#a week after the wedding and the honeymoon he spends an entire day to make sure they have his surname right

[pollyna]

A moment of silence for every time someone calls Maverick Mitchell and he corrects them because it's Kazansky-Mitchell now. And nothing can stand they way he smiles when they actually call him by his full surname.

(For a little while, after they get married, he goes new places where he has to introduce himself just to say my name is Pete Kazansky-Mitchell and I'm a Navy aviator.)

[manjiroscum]

PRIMROSES

Character/s: Pantalone

Warnings: f!reader, a bit of explicit sex, mature language, arranged marriage, hurt&comfort, light angst, fluff, modern au, this is a bit cheesy ngl, reader's father is a dick, pantalone has violet eyes, reader being anxious, pantalone is a banker, pantalone being a simp, mentions of unprotected sex, mention of the use of condoms, hints of pregnancy, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.

Note: been long since i wrote so i apologize if it isn't the best 🥹 this piece is dedicated to my lovely bby suki 💖

Synopsis: Your dearest husband got the scare of his life.

WC: 2.4k

Distance makes the heart grow fond but prolonged absence makes the heart forget.

The day Pantalone agreed to marry you despite it being an arranged endeavor was supposed to make a blushing bride feel over the moon. To recall that fateful meeting was akin to viewing a love story just about to unfold on a large screen, blissfully unaware of what was coming next no matter how obvious the foreshadowing is shown. All that occupied your mind that moment was the faint scent of primroses that wafted around the vicinity that was graced by his presence. The scent became stronger with each passing second, especially when you happened to flick off a piece of lint that dared to tarnish his impeccable suit. The mere act alone had Pantalone smiling down at you, causing your poor unsuspecting heart to do a flip.

“Thank you, my dear. I never saw that.”

He was cordial during the first meeting, smiling and casually complimenting you or nodding to your father’s flowery description of his beautiful daughter. The way his eyes followed your every move was enough to have you grow conscious of whatever you do but also made you aware of his interest in his soon-to-be wife. He was every man’s dream—rich, powerful, and unbothered by those who dared to challenge him. After all, who could compete with such a force that is Snezhnaya City’s most wealthy and influential banker? Mere humans can not compete with a demigod of the financial world, let alone those who wish to become like him when there is only one Pantalone in the whole universe who has beaten all odds thrown at him by life to reach the pedestal where he is now.

Nothing would make you happier than to have him fall head over heels for you just like you did with the way he carried himself during the entire evening.

“Is the caviar delicious?”

Pantalone’s lips curled up at your eager nod, unable to take his eyes off of you just like you couldn’t gaze away from the man. He was so patient in explaining things you would ask him, gentle in holding your hand to kiss it as a momentary goodbye. The promise of more encounters shone through his amethyst irises behind those glasses, capturing every fiber of your being to believe in him for he shall never disappoint.

“I hope to see you again, preferably sometime this week.”

A man such as he deserved nothing but the best of the best. To marry Pantalone would be second to reaching those pearly gates—everything to be handed to you on a gold platter and happiness will be served once one gold band is around your pretty ring finger. To be Pantalone’s wife… Such bliss indeed.

And yet, it was damn lonely. After all those months of preparations and making sure the wedding, including the wedding night, was perfect—Pantalone never had free time to spend with you again the second the honeymoon was all over. You have never foreseen the loneliness after all those insatiable fucking, overflowing words of endearment, and sipping champagne with him. Your friend was the occasional helper in the penthouse once the knots were tied. Missing Pantalone dearly wasn’t part of the agreement.

What happened to his vows in keeping you happy?

Your father was the first person you consulted with this sudden change in Pantalone’s demeanor. Yet, he hardly provided any advice or assistance or anything at all to explain the distance between you and your husband. For someone who arranged the marriage, you would’ve thought he’d lend you a hand and be sure the relationship wouldn’t go sour.

“Daughter, I think you shouldn’t be too… clingy, you know? Your husband needs some space from time to time. A man can’t run a business when his wife is hogging all of his time. Just don’t get all emotional. You tend to overreact…”

Frustrated, you slammed the door after walking out of your dad’s office. Hot angry tears threatened to drip down your warm cheeks at his statement. No wonder your mother left his sorry ass too soon.

You? Clingy? Overreacting?

Pantalone couldn’t even keep his hands off of you during the honeymoon period, even going far as to glare at the waiter who was making passes at you at that French restaurant. He tore the dress you wore that night with his bare hands while stamping hot kisses onto every skin his lips could touch. His fingers burying deep in your wet pussy he made possible so easily. The intoxicating smell of primrose and your shampoo mingled in your shared bedroom, with a mixture of sweat and fluids. His mouth claimed yours again and again just like his cock stretching your hole with each powerful thrust. Your husband burned through his stash of condoms meant for a month that night. You failed to recall how many times he came inside you, whispering his devotion directly into your ears while pounding you sore.

Pantalone valued your time like he valued his money. Those lips spoke of unattainable treasures he can buy, pledging he shall get them if you do ask. Yet, you never requested any material things. While you were grateful, it was his presence and his time you sought—far more valuable than any gold or jewel.

He found this far too amusing.

“Dearest, it somehow pains me that you don’t want this Birkin that will absolutely go well with that dress. Normally I would insist, but if you merely want to spend an evening alone with me, who am I to say no?”

It was his sturdy form keeping you from stumbling after too many drinks or the way he tucks back stray hairs from your face that made your soul fall harder. The quirk of his brow or the curve on his lips as he intently listens to you had your heart leaping in euphoria. This may have been an arranged marriage, however, it was better than you imagined. Pantalone may be the best husband there is…

A husband you rarely see anymore due to the drastic change in his behavior.

No matter how you tried to call him every day, you couldn’t help but hang on to his cryptic messages as responses or calls that last for a minute. The meals for two set on the table morphed slowly into one. His chair was often empty beside yours as you ate in silence. Traces of him being in the penthouse was rare, and even if he were to come home, only his warmth beside your side of the bed and the faint scent of primroses were all you could witness.

The ride down the elevator was uneventful as it can be. But your mind was racing faster than the cogs of the machine working to take you to the parking level. Pantalone consumed your thoughts even as you got into the Bentley Pantalone gifted you as a wedding gift. Sitting there and staring into space in the driver’s seat, you sighed.

Where did you go wrong?

You were quite sure everything was going so well between you two. Plus, you made sure not to do anything that will annoy him or anything. Pantalone was straightforward in telling you what ticked him off and what he found pleasant. He laid out his terms just as you did yours before you both agreed to marry one another.

So, what was keeping him so busy that he could barely see his wife, let alone be at home all the time?

Groaning, you leaned back against the seat and covered your face. You didn’t want to shed any tears, not in a parking lot where anyone can see. And frankly, you didn’t want to cry just because Pantalone hasn’t been paying you any attention. Oh god, perhaps you have gone too clingy. Too clingy that he has made his office his home and refuses to see you. For weeks, you have been sick with worry. Mornings, where you refuse to eat and even vomit the food you ate at dinner, were more frequent. To lose sleep over your husband’s absence was not the ideal way to go. But how can you lay in bed when Pantalone was out there doing god knows what?

No longer fighting back the tears, you nodded in defeat. Perhaps your father was right. Maybe you have gone too far as to cling to him in every moment you saw each other. Yeah, that’s probably why… You were quite sure of this, enough to go home and pack your things hastily into a suitcase. Hellbent on leaving him first before he can think of doing it. The rash decision fueled by your sorrows grew more rational with each minute that passed.

Because if he were seeing another woman, you were certain you would die on the spot—right there and then. You couldn’t bare to lose half of your soul when you just found it.

Pantalone, fortunately for him, came home to retrieve papers in his office just in time as you were about to wheel your suitcase out the front door. What appeared to be a normal day went crashing down instantly at the scene in front of the banker. A look of shock flashed in his features that you were sure you have never seen grace his face before. He was quick to compose himself, though, and approached you in confusion. You tried to hide your tear-streaked face, hoping the last image he will see of you is an epitome of immaculate and not someone about to get kicked out.

Yet, fate wouldn’t have it, eh?

“D-dearest, is there something wrong? Why have you packed your—what’s going on?” Despite the urgency and demand in his tone, Pantalone’s voice was shaky. Why on earth was his wife leaving him? Had he done anything wrong? Mind trying to come up with a memory or incident where he might’ve said something to offend you, Pantalone instantly shut the door and blocked it with his body when you moved past him. “Sweetheart, I won’t be able to understand or appease you if you wouldn’t tell me what’s bothering you.”

He watched as you swallowed, trying to avoid eye contact with him. Normally, this type of behavior would irritate him. But this was you. Pantalone would rather set his bank and possessions on fire than scare you away—the charming woman who genuinely enjoyed his company and listened to him rather than worm your way into his life for his money.

“I…I can’t do this anymore,” you responded with a hiccup from all the sobbing you did earlier. Pantalone’s mind haywire at your statement, unsure whether to hold you to keep you from running or to let you go. What could have possibly turned you this way? It wasn’t until your teary eyes met his that the realization of his constant absence sunk into him. “You’ve been… distant lately. I t-tired to reach out multiple times. I know you’re a busy man, but—” you cut yourself off to keep another sob from bubbling out.

Your trembling body was then encased by Pantalone’s, arms wrapping around you. The burst of his familiar scent of those damn flowers that always muddled your mind now cleared your thoughts. Instead of pushing him away, you found yourself crying in his arms, refusing to let go. Your husband sighed heavily, whispering his apologies and rubbing your back to soothe you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I am… aware that I’ve been away. I know my lack of reaching out shouldn’t be excused, but do know that whatever you think I am doing is false.” Cupping your face, Pantalone leaned down to kiss your eyelids and tears. He continued to press kisses around your face until you quieted down, still holding onto him. He resumed his explanation with a small smile. “I shouldn’t have left you all alone, especially when the plans I’ve been busy with concern our house. Will you forgive your stupid husband for his mistake, mhm? Please stop crying, dearest. I can’t bare to see you this sad. I know I truly messed up this time… I am willing to make things right.”

Blinking twice, you registered the information regarding his lack of presence. While you were glad he admitted his mistake, this was a reminder that even such an accomplished man like Pantalone was still human at the end of the day. And a house? For the family that you two will soon have? He thought of this relationship far ahead...

Is this man's mission to make you fall even harder?

“You did. You fuckin’ made me worry so much.”

“Language, sweetheart. You know I only want to hear you say filthy words when you’re underneath me,” he joked that your eyes rolling. Pantalone then fished out a handkerchief from his suit pocket, handing it to you. “Now, dry those tears. I’ll take you to see the progress of the construction tomorrow. We’ll have lunch at that restaurant you have been wanting to go to. How does that sound?”

You grabbed the handkerchief he gave you and blew into the expensive material, giggling at the grimace that he tried to mask.

“Okay. But I’ll forgive you, stupid husband, if you promise not to do this again and communicate. And if you will promise to keep the rest of your days free for me. I miss my stupid husband so much that I’ve forgotten how he feels next to me.” You coupled your statement with a soft teasing smile. Pantalone exhaled in relief and then nodded without hesitation, not minding what you called him.

“Of course, dearest. Anything you want.”

Humming in delight, you hugged him again. Those three words you always say slipped past your lips, relief both in your hearts. Pantalone whispered those words back, squeezing you tighter. The crisis has been averted, but simply letting him get away with this is not happening. He knows this.

“And one more thing, can we eat at a different restaurant? I’ve been craving sushi since last night.”

“Craving sushi?” His brow raised at your request, pulling away to stare at you. “But I thought you couldn’t stand raw food right now? You said so last time. Isn’t that the reason why you wanted to eat Italian dishes?”

While it was endearing that Pantalone remembered that phone call back when he was missing in action, you went still at the memory. Sharing a look with him, perhaps there was something more than simply missing him that was causing your mood to switch faster than a broken light switch.

🎐taglist: @dottores @manjirousagi @festive @tokyometronetwork @saetoru @saeshiraw @saecore

[veryberryjelly]

lookin' for something dumb to do

married at first strike - the wedding

jamie tartt x fem!reader | minimal use of y/n | 2.8k

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

A vision of white stared back at you in your reflection. 

For a long time you dreamed about this, but this was never the way you planned for it to go down. 

Initially you thought as a child that you would find someone you really loved, spend weeks planning your wedding with them and get married in a beautiful ceremony. 

You never imagined being surrounded by cameras for the entirety of your wedding day. Or that at the end of the isle would be a complete stranger. 

“You look beautiful, babe” you heard from behind you, turning your attention to the origin of the voice. 

Your friend, and bridesmaid, florence. 

Alice and your other bridesmaids were dressed up in a beautiful deep red that matched the colour on your nails and the colours dotted throughout your bouquet. 

“Thanks, flo.” you answered as you shook out your hands in hopes of getting rid of the wave of nerves wracking your body. 

She seemed to notice the nerves in your system as she approached you and took your hands in hers. “ it’s going to be okay, y/n. This guy has been chosen for you, and you’re awesome. Worst case scenario, you lose two weeks, one of which you’ll spend on a honeymoon. Best case scenario, you fall madly in love with this guy. “ 

Her words were more comforting than you anticipated, and your hands stilled in her own. 

Her take on it calmed your shaking. 

Before you had a chance to think anymore on it, a production assistant told you that it was time. 

Now or never. 

The walk to the car was short, and the drive seemed even shorter. You were less than ten minutes away from committing to someone you had never met. 

And that ten minutes went by very fast. 

Before you knew it your car pulled up the the venue and you were being led through to the beginning of what you hoped could be the rest of your life. 

Voices could be heard on the other side of the door, some light laughter from your friends and family calming your nerves.

It seemed the closest people in your life were getting along with whoever was stood at the altar waiting for you. 

You waited for a cue, which was given in the form of a hand on your back and the sound of the people on the other side of the door shuffling around. 

When the doors opened, everything faded. The nerves, the shaking hands. It all dissipated.

You had to put all of your trust in the matchmakers. 

And as you made your way down the aisle, you realised your trust was in the right place. 

The man who stood at the other end of the room had your smile widening past the limits of your face.

He was dressed impeccably, a simple black suit with a red tie that matched the entire wedding. 

As you neared the altar you were able to make out his face and he was absolutely gorgeous, his bone structure something that would make Michelangelo weep. 

Once you were stood in front of him you tried to manage your smile but it was very hard. 

But a smile mirroring your own appeared on your grooms face. 

“ hi “ you beamed

“ alright. ‘M jamie “ he replied, a thick Mancunian accent hanging off of his words. 

“ y/n “ 

“ you look beautiful y/n “ 

His words caused your cheeks to blush and you hid your face from his view momentarily before looking back up at him with a bashful grin. 

“ Thank you, jamie. You look very handsome “ 

Soft laughs bubbled from both of you as you heard some muttering from both sides of the guests. 

Everyone was cut off by the officiant you hadn’t clocked until now 

“ I am very happy to formally welcome you all here today as y/n and Jamie make the ultimate commitment to one another “ 

Her words had your hands shaking slightly as your gaze darted back to Jamie. 

