his cock.

He groans when you grip his cock, making him hiss in response and he thrusts harder into you to try and work you through your orgasm. “That’s it baby. No one else makes you feel like this, do they?” He says through gritted teeth, “only me.” He adds, thrusting into you. “Beg me to cum. Beg me to cum inside of you.” He demands, his thumb now off of your clit so he can grab your thigh, adjusting the angle.

“Fuck.” It shouldn’t be that sexy to hear him say that. But it is. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, clinging to him and you pitch forward to lick a long line up his neck and over his jaw. Biting down on his chin, you hum, “cum for me. Fill me up.” You kiss his jawline. “Want to drip your cum while I kill a man tonight.”

Fuck, that does him. He loves hearing that and he sends him over the edge. He buries his cock deep inside of you, moaning your name as he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed while he turns his head to press his lips to yours, tongue plunging deep to smother his own moans of your name.

Heat fills you, eyes closed while you kiss him back during the long moments it takes for him to ride out his high. Grinding into you as he pumps his cum deep and finally comes to a rest. You almost hate when he pulls away, eyes opening to find him staring at you and you wonder what he is thinking.

Dave stares at you for a moment, wanting to tell you what he’s thinking but he knows it wouldn’t help either of you. He grunts, pulling out of you and moving your panties over to stop his cum from dripping onto the floor. “You’ve got to prepare for your op.” He says as he clears his throat, tucking his cock back into his boxers.

“Right.” The moment is gone and you nod, turning and walking on shaky legs towards the stairs. You’re going to have your wish, you’ll be dripping his cum all day. Except now you want to know what he would have said, biting your lip as you climb the stairs and wonder when the fuck you decided to start falling in love with your fucking husband.

****

Dave watches you as you finish the eggs and toast he cooked this morning. You've been sleeping together for a few months and as far as he knows, you haven't slept with anyone else. Neither has he, even stopping the secretary sucking his cock every Thursday. You sip your coffee, offering him one of those smiles that makes his heart clench and you tell him thank you for breakfast. "You're welcome, baby." He winks and stands up, grabbing your plates.

It’s been almost like a honeymoon with Dave. The past few months have brought both of you closer together in a way that seems almost natural. It’s almost on the tip of your tongue to admit your feelings for him, but you stop yourself. You don’t know how he feels and you don’t want to make yourself vulnerable to him if it’s just about the sex and “claiming” his wife. “You have a job tonight, right? For a few days?” You pout slightly, knowing it will be the first overnight job since the morning you came back after the showdown with Kyle.

“Yeah. International job. Gotta fly to London.” He tells you, trusting you with the details. It would be so easy to give all of himself to you, to tell you how he feels, but he can’t put himself at risk like that. “Don’t worry baby. I’ll bring you back something nice.” He promises, winking at you as you pout. “Plus I promise to make you cum as many times as I would’ve made you cum if I was here when I get back.” He promises you, winking as he loads the dishwasher.

“You better.” You smirk, watching Dave bend over and admiring his ass. There’s something sexy about watching your husband be domestic. The best part about it is that you never have to ask him to cook or clean up. “I’m going to just stay home this weekend while you are gone. Drink some wine and use my toy.” You tease with a wink of your own.

“Take photos. Videos. I want to see when I come back.” Dave growls, leaning down to nip your neck. The domestic life suits you and if he’s being honest, him. He likes how easy it is with you. You know him, the darkest parts of him, and you don’t reject him. He likes that. He love- no, he won’t say that. He finishes loading the dishwashers and he stands up, leaning down to peck your lips. “I'm gonna go get ready. I can’t be late for my flight.” Dave says and walks out of the kitchen, trying to focus his mind.

****

The house seems lonely without Dave, too big for just you. Instead of focusing on that, you decide to tackle the project you wanted to surprise your husband with. Despite sharing a bed for the past few months, all of Dave’s clothes were still in the now spare bedroom’s closet. You want to move everything over and organize it. Hopefully show him that you are open to a more realistic marriage with him.

Dave misses you. Fuck, that takes a lot for him to admit to himself. He thinks about you during the eight hour flight, during the taxi ride to his hotel, during the pre-op prep, even during the fucking op itself. As soon as the bullet is in the asshole's brain, Dave is heading to his room to grab his bag, eager to get back to you. He buys you a perfume that he knows will drive him crazy and you will love before he boards the flight home. He's early and he can't wait to surprise you. Cutting down the trip to two days instead of three, he doesn't call you to tell you he's on his way home like he normally would. 

He frowns when his phone rings just before he gets to his car. "Hello?" He answers the unknown number, glancing around the parking garage. 

"Hello David." The voice isn't familiar but the tone makes Dave narrow his eyes. 

"Who are you?" He snaps, immediately on edge. 

"An old friend. Decided to pop by and visit your beautiful wife. She's so pretty. I wish you didn't threaten me to stay away from her. Her little cunt was perfect for me. Shame you fucked up my little gig." 

Dave frowns, quickly putting the pieces together. "Kyle?" He scoffs, "what the fuck are you doing in my house? I'm gonna fucking kill you." He growls and his heart is pounding, realizing you might've fucked this asshole again and that hurts far more than any bullet.

Humming to yourself, you smirk as you run your hands across the numerous suits that Dave has, stroking the fabric. Your favorite is lined up first, it makes his ass look amazing and you might have snuck a look at the tags so you can order him another. All his clothes have been moved over. From socks to underwear and all his shoes. All you need to do now is bring over his toiletries into the master bath from the one he had been using. It’s just as the music that you had been playing changes to another song that you hear it. The slight creak downstairs, a floorboard that Dave had told you that he would fix when he got back.

"Tick tock, Dave. I'm gonna fuck her one last time before I slit her pretty little throat. She's got quite the bounty on her fucking head." Kyle chuckles and hangs up. 

Dave growls, his anger echoing in the parking garage and he rushes to get into his car, speeding out of the parking lot and revving through the parking levels as he rushes to get back to you.

Just because you are in your own home, doesn’t mean you are helpless. The second you realize that you aren’t alone in the house despite the alarm being set, you move towards the door where your weapons are stored. Quietly pressing your thumb on the biometric lock, the door slides open and you pick up your weapon, the weight of the handgun firm in your hand. You decide to place innocent, daft. “Dave? Baby? Did you come home early?”

Dave curses the traffic as he speeds back to the house. He keeps dialing your phone but you aren't answering. "Pick up. Come on baby. Pick up." He begs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Pick the fucking phone up." He growls, grabbing his cell to try and call the house phone. It rings and rings and goes to the answering machine. He says your name, "pick up the phone. Kyle is trying to kill you. Please. Let me know you're okay." He pleads, knowing the message will be played in the hallway.

You hear the phone ring, the house silent around you. If you were actually a civilian, you might have thought the squeak of the floor was a figment of your imagination. The answering machine picks up, an antiquated thing that Dave enjoys, and you hear his voice coming through the speaker - telling you that Kyle is the one who is in the house to kill you. “Kyle?” You call out. “What are you doing here?”

Kyle sighs as his cover is blown, stepping into the bedroom to find you with the gun in your hand. “Come now baby. Don’t be mean. I’m just here to do my job, same as you what are. Put the gun down or Jackie is gonna make this messier than it needs to be.” The red dot appears on your chest and you curse. Kyle smirks, “York seems pretty pussy whipped by now. I get it. You aren’t worth losing $2 million though.” He tuts, aiming his gun at you.

Your brows shoot up, wondering who the fuck put a $2 million price on your head. “You sure that it wasn’t just Jackie pissed off she had to go back to sucking your dick? I’d be pissed if it were me” You ask, smirking slightly at the scowl on his face at your insults. You wonder where Dave is and hope that he comes home after this is done.

Kyle shakes his head, "you always have been a mouthy bitch. Made for sloppy blow jobs." He snorts and aims the gun at you. "Don't make this difficult for me, beautiful. Get down on your knees...won't be the first time you've done that with me." He smirks, flicking the safety on his gun as he waits for you to kneel.

“I’m good.” You quip, not willing to give in or try to beg for your life. “Have to hand it to you though, you played your role of a no balls pussy extremely well. Never would have taken you for an operative. Hopefully Jackie has the balls in your relationship.”

With a chuckle, Kyle knows you're going to make this difficult. "Jackie knows her place. I'm just a good actor. Your little beau, Dave, isn't so good. He's too...temperamental. I didn't realize he was an op too until he threatened to kill me. That was the look of a man who knows how to kill." Kyle snorts, "he wanted to murder me for fucking you. You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say that poor fucker is in love with you. He's gonna be mad when he comes home to find your brains splattered across the wall." Kyle lifts his gun, "smile like you used to baby." He coos, finger on the trigger.

You refuse to die in this fucking house tonight. The gun you had set down on a table is right beside the perfect cover. All you have to do is reach for it. Your eyes flicker to the window and then back to Kyle before you shake your head “Fuck-“ before you even say “you”, you are diving for the gun and safety.

**** 

The tires squeal as Dave pulls into the driveway, barely managing to cut the engine as he grabs his gun and rushes into the house, slamming the car door behind him. He yells your name as soon as he's inside, running around downstairs and his heart is pounding as he runs around the house, yelling your name. 

He stomps up the stairs, calling your name, gun aimed and ready until he nearly trips over Kyle's body. He sees you laying there, blood on the floor, and he panics. Surging forward to kneel beside you, he keeps his gun aimed at Kyle and he grabs you to pull you close. "Baby. Baby, are you okay? Please be okay." He begs, hating how you are limp in his arms. "Please sweetheart. Wake up." He begs, checking your pulse and he is relieved when he finds it, looking over at Kyle to see the bullet wound in his head and two in his chest. 

"Damn sweetheart. You got the bastard. Shit, I am proud of you." He murmurs until a bullet wizzes past his head. "Fuck!" He yells, pushing you behind the bed and he ducks, trying to avoid the bullets coming into the house through the window, the glass shattering.

