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#and thank you so much for not inviting me to the wedding. I wouldn't have come and would've felt bad forever about it
feleshero · 3 months
Note
✦✦✦
Something for that ass: @redhead-reporter
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WRITING:
Love the way you write! It's this very easy to follow series of events that always leads itself to the turn of the wheel. I've gotten into how I adore your approach to the collaborative efforts, but that was more than a week ago so! Every thread I've ever seen you writing has always been easy to transpose over a storyboard in my head. I can see where the action starts, I can follow the camera's movements, follow MJ's blocking & antics, and then get to the end of the scene easy each and every time.
I positively adore your ability to structure, because I can't structure a story for shit, and seeing it done well and with someones I adore both in and out of character? You've got it.
BLOG VIBE:
Shaye you run your blog like its FAO Schwartz. (I'm still in early 90s mode, I need you to walk with me here.) Its HAPPINESS when you're on the timeline. People show up, they see Shaye posts and the general energy is "Great! It's a sunny day, I can get into my little tumblr blog posts knowing I won't be in the shade."
Everyone and their Zauntie (Zaddy Auntie) drops what they're doing to give you your 'attagirls' because we feel [and I am speaking for everyone here, come check me if you disagree] that you need to be reminded, you need to be told, you need to be kept aware that we fuck with you HEAVILY and want only for you to be respected, uplifted and adored the way you seem to want to respect, uplift and adore the rest of the community.
THIRD BULLET POINT:
I actually don't know what to put here. Chatting about you is easy, I can riff on all the little positive memory nuggets in my head forever, that's not a struggle, but like... saying something that hasn't been said before? Something you need to hear to let you know I care big time about what it is and what you're bringing to the table.
... ... ...
OH! Dude, congrats, shaadi mubarak and BIG FUCKING UPS on your oncoming marriage!! I don't know HOW you writing Mary Jane has domino'd into a life of matrimony, but I don't need to know the 'HOW' I only need to feel the 'WHAT' and the WHAT that I am feeling is 'What a fucking joyous occasion!!' May happiness fucking surround you for the rest of your schedule, and may prosperity rear its head in every chaos you endure.
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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months
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Say I Do (m) | jjk
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Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 
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Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 
Fuck. 
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
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satorusugurugurl · 2 months
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,498
Warning: stress, yelling, fighting, kisses, insecurity, self doubt, language, suggestive, whipped cream
A/N: Things are getting are getting spicy now!! Y'all aren't ready for part four!! A reminder, of you want to be included in the tag list YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!
Part One, Part Two, Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
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The smell of cedarwood, one you used to love, was now suffocating you like a toxic gas. Your eyes blurred in shock as Toji pressed his chest against your back. Letting you know this was real and you weren't in a drunken haze.
“Are you listening to me?” Toji spoke again, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I told you we need to talk.”
A year and a half ago, the old you would have given in, allowing him to give you any explanation he pulled out of his ass. You, however, had grown in your time away. You didn't have to listen to him.
“I don't want to talk to you.” Your voice trembles, not in fear, but in a boiling rage that was settling in your chest. “Get the fuck off me.” The disbelief in his eyes is almost comical, but he doesn't move. “Get! The! Fuck! Off! Me!”
Your ex listened this time, promptly stepping back and holding both of his hands out in front of him. “Jesus fuck, sorry. But I'm serious about talking to you.”
A scoff of disbelief is the only answer you gave him as you washed your hands. If you kept your body constantly moving, you wouldn't freeze up again. Despite your best efforts, your traitorous hands continued trembling. Unfortunately for you, Toji noticed this, his eyes lingering on your hands before drifting to your face as you dried them off.
“Do I make you that nervous?”
“Oh my god, are you kidding me?!” The rage finally boiled over, like hot milk on a stove. “Nervous?! You think I'm nervous?!” You stormed forward, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest.
Your rage and finger jabs only have Toji rolling his eyes. His much larger hand shot up, grabbing and squeezing your wrist. His skin on yours made you feel a certain way. That contact was something you craved before, something you felt like you needed. Now? That contact made your stomach churn with nausea.
“Ya’ done lying?”
“Let me go.”
“No, I asked you a question. Are ya’ done lying?” Toji steps forward, crowding you against the wall. “Because we both know you're lying to yourself. You are nervous; you've been nervous since you stepped foot here in Kyoto with your friend.” His words stung like lashings from a whip. “I make ya’ nervous; that's why you've been avoiding me. And I don't like being ignored.”
A rage burned in your eyes as he waited for you to respond. How dare he corner you and act like you were the problem! You yank your wrist away, glaring up at him.
“That friend of mine is my boyfriend! And I'm not nervous around you. I can't stand you. Being around you makes me sick.”
“Oh, that's rich. Why is that Y/N? Why do I make you sick?”
“What makes me sick?! Toji, did you forget you broke off our engagement a month before our wedding? You broke my heart! Being around you fuckin’ hurts; do you not understand that!? So what you see as nervousness is me trying to heal!” Toji’s eyes widened as you continued your rant. “So that’s why I have no desire to talk to you! I don't care what you have to say!” But knowing Toji, he wouldn't back down so easily. “But you won't leave me alone unless you say whatever the fuck it is you want to say! So what is it, come to gloat about your life as a married man? Come to show me a picture of your pretty wife?”
“Watch it.”
“Or did she find out about your gambling problem and can't handle it? So you want me back so I can take care of us?” You had fully intended for that to hurt, but your insults just bounced off him. A smirk turned at the corner of his scarred lip.
“You think I'd actually want you back?”
His words stung like a million scorpion stings. It knocked the air out of your lungs as you felt your stomach drop. Toji slowly came to the realization of what he had said, his smirk falling as he saw the tears in your eyes.
“Y/N, fuck, I didn't mean it like that.”
You shoved your way past him; your heart thundered in your ears as you grabbed your sweater and bag off your chair. All of your friends were far too drunk to notice the state you were in, waving bye as you headed for the door, dialing Satoru’s number. Hot tears flowed down your cheeks as you tried to keep some composure.
He picked up on the first ring. “Our first drunk call; I'm so excited to hear all the cute things you're gonna say.” When Satoru doesn’t hear the commotion of the bar, his teasing tone vanishes. “Y/N?” God, he sounds sincere, like he might care for you. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?”
“T-Toji’s here, and I—” a sob rips through your chest, “I can't do this.”
“Where are you?” You listen to him shuffling a door opening and closing.
“Outside of the bar.”
“Is he around?”
“N-No.”
His breathing was shallow; the background was breaking in and out. Was he—running? Why would he come running to you?
“Good, stay there; I'm on my way.” The line went dead, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone.
The inn was nearby, so it shouldn't take him long, maybe a ten-minute walk, maybe faster since he was running. But he couldn't come soon enough. Your head kept turning toward the door to the bar, anxiously waiting to see if Toji came out. God, you prayed he wouldn't.
Your chest was constricting, and your eyes blurred as you fought against the tears threatening to escape. You didn't want to cry more. Because it was a waste of time, energy, and tears. There was no sense in crying over something so silly!
“You think I’d actually want you back?”
His words were on a loop. Slicing into your still bleeding heart, cutting new wounds, deeper ones. Which was so stupid! You would never get back to him! Even if he asked you to. You two had grown apart, your relationship toxic. So why did it bother you so much? Words from a man that hadn't been in your life for so long!
You glanced towards the night sky, the stinging feeling slowly turning numb. You knew deep down why it hurt. A reason that made you feel sick and weak. Like some fucking pathetic character from a soapy book.
If Toji didn't want you, who would?
A hand gently grabs your shoulder, turning you around. You turn, expecting to look up to the almost magical blue eyes of Satoru. Only you can find dark blue eyes. You step back, only to have Toji grab your purse and yank it, pulling You back towards him.
“Leave me the fuck alone!!” Toji flinched at your broken plea. “Haven't you done enough tonight?!”
“Look, I’m sorry! I didn't mean it like that!”
You fight against every urge to punch him. “Oh!? Okay, what did you mean when you said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back?’ Because it seems like you meant it to me!” Your purse falls to the ground as Toji pulls you closer. His hands clamp down on your upper arms to prevent you from moving away.
“Will you shut the fuck up for five damn minutes!?”
More tears stream down your face; your eyebrows knitted together pathetically as he bent down slightly, forcing you to look up at him. There was no use fighting it. He wasn't going to stop; you were trapped.
Satoru was breathing heavily as he turned the same corner he'd walked with you earlier. When he did, he froze in his tracks, seeing you and your prick of an ex standing outside. Toji was squeezing you, yelling something in your face. Satoru’s heart clenched when he saw the way your eyebrows pinched together. You were distraught, visibly upset, and you—you were crying.
Something inside Satoru’s chest snapped, and he bolted forward, rage painted over his features. “Hey!”
Your head whirled towards his voice, Y/H/C hair, tear droplets flying. He swears it happened in slow motion; fuck, you were even pretty when you were upset. Your face softened, the disdain melting away like snow in the spring. All because he was there, knowing that he had that sort of effect on you made his heart race. Making you happy was all Satoru had wanted to do.
Something he had never felt with clients before. Because the more time he spent with you, the more Satoru got to know you, the less you became another client on his calendar. To him, you weren't just a number, a dollar in his bank account, were Y/N.
His Y/N.
Not this fucking assholes. Not anymore! Satoru grabbed Toji’s wrist, forcing him to release you. Your ex-fiance glowered as Satoru pulled you to stand behind him. When your hands clung to his shirt, he released his vice grip on Toji’s wrist.
“You again.” Toji sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, me, the boyfriend.” Satoru crowded Toji, the two men face to face. “I’m guessing you didn't hear me the first time.” He eyed your ex up and down. “If Y/N wants to talk to you, she will. But as you can see, she doesn't, so fuck off.”
Satoru backed off as you buried your face into his back. He knew you were crying. Still, your body was trembling, hands clinging to him, keeping you grounded so you didn't break down. The state you were in irked him the wrong way, and his fist clenched, longing to hurt the dick who'd hurt you as much as he’s done to you.
“I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and Y/N. So you fuck off.”
“I'm Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo family business. I'm also dating Y/L/N Y/N, and I plan on being with her for a very long time! Got it?! Good now, if you’ll excuse us; I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner, asshole.”
Satoru felt your grip loosen around him, a little gasp leaving your lips. “T-Toru.” A nickname, you gave him a nickname. God, he felt like he could fly.
“I got you, let's go.” Turning around, Satoru started leading you down the sidewalk.
He barely made it a foot away before he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt. Both fists shot up, ready to fight. Toji instead shoved your purse in his face. “Some boyfriend, you are almost leaving without her bag.” Toji waved at you as he headed back into the bar. “We’ll finish this another time, Y//N.” Satoru glared at him until Toji was inside; the second he was gone, Satoru grabbed your hand, leading you down the street.
You didn't say a word, but your smaller fingers intertwined with his, allowing him to lead you away. He pulled into a ramen shop, helping you in a booth before sitting across from you. You were wiping at your eyes, but more tears kept rolling down your cheeks. Satoru’s heart shattered seeing you so upset like this.
“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccuped, “I god, I'm sorry, Satoru.”
“No, don't apologize.” He reached out, replacing your hand with his own. His thumbs gently brushed tears away. “What happened?”
You laughed, but it wasn't your usual happy laugh. No, this laugh was full of sorrow. Satoru didn't like it when you laughed like that.
With a breathless sigh, you leaned into his hand. “Toji cornered me in the bathroom. He kept wanting to talk, and well, things were said.” Your lips brushed over Satoru’s palm as you spoke. “In the midst of my anger, I asked if his wife found out about his gambling problem. And if he wanted me back to take care of him like I did. Jokingly, of course, and he—” Your bottom lip quivered. “H-He uhm, god, it's so stupid—”
“It's not stupid, please tell me.”
You took a deep breath, “He said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back.’” Your voice was so fragile as you repeated those pain-ridden words to him.
“Are you kidding me?” Satoru’s other hand cupped your other cheek. Holding your face gently as he watched as your face contorted with emotional pain. “This is the part where you tell me you're joking, right? That he didn't say that shit to you?” The mind-numbing silence was the answer to his question. “That motherfucker, I should have knocked him out when I had the chance.”
“I-I didn't even mean it, ya’ know? I wouldn't get back together with him.”
“Good, because there's no way in hell I would allow you to get back together with that asshole. You deserve so much more.”
Your Y/E/C widened and glittered under the lights at his words. “You think I deserve more?” Satoru nodded, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. The look on your face was full of hope, a look Satoru had never seen grace your beautiful features before. But that light faded just as fast as it appeared.
It was doubt; you had been hurt so much in the past that you doubted the genuine words he was saying.
”Hey, I don’t say shit. I don’t mean.” Satoru whispered.
”I know, I just, I’m so confused.”
”Confused because you’re drunk?”
”No, I’m pretty much sober now.” You sighed, pulling away from his grasp. “I just, I’m conflicted.”
”Conflicted over what?” He cocked an eyebrow as you flushed. “Tell me.”
You gulped down some water before running a hand through your hair. “I just, us.” Satoru perked up. “I know I hired you to be my wedding date and all. But I like you.” You chugged more of the water down like it gave you courage. “And it’s not only because you’re super fucking hot. I also like talking to you, god I love talking to you.” Satoru’s cheeks flushed, watching you closely. “But what is the cherry on top of the sundae of you being everything I’d want in a partner is the fact that you came running for me today.”
”Y/N—“
”You dropped everything and came running to me. Like a scene from a Rom-Com.” Your nails clanked nervously over the glass, your gaze drifting toward the awe-struck Satoru. “I know I hired you, and this is your line of work. But I can't stop thinking about the kisses—mmmph!”
Before you could finish your last word, Satoru grabbed your face, kissing you deeply. His fingers gripped your chin but shifted to hold your cheek in his hand, cupping it gently. With wide eyes, you slowly kissed him back, melting against him.
Satoru slowly pulled away, his thumb moving down, caressing your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve never felt like this about a client before.” He panted softly.
”Really?” You smiled wide as Satoru hummed happily.
”That day we talked on the phone, I knew there was something different about you. Something I want to explore.” You giggled, tears forming in your eyes as he wiped them away. “So, what do you say we order dessert here for a little date?”
You looked around before shaking your head. “No.” Satoru’s face went pale as he looked you over, searching for an explanation. “The dessert here is shit, let’s go back to the inn, and I’ll make us something?” Satoru's breath was full of relief as he stood up, grabbing your hand tight.
”You are such a brat.”
Despite being a brat, Satoru followed you back to the inn. He watched with curious eyes as you moved around the clean kitchen. You were pulling out mixing bowls, cream, and chilled sheet cake. Your tiny hands so gracefully washed strawberries, your touch gentle as if they would fall apart if you handled them any other way.
Everything you did was done with skills he did not possess. Slicing strawberries, cutting the vanilla cake into the perfect symmetrical cubes. Satoru found himself under a spell as he watched your every move. God, you looked so gorgeous in a zone like this. Your smile, the way you move with purpose, focused on constructing the dessert you promised him.
You peeked at him from the corner of your eye. He grinned as he rose from his seat, striding towards you as you poured heavy whipping cream into the stand mixer before switching it on at medium speed. Satoru had a certain gleam in his eyes as he oh’d and awed at the cream inside the mixer. He was so fascinated, and he looked like a child in a candy store.
You tapped his shoulder, handing him a small vial. “Want to help me? You can put the vanilla in.” Satoru eagerly took it, opening it. He sniffed the bottle before looking down at you.
“Give me a hand?”
“Sure,” your hand slowly ran over the top of his, “just do a little bit.” The two of you poured some vanilla into the mixing bowl. A rich smell wafted up in the air. “Was this just an excuse for me to touch your hand?”
“What?” His tone was full of faux confusion. “No, never.” He quickly put the vial of vanilla down, his fingers interlacing with yours as he pulled you into his side. “What's the next step, chef?”
“We add in sugar.” You worked your culinary magic, sweetening the whipped cream. “And that is how I make my whipped cream; I use it at the bakery.”
“I love the whipped cream at the Ichigo Cafe.” Satoru groaned out, looking into the bowl. “So fluffy and sweet!”
You tapped your fingers on the bowl. “Why don't you taste it? Tell me if it's sweet enough for you. Mr. Six packets of sugar in my coffee.” He turned to face you, resting his hand on his hip with a smirk.
“I am not at all ashamed of my likes, Y/N.” he pulled the top of the mixer up. “I like my treats sweet; I am the Gordon Ramsey of desserts!”
“Satoru, watch out for the switch!”
Satrou smacked the switch while scooping a finger full of whipped cream. The whisk attachment spun around several times, splattering the two of you with bloats of sweetened cream. Satoru quickly turned it off, looking around at the white mess.
A big blob of whipped cream fell off his nose, smacking into the metal table. The sound, his eyes slowly glancing at it, and the stunned look on his face knocked over your giggle box. Your head tilted back as rich, warm laughter flooded the kitchen. Making Satoru melt as he wiped the whipped cream off his face, licking it off his fingers.
The sight of his fingers dipping into his mouth. Had you choking on your laughter? Cerulean eyes burned as he slowly pulled his finger out, smirking. His thumb brushed out your lip, smearing whipped cream over it. The action had you breathing heavily.
“Tastes sweet, but I think you're sweeter.” He leaned down, his lips brushed over your cheek. “Ten times sweeter.”
You closed the distance this time. Pusjingnhis back against the table. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss—the taste of your whipped cream lingering on his tongue. Your sudden boldness had Satoru stumbling, eyes wide as you shoved Your tongue in his mouth, much like he had done to you earlier.
He whined, shutting his eyes tight as he grabbed Your hips, pulling you tight against him. “You're so beautiful, god Y/N.” He whispered in between heated kisses. “I think I started falling for you since that first phone call.” His honesty had you whining against his lips as he sucked and nipped at your bottom lip.
“Satoru~”
“God, I want you; I want you so bad, Y/N.”
Your heart lurched into your throat as you pulled away, staring into those blue eyes you were falling for. Satoru wanted you. He legitimately wanted you. Not just to take you out on a date, but he wanted you in ways you hadn't been wanted in a very long time. Ways you told yourself and Satoru you didn't need. But the desperation in his kisses, how his tongue moved against yours, and the hard bulge growing in his pants had your heart thundering, utterly breathless, and oh-so-wet
“Toru.” He groaned, trailing kisses over your neck, his hand squeezing your hips. “Toru.”
He pulled back, shutting his eyes tight as he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he sighed, “I’m sorry as much as I want you. I don't want to rush you.” Your hands trailed over his toned stomach, fingers undoing the button to his jeans.
“Toru, take me to our room.”
Tag list: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO!!)