You caught him looking back at you and a set of smiles broke out on your faces. 

“ Y/n, i now invite you to share your vows with Jamie “ 

A set of index cards was handed to you, the vows you had poured over lining the paper. 

After a deep breath you spoke up. 

“ Jamie, i’m sure this is not how either of us imagined finding someone to spend our lives with, but now that i’m here, i’m excited to go on this journey with you..No secrets here, I'll be awkward at first but once you get to know me I will do my best to give you lots of love and make every day more enjoyable than the last. a little about me, i’m a typical brit in that i am confident tea is better than coffee and i enjoy rain over sunshine. But you have better luck finding me in a bookshop than a pub. And i hope your strong because i’ll need help carrying the books home“ 

Quiet laughs came from your friends and when your eyes lifted from the paper you found Jamie chuckling too. 

“ The time I don't spend reading, i’m taking care of blythe. Even if she tries her best to read with me, I don't think dogs have that capability. “ another chuckle from jamie had your smile widening “ but don’t worry, i’m sure she’ll love you as long as you don’t hurt her mum or take her spot on the sofa “ 

“ wouldn’t dare “ he replies, a smirk beaming across his face

You handed your index cards back to the officiant and let out a shuddering breath as she handed an identical set of cards to jamie. 

“ Jamie, i now invite you to share your vows with y/n “ 

“ Y/n, First I want to thank you for taking a huge risk as we stand here together as complete strangers, placing our faith into the experts .i’m not perfect, but parts of me are pretty fucking awesome “ a laugh bubbled past your lips along with everyone else witnessing the two of you “ I want to assure you that I'm here for genuine reasons. The experiment and you are now my priority. I hope that no matter what the outcome, if we put our best foot forward and take care of one another then we can never lose."

How words brought a burning feeling to the spot behind your eyes. You didn’t think someone you just met could make you feel so assured in what you were doing. 

“ please place these rings on each others fingers as a sign of your commitment to each other and the experiment “ 

A hand was put out between the two of you holding two rings, both yours and Jamie's hands brushed as you collected the rings. 

Jamie took your hand in his first, sliding your ring onto your ring finger before you did the same to him. 

You couldn’t resist flashing your new ring to your side of the room with an excited smile.

When you were brought back to look at jamie he was spinning his ring around his finger, assuming he was getting used to wearing it. 

“ you may now seal this union with your first kiss “

Somehow you had forgotten about this part in your pre-wedding jitters, but almost instantly, you felt one of Jamie's hands rest on your waist while the other lifted to lightly rest on your cheek. 

His lips pressed onto yours in a soft and tender kiss that you truly weren’t expecting. 

With your wedding party being small, this all felt a million times more intimate. 

When you pulled back you could not wipe the smile off of your face as you took Jamie's hand in yours and walked back down the aisle with a grin prominent on your lips. 

You didn’t have much time to try and talk to Jamie before you were both pulled away for photos. 

Somehow poses that would be awkward with anyone seemed just flat out ridiculous as you two stood in front of the camera in undeniably romantic and cheesy poses

You knew for a fact that most of these photos would be the both of you laughing or recovering from a laughing fit. 

“ who’d’ve thought that romantic poses would be awkward for two people who’ve never met before “ 

Jamie’s words had another laugh bubbling past your lips. 

“ yeah, it’s like no one thought how uncomfortable it would be for two strangers to be pressed up against each other like this. “ 

Your arms were currently looped over Jamie's shoulders with his firmly around your waist while a photographer called instructions out at the two of you. 

There was not a hint of a gap between you as said photographer had continued to push the two of you closer and closer together. 

Thankfully, it didn’t last too long and the two of you were ushered towards your wedding reception. 

When the two of you walked in you were met with your families. 

What shocked you to see was everyone in the room integrating as if they weren’t two separate entities half an hour ago. 

Your friend Flo was talking to a short bubbly woman in pink and a gruff looking gentleman. 

Your parents talking with two people you could only assume to be Jamie's parents. 

Suddenly, this all became very real. You and Jamie weren’t the only people this union impacted. 

It impacted everyone in this room and that definitely scared you.

Once everyone realised the bride and groom had entered, the mood shifted and suddenly everyone’s eyes were on the pair of you. 

While 10 sets of eyes might not seem like a lot, when half of them were complete strangers who loved the man you were standing next to. 

His hand tugged at yours slightly which snapped you out of your fear riddled freeze. 

You followed Jamie to the table set up at the head of the room. Because of how little your wedding party was, there was only one table, made of four, that was ultimately a big square with a hole in the centre. 

Music played softly throughout the room, a song you weren't able to name but it was definitely a welcome addition to your wedding playlist. 

Everyone fell into a casual conversation, allowing yourself and jamie to actually get to know each other a bit. 

“ so, what do you do ?” you questioned, turning your body to face his slightly in anticipation of this conversation lasting a while. 

Something buffered in jamie’s head. 

You didn’t know who he was. He didn’t realise that could happen. He assumed that most people in england watched football and not to blow his own whistle, but he knew he was quite a big deal in the sport. 

“ i’m a personal trainer “ the lie seemed to slip off of his tongue quite naturally, and when your brows lifted in curiosity, he knew he had gotten away with it. But he decided to get the focus off himself. “ what about you ?” 

“ i’m a baker. I work in a cafe in london, but i’m in the process of buying my own place to open a bakery “ 

His brows lifted similarly to yours at the revelation of your job. “ seriously? That’s sick. ‘Ve you found a place yet ?” 

You shook your head in answer. 

“ no, i haven’t been able to find anywhere good. “ you had visited a bunch of different spaces, but none of them were both within your budget and looked nice. 

You were now thankful that you hadn’t found anywhere as you were truly invested in this experiment and finding love in the man sat next to you. 

Had you found somewhere, you wouldn’t have been able to enjoy this with that hanging over you, not to mention it would tie you to London, and based on jamie’s accent he didn’t live in london. 

“ where do you live ? “ you questioned, needing clarification on how far from you Jamie lived. 

“ richmond, but i was born in manchester “ 

In the grand scheme of things that truly wasn’t that far. 

90 minutes.

If it came down to it, you were not opposed to shifting your life 90 minutes. 

But that was a decision for future you. 

Current you was relishing in the feeling of warmth washing over you every time you caught a glimpse of jamie’s smile. 

The rest of your wedding day went by in a flurry of smiles, laughs and quick kisses between yourself and your new husband. 

As the day drew to a close and everyone grew tired, you found yourself sat outside of the venue with a drink in hand and a tuxedo jacket over your shoulders in an attempt to combat the cold english weather. 

You had wanted to have a private chat with jamie all day just to have a bit more of an intimate chat. You didn’t quite fancy discussing potentially heated and emotional stuff in front of everyone .

“ so i wanted to talk to you about a couple of things before we dive into this..” you began, turning your body a bit more towards where jamie sat beside you on the bench. 

He looked significantly more dishevelled than he had done at the beginning of the day. His tie loose around his neck, his top two buttons undone and his jacket over your shoulders. His hair a lot softer than it had been when you first saw him, the almond-y colours now fluffy and soft around his face. 

“ i’ve been single for 5 years, and that is mainly because i- the last guy i was with was horrible. I was with him for 3 years and by the end of it i was just a shell of myself. I was basically being gaslit for three years.” 

There was a brief silence between the two of you where you were sure you felt the mood shift completely. 

“ i am not going to put up with shit anymore. So i need to know that you’re here for the right reasons, because i do not want to waste anymore time with guys who aren’t serious about a relationship “

Jamie seemed to turn to stone across from you, as though you had spouted medusa’s snakes from your head. 

You were unsure if it was the confronting nature of your words or just a general buffering as he tried to think of what to say. 

But the silence between you was cut short when you felt jamie’s hand resting on the fabric of your dress over your knee. 

“ i’m here for you, to make this work. I’m not here to waste either of our time “ 

His words made your heart swell and you felt drawn to him, your face inching closer to his until your lips met delicately. 

Your hand appeared from underneath the fabric of jamie’s jacket to rest at the junction between his jaw and his neck. 

His hand moved up from your knee, through the slit of your dress to rest on your thigh. 

That was what caused you to pull away and drop your hand to rest on top of his. 

You stopped it crawling up any further as you shook your head. 

“ not happening “ you said simply, a slightly teasing smile on your lips. 

His brows furrowed softly as though your words baffled him. 

“ you’re fit, no doubt about that. But i met you six hours ago and we may be married but i’m not that kind of girl “ 

“ ‘course. Wasn’t planning to jump you right here. Got meself all caught up “ 

A soft laugh bubbled between the two of you in the quiet evening followed by a small shiver up your spine. 

“ let’s get ya back inside before ya freeze “ jamie suggested, standing from the bench the two of you had been perched on for the last couple of minutes. 

He offered his hand out to you to help you up and placed his hand on the small of your back on the walk inside. 

When you walked in, you found something that made your fingertips tingle. 

You found everyone you had invited to the wedding just dancing slowly in the empty space of the room. 

Your mum dancing with her boyfriend, jamie friends, who had been introduced to you as roy and keeley, swaying to the soft music flooding through the speakers around the room. 

But there was one couple that had caught your eye and caused this tingling feeling in your fingers. 

Florence and jamie’s friend Sam. 

It reminded you that this wasn't something that only impacted you and jamie. 

This would impact everyone around you. 

Whether it ended well or not, it would rock your support system. 

So if you decided that this was going to work on the outside, you were going to do everything in your power to make this the one that lasted.

taglist ;; @rexorangecounty @jamiebigbuttedtarttt @neenieweenieenie @drmeghanjonesnes @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @optimisticsandwichgladiator @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @flashyourgreeneyesatme @heyitz-juliaa @ace-lister @finnydraws @kaitlyn2907

[turvi]

What a Man

Severus Snape x Reader

You didn't mean to fall this deep in love. When you first saw Severus you thought this was going to turn out like another teenage crush where you could only enjoy the view and make scenarios of your wedding while you picked a wedding dress according to the personality of your crush and choose the children's names and move on as soon as you saw him holding hands with another girl and cry like he betrayed you.

No Severus was different, he surprised you in a good way. Before you saw Severus you heard of him. You heard he was cold, mean, and sarcastic. When you first met him you had the ill fortune of meeting him in his beloved class. Potions. He would keep rolling his eyes at your bad jokes and continue to ignore you and judge your potion-making skills.

Gradually with time Severus softened and was impressed with your potion-making skills and your ability to make bad jokes that made his dull life bright. You always liked Severus but never knew when you fell in love with him. One day you were just joking and making him laugh and the next thing you know you want to hold him and spend your life with him.

Lo and Behold you were Mrs. Snape as soon as you graduated. After spending a week on honeymoon your friends decided to treat you to lunch. Severus was at home making dinner. You entered the door calling out to your dear husband.

"Honey I am home"

"I'm in the kitchen" he responded. You walked towards the kitchen and the view in front of her was hot. Severus was making dinner, and he had tied his hair in a bun, he was wearing his white shirt with its first few buttons open giving you a view of his chest.

You took a deep breath and thought to yourself "dammit he gets hotter as he ages. What he eats children for breakfast?"

Severus smirked as he closed the lid on the pan. "No love, it's your loving that makes me look hot"

You rolled your eyes "you are reading my mind again Sev?"

"I couldn't help they are so loud. And you were practically drooling at my look so I am flattered really"

You got closer to him smirking and planted kisses all over his face. He groaned and switched off the gas.

"Why did you switch off the gas?"

"All of a sudden some other parts of my body need your attention," he said huskily and you yelped as he threw you over his shoulder. You giggled as he carried you to your shared bedroom.

As he laid you on the bed he was about to open his bun when you interrupted "no please let it stay, I like it"

He groaned and crawled on top of you "hmm, my darling wants a change in role? She wants to pull my hair?"

You only giggled. By now your mind was fuzzy because your husband keeps surprising you every day. You thanked your younger self every day for being so patient and loving to him because the Severus in front of you did not entirely change or heal but he is more loving and soft to you. And that is all that matters.

A/N: I don't know why I wrote this. Anyways REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED.

[scarletttries]

Kendall Roy x Reader Engagement/Wedding Headcanons:

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x Gender-neutral!Reader

Rating: Fluff with one slightly NSFW thought at the end clearly labelled.

Author’s Note: After my own lovely bachelorette party last weekend I got a request for wedding/engagement headcanons for Kendall Roy and couldn't resist! Thank you to everyone who wished me a lovely weekend for my Hen Do and for sending in so many amazing succession requests!! 😊

- From the minute he knew you were the one for him, Kendall would be mentally planning your wedding. It wouldn't matter that it would take him another year to actually propose, he'll live for meticulously planning every detail to make it the most memorable proposal and wedding in history, constantly be thinking of things he wanted for the two of you, scribbling down ideas in his notes app that he can't wait to share with you one day.

- The proposal would be so incredibly Kendall: there would be fireworks, and a stage, and he'd have prepared a musical number, and everything for the whole week would have been set up to lead you unawares to the moment he finally gets down on one knee and asks you to marry him. To be the other half he's always been missing. The loving family he never thought he could deserve. And when you, thank god, say yes; a hundred doves fly out behind you as glitter rains dow,n and it truly feels like something out of a movie or a fairytale, the staged photos front page of every paper in town that night.

- For the entire time you're engaged it's like Kendall's already in the honeymoon phase, his obsession with you is completely renewed. He's so enamoured he finds himself calling you into his office just so he can close the blinds and wrap his arms tightly around you, barely able to contain his grin as he leans down to kiss 'his fiance', a phrase he cannot stop uttering. He'll introduce you to people you've already met a dozen times just so he can say 'my fiance' about you again and again, cheeks aching from the smile that hasn't left his cheeks since you said yes.

- Now that you're engaged he'll also get even more ridiculous with gift giving; when Kendall first starts dating anyone he can be a little insecure that they're just with him for the money, so he holds back on being too generous until he knows their true feelings. But now, expect a bouquet of your favourite flowers every hour, on the hour, each with funny little notes Kendall writes imagining what your life will look like together. Not to mention he insists you both go shopping as 'you both need an entirely new wardrobe now that you're engaged.'

- There won't have been a lot of times you've been able to meet Sophie and Iverson while dating Kendall, so he'll be nervous about re-introducing you to them now that it's as his fiance. But he doesn't need to worry, Sophie is so smart and friendly she'll immediately start running through wedding planning ideas and suggesting you pick them up from school once a week so you can get to know the two of them better - she's seen how much better her father is doing since he found you and genuinely wants to keep you around as much as possible. Naturally Iverson is a lot more reserved, but you'll give him the space he needs and keep the pressure off and over time he'll smile when you walk in a room and Ken will know you've been accepted as part of their dysfunctional family unit.