“Dave?” You groan, head throbbing since you had slammed it against the dresser and nearly blacked out. “Dave! Jackie- she’s an assassin!” As soon as you realize that he is actually here. Opening your eyes, you look around frantically until you see him, crouched down next to you and looking furious. “They- I have a $2 million price on my head?” Kyle might have been lying but you don’t know, hand reaching for your own gun instinctively.

Dave has to stop Jackie, “stay here. Stay down.” He demands, carefully shifting out from the bed. Jackie must need to reload as the bullets stop for a moment and Dave takes that opportunity, rushes out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He sprints out of the back door, knowing Jackie will expect him to come from the front and he uses her confusion to find out where she is. He sees her on the second floor of their house next door and he wastes no time. She’s confused. He has to act. 

He practically jumps the white fence between the houses, running to the back door and shaking his head in relief when he finds it open. When he enters the house, he sprints, trying to find Jackie on the second floor. She hears him coming, prepared with gun in hand but Dave is too fucking angry to worry about her shooting him. He’s faster and stronger. When she shoots, it hits him in the shoulder but he doesn’t feel it, high in fury and adrenaline. He grabs her, pushing her to her knees and she struggles but he’s quick. Pulling his gun out, he shoots her in the head. “That’s for trying to kill my fucking wife, you bitch.” He hisses, glad he has his silencer still on from his op. Jackie slumps to the floor and Dave shoots her in the chest twice before he lowers the gun. 

He turns towards the open window, the sniper rifle still there and he quickly dismantles it, shoving it in the bag at the base of the window to take it home, a silencer on the rifle. Turns out, everyone still wanted to keep their cover despite the bloodshed. Dave glances down at Jackie one last time then makes his way back into the house. He will deal with the bodies later, come up with some story of a robbery gone wrong. For now, he’s desperate to see you. When he enters the house, he’s reminded that he got shot in the shoulder when you come barrelling towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Dave!” Relief pours through you, nearly knocking you off your feet when you see Dave. Blood on his jacket but he’s alive. Throwing yourself at him and sobbing his name, you only pull back when you hear him hiss and feel him flinch. “I- you’re shot, aren’t you?” You should be more professional, less emotional, but you can’t right now. All you could think about was Dave dying, Jackie taking him from you before you could admit to him how you feel. 

“Just hit me in the shoulder.” Dave grunts, wincing as you move your hand down to probe the wound. 

“I- we need to get the bullet out if it didn’t go through.” You murmur, needing to make sure he’s okay. 

Dave nods, letting you lead him into the kitchen now that the threat is eliminated. There’s no ambulances or police on the way. No one knows anything, peacefully unaware in their little suburban faux peace. Dave grunts as he sits down, relaxing for the first time since he got into his car and he looks up at you while you rush around, trying to find the medical kit you both kept in case of emergencies. It’s not like you could go to the ER with your injuries. Too many questions. 

When you set the bag down on the table, Dave reaches for your hand, stopping you from continuing with the medical shit. “I love you.” He blurts out, the words feeling foreign on his tongue but he couldn’t stop them even if he tried.

You swallow harshly and you know that there is a tremble to your chin as you stare into his eyes. “I moved your stuff into the master bedroom closet.” You tell him. “I- I was planning on surprising you, asking you if you wanted to- to make the marriage real.” You exhale and manage to send him a small smile even though you are rattled. “I love you too and there’s something else you need to know.” Dave’s grip on your hand tightens slightly and he frowns, but you need to get this out. “I haven’t slept with every man in the neighborhood.” You confess. “Kyle was the only one and he pursued me. I didn’t- I wasn’t looking for anyone to fuck here until then.” As much as Dave hated the idea of everyone in the neighborhood fucking you, you figured he deserved to know the truth. 

He inhales deeply, relieved and yet so angry that he didn’t kill Kyle that day in the hallway. He could’ve prevented all of this. “When that motherfucker called, I- I was furious and - and so fucking scared.” He admits, “I can’t believe you took him out with a fucking sniper on you.” He says in awe, letting go of your hand so he can grip your hips, pulling you closer. “I can’t lose you, sweetheart. I’ll kill every person in this damn town before I let anyone take you away from me.” He promises, pressing his face into your stomach as he breathes you in, uncaring of the pain in his shoulder now the adrenaline is wearing off.

You don’t care that there is blood on your fingers, Dave’s and probably Kyle’s, you hold him close and run your fingers through his hair. “I love you.” You whisper quietly. “I- I was hoping that if something happened, you wouldn’t be here and be safe.” It’s crazy, but you didn’t want Dave to die because of you. Somehow he has come to mean more to you than your own life and it surprises you. But then again, it doesn’t - knowing that Dave feels the same with his confession. 

Dave shakes his head against your stomach, “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I- I’d burn the world if anything happened to you.” He promises, kissing your stomach. “Baby, let’s get the bullet out.” He says, pulling back and hissing at the pain. He wants it out and bandaged.

Cutting his ruined shirt off, you play doctor with Dave. Concentrating carefully as you clean the wound and use a small pair of forceps to dig around in his shoulder for the bullet. Murmuring to him softly when he hisses a curse. Knowing that he needs to have it out and can’t really take much in the way of painkillers so he doesn’t bleed more than he already is. Finally, you pull it out and drop it into a small cup so you can start to sew the wound closed in order to bandage it.

“Fucker.” He hisses, “can’t believe that bitch caught me. We need to clean up the house, make it look like they abandoned it.” Dave says, “get rid of the bodies. Make it as clean as possible. I’m not ready to move.” He winces when you clean him up and start to stitch up the wound. “Fuck.” He grits his teeth while you finish up.

“There’s a pit, about ten miles away.” You tell him as you finish sewing him closed. “It’s a mine shaft that flooded. Plenty of things in the water that will appreciate a fresh meal.” It’s harsh, but you know that there would be an investigation with the execution style deaths of the couple. It’s better to make it look like they disappeared. “Take their cards and give them to someone to use.” Setting the needle down, you smear the stitches in antibiotic ointment and cover it with a clean bandage. “All done.” You promise, caressing his cheek gently. 

He turns his head to kiss your palm, “thank you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, watching you as you put everything away, tossing the used needle and things you used. “Come here.” He says, reaching for you to pull you into his lap. “I love you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours in a display of affection that seems to be reserved for only you.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur quietly, knowing this is your fault. If you hadn’t started sleeping with Kyle, this might not have happened. “This is my fault. I- do you think he was telling the truth? Is there a bounty on my head?” You don’t want to put Dave at risk if he wasn’t lying to you. You won’t make him live with a target on his head.

Dave bites his lip, pondering what you said. He has contacts who can confirm if there’s a price on your head. “He wouldn’t have done what he did if there wasn’t a price, baby. I’ll call my contacts tonight, find out if it’s true and if it is, we will move. Get new identification. I promise you, I’ll keep you safe.” He vows, kissing your cheek. “I can’t believe you killed Kyle with a red dot on your chest. That - that’s fucking sexy.” He chuckles, running his hand down your back.

You can tell that Dave is moving past the idea of there being a contract out on you, his hands sliding down to caress your ass through the leggings that you were wearing during your closet organization. “Yeah?” You smirk and make sure that you don’t touch that shoulder when you shuffle closer and start to straddle him in the kitchen chair. “You like that? Like that your wife is a killer too?” 

“You know I do.” He rasps, not wanting to play games. “I need you, sweetheart.” He admits and he leans in to kiss your jaw, “I want you.” He continues kissing along your jaw, “I love you.” He brushes his lips against yours, “I want to feel you.” He finishes before pressing his lips to yours, his hand squeezing your ass to rock you on his hardening cock.

“Don’t move.” You warn him, not wanting him to rip his stitches open on the arm that is curled against his chest. “I’ll do all the work.” You want him as much as he wants you and with one last kiss to his lips, you slide off his lap so you can strip down. Smirking as he watches you pull off your shirt, no bra underneath and then push you leggings off. Kneeling down, you bite your lip, working his belt open. “My brave husband, coming to save me.” You coo, reaching in and pulling his cock out. Wanting to make him feel good for putting his life at risk for you. Leaning in, you don’t waste time, sliding him deep into your mouth. 

“Oh shit.” Dave hisses, head tilting back as you take him deep into your mouth. “Baby. You- you don’t have to-” He feels so differently from that first night you sucked his cock. He doesn’t want you to do this, especially since you hit your head. He wants to feel you, to connect with you. When you hollow your cheeks, his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Shit. I- I - I want to be inside of you.”

Pulling off of him with a pop, you don’t tease him for how whiny he sounds because you know you are just as desperate. Instead, you climb back to your feet and straddle his thighs again. “I want you inside me too.” You moan, reaching between you so that you can place his cock against your entrance. When you feel the head pressing against you, you make eye contact with him as you start to sink down on his length. 

He doesn’t say a word as you sink down onto his cock, his mouth open slightly as he watches your micro expressions, falling in love with the way your brow furrows as your ass settles on his thighs. “Jesus, you’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, reaching up to cup your cheek with his hand, leaning in to kiss you.

You don’t hold anything back from the kiss. Opening up and letting him deepen it eagerly while you grind onto his lap, making sure that you are nice and open for him. You love the way his cock curves up inside you and the head butts up against your cervix. “I love you.” You breathe into his mouth when his tongue pulls back. “I love you, hubby.” 

“Love you too, wifey.” He chuckles breathlessly, kissing down your neck and his hand on his injured side grips your hip, making him hiss but he ignores the pain. He’s had worse. He loves how you grind down onto his cock, barely lifting up an inch. “No one's gonna separate us. I’ll kill anyone who tries.” He promises between kissing along your chest until he is taking your nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck Dave.” You gasp out, leaning back so that he can suckle harder. Your fingers tangle into his hair and you whimper when his teeth bite down gently. “Oh fuck, I love you.” You pant, closing your eyes and start to roll your hips a little harder on his cock as you get used to the angle. “It- it’s so sexy that you will do that.” 