@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovely212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator
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ijustwant2write · 1 year
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Reunion Of Sorts-Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader
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(GIF credit to @mrsbridgerton)
Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi! If your requests are open I'd love to request an Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader where the reader's Simon's sister. Prompts 14 and 15 please? Thank you so much, your works are amazing!’
14) 'It's only good news depending on how you look at it.'
15) 'I just wouldn't have expected this!'
Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader, Simon Basset x Basset!Reader (siblings), Daphne Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Bridgerton family
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Just extreme fluff!
                                            *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Are you quite alright, (Y/N)?" Simon asked his sister as they journeyed in their carriage.
(Y/N) had started fanning herself a little faster."I don't know why I'm so nervous. I just hope to make a good impression."
"Of course you will. I'm sorry you haven't met them sooner."
"I could have at least met your wife at the wedding, if I had been invited."
"We have been through this, (Y/N)."
"Yes, and I'm not trying to argue with you, Simon. I know you married in haste, and I know why, but you must admit, you've left this far too long. You have a son now!"
"You have been cooped up in that house with your matron as father intended. I think she would have had my head if I tried to get you out of there."
They laughed together.
"Simon?"
"Hm?"
"I am very excited to meet your wife and my nephew."
As usual, the Bridgerton house was abuzz with excitement and chaos. Eloise didn't understand why she had to dress up so much for this visit, Gregory and Hyacinth were bombarding everyone with questions about Simon's sister, Colin and Benedict tried but failed to escape the madness, Anthony watched everything unfold and Daphne nervously bounced her baby boy on her knee.
"Daphne, do not fret. His sister will love you." Anthony tried to reassure his sister.
"What if she's like their father? What if she heard all the rumours about us and judges me for it? Simon has never spoken of her, I have no idea what to expect."
"I met Simon's sister many, many years ago. She was nothing like the things you are dreading. (Y/N) was a lovely, respectable young lady, I'm sure she hasn't changed."
Daphne let a small smile grace her face, trying to convince herself that everything was fine. Simon had kept his family such a secret, she just wanted to ensure that his sister would want to stay and be part of theirs.
Simon playfully rolled his eyes as (Y/N) asked how she looked, not in vain, but in anxiety. Her dress was beautiful, her hair perfectly in place, her jewels glistened but they weren't ghastly, nothing was wrong. Her nerves were getting the better of her. Just as she was about to ask again, the carriage stopped. Simon chuckled at her panicked look, already stepping outside.
He held out his hand for her."You'll be absolutely fine. Just be you."
(Y/N) took a deep breath before taking her brother's hand, being extra cautious to not fall on her face, especially since the entire Bridgerton family were stood on their front steps.
As head of the household, Anthony was ready to start introductions, until (Y/N) lifted her head, showing her dazzling features. He had only admitted to himself that he had a fancy for her when he was younger, though who wouldn't? She was beautiful, smart and didn't try hard to impress anyone; she was just joyful to be around. (Y/N) had never pined for Anthony or tried to grab his attention at every moment, or any man for that matter. He definitely considered her a friend, he was somewhat angry at himself he hadn't written to her over the years. But seeing her now, it was a mystery as to why she hadn't been married yet? That was quickly solved when he remembered Simon was her brother.
Simon stuck beside his sister until Daphne stepped forward. They shared a short but loving kiss, before Simon took their son into his arms, cooing and laughing as the baby gurgled. (Y/N)'s heart melted at the sight.
"Oh, how we've missed you." Violet beamed, greeting her son-in-law.
"I apologise for the delay, the weather was not suitable for travelling. Nevertheless, everyone, this is my sister, (Y/N) Basset."
(Y/N) curtsied as all eyes were on her."Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home. I have been so excited to meet you all."
"Well, why don't we go inside? We can have proper introductions in the warm." Daphne hid her nerves, presenting herself well.
Everyone agreed, leading (Y/N) inside. The family lined up like soldiers, with Anthony stepping forward to introduce everyone.
"I hope I don't have to reintroduce myself." he teased.
"Of course not, how could I forget you, Anthony? After all the trouble you and Simon got into?"
He chuckled, but cast a worried look towards his mother. He quickly continued.
"My mother, Violet, sisters Daphne, Eloise and Hyacinth, and my brothers, Benedict, Colin and Gregory."
"And your nephew." Simon added.
(Y/N) reached out a finger for the baby to hold."Yes, he's bigger than I thought he would be."
"Children do grow so fast." Violet said.
"But you're here now to see him grow." Daphne quickly added. "And we're all very happy that you're finally here."
Everyone knew that it was Simon who had kept (Y/N) away. He loved his sister with all his heart, which is why he never saw her; she was living a happy life, he didn't want to dampen that.
"The chefs have prepared a marvelous lunch. The table is all set if you are hungry now?" Voilet asked.
"Oh, yes, as long as everyone else is."
As soon as (Y/N) agreed, Colin, Eloise and the two youngest were off. They were starving, even though they had eaten only a few hours ago. (Y/N) giggled to the relief of the others. They slowly followed behind, but Simon was hesitant. (Y/N) gently nudged him forward.
"Go, see your family. I have all the time in the world to get to know Daphne."
Simon thanked her, still carrying his son as his other arm wrapped around his wife. Another arm appeared in front of (Y/N), ready for her to take it.
"May I escort you to the table?" Anthony said.
"Thank you, I much appreciate it."
They both knew they were being dramatic, though it was sweet of Anthony to make the gesture.
"How many years has it been?"
"Too many."
"I'm sorry your brother hasn't involved you. If the...situation between him and Daphne had been different, I know you would have been here straight away."
"I know. And I understand how stressful that all was. But as said before, I'm here now. I must say Anthony, I have missed you."
"Really? Even after all those times Simon and I riled you?"
"Yes. Although annoying, you both had your tender moments. I remember one evening, you and Simon were returning from your club, and you both had found yourselves in a quarrel with some other members. They followed you home, and I was waiting by the back gate to sneak you back inside. They were closer than expected, and do you remember some of the horrible things they said to me?"
"Unfortunately I do. And I unfortunately remember what happened next."
"It was very chivalrous for you to defend me, though you needn't have fought. Your nose wouldn't stop bleeding!"
"But you were right by my side, holding a handkerchief for me."
"Yes, because if you got blood on the carpets, you would have something worse than a bruised nose."
The pair were laughing to themselves as they walked into the dining room. Most were already seated. Anthony guided (Y/N) to her chair, next to Simon, who stood to tuck it in, but Anthony beat him to it. Simon watched his friend's moves very closely, knowing deep down that Anthony was just being polite; however, he wasn't too fond that they were sat opposite each other, able to gaze into each others eyes.
Simon tapped his glass with a knife once everyone was sat, standing with said glass in his hand."Before we begin eating, I would like to propose a toast."
Everyone immediately grabbed their own glasses, except Eloise, taking her time as she huffed; couldn't they at least toast after the meal?
"To my sister, (Y/N). I am so happy that you're here with me, with us. I'm sorry I haven't been a better brother but that will change now. And I can't wait for you to get to know this loving family, who made me one of their own, as I know they will you."
"To family." Benedict finished.
"To family." Everyone cheered.
"Now the food. Please." Eloise needed a plate in front of her.
All through lunch, Simon kept a close eye on his sister and Anthony. He was awful at keeping up with conversations, slow at eating, he just had a weird feeling when he glanced at them both. Simon constantly apologised to Daphne, blaming the long journey for his daydreaming.
However, Anthony and (Y/N) might as well have been dining at their own table. They were in full conversation, of course others chimed in to join, but they couldn't stop reflecting on the past and laughing. It was impossible to not notice how well they were getting along, and Violet had a glint in her eye as she saw how much Anthony was smiling. He never smiled this much, and the way he was looking at (Y/N) reminded her of how her husband used to look at her.
After dinner, they retired to the drawing room, sipping on fresh lemonade as Hyacinth showed off her new skill on the piano. Simon sat with his child in his lap, Daphne by his side, and although he was thoroughly enjoying the time with his family, he couldn't stop gazing over at his sister.
Unsurprisingly, (Y/N) and Anthony were cosied up, still smiling ear to ear as they continued talking. How could they have so much to talk about?
"Let's put him to bed Simon, for a nap. He's getting fussy." Daphne interrupted his thoughts.
Simon didn't want to cause a scene, agreeing to put their son down together. Even as they left the room, Simon's eyes lingered, and he immediately became tense once they were out of sight.
"Has my brother dazzled you?"
Simon was quiet as he laid down his son."Hm?"
"Well you haven't stopped staring at him all night."
He sighed."Was I that obvious?"
"You were indeed. Would it be so bad?"
"What?"
"Would it be so bad if my brother loved your sister?"
"Daphne-"
"Has he been disrespectful? Has he done her wrong? Has he done anything that we did?"
He was stumped. Although his brotherly instincts were kicking in, wanting to protect (Y/N), realistically he knew Anthony would never hurt her. Anthony was trustworthy, he knew him inside out and just from tonight, there was something there.
Simon didn't reply, but Daphne knew he wasn't ignoring her. She could see him thinking it all over as he walked to the window.
"It's only good news depending on how you look at it."
"I know, but it will be fine-"
"No, look!"
Daphne quickly joined her husband at the window, trying to see what he was looking at. Down in the gardens was Anthony and (Y/N) taking a stroll. The pair were lit by the setting sun which was casting a beautiful orange and pink glow across the garden. Although they had not stopped talking through the afternoon, now they were silent, both silently worrying that the other had no more to say.
"(Y/N)-"
"Anthony-"
The spoke at the same time, pausing for a moment before laughing. Anthony said nothing, being a gentleman and letting (Y/N) speak.
"I was just going to say how much I have enjoyed our time together. It feels as if no time has passed since the last time I saw you."
"How long will you stay?"
"Sorry?"
"Well, are you staying for a short visit? Or perhaps an extended time?"
"Simon and I have not discussed that as of yet. I am to be staying with a friend of mine who lives in the Ton, so I shall be here for a little while."
Anthony couldn't help but smile."Good, that is good news."
They were quiet again as they continued walking, only taking small steps as they wee nearing the end of the garden. They were standing close to one another, and although they had linked arms before and been sat on the plush sofas, this held more tension. Perhaps it was the way neither of them wanted to startle the other, despite their desperate want for affection. As their minds drifted off to where this was leading, their hands ever so delicately brushed. Both were startled, halting their steps and looking at each other.
"My apologies-"
"Anthony, it's fine. I...I just wouldn't have expected this."
Anthony thought for a moment, glancing down at their hands that were no longer close. He didn't like it. He wanted to be bold and take the next step, even if it was just holding one another's hand. But this was Simon Basset's sister. And it was (Y/N), who he had the upmost respect for.
"Miss Basset?"
"Anthony, why are you calling me that?"
"May I enquire into the address of your new lodgings?"
"Yes? Why?"
"So that I may call on you in the morning?"
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Text
Darlin’, Darlin’
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Pairing(s): Jacob Black x Swan!Reader, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan
Warnings: wolf imprinting, scenting, makeout, agedup!jacob, hurt&comfort, one night stands, changed it a little bit from the prompt, renee being a crap mom, sorry i tend to write her in a negative light but i have never been able to stand her character 😅, plus i have my own unresolved mommy issues lol 😅 , mention of alcohol consumption, reader smokes, unprotected sex just imagine reader being on birth control, flings, virgin!jacob, losing that v card, kinda bitchy reader?
Words: 4818
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Stepping one foot out of your taxi, you finally take in the sight of the Cullen residence. Just to make sure, you double check the address that was on the wedding invitation.
Yup, this was the place.
Already there's festive laughter streaming out of the house. Some people lingered on the large wrap-around porch, talking amongst one another.
You weren't looking forward to the wedding but your mother called and pestered you enough to where you just gave up and sent in your RSVP despite your reservations. It wasn't that you didn't like Bella, you just never liked the idea of marriage. Your mom had failed at several before. In the end you always wondered what the point of it all was.
And a wedding in your mind was the most absurd thing to waste one's money on. Especially one as extravagant as this one. You surmise that the Cullens obviously were the ones to foot the wedding bill. Neither Charlie nor Renee would have the funds to put together a glittery wonderland like this one.
Readjusting the skirt of your dress, you walk up the steps, bombarded by the loud music and chatter. You were already regretting going through with it when you weave through the throng of people in the house. Unfamiliar faces that stare at you in your trek to find Renee. Though really you just wanted to fist a few drinks into you first. Your mom wouldn't be happy if you got drunk so early. It would definitely lighten your mood, but you shake off any thoughts of libations.
After asking around, you learn she's upstairs helping the bride get ready.
Fine paintings were displayed on the wall as you take one step at a time. They look to be originals too. Not that you knew much about art. The paintings were beautiful regardless. Everything about the Cullen house was meticulously perfect. A wonder how your clumsy sister was marrying into this atmosphere.
You follow a gaggle of female voices to a closed bedroom door. When you knock, a short pixie of a girl opens it with startling gold eyes. "You must be Bella's sister!" She's open and inviting, tugging you by the arm inside of the room.
Renee calls over to you, delighted at your presence. "You made it!" She throws her arms around you, suffocating your nose with her strong perfume. Like with most of your family, you were never close to Renee. The moment you were accepted into a university away from her, you leapt on the opportunity and never looked back.
She steers you to where Bella is standing in front of a floor length mirror that reflects her image. Her wedding gown was sleek and not as terrible as you first imagined it to be. When was the last time you'd seen her? Probably not since your own senior year in Arizona.
Her dark eyes round at your appearance, definitely not expecting you to be there.
"Hey Bella. Congratulations." Your lips quirk up in a small smile that hides your desire to not be there. This is what you had to do in front of your family. Put on a mask and pretend you were happy to see them. You felt awkward in that room, knowing your interaction was being watched by the pixie girl, your mom and an unknown blonde woman who was drop dead gorgeous.
Her thin lips part in a struggle to gather any useful words. "Th-Thanks." It was clear she didn't really know how to act around you either.
You shoot an anxious look to your mom as if to say 'See, I did what you wanted me to do now let me free.' Ridiculous how you still looked to her for any guidance even though she would offer you none. Renee merely sighs and nods her head toward the door.
Relief makes the warmth in your face cool down as you give Bella an awkward wave goodbye before hightailing it out and back down the stairs. The rest of the house was no better. Your claustrophobia starting to get the best of you as you desperately try to elbow your way to the backyard for some fresh air. It was so stuffy in there. The lack of fresh air flow was really starting to get to you.
That's when you bump into someone- well honestly you thought it was a wall by how sturdy and hard the person's body was. Wobbling backwards, you're grateful that at least the body you bumped into had faster reflexes than you. A large, tan hand grips at your wrist to pull you back up and stabilize your posture.
You stare up into a handsome face with penetrating dark eyes. His jaw slackens, whatever he was going to say. Pure shock ripples across his face.
"S-sorry about that." You apologize and brush off his hand, or at least try to. His grip on your wrist is incredibly strong. Furrowing your brows you look back up to him. "Um, excuse me. . ."
He blinks, snapping himself out of whatever stupor he'd been in. "Sorry. Sorry." His fingers reluctantly release your wrist, hovering over your skin until you pull your hand back to your chest. Cute and towering over you, you feel the anxiousness in your chest from the crowd subside. He doesn't move. Instead he introduces himself with a shallow breath. "I'm Jacob Black."
"Oh, Jacob Black. That name sounds familiar." You reply and give him your own name.
"You're Bella's sister." Jacob states but his voice still held a bit of confusion.
You awkwardly chuckle. "Yeah, that's me." The intense way he's looking at you has you slightly uneasy. "How do you know Bella?"
"We. . ." he clears his throat, finally averting his gaze from you. "We're friends. I live on the reservation. Charlie and my dad are best friends."
Trying to remember your childhood with Charlie, nothing comes up. When your parents split, initially you lived with him. But being a small kid alone at night while he was working wasn't really ideal. After a while it was decided that you should be with Renee and Bella. It must have seemed like the best option. Honestly you were screwed with either parent.
"Since you've been in the loop," from your peripheral you notice a waiter carrying around a tray of drinks (thank god they were serving alcohol before the ceremony) "what is Bella's fiancee like?"
That sours his face. Jacob doesn't bother to try and hide his dislike for this guy that was marrying your sister. His lips squirm but he couldn't conjure any positive words. "He's. . . well, I don't trust him."
"Why? Does he mistreat her?"
"Well-"
"Oh!" You smile when you connect the dots. "You like Bella, don't you?"
He's slightly loud now. "No!! No, I-I don't like her. I mean, I did, but not anymore, obviously."
Was it obvious though? The way he was yammering on made it all too obvious that he still had feelings for her. You watch him suffer, occasionally taking a sip of your champagne. When he winds himself out, he mutters one more apology. Jacob's face a beet red. You just chuckle.
"No need to apologize. Guess it was my bad. I don't know much about Bella. We've never been close. I was just curious."
Around you, the flow of guests was starting to congregate to the backyard. "I think it's time." You take one more sip and set aside your champagne flute.
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At the reception, you again find yourself outside on the front porch. Her husband (and his family) were quite honestly the most beautiful people you'd ever set your gaze on. And they seemed to genuinely love Bella. You just hope that her marriage lasts longer than any of Renee's.
Next to you on the front step was another cocktail. Your fingers were occupied with holding up your cigarette. Watching the slow dance of the smoke curling upward. It was a beautiful evening, you'd give them that.
Having said hello to Charlie a few minutes ago, all of your duties here were over. You'd stay in the little rinky dink motel that Forks has tonight then head back to your actual home.
Snuffing out the stubby remnants of your cigarette, you toss back the rest of your drink and fish your phone out of your jacket pocket.
You're about to call a taxi before you hear the creaking of the porch's floorboards behind you. Twisting around to see Jacob Black leaning against the wooden column. "Heading out so soon?"
All honesty, he was cute. A year or two younger than you, Jacob was like a giant in comparison to Bella's now husband. More muscular too.
"Yeah. I have to go back to work the day after tomorrow." You won't tell him just how eager you were to return even if that meant you had to work. Anything was better than be surrounded by strangers. "I have a motel room for the night though. Gonna call a taxi."
"I can give you a ride, if you want. It'll probably take a taxi time to get up here." Jacob looks down the narrow, winding road that was the only one to lead up to the Cullen estate.
"Really?"
There's a ripple of relief in his gaze and the spreading of his smile. "Of course. You wanna go now?"
Arching a brow, you look around him to the front door where inside was the warmth of celebration. "You don't want to stay?"
His nose scrunches up. "Nah. There's nothing left for me in there."
Weird way to put it but you shrug it off and follow Jacob to a little red Volkswagen car that, while being on the older side of vehicles, appeared to be well maintained. Definitely didn't match any of the other fancy looking cars lining the Cullen's driveway. You're surprised they didn't hire a valet.