- The other Roys might not be as welcoming to you when the announcement comes out, assuming you're just some beautiful airhead, or worse, coming after the family's power and fortune, despite how happy Kendall seems to be around you. The exception to this is of course Connor, who will pull you aside after Logan spends dinner shouting about how important prenups are, and tell you he's so excited to have another sibling and he's so happy Ken found you. *For more Kendall prenup drama I have a whole smut fic on it here.*

- Kendall would be torn between wanting a long engagement, loving the affectionate excitement the two of you share every time he catches the glint of your ring out the corner of his eye, and being so excited to plan the wedding that he gets it all set up for just a few months later. No expense would be spared for your day, whether you want to have an island to yourself, an exquisite country house or just to hire out the gallery of your dreams. As long as you're okay with it being BIG, then Kendall will make any dream you have come true.

- Kendall's first wedding was a much more classy, muted affair where he felt like he had to stifle himself to fit the idea of what a wedding should look like. He's learnt a lot about himself since then, and you've always been there to encourage him to be honest with you and hold on tight to the parts of his life that bring him joy, so be prepared for the whole day to be elaborate and spectacular.

- That doesn't mean it's not also magical, and romantic, and intimate. You and Kendall find ways to make every second meaningful to the two of you, stealing away for moments at a time to just look into each other's eyes, overwhelmed with the joy that you are now joined forever, secure together for all the ups and downs your lives will bring (unaware that one of three photographers Kendall hired is taking candid shots that Kendall will have printed as six foot high portraits to hang on the walls of his penthouse, and another dozen images to line his work desk.)

- While you and Kendall aren't too worried about a lot of the classic wedding traditions, you will spend the night before the wedding apart, opting for a cosy night in a luxury hotel with your friends to get prepped. You'll have to have your friends taking shifts by the door at all times though, as Kendall sends an influx of deliveries to show he's thinking of you. And then at 2am he'll turn up at your hotel suite begging your friends to let him see you one more time, "for one last night of sin" and they'll have to remind him it's bad luck and force the door shut in his moping face.

- But it's completely worth it as he sees you for the first time on your wedding day, somehow more beautiful than he could have pictured, dressed to perfection, wearing the same smile as you walk towards him that you did that first day he kissed you and knew then and there that this day would be coming soon. He has to choke back tears as he stutters through his vows, overwhelmed by finally having a true family member in his corner who can love him and have his back through anything.

- Without getting too NSFW, we can all agree Kendall on his wedding night would come at you like a man starved. Greedy hands squeezing and clawing at your thighs hard enough to leave marks as his teeth clash against yours with the sheer fervour that he comes in to kiss you with. A strangled mix of growls and moans, broken up by ecstatic laughs fill the room as he embraces you for the first time as his spouse, exploring and tasting every inch of you like you are an entirely new world only he gets to claim. A world where now he feels safe and accepted and loved. A world he's never going to leave.

[writercole]

You, Me, and the Sounds You Make

Summary: The first day of Beau Simpson’s honeymoon goes entirely according to plan. Squares: Honeymoon Vacation @anyfandomgoesbingo // Honeymoon @thebo3bingo Words: 475 Warnings: Implied oral, implied sex, fluff Credits: @ryebecca for the idea A/N: This has been simmering on the wip stove for a few weeks now. It’s all Becca’s prodding but it’s wonderful and fluffy and just what I needed.

Likes are loved but reblogs are golden. Patreon is gone. Tipping is available through Tumblr if you're so inclined.

The soft rocking woke her from a deep slumber. She stretched her muscles, finding herself much more sore than she had anticipated. A sleepy smile graced her lips as she recalled the night before, the aching between her legs adding on to her memories.

As she tossed the covers off, the sunlight gleamed off of her wedding band, making it glisten like the waters surrounding the boat they had chartered for their honeymoon. She padded across the hard floors, letting her nose guide her to the galley where a cup of coffee was waiting for her. She took a sip and hummed when the perfectly mixed beverage hit her tongue. Looking around, she still didn’t spy her new husband so she shuffled up the step to the deck.

“Good morning, Mr. Simpson,” she cooed upon spying him with his binoculars. He turned to face her with a wide smile, one that widened further upon spying his sweatshirt draped over her frame.

“Good morning, Mrs. Simpson. Sleep well?” he asked as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

“I did,” she giggled, “you wore me out last night.”

“Maybe I should wear you out again after breakfast,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her lips.

“We can’t spend all day in bed.” She laughed as his kisses began to wander, down her jaw, beneath her ear, along her collarbone. “Beau, I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”

He loosened his grip and slipped around behind her, ducking his head to press wet kisses along the back of her neck, gripping her tighter when she tried to wiggle away. “I’m not interfering with your coffee now.”

“It tickles!” Her giggles were drowned out by the sound of his exaggerated kissing noises. She held her coffee out to keep it from spilling on them.

“Hmm, you’re just going to have to put up with it, Mrs. Simpson,” he replied warmly as his hands drifted down her sides, lifting the hem of her - his - sweatshirt and groaning when he found her bare and dripping underneath. “Kitten, you’re killing me here.”

“I’m sorry, baby, you know how I am if I don’t get coffee.”

Beau sighed, releasing her for a moment before taking her coffee cup and sweeping her up into his arms. Laughter filled the air between them as he carried her over to the bow of the boat, laying her down atop the wooden deck and spreading her knees with his shoulders.

“Beau, what if someone sees?” she hissed, her words turning into a moan when he nipped at her inner thigh, her core begging for attention despite the soreness that had lingered only moments before.

“Kitten, there’s no one around for miles. So it’s just me, you, and the sounds you make until I decide that it’s time for you to eat breakfast.”

[george-weasleys-girl]

North Star Series

Chapter 43: Christmas Eve

Start here:

Warnings: couple mentions of sex

Summary: George and Y/N survive the shop's first Christmas shopping madness.

~•~

One by one shops on Diagon Alley closed, their owners heading anywhere that wasn't here. Only a handful of shops remained open when Christmas rolled around. Flourish and Blotts, Ollivander's, Gringotts, The Leaky Cauldron, and of course, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Walking into the joke shop was like stepping through a doorway to a different dimension. Customers flooded the store every day to forget, for a little while, the dark miasma consuming all of them just as much as they came seeking out Christmas gifts. Maybe even more. Either way, it was all hands on deck when George and Y/N returned from their mini honeymoon. Y/N had made up a batch of Bright Eyes elixir to get them through the long, exhausting days of running all over the shop before falling flat on their faces into bed.

"Hey, love, wanna have sex?" George mumbled one night after they'd both collapsed into bed.

"Yeah," Y/N mumbled back. "That'd be great."

"Oh yay. That's good to know," her husband managed to say seconds before the only sounds coming from their bedroom were snores.

~•~

Y/N lay on the bed, bone-weary, but happy. She ran her thumb along the invisible ring on her finger. She and George refused to remove their wedding bands until the day of the official ceremony. And, instead had decided to place a simple invisibility spell on them. At least when they were around anyone other than Fred.

However, being married to George wasn't the only reason for her sunny mood. It was also Christmas Eve, and the shop had closed early, so the trio could rest up for tomorrow's festivities. At any other time, they would've headed over to the Burrow already, but they were flat-out exhausted. Y/N had no idea there were so many magical people in Britain, and yet, they'd poured into the store non-stop from opening until close nearly every day for the past two weeks.

"I put a pizza in the oven," George said, shuffling into the bedroom. "Oh, and Mum's written us a letter, trying to convince us to come over tonight." He tossed it in the general direction of his bedside table, missing it entirely. It fluttered to the ground, attracting Jellybean's attention. She hopped off the bed and batted it around a bit before curling up on it and promptly falling asleep.

"What does Fred say?" Y/N asked.

"He's passed out on the sofa with Smudge asleep on his head."

Y/N nodded and grinned at the image. "Want me to write her back?"

George shook his head. "I'll do it in a minute." He raked his fingers through his hair. "It feels weird not to spend Christmas Eve with mum and dad."

"We can go if you want," she took one of his hands into hers. "I really don't mind. I think we have just enough Bright Eyes to get us through the evening. And besides, we could have something different than frozen pizza for dinner. How many days in a row have we had it?"

"763," he chuckled. At least it felt like that. Even with magic, cooking a proper meal proved to be an insurmountable task. So, they'd stuck frozen pizza every night since the honeymoon. "I've considered it, but no," George continued. "Maybe it's because I'm exhausted or because the past couple of weeks have been insane or because we've barely had a moment to ourselves except when we're unconscious, but I just want to spend tonight at home with you. And if we're going to use the last of the elixir, I'd rather use it to make love to you."

"You say the cutest things," Y/N giggled and snuggled closer to him. "And it has been a week and a half since we did anything."

"Too true." George was turning to kiss her when the timer for the pizza dinged, drawing laughter from the both of them.

"Curses!" He shouted, shaking his fist in the air. "Foiled again!"

~•~

George and Y/N lay cuddled together in bed, gazing at the twinkling lights on the little Christmas tree in the corner. "I could stay like this forever," Y/N mummered.

"Me too," George pressed his cheek against the top of her head, his eyelids growing heavy. The elixir had gotten them through dinner and a gentle round of lovemaking. "But I'll settle for," he paused, squinting at the clock. "Nine and a half hours." He felt more than heard his wife's sleepy giggle. "

~•~

"Merry Christmas Eve, Mrs Weasley," he said, wrapping his arms tighter around her. "I love you." Y/N smiled. "Merry Christmas Eve, Mr. Weasley. Love you too."

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fancy-pantaloons @samberriejams @totalwitch2 @aslanvez @mrsgweasley @morally-grey-obsessed @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @planetkt @thankyouforanonymity @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @ceehance @whotfskai

[terrence-silver]

What would Terry’s bachelor party be like?

---

― Twig undoubtedly is the type not to want to have a bachelor's party in the classical sense, because the only person he wants to spend time with weeks before his wedding, is the person he's marrying. Why? Because he's loyal, devoted, entirely besotted with boyish puppy love galore and wants every waking moment spent glued to his person's side, so really, nothing debauched is bound to happen. Not of his own volition anyway. No strippers jumping out of a cake, for example, even though he can more than afford an extravagant party, which, chances are, he'd be want to attend with beloved, even though, all things considered, that's not exactly how a bachelor party functions, but hey, try telling that to someone who is in love as much as a young Terry is capable of falling in love. Twig is very likely to go out with John, as the only male friend he holds dear at the time, or really, if we're honest, in general after the war. Have a drink. Toast for the good times. Talk. Reminisce. Perhaps make up for the lack of any festivity in the traditional sense by treating John to something grand as a way for them to kickstart and celebrate a new chapter in Twig's life together, doing so by spending money on John, even though Twig, generous as he is, should be the one receiving wedding presents instead of giving them --- something he absolutely insists shouldn't be the case because he's so happy he's getting hitched, he wants to share his joy in any way he possibly can. Afterwards, returning home to beloved with or without John absolutely sober, clean, very enthusiastic and eager to be married already, being entirely content with having no bachelor party at all, seeing it as a needless detour to what he wants --- what he really wants. And that is, as idealistic as it sounds, to be with his person.

― Terry Silver in the 80's is typically seen as something of a lascivious, unhinged hedonist, and while that isn't untrue whatsoever (and Terry himself prides himself on such titles to the highest possible extent), the same thing that rang true for him while he was Twig rings true now, except, somewhat flipped on its head; strippers do happen this time around. Sex workers, starlets, celebrities and escorts. The high end jet set of LA. Alcohol. Blackjack. Cigars. Cocktail gowns. Catered food. Personalized invitation cards. Limousines parked in front of the manor in the dozens. Waiters. Statues made out of ice. A privately commissioned band playing live music all night long. And a jacuzzi filled with champagne, for all we know. Terry Silver arranges all of this and much, much more --- but very much for the enjoyment of others. For his numerous important guests. Not for himself. It's a flaunting of money, power, prestige, unhinged fun that feeds into the whole playboy moniker he for sure garnered all while he doesn't really participate himself, even though...really...everyone would expect someone like him to, and for good reason. His bachelor party is the talk of the city. The talk of The Valley --- the whole State, in fact --- as the most extravagant, expensive affair of the decade where everyone who is anyone attends, but the man of the hour himself is scarcely seen without his beloved on the actual event; a twist few people expected. Truth is, Terry Silver has eyes only for his beloved and nobody else and chances are, somewhere in the middle of the party, he is likely to pretty openly disappear with them and be heard very ardently and vocally practicing for the honeymoon somewhere upstairs, in his mansion. He celebrates his bachelor party, in big style, in his own way.

― Old man Terry outright has no bachelor party to speak of either, not even formally, as a way to show off, no --- and this is exclusively by his own explicit choice and no force can dissuade him otherwise because he's a grown, mature man and feels he has no need to 'live it up' in the last few days of his singlehood and unmarried status, because he might be convinced he already lived large and lived fast all his youth. He has no desire to compensate for anything he hasn't already done by the tenfolds in decades prior. He views a bachelor party total waste of time at his age; in a chapter of his life when a man has nothing to spare and should, in his very own opinion, cherish every moment like the most precious luxury on the planet, he's undoubtedly already married and long since back from his honeymoon (with a pregnant partner, if at all possible, clearly working overtime) by the time anyone can expect any sort of stag from him or even have a single second to inquire about it (and even if someone does, he for sure charmingly directs the attention back to his newly-minted spouse instead, all while boiling below his nonchalant facade that someone even dared question him and his decisions). It is that easy for Terry. Time management's of the essence and he spends every moment with his beloved like he fears it could be his very last. Thing is, when Terry's committed, he's committed to the bone and when he's not committed, he's not. At any age, if he already reached the level of devotion where he's willing to marry someone and tie them to himself in every way one can be tied to another, he doesn't need anything or anyone else but them, growing absolutely singleminded in his objectives and his desires. No substitutes. No distractions. He knows what he wants and how he wants it.

[diorleclerc]

well you’ve done it now, honeymoon sex with charles?

i’ve also done engagement + wedding if you missed those

the morning after your wedding, right before you wake up to leave for your honeymoon, charles wakes you up with his head between your thighs

you wake up to the feeling of his tongue licking your pussy

when you lift the blanket up, he looks up at you and gives you a little smile

“good morning my beautiful wife.”

so that’s orgasm number one of the day and the start to your honeymoon with your husband.

the second time he makes you cum that day is on the jet on the way to your honeymoon destination

his fingers are buried in your pussy before the jet even takes off

and once you’re in the air, he lets you ride his thigh and make yourself cum

while you’re rutting against his thigh, your hand slips into his pants and you jerk him off

of course, you use your left hand and he loves the way your wedding band feels against his cock

and all of this is before you even arrive at your destination

so when you finally arrive at your airbnb for the week, he immediately takes you to the bedroom

“we have to get this honeymoon started properly.”

your airbnb is on some private property on the beach with no neighbors nearby so you can be as loud as you wish

the entire week, he makes it his mission to fuck you at least once in every single room of the house

he starts with the bedroom when you first arrive

then in the shower where you’re trying to clean off from the first round but only end up getting dirtier

then on the couch after you get home from dinner that night, where you lazily ride him as you’re both wine drunk

then the kitchen island the next morning, where he eats you out before fucking you

on the balcony with you bent over the railing and his hand wrapped around your neck, fucking you in front of the view of the beach

the pool in the backyard where he has you ride him on the pool chair before taking a dip in the pool with you.

and of course, the house isn’t the only place he fucks you

sex on the beach

in the ocean

on the yacht he rented

literally everywhere

but of course, you’re not fucking 24/7

you’re making new memories as well, celebrating your marriage and spending the rest of your lives together

watching the sunrise together in the morning

walking along the beach during the sunsets

dancing under the moonlight in the backyard

and he’s referring to you as his wife the entire week

he can’t stop calling you his wife and mrs. leclerc

and he doesn’t ever want to stop

[holybatgirlz]

Going to the Chapel | Chapter 2

read here on ao3 (previous chapter)

Summary:

“Three days?” she yelped. “I thought you said next week.” “Three days is next week.” Sophie frowned. “Oh. You’re right. Monday, then?” (An Offer from a Gentleman by Julia Quinn, Chapter 23) What happened in the days leading up to Benedict and Sophie’s wedding.