“I’d do anything for you. Anything.” He promises, kissing over to your other tit and he groans into your flesh when you start to ride him a little faster. “That’s it baby. Take what you need.” He growls, biting down on your nipple before he sucks it, soothing the marks from his teeth.

You love how he always insists that you take what you need from him. Far different from the first, rage fueled fuck you had when he had discovered you were sleeping with Kyle. Every time turning into something deeper and more meaningful until you were right here. Your cunt clenches around him and you swivel your hips like you know he likes. You are going to get yours, but you also want him to enjoy this. 

Your moans and his grunts are the only noise in the kitchen combined with your skin slapping against his when you pick up the pace. “Come on baby, cum for me. My beautiful wife. Mine. No one's gonna take you away from me. I’ll fucking kill them if they try. I love you. Cum for me.” He pleads, his cock twitching inside of you as his emotions threaten to overwhelm him for the first time in his life.

You whimper, holding him tighter and feeling your entire body start to tighten up. It only takes a few more bounces on his cock before you are cumming, crying out his name and soaking his cock with your juices. Breathlessly panting as you feel him start to take over, chasing his own release. “I love you, I love you.” You promise him. “Fill me up baby.” 

He pants as you grip his cock, soaking him with your cum and he hisses when you continue bouncing despite your body shaking against his. His arm wraps around you to help you rock on his cock and he lets out a low groan when he cums, cock throbbing against he spills inside of you. “Shit.” He hisses and buries his face in your neck.

The feeling of Dave filling you up is amazing. Holding him close while he paints your walls, humming softly at the closeness, the love in the moment. “God I love you, Dave.” You whimper, turning and kissing his shoulder gently. 

Dave sighs, breathing you in. “Love you too sweetheart.” He murmurs, just pleased to have you in his arms. He’d take another bullet if it meant you being safe. “Let’s clean up and go deal with the bodies. It’s nearly midnight. We don’t want anyone walking out to ask what we are doing. We need to get their phones and cards too.” He is already transitioning into the killer again, methodical and precise. He won’t risk your life together.

“Yes sir.” You huff playfully, stealing one last kiss before you pull off his cock with a small groan and move to get your leggings and shirt. All of it will have to be burned anyway so you put it back on. “We’ll get everything taken care of.” You promise, relieved that he is home and both of you survived this. It could have ended very differently. 

**** 

Dave stands beside you while you watch the bodies sink, his arm around your waist as he pulls you close. There’s no one around and he takes a moment to just be beside you. He turns towards you after a few seconds, his gloves shoved into his pocket as he cups your cheeks, “I love you. We are in this together from now on.” He tells you, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. 

“Together.” You echo and Dave pecks your lips softly. This marriage was supposed to be a cover but Dave wouldn’t change it for the world. You are his wife and he will do anything to protect you. Even if it means murder. 

“Come on, let’s go home.” He says after a moment. 

“Home.” You nod, taking his hand so he can help you up the hill to his car. “So I was thinking we might need a baby to add to our cover…” You say as you get into the car. 

Dave stares at you in surprise, “a baby?” You nod, biting your lip, nervous for his answer. Dave sighs, pulling away from the curb after reaching for your hand. “Guess that means I’ll have two people I’ll kill for.” His answer sounds annoyed but you know Dave, a grin appearing on your face. A suburban life sounded like a nightmare at first to Dave but now it’s become his dream come true.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york x reader #dave york smut #dave york imagine #dave york fanfiction #dave york equalizer 2

[esther-dot]

The Copper Queen 110k @jrojoyce

Is it possible to find love in such an inhospitable place? If you do find it, can it survive against both man and nature? Fresh from their discharge from the army, Jon Snow and his friend, Samwell Tarly, arrive in the small mining town of Copper Canyon, Arizona in hopes of building their future. Unbeknownst to Sam, Jon has picked this location for a specific personal reason. Will his choice lead them to a bright future or will their future evaporate like water in the desert? Sansa Stark had lived in Copper Canyon for over half her life. She and her sister, Arya, are all that remain of their once large family. In the old west rumor and gossip can quickly become legend. And if you believe the legends of Copper Canyon, than you know the Starks carry a curse. A curse placed on them by a man who still styles himself as their friend and protector. Will a chance meeting with the town's newest arrival be enough to break that curse?

Four Brides for One Jon 1k by @thefairfleming

It’s the flowers that do it. For the past hour, Sansa had been sitting in the stagecoach, trying to maintain some semblance of calm in the face of what appears to be an utter disaster. All four of them in this coach, four women taking a chance on a new life with a complete stranger, and it turns out they’ve all been summoned by the same stranger.

There's a feeling in your eyes (the shadows can't erase) 7k, incomplete

Following the sensational and mysterious deaths of her family, Sansa Stark marries her cousin, Jon Snow, a newly appointed Sheriff in the wild country of the Arizona Territory.

Ivory & Lace 68k by @vivilove-jonsa

Jon Snow was a loner and the townsfolk all agreed he was a dangerous man. Sansa Stark has been sent out West to marry Ramsay Bolton, a man she's never met. When Sansa and Jon meet in town, the attraction is immediate despite the obstacle of a fiancé in the way.

Leather & Lace 134k by @vivilove-jonsa

After her husband had died of consumption last year, many in town had doubted that a young woman of twenty could keep things afloat but Sansa Stark Tyrell is no ordinary young woman and she's determined to keep her ranch and to keep her newfound family together. But a ranch the size of the Golden Rose needed more than one old man, two green boys, three young women and a baby to keep it thriving. They needed at least one man in his prime. “A man in his prime for the ranch and a man in his prime in your bed,” Mya had teased when she’d spoke of hiring someone. She’d smothered a giggle and told Mya to hush up when she’d said it but something low in her belly tightened at the memory.

Deep in the Heart of a Lone Star Lady 11k

Sansa Stark finds herself running a cattle ranch in Texas in the 1800's but profits dip lower and lower each year. Just when she thinks she is on the verge of losing everything, the new ranch hand Jon Snow walks into her life and gives her so much more to live for.

An Outlaw and His Prize 1k by @framboise-fics

“Do you know what you’ve done?” she says, scathingly, her voice poised as ever even though he remembers the fear in her eyes when he burst in through the window of the room where Baelish was keeping her, even though her fingers clutch tightly to his coat where she sits sidesaddle on the horse before him.

Go West, Jon Snow 107k by @kittykatknits

The year is 1852. Jon Snow is ready to begin a new life in the Oregon Territory. To do so, he will travel via wagon train through one of the famous trails in the Old West. But, first, Jon needs to find himself a wife.

Seven Snow Brothers and Their Wives 6k WIP by @kittykatknits

Seven brothers, all backwoods mountain men, decide they need a woman's help with the cooking and other chores. Only, it turns out finding a wife isn't as easy as it seems. Soon enough, with some help from Sansa, it's time for them to go courting. And if that doesn't work, then they can always ride into town and steal their brides, like those Sobbin' Women they heard about. Maybe this way they'll be able to find the girl for them? And maybe even have a wedding or seven?

Desert Snow 10k by @tinywriter2018

Jon snow owns a ranch while Sansa helps run the family clothing store. Many rumors are going around about the mysterious rancher who mostly comes to town when he has to.

mountain man drabble by @charmtion

Season by season, the way he’d lived up till meeting her. But now he lives to drown, draws breath just so he can lose it in the depths of her eyes, the honey of her smile, the salt of her on his tongue, the sound of her some church-song in his ears.

Cathouse ficlets 1, 2, 3 by @justadram

Sansa’s only been working in Baelish’s cathouse for a week to pay off the debt she incurred from being brought out here to escape her bastard of a fiancé, when Mya comes to her and announces in that brash voice of hers that there’s a shy gentleman downstairs looking for a girl with red hair.

Gifset by @thewindsofwolves -- Gifset by @theirwinterfell -- Gifset by @dcbicki

PRE CANON - FAIRYTALES - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON

#jonsa #jonsa fic #western au #dot fic list

[sotwk]

hi! in the spirit of showing oc love, I was wondering if there's a particular oc you're looking forward to introducing to people in upcoming projects?

I'm tripping over myself to answer this Ask! (Thank you thank you thank you, Ace!)

May I please introduce two?

I've been shy about sharing these because they're not only Silmarillion OCs (I'm still intimidated by the Silm fandom, even though I have many lovely Mutuals from there, you included), they're OC WIVES of Silm Canons. Two of the most popular Silm canons. I'm pretty sure OC creators have been flogged for that.

But since you asked... onward with SotWK AU reveals and spoilers! The stories are tragic because that's the First Age for you!

Velcálë Vanandur

Wife of Maglor and grandmother of Elvenqueen Maereth (wife of Thranduil)

SotWK Fancast: Zendaya Coleman as Velcálë

Her name means "flame doer" in Quenya.

Velcálë had one child with Maglor, a daughter named Laurinwen, who was born and grew up in Tirion.

She was a Noldorin apprentice who served directly under Vána, and was thus given the prestigious epithet "Vanandur" (Servant of Vána).

She was a great tender of gardens, and her songs could cause plants to immediately flower or bear fruit.

Only out of love and devotion to Maglor did she decide to follow the Fëanorians in Exile, taking their daughter with them.

Velcálë was greatly affected by the violence of her kin and constantly homesick for Valinor. A lover of light and warmth, she suffered in the harsh lands where her family dwelt.

The toll of her heartbreak muted the strength and power she possessed in Valimar to nearly nothing, although she did her best to help sustain their people by cultivating the lands for limited-scale food production.

Because she tried to hold Maglor back from "necessary" violence and constantly made him question his commitment to the Oath, she was disliked by all of her brothers-in-law, except for Maedhros.

Velcálë was eventually slain in the battle of Dagor Bragollach when Himlad fell, leading to a permanent estrangement between Maglor and his daughter, Laurinwen.