Pure magic the way Jacob maneuvers his car around all of the others without hitting any of them. Watching it made you nervous so you'd squeezed your eyes tight, listening to Jacob chuckle.
A good thing about Forks was that it wasn't a big town. And the motel was the only local one in the town.
"I appreciate this. Can I give you money for gas?" You lean back into the worn cushions of the seat.
"Don't worry about it." He just waves you off. The lightness in his voice doesn't match the anxious drumming of his fingers against the wheel. You frown at the behavior, tucking it away in the back of your mind. Your nature was to be untrustworthy of people. Especially those you've just met.
"Why did you go to Bella's wedding?"
"Because she invited me. And. . . as much as I hate him, Bella's still my friend."
That was sweet but the ceremony must have been a dagger in his heart, another reminder that the girl he loved could never be his.
'Why did you go to her wedding? You looked like the whole thing was actual torture." Jacob turns your question against yourself. "You even said that you aren't close with Bella."
"Obligation. My mother paid for a plane ticket to come to the wedding without my knowledge. Really laid that guilt heavy when she said the ticket was expensive." You roll your eyes when you remembered that phone call. "And I guess it's the least I can do as the older sister. Just show up."
A lull in conversation settles until Jacob brings up "So you probably won't be coming back any time soon. . . That's a shame. . ."
You shrug. "There really isn't a reason for me to stay. My life isn't here."
The drinks you previously consumed were beginning to make your tummy warm and your morals. . . well, loose. You start really taking in Jacob's side profile, his defined cheekbones and full lips. The muscles that are roped in his neck. Were you really entertaining the idea of sleeping with Bella's sloppy seconds?
You bite your bottom lip, fighting against the ache you feel between your legs. It had been a while since you'd last had a good rutting. But you felt that this guy, no matter how sexy he appeared, was a virgin. That was something you didn't want to deal with. You wanted a man who knew what he was doing.
Reigning in your drunk horniness, you turn your head to stare back out the window. No, you definitely didn't want to have another reason to come back here.
Quiet the rest of the way to the motel, you watch the neon sign grow closer as Jacob pulled into the pebbly parking lot. You stretch and grab your bag from between your feet.
"Thanks again for the ride. Are you sure you don't want any money for gas?"
Why did he look like a sad puppy?
"Like I said, it's alright. But. . . Can I get your number instead?"
You feel your brows shoot up and you know you must have a ridiculous expression. "My number? What for?"
His cheeks tinge with warmth as Jacob peels his eyes away from you. Yup, definitely a virgin.
"I'd. . . I'd like to get to know you." Was all he could mumble out.
Damn he was making it too easy for you.
An impish curl to your lips. "You can still get to know me. Want to come inside for a little bit?" The implication was too obvious that even Jacob was able to catch on your meaning.
Poor thing is stammering, conflicted with saying yes but the sweet part of him wanted to reject your offer. You really didn't think he would agree but enjoyed the shock he got from your words.
Letting him sit in the car perplexed, you open the car door and bid him goodnight.
It only took a second before you heard footsteps right behind you. You felt his body heat at your back when you open your motel room door. The lights were still on, the way you left them, at least casting a warm glow over the meager furniture in the room. You set your bag down on the chair and finally turn around to face Jacob.
He's blushing terribly, unable to hide his nerves and you take pity on him.
"You can sit down, ya know." you chuckle and he obediently sits on the edge. "You said you wanted to get to know me more, right?" Crouching down, you open the mini fridge that the motel offered. Having already stashed away some items you bought at the liquor store. Fingers crack open the can.
Jacob's gaze fires something inside of you. His blush was intense but it didn't compare to the heat in his eyes. A small blush of your own actually tinges your face. "Yeah. I did. Like what's your favorite color or your favorite food?" His smile would flood any girl's panties.
You hide your giggle by taking a sip from your can. "Hmm, those are real stumpers." The more the both of you joked around, the more tension that leaves Jacob's frame. Sitting next to him he's now comfortable enough to scoot closer to you so that your bodies are pressed together.
In a rather sneaky way, Jacob had stolen your can of beer and was drinking from it too. Well, now you couldn't have him driving back home tonight with a good conscious.
And just as the alcohol was starting to warm him too, his hands grew bold and traveled from resting on your thigh to your waist and higher until you were pressed against his chest. Jacob's kiss overflows with passion and lust that completely takes your breath away. He's definitely kissed before, that much was certain.
His skin nearly scalds under your fingers as they find themselves gripping the soft cotton material of his button up.
This was a new Jacob that you hadn't seen. Was he keeping this part hidden deep down all along?
Hot hands hike up the hem of your dress, impatient to rove the skin of your upper thighs. He palms the soft, squishy flesh of the insides of your thighs before pausing near the elastic band of your panties. He's groaning to himself, knowing what lay beyond the flimsy fabric. Just to verify for yourself, you grind yourself against the tent of his pants. Jacob shivers and given your unvoiced permission, his fingers pull aside your underwear.
His face is hidden in the crook of your neck, lips nipping at the juncture of your jaw. It makes your head tilt back to give him more access. Jacob growls in appreciation, thick fingers playing with your wet pussy lips. You squirm, wanting him inside of you but he was strong and kept you at bay. If this was indeed his first time then Jacob was in no rush. Like he wanted to memorize through the touch of his fingers each intimate part of you.
Nose nuzzling the soft skin of your throat, inhaling deeply. A finger grazes over your swollen clit making you jump from the sudden contact. Your little whine just makes his cock harder. Jacob chokes on his own moan and glides over your clit again.
Most men wouldn't even know where the clit is. Especially virgins. Jacob seemed to find it right away and liked how this small button of nerves could send you into a spasming fit.
As much as you want to regain control, your head is swimming from the attention he's giving your body. Eager hands and lips.
Jacob becomes slack jawed when he finally inserts a finger past your sopping folds. "Oh fuck"
He keeps whispering 'fuck fuck fuck' as his finger slides in and out, helped by your pooling arousal coating it. Your mewling is cut short though and turns into a cry of dismay when he removes his hand completely to examine his glistening digits. Bringing it up his lips, he sniffs it and you swear a dark possessiveness seizes his expression. Jacob licks his fingers and thumb clean.
While he's distracted, you scramble to fling your clothes off; skin burning up with desire. When you look back at him, his eyes are now glued to your naked form.
"Come on. You're turn." You grin and lean back against the pillows on the bed.
So obedient, Jacob nearly rips his shirt to shreds. The buttons were but an obstacle to him now.
Boy were you delighted to see his sculpted body. His abs and cum gutters that were oh so prominent. And once his pants were removed-
How was this guy still a virgin??
You've been with your share of men, but none of them had a cock as thick as a beer can. Damn near hypnotized watching it as he crawls on the bed and slots himself in between your open legs. Something animalistic on his face as he grabs your legs and throws them over his broad shoulders. Going by pure instinct, the bulb of Jacob's cock is dragged along your begging slit, experimentally bullying the tip inside.
Once he had the tip in, he snaps his hips harshly, piercing you and stretching out the walls of your pussy with his thick cock.
Now you're the one chanting 'fuck fuck fuck' repeatedly as he gives you no time to adjust. Now that he's inside of you, Jacob can't help but devour you entirely. Fingers digging into your plush skin as he holds onto you tightly. The tight squeeze your pussy offered his cock was driving him inside so that he mercilessly pounded into you. You enjoy every second, every ram his cock tip dealt your cervix. It was impossible for a virgin to fuck you this good and this dumb but there you were just a screaming mess. Absolutely no thoughts in your head, only focusing on the stretch the width of his cock gives you.
You try your best to buck against him, to reciprocate every pleasure he gave you but it was laborious to keep up with him. So you just let him use you as a fuck doll.
You wanted to be fucked into oblivion.
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Jacob had a rude awakening the following morning, not just due to the slight headache that was ringing in his brain, but because when he reached over for the warm body he thought was next to him there was only cold bed sheets.
He peels his eyes open to find the bed completely empty besides himself. There was a piece of paper with black inked writing. It had an apology. You were running late to your flight and apologized.
But no number.
Staring at it for a moment, Jacob sighs, running a hand over his face. He just couldn't believe what he'd done last night. Worse was you'd left no number.
Really, he couldn't help himself once he'd imprinted on you. That was sealing the fate of the night. Especially when he smelled your arousal. Fuck, he was just hoping to be invited to stay with you. Though he didn't quite believe it at first when you'd offered him to come inside your room. He would've done anything in the moment to stay a little longer with you.
The alcohol wasn't what really urged him on once he got going, it was the wolf in him. To claim and. . . Jacob blushes to admit it, but to breed too. All instinctual, of course. He wasn't ready for kids and clearly you weren't either. But that's what his wolf was howling at him to do.
It was embarrassing to admit that at the end of the day, his wolf really did control him.
He runs away from his own thoughts by reading your note again, overly focusing on the lack of number. Anxious thoughts sweep him up in a smashing wave.
Pressure upon his chest makes him feel like he can't breathe. Repressing the urge to shapeshift into a stronger form that would allow him to really express the anguish he was feeling. It hurt when Bella rejected him. The hurt had stayed with him up until he'd spotted you.
He thought it cruel kismet that you turned out to be Bella's sister. Who would blame him though? No one has seen you in Forks since you were small. And Bella never spoke of you either. To him, you'd only been an urban legend with only a handful of pictures as shaky evidence.
This explains everything though. Why he was drawn to Bella. She would eventually lead him to who he really belonged with. You.
The animal in him gnashes it's teeth together, growling for it's imprintee, it's mate.
If only Jacob knew.
Find her.
Find her.
Find her.
A constant bark in his mind until he leapt from the bed and got dressed. He couldn't silence it until he obeyed. Finding his cellphone drained of battery. Jacob curses his past self for not charging it prior to the wedding. He'd have to wait to call Bella and hopefully she would answer on her honeymoon.
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You frown at the unknown number that had your phone ringing. Since you were at work, you ignore it.
At first.
Four more calls sets you at your limit until you excuse yourself and go into the hall to answer it. "Hello?"
"You're a piece of work, you know that?! Showing up to my wedding without speaking to me for years?!"
"You invited me! And mom made me!" You snap, knowing who it was. Bella. What was she doing calling you? She was supposed to be on her honeymoon with her perfect husband. Renee must have given her your number. "What is it? What's so important that you pulled me away from work?"
"How could you do that to Jacob? You fuck him a-and then just leave without anything?!" You remember that stutter from childhood. It always got worse when Bella was upset.
Grinding your molars, you make sure to lower your voice so you weren't heard from your coworkers. "I left a note explaining that I would be late to my flight."
You hear her derisive scoff "But no contact information! Was he just a fling to you? A-A boy toy?!!"
The laugh left you before you could stop it.
"You think this is funny?!"
Cackling now, you have to take a deep breath to settle yourself. "Oh my god I don't think I've heard anyone say that in years!"
That adds heat to her tone. "You can't use people like that!!"
"I didn't use him. For god's sake Bella, we had a good time and that was that. I told him I didn't have anything left in Forks. Gave him plenty of opportunities to leave. I didn't force-"
"He-he REALLY likes you. And you just tossed him aside! That night meant more to him than you could possibly know!"
Maybe you should have been more considerate. But your jaded side was strong, having been fucked over by guys one too many times before. Some of them virgins too. Fuck you didn't want to say Bella was right.
"He can't be that upset that I dashed without leaving him a number. We hardly know each other. He'll find someone else now that he has the confidence that he could even get a girl."
Bella goes silent for a moment. You hear soft whispers in the background, most likely Edward. She returns to you with a frustrated huff. "Look, just- please call him or better yet go see him. I've never expected much from you, but you have to see him again. Please."
This was the only thing she's really asked for from you.
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You called him when you got home, heavily apologizing because it was most possibly the best sex of your life if you were being completely honest. And he deserved an explanation on why you'd left without giving him your number. "It wasn't anything you did, really. I'm just kinda a shitty person. I'm really sorry. . . I should've been more empathetic. I remember when I lost my virginity-"
"Oh god. Th-that's not the reason why I wanted your number. I didn't just want to screw you. I. . ." You listen to him gulp. Jacob takes a deep breath. On the other end, unbeknownst to you, was Jacob pacing back and forth at a rest stop near where your city was in. He'd never meant for it to sound like he was tattling to Bella and butt-hurt. All he asked was for your number before she countered demanding a reason why. He was completely honest with her. She blew up at him over the phone to the point he had to hold his cellphone at arm's length. Bella hung up immediately once she was done. Probably to call you. Apparently she hadn't told you about the whole wolves and imprinting thing.
Using what scent was left on his shirt, he'd strapped his shorts and shirt to his leg and shifted to his wolf to track you down. It may have been extreme, but by the time he'd gotten Bella to answer her phone he was already at his wit's end. He knew he may have come off as a creep by doing this. This was an itch he desperately needed to satisfy. The wolf in him demands to know where you'd gone.
He couldn't say that to you. That would make him sound downright demented.
"I would just really like to know you. For real. Not just your favorite color or food. I want to know that too, but I want to really know you." God did he sound lame? Jacob thought what he just said was totally lame.
"You sure? You may not like what you find." There's a hint of sadness.
"I'm positive."
Setting up another date, you put down your phone with a tender smile. Maybe. . . Maybe this wouldn't be like all the other times. He sounded sincere. And no one else has gone to the trouble of getting your number from anyone.
You just hope you weren't making a big mistake.
Grabbing your cigarette and lighter, you head outside onto your small porch.
You put it between your lips while your thumb fumbles with the lighter's sparkwheel. A crunching sound a few feet away from you makes you pause. The cigarette falls from your lips as you stare into large brown eyes stare at you from a break of trees. Russet fur was highlighted by the street light that was near. You didn't think wolves were capable of growing to such a size. This thing was gargantuan.
There's not an air of danger around it. The wolf merely wags it's tail, snout shaping into what you could only describe as a grin before it pads back off into the night.
You smile to yourself. "Wow."
It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
Perhaps a good omen.
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@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan
@bakugospartner
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starryschoolgirl · 7 months
Text
Elusive Engagement
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a Baby Love snippet - Circa: March, 1968
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Summary -> When the news leaks to the press about your upcoming wedding, Elvis holds his own interrogation which wreaks havoc within his entourage. But you're told not to worry your pretty little head about it, however you can't help when you have a hunch that the leak came from your family.
Warnings -> It's only a little angsty, crying, throwing bottles, angry Elvis, misunderstandings, possible manipulation, disapproving mother-in-law, Roy Orbison makes a very short cameo
WC -> 2.5k
Thank you to that lovely anon who suggested making this newspaper thing, you have sparked a snippet you inspiring poet. And many thanks to Jeanie and Willow for helping me with the newspaper, lovely those ones.
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The shrill ring of the bedstand's telephone had been an abrupt and unpleasant wake up call to Elvis after a long night of playing piano keys and renting out a bowling alley. To be quite fair it wasn't that this caller was being rude, it was after all digging into the day, 1 or 2PM by Elvis' guess.
He drawled out a deeper than usual, "Mm hello?", rubbing his eyes with his free hand as he did so. The hand extended from his eyes to drag down the skin on his face tiredly, the pull of the skin would only serve to tug an eyelid open. 
A joyous voice had filled Elvis' ear, an old friend's voice,
"Now I knew you had a wedding coming but why didn't you tell me I was invited to your wedding? And why didn't you tell me I was gonna sang too apparently?"
Elvis' eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head in a tired confusion, his lips smacked before he mumbled, "Roy? Man what are you talkin' about..."
He shifted in the bed slightly and turned to your side, warmth was emanating off you, his personal little heater. Elvis pulled the cord of the telephone from the bedside table so that he wouldn't knock over anything on the table as he scooted closer to your sleeping figure.
Roy's laugh filled the line, it was loud and had a bit of a pitch to it in the way Roy's singing voice could have. Elvis pulled the telephone away from his ear as he settled next to you, placing a hand on your stomach for contact as he leaned his back against the bed's headboard.
As he ran his hand down your stomach to your thighs, his fingers absentmindedly tugging at the laced hem of your short nightie as he complained into the phone,
"It's too early in the mornin' for ya jokes boy, what's goin' on Orbison?"
The laughing on the other line had subsided as he realized Elvis really didn't know what was going on.
"Elvis, it's all over the papers here, ain't it on the papers in California? Your wedding, it’s been leaked..."
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As you awoke from your much needed slumber you reached for your favorite pillow on the bed, Elvis. Only, it seems Elvis wasn't in bed? Maybe if you reached further you’d feel him, he tended to roll around in his sleep.
After the first swipe around the bed your hand turned frantic as it searched for him, you quickly sat up just to see he was gone. You pulled a stray hair out of the corner of your mouth and tried to smooth your mussed up hair back to at least look presentable as you scooted to his side of the bed, the warmth of his body long gone and now just a cold bunch of sheets and blankets.
The pads of your bare feet against the wood floor filled the room as you walked to grab your robe, it was a very chilly March morning, then again every morning was as Elvis had an obsession with keeping the house cold.
You felt very carefree as you wandered through the upstairs hall of the Hollywood home you and Elvis had been residing in, you didn't hear the loud guffaws and crude jokes of Elvis' entourage, dubbed as the Memphis Mafia, so you hoped that meant you could enjoy a sweet domestic morning with Elvis.
Just the thought excited you as you let your robe flutter open while you pranced down the stairs girlishly looking for your fiancé. Just as you rounded the bottom of the stairs and steered yourself into the sunken living room you had seen Elvis in his usual dressy attire, his back was turned to you as he was facing another part of the room that you couldn't quite see yet.
Just as you were about to call his name, your feet finally landing onto the plush white carpet of the sunken room, Elvis’ voice boomed through the room as he yelled, “Speak Goddammit!!” His yell closely followed by a bottle that had flown across the room and shattered against the wall, your guess of it being a bottle had been confirmed as fizzy brown liquid began to drizzle down the wall that had intercepted the bottle. The sound that had filled the air as it shattered had made you jump and squeal from the shock.
Elvis' broad shoulders had turned at the noise of your distress and your eyes shot around the room in a bit of panic, Elvis' friends were here, but instead of being their usual joyous, loud selves they were quietly standing straight with blank faces, like soldiers in trouble with their drill sergeant. 
They were in trouble with Elvis, and if that couldn't be told from the way they all stood with sunken expressions, then the way a few of them remained in a flinched stance from the bottle being hurled just inches from their heads was the giveaway.
You made eye contact with Jerry for a split second before he looked away, when you tried to make eye contact with the others they only looked away as well, then you turned to a fast-approaching Elvis.
He hadn’t yet shaved and his hair looked to still be tussled from sleep. Your wide eyes softened slightly at his facial expression, he looked upset, you could tell by the way his jaw clenched and his nose was just slightly scrunched in a way that only someone who was often close to his resting face could tell.