Word Count: 6.8k

--

Saturday

After many repeated assurances and the promise of a visit to Aubrey Hall after their honeymoon was over, Edmund was finally convinced – at least, placated enough – that Benedict and Sophie moving to Wiltshire was not the end of the world. No matter how much he felt it was. 

With the crisis averted, the rest of the afternoon had gone quite smoothly. Benedict had remained at Number 5 till dinner, keeping Sophie company as Hyacinth regaled them about how she and their sisters (plus Posy) had all seen Araminta and Rosamund while in the market.

While Benedict’s sisters had no issue with giving the countess and her daughter the cut direct, snubbing them in front of the entire ton, Hyacinth had gone a step further. Using candies she’d purchased off a market stall, Hyacinth had discreetly lobbed a few she’d been sucking on in the direction of the pair. 

One of which landed directly in Rosamund’s hair and stayed there, much to the elder Reiling sister’s distress once she realized what she’d been hit with.

Benedict had subsequently made a note to buy his youngest sister whatever she wanted for Christmas.

But, while his goal had been to remain with Sophie as long as he could, once dinner was over, Benedict found himself being forced out the door and back to his lodgings, by both his mother and sisters’ insistences. He was practically shoved out the door as they shooed him out, all under the pretense of Sophie being allowed to get some sleep after such a busy day. 

It didn’t deter him though. Benedict was a stubborn mule, and his mother was where he’d inherited it from, making her attempt to control him useless. 

So, he returned to Number 5 early the next morning to join them for breakfast, arriving just as Sophie was making her way down the grand staircase, heading towards the dining room.

She was dressed in soft blush colored silk, that had been cut in a manner that made the skirt look like the petals of a flower and the puff sleeves like the buds of a bluebell. All tied together with simple black ribbons, around the waist and sleeves. He was sweeping her into his arms, lifting her off the step as he spun her around before placing her down next to him. Sophie giggled as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Good morning,” he told her.

“Morning,” she returned sweetly.

“So, does my mother have any plans for you today?” he asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her towards the dining room.

She shook her head, cheeks as pink as her dress. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Good,” he told her, kissing her cheek this time as they entered the room. “Then I get you all to myself today.”

It was a pretty calm and peaceful morning. Benedict was able to spend time with Sophie, the only thing he really wanted to do while he impatiently waited for Monday morning to arrive, but he also was able to get the final item he needed before the wedding. The ring. 

It had belonged to his paternal grandmother. A handful of Alessandra Bridgerton’s rings had been left to Benedict and his younger brothers for when they found wives of their own, since her own wedding ring had been given to his mother Violet and then to Kate. For most of his life, he’d never thought about the rings, but Benedict knew the emerald one would be the one he took the moment he realized he wanted to marry Sophie.

A beautiful ornate gold band with two small diamonds and an emerald no bigger than a pinky nail between them. The gem was the same color as Sophie’s eyes. 

So, while his mother was distracting Sophie, he slipped upstairs to her room where she’d told him she’d left the ring in its small case on her dresser, which is where he found it. Giving the ring a quick look over, scanning for any tiny imperfections he knew the ring did not have, before sliding it into his pocket with the full intention of getting Sophie alone so that he could present her with it. 

He’d even prepared a speech. Planned to propose marriage to Sophie, even though they were already engaged, even though he knew she would say yes without question. He still wanted to ask, to tell her why she was his everything. Why he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

(And to make up for the fact he’d declared them engaged to a government official without her input. Even if it was for the purposes of securing her release before she was unjustly sent to a penal colony.)

He planned to present her with the ring the moment he was back downstairs. After he’d snuck her out to the small gazebo in the backyard.  

But upon his return downstairs, as he quickly made his way down the stairs and into the front foyer, he found his brother and mother chatting quietly near the door. A man Benedict did not recognize was with them. And Sophie as well, who stood next to Violet with a worried expression on her face.

The unknown man was well dressed, with dark hair that was graying at the temples and small, circular spectacles covering his pale gray eyes. Held in his hands was a well-used, leather gladstone bag. And he had a stern look on his face, one that told Benedict he was a man of strict business. 

If Benedict had to guess. He looked like a solicitor.

“Brother,” Benedict greeted Anthony as he approached the group. “Is everything alright?”

“Benedict,” his brother greeted him back with a quick nod. “May I introduce Mr. Matthew Selwin. The Earl of Penwood’s solicitor.” 

“Mr. Bridgerton,” the solicitor nodded politely towards him.

Benedict tensed briefly, a flash of worry washing over him before he forced himself to relax. After his conversation with his brother the day before, he’d expected they’d receive a response from the earl but not this quickly. He quickly forced his charming, Bridgerton smile as shook hands with Mr. Selwin, before drifting over to Sophie’s side.

She was nervous. Posture alone gave away her concern, the tense shoulders with her worried, anxious expression. Her fingers picking at the skin around her nails. Benedict only wrapped an arm around her waist, protectively, drawing her closer to him. 

“I ran into his lordship this morning while at the House of Lords. We spoke briefly. I thought it best to introduce myself, what with our mutual connection,” Anthony said with a nod towards Sophie. “He was rather surprised when he heard the late earl’s ward was getting married. He’d been under the assumption she already had.”

“Araminta told him I’d married two years ago,” Sophie added softly. “After the earl handed control of my dowry.” 

Benedict swallowed the anger boiling within him. Of course, Araminta would try to cover her tracks and guarantee there were no questions raised about her sudden disappearance from Penwood House. 

“Lord Penwood thought it best to send his solicitor to help us resolve this…mistake,” Anthony told them. “Especially with the upcoming wedding. I would have called you to the Bridgerton House, brother. For a private meeting, but his lordship he requested Miss Beckett present for these discussions.”

“And he apologies for his absence,” Mr. Selwin added. “He’s only in the city for a short time and there were matters at his properties he needed to see to.” 

“Of course,” Benedict returned, trying to ignore the fact that Penwood House was a few doors down from Number 5.

“Shall we then?” Mr. Selwin asked. 

Straight to business then. 

While the rest of them made their way into the smaller side room that acted as an office space (when needed), Benedict gently pulled Sophie back, waiting for the others to enter the room first so he spoke with her privately. 

“Are you alright?” he asked her, brushing a hand over her shoulder.  

She nodded, letting go of a sigh. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m just a little surprised. I haven’t seen Mr. Selwin since my father’s funeral.”  

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “Anthony let me know yesterday that the earl was in town. He and I agreed to handle it quietly before Monday, so you wouldn’t have to. But I should have told you.”

She shook her head. “It’s alright.” 

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he added. “To be honest, I didn’t think my brother would be able to secure a meeting with his solicitor. And this quickly.”

“I doubt there is much to discuss,” Sophie replied. “My dowry is probably pittances now. Probably nonexistent if I’m honest. And I know my father didn’t leave me anything else.” 

Gently, Benedict took her hand, bringing it up so he could press a soft kiss to the knuckles. 

“Whatever happens, know that nothing is going to stop me from marrying you Monday,” he told her, and she smiled softly back up at him. 

Sophie looked up at him, eyes shining with adoration, as she gave him a soft smile. He kissed her knuckles again. 

“Come on,” he said, offering his elbow out for her to take. “Let’s get this over with.”

—

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Benedict, please,” Anthony admonished with a sigh. 

But the information Mr. Selwin had just provided them was still being processed in Benedict’s head.

The new Earl of Penwood was now a married man. In the years since Sophie had last seen him he’d sobered up and decided to marry a young woman from his hometown up north, a vicar’s daughter and old friend, who seemed to be, from what the solicitor implied, having a good effect on him. 

And a result of his recent nuptials was that he would no longer be sharing Penwood House. From what they could gather, through the solicitor’s formal explanation, was that the earl’s new wife was not interested in sharing a property. At the end of the season, Araminta would be required to move out of Penwood House, and would further be known as the dowager countess Gunningworth. 

Araminta’s current choices were to either take the dowager residence in the countryside or find a new residence in London. Something that would no doubt be difficult for her since the earl had also reduced her allowance down to two thousand pounds. An allowance he had also threatened to halve since it appeared Anthony had informed him of the fraud that had been occurring while he was in the country. 

Two thousand pounds a year. Not a measly amount by any means, but not enough to live as lavishly as Araminta Gunningworth was known to enjoy. 

And Benedict had only laughed at the news. The result of his hysterical outburst causing Anthony to glare at him for being a tad bit too happy about it.

Only because he’d done so in front of the solicitor.

But even Sophie was giving him a harsh look. 

Mr. Selwin cleared his throat. “As I was saying, the earl apologizes for this error and wishes to compensate Miss Beckett for the mishandling of her dowry by the dowager countess.”

“Becoming Lady Araminta’s unpaid servant? Her dowry being stolen? The abuse Sophie suffered? The earl considers this to be nothing but an error?” Anthony questioned him with an unimpressed glare, brow raised. 

“Yes, well, that was quite regrettable,” Mr. Selwin replied, awkwardly, shuffling some of the papers before pulling one out and handing it to Benedict. “To make up for this, the earl wishes to pay the full amount of Miss Beckett’s dowry with an additional amount added onto it as repayment for the harm caused to her while living under Lady Penwood’s guardianship.”

As Benedict took the document, he froze as he read the total amount.

A ten-thousand-pound dowry, which had been the amount Sophie’s father had initially left her, with an additional nine thousand added to it for the years Sophie spent under Araminta’s care. One thousand for each year. A ten-thousand-pound dowry was already quite the sum for a ward to be left as a dowry or income, but to add an additional nine, even Sophie seemed surprised as she read it. 

“This is far too much,” she told Mr. Selwin, at a loss for words.

“Based on what I read, the correct amount owed is at least forty thousand,” Anthony informed her. “When the dowager countess took you into her care, her allowance was increased from two thousand to six thousand a year. Not to mention, she only requested your dowry after you fled from Penwood House.”

Benedict was beginning to regret not killing Araminta. Mr. Selwin shifted uncomfortably in his chair, not interested in negotiating a new amount.

“Nineteen is already far too much for me to take,” Sophie said. 

“You can put it aside,” Anthony advised her simply. Before adding more softly. “If you chose to take it, that is. I can help you and Benedict put it into a trust. If you have a daughter, or daughters, it can become their dowry instead.”

“Still…” Sophie trailed off, looking conflicted. 

And Benedict recalled what she’d said in the jail, how excited she’d been when she discovered her father had left her money. She’d been surprised, before becoming excited. Happy. Happy that she had a dowry but not for herself. For him. Like that was something he had expected – needed – before he’d agree to marry her.

After he’d declared them engaged without even asking her thoughts on that. Announced to the magistrate (and multiple other prisoners) his intentions to make her his wife. That should have been enough for her to realize he didn’t care about her class anymore. About money. He’d been a fool in the first for allowing it to blind him from being happy.  

All he wanted was a quiet life at My Cottage. With Sophie. Something he was only days away from having. 

And nineteen thousand pounds wasn’t going to change that. 

So, Benedict reached over to where she sat next to him, their chairs practically connected with how close he’d move his towards her, and took her small, soft hand in his.

“Whatever you choose, I’ll support it,” he told her. “And trust me, when I say we don’t need it. I don’t need a dowry to marry you.”

Sophie gave him a soft smile in return, before looking towards Mr. Selwin.

“I respectfully decline his lordship’s offer,” she told him, giving Benedict’s hand a squeeze as she spoke.

“His lordship was quite insistent about this–” Mr. Selwin started. 

“As my fiancée said, we do not need it,” Sophie cut him off. “And I’m certain our daughter will be quite fine without it as well.”

Now that statement perked his interests.

“You want daughters?” Benedict inquired, intrigued. 

“How about we get married first?” Sophie returned with a smile. “Then we can discuss how many daughters we want.” 

Benedict wasn’t certain he could. The idea of a mini Sophie, a daughter with Sophie, had captured his thoughts.

“And what about Posy?” Sophie asked, turning his attention back to the solicitor.

“What about her?” Mr. Selwin returned. 

“Lady Bridgerton has taken her in,” Sophie told him. “And she lived in the same home I did these past nine years. Even longer frankly. Now that she isn’t, shouldn’t her dowry be handed over for Lord Bridgerton and his mother to watch?”

“I’m welcome to discuss the transferring of entails with his lordship before approaching the dowager countess with this matter. If Miss Reiling truly plans to remain under Lady Bridgertons care,” Mr. Selwin said back. 

“That seems to be the plan,” Anthony inputed with ease. He was still seated behind his desk, his chin resting atop his knuckles as he gave the solicitor a hard look. And it was evident from the periodical shifting from Mr. Selwin whenever he made eye contact, that Anthony’s air of intimidation was beginning to get to him. 

“How much should Lord Bridgerton be expecting with regards to Posy’s dowry?” Sophie asked. 

“Lord Gunningworth was kind enough to leave a dowry of four thousand pounds to Miss Reiling and her sister,” Mr. Selwin informed her.

“Each?” 

Mr. Selwin shook his head. “No. The amount was to be shared. Those shares then added to the dowries their father had left them. I believe the total amount is six thousand each.”

Sophie frowned. “Well, that’s not fair.”

Benedict couldn’t help the laugh that burst out past his lips. Of course. Of course, Sophie would think that. She’d decline the ten thousand her father had left for her, ten thousand pounds that had been stolen from her by Araminta, and she considered the additional nine thousand added to it making far too much for her to take, but only six thousand pounds for her stepsister? Unacceptable. 

“What?” Sophie asked him, confused, her brows adorably furrowed as she frowned at him.

Benedict shook his head. “Nothing, nothing.”

“Posy was his stepdaughter,” she told him defensively, having figured out why he’d laughed at her. “Should he not have made it an even amount between the three of us?” 

“Sophie, I don’t think Posy will mind having only six thousand pounds as a dowry,” Benedict said as his chuckles subsided, recalling how it was also Posy who revealed the fraud in the first place.