Elemírë

Wife of Glorfindel and twin sister of Elenwë (wife of Turgon) 

SotWK Fancast: Vanessa Kirby as Elemírë

Elemírë had a fierce warrior’s spirit, but violence of any kind was considered unbecoming by her family.

She joined the Exile because she did not want to be separated from her sister Elenwë, a gentle spirit whom she always sought to protect.

She was loved by her childhood friend, Glorfindel. Although she reciprocated his feelings, he was the more passionate and demonstrative one. Elemírë factored in Glorfindel's own decision to (reluctantly) join the Exile.

Elemírë nearly died trying to dive under the Grinding Ice to save her sister, but she was held back by Glorfindel. This embittered her heart towards him. Instead of following Turgon to Vinyamar (and eventually Gondolin), she decided to join Fingon’s people. 

Over the course of the decades, she grew into a skilled cavalry rider, and was accepted into the ranks of Fingon. She became devoted to Fingon for personally mentoring and training her. 

During the Long Peace, Glorfindel (who had missed and yearned for Elemírë all those years), sought permission from Turgon to leave Gondolin so he could seek her out.

He came to Hithlum reaffirming his love for her and seeking her hand in marriage. Elemírë would not say yes, but could not bring herself to refuse him either. Glorfindel committed to staying for as long as needed to convince her, and this courtship lasted for nearly half a century.

Eventually, Fingon himself encouraged Elemírë to realize and follow her true desires for peace and love. She betrothed herself to Glorfindel and returned to Gondolin with him.

The couple married and bore one child, a son named Ingwil.

As the Lady of the House of the Golden Flower, Elemírë was also one of its fiercest warriors. She fought alongside her husband for the first time in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

Elemírë died during the Fall of Gondolin, rescuing her son from an attacking fire drake, which she successfully slayed before perishing.

Thank you again for the ask @hobbitwrangler, and for encouraging my foray into the Silm fandom. I hope you (and anyone reading this) enjoy learning about these OC ladies! Maybe with the right amount of courage, time, and motivation, I may someday even write some actual one-shots including them!

For more SotWK AU headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Elves HC Tag List: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @acornsandoaktrees @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @auttumnsayshi @blueberryrock @conversacomsmaug @elan-ho-detto-elan-15 @entishramblings @glassgulls @heilith @heranintomyknife23times @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @lathalea @quickslvxrr @spacecluster @stormchaser819 @talkdifferently6 @tamryniel @tamurilofrivendell

Special Moots who might be interested tag: @emmanuellececchi @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @scyllas-revenge @g-m-kaye @quillofspirit

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Fanfiction Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

#sotwk answers #ace reporter hobbitwrangler #sotwk oc #sotwk headcanon #glorfindel #maglor #silmarillion #tolkien #sotwk fancast #lord of the rings #maglor headcanon #maglor x oc #glorfindel headcanon #glorfindel x oc #the silmarillion #sotwk oc: elemire #sotwk oc: velcale #sotwk oc: maereth

[firebird04]

Good Omens 3: Plot Prediction

(Based on Special Spoilers)

🐖 👮‍♂️ 🐇 💎 🐐 🎩 🦍

Neil has been a little careless when it comes to revealing information about season 3 of Good Omens. He has posted various snippets of information that have led me to predict the entire plot of the season...

So, without further ado, let's find out what amusing scrapes Dottie and Sadie will get up to this season.

The first episode opens in the pie factory Crowley and Aziraphale are working in. A pie-eating competition is taking place. Crowley takes part in the competition but tragically eats too many pies and dies. Aziraphale falls in a hole. (Neil has also mentioned that Crowley falls into a hole at some point, though he is presumably dead or dying at this stage). Both of them are eaten by space-time goats. (Are they also in the hole? Is it perhaps a wormhole or a black hole?).

Episode 1

The rest of the episode is a flashback explaining the events leading up to Aziraphale and Crowley's deaths, beginning with the double wedding of Aziraphale & Dottie and Crowley & Sadie. The husbands are nervous, and the brides are "taking it in their stride".

Aziraphale's Best Pig is the turnip-eating Morris the Edumacated Pig (played by himself), and Crowley has a wedding ring made of turnip, after which "hilarity inevitably ensues".

The wedding is taking place in a chapel and is attended by people dressed as enormous rabbits who serve jam sandwiches. Crowley and Sadie make love passionately behind a screen for a large portion of the episode. Neil has stated that it will be "very artistic".

At some point during the episode Crowley gets turned into a deer, leading Aziraphale to ask everyone: "Where is my deer?". Crowley presumably gets transformed back to his ordinary self.

At one point, Dottie gets sent to get Aziraphale's tie and Sadie to get Crowleys glasses, both from Crowley's apartment. They both end up hiding in the closet, where they find George the Gorgeous Gorilla.

Later in the episode, the husbands and wives get divorced. Crowley and Sadie have had twins, so this is probably set some time after the wedding. The divorce goes smoothly except for the question of who gets custody of the twins. The wives start a thruple with Furfur in Barnsley, where they open a biscuit factory, while the husbands go to work in the pie factory, leading us back to the beginning.

Episodes 2 - 5

The main plot follows Sadie and Dottie, who (leaving Furfur to take care of the factory and the twins) decide to spend the unexpected insurance pay-out on a holiday in Majorca, but end up in a small Spanish town instead.

Their initial goal is to help a small, financially struggling, animal-run zoo to survive, for example by starting a boarding home for indigent chinchillas, but they also get involved in the affair of their husbands' deaths and start investigating.

Multiple events happen throughout the next few episodes, involving following characters:

• A bumbling town inspector with a moustache who helps investigate the husbands' murders

• A vicar who comes over to tea and loses his pants, after which Sadie and Dottie do the apology dance

• Roger the Goofy Postman, who is very loveable (he was created after a tumblr user hypnotised Neil to make him include "somebody to love" in Season 3)

• Ernie the Unfortunate Cocker Spaniel who gets kissed by Dottie and Sadie

• Garry the Gorgeous Gopher. He does not believe in good or bad, lipsynchs to early '70s pop hits and will be puppeteered by someone who wins a competition on tumblr

• Three little rabbits who go to a big city to open a sushi restaurant, discovering their family's involvement with the East-German secret police in the 1960s

• Some badgers training a choir of nightingales for the annual Barkeley Square Sing-off

• A wild young rock band on the run, who rob banks, fall in love, and raise llamas

• Mr. Whimble, whose magic hat gets stolen

• A chorus of choir boys who sing "Carmina Burana"

• The Chinchilla Army

• A person in a gorilla suit (more on him later)

• The Snaffler, possibly the most mysterious character. Neil has clearly stated that Aziraphale is the Snaffler, although he, of course, dies in the first episode. It is quite possible that he has been resurrected, which might explain his turn towards villainy. He wants to steal the Jet Jaguar diamond to power his world-destroying laser. The wives, the police officer, and the man in the gorilla suit stand between him and his goal. He may be working together with the rock band.

Neil has confirmed that episode 4 will centre around Sadie and Dottie listening to the black parade, eating chocolates, and crying. This will most likely offer a heartfelt insight into their grief for their dead husbands.

There will also be something called "the Herring incident."

Episode 6

Episode six will be the finale to the series, in which it is revealed who was behind Aziraphale and Crowley's deaths. It was the man in the gorilla suit, who turns out to be Crowley's nemesis, Dr Unmentionable. It is quite possible that he is also the gorilla who had been hiding in Crowley's closet in episode 1. He controls the space-time goats that ate the husbands, although it is not clear if he was involved with the pies. He eventually falls into a volcano, where he is eaten by lava sharks.

Dottie kisses someone in the gorilla suit, but Neil has stated that we never find out who. This presumably takes place at the end of the episode after Dr Unmentionable has been defeated. He has also clarified that the person in the suit is not Aziraphale.

All in all I think season 3 of Good Omens will deal with themes of loss and grief, exploring Dottie and Sadie's journeys in moving on in life, symbolised by Dottie choosing someone new in the end. It will be more artistic and revolutionary than previous seasons, while also including aspects of mystery to keep us engaged and plenty of humour to keep the tone from getting too dark.

Personally, I can't wait to see Dottie and Sadie's adventure on screen!

Feel free to add anything I might have overlooked and your own interpretations for how the episodes might play out.

#good omens #good omens s3 #good omens season 3 #go season 3 #crowley #aziraphale #dottie and sadie #special spoilers #neil gaiman

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Lost Souls Part 1｡⋆.

The Lost Princess Chapter 8

Jotun!Loki x plus size reader

With the discovery of who Loki really is, Y/N returns to the avengers determined to forget him, but things are never that simple

Warnings: violence, arranged marriage, angst, enhanced!reader, swearing, unhealthy relationship, age gap, some Steve x reader, Steve is an asshole in this chapter, making out, angst, depression, drugging, sickness, flashbacks, almost smut

WC: 3.9k

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was raining. Fat droplets of water splattered on the thick glass panes of the tower's windows, joining together and falling when their weight became too great. Dark clouds hung over the city like a curtain, concealing the light of the setting sun.

Y/N was alone in the sitting room, her eyes fixated upon the horizon, waiting. The mug of tea cupped in her hands had long-since gone cold but she didn't bother getting up to make a new one, instead she just sat patiently.

There was a flash of silver in the distance and FRIDAY chirped. “Arrival in two minutes ma'am.” Silently, Y/N rose to her feet and placed the mug to the side. She tugged down the sweater she was wearing, once again concealing her scarred skin.

The elevator hummed beneath her socked feet as she stepped inside. Without needed to be commanded, the doors shut and began to move upwards. Each floor that she passed, the elevator dinged.

By the 10th ding, she forced her body to relax, shoulders slumped down, her jaw unclenched. And when the doors opened once more to the empty landing pad, she was smiling brightly.