Your voice was soft and questioning as you reached a shaky hand up to smooth back his hair, “Elvis..?”
You then realized why the others wouldn’t look at you, especially with Elvis in this mood.
Before you could say anything else you watched as his hands found the sides of your robe, pulling the sides together to hide your figure. You’d felt an embarrassed heat spread up your neck as you realized Elvis’ friends had just seen you in your short nightie, and with the cold air of the room, they no doubt saw the two little hardened details of your chest that Elvis liked to admire most.
You let out a breath as he tied the string of your robe especially tight.
“Elvis, what’s the matter?”
Elvis sighed, his hardened expression softening just for your eyes as his back was now turned to the other guys, he shook his head for a moment while staring down at the floor. Now you felt worried, you brought a hesitant hand up to cup his cheek as you murmured softly,
“Can I help in any way?”
He cracked a little smile at the question and placed his hand over yours as he turned his cheek to kiss it. With his unshaved cheek rubbing against your hand you felt the slightest tickle, and any hesitance or fear you might’ve housed for a moment was out the window as you couldn’t help your giggle at the sensation.
The sweet noise only served as a reminder to Elvis that he had a duty as a man to handle it on his own, and not have you worry your pretty little head about anything.
Elvis’ hands rested at your waist and he leaned down to kiss your cheek and murmured against the skin close to your ear, “No little one, why don’tchu you head right on upstairs, be up there in a minute with ya alright? Just talkin’ with the boys”
He pulled back for you to see his little encouraging smile, to which you returned tenfold with your own sweet grin.
As you headed back down the hall that led to the stairs the house was silent and as you had left sight of the room you could hear Elvis saying something quietly but couldn’t quite make it out. You wanted to but at the same time you didn’t see the point, Elvis was handling his business, therefore it was none of yours. As you reached the staircase you noticed paper placed on the first stair.
Of course your eyes glazed over it as you were taking a step up the stairs and just as you had passed it, the headline finally hit you smack dab in the face.
“ELVIS PRESLEY TO BE MARRIED IN JUNE”
Your eyes widened, and you quickly bent down to grab it, taking slow steps up the stairs as you read the contents. 
A close source had revealed the upcoming wedding? Who could that be? Is that why Elvis was so angry downstairs? No one was supposed to know until after.
As you had reached the top of the stairs you had to lean against the wall and think, a million thoughts going through your brain as to why one of the people close to Elvis would reveal it. They’d risk losing more than they’d gain. Elvis didn’t like people who couldn’t keep their trap shut about his personal business.
There were even a few times where Elvis had stepped up to his manager, Mr. Parker, because the man wanted to release some information to the press about you and Elvis to keep his name before the public due to his movie career going down the toilet.
That argument didn’t end well as Elvis had almost gotten the two of them sued by refusing to participate in a project unless Mr. Parker promised not to go to the press for publicity, as Elvis didn’t want your name being dragged in the mud. Those journalists often found a way to make anyone, even someone Elvis deemed as saintly and perfect as you, seem like last month’s garbage.
But a thought that seemed to reoccur in your brain at the moment was the worry that the leak came from your side. After all, your family didn’t approve of this union. Especially your mother.
No, she wouldn’t do that, would she?
Your body remained stiff even though you felt as if you were buzzing all over, this vibration in your stomach, mixing and stirring your stomach acids all around.
This could all be your fault. Those guys could all be paying for your own mother’s actions. It was enough to make you feel a little sick.
You kept a hand on the wall as you wandered down the hall to your and Elvis' shared bedroom, your steps grew faster as you heard a bang and Elvis yelling at one of the guys, as if your growing guilt would tackle you to the floor if you slowed down.
Once you made it to the room you closed the door behind you, and with the newspaper still in hand you sat on Elvis’ side of the bed, turning the rotary dial to your mother’s number.
After a few rings and a shaky breath you heard a familiar voice say “Hello”, it was Rienne, one of the maids.
You tried to remain composed, heeding your mother’s lesson that if you weren’t composed around the help, they wouldn’t respect you.
“R-Rienne, is mother home?”
Your palm felt sweaty as you nervously clenched your free hand into a fist, biting your lip to keep it from enacting its nervous quiver.
“Cosette, is that you? Oh how are you Dearie?”
“Rienne, please is my mother home?”
There was a short pause before Rienne answered with a yes, you spoke as softly as you could without stuttering, asking her to call for your mother. And when your mother finally did come to the phone she answered with a soft, quiet, “Cosette?”
Your lower lip wobbled as you spoke in a soft, quiet voice that almost completely mirrored your mother had it not been for the little crack at the end,
“It wasn’t you was it?”
As you were greeted with silence you brought your other hand up to clench the telephone nervously. Then your mother spoke once more,
“Setty, what ever do you mean?”
You breathed out wetly, allowing for vulnerability as you clenched the telephone as if you would your mother’s hand had she been here, “Th-The wedding, it’s in the papers Mommy”
More silence followed before your mother’s sympathetic voice, “Oh my love, I-”, she paused trying to find the right words, “Well, I-”
With her sudden loss of vocabulary your worry spiked and you questioned quickly, voice not raising in volume, only in distress, “It wasn’t you was it? Tell me it wasn’t please-”
“I told you not to get involved with that man, with men like him these things are bound to happen.”
You felt your eyes begin to burn slightly. You had almost worked yourself into tears from that last sentence. “You mean you didn’t leak-”
“Of course not my dear, why would Mommy do that to you?”
You wished you could see her, not only for the comfort she could offer, but also for the giveaway she could offer as well. You shared many traits with her, one of which being a giveaway for when you lie, and over the phone you really couldn’t tell. You wanted to believe her, you really did.
Suddenly her voice was much colder, as she instigated,
“Is that what that man has you thinking? Is he making you think that your mother and father are these big bad wolves? Figures, a man like him doesn’t have much to offer so he has to make it look like everyone else has even less to make someone stay. You know I warned you-”
The change of tone was abrupt, and the burning of your eyes violently increased from each syllable she spoke. Your eyes would be pools in no time.
“N-No Mommy, no he didn’t say anything, he-”
Your voice had caught in your throat. God you couldn’t do anything right, and now your mother is misunderstanding what a good man Elvis is. When you could finally speak, your nervous panic had left your voice so pathetically quiet that it came out like a choked whisper,
“He’s- No, I, it’s not that, I promise, I,”
Your mother cut in again with a scoff through the line, “It’s an isolation tactic my darling, he’s turning you against us. Goodness, why can’t you see that? I know I didn’t raise a stupid girl”
And just as it always had since you were a little girl, your voice gave out completely as you tried to explain yourself to your mother. The same way your mother’s voice would give out anytime she tried to explain something to your father. 
And as no noise would leave your throat, you would only be able to silently listen to your mother’s quiet voice that somehow even in a crowded room seemed louder and more present than any other person’s voice.
Despite its quiet softness, it could somehow often surpass Elvis’ loud harsh one.
Tears streaked down your cheeks as you sat on the bed and listened to her go on about what Elvis was doing to you, what it would be like when you finally married him. She topped it all off with how much someone can change when he goes from man to husband. And that you’ll regret it all in the end.
You bit your lower lip harshly to stop it’s quivering, and as her voice rang through your skull you didn’t even recognize the click of the door, or the sound of Elvis’ shoes striding closer and closer on the wood floor.
It was only when you felt a pull on the telephone did you look up to find someone else, Elvis. He looked at you with worry before mumbling into the line as if your mother were an afterthought, 
“Goodbye Mrs. Chevalier”
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That was so fun to write! I had a whole other part written but I figured if it's a snippet, it's best I keep it short eh? Goodness I just love writing for this universe, I'm having so much fun messing around with these two!
Thanks plenty for reading!! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this au feel free to just comment or message me!
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Taglist Lovelies: @fadedsummerlove, @lialocklear, @astral-eyed-cat, @suraemoon, @geanecore, @pinkpuffycloud, @s0phlabrunette, @that-hotdog
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mr2swap · 7 months
Text
wedding gift for "dad"
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I feel terrible about how things turned out for me and my son David, but there is nothing I can do now. All I can do is live the life David always wanted for himself and his husband, Andrew.
I met Andrew when he was just a little boy who used to come every afternoon to play with my son David, the two of them were inseparable so much that I came to consider Andrew as the second son I never had, the years passed, and I saw how Andrew and David became men, until that moment I never believed that there was more than friendship between them, they were always so fanatical of spending their afternoons training in the gym until long hours of the night, studying in long sleepovers that lasted all weekend week and rehearsing their choreographies for the dance club they were both enrolled in. I guess I should have seen the signs.
10 years ago while the whole family was together and David was next to him, he decided to tell us the truth, they had been secretly dating for so long that I almost choked on a mouthful of my wife's delicious meatloaf, they all seemed quite happy at that moment everyone except me.
I was so stupid back then that at that moment, I decided that the man in front of me was not my son anymore, I started treating him differently, I cut myself off from him and Andrew completely, damn it! I even felt sorry that everyone on our street knew about it before I did. I'm 59 years old, in my day all that shit was kept secret, of course there were gay people, but I never thought David would be one of them.
For the good of the family I decided to just ignore David, but when he and Andrew came to my house with an invitation to their wedding I just couldn't help myself anymore, I told David that I didn't agree with his lifestyle and if he wanted to be gay had to be done outside this house and forever, I wouldn't attend the wedding of two fagots, let alone let someone from my family know about it.
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From that moment I did not see David or Andrew again, until their wedding day, I was alone at home watching the football game on television, my wife had betrayed me and left me alone to go to the wedding from David and Andrew, I drank a six pack of beers just to forget today's wedding, but while you were watching the game something strange happened, I don't know if it was the effect of the beers or maybe the strange wish that my son made, I swear that In a simple blink that I lived in slow motion I was transported from the comfortable sofa in my house to a hotel room.
I looked around surprised because my living room had become an elegant room on the twelfth floor of a hotel, believing that I was in an extremely realistic dream, I looked at my hands, they were no longer old and wrinkled, now they were firm and young, my clothes I had also changed instead of a dirty tank top that highlighted my huge belly and yellowed boxer shorts I was now dressed in a fancy tuxedo, I looked down in surprise that my belly didn't obstruct my vision to see my feet which were now in a pair in elegant black shoes.
-This must be a dream…-
I said out loud and startled by the sudden change in the tone of my voice, something seemed familiar in that voice, but I didn't know what it was, I decided to believe that I was in a lucid dream thanks to all the pain that I normally suffered in my back and on my knees they disappeared, with my long and firm fingers I held my hard and firm pectorals, even the sensations on my skin were different and for some reason my nipples were also much more sensitive.
I kept using my fingers to highlight each of my muscles, I continued down towards my chiseled abs, surprised to find myself with the hardness of my muscles instead of a grotesque round belly, I looked to the sides trying to find a mirror, so I could see myself better, and luckily I found one that was on the other side of the huge hotel room.
When I first looked at my reflection, I immediately recognized the face that was now mine.
-AHHH!!!-
Indeed, that was not my face, it was the face of my son David, I fell backwards terrified by the impact of seeing my son again and at the same time knowing that I was him, I remained silent for a whole minute making movements slowly while crawling to the mirror my eyes did not take off for a single second from the reflection in the mirror that imitated each of my movements.
As I knelt in front of the mirror, I examined my son's mature handsome face, his perfectly trimmed beard, his whitened teeth, and his hair which I had recently painted black.
-What the fuck is… This?-
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I caressed my new face while making strange expressions with my son's face in the mirror, to verify that it was me who was there. Suddenly, from the other side of the room, the ringing of a telephone made me wake up from hypnosis in who was submerged while looking at my face.
I stood up and awkwardly walked to the phone now that I was aware of the vast difference between my obese body and the young body of my gay son.
Before I had the phone in my hands I looked at the number, immediately recognizing it was the number we had had in the house for years, less and less convinced that this was a dream, I picked up the phone and simply answered it.
-He-hello?-
For five long seconds that seemed like an eternity the phone remained silent, a hoarse and thick voice broke the silence in which we were.
-Dad are you?-
-Who speaks? David? for the love of god what's happening?-
-Oh shit! If you are the one in my body, I… I'm sorry, I think this is my fault.-
-David, where the hell are you? and where am i? why is this your fault?
I had to sit down for the long conversation we had that day, he doesn't know exactly what happened, he was just getting ready to go down to the reception and be on his wedding day, but it seems an unexpected gift arrived, from out of nowhere a mysterious gift appeared on the floor, it was in front of the door so I guess it was a gift from her future husband or maybe the reception had sent them something in gratitude for renting the ballroom, the gift box was simple and it only had a name on it.
From: Mr2 Swap
He thought the gift was a mistake, that it simply wasn't for him and one of the hotel workers had got the wrong room, but for some reason he couldn't leave the gift unopened, it was almost as if he was calling him .
When he finished dressing, the gift was still there and David could not resist the supernatural curiosity that invaded him, he took the gift in his hands and opened it, he was not expecting anything specific, but what the box contained surprised him, it was a simple golden ticket
"Valid for one wish"
David looked everywhere, but there were no more letters or signs of who had sent the ticket.
-A wish huh?… I just wish dad was here to see how I get married-
And after that we both woke up in each other's place, while there Disney was counting all this madness I looked everywhere even under the bed, but there was no ticket not even a gift box it was like after his wish was fulfilled would have vanished.
While I was still looking for some clues as to where that strange gift had gone, my wife also dressed in an elegant dress entered the room, as soon as I saw her I knew that she had to find out what had happened to me and David But the words wouldn't come out of my mouth no matter how hard I tried I couldn't say a single word about the exchange or about the real David now being drunk in my body thousands of miles from here.
-the wedding planner is waiting for you son, if you take longer on the phone, we will have to postpone dinner-
Caught by the magic of the ticket, I act exactly as David did, I took one last look in the mirror and with a smile I fixed my hair, I definitely wouldn't act like this in a situation like this, but David's personality was so dominant in to my mind that now that so much time has passed since then I can't believe that I actually married another man.
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I drank a couple of drinks to ease the tension but as soon as I saw Andrew for the first time through my son's eyes it was like seeing him for the first time, he was a bit taller than me he had a lovely smile and had a body so fucking hot in that body hugging black suit that a boner formed when I kissed him in front of my family and David and Andrew's friends
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I will never forget my first kiss with Andrew, his lips were firm but soft, his tongue was so wild that I was carried away by the intoxicating taste of his saliva and that slight taste of champagne, with his long and strong arms he caressed my round butt giving me a prelude to what would be my wedding night, the grip on his fingers dug into the meat of my ass like teeth, in my old life I never allowed myself to be weak, but now I enjoyed my newly husband's manipulations.
By the time the wedding ended I was drunk enough to let myself go, the real Andrew noticed my nervousness a bit, but he thought it was just the nerves before the wedding, I hadn't seen my son or Andrew in years, I knew what enough for the time we were together and for what his mother said to convince him that I was the real David.
Hours went by and it got darker and darker, when all the guests had left and me and Andrew went up to the room, the real performance began, the second we walked through the door immediately Andrew took my hands and he tossed me onto the bed like I was a wild animal I stripped naked revealing my son's years worked muscles, my heart was pounding like crazy as I watched Andrew take off his shirt in front of me, I had seen Andrew shirtless a lot of times when I was in my old body, but now it was very different.
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As if they had a life of their own my hands began to adore Andrew's massive hairy pecs, I pinched those nipples that were in front of me and buried my face in the middle of his pecs, the smell was delicious, sweat, and a slight scent of champagne spilled on his shirt, Andrew seemed to be enjoying it even more than I was, his moans that must have seemed repulsive to me before now only turned me on more and more as he released one.
Andrew I can't contain myself for another second he took me by the waist and turned my body so that I was lying face down towards the bed, my legs settled as if they knew exactly what was happening, I arched my back and lifted my ass to display it in front of Andrew, this time the moans that filled the room were my own.
Andrew had plunged his face into my ass and with the same ferocity that he had desecrated my mouth he did with my anus, even though he had magically acquired the personality of my son David, all the sensations will be new to me, and my God. , what fucking incredible sensations!
As he used his tongue to please me with his strong, calloused, firm hands, he took my penis and began to masturbate it, for a straight man and I have done the old-fashioned like me all these pleasurable sensations were incredible.
But neither me nor Andrew were satisfied, Andrew stuck his tongue out of my hairy ass and slowly inserted his cock inside me, it was a painful sensation, but somehow familiar and pleasant, he fucked me so hard that day that surely we didn't let sleep to the people in the next room.
He was so drunk and so tired that day that I didn't realize when he had put me to sleep, and when I woke up to the rest of Andrew, I almost fell out of bed. Immediately, all the memories of the day before came to mind. I got out of bed as quietly as possible, took the phone and unlocked it with Andrew's face, it had 58 calls from the real David.
I changed into a pair of my son's tight revealing underwear and went into the bathroom, called David and told him everything that had happened that night, completely avoiding that Andrew and I had fornicated.
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It was strange hearing my son cry in my old voice, but there was nothing I could do to comfort him, I just promised him that he would try to figure this out and not ruin his life or his new marriage.
Since that day I have been pretending to be David, every day is something new and to be honest it is exciting, thanks to my new personality I was able to fully adapt to David's gay life the new ideas did not seem disastrous to me as they would have seemed to me in my Old body, I always thought my son was a model or something, I soon found out that he and Andrew were the best strippers in the city where we now live, we had loads of money, I never thought fagots would pay so much just to see me dance, having fun, kissing and stroking my husband's cock in public.
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It's been three years since then, Andrew and I have a nice house that we remodeled, a lot of savings in the bank, and we recently started an OnlyFans account as a couple, and he never suspected that she married her boyfriend's father.
Actually no one ever found out about the body swap, that's still our secret between me and David, and speaking of David we talked again after the swap, he has a hard time adjusting to his new life as a bigoted middle-aged man, all those stupid ideas that used to be in my head are now in hers but I think she's adjusting to her new gay son.
It's a bit hard to admit, but I prefer my new life, so I'll try not to open a mystery gift from Mr2 swap again.
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yan-lorkai · 2 months
Note
Good Morning/afternoon/evening! Can I request a headcanon with a reader who comes back to Twst (after they have returned to their world) and finds yandere Idia made a robot (like Ortho) that looks like them and have the same personality as them? Thanks! ✨💖
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Returning to Twisted Wonderland this time was a choice you made after thinking and rethinking the pros and cons, after remembering everything you would be leaving behind. But the pros were greater than the cons, at least you thought. And when you came back, you knew what you wanted to do, look for Idia.
It wasn't really difficult to imagine where he would be, even though a few months had passed you knew he wouldn't have changed that much. However, you should have known how wrong things were when you saw Ortho and he looked surprised, and fearful, trying to dissuade you from opening the door. Trying to keep you from seeing what his brother had done.