“Well, that depends on if her dowry was left untouched,” Sophie reminded. 

“I think we should allow Lord Penwood to figure out how much the dowager countess has taken from him, and after that, we can figure out Posy’s dowry,” Anthony suggested. 

“I’ll bring this all back to his lordship so we can begin the process,” Mr. Sewlin informed them, packing away the papers he’d brought. “I will inform him of Miss Beckett’s decision to decline the offer.” 

“If I may,” Anthony interjected. “I hope that his lordship will also make clear, to any who ask, that this agreement is merely nothing but the handing off of a dowry Lord Gunningworth left his ward before he passed.”

Mr. Selwin, who Benedict had come to realize had also served Sophie’s father, barely reacted. 

“But of course. His lordship intends to do just that. It would be what his late relatives would have wanted,” was Mr. Selwin’s reply. “The late Charles Beckett was a dear friend of his lordship when they were children. He would never do anything to disparage his name and character. Let alone insult his only daughter.” 

So, they were in agreement. Both Benedict’s family and the Penwoods would stay tight lipped about Sophie’s heritage. And the confirmation came as a relief, Sophie’s shoulders relaxed, as did her posture. Benedict gave her hand another squeeze. 

“There was one other matter his lordship wished for me to address with you,” Mr. Sewlin said as he searched around in his bag. “There were items the late earl left he thought Miss Beckett would wish to have.”

Sophie frowned. “Items?”

Finding what he was searching for, Mr. Selwin pulled it out and handed it over to her. Sophie took the item, turning it over her hand to look at it.

“What is it?” Benedict asked her. 

“A watch,” Sophie responded, quietly, having apparently recognized it. “Lord Gunningworth used to carry it around with him.”

At least it looked like one. The same size and shape as one too. Small and made entirely of gold. The carving of cranes flying around in a circle on the cover. 

Only when Sophie clicked it open there was no watch face inside. Instead, there was a portrait of a woman, with dark curls and sharp eyes. A sly smile on her lips. It was a miniature painting, concealed as a simple pocket watch. 

“He also left some letters,” Mr. Selwin added, placing a stack of folded pieces of paper tied with a string. “He felt they would be best left in the care of Miss Beckett.”

But Sophie wasn’t listening. She was focused on studying the portrait, her finger grazing over the inside of the golden cover. 

“I believe that is all, so I will take my leave,” Mr. Selwin told them, rising from his chair. 

As Anthony handled the goodbyes exiting with Mr. Selwin to see him out and leaving the two alone, Benedict turned his attention to Sophie. She’d gone white, blinking away tears as her eyes watered. 

“What is it?” Benedict asked her, concerned.

“Um…” Sophie took a deep breath, brushing away unfallen tears. “I think it’s my mother.”

She handed the miniature over to him. Benedict found that on the inside of the cover was an engraving.

Yours eternally. – M. B. 

“I um…” Sophie sniffled. “I never knew what she looked like.”

Benedict’s felt his heart shattered from where it sat in his chest. Placing the portrait on the desk, he quickly took Sophie into his arms and enveloped her in a hug, knowing damn well he’d make it his life mission to guarantee Sophie never experienced pain again.

He’d make sure of it.

—

“Two thousand pounds,” Violet repeated with a small chuckle. “Well, she certainly deserved less.” 

“Do you think she’ll stay in London?” Francesca asked. “Even with the reduction, she should still be able to afford something nice?”

They’d returned to the parlor upon the departure of Mr. Selwin, where his mother and sisters had all been waiting. Mr. Selwin would have a new contract written up and sent to their solicitor by Monday at the earliest, but Anthony had promised to guarantee everything would be settled by him if there was a delay, so that Benedict and Sophie could depart for their honeymoon without delay. 

“We’ll be back for Francesca's wedding anyway,” Benedict had assured him. “If anything, else needs to be completed, we can do so then.” 

Kate had also arrived with his nephews while they were in their meeting, arriving early for the family dinner his mother was planning to hold that night. To celebrate the two engagements. 

Edmund was still a little stung by yesterday’s events and the news he’d gotten, evident from the curt glare he gave Benedict when he saw him. The young boy turned his head the moment he made eye contact with him as he walked by with his mother, giving him the cut direct, and had been disappointed to find Sophie absent from the room. 

After receiving the portrait and letters from Mr. Selwin, Sophie had excused herself upstairs. She’d gotten abnormally quiet after receiving them, worrying Benedict greatly, but he knew she needed time to process, privacy so she could read the letters in peace. 

But, the longer she stayed upstairs, the more the rope wrapped tightly around Benedict’s heart tugged. 

“Something modest, yes, but nothing in Mayfair, that’s for certain,” Violet replied, cheerfully. “But more importantly, we will never have to see that vile woman again.”

“Mama, what does ‘vile’ mean?” Edmund asked his mother, where they sated on the other side of the room with Anthony and Eloise. Miles sleeping peacefully in his father’s arms.

“It means something that is very unpleasant,” Kate told him.

“Like Uncle Benedict?” the young boy asked, with his dark eyes big and round, filled with youthful innocence. 

Innocence Benedict saw straight through. 

“Do not call your uncle vile, Edmund. That isn’t very nice,” Kate gently admonished her son, who only pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, letting out an annoyed huff. 

And Benedict could only snort at it. “Someone has a vile little disposition today, don’t they?” he joked. 

“And you–” Kate pointed a finger at Benedict, who quickly raised his hands in surrender back at her. “Do not encourage him.”

“I was merely providing my dear sweet nephew with an example of how to use the word,” Benedict assured her with a sly smirk. 

“You’re also competing with a toddler for Sophie’s affection,” Eloise pointed out from where she was lounging lazily. “It’s frankly embarrassing to watch.”

Benedict made a face at her, which Eloise just ignored as she went back to her reading.

“She’s been in her room for quite some time,” Violet remarked, staring towards the door as if hoping Sophie would appear at that very moment. 

“The earl gave her a stack of letters from her parents,” Anthony replied. “She just needs time.”

But Benedict was already on his feet. The rope pulled until it had gone taught. “I’ll go check on her,” he told them. 

His mother said nothing, only gave him a small approving nod and a smile as he departed the room, turning the conversation onto tonight's events. 

—

All her life, Sophie had known nothing about her mother. Didn’t know what she looked like or sounded like. What her interests and dislikes were. Her father would never tell her, dismissing her the first time she tried and curtly telling her there was nothing to talk about the second time she attempted to broach the subject of her dead mother.

The third time saw her sent to her room without supper and that had been the last attempt. 

But these letters, the ones Mr. Selwin had handed her, were from her. The majority of the stack was from her mother, with a small bundle she recognized were written in her father’s hand. It had taken her some time to organize them, and as she read them realized some of the letters were missing. Most likely lost to time, displaced, or burned. But the letters she had gotten had given her greater insight into the two absent figures in her life that were her parents.

They’d been in love. That had surprised her. She’d hoped there had been love, bastards were usually the result of unrestrained passion, but the confirmation had still come at a surprise. Because her father had never once shown joy or affection, towards anyone, and certainly not her.

But the letters in front of her, written in her father’s recognizable penmanship and the ones with her mother’s elegant cursive, far too good for a lowborn woman to have, told her there may have only been one person he’d ever shown happiness to. 

She’d discovered how they met, through an opera. Her mother had been a singer and her father, newly arrived in London after his first year at Cambridge, had fallen for her the moment he saw her. His first letter to her, the beginning of their correspondence, reflected such. 

You are a goddess. When I saw you step onto that stage it was as if I were watching Aphrodite herself walk ashore from the seafoam waves of the Mediterranean. Your beauty has captured my mind and bewitched my heart. I find I cannot think of anyone–anything else but you. I beg you to grant me a moment of your time. A conversation. So that I may be put out of my misery. 

There had been more. A solid page’s worth of words, describing her beauty and singing capabilities, praising her performance. 

And her mother’s response had been nothing but a short and quick thank you.

You honor me with your words, Lord Gunningworth. Unfortunately, my schedule is booked for the season. But I wish you all the best and do hope you will attend future performances at the Theatre Royal. 

Sincerely, 

Maria Beckett

She’d dismissed him, Sophie’s mother, the young and talented soprano Maria Beckett. She’d seen her father, an earl’s son, as nothing but a boy who’d been a bit too overeager in his compliments. And as Sophie read on, she’d discovered the possible reason given her mother was the elder of the two. Her father was nineteen when he'd first written to her, but Maria had been twenty-three at the time. 

The dates on the first two letters had been from the early summer of 1789, five years before Sophie was born, and the next ones had been written at the end of the following year, when her parents had finally met in person at a ball. Her mother was only in attendance to perform, when Sophie’s father had approached her and struck up a conversation. 

I must say, I did not know if I should have been insulted or flattered that an earl’s son would deem me fit for conversing the night’s affairs. You certainly put me at the ire of all those pretty young ladies seeking your attention while we spoke. 

There was no response from her father for the one. It was one of the lost ones, but the ones that followed, the building of a routine correspondence between the two, showed a flirtatious friendship that had soon turned into a love affair. 

They spoke about everything with one another. Sophie had learned more about them with a few letters then she had the ten years her father had been a part of her life. She learned he’d had an unhappy upbringing, raised by a man who expected far too much and far too soon, while her mother had grown up destitute, her father lost at sea when she was young and her mother a scullery maid to a family that barely paid her an honest wage. 

Her parents would debate and argue over little matters, passing teasing remarks in their exchanges as they argued their point. And as the friendship blossomed into a full-blown love affair, Sophie found there were letters she could not read. The words–descriptions her parents had written in their love letters to one another, about their trysts and nights together, was not something she felt she needed to be privy to. 

And had also left her face burning after the first one she read, when she realized what her mother had been describing about her father. 

You own my heart and soul, Richard. I cannot breathe without you here. 

The sight of you alone makes being in this city, being near him all the more worth it. I love no one else but you, Maria. 

And then, it changed. 

She wasn’t entirely sure, but from what she gathered her grandfather had finally discovered the affair. Sophie’s grandfather had not been one to view a lowborn opera singer, the daughter of a dead sailor and a scullery maid, as anything more than an upstarter. Someone who was trying to marry up into and into society. Into a title he deemed she did not deserve. And the fact that the affair had occurred under his nose for years, left him furious with his son.  

Richard had been threatened with disinheritance into calling off the relationship, but not with his inheritance but that of his elder sister Elizabeth. She was about to marry a baron’s second son and if she were disinherited, she’d have no dowry, and the wedding would never happen. Elizabeth had been in love and Sophie’s father would not allow her to be punished for his actions.

This was all a folly. A passing fancy. It was foolish of me to think it could have gone anywhere, that we could have made something of this, but I know now it was only a fool’s errand. It is best we end this now before others discover it. 

The last few letters had been from her mother, her reaction to his letter followed by confused letters pleading for him to explain and respond to her. It was apparent there had been no response from her father, but the fact he had kept them, stored them away instead of burning them, told Sophie he’d still loved her. 

And by the final letter, it was apparent her mother had come to terms with what was happening. 

I beg of you Richard. No matter what. Do not allow your father to rule your heart along with your mind. You’re a good man. You’re not like him. I’ve seen it. I know you can do better, be better, then him.

The postmark on the letter was six months before Sophie was born. Meaning Maria would have known she was pregnant, but she’d said nothing in her letter. It was likely her mother expected to raise Sophie herself. Without her father ever knowing.

Something that never happened. 

And in the end, it had been for nothing. Sophie knew her Aunt Elizabeth never married, that she died a spinster. Her intended was killed before they could marry while fighting in France, and a few months after that Sophie’s grandfather died in his sleep, leaving Richard the new earl. 

And by the time he was the new earl, Sophie’s mother was dead. He would neither hear from nor see her again. The news of her death would only reach him, finally, when Sophie would show up on his doorstep three years later, the final chapter of that relationship. 

All those years and he never said anything. Never mentioned her. Never even told Sophie her mother’s name and now she had all this. She’d learned more about her parents from this stack of letters then she had the years her father had been alive. She even had a picture, a painting that gave her a small idea of what Maria Beckett had looked like. 

And it had left her in tears. It couldn’t be helped. The tears were already dripping off her chin by the time she’d gotten halfway through the stack. Wiping the watery tracks from her face, Sophie tried to compose herself, prepare herself to rejoin the others, and she couldn’t do that in the state she was in.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

“Sophie?” It was Benedict. Come to check on her.

“Yes?” Sophie cringed at the sound of her voice, choked and croaky. Her throat had become tight as she’d struggled to keep back her tears. Her jaw clenched.

“Can I come in?” she heard him gently asked from the other side of the door.

She cleared her throat before spoke again, trying to rid herself of any evidence her emotions had gotten the best of her. “One moment.”

Wiping her cheeks again, she went and unlocked the door, opening it slowly, revealing Benedict standing on the other side. And the moment he saw her face, she was in his arms. Which only brought her to tears again.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Benedict gently told her as he slipped into the room, cupping the back of her head with one hand, and rubbing her back with the other as she cried. 

He slowly and gently led her to the bed, shutting the door behind him as he moved them, where he sat her down and held her against his chest, letting her cry into his shoulder. Sophie cried until she could no longer, leaving a wet stain on the shoulder of Benedict’s jacket. A stain that mortified her when she pulled away and saw it.

“Sorry,” she told him, sniffling. 

Benedict chuckled softly, pushing a loose curl behind her ear. “It’s just a jacket.”

But Sophie didn’t say anything back. Didn’t know what else to say. She was exhausted and angry and relieved and upset. Far too many emotions running through her, overwhelming her thoughts, making it difficult for her to focus on anything.

“I take it you’ve read through them all?” Benedict asked, knowingly, as he lifted a letter off the pile. 

She nodded. “Yes, they were quite…well, they were something.”

“Not what you expected?” 

“Yes and no,” she said and took a deep breath. “In a way I suppose I just…” she stopped, taking another breath. “All this time, I never knew anything about her. He never said anything. And he never wanted to talk about her or himself.”

“You think it was because it was hard for him to?” Benedict asked.  

“Maybe, but I’ll never truly know,” Sophie replied with a sad shrug. “From the way they wrote to one another. The way he wrote to her. It sounded like he cared about her deeply.” 

Benedict hummed as he scanned one of the letters. From what he read as he skimmed over the lines, he found himself in agreement with her. The prose and lines he read, the poetry, he could still feel the affection that lingered on the papers.

“It seems like they were quite in love,” he commented, reading the next one he’d picked up. 

Only this time he froze momentarily, eyes widened as he read the words on the paper in front of him, cheeks turning pink, before he hastily shoved the letter aside. Practically throwing it back onto the pile. From his reaction alone, Sophie figured out he’d gotten one of the more detailed letters.

“Well, that one certainly showed it,” he told her.

“Sorry,” Sophie quickly apologized, reaching over, and organizing the letters. “Some of them are rather…risqué.” 

“Your mother was quite the writer,” Benedict commented, clearing his throat. 