The wind picked up, sending the rain straight into her face but as the drops of water touched her skin, they evaporated away. The quinjet slowly came into landing, the wings folding with a series of mechanical hums, the engines shutting down as soon as the wheels touched the ground.

Her stomach churned as the plane opened up, revealing a lone figure. The blue of his uniform was dulled by the grey skies behind him and he was slightly dishevelled but he was fundamentally unchanged from when Y/N greeted him that morning.

As soon as his gaze was set upon her, Steve beamed. “Doll!” She knew he loved when she waited for him to return home, he said that it reminded him of the 40s when wives would wait on their husbands.

She braced herself as he ran at her, dropping his shield at her feet before wrapping her up in his arms. Her smile faltered just for a second as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I love coming home to you.” He muttered into her skin, his lips grazing her pulse point.

She didn't answer with words, instead she hugged him even tighter, pretending that what she was supposed to be feeling in the arms of the man who loved her was real. Steve rewarded her with a kiss to her throat before he pulled away. “How about I go shower and then we can have some dinner and cuddle.”

“That sounds perfect.” She cooed and cupped his square jaw, her thumb softly brushing the apple of his cheek. He dipped down and captured her lips in a soft kiss.

“Then let's go, doll.” Steve grabbed his shield and swung it onto the holster on his back. With a hand on the small of her back, he led her into the tower, wilfully ignoring the way that the light in her eyes dimmed.

She let him lead her, it was easier that way- she did not have to think about the months before, simply washing them away in his caring embrace.

Y/N could feel Wanda's eyes follow them as the pair walked past the kitchen and to Steve's room but she refused to waver, keeping her head high and her eyes on the ground.

It would be enough, it had to be enough.

The rain on Jotunheim was unlike anywhere else in the Nine Realms. The freezing temperatures froze the drops as they fell, turning them into crystal clear ice that shattered into millions of tiny pieces as soon as they struck the ground.

The sound had been jarring to Loki at first but after years, it was comforting. A drumming tempo played upon the windows of his isolated cabin, lulling the god into a peaceful trance as he read the same passage over and over again. Normally, he would have been finished with the entire book by now, and the one after that and the one after that but these were not normal circumstances.

He felt his mind failing him, crumbling before him but he had no motivation to even attempt to put it back together. There was truly no point since everything he had worked so hard for was destroyed.

His crown was gone, stripped from him by his father for being a traitor to his own kind. All of his comforts were taken away and burned save for his books and his wedding ring. It was not a sentimental nor a pitying action but a reminder, as his father had told him, of what he had done, of who he had hurt with his selfish actions.

The black metal had been enchanted to remain upon his finger no matter how hard he tried to take it off, not that he had ever even thought about removing it.

And her.

She ran. She was taken. She chose her brother. She didn't know everything.

He loathed her. He loved her.

With a heavy sigh, Loki shut his book. The gold lettering on the leather cover yet again reminding him of what he had so foolishly lost. “To sleep, perchance to dream.” He muttered softly, recalling Hamlet's own strife.

Loki rose to his feet, his body weak. “Perhaps I will dream of her.” The rain never stopped as his eyes slid shut, plunging him into peaceful nothingness.

“Do you ever dream about me?” Her voice was distant, wavering like TV static during a storm.

“Always. You consume my every thought little star.” She scoffed, looking back at him from over her shoulder. Her eyes were shrouded in shadow, her skin so much more dull than he remembered.

“That's bullshit.” She hissed. “It's been months since you last visited. I prayed to you everyday but you never bothered to show up until you wanted something from me.” He glanced down at the necklace in his hands, a promise he wished to form with her.

“I cannot always leave my home, they will get suspicious.” He attempted to make her understand. He stepped closer but she pulled even further away. A tear rolled down her full cheek.

“Yeah, I know.” She turned away from him, fixing her eyes to the growing storm clouds on the horizon. “I need to go home now.”

“Wait-”

“Goodbye Loki.”

The smell of coffee and bacon filled the small kitchen, providing a comforting warmth to Y/N as she stood over the stove, mindlessly cooking breakfast. Her dream was still so vivid in her mind.

It made her chest ache with betrayal and confusion. She had known him, or at least she thought she did, and he had turned into a monster. It was because of him that Hydra had taken her, because of him that she was tortured, because of him that she was forced into a marriage she didn't want that warped her own self view to the point where she couldn't even remember who she was before.

And yet, her heart still yearned for him.

She wanted to cry, to scream, to do something other than becoming some obedient girlfriend to another man who only loved the idea of her. But she did none of that, instead she kept her mouth firmly sewn shut and her hands busy.

“Well this is certainly a good morning, doll.” Strong arms wrapped around her thick waist as Steve laid his chin upon her shoulder. Her smile was soft but it didn't reach her eyes.

“I just wanted to surprise you.” She responded as she flipped the bacon. He squeezed her even tighter and kissed her temple.

“Mmm you spoil me. Maybe tonight, I can spoil you too.” His lips travelled downwards, causing her to sigh as he reached her neck. His palm spread open along her soft stomach and pushed her body further into his own, allowing her to feel his hardening length against her back. “I'll grab some wine and dinner stuff when I finish my run and you can be my dessert.”

Y/N internally cringed but quickly tamped that feeling down. “I would love that Stevie.” She purred, intentionally rocking back into his cock. Steve hissed into her skin, laying one more sloppy kiss to her throat before he pulled himself away from her reluctantly.

“Tease.” He snipped and with a parting squeeze to her hips, he left the kitchen, adjusting his sweatpants as he did.

There was a beat of blissful quiet and then another set of footsteps approached. “How long are you going to continue this?”

“What are you talking about?” She replied to the witch but didn't turn around, knowing that if she did, Y/N's will would crumble. The edges of the bacon curled, turning black as they burned but she didn't pull them off the fire.

Wanda's eyes stared into the back of her skull. “You can pretend all you want but it won't work, you will return to him.”

Anger flared inside her. “Wanda.” She warned, her voice dropping dangerously low. The steel pan handle began to bend in her hold, the metal starting to melt.

“You're bound to him, not just by marriage and the longer you reject that, the longer you and him will suffer. You're already suffering, how long has it been since you used your powers? You're either numb or angry all the time, you're killing yourself! But you can fix all of this, if you just-”

“Enough!” The pan was slammed back onto the stove, its contents now entirely charcoal, smoke steadily rising from it. Y/N snarled at her friend. “What I do or do not do is none of your fucking business and you certainly have no right to tell me to return to a man who blatantly manipulated me just for his own gain. And for once, I would like to make my own fucking decisions and have at least one person fucking support me- god knows my brother doesn't considering that he hasn't talked to me in a week. So either you be my friend or you leave me the fuck alone.”

Blinded by her rage, she stormed from the kitchen, not noticing the way that Wanda smiled knowingly at her, waving off the small cloud of smoke she left behind.

Loki's vision was blurred, coated with sleep that he couldn't quite wipe away. Taking in a laboured breath, the giant turned to lay on his back, easing the growing pain in his limbs.

It had been days since he last left his bed, letting his body and soul rot into the silk sheets he had stolen from the palace. He thought they still smelt of her but as the days continued, he knew that it was only his mind seeking some sort of false comfort as his body slowly began to fail.

Long blue fingers curled into the pillow beside his head as cold tears dripped down his cheeks. “My little star, I am so sorry.”

His eyes shut once more.

Y/N didn't mind Steve's bedroom, it was homey and a little old fashioned but he always kept the ac on and it was tucked away from the rest of the residential rooms so it was quiet. Without the super soldier there with her, she felt like she could breathe given how private it was. But that was not the case at that moment.

Still wound up, she stormed into his room, slamming open the door as he pulled his running bottoms on. “Take those off, you won't need 'em.” Steve easily obeyed, letting his hands drop in favour of grabbing at her, pulling her into a needy kiss.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm ready Steve.” She breathed against his lips and his eyelids fluttered as he let out a deep groan. His head dipped down in favour of lathering her neck with sloppy and uncoordinated kisses that sent the wrong kind of chill down her spine.

She would forget Loki, that's what she was ready for and if Steve could accomplish that, he deserved to take what he wanted.

“I can't believe this is actually happening.” Steve's voice vibrated through her skin as his hands clamped down onto her hips, keeping her in place against him. Her head was tilted back, eyes shut and lips parted with her soft breaths.

She couldn't believe it either but she wouldn't say that out loud, instead, she sank into his arms letting him feel the expanse of her body against his.

His hands slipped down to her ass, holding the flesh slightly too tight as he bit down on her neck. She winced but swallowed it down, happy enough for the distraction. That ache in her chest had yet to dissipate, in fact only becoming stronger with each passing moment.

“Steve.” She forced the moan from her throat, just barely biting back the name that constantly sat on the tip of her tongue. He responded with a roll of his hips.

She let his touch wander beneath her shirt. This was normal, it was expected. Boy meets girl, girl and boy get crushes on each other, they kiss, then they sleep together. That was the natural order but everything about this felt so wrong. All she could think about was him: about the mark that he left on her soul, the ring he had put on her finger, the promises he made to her.

Just as her doubts began to take priority on her mind, she was suddenly bare before the super soldier, her shirt dropped unceremoniously to the floor and everything stopped.

Steve's blue eyes went wide as he took in her naked torso but not out of lust. “What did he do to you?”

“It wasn't-” She tried to get out but was quickly cut off by Steve grabbing her hips in a vice-like grip but somehow not touching any part of her scar.

“That fucking monster, look what he's done to you.” He scoffed in disgust. “We'll make him pay, I promise. We- we can fix this, you can go back to normal, I promise.”

“Excuse me?” It took barely a flick of her wrist to push the man away, sending him sprawling onto the floor of his bedroom, his face now fixed with a look of bewilderment. “Fix me?”

The air began to shimmer around her as her anger once more made an appearance. The floorboards groaned as Steve rose to his feet, his stature was supposed to be imposing she thought but she could only see a boy attempting to throw his weight around.