But his attempt was futile. You opened the door, received Idia's permission and entered. But nothing could have prepared you to find your own face staring back at you when you entered Idia's room, the emulated expression of surprise making everything more uncomfortable. You and Idia were paralyzed for different reasons, inert, not knowing how to react. However, you recovered faster while he were still processing the entire situation.
"What the fuck is this?" You curse as you look with a mix of admiration and apprehension at your copy. Every little detail was exactly perfect, the same as the original, the same skin tone, the same hair, even the gestures were the same. It wouldn't matter if Idia had a plausible explanation for this, it was clear that he had created a robot to take your place to fill the void in his chest when you left. And it made you feel a little sorry for him, just a little.
"W-well, you see..." Idia can only mutter and whisper gibberish, his hair turning completely pink at being caught with such a strange creation. All this while said creation continues to maintain an impeccable posture, erect and proud, observing you, analyzing.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Yuu." The robot introduces themselves, without knowing or noticing the tension around them. It's so strange. There is no life behind those eyes like there is in Ortho, it is empty and dull plastic. It's uncomfortable to look at. "I'm Idia's lover and we're planning our wedding for after we graduate. Should we invite them, honey?"
Silence. It's embarrassing, invasive and wrong, this all felt too much, should you feel betrayed? Sad? Happy? Or honored that Idia created yet another robot? You didn't know at that moment. All you knew was that you needed to get out of there and you needed it now. But the door was now closed and locked, and no matter how many times you open it or yell at Idia nothing works. He has you now, he doesn't want to let you leave again. He can take your fear, he can take even your hate but having you leave again, even if only for your old dorm? That he can't handle. He won't.
"Prototype Yuu, shut down." He announces, finally recovering from his shock. He acts nonchalantly but you know he feels really awkward and anxious. "Listen, we can talk about it. It's not what it looks like."
You scoff. "Lover? Marriage? Yeah, it's exactly what it looks like, Idia. You created a robot that looks like me, that sounds like me. Because you still don't know how to deal with loss and you need comfort in the only way you know how to receive it."
Touché. He looks like a wounded dog that you kicked. But you find that you don't care at all. "You didn't have to call me out like that, you know." He mumbles but doesn't deny how right you are. "Plus how I was supposed to live without you? I felt so empty, so cold. But I didn't want to stop you from going home because it would hurt you. I can always destroy this prototype if you want, just please don't leave me again!"
He grabs both of your hands, holding onto them as if they were his lifesavers that keep him above the water so he won't drown while he stare at you without blinking, tiny little tears starting to run down his face. Now, can you forgive him or not?
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vsnyarbll · 5 months
Text
the nights when we're alone
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader, Aegon Targaryen x reader
words: 2.605
summary: Aemond invites Aegon to give his wife a different experience in the bedroom.
warnings: smut (exhibition, voyeurism), +18, targcest
a/n: Smut is not very detailed, but there is smut. Enjoy!
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"At least let me cum on her!" said Aegon. Aemond grunted and started pounding you faster.
Aegon stood at the side of the bed, watching his brother's every move and how you reacted to them. His right hand was around his cock, and he was speeding up and slowing down his hand with your reactions. You were lying face down and at Aemond's mercy.
Aegon squeezed his cock gently, letting out loud moans as Aemond's hands wrapped around your hips and caused your breathing to quicken.
You never stopped watching Aegon's facial expression. Aemond was always silent, so you were impressed that Aegon made so much noise at your slightest movements.
How did Aemond find himself in this situation? Aemond would ask himself a similar question every night the three of you got together. 'How did I let this happen?'
The answer to both questions was simple.
You two had an arranged marriage. You were the apple of the court's eye. All the lords were ready to accept your father's highest marriage proposal. But with a speed that neither you nor Aemond could understand, your father decided to marry you to Aemond.
Your father was delighted that you had married a prince and that your children would be princes and princesses.
King Viserys was also happy to see his son's wedding. He did not know if his son wanted to marry. Aemond had always been a quiet boy, and he was never one to sit and chat with his father. But all Viserys had to do to convince Aemond to marry a marriage he didn't even know he wanted was to tell him it was his duty.
In less than no time, you were married in a grand wedding. The cake was delicious. All the lords and ladies gathered at the red keep, dressed in their finest, excited to see a royal wedding. You were intimidated by the crowds, but even then, you were calmed by Aemond reaching for your hands and smiling as you exchanged your vows.
Aemond was excited to be married, even if he was afraid to admit it to himself. After many years of feeling like he belonged nowhere, he was relieved to have someone to call home. And eventually, he would have children who would love and accept him for who he was.
Aemond had always been so kind to you. You didn't have intercourse on your wedding night, but Aemond didn't mind. He could see you were worried.
He already had his self-confidence problems. But it wouldn't bother him if he knew it was him you didn't want and not the wedding night. He didn't want to ask you directly. He didn't want to appear weak when he was the one who was supposed to protect and defend you.
He had already accepted some things in his life. His brother's bullying since he was a little boy had changed his outlook on life in a partially positive way. At least, that's what he thought. No one had to love him, after all. He could live with that.
Aemond didn't know what he was doing for the kingdom by marrying you, but duty was duty. And fulfilling it was a prince's highest purpose. As long as it was polite and respectful between you, he didn't care about the rest. It was comforting to know that someone would be there when he returned to his room in the evening.
Then gradually you got used to each other. You all had your meals together. Aemond told you about some of his favorite books. You told him how interested you were in his family history.
You got on well.
Then, you fulfilled your marital duties. It took longer than expected, but neither you nor Aemond cared.
It wasn't bad. Especially when you heard how the other ladies in the castle spent their nights, you thanked each of the seven gods for giving you Aemond.
Aemond was a good man. He was careful not to hurt you. You knew he was trying to be gentle as he ran his hands over your body as if he was afraid you might break.
But there was one fact that Aemond was aware of. Your nights weren't enough for you. You wanted more. More passion. 
You didn't want him to be kind to you at night after everyone was asleep behind the doors of your chambers. 
You never told him that, but Aemond could tell by you averted your eyes every night when he reached up to kiss you. 
You loved kissing him, watching him. 
Aemond wasn't hard to love. 
Even if he didn't realize it, every lady in court would grovel at the king's feet to marry him. 
He was a prince. A good one. 
But you knew something was missing. And it made you feel guilty. 
What more could a woman want in her married life than a husband like Aemond? 
And you were ashamed that your body wanted more. 
It made you feel ashamed that you wanted more, more passion in an act that you were only doing to have children and to make sure your husband was enjoying his time in the marriage bed. 
That was what your Septa taught you. She couldn't have known anything wrong, could she?
Then Aemond caught the way you looked at someone at a family dinner. No one else could have noticed, but Aemond was aware of everything. When you looked at Aegon and locked eyes with him, you turned your head and smiled slightly in a way that others would have interpreted as politeness. Anyone else would have thought you were behaving as you should exactly, but they didn't see what Aemond saw.
The way you turned your head and blushed slightly, the way your chest rose and fell faster, the way you pressed your thighs together… Even then, you looked more excited than any night in bed with Aemond.
It was no surprise you wanted Aegon. He has always had a reputation for exciting women. His callous and uncaring demeanor appealed to most women, even if Aemond couldn't understand it.
Then Aemond thought.
He knew that if he made such an offer to Aegon, he would accept it unconditionally. He also knew his mother or anyone else at the castle would never know this.
He had to convince himself. He did not know if he could bear to see his wife with his brother like that. He put off thinking about it for a while.
Then, one night, you moaned Aegon's name as you came.
Neither of you looked at each other after Aemond pulled out of you.
You held tightly to the sheet that covered your body and turned your back to him. You buried your face in your pillow, almost letting it suffocate you, and waited for sleep to overtake you.
You were sure he would be furious.
And Aemond reconsidered the decision he was about to make a few weeks ago.
He stared at the ceiling for a while and twisted his rings, which made you watch his fingers for longer than necessary when he wore them. Perhaps inviting Aegon to his bed wasn't such a bad thing. The Targaryens had never cared about social norms. Why would Aemond care?
Aegon wasn't hard to set up. Aemond went to his room to ask his opinion on the matter.
Aegon opened the door with a suspiciously sweaty and red face. "Aegon…" he said, and his lips formed a thin line. "I can come back later. I think… you're busy." Aegon shook his head and straightened his trousers, which made Aemond sigh. He considered giving up before it was too late. But when Aegon said, "Nonsense. Come in." he realized how long it had taken him to work up the courage, and he didn't want to waste it.
He briefly told Aegon what he wanted to do. He received it with great excitement, just as Aemond expected. "Your wife… I mean… I don't want to sound disrespectful, but I sometimes wish it was me who married her."
Aemond did not react, but he sank further into his chair.
It took him less time than he expected to convince Aegon. The hard part was convincing you. Because you denied it for days, even crying when Aemond pushed too hard.
You asked what kind of a wife he saw you as with an angry face. "What kind of a wife betrays her husband!" you said several times. Because you never thought he would actually do something like this. You thought he was testing your loyalty.
One evening, you were having dinner together, and you were both sitting calmly. You thought that Aemond had given up the question he had been asking, and you were relieved. You reached for the glass on the table close to Aemond, afraid to look at his face. He took your hand and made you look at him.
Then he said the last thing you wanted him to say. He let out the anger you've been holding in for days. You stood up in anger and caused the chair to fall backward. "Yes! Yes, I want Aegon to fuck me! Are you happy now?!"
Aemond had never seen you so pissed off.
You looked at him, worried about how he would react to your sudden outburst, but you held your head high.
Aemond took a sip of wine and said, "Yes, that's what I wanted to hear." calmly. You nervously gripped the table and looked at his face, not understanding.
A few nights later, you were combing your hair to get ready for bed. You had forgotten or erased from your mind what Aemond had insisted on because you could not imagine Aemond doing such a thing.
Then the door opened, and someone came in. Your back was to the door, but you didn't look at the person because you were sure it was Aemond. No one else would come to your room at that hour. Then you almost jumped as the voice of someone you didn't expect filled your ears. "I'll never understand why women brush their hair before sleep."
You turned around quickly, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. You clenched the comb in your hand, trying to draw strength, and your gaze shifted between your husband and Aegon.
You were still trying to wrap your head around what had happened as Aemond took off the cloak he was wearing over his thin shirt.
At first, the two of you were together, and Aegon watched you. Your face never turned in his direction. But even with such a simple situation, Aemond had realized how you squeezed him more than usual when you came.
After spending a few nights together, you found the courage. You turned your head towards Aegon and began to watch him.
You imagined them both next to your body. You imagined their hands sliding over your body and grasping you together.
Aegon began to run his hand over his trousers as if this was the signal he had been waiting for to do more. When your gaze shifted to between his legs, he pulled his trousers down to his hips and pulled out his cock. It was as if he was always waiting for the slightest sign from you to do more.
This went on for a few months.
During the day, you were ashamed to look at the armchair where Aegon sat. The armchair reminded you of Aegon's eyes that wouldn't leave your face when he came. You even tried to cover it with one of your dresses, but then you gave up. Even without any tangible evidence to remind you, it had happened, and you liked it.
In the evening, both of them came to your room again. Aemond had not allowed him to touch you even with the tip of his finger, and he was determined to continue to do so. Aegon was only a part of the pleasure he wanted to give you. No more was necessary than Aemond had already allowed.
But now that Aegon had seen you in every possible position with every possible ejaculation expression, it was starting to make him angry that he couldn't touch you.
If the choice had been yours, you would have stepped between them the first night they entered the room together.
Aegon had reached his breaking point after begging and being denied all night long to touch you or at least to cup your breast once. "At least let me cum on her!"
Aemond grunted and started pounding you faster. "Fine! But only on her ass." He was tired of hearing Aegon's begging.
You got even more excited when you heard what Aemond said.
Aegon moved closer to the bed. All three of you were about to cum.
Aegon couldn't stop his body from moving as he moved his hand, and the tip of his cock touched your leg with every movement.
Aegon threw his head back but quickly raised it again for fear of missing the sight before him. Your eyes locked as he quickened his hand. Aegon raised his free hand as if to reach for you, but fearing Aemond, he placed it on his leg.
You came first.
Your breathing quickened, but you held back most of your moans. Even though it had been a few months, it was still embarrassing to be exposed in front of more than one person.
Then Aemond pulled out and came on the cloth next to you.
And finally, Aegon got what he had dreamed of for months and came on your ass.
You almost shivered when you felt the warm liquid on you. You let out a loud breath.
He rested his hand on the side of the bed, and you were excited that your hands were almost touching.
Aemond turned around to get dressed, needing privacy as if the three of you hadn't just cum together.
Aegon quickly looked at Aemond, and when he was sure he couldn't see you, he ran his fingers over yours. Your eyes moved from his softened cock to his body.
When he saw that you didn't react negatively to his touch, he moved his hand to your back and stroked you gently. "You did well." he said in a low voice.
You smiled and began to study his face with dreamy eyes.
Aemond turned around and took the cloth he had just used and cleaned you.
Aegon sighed. "You couldn't leave it like that, could you?"
You didn't move. You kept lying face down. You were feeling a little tired, but the main reason for not changing your position was to avoid waking up if you were in a dream. Because if it wasn't a dream, you couldn't understand how these two men could be so interested in you. And if it was a dream, it was a long and satisfying one.
Aemond took the cloth to the bathroom and came back to you. He laid down and pulled you to him. You wore nothing, and both of them would have preferred you to be naked in front of them, even if they didn't say it out loud.
Aegon quickly put on his pants and sat down next to you.
"You do not sleep with us, Aegon," Aemond said without opening his eye. He hugged you tightly- afraid you'd disappear in his arms.
Aegon grinned. "I know, I know," he said as he ran his hands through his hair.
But in the morning, the three of you woke up with your arms around each other.
318 notes · View notes
anadiasmount · 6 months
Text
a taste of something sweet - ruben dias x reader.
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quick sum: fiance! ruben coming home after the cwc final, and not being able to spend a single second away from reader. seeing her with family has him confessing more than he originally proposed for. insta au included at end! tiny smut, so minors dni! 🤍🎄
wc: 1.7k | masterlist | ruben’s masterlist
psa🗣️: hi angels!🤍 miss you all! it’s been a MINUTE since i posted for ruben, but here’s something for us ruben girlies for christmas time! hope you enjoy! 🤍🎄
“ruben!” you squealed, waiting for him to fully come in before throwing your arms over his shoulders. ruben let out a deep chuckle, and picked you up behind your thighs, sighing in content at being with you again. you had the biggest fear he wouldn't be back before christmas eve, and that your plan to have both families over would be ruined. expect that wasn't it, and here stood your world champion. 
“i missed you so much princesa,” ruben set you down and kissed you deeply, grunting in delight at tasting your cherry lips again. “me too you have no idea, but you're back and that is all that matters to me,” your foreheads leaned into each other, as you ran your hand through his hair. 
“i passed by to get the last minute stuff so we could pack into the coolers, and i got you these as well,” ruben walked to where his luggage stood, locking the door first and then pulled out a bouquet of white and red roses, smirking at your awe reaction. “they’re are gorgeous ruben,” your finger traced the petal, bring the bouquet to your nose and smelling the flowers. “thank you belo.” 
ruben blushed at acknowledgment, wrinkled crinkling in his eyes. he kissed your forehead before dragging you into the kitchen. “i know i called you earlier, but i want you to know how proud i am of you handsome. a treble winner, supercup, and now a world champion? you have no idea the immense feeling i have for you, and to see you smiling after these past weeks? my heart is just full of joy.”
ruben had been quiet these past week, from training, to recovery, to the games and unexpected results, it was taking a toll on him. he didn’t show much emotion, let alone tell anyone how he truly felt, but you could read him from the back of your hand. if he needed you there he was, you vowed to that after he proposed after the unforgettable night in istanbul. 
if he needed space you would respect that, waiting as much as much time he need to process and then come find you fully. if he wanted to talk and express how he felt, he would pull you into his chest, whispering and not fully saying too much out loud, just enough for him to get into a stable mindset. if there was anything ruben looked forward too or longed for, it would always be you.
“my heart is complete with you, always princesa, eu te amo,” ruben said with a deep and groggy voice, enlightening a spark inside you hearing the three words you would never get tired of hearing. it didn't feel real, to have a man like him make you feel this way, to be head over heals, to finally find that stability and security with a man who never has taken you for granted and appreciated you through the good and bad. 
ruben and you spent the whole night finishing last-minute gift wrapping, and he went on to teach you his favorite portuguese cookies, opting to also make some for his family and yours. you hadn't seen your parents or sibling in weeks, and this time was perfect, being all together in a cabin, and spending your favorite holiday all together. 
ruben couldn't go to sleep for some reason, continuing to talk about the season they were having, and also about the final they had just won. he also made some wedding talk, surprising you since he usually wasn't one to give an opinion unless it was about a venue, food, or invites. part of him was also nervous to see your families all together, unsure how it would play out. 
he eventually fell asleep, feeling slightly guilty since he knew you were tired, and stayed up specifically to wait for him to come home. he kissed your nose and whispered a small goodnight, eventually falling asleep on top of you, finally getting the earned sleep since he could only do that when you lay with him. 
ruben ensure your luggage and coolers were safely secured in the car, making the trip up north to meet your families together. the two of you were the first to arrive, having time to go buy some groceries, and unpack. although that became hard as ruben couldn't keep his hands off of you, whispering dirty words into your ear that finally made you cave in. 
he longed for this. craved for this. he took his time with you, relishing every single second before your families came. groaning at the sounds you made, his name falling from your swollen kissen lips, the scratches you were leaving all over as the pleasure became to much. he was utterly obsessed with you, hitting every spot till you crumbled beneath him, ruben not far behind. 
maybe it was your hormones, but you shed a tear or two when seeing you parents all over again, especially your brother who brought his wife and newborn baby up to the cabin. it was not different with ruben’s family, giving them a hug and kiss on a cheek, asking how their drive up went. catching up with his mom, and cousins.while making dinner for a whole. 
it was a great idea you had gone shopping prior or else you'd be stuck, as the snow immediately came down after 4 pm. that night was spent with pure laughters, sharing old memories, drinks being poured every other few 30 minutes, and proposing goals for the new year to come. 
the day of christmas eve, everyone was up to go skiing, the tour guide showed the spots you could go and safely succeed skiing. you were more than grateful it was a private part of the cabin, no cameras or fans coming up to you, you knew it came with a footballer boyfriend, now fiance, but you would never quite get used to it. 
ruben was attached you, some could say maybe had separation anxiety as he always looked around to ensure you were okay, like a lost puppy. he would plaster a huge grin when he met your eyes, sending you a glance to check in if you were okay, you would nod and send him a wink. 
after coming back from skiing, everyone either took a nap or began to get ready for the evening. the tree was filled with gifts, the kitchen smelt like homemade ingredients and scents, and every corner you turned was decorated with lights. you turned on a few candles and set the table, ensuring everyone had a glass and utensils. 
ruben and you snuck in a shower together, avoiding his hands as he clearly desired more, but it felt too risky. you wouldn't have been able to look at anyone the same if you did had done something, or even heard you in the smallest way possible. 