Sophie couldn’t help the small huff of a laugh that escaped her, a small smile tugging at her lips. And Benedict only gave her one back, preferring to see her happy.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I will be,” she replied, wiping away the remaining wetness on her cheeks.

“If you want to just relax this afternoon, I’m certain my mother won’t mind you missing dinner,” he assured her.

Sophie shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”

“Sophie, you really don’t need to–” Benedict started.

“It’s fine, really,” she told him, taking his hand. Then leaned forward to kiss him gently on the lips. 

Benedict had no problem accepting the kiss, gently pushing against her as to deepen it, and it was exactly what Sophie needed. The feel of Benedict, his fingers grazing over her bare arm, fueled a burning fire within her. Warming her again. 

“It will be nice,” she added as she pulled back. “Celebrating with everyone.” 

“You’re sure?”

“Completely. I’ll be fine, Benedict.”

“Alright,” he said, acquiescing. 

Sophie gave him a small, weak smile. She really didn’t want him worrying about her. “Let me just clean myself up and I’ll be back down. I promised Hyacinth I’d help her with her verbs before we had to get ready for dinner.” 

“I don’t mind sticking around and waiting for you in here. I’m welcomed to keep you company,” Benedict replied, giving her a sly smirk that had her rolling her eyes.

“And risk your mother catching us, again? No thank you,” she told him.

But Sophie still gave him another kiss before rising to her feet. Benedict followed her actions, pushing up to stand, his hand coming to rest on her lower back as he pressed his lips to her forehead.

“If you're not out in ten minutes, I’m coming back,” he informed her gently and she nodded. 

Then he was gone, slipping quietly back out the room, and leaving her to prepare herself to rejoin the others. 

But her mind was still processing the letters, all the information she’d learned from them about her parents, about their relationship. And she was struggling to comprehend it all. What it meant. The realization that her parents had been in a similar situation to her and Benedict, yet while she and Benedict had been able to overcome the barriers placed before them, her parents’ had not. 

She couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her parents, for what they could have had, while also struggling to separate herself from the apparent parallels to her romance with Benedict. Two people from different classes, different backgrounds, who’d fallen in love with one another after the briefest of interactions. Her parents had even had a gap between their first meet and the moment their relationship began.

And it was evident that her mother had started out as a mistress for her father. It was the only way the pair could be together. Something that Benedict had asked of her. 

But Benedict had seen the errors of his ways, of his request, and her parents had separated not because of the mistress status her mother had agreed to take, but because of outside forces, because the ton would never accept their marriage. 

Something likely to happen with Sophie and Benedict’s.

She knew no matter what her in-laws said or did, she would never be fully accepted by the ton. Some may overlook it, either because they did not wish to displease her in-laws or because they just did not care about where she came from, there would be those who disapprove. And it didn’t matter that they’d silenced Araminta, there would still be those who looked down they nose at Sophie, based on her class alone.  

But the opinions of the ton didn’t matter. Not to her, and not to Benedict either. She had a happy and peaceful life in Wiltshire ahead of her, with the man of her dreams, a man who loved her, and Sophie would not allow her anxieties to make her second guess that.

Now, all she had to do was keep reminding herself about that. At least until Monday.

[topgun-imagines]

When In Rome

Requested: yes

Summary: You and your brand new husband celebrate your honeymoon in Rome. 18+

Word count: 0.8k

Note: a bit of a jumble of words but hope you enjoy!

Warnings: smut, fingering (f!recieving), oral (f!recieving), mentions of sex.

Pairings: Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner x wife!reader

You and Ron had gotten married a few days ago. Slider was awarded some vacation time for the wedding, meaning that the two of you had enough time to plan a short honeymoon. So, you were in Italy for the week. You had been dreaming of a honeymoon like this for ages. Minutes after Slider proposed, the two of you were planning out details, including honeymoon destinations. Your wedding day couldn’t have come sooner.

Once the reception was wrapped up, you and Ron picked up your bags before heading to the airport. Tomorrow, you would be able to have brunch in Italy with your new husband. Flying into Rome, you rented a car before heading to the hotel for the night. The next day, Ron drove the two of you up the coast to Santa Marinella. The two of you spent the rest of the day lounging on the beach, sun tanning and swimming in the clear water.

Snuggled up on the large towel that you brought, you and your husband watched the sun dip below the horizon. It cast a warm glow over the beach, over the other couples and the families littered along the sand. The ocean reflected the orange and pink hues of the sunset as they danced across the rippling waters.

You spent the night in a local inn, spending most of the night with your naked, sweaty bodies pressed together under the thin sheets. The next morning, you awoke with an ache between your legs, one that sent the memories of last night rushing back. Grinning as Slider peppered kisses across the exposed skin of your neck, you rolled over, hand trailing over the firm muscles in his stomach.

“Morning baby,” He whispered. Now he was pressing kisses all over your face. Ron kissed your plush lips softly, tongue slipping through your parted lips as it explored your mouth. “I love you so much.” It sounded more like a moan as he rolled himself on top of you.

The next day was spent touring around the small town, stopping at nearly every cafe to try out some of the baked goods. Each one of them just looked o delicious. By the end of the day, you and Ron had probably eaten around a dozen different kinds of sweets, including the creamiest gelato you had ever had. You could have sworn that your husband moaned at the taste.

The curtains were flapping softly against the open window the next morning. Your eyes peeled open slowly, squinting at the bright sunlight that filled the room. You rolled on your side to find your husband sleeping peacefully, soft snores falling from his parted lips. Snuggling up to his side, you grinned softly at the feeling of Ron’s arms tightening around you.

You woke up again a few hours later to find Ron staring down at you with a domestic glint in his eye. His fingers traced featherlight patterns up and down the soft skin of your arm.

A few hours later, after a brunch full of sweet smoothies and crispy pastries, the two of you were driving back to Rome. Slider had his fingers intertwined with yours the entire ride. Music flowed through the car as Rin stroked his thumb over the back of your knuckles gently. You spent the rest of the day holed up in your hotel, making the best of not knowing anyone anywhere. It was honestly amazing that you didn't get any noise complaints.

Ron woke up before you this time. Even half asleep, you could feel the delicious pleasure running up your spine. You could feel the flick of your husband's tongue against your most sensitive parts. Your hips canted off the bed slightly as he brought you to your release.

You were expecting him to stop, to climb slowly up your body until he was slotted against you everywhere that you needed him and kiss you slowly. However, his head remained tucked snugly between your thighs. You moaned quietly and brought a hand down to the back of his head, running your fingers through the soft strands. He hummed when you tugged gently on it.

The next thing you knew, he was slipping two of his thick fingers into your soaked cunt. Exhaling in pleasure, you relaxed back onto the soft sheets and let yourself enjoy the feeling that your husband was bringing you.

A few minutes later you were coming again, gushing around his fingers. Ron pulled back slowly. A soft moan full of pleasure fell from your parted lips as Ron slurped up the cum leaking out of your swollen cunt. You nudged his head back when you became too sensitive. There were white spots in your vision as he sucked on your clit one last time.

Now Ron began climbing up you, lips slotting against yours as his fingers tangled with yours. He tucked his head into your neck, peppering soft kisses across the skin and whispering sweet nothings. “Best vacation ever.” You whispered breathlessly, feeling your husband smile against your skin.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)

Tagging: @alexxavicry @chaoticassidy @genius2050 @t0kyoreveng3rs @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @oliviah-25 @shelbycillian @bruher @lovelywiseprincess @emmza63 @iceman-kazansky

Join my taglist!

[satansapostle6]

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen: Nights That Don’t End

In the past few days, Luke hadn’t slept much. Most of his nights were just spent watching Katherine as she slept, making sure she was sleeping peacefully, which didn’t happen often these days, or simply staring up at the cabin ceiling. Even when he slept, Luke either dreamt of things that tormented him in his sleep, or just simply didn’t remember what he dreamt about.

But that night, he actually had a good dream as he slept throughout the entire night, one that he wished would never end.

“Okay, really good, just try that one more time, but even harder,” Luke instructed as he held his sword still in his hand. “Think you can do it?”

“Yeah,” the nine year-old nodded, breathing hard.

“Alright! Show me what you got!” he encouraged him.

Luke made the first move, swinging his sword just in time for the small boy to slash his own at the blade in retaliation, this time hitting back with an improved intensity.

“Good! You’re doing great!” he exclaimed proudly.

“Luke?” the little boy in his dream asked him once they finished training.

“Yeah?”

“How did you get that scar on your face?” the child asked him, purely curious.

“Well,” Luke sighed, trying to put a more positive spin on the traumatic memory, “I went on a quest. To retrieve a Golden Apple from the Garden of Hesperides. It’s from the dragon; Ladon.”

“Did it hurt?” the ADHD-ridden child asked him.

“It didn’t tickle, kid,” Luke sighed.

“Do people think you’re ugly?” the boy blurted out as Luke tried not to laugh.

“Uh… I don’t know,” he admitted. “But my girlfriend doesn’t mind. That’s enough for me.”

“You have a girlfriend?” the boy asked, getting a nod in return. “What do you actually do with a girlfriend?” he asked, as Luke tried his best to maintain his composure.

“No one ever talked to you about this stuff, huh? Or, any stuff?” he quickly realized.

“I’m nine,” the child pointed out.

“Fair enough. Uh… I don’t know. Depends on the person, but for me… My girlfriend’s just like my best friend,” Luke remarked. “We tell each other everything before we tell anyone else, and we always wanna spend time together. And she’s just also really pretty,” he tried to explain.

“And she likes being your girlfriend, even if you have a giant scar on your face?”

Luke nearly snorted with laughter. “Yeah, I guess you could say that… But hopefully, after tonight, she won’t be my girlfriend anymore.”

“You’re breaking up with her?!” the boy cried.

“No, no,” Luke chuckled, “I’m gonna ask her to marry me.”

*****

“Katherine? Will you marry me?” Luke Castellan asked, on one knee with the most beautiful diamond ring in his hand that he could find.

“Yes,” she gasped, “Yes!”

He quickly jumped up to kiss her, ring box still in his hand as he forgot about it for a moment.

*****

The wedding was held in Rome, during the day on the shore of a beach that looked just like paradise. It was a beautiful wedding, with a small guest list of only the most important people in their lives.

The incredibly romantic wedding ceremony and reception was followed by a two-week long honeymoon in Italy, resulting in a new development that came with an ultrasound photo on the refrigerator in their new home.

“Oh, I can’t believe my little boy’s gonna be a father!” May Castellan gushed as she and Katherine sat at the table while Luke prepared dinner. “I just wish we could’ve met sooner! I would’ve wanted to get together before you became my daughter-in-law!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Katherine sighed, “Luke and I were just always so busy…”

“Oh, it’s okay, sweetheart, I get it,” the woman promised her. “You don’t have to feel bad.”

“So, May, do you have a guess as to whether it’s gonna be a girl or a boy?” Katherine asked.

“I don’t know, what do you think, honey?” Luke’s mother asked curiously.

“I think it’s gonna be a boy,” she explained, “Luke thinks it’s gonna be a girl.”

“I see, are you hoping for anything in particular?”

“I really don’t care, I’m just happy we’re having a baby,” Katherine responded truthfully, smiling at Luke as he cooked. “But, later down the line, we’re hoping to have both…”

“Oh, that would be wonderful! You know, I’ll have to look at you when you’re further along. You can tell by the shape of the bump, whether it’s gonna be a girl or a boy,” May Castellan remarked.

“Oh, wow,” Katherine nodded.

“So, Luke, you think it’s gonna be a girl?” his mother asked him.

“Yeah, that’s my guess,” he nodded, setting plates of food down on the table as he sat beside his new wife, squeezing her hand. “Obviously, I’d be happy with anything, but I really want to have at least one girl…”

“He’d make such a cute girl dad,” Katherine beamed.

“Oh, yes he would!” May agreed. “My Luke… so sweet and gentle. You know when he was little, and I used to try and kill the spiders in the kitchen, he used to pick them up on a newspaper, and stick them outside?”

“Aw, I believe it!” Katherine sighed, affectionately kissing Luke’s cheek as she nuzzled her head into him, listening to the stories.

“You two look so happy,” the older woman gushed, seeming emotional. “Look at you, Luke, so handsome, just like your dad.”

“He is handsome,” Katherine agreed, looking up at him like he was the coolest person in the world.

With Katherine, Luke felt like Brad Pitt.

“I’m so proud of my son. Camp counselor, beautiful wife, beautiful baby on the way.”

Luke smiled softly as he looked down at his wife, and then over at his mother, who was happy and healthy, fully content with everything. He took in their smiling faces, and the beautiful sounds of their gentle laughter, treasuring it forever.

“This isn’t how it happened,” a loud, nightmarish voice violently cut through his good dream.

“What?” Luke looked up.

His blue eyes widened as everything slowly disappeared him, his lovely home, his healthy mother, and his beloved wife. Everything in that idealistic fantasy was stripped away from him until he was left alone in an empty room of darkness.

“This isn’t how it happened, Luke Castellan,” Kronos’s voice shrieked in a pitch that was both far too low and far too high.

Luke began to panic as the invisible room he was in started to make him feel claustrophobic, suffocating and not existing simultaneously.

“You didn’t leave the camp. You didn’t marry the girl. You didn’t save your mother,” the Titan’s voice reminded him. “You didn’t even keep the baby alive.”

“No!”

Luke started to twitch, remembering his unborn child as he flailed about out of instinct.

“Remember who your allegiance is to,” the voice reminded him, returning him to a new, all too familiar memory.

It was one of the earlier dreams Luke had had about Kronos; it was the dream in which he decided he’d join the father of the gods in destroying the world they currently lived in. In the dream, Luke had been showed every single ounce of suffering caused and enabled by his father, Hermes, along with all of the other gods, which basically amounted to just about everything he’d ever witnessed.

In the dream, he’d walked into an empty, almost ceremonial sort room, which was dark and empty, except for Kronos’s golden sarcophagus. Luke had touched a hand to the ancient artifact, in complete awe of the raw power emanating from it as he dropped to his knees subserviently.

“I pledge my eternal allegiance to you, Lord Kronos,” Luke vowed as he was told to. “My mind, body, and soul belong to you. I am your servant.”

“Well done, my boy,” the voice said in a saccharine tone, trying to entice him, “You’ve done well.”

All of a sudden, he looked down at his clenched fist as a beautiful Celestial bronze weapon began to appear in his hand. It was a sword, a glorious weapon he could only describe as befitting a warrior. One side of the sword, it seemed, was made from Celestial bronze, only capable of killing monsters or other mythical beings, while the other edge was steel, capable of unspeakable destruction.

This was the sword Luke had named ‘Backbiter’, capable of killing just about any creature in existence. It was one thing for a demigod to brandish any weapon made up of Celestial bronze, as killing monsters was in the job description, but in the demigod world, even just giving oneself the opportunity to kill mortals was an absolute taboo.

The sword, Luke knew, was a true instrument of death. He had received a flawless instrument of death from Kronos in exchange for becoming one.