“I can help you, I'll help you forget him and we can properly go back to the way things were.” His voice was so full of pity that it sounded disingenuous.

“Like getting rid of my powers?”

“Yes!” He said before he could stop himself.

Everything froze in that moment and for a second, Y/N found herself tempted to agree with him, to let him strip away everything that had happened to her over the past 7 months. But then, Steve spoke again.

“Don't you want that? We can be together, like we're supposed to.” He reached out for her but she flinched away, her hand automatically reaching for her necklace. His nostrils flared.

“This is what's best for you.” He snarled but it wasn't Steve's voice that echoed that same phrase in her mind.

The regret set in almost instantly from the moment she turned her back on Loki but he had broken her heart and her trust. The tears started as soon as she stepped through her front door.

“Oh my sweet girl.” She collapsed into her mother's arms, sobbing loudly and staining her shirt with hot tears. Her mother cooed, rocking her gently as she attempted to comfort her heartbroken daughter. She held her close, even as the storm closed in on their small home and the light of day gave way to the blackness of night.

It was only when she finally fell asleep, exhausted and burnt out, that her mother let her go, gently laying her on their small but plush couch to sleep away her tears.

Lightning flashed across the sky, lighting up the living room in a bright white. A huge clap of thunder startled her awake as it shook the house. Slowly, she sat up, rubbing at her sore eyes while attempting to get her bearings.

Her stomach turned with anxiety as she looked around the shadowy room, unable to make out any defined shapes in the darkness. “Hello?” She croaked out but nothing changed.

Just as she sighed and laid back down on the soft cushions beneath her, the room lit up once more, revealing a man standing in the corner by the window. Then darkness consumed them once more.

Frozen in fear, she could only stare, wide-eyed, at the place she saw the man, hoping that it was just some figment of her tired mind. The thunder that followed was more distant than before, a mere groan as opposed to the roar it had been only seconds before.

Then, lightning struck once more and the man was standing beside her head. He was tall and had all white hair but what caught her attention the most was a golden eyepatch that perfectly reflected the powerful storm outside.

Her jaw dropped, about to scream but a huge palm over her mouth forced her to remain silent, effectively muffling any sound she could make. “Stay silent child, this will be quick.”

With his free hand, he reached into a small bag that was tied to his hip and pulled out a small vial half-filled with a dark liquid. “You have become a nuisance, a distraction and I will not have you disrupt my plans.” The hand over her mouth then darted to her jaw, forcing her lips apart with a bruising force.

“You will forget him and he will forget you.” The liquid was vile as it touched her tongue and she attempted to squirm away but the teen was no match for this man and the foul concoction was forced down her throat.

As soon as the glass container was empty, he released her. She sagged back down, her eyelids suddenly weighing a tonne as the man stepped back, slipping back into the shadows. Her memories of the boy she loved, slipping through her fingers like sand, tumbling away into nothing. “You will thank me for this one day. This is what's best for you.”

Y/N stumbled back, her hands flying to cradle her head as if it could ease the painful migraine overwhelming her senses. The room spun and she struggled to catch her breath. Everything, she could remember everything.

“It wasn't his fault.” She whispered in shock. Her eyes fluttered open to meet Steve's gaze, pinning him in place with a glare. “I did this to myself. I had no control over my powers and I was foolish enough to literally play with fire with no one around to put me out. Loki saved me, not only from Hydra but from myself and he did it long before I even met you.”

“You have never once bothered to ask me what would make me feel better, only assuming that you were the solution to all my problems- that your love,” she hissed this last word, “could somehow cure me of who I've become. And I'm fucking sick of it. I've tried this my way- training and constantly forcing myself to relive my worst moments, I've done this your way- pressing all my emotions into a tiny little box so I'm just a doll that can be kept locked away for your enjoyment. Maybe it's time I try my husband's way. And that's right, Loki is my husband and will remain to be until the end of our days.”

“Y/N-” Steve tried to stop her but quickly retreated, the heat radiating from her skin far too hot for him to endure.

She scooped up her shirt and slipped it back on, the special fibres created by Tony withstanding the flames threatening to burst from her, and looked at the soldier with pity. “Thor told me that Loki was an oddity, a strange man but he was no monster. I should have listened to him, I should have told him to bring me back to Jotunheim the moment I found out who he really was but I didn't, instead I squeezed myself back into a roll I outgrew months ago. I regret that the most, that I turned my back on the one person who could possibly understand my pain. Hopefully, there's time to make this right.”

Her steps from his room were slow at first, shaky with her nerves but with each muffled thud of her bare feet meeting the floor, her confidence grew. Embers flew behind her as she began to run, gunning right for the front door.

FRIDAY chirped from somewhere behind her, yet she continued to run, her smile growing wider the closer she got to the outside.

“Stop!” Tony slid in front of the door, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. Y/N slid to a halt a metre away from him, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. “I can't let you go.” He practically begged.

“I have to.” But he shook his head. “Tony.”

“No. I cannot lose you again. I'll- I'll build you a huge building so you can destroy it, I'll engineer some kind of robot boyfriend that'll obey your every command, it worked with Wanda! Just please, don't go.” He sounded so tired, so worn down and unlike himself, it made her chest seize for a moment.

She stepped closer, the fire inside dulling enough that she could touch him without hurting him. “You have done so much for me Tony. You've become the grumpy father I never wanted and I don't think there's any way that I can repay you.”

“You could stay here.” She smiled sadly, placing a hand on his chest. The low hum of the arc reactor sent a soft vibration up her forearm.

“I need to know who I am and I can't do that here. I can't do that surrounded by people who only see me as that innocent assistant who could do no wrong. I know you may not like it, but Loki is my way back and I have to follow that path.”

Sighing heavily, Tony's shoulders sagged. “You know I hate admitting that other people are right.” He murmured.

“So I won't make you say it. But you need to trust me, I'll come back. I still need my healthy diet of burgers and trashy TV.” His breath hitched before he pulled her into a fierce hug and then quickly let her go, swallowing back his tears as best he could.

“If he so much as looks at you wrong-”

“I know, I know. He'll have me to deal with.” She smirked, making Tony beam.

“That's my girl.” He stepped aside, albeit with some hesitance, to let her pass. The doors opened to her and with one last look at the man she had come to see as a father, she ran outside.

“Heimdall! Take me to Loki!” The last thing Tony saw of her was her bright smile as the rainbow light enclosed around her body, taking her to a place he could not follow.

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[janksfatass]

Pt. 1

Warnings: Tumultuous marriage, nothing spicy… yet.

Word Count: 1700

F!Reader x OC, F!Reader x Jake

Plot: Reader is in a loveless marriage and attends a charity event at a mansion for her husband’s new job. She decides to explore and ends up meeting the owner of the home. He then takes her on his own tour. Was she getting in over her head?

“Y/n what the fuck are you doing? We were supposed to leave 10 minutes ago!”

You sit up from fastening your heel and take a deep breath before responding, “I’m coming down now!” You grab your clutch off the bed and take one last look in the mirror to preen and check for any imperfections.

Tonight was some sort of charity ball that your husband was invited to by his coworkers at a new consulting firm. You had met Steven in college and from the beginning your relationship was never built on passion or love but rather logic. He was smart, getting a degree in something admirable and not to mention easy on the eyes. After graduation you had the picture perfect wedding and bought a house with the proverbial white picket fence. That was a year ago. Now your days mostly consist of going running your boutique and coming home to make dinner (which you more often than not eat alone). Then winding down with a glass or two of wine and your trusty rose. Sex wasn’t really a component of your marriage anymore. With Steven’s long hours you hardly spent any time together at all and when you did it was mostly spent screaming at each other. This isn’t the life you had pictured for yourself at 25 but it is what it is.

You make your way down the steps and there is Steven waiting for you in his all black suit with a silver mask covering half of his face.

“Let’s go, we're already late.” He grabs your arm and practically drags you out to the car that’s been waiting on you. You wince at his touch, “Why is it so important that we’re exactly on time anyways? Isn’t it just a party?”

“It’s not just a party, it's THE party. Everyone important will be there and it’s a prime opportunity to network, you couldn’t possibly understand.”

“Ok then…” you climb into the car and place your clutch in your lap.

The ride there was uncomfortably silent but not unusual. Steven pulls onto a side road that leads up a mountain. The road begins as gravel and then becomes paved about halfway up. At the very top sits a large white brick mansion with black trim. The mass of a driveway is lined with Bentleys, McLarens and the like, meanwhile you’re sitting in a 5 year old Mercedes C class.

“Who’s house is this?” You ask.

“Don’t worry about it, come on.” He grabs your hand and leads you out of the car up to the double doors which are being guarded by a large bald man.

“Password?”

“Luna.” Steven replies in a semi hushed tone.

The man opens the doors and you both walk inside. You’re greeted by a massive foyer with a double staircase that looks like it belongs in a vampiric film. The interior of the home almost takes your breath away. Charcoal walls, black marble floors, silver accents adorning the room and crystal chandeliers half the size of your car hanging over your head.

Soft jazz is coming from a room nearby. You follow Steven to the ballroom where you see about 200 people. Some standing in groups talking and some gliding with one another across the floors.

You turn to Steven,“Can we get a drink?”

“You go ahead I’ll be over here.”

You roll your eyes and make your way to the bar. You greet the bartender, “Hi, can I get a glass of champagne please?” He acknowledges your order and you turn around to scope the room. Middle aged men and their too young wives. Decrepit Vanderbilt types that resemble walking corpses. The amount of money in this room could probably end poverty for the whole country. Doctors, lawyers, philanthropists, businessmen, and a few that you wouldn’t be shocked if they were involved with organized crime, all mingling amongst each other.

You finish your drink and spot your husband across the room and walk over to him. He continues his conversation as though you weren’t even there, not even taking a moment to introduce you. After 20 minutes of conversations about new businesses and architecture, you grow increasingly bored.

“If you’ll excuse me.” You give the group a polite smile and nod then go back into the foyer to ask the doorman where the bathroom is.

“Up the stairs, to the left and then it’s the first door on your right.”

You walk up the staircase and enter the bathroom. You’re immediately drawn to the giant mirror encased in an ornate frame of delicately carved flowers and foliage. Jesus this guy is ridiculous. As you sit, you look around and your mind starts to drift thinking about what kind of man would have a home this extravagant. ‘He probably has a trophy wife with big fake tits and a bbl. Maids and chefs to do all the work while she sits and looks pretty. What a fucking dream.’ You finish up and wash your hands. When you re enter the hallway you decide to explore a little. Steve won’t even notice you’re gone honestly.

You begin to peek into the rooms down the hall, noting the spacious bedrooms and also a theater room. What really grabs your attention is the study. You step into the room and the walls are top to bottom shelves filled with books. You notice a few familiar names, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, The Alchemist, etc. You walk around the desk and see out on the balcony there’s a small seating area and a large telescope pointed at the sky. You step outside and begin looking through it, searching for constellations.

“Lovely night isn’t it?” You jump at the raspy voice coming from behind you and quickly spin around.

“Y-yea it is. It’s very clear tonight. Not a cloud in the sky.” Your throat is dry as you eye up the man.

He’s small in stature but appears fairly sturdy nonetheless. The top half of his face is covered with a black mask but you can see a neatly trimmed mustache sitting above his heart shaped lips. His long hair pulled back into a bun. Very well dressed. Donning a gray suit. He has on black button down with what appears to be only the bottom two buttons secured, revealing a smooth chest that he’s decorated with a few necklaces that hold coin pendants. He has an Italian leather belt around his waist that matches the loafers on his feet.

“This is my second favorite room in my home. Especially on nights like tonight.”

“This house is YOURS?!” You choke out.

“You seem surprised. Why?”

“I guess I expected an old crusty bastard to live in something like this. Something so… over the top.”

“Well that’s one thing about me. I tend to have a habit of enjoying the more lavish things this life has to offer.” He takes a sip of what appears to be whiskey in his glass.

“I can see that… You said this is your second favorite room. What is your favorite?”

“I could tell you.. but I think I’d rather show you. Would you like a tour?” He asks and you notice he’s now returning the favor of eyeing you up and down. Seemingly taking a few extra moments on your curves and specifically the neckline of your dress that cuts just below your sternum.

He extends an arm towards you. You look down at his hand as you reach for it. The voice in your head is screaming at you. Telling you that you shouldn’t go with this stranger but there’s something about him. Something Alluring... Dangerous... Sinful even. ‘Fuck it.’ You place your hand in his and instantly electricity shoots through you. It feels as though you’ve just sealed a deal with the devil himself.

He walks you through the maze that is his home, showing you a billiard room with a bar, an indoor pool, his office space, numerous guest rooms and finally, the master bedroom. Each space was decorated in a way that you’ve come to realize is very on par with his personality. Dark and luxurious. His bedroom was no exception.

He lets go of your hand and snakes his arm around you with his hand resting on your lower back. His thumb gently strokes your exposed skin. He guides you through the doorway and flicks the light switch. The room illuminates in a red glow. In the center of the room sits a four post bed with an extravagant wrought iron headboard. You notice above the bed, there’s a circular mirror on the ceiling. ‘Strange.’

“Why is there a mirror up there?” You question innocently.

“Why do you think there’s a mirror up there?” He gives you a look that immediately connects the dots in your brain and you feel your cheeks begin to flush.

“Oh right... Naturally. Okay.” You feel your throat becoming dry once again.

“Well go on, take a look around.”

You follow his instructions and begin to explore the huge room. Another bookcase that reaches the ceiling. His closet could be another bedroom in itself, filled with designer suits and Italian shoes, silk ties and rows of shirts. The bathroom contains a freestanding tub that could probably hold 4 people and the shower about 8.

“Wow. This is absolutely…” You stop yourself as your eye catches an… elevator? You walk over to it and look at him. “Where does this go?”

“The basement.” He replies matter of factly.

“What’s down there?”

“Would you like to see?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Tell me what it is first. Is it like a dungeon or something?” You laugh.

“Well…”

Your laugh instantly ceases.

He smirks at you, watching the wheels begin to spin in your head. He can tell he’s piqued your curiosity.

“Well? Well what? Is it a dungeon or not?”

“Why don’t I show you and you can be the judge of that.”

You stop for a moment to think of what awaits you. “As long as you promise not to murder me.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

‘If I die, I die.’

He takes your hand again as the elevator dings and opens. The inside is wall to wall mirrors. You notice there’s only two buttons. One for his bedroom and one for wherever he’s taking you.

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader

[itbmojojoejo]

A Good Man | Introduction. Part 1

Pairing: Finan x Ealdorman's Daughter!Reader

Summary: An Ealdorman who struggles to control his youngest strong-willed daughter y/n is taken on as a lady-in-waiting to Lady Aethelflaed in the hopes she will learn what it means to be a dutiful noblewoman leading her to meet the charming Finan. (Set post S3 onwards.)

Warnings: SLOWBURN. Reader is said to have long hair, colour and texture not specified (it's the 9th century, it was the custom.) No other warnings at this time. If I've missed any please let me know!

Wordcount:2.4k

Part 2 | Other Works

Authors Notes: Fictional Ealdorman and Brother named after some random 9th century names i came across when doing the old research thing. Some creative liberties have been taken. Planning this to be a series, length hasn't been determined yet.

As there was little going on at the beginning of summer in Coccham Finan had decided to join Uhtred and Osferth on a short trip to Saltwic he claimed was to spend time with his daughter Stiorra who had been placed there, but was more than likely to also see Lady Aethelflaed. He was starting to regret this decision as he sat bored in the elegantly decorated estate listening to an Ealdorman pleading with the Lady to help him convince his daughter she cannot keep refusing a betrothal.

He came to her as she was a mother in a higher position of power and as he had recently lost his wife he was concerned with his daughters future and didn’t want to force her hand too harshly.

“I cannot think of any other solution than to send her to a nunnery an-”

“Is this something your daughter has expressed an interest in?”

“No not quite, when I told her she is to be betrothed she threatened to disgrace the family by uh, well, she said she would take herself to a, uh, whorehouse and let...I fear the rest of the language she used must of been picked up from her brother, my Lady.”

Leaning into Osferth with his brows raised in confusion Finan whispered,

“Is this a young girl or a woman he’s talkin’ about?”

“I doubt a young girl would be speaking of whorehouses Finan.”

“And where is Lady y/n now Lord Aelfric?” Aethelflaed asked

“She is in the chapel”

“Bring her to me, I wish to speak to her directly and hear her own reasoning.”

“Yes my Lady, I will go fetch her.”

Finan crossed his arms over his chest and fiddled with the cross hanging from his neck staring out of a nearby window watching the leaves blow in the light summer breeze waiting to see the identity of an apparently unruly noble girl.

“What will you do?” Uhtred quietly asked Aethelflaed

“I’ve watched her grow these past few years when she’s been brought to Aeglesburgh, she is very much her mothers daughter, intelligent and strong-willed, not easily shaken by men of power and isn’t fond of my husband either.”

“You already have a plan for her?” Uhtred followed up, she only responded with a knowing smile.

Finan instinctively directed his attention to the large wooden doors as they opened revealing a young woman walking beside, not behind the Lord Aelfric. Your head was held high in confidence with the front parts of your long hair pulled back in intricate braids keeping it away from your face as you approached Aethelflaed, barely acknowledging the presence of the three other men in the room.

You were beautiful in a modest long lilac tunic worn over a white full sleeved dress and he instantly understood the fear on your fathers face when he spoke of you threatening a life in a brothel, you’d certainly be popular.

“I’ve been informed you have refused to be betrothed Lady y/n, why?”

“My lady, it is an unsuitable match. The man is the same age if not older than my father and if the rumours of him mistreating his previous two wives are anything to go by I do not wish to be forced into an unhappy marriage that I am unlikely to survive.” Your voice was kind but strong as you continued.

“I know my father deems me disobedient and foolish but he has no reason to seek me a marriage based solely on his own ambitions as an Ealdorman, my brother is a commander in the Mercian Fyrd and has already produced multiple heirs for succession, and as for my sisters they were both pushed into political marriages that have not been kind to them, I do not want to share their fate.”

“And what is that you do wish?”

“To be wed to a good man. Preferably one more age appropriate.”

“Your want for love is childlike y/n.” The lord chided

“I have never spoken of love or implied that I would not honour my duty of being a faithful wife I know that is not a luxury I can have, I simply ask to be treated with respect and kindness especially if I am to be used as a pawn in the ambitions of men and their politics.” Your tone was harsher with your father, this was clearly an argument you’d had with him many times over.

Finan found himself nodding lightly internally agreeing with your reasons and commended your bravery for speaking out, he didn’t always understand why no care or thought was given to who these men would marry their daughters off too past the weight of their purses and amount of land owned.

“Your father is suggesting the life of a nun, but I can give you a place here by my side as a lady-in-waiting. It would mean you travelling with me to Aeglesburgh and to the court of Wessex and other such places, this means you would have a chance to meet noblemen in a monitored environment and help me to make a suitable betrothal when the time arises.” Aethelflaed offered

“You?” Lord Aelfric’s tone garnered a stern face from Uhtred

“Yes Lord Aelfric, as a lady-in-waiting y/n would be under my care as a member of my house, she will receive her own retainer too so would no longer need your financial support either.”

The lord shifted his weight onto his other foot glancing between his daughter and Aethelflaed weighing up the options, if she were to go to a nunnery it could spark rumours of disgrace and negatively impact his families reputation but her being present in court would do the opposite. He sighed with a shake of his head.

“Well I suppose she would be in the right place to learn a thing or two about obedience and duty. I will allow it, if that is what you choose y/n?”

This was the only moment of doubt Finan witnessed in you, dropping your head ever so slightly as your thumb rubbed against your forefinger.

“Think she’ll go for it?” Finan whispered to Osferth

“Be foolish not to, unless she wants to be a nun?” The monk responded

Clearing your throat and readjusting your posture you spoke again

“Thank you, Lady Aethelflaed. I would very much like to join you here.”

“Then the matter is settled, you can see your father out and I’ll have Sable arrange a room for you.”

Turning to escort your father off the estate your gaze fell on Finan for a short moment, he offered you a small smile still fiddling with the cross at his neck as he had watched the conversation unfold and you returned it quickly directing your eyes to the floor.

You’d heard of the fearless, talented warriors known as Uhtred’s pretty boys before and thought that maybe the women were just exaggerating, but now having seen the soft dark brown eyes paired with strong arms of one of them for yourself even if only briefly you had decided it certainly was not an exaggeration.

After Sable had shown you around your new home you were instructed to join the Lady and her guests for dinner where you would learn more about your new role as a lady-in-waiting. You’d been seated to the right hand side of Aethelflaed who was at the top of the table, Uhtred sat to her left with Osferth and your attention turned to Finan barrelling through the door. He was still in his sleeveless leather tunic exposing his arms in the summer heat.

“Ah go on you little tike! Sit down.” He playfully ruffled the hair of Stiorra who entered with him and sat himself besides you with a nod and a smile. Stifling the sudden nerves in your stomach you rubbed your thumbs against each other in your lap and turned to the Lady wanting to know what your new position would entail.

“Forgive me Lady, but I’m unclear of what will be expected of me now?”

“Think of the title as a formality, you won’t be given the duties of a maid. You’re more of a companion with the odd task here and there, consider it a reprieve.”

“A young lady given a bit of freedom? Sounds like trouble.” Finan jested leaning closer as he filled you a cup of ale and put it into your hand catching the scent of lavender.

Pressing your lips together fighting off a smile you hoped the low light in the room would hide the light heat you felt hit your cheeks at the small physical contact, being around men wasn’t new to you but them being so openly close was different.

As the evening went on you soon realised how relaxed things could be here in Saltwic compared to the court at Aeglesburgh and felt more comfortable to laugh and steal glances at the irishman to your side as he spoke to you and his friends with no reprimand from your father or brother about how a lady should behave in the company of men.

“I gotta know, did you really threaten to send yourself to a brothel?” Finan asked, angling towards you and leaning an elbow on the table, resting his head against his knuckles.

“I did.” You nodded with a light laugh

“But why?” You sucked in a breath at his simple question and regarded him for a moment, the burning candles bathed his features in a soft glow that made it seem as if his skin was radiating an inviting warmth that made you feel safe to be honest with him

“I refuse to lose my life at the hands of a husband. You see, I’d known my first betrothed since we were children and he was honourable, good natured, the marriage would of been a decent one. The second however is a cruel man, there are rumours he is the cause of his first wife dying, and an even worse rumour that his second wife condemned her own soul to hell just to be free of him. I needed to say something to get my father to hear me.”

“Mm, why didn’t you marry the first?” Finan had already guessed the answer from you using the past tense but wanted to be sure he wasn’t misunderstanding

“He died at the battle of Bedanford.” You matched his position, elbow on the table leaning your cheek against your palm. You wondered which battles had given him the scars on his arms and forehead and how this warrior could still look so gentle.

“I’m sorry” His voice was soft, and the look in his eyes showed it to be a sincere apology.

“It’s quite alright, I cannot say that I loved him as a wife would or should but he was a friend.”

“We were there at Bedanford, it was brutal but not one man backed down. He would of fought bravely.” He reassured you

“Thank you Finan.” You sat there holding a prolonged gaze with the man beside you and all the noise in the room seemed to fade away, a tension began to creep on you before snapping away and all the noise flooded back in hearing Stiorra laughing on the other side of the table at something Osferth had said to her.

You finished a second cup of ale before saying goodnight and heading to your room. As you stood in the small space illuminated by a single candle you undressed and got into your sleepwear lost in thought, you had always been aware there was a cold and distant atmosphere between the Lady Aethelflaed and her husband. Tonight you had witnessed how comfortably close she was with Uhtred but didn’t think any less of her if she was indeed sharing her bed with another man, you were secretly relieved at their bond if meant you could enjoy the company of Finan once more.

He was charming and seemed to be genuine, he spoke fondly of his time spent with his friends on their many adventures but hadn’t once mentioned a wife or lover and you couldn’t help the giddy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Finan was sharing quarters with Osferth and he found himself thinking of the way you had smiled at him with a light pink tint decorating your cheeks and the scent of lavender that emitted from you every time you had moved, he wondered if it was from your hair or skin.

“You need to be careful Finan, she’s the daughter of an Ealdorman. She isn’t for the likes of us.” Osferth spoke out quietly into the dark room, almost as if he could hear his thoughts.

“What are you talkin’ about?” He kept his tone confused, feigning ignorance.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Osferth was right, you weren’t for the likes of him. He wasn’t a nobleman, he didn’t have a title or lands or even wealth. He thought perhaps he was just being pulled in by the attention of a beautiful woman and it would fade away just as quickly as it had appeared.

When morning came around and he found you already sat having breakfast he opted to sit on the opposite side of the table thinking some distance would help ease the way his heart skipped a little when you had greeted him. He was wrong, he had to fight the urge to keep looking at you and could feel the gaze of Osferth beside him just watching.

You were relaxed taking your time with breakfast observing the way Finan sat staring at his plate occasionally flicking his eyes to you then to the monk at his side. Osferth shifted in his seat looking between you, Finan and his own plate causing you to suppress a giggle at the awkwardness, the silence in the room was getting too much.

“How did you both sleep?” You asked just to hear something

“Good yeah, thank you“ “Very well, thank you Lady“ they both spoke at once which was probably your fault for not directing the question at just one of them.

“How’s your new quarters?” Finan asked keeping his eyes downcast avoiding you and Osferth.

“Quite pleasant thank you. I have a window overlooking the herb garden, it’s much nicer than my previous view.”

No one responded and the room fell back into an uncomfortable silence, you rubbed your thumb against your finger willing someone to say anything when Aethelflaed entered the room.

“Good morning.” She chimed taking a seat and assessing the mood of the small group and dismissed it speaking again “Y/n, we’re leaving for Coccham today and will stay a night or two before heading onto Winchester.”

“Two ladies gracing Coccham with their presence at the same time? Lucky us.” Finan smiled looking between all of you. You barely caught the look that Osferth shot Finan trying to tame your own smile.

Part 2

End Notes: 'The word "tike" is an informal term that is used to refer to a small child or a young person, particularly in British English. It is not usually considered an insult or derogatory term, and can be used affectionately to refer to a child, much like the term "kid" in American English.' - FYI if its not a term you've heard or used before.

#finan x reader #finan fanfic #finan tlk #the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic

[fleurrypoet]

Hi can you write a few headcannons on how James Wilson would comfort reader if she’s just recently married to him and pregnant(she hasn’t told him yet) and she’s worried about his infidelity to other women affecting their relationship? Thank you 😊

This is a good one thanks for the request 🥰 hope you enjoy

If their already married I feel like the reader would have been different to James's other wives as from like the minute they started their relationship she would've told him that she did not want it ending how the the rest of James's marriages had ended. so like James would have reassured her multiple times that it wouldn't end up like the rest. This is why it does take them awhile to get to the marriage stage not because they don't love each other but because Wilson is afraid of messing it up and the reader is afraid of what it will end in.

though they do because they love each other and no doubt they have talked multiple times about children and it is clear that they both want kids. like all the reader has ever wanted was to be a mother and she can't wait to see James as a dad. though lets face it their both busy and recently married so I think they put it at the back of their minds figuring they will have the conversation again in a couple months or maybe a year.

though then the readers period is late like two months after their honeymoon and she puts all the symptoms such as sickness and fatigue all together and realises that she is pregnant. She is over the moon the one thing she has always dreamt of is coming true and it's happening with the man she loves. though then it washes over her the fear of James leaving, of him finding comfort and love in another woman and leaving the reader and baby alone. their is a big part of her that is telling her she is wrong and this is what James wants. But then the other part is referring her back to the fact that he cheated on his previous marriages ended in him cheating.

i feel like this goes on for days Wilson doesn't notice her pregnancy symptoms probably because they are masked by her pulling away from him which he can't understand why. she starts to spend longer hours at the hospital and going in before James so he basically hasn't really seen her in a couple days. considering the fact that James's third marriage ended in his wife cheating on him he starts to get a bit worried that maybe this is happening again. so it all boils down one night after dinner the reader has barely spoken all night and he just comes out and asks her if she's cheating on him.

the look of shock on her face tells James instantly that he was wrong and she's not but she's upset questioning why he would even suggest that she was the one cheating when he's the one prone to it. James explains why he though she was and it just led to her breaking down into tears realising that her being distant led to her husband questioning himself good enough for her.

so in the midst of it all she just tells him she's pregnant quickly followed by her spewing out what she'd been thinking about him leaving and cheating on her now that she is pregnant. James is overjoyed at the fact that he's going to be a dad but it pains him to think that his past mistakes have put his wife through all this stress so early in her pregnancy.

at his point all he can do is hug her and remind her that he loves her. then once the crying from both of them has subsided James leads her over to the couch and reassures her that he will never cheat on her. she half jokingly states that she will look awful when she's the size of a whale or when she's all tired from a crying baby keeping her up. though James reminds her again that he wants to be a dad and he loves her, stating that she wont look like a whale and he will also be tired from a crying baby but nothing will change the fact that he wants this and he wants her.

they both just end up spending the night on the couch as close to each other as they can planning their future and feeling relieved that the finally talked about what was bothering them.

#james wilson x reader #james wilson #rsl #robert sean leonard #dr james wilson #dr james wilson x reader #house md