“gatinha, you look so beautiful,” ruben whispered, as he came up behind you, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and placing a small kiss on your neck. his nosed traced all the way way to your shoulder, not being able to get enough of how you looked and smelled, it was driving him crazy. you wore an emerald-colored silk dress, with small white kitten heels, and your hair down. 
“I know we have been together all day, but it feels like i havent been able to see let alone hold you,” ruben sighed, sounding slightly upset about it. you swiftly turned around and kissed his lips, feeling as he suddenly pulled you closer, releasing a small giggle from you. “i know me too, but i promise, once everyone is asleep we can make good use of the fireplace okay?”
ruben reluctantly agreed, walking out hand to hand out to see everyone either playing a game of poker, cooking, or watching tv. you insisted on helping in the kitchen, even if it meant washing dishes or almost slightly burning yourself. your mom and his mother conversation flew, as they talked about their teenage/ adult years, and apparently a romance show the two couldn't stop gushing about. 
later on, so your sister-in-law could get a break, you offered to help her watch the baby. to ruben’s surprise, he found himself glancing from time to time, a part of him wanting that with you one day. the way you cradled the baby, swayed side to side, kissed their cheek, and adjusted their beanie and blanket to make sure they weren't cold. right then and there ruben knew you were forever for him. 
“come here, i know your still cold,” ruben said, bringing you to his lap, the weighted blanket covering both your bodies as you watched the fire grow slowly. it was late, too late, but the two of you couldn't sleep. ruben rubbed your back, constantly placing kisses on your head and the bridge of your nose. 
you held onto the mug filled with hot chocolate, ruben dipping the cookies he made into the drink and eating them from time to time as you discussed your futures. he loved the sound of your voice, just like you did as well, it was a common thing shared among you. “i hope you know one day you'll be the mother of my kids one day y/n…” he randomly rambled.
“What?”
“you’re gonna be such a great mom one day, and i can’t wait for us to finally have mini us in the house. you mean so much to me i never want to be apart from you, i want to share everything with you,” ruben confessed, watching as your eyes went crazy to search for a tint of lies or regret. but with ruben? everything was always honest and serious, which you loved, as you valued communication. 
“thank you for staying through my best and worst. for keeping my head up high and never letting me down. for me to able to come home to the woman of my dream waiting for me. to have an inspirational and loving person along my side anywhere i go,” ruben continued.
“we made that promise no? when you proposed to me? nothing will ever separate us, and i hope you know that you won't get rid of me that easily. you’re it for me ruben, have been since the first day i met you. and i can’t wait for what's to come for us,” you said smiling, kissing the red tip of his nose and then lips, where he immediately closed his eyes and snuck in. “i love you querida.” just like the fire grew in the fire place, the fire inside your chest did as well. “merry christmas, ruben.”
“merry christmas, y/n.”
———————————
rubendias posted on their feed!
rubendias
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liked by: johnstones, bernandosilva, cancelo, yourusername, joaofelix, nathanake, pepteam, and 534,274 others.
rubendias: lovely way to spend christmas after being a world champion! merry christmas cityzens! 🩵🤍
tagged: @yourusername
comments:
username6000: handsy aren’t we now ruben…
johnstones: sure that picture wasn’t meant to be left in your photos?
↪️ rubendias: nope ☺️
bernandosilva: love you two! merry christmas 🩵
↪️ yourusername: thank you benny 🤍 tell isa we send our hello’s 🤍
user19: HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL WTF?
username3928: y/n why are you allowing him to post these selfies? 🙄🙄
↪️ yourusername: i haven’t. he knows he can’t post stuff like this knowing i’ll go 😵‍💫😵‍💫
joaofelix: tu mano ruben 😂🤣
username1087: y/n my gf 😣
↪️ rubendias: she’s actually my fiance ☺️
mateokovacic: 🩵
302 notes · View notes
maidragoste · 2 years
Text
Give me a chance
Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra) x Aegon II Targaryen
part 1, part 2 part 4
If anyone has an idea of what to call this series I would greatly appreciate it haha
By the way, if someone wants me to write something specific, my requets is open. or if you have any questions or thoughts about this series I invite you to tell me.
Thank you very much for the support, it makes me very happy to see the likes, the reblogs and the comments. I hope you like this part as well as the previous ones
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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"I'm going to kill him," Aemond said as soon as you two were alone in your room.
His head was already plotting different ways to get rid of his brother. He could poison him, hire mercenaries to kill him, or set fire to the king's chambers and lock him up to burn. No matter what, Aemond just wanted his brother dead from him.
"Aemond, don't be silly," you said approaching him "If Aegon turns up dead the first suspects would be us, they would kill us for being traitors and our children would be orphans" you hugged him around the waist.
Your husband knew you were right but he didn't want to be rational, he wanted you to be just as angry as he was but instead, you seemed so calm.
"You want to marry Aegon. Why? Is it some kind of payback for the bloody witch?"
Aemond knew he screwed up the instant you released him and he saw the fury in your eyes. If you had a sword in your hand he was sure you would have used it.
"Do you really think so poorly of me, Aemond? This isn't about you and your whore" you replied coldly "I don't want to marry Aegon" you confessed reassuring the prince "But I will, and I'm not asking for your opinion or your permission, dear husband. I will marry Aegon to restore peace to the realm, to end the bloodshed."
"You know it won't just be a political marriage"
If it were just a political marriage, Aemond might not be so upset. But he knew his brother and he knew he wouldn't miss the opportunity to have you in his bed of him. He wasn't blind, he could see how Aegon looked at you. Every time you were in the same room the king couldn't take his eyes off you. Many times during dinner he had to restrain himself from sticking his knife in the king's throat.
Damn, as soon as he got home Aemond should have taken you and the children to the Dragon Stone or anywhere away from Aegon. He had underestimated his brother.
"I know" you sighed. You weren't an idiot, knowing Aegon he would say that they would have to consummate the marriage so that no one would doubt it and could annul it. There was also the issue of the lack of an heir, at the moment Aegon had named Aemond as heir but everyone agreed that he should have his children "I will do my duty and give him children" you said with regret thinking how disappointed your mother would be of you right now.
"I'll be with you on your wedding night" your husband decided.
It would be torture for Aemond to see his brother's hands run over your body, he would have to restrain himself from killing him, but he preferred to be present to make sure Aegon was nice to you. He couldn't prevent the wedding, but he could prevent you from suffering in bed.
"What? Aemond, don't do that, don't torture yourself" you shook your head.
"I'll be there, I'll keep Aegon at bay, I'll stop him from hurting you"
Before you could say anything, Aemond kissed you. It wasn't the first time you two kissed since he'd come home, but it was always short and sweet. The kiss just now was pure passion. Aemond was kissing you as if he needed you as if he was afraid that you would slip out of his arms at any moment as if he couldn't live without you. As they kissed you began to guide the prince toward your bed.
•••••
You never expected Aegon to court you, you thought he would only announce their future nuptials and the thing would stop there but no. Every day the king took a walk in the gardens with you and the children, or sometimes, to Aemond's annoyance, he invited you to dinner in his chambers.
You're confused. Aegon confused you. And you hated it. You hated that he was so nice to you. The king had never tried to go overboard with you. He didn't raise his voice to you either when they had disagreements about planning the wedding, they only argued once because he wanted to have a big banquet and you refused because you thought it was disrespectful to the people who were starving, Aegon said no it was fair that his first wife had a feast and you didn't, you finally agreed only after he promised that all the leftover food would be given to the people of King's Landing.
Aegon always seemed delighted to hear how your day had gone, even when you talked about the children he seemed attentive. You also started seeing him in kindergarten. Today you got to see how he "talked" to Baelon while he was trying to braid Jaehaera. Seeing that got on your nerves because the man was happy listening to your baby trying to imitate his words he was nothing like the man who burned your mother alive. How could they be the same man?
Maybe it was the memory of your dead mother or maybe it was that you drank too much wine at dinner but ended up asking what you wanted to know so badly.
"What are your true intentions?"
"What are you talking about?" asked the king looking at you with pure curiosity.
"You're being too nice to me, you're going to give me a crown, you're giving me too much power. It doesn't make sense, you killed my mother to prevent me from taking your power away"
At the mention of Rhaenyra, the king's eyes turned to pure fury. You were sure that if your mother was still alive he would have killed her again.
"I never wanted power. I never wanted to be king" Aegon confessed. The only thing he ever wanted was to be loved, he add in his head.
Hearing those words was like a slap in the face. But the surprise did not last long, fury took over your body and from one moment to the next you were at the other end of the table with your knife on the king's throat but without exerting pressure.
"Are you telling me this was all for nothing? My mother died for nothing?" you protested with your hand trembling with fury.
"I killed your mother to avenge my son" he replied and closed his eyes as he remembered Jaehaerys's body. His boy loved him, it didn't matter that he wasn't a perfect father, his boy always seemed happy every time he saw him "Remember? Blood and Cheese? A son for a son?" he opened his eyes again to find that your eyes were painted with pure guilt and sadness.
You stay silent. Of course, you remember that night. You remember Helaena's screams. You remember the commotion in the castle as they searched for the two men. You remember how guilty you had felt about everything that happened. Do you remember not being able to sleep for days wondering if things would have been different if you had already given birth, would your mother have had her own grandchildren killed in revenge? And on the nights those thoughts haunted you, you weren't together with Aemond, he was hell-bent on finding the killers in an attempt to overshadow his own guilt, but you were together with Aegon. You accompanied him in his duel and watched over him, it was the only thing you could do.
Aegon knows you remember him because you were the only person who cared for him. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that he was also Jahaerys's father, everyone was too busy comforting Helaena while waiting for him to get on with the war. But you noticed that he was falling apart. You let him cry in your arms, you heard him talk about Jahaerys, and you never interrupted him or told him that he will stop crying and start acting like a man. No. You stayed by his side, no matter how tightly he hugged you or wet your pajamas with his tears until he fell asleep.
"I want peace just like you do" he declared softly and took your hand to start slowly lowering the knife little by little. It almost seemed like he was dealing with a wounded animal. "I want you to be happy. I want to be happy and you are the only person who can make me happy"
"Aegon, if it were up to me you'd already be dead," you said letting yourself be carried away by resentment and just to hurt him, but deep down you didn't want him dead. Despite everything, he was still family and you were tired of death. You knew that the few members of the dragon house must remain united or they will continue to cause more destruction to the kingdom. With a sigh, you placed the knife on the table.
"I think I could make you happy" he kept talking as if he hadn't heard you. He knew you and he knew you weren't serious. your heart was too good to wish death to your family. "I made you happy when Aemond wasn't around. Well, the closest can somebody get to be happy in the middle of a war"
Aegon could have named Alys Rivera. But he wasn't cruel, he didn't want to hurt you. He had seen the pain in your eyes when the news came that Aemond had impregnated that woman. He had never wanted to hurt his brother so much until that day. How dare Aemond break something as precious as your heart?
"Yes, you did," you admitted guiltily. Most days were dark, but when Aegon took time off from his duties and visited you, you felt a bit of joy. The war was put aside when the two of you reminisced about their childhood pranks or he told you some anecdote about his drunken "adventures." In those brief moments, you forgot all your losses and your cheating husband.
"Give me a chance" Aegon pleaded and you felt your breath catch at the way he looked at you. He looked at you with respect, with admiration, with love.
"Show me that this war was not for nothing, show me that you can be a worthy king," you noticed how he tensed and took his face in your hands "I'm not asking you to be perfect, I don't want you to be perfect, I just want you to take into account Your place is serious," you said softly as you caressed his face, you felt proud to see how he relaxed little by little "Many people suffered because of our family, we must reward them. We have to reunite the kingdom and earn the trust of the people."
You decided to ignore the voices of your brothers and your mother calling you a traitor. You were sure they would haunt you in your dreams. But it didn't matter. You will never forget them but if you wanted to have a future with Aemond and Aegon you would have to try to leave the ghosts of your family behind. You had to make the effort.
"What if I messed me up?"
"Then I'll be by your side" you promised to make him smile "And if I can I'll clean up your mess"
"Thank you"
Perhaps it was risky and could make you angry but Aegon wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your stomach. He sighed happily when you didn't push or insult him, instead, you started stroking his hair.
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exhaslo · 7 months
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Hi!! I was wondering if you can write about Miguel x spider women. she was there in the beginning when spider society first started. They was together but something happened and they end up breaking up. She went back to her world and haven’t had no connect with him since. Few years have pass and a anomaly ends up popping up her world she gets reunited with Miguel, and they rekindle their love. Thank you ! 😊
Ohhhhhhh this sounds nice!! I can see this happening fr fr.
Warning: Fluff, mentions of sex
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Let's go back, just one more time. It felt like years, but in reality, it was only just two years ago. You were one of the first people who got created by Miguel O'Hara for the Spider Society. You became close to the futurist Spider, a little too close. You were not ashamed to admit it, you had fell in love with Miguel.
The two of you were a couple for a few months. Life was good. The two of you were happy. Hell, the sex was amazing. It was a shame that the two of you broke off. It was a hard time for the two of you. You and Miguel had a disagreement that led to a huge argument, which led to you breaking up with him.
You cried for days and refused to return to the Spider Society. The worst part about the breakup was that both of you were stubborn as hell and refused to apologize. Inside, you remained in your world and stayed away from everyone.
You had hoped that maybe one day, just maybe, you could reunite with Miguel and apologize. The only problem was that you were afraid. It had been so long. Would Miguel even remember you? Would he even accept your apology?
You didn't know.
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Present Day.
You were sitting on top of the Empire State Building, watching the city below you. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you thought about your past. You had just gotten invited to one of your friend's wedding and they had asked you to bring a date. If not, they were going to try and set you up.
"I haven't dated anyone since..."
You frowned at the thought, thinking about Miguel. Hitting your head gently, you tried to think of something else. You could ask a favor from another friend, probably.
"All units, Mystero sighted in Center Park. All units keep guard, he's not normal."
Your ears perked as you heard your walkie go off. You turned towards Central Park and gasped at the stroke of lights. This was not your Mystero. A shudder ran down your spine, knowing that other Spiders will appear soon. It had been so long, but you could not ignore this. You were Spider-Woman. You had a job to do.
As you swung towards Central Park, you started to calm down. Swinging always helped. Besides, now that you thought about it, Miguel wouldn't show up for a small anomaly like Mystero. He would send others.
"Ah! Can you not shoot your filthy webs towards me! I am TRYING to perform some magic!" Mystero cried out dramatically.
"Do it in your world," Miguel spat, using a device to trap Mystero.
"Miguel?" You whispered in shock.
Upon hearing your voice, Miguel froze. The two of your stared at each other for what felt like hours.
"So, am I just going to lay here all night or-"
"Shut up." Miguel hissed as he tossed Mystero into his dimensional portal. You watched Miguel face the portal and felt your breathing halt,
"Miguel, wait-" You reached out for him. Miguel tensed up,
"(Y/N)"
"I'm sorry," The two of you said in unison.
Your eyes widen as your grip soften against Miguel's wrist. The portal closed and Miguel finally faced you. He was much larger than before. Miguel had seriously worked out since the last time you saw him. It wasn't a bad thing, but you could sense something lingering within him.
"Want to talk while swinging around?" You offered. Miguel nodded and followed your lead,
"You've gotten thinner."
"And you've gotten buffer,"
"How have you been?" Miguel asked, breaking the moment of silence. You faced him as you swung,
"Day to day...You?" Miguel stopped on top of a nearby building, "Miguel?"
"(Y/N), I messed up, a few times. I shouldn't have blamed you for what happened that day. I realized that I can't replace what we had, I just make things worse," Miguel sighed heavily. You could hear the hurt in his tone,
"And I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you. You were just trying to keep me safe. I...I'm really sorry with how we ending things. I wanted to go back...but...but I was-" You started to cry, finally breaking down.
Miguel stood in front of you, unsure if a hug was allowed. He did not deserve to hold you anymore. You were not his. Watching you cry hurt. Deactivating his mask, Miguel slowly approached you. He brought his hand to your cheek, wiping a tear away.
"I'm sorry!" You cried as you tackled him in a tight hug. Miguel's eyes soften as he wrapped his arms around you,
"I'm sorry too," Miguel whispered and held your head, "You know, after you left, no one was able to kick some sense into my stubborn head. At least not until recently." He muttered the last part. You sniffed,
"I could barely do that," You said with a low chuckle, "Hey, do you think we can...be friends again? I missed you...and the others." You asked.
Miguel smiled as he withdrew his arms from you. He fixed your hair and your mask, causing you to smile.
"Friends is a good start."
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"Sorry I had to drag you to this, but I didn't have anyone else to ask," You apologized again to Miguel. Miguel, who had to fix his suit, just hummed in response,
"It's fine. At least you didn't come up with a lame excuse like I did at the last wedding I went to."
"Oh, I have to hear that."
Miguel rolled his eyes towards you as the two of you took your seats. It had been three months since you and Miguel had became 'friends' again. It was a nice and slow start to rebuilding what you had. Every not and then one of the two of you would flirt, but it would lead to nowhere.
As the wedding continued, you found yourself dozing off. You had a long night patrolling the city. You wanted to make sure your friend had a crime free wedding. Leaning against Miguel, you slowly felt your eyes drift. Miguel wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you up.
"I told you not to stay up late," Miguel whispered in your ear. You flinched awake,
"C-Crime doesn't sleep!" You huffed back.
The two of you playfully bickered with each other until hearing everyone clap around you. Joining in, both you and Miguel resisted a laugh. You followed the crowd towards the reception, ready to eat some food and hopefully leave.
"Just a few drinks and we can do. I want to avoid my friend questioning us."
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"(Y/N)! I'm so glad you came!!! And with a date!!!" You friend squealed happily.
You just joined in on the joy, a few too many drinks in your system. Miguel was keeping a close eye on you since you rarely had fun. It was cute. You had told him not to drink too much and there you were. He just loved how cute you were.
"Sooooo, tell me about your date!" You friend begged. You laughed and sat on Miguel's lap, hugging his neck,
"Dis is Miggy~ We dated...It vas great, bestest man ever!" You slurred, nuzzling your head into his neck, "Smells so nice~"
"And she's done for the night," Miguel sighed, carrying you in place, "It was a pleasure meeting you. Perhaps next time it will be under...better circumstances."