“Why do you hope to be happy?” Kronos’s voice echoed through his empty head. “Why do you believe that this is possible?”

Luke was completely broken by the question.

“Your loyalty isn’t to yourself. You don’t serve your own happiness, or hers; you serve me,” the Titan said. “Just as I can reward you with happiness for doing as I say, I can take it back. Remember that.”

His eyes opened with a start, and he all but jumped up in bed. Katherine was woken by the sudden movement, looking over at her boyfriend as she slowly sat up, trying to shake off her own exhaustion.

“Another dream, baby?” she asked worriedly.

Luke nodded slowly, not realizing that he had already been crying in his sleep. Overwhelmed by the nightmares, he buried his face in his hands, failing to collect himself.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, rubbing his back as he held his knees up to his chest for comfort. “I’m right here, okay? Just let it out. You’re safe.”

Luke hadn’t felt safe at all in the past several days. Losing the unborn baby he’d only gotten the chance to grow to love in the past three days was the final straw for him, the very last chance he had to have hope for good in the world, or his world, at least. Ever since losing the baby, if it could even really be called that, Luke had clung desperately to Katherine even more so than before.

She was the last good thing he had, but even she had almost been taken from him by Kronos, on multiple occasions. Luke draped himself over her body, laying his head down on her chest as she held him. Her movements were slight but deliberate, as she slowly went from allowing him to sink down onto her lap to gently stroking his hair as he let out small, painful cries.

“You know how much I love you, right?” she asked him sadly.

Unable to stop his weeping or steady his breathing, Luke just nodded, hanging onto her every word as he prioritized her smooth voice over the relentless screaming in his head.

Later that day, once the both of them were feeling up to actually leaving the cabin, they decided to walk the strawberry fields, in a more quiet outing.

“I don’t know if this makes sense, but… I miss the baby,” Katherine said softly. “I know I never gave birth, but… I still had it with me, you know?”

“That makes absolute sense,” Luke promised her, a poignant look in his eyes as he felt exactly what she had meant. “I miss him or her too… I know there’s no point in saying ‘him or her’, but it just makes me feel more connected to it, actually imagining a ‘him’ or a ‘her’.”

“I wanna know what I would’ve had,” she thought after a pause. “Do you?”

“I, uh…” the question triggered a deep longing in Luke. “I wanna think so. But I don’t know if I could handle it,” he confessed guiltily.

Katherine nodded, considering his point of view.

“I wanna know… But, the thought of missing a little girl, or a little boy, as opposed to a little fetus with no identity… It makes it too real,” he forced out, a pained grimace on his face.

“Yeah,” she nodded, feeling the same pain.

“But, don’t we owe it? To what would’ve been our kid?” he asked her.

“Luke,” Katherine stopped, trying to speak as delicately as she could. “I feel the same guilt you do. I do. But, life is also for the living. I don’t want you to feel like you have to grieve a certain way, just because it would’ve been our baby.”

This caused a long, thoughtful pause as she started to wonder whether she’d said the right thing.

“Maybe you’re right. But, I don’t know… I was just really looking to having a kid, and getting to know it,” he stressed. “And I think I still wanna get to know it. Any way I can.”

“I just can’t believe this. I just can’t,” Katherine breathed, “I mean. So many things in my life, in our lives, have gone wrong. We’ve both been through so much fucking shit, it doesn’t even sound real. But, when we found out about this baby, I just…

“I don’t know. Maybe I was just dreaming, but I thought we might actually get the chance to do something right for once. I thought we’d actually get the chance to contribute something genuinely pure, and meaningful, to the world,” she expressed.

“I so wanted to have a baby with you,” Luke sighed, the look in his eyes a gut-wrenching mixture of love and trauma.

“I wanted to have a baby with you too,” Katherine agreed, tears in her eyes. “I didn’t even know that that’s what I wanted, but it happened, and then I wanted it! And then it all got taken away, so fast, and I don’t know what to do!”

He said nothing as he looked at her, the beauty of her features upstaged by sadness.

“I killed our baby, because I don’t have a soul!” she exclaimed, face contorted with disgust at herself. “I killed our baby, but I can’t even fully access however the fuck I feel about it, because I don’t have a soul!”

“Katherine, you didn’t kill the baby,” Luke promised her, taking her face into his hands, “Listen to me. It wasn’t your fault, you did not kill that baby. You loved the baby. So much. I saw it in your eyes every day,” he reminded her.

“I don’t see anything in my eyes!” Katherine sobbed, her voice almost pouty like a child’s. “I look in the mirror, and I don’t recognize the person I see! I look at the memories in my head that are supposedly mine, and they don’t feel like mine! I feel like a—like a decoy someone made! Like people are just meant to look at me and then wonder where the real one is, while the person who this life actually belongs to runs away!” she exclaimed.

Luke’s brows furrowed in sadness for her.

“I really wish you could see what I see every day,” he exhaled, “I wish you could see the way you love me, and the way you loved the baby.”

Katherine looked at Luke for a moment, noticing the way he seemed a thousand times more upset when she expressed her own feelings of sadness or pain, as if his hadn’t actually mattered. She noticed the focus with which he looked at her, as if he were only a camera recording everything she did as some amazing feat, and the sheer love that he had for her when he looked at her.

He loved her so much, more than anything, and without a soul, Katherine was afraid that she couldn’t dream up enough ways to show him that he was everything to her. After all, she was more than willing to have a child with him, despite the current state of the universe, or her own uncertainties toward the idea.

She knew that she’d opened herself up to the opportunity for something truly great, only to have it ripped away. Life, it seemed, was cruel even in comparison to death.

“God, why do we do this to ourselves?” Luke scoffed. “Why do we risk everything serving a Titan who doesn’t care about us anymore than he cares about his own children? Why are we so convinced that his new world order is gonna be so much better than what we have now?” he demanded.

Katherine paused for a moment, recognizing his fragility in that moment.

“I don’t understand why we do this to ourselves,” Luke admitted emptily, momentarily staring at nothing. “I don’t know why we put people above us who treat us like we’re disposable.”

“Because, honey, that’s just how things work,” she concluded. “You and me, we’re just people. We’re demigods, but we’re just people. We’re just not capable of implementing change ourselves; so, we hitch a ride with whoever’s gonna make the changes we want. And rarely will that be someone who doesn’t treat everyone like shit,” she pointed out.

“How is Kronos any better than any of the gods, then?” he demanded out of frustration.

“It’s not about being better,” she responded. “It’s about results. The gods won’t lift a finger for their kids, because Zeus says so. And the only one capable of bringing Zeus down is Kronos.”

Luke didn’t say anything for a moment, knowing she was right. About everything. Like she always was.

*****

“I know this has all been beyond hard on you. And I know I’ve been tired, and hurting, and spacey… But just know, I wanna make it all up to you,” Luke said softly, looking down at Katherine as they stood in one of the showers together.

It was the middle of the day, and no one was around.

“You don’t have anything to make up to me,” she said softly, an apologetic look on her face.

“Come here.”

Katherine turned as Luke gently ran his fingers through her long hair, lathering in the lightly fragrant soap for her. When Luke was tired and didn’t know how to communicate, he would often offer to wash or brush her hair, a very primitive form of affection.

Katherine never refused, always appreciating the way his hands slowly worked through her hair, as he was terrified of snagging it.

“You have the most beautiful hair,” Luke murmured, lightly planting a kiss on the base of her neck. “You’re so beautiful.”

She closed her eyes as she felt his hands still working, washing the last of the soap out of her hair as they traveled down to her shoulders, massaging them with care. She felt beyond safe with him, to the point of feeling like she was on some sort of floating cloud.

Katherine sighed internally as she felt his strong, taut chest pressing against her back. Luke, she had always thought, was built like a god. And she would’ve much rather worshipped him than Zeus, or Hermes, or whoever.

“You know,” Luke murmured as she turned back around to face him. “When I first sensed the baby, like how Chiron said Hermes is actually associated with fertility and stuff like that… I felf so happy,” he expressed.

She nodded silently, understanding the feeling.

“Before I even knew what I was sensing,” he added, sighing wistfully. “I miss that feeling.”

“Me too,” she sighed, as Luke held his hand to her cheek, thumb lightly tracing back and forth as he tried to stop her budding frown from spreading.

-

Chapter Eighteen

[mrssabinecallas]

We’ll Always Have Each Other

call sign: Angel; Before becoming a pilot, Angel was a field medic for the navy, often referred to by patients as their guardian angel.

CALLSIGN NOT USED IN THIS DRABBLE

pairing: Bradely “Rooster” Bradshaw/ Wife!Reader

In which the newly wed Bradshaw’s move into their first house on base together.

(totally not in any way inspired by how i’m laying on an air mattress in my new house)

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️ Fluff, a bit of angst (not really), Rooster being a teddy bear

Placing the last box in the Uhaul, Bradley turned to you and gave you a high-five. It had taken three days, but your entire apartment was finally boxed up and added to the moving truck along with your husband’s belongings.

You and Rooster got married a month ago, and spent two fantastic weeks in the Virgin Islands for your honeymoon. But when your trip came to an end, the real task began. House hunting.

There were plenty of options on base to choose from, but they were mostly single homes. You and Bradley knew that you wanted to have a family, and after 2 weeks of looking at new houses on base, you found the perfect one.

Climbing into the passenger seat, Rooster put the truck in drive and pulled out of your apartment complex. The new house was only about a 20 minute drive, but it was a long weave through the neighborhood to reach it.

Pulling in the driveway, Bradley put the truck in park and took the keys out of the ignition. You stepped out to be greeted by an on-base realtor, who greeted you both and handed you the keys.

You unlocked the front door and stepped inside. It smelled nice, that fresh paint and new floor smell. The echo was insane, you could hear each of your footsteps echoing throughout the entire open kitchen.

The realtor thanked you both and took his leave, leaving you and Bradley in the silence. You were faced away from him, but out of the silence you heard a small sniffle. You whipped around to find Rooster tearing up with a gentle smile.

“Baby? Are you okay?��� You stepped towards him and placed your hand on his cheek lovingly.

He nodded gently against your hand, turning his head to kiss the inside of your palm. “We’re here, and-“ he trailed off, his body wracking with sobs.

“Oh, Bradley. C’mere love.”

You pulled him into your embrace and he cried into your shoulder. Albeit, he had to bend over so he could actually cry on your shoulder, his large form looking huge in your arms. Eventually you found yourself hugging him on the floor, crying with him.

“I love you, you know that? I’m so glad I get to spend every day with you now. Waking up with you, coming home to you, and eventually our kids.”

“Oh, quit with the sappy monologue, i’ve heard it,” you joked and rolled your eyes as you dried your tears. Pulling your husband up, you kissed him on the cheek and led him back out to the Uhaul.

He laughed lightly at you, sheer admiration in his eyes. He loved you to the moon and back, and all the other lovey dovey expressions he uses. There’s no other place in the world he would rather be than right here with you, taking on this new adventure.

And you both knew no matter what, you always had each other.

thank you so much for reading! any support helps! and thanks for all the support on my last post, it means a lot :))

have a good day/night and make sure to stay hydrated! <3

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Nahh it’s fine no need for me to request again ♥️🩷♥️🩷 I would like wedding version of Julius, Killian with male Joseph s/o. This gonna be fancy, I love them 😁

Omg a wedding!!!

I love writing for weddings and children you have no idea

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Julius the dressmaker

Julius always cries at weddings

And its no different at his wedding

Hed be oh so excited to plan everything with you!

The venue, the outfits, the decor, everything!

All that boring planning stuff aside, lets talk about the actual ceremony

He was sobbing the entire time he was waiting for you to walk down the aisle, and he almost lost it when it was actually time

You were just so handsome in your fancy attire, it got him emotional!

When it is time to say your vows, he gives you a heartfelt speech he's been preparing for months, detailing his immense love for you and everything you are

And your first kiss as a married couple is definetly your most passionate, him taking you and holding you as tight as he can while your small audience of family and friends clap

The festivities are wonderful, many games are played, many yummy foods are eaten and wonderful music is enjoyed

But by far his favorite part is your first dance with each other

It was just so romantic, the two of you in each others arms, dancing to your favorite love song, whispering in each other's ears how much you love each other

After the party was over, you spend some alone time at the venue, before leaving to go get ready for your honeymoon

Two week trip to paris, anyone?

Killian Lynch

He's a nervous wreck for the entire planning period

He wants everything to be perfect for your special day together!

But once it is time for the actual day, almost all the nervousness fades away and is instead replaced with happiness

When he sees you walk down the aisle, he smiles so proudly at you, blowing you a kiss as you walk

Your first kiss as a married couple is slightly suggestive, with him dipping you and borderline making out with you, but he could care less

Thats his husband now!! If he wants to make out with his husband, then god dammit, he's gonna do it!

There aren't as many games at Killian's wedding, mostly just feasting

And boy was it a feast

His favorite part of the wedding was when you cut your first slice and fed each other your cake

Something about it was just so intimate to him

After the party, he is almost blackout drunk so you'll have to wait til tomorrow to get ready for your honeymoon

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Austin TX First Responders Week (AO3)

Written for @tarlosweeklyprompts March word of the day prompt: Partner

Owen sighed. “TK, I’m giving you the opportunity to moon over your husband and get paid to do it.” “I don’t moon.” TK rolled his eyes.

or

TK and Carlos have to give a talk about their jobs at a school for Austin's first responders week.

---

A/N: yes March is over but I'm just going to keep working on these prompts until I finish all 31 of them. It might not "count" for the challenge anymore but - details. I'll finish them all - eventually.

---

“TK, can you come up to my office please?” Owen asked, not waiting for a reply but turning around back to his office.

“What’s going on?” TK asked, getting up from his seat in the lounge. “Dad?”

“How are you in trouble already? You haven’t even been back a week after your honeymoon.” Nancy commented.

“Yeah, this has to be a new record, not even I’ve gotten written up less than a week after time off.” Marjan teased.

“I’m not in trouble! I didn’t do anything! At least I don’t think so… And it would be captain Vega yelling at me, wouldn’t it?”

“So it’s even worse. Captain Vega went to your dad.”

“Do you think he’s getting grounded?” Nancy asked her, the two barely containing their laughter.

“Oh yeah. No phone and video games. No dessert after dinner.” Marjan continued.

“No boyfriends!”

The two women burst out laughing and TK rolled his eyes at them.

“Remind me why I’m friends with you two again?” He asked, making his way up to his dad’s office.

“Close the door please.” Owen said when he heard TK come in. He had his back to the door and was unpacking something from a box.

“What’s going on? Am I in trouble?”

“No, no, of course not.” Owen turned around holding up a paramedic’s uniform shirt. “This is my belated wedding gift to you. It was meant to be here on your wedding day but there was a delay because they messed up the paperwork.”

“A uniform?”

“A uniform with your new name on it.” Owen handed him the shirt and pointed out the name patch sewn onto it. “Paramedic Reyes - Strand.”

TK smiled.