Miguel grunted an embarrassed sigh as he carried you out of the party. You kept whining in his ear, nuzzling your head against his neck. Miguel felt his face burn as he resisted his yearn for you. You brought out his neediness.
"(Y/N), I'm taking you home, okay?" He said, looking around before opening a portal. You whined softly,
"Staaaay, I miss you Miggy. Please stay with me~"
"(Y/N)" Miguel groaned lowly as he placed you on the bed, taking your shoes off, "You wanted to stay friends...right?"
"At firsssssst," You crawled over to him, bringing your face close to his, "Can you gimme another chance? Pwease?"
Miguel looked into your eyes, seeing the want. He sighed softly, kissing your head before tucking you in. He sat against your bed, stroking you head as you started to fall asleep,
"When you wake up, we can start again. It's funny, I was going to ask you to give me another chance," Miguel chuckled lowly.
Hearing you snore, Miguel smiled softly. He laid beside you, pulling you into his embrace, missing your warmth. Miguel just missed you. He closed his eyes as his head rested against your shoulder.
"I still love you, (Y/N). I never stopped."
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Hope you enjoyed!
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wntrs0ldier · 1 year
Text
An Offer · part 08
pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,6k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), a/n: this chapter smells like a soap opera, but i couldn't help myself. i was in a silly goofy mood, please don’t hate me<3
series masterlist
series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.
chapter sneak peek: But you and Bucky didn't follow the other guests. You didn't know the detailed layout of the rooms in that house, and the only secluded place you knew was the toilet. You dragged Bucky there almost by force, and apparently expecting an escalation of whatever was on your mind, he allowed you to do so.
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“I'm sure you'll look beautiful, sweetheart,” Winnifred cooed. “I can't wait for the final result!” she added on her way to leave the room.
You spent the past few hours in Rebecca's bedroom, because that's where – aside from a large mirror, which rather every bedroom in the Barnes house was equipped with – was a vanity table; a really convenient solution when it came to doing your makeup and hair. 
The upcoming ceremony didn't quite meet the criteria of typical weddings; there were only a few days to organize everything since the pre-agreement was signed. In all the chaos, there was no room to think about the choice of wedding dress or hall; you didn't have time to choose the flowers, the design of the invitations (there weren't even any invitations), the cake or the music. And you didn't particularly regret not having the opportunity to do so. It wasn't a real wedding – it didn't take place because two people who loved each other decided to get married. And since it didn't matter much, you didn't feel the need to care about any of the details.
It was different for Winnifred. She was aware of the same things as you, but that didn't stop her from beaming with excitement. You found this extremely charming; largely because of your own mother. As you left the house this morning she said, This boy will be the death of you.
Rebecca entered the bedroom, which surprised you a little. She had every right to be in a room that belonged to her, but since you had arrived at the Barnes mansion a few hours ago, Rebecca had been avoiding you.
You hesitantly put down your mascara, regretting that you had only just finished doing your eyes. Otherwise, you would have had an excuse not to confront Rebecca in any way.
“My mom is right. You will be a lovely bride,” she said, giving you a weak smile. 
“Thank you.” You returned the friendly gesture, but were able to guess that it looked rather inept.
“Listen…” Rebecca sighed. “I'm sorry for the way I acted at dinner that night. I feel really horrible.”
“That's okay. You just had a bad day, I get it,” you replied. You didn't dare confess that you knew Rebecca's reasons for behaving the way she did. You feared that she would be furious to learn that her own sister had told you about this side of her life. 
Rebecca seemed unsatisfied with your words. “I'm really sorry for what I said. Especially since I can see that you are not some random girl at all.” 
Only after a moment did you realize that her gaze had landed on your engagement ring. Immediately, you felt a hot wave of sickening shame. 
“I'm sorry, I'm not the one who should be wearing it,” you claimed, asserting what you had told Bucky earlier.
“Jamie wouldn't have given it to you if he thought it would end up in the wrong hands.” Rebecca smiled a little more confidently. “He obviously knows what he's doing.”
Yes, you've heard that before.
“Do you need help with your hair?” she proposed. “I swear I'm not going to destroy it in revenge.” 
You laughed quietly. “Yes, please.” Accepting this offer had little to do with politeness or wanting to make Rebecca feel better. Indeed, you needed help.
Rebecca stood behind you, reached for a brush and began to comb your hair. She did this with extreme gentleness. “Are you nervous?”
“A bit,” you answered after a short thought, looking at your reflection. “But considering I'm marrying someone I've only known for a few weeks... That's normal, I guess.” 
“You shouldn’t be. I am not trying to sell you my brother,” she remarked, raising her eyebrows. “But he will take care of you. You should just be careful what you wish for.”
You didn't show in any way that Rebecca's words intrigued you. You guessed that they had to do with Robbie's disappearance, but you chose not to ask. Rebecca was reaching out to you, being even a sweetheart, like the big sister you needed on that day. Destroying it would be a real stupid thing to do, and you weren't going to sabotage the atmosphere around your own wedding.
She did your hair, and although you weren't sure what you actually wanted, Rebecca managed to achieve a satisfying result. When it was time to shed your robe, Connie's absence began to bother you. You needed someone to point out your lace lingerie and crack a few dirty jokes about your wedding night. You weren't counting on Rebecca. Even if she had a slightly different character, the very thought of talking about it with the groom's sister was uncomfortable enough.
You fixed your gaze on the white dress spread out on the bed. Since this wedding wasn't exactly a traditional wedding, you hadn't quite understood why you couldn't have chosen a dress in any other color. And surprisingly, the person who explained to you some of the issues around this subject was Michael. Now you knew that when marrying someone like Bucky Barnes, the right symbolism had to be taken care of – purity and innocence. You had to give the impression of being untouched, waiting for your husband, apart from whom no other man existed. You had to be innocent; to do him no harm, to agree with his opinion, to submit to him. You didn't believe that anyone from the two Families – who were the only guests at this wedding, witnesses to the joining of the two clans for good – cared whether you were a good, silent virgin with no opinion of your own or not. But it was all about appearances. Though, perhaps, the elders of this community actually cared about such details?
After Rebecca had also helped you with your dress, you finally stood in front of a large mirror and looked closely at your reflection. You couldn't make up your mind how you felt about it all; before the wedding, for which you hadn't decided on the slightest thing, in the dress you and Winnifred had bought at the last minute. Staring at yourself like that, you realized that nothing really mattered much to you. You just wanted to get it over with.
Winnifred returned to the bedroom; you first saw her only in the mirror, and when you turned around, you noticed a bouquet in her hands. “I knew you would look beautiful,” she said with delight, her gaze expressing a tenderness you couldn't recall seeing in your own mother. She shook her head as if she had just remembered something. “I have something for you.” She handed you the bouquet of pink carnations and white freesias, tied with a silk ribbon in a pale shade of pink matching the color of the carnations. Somewhat caught off guard, you accepted the flowers. “Jamie just brought it.”
You took a shaky breath. “Oh…”
The ceremony, from start to finish, was to be held on Timothy's property. You didn't understand this aspect either, and Michael didn't clarify it to you, but given the significance of the white dress, you were able to draw your own conclusions – there was no greater, more important sanctity than the Barnes Family, therefore instead of any temple, there was the home of the head of the Family.
When you arrived, nothing had been clear since leaving the car. You weren't even sure if you were actually there – your body definitely, but everything else?
You and Michael stood in front of the entrance to the ballroom.
You weren't wrong about the temple analogy, and were made aware of it now as you saw more or less its interior; filled with chairs and guests sitting on them, it resembled a sanctuary of some kind – even the table at the far end of the room was an altar of sorts. Nevertheless, there was no traditional walking down the aisle; Michael led you down a corridor formed between two sides of the rows of chairs, but only because you needed his help – your veil made it difficult to see and the lengthy material of your dress to move freely.
Walking forward with the not-so-slow step you usually observed in brides, you kept your eyes on the ground. Paralyzed by some sudden fear, jitters, you were unable to focus it on anything else. All this nervousness was making you more and more distant from the reality of the situation.
Completely relying on Michael, you stopped when he stopped. Only then did you dare to lift your gaze, but the degree of transparency of the veil didn't allow you to see much. All you knew was that you stood right next to Bucky; that he had Steve and someone else at his side; that there was a man in front of you, acting not only as a priest but also as an official. At least that's what you thought, as you tried to logically interpret each element.
Normally, it should be Michael, in some way replacing your father, who should lift your veil in order to present you to your future husband, your new protector, provider. However, that right belonged exclusively to Bucky. Because Michael wasn't giving you away, he wasn't handing you over to good hands; it was Bucky who took you, if that was his will, accepted you, included you in the Family. From that moment on, your whole life depended on your husband.
But he didn't uncover your veil right away. It was as if you were to remain his sweet secret for as long as possible, protected from the gaze of others. Soon, though, he lifted the material and placed it behind your head, and he did so with such delicacy and concentration that you still didn't believe it was real.
Finally, you could look at his face, and although you could see the obvious tiredness and nervousness on it, he was still the most beautiful man you had ever met. And he was going to be yours for the rest of your life, until death do you part.
If there were actually vow words spoken – any words at all – you didn't hear them. Still numb with fear and anxiety, you stared at Bucky. He was scared too, you had no doubt about that, but instead of getting even worse, you felt... safe.
You approached the table on which the agreement rested. The priest handed the pen first to Bucky. But when Bucky leaned over the document, his hand holding the pen hung in the air. You only saw the side of his face, so couldn't tell much from it. Your forehead furrowed slightly; was he hesitating? Panicking? Had he suddenly changed his mind and was about to run away, leaving you at the altar? 
Finally, however, he signed, bringing you back to breathing.
He moved the piece of paper towards you and handed the pen, without even glancing at you. You, too, leaned over the table, once again sweeping your gaze over the agreement, in effect realizing that something was wrong. It had expanded by at least one condition and some bold print.
The WIFE is obliged to provide the HUSBAND with an heir within a period of twenty-one months, i.e. the WIFE and the HUSBAND are obliged to conceive a child within twelve months from the date of the wedding.
Breach of any of the conditions will result in immediate termination of the agreement and a material penalty agreed by the parties.
So far you have felt so weak that you had the impression that you were about to faint. Now, you felt anger boiling up inside you; a sense of betrayal, of being a victim of trickery, pierced your heart painfully. You tightened your fingers on the pen with such force that it almost broke under their pressure. Despite everything, you signed the agreement, with the tip of the pen almost tearing through the paper.
There had been a lot of inconveniences in your path lately, but you couldn't recall any of them putting you in such a horrible mood. And when Bucky’s eyes met yours, you knew he saw that awful disappointment. Just as he should – he should be aware that he had hurt you. Did you expect to see guilt in response? Probably. But instead, there was anger, irritation, and somehow you knew it wasn't directed at you.
You also felt it when exchanging rings; Bucky squeezed your wrist a little too hard as he slid the wedding band onto your finger. He turned his jitters and anxiety into resentment; a phenomenon that intrigued you enough to make you forget your own for a moment.
The priest grabbed a previously prepared dagger; it had been resting on the table since the beginning, waiting for basically the most important part of the ceremony. “The act of joining two bloods.” The man took your hand carefully, turned it over and gently moved the dagger blade across your palm, leaving a bloody, not very deep line. You winced slightly, muffling a whine of discomfort. “So that two Families become one,” he added, proceeding to do the same with Bucky's hand, and he accepted it without the slightest movement; as if the blade had not even tickled him.
Thinking little of it, you reached for Bucky's wrist to draw his hand closer, then covered the inside of it with yours. As if by reflex, his fingers closed and embraced your hand gently. Maybe you were angry, but your body followed its own rules, and as Bucky made this small gesture, you felt warmth coming from where your hands touched; it spread to your chest, to the pit of your stomach.
The ceremony came to an end in as grave a mood as the whole of it. Timothy invited the guests to the garden, where a tent had been set up earlier – Winnifred's idea, as she had refused to let the feast take place in Timothy's cave. She insisted on this dose of romance, and it wasn't until after the ceremony that you realized she was right. The tent in the garden, in the middle of spring, was truly uplifting.
But you and Bucky didn't follow the other guests. You didn't know the detailed layout of the rooms in that house, and the only secluded place you knew was the toilet. You dragged Bucky there almost by force, and apparently expecting an escalation of whatever was on your mind, he allowed you to do so. 
“What was that?” you asked before he managed to close the door behind you. Anger surged inside you again, and the best way to get rid of it that popped into your head was to hit Bucky with whatever you had in hand – in this case, your bouquet. “Promise me you’ll be my partner,” you quoted his words from a few days ago, and the flowers collided with his arm again. “My ally.” And again. “My wife.” And again. 
“Y/N…” he sighed, patiently taking your harmless punches.
“You tricked me into continuing your bloodline!” Paying no attention to his calm tone, you didn't stop to hit him with the bouquet, which, by the way, wasn't as destroyed as it should have been.
“Y/N!” he hollered, suddenly grabbing your forearm, therefore stopping you from striking again. “Let’s talk about this. Like reasonable people.”
“So I am a person?” Your eyebrows rose. “Not a breeding stock?”
“I didn’t know!”
“How could you not know! You worked on this agreement together!”
And you were yelling at each other again, this time locked in that small space being the bathroom in Timothy's huge house. This only increased your frustration, because neither of you could escape. Besides, you couldn't escape not only physically; you were now stuck with each other.
“I didn't know. Okay?” he said much more calmly, although you felt that a gentle push would be enough to shatter all that calm again. “Timothy changed the deal behind my back. I should’ve known that he would pull something like this, he was too compliant…” He shook his head, looking away.
You thought it would be easier if you also stopped looking at him. So you concentrated on the bouquet; you pulled out the flowers that were only appropriate for throwing away. “You expected that he could pull something like this,” you began in a hushed voice, tentatively lifting your gaze to him. “And you didn’t do anything about it?” 
He also looked at you, unable to hide that your words had affected him. At that moment, you regretted that they had left your lips, but on the other hand, maybe he should have heard them? After all, you were the one who was the most violated in the situation, and although you yourself once mentioned that a baby-free deal was rather impossible to achieve, you felt cheated. 
“Don’t say that.” Bucky's voice sounded as quiet and weak as yours, his eyes expressing a begging; asking you not to give up on him like that, not to throw him into one bag with his uncle. “I’ll talk to him,” he added quickly. “I’ll talk to him now.” He seemed distracted, heartbroken, waiting for your approval. 
On that day, he was definitely not himself. And it hit you, what you had promised him – not to make this any harder than it has to be.
“Bucky-” you spoke tenderly, touching his arm, which only a few minutes ago you had been punching. “Do it after the party, okay? I don't want to ruin it for you. The penny has dropped anyway, so…” You shrugged.
You were still angry, betrayed, disappointed. But in all this, you forgot to see that Bucky was trying; that he was carrying a little too much weight on his shoulders. It appeared that he had been tricked, too, and you were probably the only person who could – should – show him some support.
Bucky smiled sadly, his lips pressed together. You didn't know him long enough, but just as before you were able to sense that he wasn't angry at you, now you got the strong impression that there were processes going on in his head that could lead to dangerous consequences.
You joined the rest of the guests in a tent at the back of the house. They didn't notice your absence, or took it as perfectly natural – slipping away to satisfy some burning need; that maybe you couldn't wait any longer to fulfill your marital duty. You would have preferred it to be exactly that instead of new problems.
Although you didn't doubt Bucky's intentions anymore and believed that he didn't know about his uncle's ruse, there was this lingering sense of unease accompanying you all the time. Maybe it had something to do with the stress of the last few days, which had reached its zenith just today? Or would you have been able to relax at home, away from all those people?
During a seemingly endless conversation with Winnifred and Rebecca, you noticed that you had lost sight of Bucky. The last time you saw him talking to the man who had introduced himself to you earlier as Sam Wilson, but you couldn't pinpoint when exactly that was – fifteen minutes ago, but it might as well have been over an hour.
You decided to try not to panic. He was talking to someone again, this time out of your view, or holed up for a cigarette.
Somewhere outside the fence sounded the loud roar of an engine, followed by the screech of tires. A few guests stopped their ongoing conversations and listened for a moment, while the rest were not particularly concerned about the noise. You were not part of either group; anxiety suddenly grew to enormous sizes, turning your stomach inside out.
Someone touched your shoulder, and you immediately knew it wasn't him; Bucky would do it differently. You looked over and saw Michael – white as a sheet. “Can we talk?” 
You excused yourself, and Michael, keeping the appearance of being completely in control, led you into the house. You didn't ask what had happened – you sensed that something bad hung in the air. 
Michael brought you to Timothy's office. He, on the other hand, looked furious; he was sitting behind his desk, and there was a burning smell in the room.
“Your agreement.” He pointed to the desktop; to the charred scraps of paper resting on it and the ring – the same one you slid onto Bucky’s finger a couple hours earlier. 
At first your stomach dropped. He destroyed the agreement and left. And without Bucky, without the agreement, you were ruined. 
Despite the fact that you were terrified, you were not going to break down in front of Timothy. He had humiliated you enough. “Which one?” Having tilted your head to the side, you lifted your eyebrows. “There were two versions, right? Were you inspired by Rumlows with the second one?”
Your biting tone did not go unnoticed by Timothy. “You are acting very boldly for someone who will soon be left with nothing.”
Painfully aware that Timothy was right, you glanced at your secured future – burnt, useless. Not only that was burnt and useless; you and Bucky had burned all the bridges together; Bucky had first beaten Brock Rumlow, then humiliated John Walker and finally vanished into thin air himself. 
But why exactly did he do it? He didn’t listen to you and talked with Timothy anyway; there had to be something his uncle had to have done; something that pushed his limits, tipped his balance. Or maybe his sweet words meant nothing and he decided to show you that marriage really wasn’t for him?
“Looks like you're back on the market.” Timothy stated. “I'm really ashamed of what my nephew did to you, darling.”
Unable to listen to Timothy any longer, or even look at him, you turned to Michael. “Can we go home?”
“Certainly,” he answered in such a gentle, almost fatherly tone that you have never heard from him before.
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a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰
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lionlena · 1 month
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Headcanon: Marcus tells you about his meeting with Teresa...(MarcusPikexf!reader)
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Since you liked the first part so much, I decided to add something more to this situation. Domestic fluff.
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On the way back home, your toddler's mouth wouldn't close. You watched in awe as Marcus listened to everything patiently while driving the car.
At home, as promised, a delicious dinner was waiting for you.
And you didn't have to worry about anything. Marcus even took care of your son's evening routine. He bathed him, helped him brush his teeth, and read him a bedtime story.
You knew he was a great father to your son. And soon he will also be the perfect daddy for your little daughter.
You were just finishing applying lotion to your pregnant belly when Marcus walked into the bedroom. He looked so comfortable in a t-shirt and sweatpants. And yet it didn't escape you that he was a little tense. You noticed it at the station.
Marcus looked at you tenderly and sat down next to you with a quiet sigh. You immediately grabbed his hand and asked:
"Have you had a hard time at work?"
"No… It was actually fine. Why do you ask?"
"Because you seemed tense at the station and then on the way home."
Marcus immediately felt his heart warm. You knew him so well that you noticed even the slightest change in his mood.
"It's about that woman you asked about."
You frowned and had to remember. This woman was so insignificant to you that you had already forgotten about her.
"The one with the sour face… What's wrong with her?"
"It was Teresa… Teresa Lisbon."
You immediately sighed, understanding who this woman was.
"Oh, baby… I'm so sorry."
You placed your hand on his cheek.
Marcus smiled warmly and placed his hand on yours.
"I'm not sad… That's not the point. My broken heart was healed a long time ago thanks to you."
He turned his face to the side and kissed your hand.
"So what is it about?"
"She upsetting me. She acted like I was some backup boyfriend she could always go back to… I should have said so many rude things to her…" A hint of anger crossed his face as he remembered her inviting him out for a drink. "I should have screamed in her face that I have the greatest wife in the world and that I would be a complete idiot if I left you for someone like her… But…" He sighed heavily. "I was so shocked I didn't do it."
His confession touched you. This is your husband. Your beloved Marcus, who always wanted to tell the whole world how much he loves you. You knew that on his desk at the FBI office, he kept your wedding photo, a photo of all three of you, and, recently, a photo of ultrasound. (He will probably add a photo of your newborn daughter soon.)
You cupped his face in your hands and said calmly.
"Honey, your actions are much louder than your screams. Believe me… Teresa saw it all perfectly. She saw a loving husband and father. A man who has everything. Family, love, job, and future."
Marcus smiled widely and kissed you on the lips. Your words gave him so much comfort. But after a while, the worry returned.
"You are not angry at me?"
"For what, darling?"
"That I didn't tell you right away."
You shook your head. You really didn't feel angry. You understood why he didn't tell you right away.
"It wasn't the right time there at the train station. I know you didn't want to hide it from me."
Marcus kissed your hand and nodded.
"Exactly. I just wanted to take you home as soon as possible and enjoy you, not talk about someone who really is nobody to me."
He leaned back on the pillows and pulled you closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head.
"Thank you for being such a wonderful wife and always being able to put my mind at ease. I love you, my love."
"And I love you."
Marcus began to tenderly stroke your belly. He rested his head on yours and closed his eyes. There was no reason to worry about anything.
Teresa was a hazy memory, a woman not worthy of his heart.
Now he had everything in his arms, his whole world. And he wasn't going to lose it.
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Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed
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queers-gambit · 4 months
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Hello my lovely, it’s me your babygirl. Remember me? 🥰🥰
I know you’re busy working on fics rn so take as much time as you want to answer!
I’ve got a very important question regarding Felix that I’d love your opinion on it & share my thoughts with you! 
*quickly runs to give you the biggest hug & spin you in my arms* 😘
So…. What do we think a Felix x reader wedding would look like at Saltburn? A grand extravaganza with a million guests or an intimate ceremony with just the Cattons?
Obviously they take every opportunity to throw a party at Saltburn so a wedding is the ultimate bash in the eyes of the Cattons. 
Or would Felix just decide to change it entirely and just want it to be a tiny intimate thing since he wants this to feel quiet and special. And then maybe some big party another day to the delight of Elspeth and sir James.  
For Felix he’s so laid back and in love all he cares about is his girl and what will make her happy. They are so young and in love i wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed on a lazy Sunday morning or a day reading naked in the field, just because he was so blissfully happy he knew there was nobody he’d rather spend these kind of days with for the rest of his life. 
Side notes: Venetia would be maid of honor right? I see Elspeth as the mother in law that makes herself heavenly involved with planning and gives her brutally honest opinion picking out the dress 😅 I can even picture stoic Duncan trying to hold back tears while he’s holding a tissue box to Elspeth or sir James while they read their vows. 
Sorry for the endless ranging but I’m aching to know your thoughts and see if you’ve thought about this too!!
of course i remember you, baby girl! welcome back!
i needed a break from writing, so thank you for sending this, my darling! it's always good to refresh the pallet, and this ask really got me thinking!
let's get into it!
kinda-sorta wedding AU HC's
pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Saltburn
word count: 1.4k+
warnings: suspiciously none
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so your question all depends on the Reader, but i'll try to answer best i can.
the Saltburn wedding is definitely a huge, extravagant ordeal. the Cattons are well connected, so, it wouldn't just be Felix and Reader's peers attending, but ALL family from both sides, as well as family friends, too. Reader's family is invited to Saltburn a week before matrimony; where they try to help, but the Cattons have hired 3 different wedding planners to make this the most talked-about event in any social circles.
every room in Saltburn is cleaned and decorated. an abundance of flowers are shipped in to be hung from the ceilings and bannisters. there's BOTH a live band and a DJ, an erected outdoor dance floor.
now, i can see two different things: 1. Felix and Reader marry in the local church and then the reception is hosted at Saltburn. 2. they marry on Saltburn's property and still have the big ass reception on the grounds.
either way, it's most def a summer wedding to utilize optimal weather. it's a reason to wear the best clothes, drink expensive liquor excessively, and indulge in gluttony. it's a night designed to make attendants jealous.
there's well over 300 people, Sir James and Elspeth combing through their address books to send invites even to family friends they haven't spoken to in years. they're the kind of parents that take advantage of their child getting married; it's the best excuse to show off and have a grand celebration, to prove the family doesn't do anything half-assed. if they can throw extravagant parties just for the hell of it, they definitely feel pressure to out-do themselves.
it's like this wedding isn't *for* Felix and Reader, but more so for the Cattons to show up and show out. it's not about a union of two people, but an excuse to gloat and smash their privilege in everyone's face.
Felix eats it up 'cause it's all he knows, the spoilt rich boy, but Reader's a little uncomfortable with the sheer size and details of her wedding. but in the same breath, she's relaxed because she KNOWS this is just how the Cattons operate and she doesn't really have to lift a single finger.
so, Reader lets Elspeth plan her ideal wedding - 'cause there's no way she's not involved. they make some decisions together, it's a bonding experience for Reader and her soon-to-be MIL, but for the most part, it's the matriarch doing most of the heavy lifting.
Felix and Reader only get to decide on wedding colors, catering options, and the cake. and even then, they have to endure his family's opinions.
Reader doesn't even get to 100% choose her dress, hair, and make up. Elspeth basically decides everything. i agree with you and think Mrs. Catton would impose herself even on the wedding dress selection, becoming persnickety, opinionated, and a little snarky when Reader shows off her dresses. this causes tension with Reader's family, who think the older woman far too self-important, and maybe it's Reader's mother or sister that stands up to her and insists Elspeth keep quiet since this *isn't* her wedding and they don't want any influences on Reader. they want Reader to choose her perfect wedding dress without scrutiny since she has no say in anything else.
in fact, maybe - juuuuuust maybe - Reader's family takes her to shop for a wedding dress without Elspeth in an effort to dial down the stress. it's not meant maliciously, but Elspeth simply cannot help herself and takes over everything; so, Reader's family figures if she's not there, Reader can make a decision *for herself*.
when Elspeth finds out, she's hurt, but it's Sir James that calms his wife down by reminding her that she had something not-so-nice to say about damn near every single dress Reader tries on. so, she accepts this one detail being out of her control.
the entire wedding screams "old money" because half of the decorations and details are wildly redundant, but there's no such thing as cost to the family. Elspeth is def living vicariously because she thinks she knows best, so she spares no expense - perhaps even going as far as to rent exotic peacocks to roam the grounds simply because the Cattons can!
they're definitely going "Crazy Rich Asians" in the sense that Felix's marriage is going to be the event of the decade, like Collin and Araminta's wedding. again, it's not even about the union but just a chance for the Cattons to remind everyone that they were lesser-than. Felix thinks it's normal, he thinks this is how it's supposed to be 'cause he's def removed from reality, and truth be told, he loves the attention. the bragging rights.
Felix might be a bit more reserved than his family, but he's still a Catton and glamour is *all* he knows, especially for an event like this. he doesn't stand up to his parents because they're paying for everything, which makes him feels as if he's not entitled to an opinion. so, he lets Sir James and Elspeth plan the wedding they want since all Felix has to do is show up. he'll do his best to alleviate stress, acting as a buffer between his betrothed and parents, but he doesn't dare open his mouth.
this is marketed as a once in a lifetime celebration, so nobody is willing to butt heads with Sir and Mrs. Catton.
on that note, yeah, i can see Felix having an intimate proposal. maybe in the field at sunset, maybe at a cafe in town, but not in bed. he's got a flare for the dramatic, so odds are, he's actually down on one knee. he's young, so he doesn't need to make a huge ordeal for the proposal since it's an incredibly intimate moment. he might even proposal on a whim / impulsively. he's had a ring for months, planning the best moment to ask Reader, but he gets anxious and one day, it just happens. it feels right. Felix has that burning feeling that he needs to ask now else he'll fuck up his plan in the future by being so nervous. so, yeah, he just asks one day - barely even thinks about it! he just knows Reader is who he wants, so why plan the "perfect moment" when an opportunity organically presents itself?
now, Venetia can be a bridesmaid, but she's not MOH. again, depends on the reader, but i imagine Reader's sister or her own best friend should be MOH. Reader wants Ven involved in everything, but no, she's not gonna be the one standing next to Reader when she gets married. Ven helps decide bridesmaid dresses, works with Reader's sister and / or best friend to plan the bachelorette party, and is present for any conflict between Reader and Elspeth. she's sorta like a tie breaker because Felix is on Reader's side and Sir James is on Elspeth's. Ven is the one who helps keep Elspeth under control, the only one bold enough to stand up to her mother without fear of repercussions. she sees how Reader is struggling to both have the wedding of her dreams and respect for her MIL, so, Ven imposes herself to give Reader a break. to be the voice Reader lost.
and just because it's fun, YES, Duncan is def in attendance, handing the Cattons and Reader's family tissues during the emotional moments of the wedding. he eats two slices of cake. and for the fuck of it, you bet your ass Duncan lets loose a little and Cabbage Patches on the dance floor.
i think it's nice to imagine Felix being all cute and intimate, but personally, i think he's so far deep in his family's way of living to truly be humble. sure, Reader anchors him to reality, but he still lives this extravagant life so he doesn't know the definition of "humble". but that's why i said, it depends on your reader - but in my opinion, Felix is a little too spoilt to have the forethought to marry privately. or maybe he knows it's a fight not worth having with his parents, that no matter what, they're going to do what they want.
so maybe Felix is the one encouraging Reader to just "go with the flow" because resisting is futile. perhaps Reader comes around to the idea of a grand wedding because she knows she'd never have this sort of experience with anyone else; so, why not bask in it?
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ah, i love these. they're so much fun! thank you for sending in, baby girl! all my love 🖤
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ursemma · 12 days
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"I'll always love you" Pt 4 (final)
Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3
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Mattheo Riddle × y/n
Theodore nott × y/n (ex)
Warning: fighting, tension, Theodore being a dick, jealousy, angst.
Summary: after your first day in London, you thought you'll make it through the wedding without any drama, well fate has different plans for you I guess.
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"it's Theodore, darling" I answered Mattheo as I felt his hands sliding on my waist, "hey nice to meet you, I'm Mattheo. Mattheo Riddle, y/n's boyfriend". He greeted Theodore while emphasizing on the word boyfriend.
"Oh hi, I'm Theodore, I was just here to invite you both to the bonfire, I'll take my leave now." Theodore said while his eyes wondering between me and Matty.
"sure we'll be there!" I answered him before shutting the door.
"you might wanna get dressed Mr Riddle, wouldn't want anyone to see you like this would you?" I said while throwing his clothes at him, instead of taking them he back hugged me and whispered in my ear, "what's the point of wearing them if you are gonna remove them anyway?." "well as much as I'd like to grant you your wishes, I think my friends are waiting for us, so go hushh and wear your clothes." I said while pushing him inside the bathroom before he could protest.
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We all sat down in circle and everyone was laughing and chit chatting, suddenly Enzo asked us a question, "so tell us about how you and Mattheo hit off." I looked at everyone who were looking at me with teasing eyes, except for that one couple who were rather looking at me as if I was about to reveal a scandal.
"well we both met at a bar." I replied with shrug not wanting to expose the real events that had happened between us.
It looks like Mattheo got the hint and continued "yeah, she was drinking and I asked her for a drink, after aloot of efforts she finally gave in. We chat and got know eachother and then I asked her out on the next day. Pretty cliche i know, but we're old school so it works for us." I grinned at his response and everyone was teasing us.
The night went on smoothly and soon we were in our bed sleeping soundly while cuddling eachother.
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The next day arrived quickly and, today we had to do two tasks, first shopping for bridesmaid dress, and second decorations.
Me and Mattheo had arrived at the mall for my dress, he was judging my dresses, and I was doing a fashion show for him.
I had my 20th dress on, and it seems like Mattheo didn't liked it, again.
I took a deep frustrated sigh and said, "well if you don't like my outfit go ahead and pick up a dress for me by yourself!" "Okay" he said with a shrug and went to find a dress for me.
While he was looking for the dress I saw a male employee approaching me, "hey I just wanted to say, you're beautiful." He said while looking at me, "thankyou so much!" I replied.
"i was wondering if you'd like to have a coffee with me?" He asked me and I was surprised, i don't know what to answer.
And before I could reply Mattheo came with a gorgeous Emerald green dress in his hands. "Here I found this." He spoke plainly. Weird.
"I hope I get an answer soon." That employee said in hope before walking away.
"that's gorgeous Matty!" I took the dress and tried it on, it looked beautiful. I nervously walked out of the trial room and Mattheo and I made an eye contact, "you- you look beautiful." He said while checking me out, "thank you, so this is it?" I asked him and he said "yes it's perfect".
We got the dress and sat inside the car, the car was silent which was unusual, Mattheo didn't even sing a song with me. I was hurt, I wonder what happened to him.
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We were decorating the wedding venue on our own because we wanted it to be special. Mattheo still hasn't spoke a word to me.
"Mattheo." I whispered to him but recived no answer, I tried 2 times more, but instead of replying to me, he was going to walk away, so I grabbed his wrist quickly and pulled him towards me, "talk to me." I said and before he could reply we heard a loud bang.
Every one turned around to see Theodore throwing a box on the ground.
"what's wrong with you!!" Astoria yelled at him, "you know what? She. That's what's wrong with me!" He shouted while pointing at me.
Gasping i said "what did I did to you?!" He looked at me with mix emotions and said, "i married to Daphne because I thought was over you, but no! Then you had to show up here with your boyfriend having the happy ending while I suffer in silent!" "It's not my fault okay? And don't you dare to put the blame on me, you caused the misunderstanding Theodore! And then when I left you, you didn't even came back to me for second chance! And after a month of waiting for you, I get the invitation to your marriage! I thought you changed Theodore, i really thought, but today you proved me wrong just like you always did, And trust me after what is happening now, I regret ever loving you!" Before he could speak Mattheo replied, "hey man I don't know what's wrong with you, but whatever it is sort it by yourself, for whatever you did you have no one to blame it on, especially not my girlfriend. t's on you, you did it to yourself. And don't you dare to raise your voice at her. She's happy with me and I assure you she will be. Get your ass out of my relationship and her life."
Theodore left after what Mattheo said to him and i rushed to bathroom. I couldn't take it anymore. At first he was ignoring me and now he's acting like he actually cares.
I broke down while looking into the mirror and someone opened the door, i didn't need to take a look to know who was it, I knew it was Mattheo by his perfume.
"get out." I told him because I didn't wanted to speak to him.
"you're not doing this." He said while coming closer, "oh so you get to ignore me the entire afternoon and evening and i can't ignore you?" I spoke while scoffing at him, at his hypocrisy.
"I had my reasons" he said. "I wanna know them then. Because you know what I can't stand it anymore! You don't get to ignore me Mattheo then stand up for myself! You don't get to leave me lingering with questions about what if you don't want me anymore! You don't get to leave me doubted about who we are! I don't even know what to say to the guys who i turned down when they ask me if I have a boyfriend! You don't get play with my feelings Mattheo! You don't get to tell me you love me and then leave me questioning if you actually mean it!" I couldn't hold it anymore so I confronted him finally.
"I know, love, I know, and I have answers to your each and every question, I ignored you because I was jealous. I don't know what took over me but when the guy at the mall asked you out i couldn't help but feel jealous at the thought of you going on a date with someone who's not me. and I want you, today, tomorrow and everyday, I'll always want you. And I didn't mean to play with your feelings, I was just too afaird of saying mine that it unintentionally happened and I'm sorry for that, and whenever I said I love you, i really meant it. And as for who we are, I really want you to be my wife. But for now we'll take things slow, so y/n l/n, will you make me the luckiest man ever by being my girlfriend, a real one?" He looked at me with teary eyes as he said each and every word of it.
"do you really mean it?" I asked him with confusion, "I do, i really do" he spoke with sincerity, I laughed and screamed yes.
We both went back to do the remaining decoration and saw everyone there except the Daphne and Theodore.
"hey we're really sorry for that" Blaise spoke with shame all over his face, "hey it's okay and it's not your fault, i really thought he changed but I guess he didn't." I reassured him.
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After the decoration we went to sleep, and i couldn't help but think about tomorrow.
The wedding was finally happening, I saw Astoria walking down the aisle with her father, and Draco with teary eyes looking at her.
I felt Mattheo's hot breath on my neck as he spoke, "one day this would be us, you'll walk down the aisle and I'll be looking at you with happy tears in my eyes." I felt him back hugging me and i couldn't help but smile at his words while thinking about our wedding.
The wedding ended with Draco and Astoria kissing eachother.
She threw her wedding bouquet and i was the one who caught it, I looked at Mattheo in suprise and he hugged me and knelt down on his knees, "I know it's too soon for a engagement ring, so I bought you a promise ring, y/n, i promise to love and cherish you till the day I die, will you promise me to do the same and marry me one day?" "Yess Mattheo yess!" I hugged him with tears in my eyes and everyone cheered for us, Astoria and Draco walked towards us and said, "well y/n/n you did for your fairy tale happily ever after, I'm so happy for you honey." She hugged me and i hugged her back, "I got mine out of a fairy tale book, but you tori! You got it straight out of a fanfiction, the nerdy girl × spoiled playboy! Who would've thought!" "Hey I'm right here!" Draco spoke and we all did a group hug.
This was the begining of a new start, for which I was really excited.
✧The end✧
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The story finally comes to an end~ please make sure to comment if you like it or not and do give me suggestions and recommendations for next story!
Love you all
Xoxo~
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Taglist:
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