“Thanks dad but you didn’t have to do that. I’m fine just wearing this one until we all get new ones.”

“Nonsense. You deserve to have your full name on your uniform.” Owen told him. “And it’ll look good for your first responders week talk.”

“My what now?”

“It was decided during your honeymoon ok? I didn’t want to bother you with work while you were… living it up as newlyweds.” Owen rambled. “And it wasn’t my decision.”

“Dad… what was?”

Owen sat down on the edge of his desk.

“Next week is first responders week at all Austin schools. The department has agreed to have some of our people go to schools for fire safety talks and to talk to kids about our jobs.”

“Some… including me?”

“Yes.”

“Come on dad, those kids don’t want to see me, they want Marj. They want Firefox.”

“Marjan and Paul are going too. To another school. I have a schedule so I’m never without the entire crew if I need them.” Owen explained.

TK sighed.

“So I guess I’m going with Nancy then? Or captain Vega too?”

“No, Nancy is going with Tommy.”

“Who am I going with then? You?”

“No, I’m going with Judd. Captain and future captain.”

“Right. Who am I going with then?”

“Carlos.”

“What? Why?”

“I thought that one was obvious.”

“No… I’m married to Carlos, I don’t work with him. AFD and APD don’t work together. Not really.”

“We do as first responders. APD is almost always on scene too when we get called somewhere.”

TK gave a non-committal grunt.

“So why am I going with Carlos? Why not Nancy? Or Mateo. Or anyone from here? Was it your idea?”

Owen sighed.

“TK, I’m giving you the opportunity to moon over your husband and get paid to do it.”

“I don’t moon.” TK rolled his eyes.

“Either way, Wednesday you get to spend an extra morning with your husband and talk to some middle schoolers about your jobs.” Owen said, handing him the box with his new spare uniforms. “The school will be happy, AFD brass will be happy, Carlos’ sergeant will be happy, you guys will be happy, everybody happy.” He gently steered TK towards the door. “I’ve got paperwork to catch up on. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Carlos has already planned it all out.” TK replied, semi annoyed about his dad dismissing him.

He went to his locker to put his new uniforms away and change into one with his married name on it. Annoyed as he was, he did want to wear his husband’s name on his chest.

He snapped a quick selfie and sent it to Carlos, not expecting a reply because he knew he’d be working.

Only surprisingly his phone rang not even a minute later. He glanced at the screen and smiled seeing Carlos’ face smiling back at him from the beach where they’d spent most of their honeymoon.

“Hey husband.” He answered. “Didn’t expect you to be free to call.”

“I always make time for my husband.” Carlos replied and TK could hear the smile in his voice. “That uniform looks good on you.”

“Yeah? You approve?”

“Yeah, especially the name tag.”

TK laughed a little.

“My dad’s idea of a wedding present. Though I’m not complaining. I kind of like wearing your name.”

He knew he was being a sap but he didn’t care. They only got married a few weeks ago, he was allowed to be a sap.

“Yeah? I like wearing yours. I got my new tags too.”

“You did? I thought they’d told you it wouldn’t be possible until the new year?”

“They did… but things change I suppose.” Carlos replied. “I just had a meeting with my sergeant. About Austin first responders week.”

“Yeah, I had the same talk with my dad. They only paired us up because we’re married.”

“Is that so bad? Are you sick of me already?” Carlos joked.

“Never.” TK vowed. “You promised me forever, remember? I’m going to keep you to that.”

“It’ll be the easiest promise I’ll ever keep.” Carlos told him. “And getting to spend some more time with you while you’re awake is never a bad thing.”

“My dad said he was going to pay me to moon over you.” TK told him and Carlos laughed.

“My sergeant put it slightly different. He said it would be setting a good example for the kids and show them they can be anything they want no matter what their sexuality might be.”

TK considered his words for a moment.

“I hadn’t thought of it like that yet.” He admitted. “But I guess I don’t mind partnering up with you to set an example for a bunch of 11 year olds.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“I guess I kind of love you too.” TK grinned. “Are you coming here for lunch?”

“I’ll try.” Carlos promised, and they ended the call after exchanging I love yous.

That Wednesday, Carlos picked TK up in his cruiser, ignoring the teasing from the rest of the crew about going straight to school and back, and no parking.

“What were you like in middle school?” TK asked as they drove to the school. “And remember, if you won’t tell me I’ll ask your mom.”

Carlos chuckled.

“You know she’ll be more than happy to show you the pictures.” He paused to think. “I don’t know. I wasn’t much of anything really. I didn’t fit in with the groups… I just… was kind of… there. I think that’s around the time I became friends with Iris. What about you?”

“Middle school was my grand return to public school after Hebrew school. I tried to become popular by telling everyone my dad was a firefighter. It kind of worked. For a while. Though I was mostly friends with the kids of my dad’s crew members.” He shrugged. “And my mom met Enzo around that time.”

“So you always were the popular kid huh?” Carlos teased as they pulled up to the school.

“I had a dad with a cool job.” TK corrected him. “I guess that’s one of the reasons I went into firefighting too."

They got out of the car and walked into the school, almost automatically lacing their fingers together.

The janitor greeted them and showed them the way to the classroom that was expecting them.

“Ready babe?” Carlos asked, raising his hand to knock. TK nodded and straightened his uniform.

Carlos knocked and a friendly looking woman of around their age opened the door and invited them in.

The two men shared a look and let go of each other’s hand. They might be there as LGBT+ poster boys for AFD and APD, but walking into an unfamiliar environment hand in hand was a whole other thing.

“Welcome to our class, officer Reyes–Strand and paramedic Reyes-Strand.” The teacher greeted them and didn’t seem to react to their names. “I’m miss Collins. Do you have a program prepared?”

“We do.” TK replied. “But I thought we could go off book a little and just take some questions. I’m TK, and this is Carlos by the way.” He motioned at himself and Carlos. “Does anyone have any questions for us?”

A few kids started yelling until Carlos held up his hands.

“Guys, raise your hand, yeah?” he said in what TK called his officer Reyes voice. A few kids raised their hand. “If your question is if I’ve ever shot anyone, you can put your hand down, because while the answer is yes, I’m not going to elaborate on that. Discharging your service weapon at a person is a serious matter and not something to brag about.”

“He’s usually more fun than this.” TK joked and pointed at a kid in the back row. “You in the Pokémon hoodie, what’s your question?”

“Why do you have the same name?”

“Because we’re married.” Carlos answered him, still very much in cop mode.

“To each other.” TK clarified, holding up his hand to show off his ring and grabbing Carlos’ hand to show his. “We got married a few weeks ago actually. This is only our second week back at work after our honeymoon.”

“Congratulations.” Miss Collins said and gave them a friendly smile. “We’re honoured that you chose to come talk to us this soon after your big day.”

“Thank you. It’s our pleasure, ma’am.” Carlos replied, still overly polite but sounding a little more like himself.

“So you’re gay?” The kid from before asked and a few others snickered.

“Yup.” TK said, popping the p. “And so is he, if that was your next question.” He nodded at Carlos.

“Are you allowed to be gay and be a cop?” another boy asked.

“Obviously. Or I wouldn’t be here.” Carlos replied. “Who I’m married to has nothing to do with my ability to do my job.”

A few more kids asked about being gay and being a first responder, with questions varying from their co-workers’ reactions “They’ve known from day one, and when we got engaged they only argued over who would be best man or woman at our wedding.” to whether or not they would be allowed to walk in the pride parade in uniform. “Probably. But I don’t plan to find out because I’m not planning on working at Pride, I just want to have some fun with my husband and my friends.”

When miss Collins steered the conversation back to their jobs, they soon got questions about the scariest/coolest/funniest/hardest cases they’d ever worked.

TK was absolutely delighted to talk about the woman who had ingested worms that had grown inside of her and started to come out via her nose and mouth, the guy who had swallowed a frog, the time they’d rescued someone from a porta-potty, and the time he’d pulled a lizard out of a guy’s leg.

“And he took that lizard home with him.” Carlos told the class. “And then it escaped. There was a flesh eating lizard on the loose in our house.”

“What did you do with it?” a girl asked

“We found him and released him back into the wild.” TK explained.

“Where he belongs.” Carlos added.

“Can you tell us something about cases you’ve worked on officer?” Miss Collins asked Carlos.

“Well… nothing as exciting as a flesh eating lizard I’m afraid.”

“He’s being humble.” TK interrupted. “He helped find and rescue a girl that had been abducted from her house. He found her and brought her back to her parents.”

“Technically that wasn’t even my job.” Carlos pointed out.

“True. He helped find that girl just because he cares so much.” TK said and patted Carlos’ chest, resting his hand over his heart for a few seconds.

Carlos smiled at him and briefly seemed to forget where he was when he gave TK’s hand a squeeze.

“Any other questions?” he turned back to the class, more Carlos and less officer Reyes with every passing minute.

He indulged kids who came up with hypothetical crimes and with TK as assistant, showed them how to incapacitate a suspect, as well as giving them some tips on how to free yourself from someone’s grip.

TK was happy to sit back and watch the kids hang on Carlos’ every word.

“But police work isn’t always like this.” Carlos said, wrapping up his talk. “A lot of the time it’s paperwork. Typing reports, filling in forms, that kind of thing.”

“And eating donuts?” The boy in the Pokémon hoodie asked and the class laughed.

“I actually prefer cronuts.” Carlos said with a grin.

“Alright that’s all we’ve got time for today, thank you so much for making time for us.” Miss Collins said, getting up from her seat.

“No problem.” TK replied. “And if you guys ever want to know more about firefighting or being a paramedic, feel free to come by Station 126. That’s where we work.”

“He does, I don’t.” Carlos clarified. “And make sure to ask your parents if it’s ok. And don’t skip school to go.”

“You kind of do work there, babe. You’re there for lunch more often than at the precinct.” TK pointed out, not even realising he’d slipped in the pet name until a few girls giggled. “What? I’m allowed to call him babe. That’s my right as his husband.” He slipped his arm around Carlos’ waist.

They said goodbye to the class and got back into Carlos’ cruiser.

“You were really good with those kids.” TK commented.

“The perks of having a lot of younger cousins I suppose.” Carlos shrugged, buckling his seatbelt. “Do you want to head back to the station for lunch or go somewhere downtown?”

“Officer Reyes, are you asking me on a lunch date?” TK joked, laughing when Carlos rolled his eyes at him. “Let’s go get tacos from that food truck by the park.”

“Sounds good.” Carlos replied and started the car, pulling out of the school parking lot, muttering some Spanish curse under his breath when someone cut him off.

TK smiled and sat back, happy to let his mind wander for the short while it would take to get to the taco place.

He imagined a future, maybe a few years from now, where it wouldn’t be just the two of them going out for lunch or coming home after a long day. A future where Carlos’ beloved Camaro might have to make way for something with room for a car seat and they’d have to look for a place with an extra bedroom. Or two.

[mannatea]

The World Could Be Beautiful, a Tales of Symphonia ‘fic (Chapter 5)

Word Count: 25,224 Summary: After a chance encounter in Izoold, Raine and Regal both get a lot more than they bargained for. (A one-night stand 'fic with consequences.) Chapter Summary: Regal announces his marriage! And it's their wedding night. Pairing/Characters: Regal/Raine, Genis, George, and assorted OCs as the story requires. Lloyd, Colette, and Zelos all show up later. Warnings: Blanket warnings for the entire fic: pregnancy (and all that comes with it), discussion/mention of abortion, power imbalance, fantasy racism. Rating: Explicit. (No sex in this chapter.) Genre: Romance/angst/bumbling through an awkward and frankly frightening situation.

The title is the link to Ao3 for Chapter 5!

Notes under a cut. (Read after the chapter.)

What can I say? I stand by the fact that if George was not thrilled with Alicia, who was poor and human, he would be very unhappy about Raine. That said, you can't really blame the man for being suspicious.

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There was a period of time where wealthy people went on post-wedding "tours" and sometimes these were called "holidays." Historically "honeymoons" were pretty long affairs. I like the idea of the tradition existing in both worlds but managing to feel different. In Tethe'alla, it's something only wealthy people do because it involves not needing to work for weeks if not months. Since a lot of these marriages are arranged or for convenience, this time frame lets the couple get to know one another in a more private sense (vs. in front of all the staff of their home).

In Sylvarant, it's more about having time to get to know your spouse/spend time together/kickstart reproduction lol. The better off people do usually use this time to go somewhere fun, but that's considered a luxury. Raine actually uses the term "honeymoon" in-game (Lloyd + Raine, Altamira's hotel scene: she says the room seems like a honeymoon suite). What's truly interesting is that the hotel doesn't...advertise it that way. (Hence my dumb headcanon.)

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Dreaming of your wedding day... Yeah, not everyone does this, but I think a lot of people do at least idly wonder about it or have an idea of what they expect/want for it.

I didn't drag this conversation out because Regal's too smart and I don't think he'd pry about this, but Raine never let herself think about what her eventual wedding day would be like because she didn't think she'd have one anytime soon (not as long as she was pretending to be an elf, anyway).

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I like the idea that Raine is a gifted writer. I feel like in-game that information alone makes her fan-club make a lot more sense. Just imagine she's published a few papers on research in the last five years.

She's also on occasion a bit more expressive in writing. It feels safer and is therefore easier for her. In this case, she'd prefer to be more honest with Genis but she's paranoid that her letter could be read and she can't afford rumors right now..so it's time to lie (and hope he Sees Through It).

Also the bit about how she feels like she could lie straight-faced to Zelos or Sheena. This just fills me with the desire to write a fake dating scenario where they do have to lie to one or both of them, because it would be hilarious. Zelos in particular would be hard to convince HAHAHAHA.

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Rings in Tethe'alla being traditional is something I've used before. I just imagine with Sylvarant being so poor they have other traditions that make more logical/financial sense in different areas of the world (wearing a certain color, wearing their hair up, whatever).

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WEDDING NIGHT. Poor Raine can't focus on her book with this on her mind. I didn't want to give off the impression that she was anxious about it, or even nervous, because she's had sex with him before. If he expected it now she would agree to it because it's their wedding night. She's mostly just feeling uncertain/shy about it. They both said they didn't think about it too often, but this is a special circumstance and they didn't discuss it.

As to Regal's real reasoning for why he's not insisting on sex on his wedding night (other than the fact that he's just straight-up not a jackass): it's a combination of things. He doesn't want to push her, he doesn't care that much, he really just wants to have what he feels he missed out on when they hooked up in Izoold, and frankly if there was a bigger expectation of it placed on him for something this personal/intimate I think he'd struggle with it.

Also, Raine thinks she's not a romantic but sometimes she does say weirdly romantic things. Telling a man who suffered crushing guilt for almost a decade over how his hands were tools of violence that you're "in good hands" GIRL PLEASE. Also saying his birthday matters to her because it's the day her husband was born??? RAINE.

Regal "There Can Only Be One Romantic" Bryant eats this shit up. He's so stupid I love him.

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Also, that boyfriend? Don't forget him. (: