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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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sugar sugar - the proposal

Summary: For their second year anniversary, Henry and Becky are going to Rome, Italy to celebrate.

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Slight Daddy kink

Wordcount: 2.5k

A/N: GUESS WHO’S GETTING MARRIED??? OUR FAVORITE COUPLE

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist //

September 23rd 8 p.m.

The sun in shining, the birds are chirping and the soft breeze brushes through my hair. This is Rome in September and I know that if I said to Henry I would want to go here every September, he’d arrange it for us.

Just like he did now, Henry would arrange the most beautiful presidential suite with a balcony, a jacuzzi and the softest bed you’ve ever slept on. Sometimes I’m afraid I’m getting too spoiled, but when I express my fears to him, he simply leans down, gives me a kiss and tells me I deserve it and should enjoy it.

To spend our second year anniversary in a city like Rome, is something I never imagined. I actually never imagined that I would ever spend an anniversary with someone. Not because I don’t have any faith in Henry and me, but more because I never thought I’d be in a loving relationship, long enough to spend these types of anniversaries together.

The two of us decided that the day we met, would be our anniversary date.

September 23rd. Two years ago we met. Two years ago he changed my life forever and I changed his.

Henry holds my hand tightly in his. ‘I love you,’ he says, kissing the back of my hand.

I chuckle. ‘I love you too, honey. It’s been two years since we’ve met.’

‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘time flew by.’

‘It sure did,’ I say to him.

‘Not only have I gained the best archivist Midnight ever had, but I also got a beautiful girlfriend and I can now say that I’m the boyfriend of a New York Times Bestselling Author with an extra book deal.’

Even after we spend so much time together and we know each other so well, I still blush around him when he hands out compliments like that. ‘That’s so sweet,’ I say. ‘Where are we going?’

‘A nice place I rented. It’s I think a few minutes from here.’

‘You rented an entire place?’ I ask him.

‘Just one floor,’ he says with a shit eating grin on his face, the one he has recently discovered when he shamelessly flaunts his wealth in my face. I want to roll my eyes, but seeing Henry this confident and cocky and happy, makes me laugh as well.

After our first anniversary, a lot changed for the two of us. I still work in the archives, but mostly because I liked it there and it gave me plenty of time to not only work on my first book, but also on my second one. The following February, two weeks before my birthday, my book got released and not long after that, I reached the number three on the New York Times Bestselling list. My book reached number three! My debut novel. It’s unbelievable. It’s all thanks to the magnificent job Roger and his team has been doing to advertise my book to the public. I was never on Instagram, because I didn’t have a phone that would allow it and when I met Henry, I didn’t really think about it anymore. But now, I’m officially on Instagram and while it’s a bit weird, I still really enjoy to see the beautiful fan art and the stories of the readers about what my book did to them personally.

I moved out of my first apartment, since I was hanging around Henry’s place most of the time anyway. I mean, his place has the private gym and we added a sauna to it, because he didn’t forget my joke from a while ago. My pink and pastel influences are shattered around his place now and in his home office, we placed another desk, so we could work together.

Yes, we are that type of couple.

Despite our age gap, I barely notice it in our day to day life. He is in such good shape for someone who is only two years away from hitting fifty and he is really up to date with trends and technology. I mean, call me digital illiterate, because he had to show me how Instagram worked. I don’t want to say he’s old (because it’s obvious he is older than me), but I thought that eventually I would notice the difference in age.

I don’t.

It’s just that sometimes he says something about his grayish hairs, how he isn’t in the best shape anymore and how he needs to watch his food, after a check up. Honestly, I don’t see his “bad” shape. I only fall more and more in love with him. Besides, the second he becomes a complete silver fox, is also the second I will jump him every chance I get.

‘Thank you for taking me to Rome,’ I say. ‘I can’t wait to travel to even more countries with you. I’m such a lucky woman. All those beautiful places in the world, right at my finger tips. Isn’t that amazing?’

‘It sure is.’

‘Is there a place in the world you want to see?’

‘Well, as long as you are there with me, I’d love any place. Besides, I did my fair share of traveling, I’ve seen a lot. It doesn’t matter to me.’

‘You don’t mind that I’m awfully inexperienced with traveling?’

He scoffs. ‘No, of course not. It makes the experience even better. That way I can show you all the beautiful places in the world and see your surprised face.’

We walk into a restaurant and the waiter escorts us to the elevator. We go up and we actually get out on the roof. My mouth falls open, before I squeal. ‘Honey, this is fantastic.’ I give him a kiss and the two of us walk towards the table. He helps me in my seat, before he sits across from me. He pours in some wine for me.

‘You like it?’ he asks.

‘Of course. Everything you arrange for me I love.’ I look over my shoulder, to see the waiter has left. ‘I love what you do for me, daddy.’

He bites his lip. ‘I’m going to sound like a broken record, baby girl, but I love it when you call me like that.’

‘I know.’ I look around, admiring the view and say: ‘Thank you for arranging this for us.’

‘I want the best for my baby girl,’ he says with a smile. ‘Only the best.’ He holds out his hand and I place mine in it. ‘You know, I sometimes can’t believe I actually met you.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, when I signed up, I only did it because I didn’t want to be alone anymore. Never in a million years I expected myself falling head over heels with you, when the two of us were only supposed to have a sugar daddy/baby thing. But you were just amazing, kind and caring. Beautiful, considerate and funny. I remember when I first laid my eyes on you. I thought to myself: this could actually be it. This could be the woman I’ll fall for and for me to love endlessly.’

That… Is so sweet.

‘I kept thinking about every pro and con. While our personalities matched, you were a lot younger than I were. While I finally had someone who I can give the life she deserves, there is a possibility she’ll never see me as more than just a sugar daddy. It was difficult, because you were more than a sugar baby to me, though I tried to deny that multiple times. The relief I felt when you and I… That we have what we have. That you stayed when I needed you and vice versa.’

I smile. ‘Of course I did, silly. I have never felt this about someone ever before nor will I ever feel about this about anyone.’

Henry nods. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you,’ he says. ‘I want us to build a future together. I want to buy a house with you, have a dog and tons of kids with you, though it has to be an even number. But before we do that, there is just one thing I need to ask you.’

Henry gets up from the chair, searches his pocket and I see he has a blush pink velvet box in his hand.

Is this what I think it is?

‘My sweet Becky,’ he says, sitting down on one knee, ‘it’d be such an honor if you would become my wife, that you are gonna be mrs. Cavill. Baby girl, will you marry me?’

He reveals such a delicate and beautiful ring to me.

Maybe, maybe, I’m experiencing some shock. I knew that Henry would propose to me one day, he literally told me so many times that he’d propose, but now that it’s happening, I just can’t believe it.

‘Really?’

He smiles. ‘Really, my love. There is no one else in the world I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. You are the only one. My only one.’

I place my shaking hand in front of my lips. ‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes. I want to marry you, Henry.’

He takes the ring from the little box, before gently sliding it on my finger. I look at it for a few seconds, before I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

‘We’re engaged?’ I ask him.

‘Yes, baby, we’re engaged.’

I press my lips on his, as tears of joy and happiness drip down my face. I’m gonna get married.

‘Oh yeah, our Becky is engaged!’ I look over my shoulder to see Genevieve, Viola, Noah and Greg rushing up to me and is that Gino I see, with Peter from the boutique?

‘Show me the ring,’ Viola says and I hold out my hand.

Noah lets out a whistle. ‘Damn, mister Cavill.’

Gino gives me a big hug and two kisses on my cheeks. ‘Congratulations, darling.’

I can’t believe Henry flew out our friends to Italy, but it totally seems like something he would do. I bet he arranged a private jet for them and the best hotel.

‘We’re getting married,’ Genevieve shouts.

‘Technically, sweetheart,’ Greg says, ‘it’s Becky that is getting married.’

Genevieve rolls her eyes. ‘Well, Viola and I are gonna be bridesmaids and we’re going to plan a wedding. The ring is absolutely beautiful. Really, Henry, you need to help out Greg when he wants to propose to me.’

Henry chuckles, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. ‘I’ll help him out when the time is right, Gen.’ He kisses my temple and says: ‘How about we celebrate?’

✤ ✤ ✤

I keep staring at my ring, mainly because it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and it’s mine. While Henry’s checking the locks, I’m already in bed. This ring still takes my breath away. It’s gorgeous and I bet it was expensive.

‘There she is,’ Henry says, as he walks in the bedroom in just his boxers. ‘My beautiful fiancée.’

‘I am sure it’ll take awhile before I get used to that,’ I say.

Henry steps underneath the covers and ushers me over. ‘But you’ll always be my baby girl,’ he says. ‘Even when you become my wife.’

I hum in content, as I nestle myself against him, in his strong embrace. ‘Just like you’ll always be my daddy,’ I whisper. I place my head on his thick arm, so I can look up at him and still stare at his handsome face. ‘We need to start planning a wedding. When do you want to get married?’

‘I don’t mind,’ he says. ‘We could even elope.’

‘We’re never going to elope,’ I say. ‘Don’t you ever say that again. I deserve a wedding. Back in juvie, both times, I’d envision myself getting married, buying a house, having a family and growing older with someone. I owe it to teen Becky to have a fantastic wedding.’

He chuckles. ‘Okay, we will not elope. What did you think about back then?’

‘A spring wedding outside,’ I say, ‘with pink blossom trees around us. A tent or a large cabin or something where we’ll get married and afterwards, people can dance, eat and talk to each other. A Photo Booth for people to make pictures on. Disposable camera’s on the tables and a photographer. My friends and their family are there, your friends. I want it to be intimate, but not too small, like maybe fifty to seventy people. I want a wedding dress on the tighter side, but I have never tried on wedding dresses, so I might be surprised. But I want to dress to have little illusion sleeves, a veil and a hairband with diamonds.’

Henry nods in approval. ‘Sounds lovely and that can all be arranged. What do you want me to wear?’

‘Champagne colored suit,’ I say. ‘The bridesmaids dresses could be in a pastel color. Okay, who am I kidding? I want those dresses to be pink.’

‘Of course.’ He lets out a content sigh. ‘We can arrange all sorts of things. Whatever you want for the wedding, it’s yours.’

‘And I want the date and each other’s names engraved in the inside of the ring.’

‘I love that.’ Henry gives me a kiss on my forehead. ‘A lot to plan, but also a lot to look forward to. I cannot wait to call you my wife.’

‘Oh, me neither. And then after that, we can start our life together as a married couple.’

‘At least four kids, right?’ Henry jokes.

‘At least,’ I say in all seriousness.

‘Why don’t you want an uneven number?’

I scrunch up my nose. ‘Because I come from a family of uneven number. I don’t want that. I know, it’s stupid, but…’

‘It’s not stupid, it’s understandable,’ he says. ‘So, for imaginary sake, let’s say you and I have five kids.’

‘Damn.’

‘Imaginary sake, baby girl, remember that,’ he snickers. ‘And then we have twins, making it seven.’

‘We’ll go for the eighth,’ I say to him. ‘Really, Henry.’

He laughs. ‘Wow, you’re quite something.’

‘You’re up for it?’

‘With you? Of course. I can’t wait to have multiple mini you’s and me’s running around to place.’ He pulls me closer and says: ‘You’ll be an amazing mother, I just know it.’

‘And you’ll be an amazing dad.’ I circle my finger around his chest. ‘Would you mind if I stopped working as your archivist and become a stay at home mom, who also writes?’

He shakes his head. ‘Of course I don’t mind. Whatever you want, I support you.’

‘You don’t think it’s weird?’

He frowns. ‘Why would I think it’s weird? Honestly, baby girl, if you wanted to become a career woman, I’d support it. If you want to become a stay at home mom, I also support it. No matter what you do, I’m your biggest supporter and fan.’ He gives me a sweet peck on my lips. ‘Don’t you worry about those things, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I whisper, already a bit more at ease. ‘You know, it has always been my dream to become a mother.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘It’s just that I figured I’d never meet someone who I wanted kids with. With the dysfunctional family I’m from, I wanted a partner who I could trust and rely on. And that partner is you, Henry. My future husband.’

✤ ✤ ✤

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x becky kim #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #sugar sugar the wedding #becky kim

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wh6res · 3 years

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taeil — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. soulmates are connected by a red string.

synopsis. taeil thinks the whole system is bullshit. he needs to take matters into his own hands.

warnings. tread cautiously. swearing, mentions of death, blood, mentions of kidnapping, violence, turning a 'lil dubcon near the end, severe stockholm syndrome, manipulation

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.

thank you to. sexeh sam @yukwonghei, cutie charlie @dundun-baby, and baby rina @greenish-taro for beta-reading!

since he was a kid, he’s fantasized about meeting his soulmate. creating scenario after scenario of how he’d meet ‘the one’ as he had cheesily addressed and had absolutely freaked when he finally saw the red string tied around his right wrist on his 20th birthday—courtesy of the soulmate rules of the universe, where one will finally be able to see the string tied around their body once they’ve come of age.

for years before he met that other soul who’s destined to be with him, taeil would stare at the red thread lying across the floor, disappearing under the gap of his door and out to the world unknown. he’d be so distracted, so aloof and in his own world as he anticipates the long-awaited day until his professor calls him out—“moon! do yourself a favor and stop daydreaming!”

until his friends snap him out of it—“thinking of them again? really?”

until his parents shake him out of his thoughts—“don’t worry, i bet they’ll love you!”

sometimes he just loved staring at the string, it was something so measly as a bunch of threads intricately woven together yet it held such a symbol in today’s world. call him lovesick or stupid but was it really wrong to feel excited? taeil’s even betting the person on the other side of this string is just as excited as he was, if not more.

in the man’s eyes, the strings are a symbol of something more than love—it symbolized the person the universe has created especially for him and no one else.

taeil can’t even imagine a world without these strings. how difficult it would be, to love and invest in someone who will only end up breaking your heart? no, the strings also meant reassurance.

assurance that he won’t get hurt.

an assurance of faithfulness.

he had only been a wide-eyed fresh grad looking for some place to intern when it happened. like a scene right out of a cheesy romance movie—he felt the persistent tugs of the string before finally meeting his soulmate. well, using the word meet to describe the whole ordeal is a huge stretch because it was more of a holy shit, is that my soulmate? rather than a hi, i'm your soulmate, taeil!

he merely saw the back of her poised figure but taeil’s heart felt like it wanted to explode, his emotions a mess and feeling everything to the extremes. nervous. scared. anxiety. happiness. excitement—it was all coming at him like bullets.

as taeil stared at her back, walking away, johnny kept shoving him forward, encouraging him to finally approach the person he’s been waiting for ever since that soulmate string appeared around his pinky.

but he couldn’t—not because he was so anxious he’d accidentally vomit the 4-cheese whopper he had for lunch but due to the line of people trailing behind his soulmate like a bunch of baby ducks to their mom. the thought of coming up to his soulmate and introducing himself in front of all those people?

romantic, maybe, but taeil doesn’t have the stomach to do that.

he remembers how much johnny had wolf whistled, unbelieving of the fact his friend managed to snag the possible heir to the company they’re attending an interview in as his soulmate.

“lucky little asshole,” johnny muttered.

taeil had been experiencing the post-effects of seeing his soulmate that he just weakly punched johnny’s arm for the heck of it. he probably didn’t even hear the name his younger friend had called him. taeil’s mind is clouding over, no thoughts in his head but the white polo shirt she wore, sleeves neatly rolled up, and the black pencil skirt hugging her legs and making her ass look so plump.

focus. he needs to focus on the interview right now or else he won’t even have the chance to work here and officially meet her. everything the interviewer asked passed through his head like paper planes in a classroom, shamelessly asking the woman sitting before him to repeat the question, too busy reveling about how their soulmate story would be the cliché office-love. not that taeil minds, he’d love going to work together—

two weeks later, johnny receives an email of acceptance. taeil doesn’t.

the man nearly threw his laptop away out of sheer disbelief and anger. okay, sure, maybe he could’ve done better in the interview but he graduated with latin honors in college! and from a prestigious college at that. he shouldn’t even be applying as a mere intern with the skill set he had yet he went with it because he’d always dreamed of working there.

and now knowing his soulmate is possibly someone who holds a high position in the company? everything just kept getting better and better for moon taeil.

except for that fucking email—pft, or lack thereof. how can they not accept him when he’s more capable than johnny, anyway? for fuck’s sake! taeil doesn’t even ask that guy for rent and he’s so thick-skinned that he stayed up to this day and freeloaded off taeil’s food and shelter.

the absolute unfairness of the situation makes taeil’s blood reach a fever point. he’s completely lossed it, leading him to spit “get the fuck out!” to the other male occupant in the apartment with eyes glaring and lips pulled into a nasty sneer.

johnny’s never seen taeil this upset before and decided that he’d be better off abiding by the older man’s wishes instead of contradicting it.

no. no. no. this can’t be happening. if taeil doesn’t work there, with her, all his sweet fantasies won’t come true and god forbid she ends up falling for another person in the company.

anyone would be naturally drawn to taeil’s soulmate. in his eyes, she’s a goddess in the flesh. taeil doesn’t even need to see her face, from the few seconds he saw a glimpse of her, her presence and allure in itself is already eye-catching. the way her low ponytail swished from side to side as she walked, her back straight and head held high.

taeil needs to see her again. maybe if she finds out he’s her soulmate she’ll put a good word in and he’ll get hired.

yeah. yeah, that’s a good plan.

“please get out of my office or i’ll call security.”

or not.

“no, wait. but i just said i’m your soulmate!” to further prove his point, he even raises up his pinky and sure enough the other end of the string is tied around hers. the incessant pull is there and if not for her sharp cold eyes anchoring him to the ground, taeil would’ve long been soaring high in cloud nine.

“and i said i don’t care,” she snaps just as her fingers sneakily pressed a button in her phone. “i have a fiancé. the whole soulmate bullshit doesn’t apply to rich people. so for the fucking last time, get out of my office.”

“but—”

the double doors of the vice president’s office bounces off the walls when two burly guards barge in. dressed in a white long sleeves and those heavy tinted shades of glasses that taeil hates. the two men waste no time in hooking their arms underneath the smaller, frail man as he thrashes against their arms.

“how can you not care about your soulmate?!” taeil can feel the beginning licks of the flames eating up his whole world as everything comes crashing down before his very eyes. “i’ve been—i’ve been waiting my whole life for you and this is how you treat me?!”

he doesn’t know what hurts more, the scratch in his throat as he screamed with all his might or the stoic look written on her face as the guards haul him away.

when johnny heard the news he’d never felt so sorry for his friend. rumors that initially circulated only between the executive board members had spread and trickled down to the common folk on the lower levels. johnny making it a mission to find out, had extracted himself from his usual cheery and extroverted self to blend in with the background. taeil has yet to talk to him after he got kicked out, so asking his friend—or ex-friend?—about what happened is out of the question.

but like any other breed of rumor, the tale of their vice president’s soulmate barging in her office is ever changing through each mouth that tells the story. johnny doesn't know what to believe in. he’s been trying to put off a meeting with the older man ever since he started crashing in taeyong’s apartment instead. not that taeil himself even tried reaching out to johnny, anyway.

so why should he, when he doesn’t even know what he did wrong?

but there’s a nagging voice at the back of johnny’s head. his conscience isn’t too loud but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there and it doesn’t need excessive volumes to be heard. all it takes is a second of distraction from the paperwork he does, attention straying from the task at hand, and his body will automatically be wracked with guilt.

knowing how much taeil had waited for his soulmate to come to his life, knowing how taeil can readily give everything up for his soulmate without even meeting them yet… and now knowing taeil just got the worst ever rejection in his entire life?

johnny can’t possibly imagine the pain he’s going through. is he really going to choose now out of all times to be petty because taeil kicked him out when he didn’t even bother asking johnny for anything in return during his stay in the apartment?

so when taeil finally contacted him, the sketchyness of what he had asked for flew right over johnny’s head. rational thoughts flying out the window because taeil needs him, he should his friend after everything taeil did for him—

“hey, uhm… i need insider’s information, can you do that for me?”

you shook your head at the long story johnny told you. tuffs of your hair have escaped the intricate pigtails taeil has put your hair up in earlier before he left for work. he’s always hated having your hair messy, but at the moment you couldn’t find yourself to care.

“i wouldn’t put it past taeil’s original soulmate…” you think aloud, mouth speaking before you can stop yourself as you stare disdainfully at the dulled string wrapped around your pinky—it lost its divine red glow after your captor had cut it off on the same day he whisked you away.

ironic, how easy it was to destroy something so important.

you backtracked, realizing the gravity of what you said before looking up at your captor’s friend. johnny doesn’t look all too impressed and he sighs at the pleading look in your eyes. please, don’t tell him.

“i guess you’re somewhat right…” he gives in, coursing his fingers through his hair. “taeil had been… very passionate on finding his soulmate. but i mean, come on, why’d you even marry someone who isn’t your soulmate? i don’t blame taeil for doing what he did to them.”

johnny ignores the way your breath hitches and your body halts all movement. “what—what did he do?”

“paid them a ‘lil visit after gathering enough resources from someone on the inside,” his face stoic, voice monotone. johnny doesn’t like talking about this one. “he studied their schedules, where they live, where they work, how they get to work, what time they sleep, what time they wake. then just one day…”

he drags a finger across his neck.

“oh.”

pathetically, it was all you can say. why did you even bother to ask, anyway? if taeil had been willing to exert force just to keep you in line, then he has the stomach for whatever gruesome deaths he subjected his soulmate and her fiancé to.

you nibble on your lip as you stare at the knot of thread lying on the floor. you don’t see the need to wear the collar wrapped around your neck when that knot is good enough a reminder that you’re now bound to taeil. that he’s fucked around with your destiny and decided he’ll have you out of all people.

its hard to believe taeil once almost worshipped the soulmate bonds, not when all he’s ever done is look at it like it's the bane of his existence and calling it a curse to humanity.

“do you know that you’re—”

“that i’m the 5th? yeah, i know. i saw all the knots on his string.” you defeatedly say, a vivid image of the knots spaced across his string like tophies. “taeil doesn’t like me staring at them, though.”

and you yourself didn’t like staring at them. you never thought something so small and insignificant can mean something so sinister. the knots on his string acting like a body counter. will he get sick of you one day and you’ll just be another knot on his string?

“you’re nothing like his soulmate—i’m not insulting you or anything, i’m just saying the truth. the past girls all had at least something in common with her but you… nothing. not even your hair shines like hers, and that’s even after taeil has taken good care of you.”

this doesn’t soothe you in any sense and before you can open your mouth to retort, the familiar beeping of the code getting punched into the keypad cuts you off.

taeil stood in the entrance as he shrugged off his coat, his polo crinkled at some areas and pieces of his hair had escaped that slicked back hairstyle.

“you’re home early…”

your blood runs cold when he doesn’t even offer you a glance, skipping you out and immediately addressing johnny. “i thought i told you to go home already after delivering the food.”

you admire the way johnny’s eyes roll. must be nice not to be so fucking terrified of the man. “yeah, but your current sweetheart here was lonely and practically begged me to stay.”

the sting of betrayal never grows familiar.

“i never said anything—”

“you did, have you forgotten already?” you hate the show of lust clouding in johnny’s eyes as he stares you down. this can’t be happening right now. “have you forgotten how you even came unto me? whined like a bitch about how taeil doesn’t even fuck you hard enough and you had to fake orgasms all the time?”

“that’s not true!” your frustration manifests as tears. they sting your eyes as you look at taeil. “i never said anything—”

but you pale when you realize they’re not even listening to you, the two guys fist bumping in the foyer and exchanging a few words like “thanks for telling me,” and “no problem, bro,” were heard before taeil is heatedly storming up to you.

you feel numb as you look over taeil’s shoulder at the little smirk johnny shoots at you. have fun, he mouths mockingly and then he’s out the door, extracting himself from the mess he created.

when taeil wordlessly drags you across the hallway, you thought he’ll make a right turn and into the bedroom but imagine your surprise when he pulls you instead towards the bathroom. he wastes no time throwing you against the cold hard tiles as he tells you only one thing.

“strip.”

“taeil…”

“you don’t want to be replaced.” it doesn’t take a genius to know taeil had hit the nail on the head. all your movements come to a halt, looking up at him with an unreadable look in your face. “that’s your fear, isn’t it? that if you die, if i kill you, i can just look for another girl and you’d be forgotten at the snap of a finger. i’m right, aren’t i?”

you gulp, his words stinging even if he didn’t mean for it to sting. or maybe he did. taeil takes a step closer to you, studying your appearance as he brings a hand up to caress your tear-stained face.

spots in your clothes are wet due to the splashes of water on the tiles, and the clips in your hair that once looked neat and perfect are now hanging in disarray, falling off in some places.

“i’m sorry,” you sob. “i’m sorry, john—johnny’s lying. you—you have to—to believe me. please don’t replace me… i’ll be good, i promise…”

truly, there’s no better motivator than fear. and there’s no better way to mess with someone’s head than using their weakness against them.

“you say you’ll be good but i tell you to strip and you couldn’t even do that?”

taeil could never imagine replacing you. he finds it stupid, whatever that brought in this fear of yours, but it doesn’t mean he won’t be extracting every little bit he can get out of this.

he can only stare in awe when you start wiggling your way out of your pretty pink clothes, eyes drinking every bit of your skin slowly being exposed to him as he reaches behind you to open the running water, slowly filling the bathtub.

“get in,” he instructs and you waste no time.

as he sheds his own clothes, he can practically feel the want radiating off you. he knew johnny’s lying, but he humored his friend still. there’s no way you can fake the noises you always make. plus, taeil has seen one too many times the cum dribbling out of your cunt after he’s fucked you into oblivion. he scoffs. harder? then he’ll be breaking you in half already.

taeil swats your hand away as it reaches for his cock and he hopes you don’t notice it twitching before you when you let out a cute whine.

“you want it?”

you nod urgently, salavitating at the thought. taeil was more of a giver to his partners, it’s rare for him to take his pleasure first but you’re far from complaining.

“oh, i don’t know…” he pouts, fisting himself in front of you before giving it a few testing pumps. he swallows the hiss threatening to spill from his lips, chuckling instead at the intense look in your eyes as it follows his hand movements.

you were by far the most compliant girl he’s ever had, someone who’d rather stay than escape. his methods of forcing someone into submission worked extremely well with you. so really, how can he let go of his glorified little pet?

“you’re not lying to me, aren’t you? i got hurt, you know, with what johnny said… i guess i was doing something wrong.”

“no!” your reply is immediate. “no, that’s not true—”

hands wrap around your throat like a vice. “how about you prove it to me, love? tell me everything i want to hear.”

now, this is easy. you’ve practically memorized everything you need to tell him to boost his ego. it doesn’t even take much of an effort.

“i love your cock so much that my body hurts. it hits all the right places inside of me and i will never even dream of wanting another man because they won’t be able to fuck me like you do.”

you feel giddy when he smiles that satisfied smile, your toes curling in anticipation as he leans in to give his obedient darling a kiss—

until he shoves your face down the water.

it doesn’t take much effort to wrestle your limbs down and insert himself into you, groaning at the feeling of your lush and moist walls sucking him in. you’re always so damn wet when he fucks you, oh how much he loves it. loves how tighter your cunt wraps around him as you squirm and fight him to get to the surface of the half-filled tub.

it was only after a few deep thrusts did he relent and pull you up, the few hair clips in your hair floating in the water around as you gasp greedy amounts of air. one look at taeil’s face pulled in ecstasy is enough for you to know it was well worth it.

maybe being rejected by his soulmate was a blessing in disguise. maybe the disobedience of every girl he took before you had been deliberately well-planned. or else he’d never would’ve met you.

taeil was right. all the soulmate and soulmark shit is utterly useless and stupid. because you are by no means his soulmate, but fuck he’ll never let you go.

not when your destiny is to lay there underneath him, taking whatever it is that he gave you like a good little whore.

#yandere nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #yandere taeil #yandere nct 127 #taeil imagines #taeil scenarios #taeil smut

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gohyuck · 4 years

Note

prompt 4, lee jeno, streetracer au

prompt: “Everyone told me I’m crazy picking up a boy that drives a Camry.”

extra: streetracer au

note: suggestive (mild mentions of sex), jeno + cars which might be emotionally overwhelming for y’all because PHEW is it overwhelming for me omfg, this one’s a little long for a drabble but overall it isn’t super long (it’s like... 1.4k?)... i lowkey wanna write a racer jeno fic but idk lmk if that’s something the people want lmfao

july 5th, 2020.

it’s the first race of his you’ve ever seen.

you’ve memorized the course, a consequence of hours spent staring at the map until it’s been imprinted beneath your eyelids. the route ends where it starts, and the rest of the roads will be closed off - you’re sure renjun, one of the officiants, has bribed the city’s construction sector to ensure this - so no bystanders are hurt, but you don’t particularly care about unlucky pedestrians or drivers that could be potential collateral damage. still, it’s on the outskirts of the city, so there wasn’t as much risk as there could’ve been to start with.

it sounds bad when you think of it, but you can’t bring yourself to be repentant of what you worry about and what you don’t. after all, your focus is exactly where it should be:

jeno lee.

your boyfriend hasn’t been shy in letting you know about his pastimes: he’d told you about his penchant for speeding through the city in his toyota camry after the fifth date, had murmured it into the skin of your bare shoulder as his fingers skimmed your bare waist. it was the first night you’d stayed over, waking up to the sunrise, coffee, and round two. his apartment was - is - tiny compared to yours, a studio apartment just big enough to live in versus your penthouse suite uptown. still, from that night on, his place feels more like home than yours ever will.

you hadn’t really talked about how worried you are for him then, instead allowing him to give and take to and from you as he pleased. you still haven’t talked about how worried you are for him, although instead of being in his bed at 2 am you’re on the sidelines of one of his street races, 2 way radio in one hand and phone open to a police scanner app in the other.

it’s insane, you think to yourself, that you’re an active participant in a highly illegal race. if any of your friends - who all believe jeno to be a terrible influence, in his tattooed glory and always shrouded in cigarette smoke - could see you now, they might have simultaneous aneurysms. they’re all far too enveloped in the socialite life you’re trying desperately to shed.

none of that matters to you now, though - what matters is the cars you can see emerging from a turn far, far off in the distance. there’s only two - a bright red civic and a sleek black camry, the latter carrying your boyfriend and his best friend jaemin - and they’re neck and neck, tire to tire. it’s a short race, a quick couple of loops around the track that’s been laid out for the night. there’s prize money, yes, but it’s only a couple hundred bucks - if jeno wins, he’ll put his half towards paying his rent.

you watch with bated breath as the cars get closer and closer, your eyes trained on their front bumpers. renjun makes his way to the center of the starting line, his faith in the two drivers astounding you as he waits patiently for them to near him. mark jogs across to set up a slow motion camera on the other side, and, on your right, jisung sets one up as well. renjun stands still, gaze piercing the night as he stares straight ahead. before anyone can process the end of the race, both cars race past. your hair flies up from the wind generated by the cars’ speeds, and you hear the distinct sounds of two sets of brakes squealing as both cars finally, finally come to a rest.

you hold your breath as mark and jisung analyze their films. donghyuck pushes open the drivers’ door of the civic, with chenle walking out of the passengers’ side. jaemin leaves the camry first, and jeno follows, running his hands through his hair as he gets out. you’re too focused on mark and jisung to notice your boyfriend until his cologne engulfs you, just moments before he pulls you into his side by your waist.

“how was your first race?” he whispers, lips right by your ear as he leans towards you. you relax against his hold as you mumble a ‘good’, and he presses his lips to your hairline as the two of you wait. yes, winning the race is, at most, rent money and a mild sense of pride, but jeno’s arms are tense around you.

he loves cars, and he loves racing them for enjoyment, yes, but you know that he’d rather be racing them to win and only to win. his dreams are lofty, but if he can win another streetrace, who’s to say he can’t keep winning his way up until he’s good enough for the big leagues? he’s beaten every racer in the city except for donghyuck, and whoever wins this race will hold the unofficial title of truly being the best of the best.

tonight has been jeno’s toughest race to date. he wants to live off the adrenaline just a little longer... that, and rent is due next week.

after eons, mark raises his head.

“i’ve got jeno,” he calls out, and jeno’s arms pull even tighter around you as he awaits the final verdict.

“so do i.” jisung responds, only just loudly enough to be heard by everyone. without meaning to, you let out a laugh of pure, unadulterated joy, and jeno spins you around to hug you properly. you hear donghyuck and chenle congratulate him, feel jeno get handed $100 by renjun while the other $100 goes to jaemin. you’re basking in your pride, face against jeno’s jacket.

it’s the first victory of his that you witness, but it certainly isn’t the last.

♕ ♕ ♕

september 12th, 2024.

“you know,” you start, words coming out in a satiated sigh as you shift to lay on your side. the silk sheets of the hotel suite’s bed tangle between your legs as you begin to trace random patterns on jeno’s skin.

“hm?” your fiancé prompts, smiling down gently at you as you lay your hand flat on his chest.

“way back when, everyone - all of my ‘friends’ - told me that i was crazy for picking up a boy who rode around in a camry and, quote unquote, looked like trouble. i wonder if they’re watching you now.” you glance up to meet his gaze, and the corner of his eyes crinkle as he lets out a quiet chuckle.

“don’t know if i ever stopped looking like trouble, to be honest, even if i don’t drive my camry anymore. haven’t changed much in these past four years.” jeno’s voice is husky at this time of night, just a little gravelly and soft enough to where you strain a little to listen. he never fails to make your heart do somersaults, even after five years of knowing him.

“you literally just won the italian grand prix, and you say you haven’t changed much?” your tone is still soft, though not without an edge of incredulity. jeno traces a finger down your naked side, moving so he’s pillowing his head with his forearm, all just to see you properly.

“i’m still the same guy, just with money and a better job. my morals are the same, fundamentals are the same - my love for you, what defines me, it’s still the same. just because i’ve got a couple of pro racing trophies under my belt -”

“- eight -” you interrupt, brow furrowed at jeno short-selling himself. he sees this, raising his hand to tease against your scalp.

“- under my belt,” he continues. “it doesn’t mean anything truly important has changed.”

“... i guess.” you finally acquiesce, and jeno fondly tugs you close so that you’re lying on top of him. the new position has something stirring in his chest, and he brings his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw before pulling you gently towards him.

“wanna know what i’m putting my prize money towards?” he asks, words sounding harder than they should. you squirm slightly, still just a little fucked out from earlier, but jeno’s always had a way of making you want more.

“what?” you ask, shifting so you’re straddling him. he lets you plant your hands on his chest before he responds, the beginning of a smirk evident against his plush lips.

“our honeymoon,” he whispers, leaning up so his lips are brushing yours. “wanna put all that cash towards a room with enough surfaces for me to bend you over to last us a whole week.”

jeno closes the space between the two of you with a bruising kiss, and you find that he’s right - nothing really has changed in the past four years. he still fits you perfectly, body made for your own.

some things never change at all.

#raya4k #anonymous #jeno #nct dream #nct #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno smut #jeno x reader #jeno scenario #jeno scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream smut #nct dream scenario #nct dream scenarios

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Breakable Heaven (pt. II) - p.l. dubois

Part I

Part two is here! Things start to heat up in this chapter, exciting stuff’s happening! I hope you guys like reading it as much as I’m loving writing - please slide into my inbox, let me know what you think! Reblogs are amazing too, it’s how we know people are liking what we’re putting out and helps to reach more people! (Plus it’s one of the joys of my life to read the tags. Seriously, so much fun.)

Part II (7.2k)

June 18 (fri)

“If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to sell it,” Laurel said, running a hand through her hair. “The fewer people who know the truth, the better.”

Pierre nodded. “Agreed.” He sat back in his chair. “What do you think your parents will say?”

Laurel laughed. “Uh, they think I’m seeing someone, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “it was easier to just say I had a boyfriend than deal with their endless pestering, you know?”

“So they’d buy it if you just told them you were getting married?”

She shrugged. “I think so. You know we’re not particularly close, they haven’t met any of my boyfriends since I was in high school. So if I told them I was engaged, I don’t think they’d bat an eye, if I’m honest.” Pierre could sense there was more to the story, more that she wasn’t telling him, but he didn’t want to press. “What about yours?” she asked.

“Well, we’ve got a couple options,” Pierre said, cracking a smile and leaning back into the cushions. “It was a drunken mistake.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Then they’d just tell us to get a divorce.”

“We fell in love after the first date.”

“Even less believable,” Laurel said, the corner of her lip twitching.

“Or…,” Pierre said, kicking his feet up on the ottoman, a wicked grin on his face, “I got you pregnant and want to do the right thing.”

Laurel snorted. “Little issue there.”

“What?”

“I’m not pregnant.”

Pierre ducked his head, blushing. “Right. There’s that.”

She nodded. “There’s that.” She tapped her fingers on the coffee table. “I’ve got it.” Pierre looked up. “We’ve been friends for a long time, couple years or something. Madeline went to York, so we met when you and Patrice came to visit. We realized we had feelings for each other a few months ago, everything moved super quickly since we already knew each other and had that foundation.”

“So we thought ‘why wait,’” Pierre finished.

“Exactly,” Laurel said. “Why wait, if we already knew.”

“It’s a classic friends-to-lovers story, a tale as old as time,” he sighed wistfully.

Laurel slapped his shoulder. “This is serious,” she said, but she was smiling all the same. “Okay, so we’ve at least got that worked out. Madeline and Patrice will obviously know, but other than that…” She trailed off.

He nodded, and an understanding passed between them. “It’s a need-to-know basis.”

“It is.” Laurel shifted her laptop on the coffee table, squeezing closer to Pierre so he could see the screen. “So, we have to go down to the courthouse for a meeting with the court clerk who will perform the ceremony, bring birth certificates and ID, and —”

He glanced over at Laurel, her tongue caught between her teeth. “And?”

“You have to publish a declaration of intent to marry twenty days before the wedding. Online. In public.”

Pierre looked oblivious. “So?”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “So, it has the date of the wedding and our full names and our whole entire addresses. And in case you’ve forgotten, you’re kind of a professional hockey player.”

He shrugged. “All due respect, Laurel, but,” he glanced at the website, “who actually checks these things?” He had a point there, she thought, but she wasn’t about to let him win.

“But your address, you’re not worried about that getting out there?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “But my building’s got a receptionist and I’ve got locks on my doors. And plus,” Pierre added, “I’ve really never had much of a problem flying under the radar here. When I go back home, back to the suburbs, sure. And a little bit in Columbus, obviously. But there’s what, two million people in Montréal? I’m not on the Habs, so even the hockey fans here really couldn’t care less.”

She laughed. “Fair enough. Also, uh, living situation. We should probably talk about that.”

“You’re moving in with me?” He said it like a question, but not as if it was something that would surprise him, or something he was opposed to. He said it like it was something he already knew the answer to. “I’ve got three rooms, plenty of space, Phil and Georgia would love to have a new sister. You and Piper would fit right in,” he said, reaching down to scratch her behind the ears. “Plus it’s got a great gym in the lobby, you can cancel your membership to that seedy place downtown with that trainer who always stares at you when you do weights.” Laurel’s ears perked up; she was surprised he remembered. She did have a gym downtown that she tried to make it to a few times a week, and there was that one creepy trainer, but she had only mentioned it to him once in passing. “Plus it has hot yoga once a week, and I know you’ve been dying to try.” That much was true.

“At least let me help pay for rent,” she tried to bargain.

“Nope!” he said, wincing a second later. “I didn’t mean it in like a patronizing way, I know you’re perfectly capable of pulling your own weight. I meant like I bought it outright, so there’s no rent to be paid. I’ll let you pay the electricity bill if you want?”

Laurel grinned. “That would make me feel better, thank you.” After looking at her computer for a minute, she spoke again. “How long have you had the apartment for?”

Pierre scratched his chin. “Couple years? I bought it after signing the contract this year. Some guys buy a Lamborghini, I bought an apartment. I don’t own the place in Columbus though.”

“How come?” Laurel asked, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

“Even with the contract, so much is up in the air. I could get traded in the middle of the season, or in the summer or whenever, and I don’t want to have just bought a house when I’ve got to move to Vancouver or wherever when the ink hasn’t even dried on the papers.”

This time, it was Laurel’s turn to leave with an unsaid question. “Is tomorrow good? To go down and get everything squared away at the courthouse?”

He bobbed his head. “Yeah, I’ve got some off-ice training in the morning, but any time after noon or so is good for me.”

Laurel nodded, making a few taps on her computer. “Okay, I’ve got us booked in at one, that good?”

“Yeah,” Pierre said, nodding in affirmation. “Now I’ve got to come up with an excuse to drive to my parents’ and get my birth certificate.”

---

It didn’t actually turn out to be all that difficult for Pierre; he made the drive back to Saint-Agathe-des-Monts later that afternoon, telling his parents he needed it to renew his health insurance card. He wasn’t sure they actually believed him, but his mom didn’t bat an eye before handing it over. Pierre spent the rest of the evening at home, cooking pasta, petting the dogs, and wondering what in the hell he had agreed to. He wasn’t second-guessing himself, not by a long-shot, but when she clicked that button to book their appointment, the gravity of the situation finally started to hit him. In less than a month, he was going to be getting married.

June 19 (sat)

Laurel met Pierre on the steps of the Montréal courthouse at a quarter to one the next day, clutching the straps of her tote like a lifeline. “Woah, Laurel, you’re holding that like you’ve got a bomb in there,” Pierre said.

She flashed him a nervous smile. “No bomb, just very official very legal documents. Don’t want to lose it.”

He held out his hand. “You ready?”

Laurel was surprised at the gesture. Not shocked that he was being kind, but that he was cognizant enough to recognize that she was nervous, and wanted to do something about it. She took his hand. “Ready.”

It only took a minute to find the office, and a few more before the receptionist called them back to the clerk’s office. She introduced herself as Juliette Bergeron, congratulated them on their engagement, and asked to see the paperwork. Passports and birth certificates were handed over, signatures were signed on dotted lines, and half an hour later, they walked out of the courthouse with an appointment for a wedding on July 10.

“Well, there’s that crossed off the checklist,” Laurel said, leaning up against the handrails as they stood on the courthouse steps. They had actually made a real checklist, a series of tasks on a shared Notes page of everything that needed to be completed before the wedding. Book the ceremony and post the public notice were done, but there were still a dozen-odd tasks left before they actually could get married. Starting with telling their parents. While they had developed as airtight a cover story as she supposed one could when they were committing what would charitably be referred to as citizenship fraud, they had agreed it was going to be far less messy to “come clean” as fiancés than after the wedding. Laurel had wanted to text them the news, or call so early they’d still be asleep and she could just avoid the conversation altogether, but Pierre had convinced her to FaceTime. “I know you guys aren’t super close, but I think they deserve that much, Laurel,” he had said, and he was right. Deep down, she knew he was right.

“Ready?” Pierre asked, rubbing her back soothingly.

Laurel flashed him a tight smile before pressing her mom’s contact. “As I’ll ever be.” Three agonizingly long rings later, her mom picked up.

“Laurel? What are you doing calling, honey? Is everything okay?”

She let out a nervous giggle. “Does something have to be wrong for me to call my parents?”

“No,” Cheryl clucked, “but to be fair, you don’t call often.”

Laurel rubbed the back of her neck in discomfort. “That’s true. Uh, anyways, is dad there?”

“He’s in the kitchen,” her mom said, starting to catch onto the fact that maybe this wasn’t quite your run-of-the-mill check-in call. “What’s this all about, pumpkin?”

The old term of endearment, one she hadn’t heard in years, brought tears to the corners of her eyes. “Can you call him in? I’d rather tell you both at the same time.”

Cheryl nodded, worry crossing her brow. “Doug? Laurel’s on the phone, she’s got something to tell us. Sounds important.”

“Coming,” Laurel heard her dad say in the background. A moment later, he padded into view. “Hey, Laurel, Mom said you’ve got some news?”

Laurel nodded. “Yeah, just something I thought you guys should know. It’s not bad, you’re just going to be surprised, so I need you to keep an open mind, okay?”

“Who is he?” Doug asked, rubbing his forehead with an exasperated expression.

She blanched. “He? Who’s he?” There’s no way he guessed...right?

“The jackass who got you pregnant, who else?”

Laurel almost choked on her own spit. “Pregnant? Who said I’m pregnant? I’m not pregnant!”

Both of her parents let out an audible sigh of relief. “Well, Laurel, what conclusion did you expect us to jump to when you called us out of the blue and said you had important news?”

Laurel bit her lip; they had a point. “Fair. But, uh, rest assured, I’m not pregnant. I’m smarter than that.” She paused, steeling her nerves. “Remember that guy I told you I was seeing a few months ago?”

Her mom squinted like she was looking into the sun. “Vaguely? You didn’t really tell us much about him. Just that he was tall, nice, you met through friends.” It was a believable enough explanation back then, and Laurel was beyond grateful it dovetailed perfectly into the story she and Pierre had conjured up. “You didn’t even tell us his name.”

Laurel reached out her free hand, the one that wasn’t holding the phone, and made a grabby motion for his hand. He interlaced his fingers with hers. “Well, his name’s Pierre-Luc Dubois—”

Doug interrupted. “Very French.”

She grimaced. “I do live in Québec, Dad. But anyways, his name’s Pierre-Luc Dubois and we’re getting married.”

They sat still on the other end of the call, so still that if it weren’t for her mom’s rapid blinking she would have thought the call had been dropped. “Married?” her mom asked softly.

“Yes, married.”

“How long have you even been seeing each other?” Doug asked, dumbfounded.

“A little under six months. I know it’s not long, and I know it seems sudden, but we’ve known each other for a long time, you know? We met when I was still back in Toronto at university, Madeline introduced us.” Her parents nodded; Madeline, they knew. Madeline, they had met. Madeline, they trusted. “And we finally realized a little bit after New Year’s that we had feelings for each other, and it’s sort of been zero to a hundred ever since. We thought, if we knew we loved each other and we knew we were done looking, then what was the point of waiting for a year or two for it to be a ‘socially acceptable’ time to get married.” Laurel finished.

Cheryl wrapped her hands around her mug of tea, eyelids still shooting rapid-fire blinks at the screen. “But, Laurel, we haven’t even met this boy, we barely know anything about him!”

Pierre squeezed her hand. “Actually, he’s just off-camera. Want to say hi, P?”

He walked into view, waving politely at the screen. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Klerken, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Laurel’s had nothing but wonderful things to say.” A little flattery never hurt anybody, he thought.

“Lovely to meet you, Pierre-Luc,” Cheryl said. “Forgive us if we’re still a little shocked, Laurel’s not normally one to spring things on us like this.”

He laughed. “Perfectly fair. I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to meet until now, but we’ve been trying to get used to the idea ourselves.”

Her dad leaned forward from his spot in the couch, giving Pierre as much of a once-over as he could from nearly 1500 miles away. “I’m not able to give you the normal talking-to I have with any of the other boys Laurel or Maggie have introduced us to, so this is going to have to do.” Maggie? Laurel had primed Pierre for the inevitable grilling, telling him that if it was anything like it had been in the past, it would be all bark and no bite. “So what do you do for work, Pierre-Luc?”

“I’m a professional hockey player in the NHL, I play for the Columbus Blue Jackets.”

Doug’s eyebrows went up. As much of a front as he tried to put up, he was still a middle-aged man from Minnesota, and there were few things that impressed middle-aged men from Minnesota more than their daughters being suddenly engaged to NHL players. “NHL, huh? That’s very impressive. So you’re from Québec, then?”

“Yes, sir,” Pierre answered. “My hometown’s a little outside of the city, but I live in Montréal now. My mom’s from Georgia, though, so I’ve got dual citizenship and some family still down there.”

Her parents didn’t take too kindly to the news that the wedding was in three weeks, since it was too tight a fit to be able to get time off, but promised to visit later in the summer to make a proper introduction to their new son-in-law. Her father continued to pepper him with questions about his hobbies, family, and how he takes his steak — according to the Doug Klerken rules, any man who orders anything above medium is not to be trusted — until Laurel mercifully cut him off, telling her parents they were late to meet up with some friends. “That wasn’t so bad,” Pierre said as Laurel slipped her phone into her purse, immediately plugging it into her portable charger as the FaceTime had drained all but 18% of her battery.

Laurel made a face. “They’re good people and they care about me, but…” She trailed off. “They never really understood why I’d want anything more than I was given. Anything more than the status quo. And it’s just caused a lot of friction between us.” Her eyes flashed as she remembered something. “One more thing.” Pierre’s ears perked up. “If and when you ever talk to my parents again, just...don’t bring up politics.” Laurel grimaced.

“Republicans?” he asked sympathetically.

She nodded. “Trump-supporting Republicans. It’s another one of the reasons we don’t talk much anymore. I’m liberal, I’d probably be NDP if I could vote here, and we just don’t share the same values on a lot of things.”

“That’s got to be pretty rough on you,” Pierre said.

“Yeah,” Laurel admitted. “Probably more than I want to let on, but I think it helps that I’m able to get some distance.”

Pierre took a deep breath in. “Your, uh, your dad mentioned something that I wanted to ask you about.”

Shit. Laurel had been able to avoid the conversation for long enough, but she was beginning to push her luck, and she couldn’t run forever. “Maggie?”

He nodded. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but I thought I should ask.”

“Yeah, no, I get it,” Laurel said. “Um, long story short, Maggie’s my sister. It’s July, so…” she did the mental math in her head, “she’d be almost 31. Total free spirit. She left town pretty soon after she graduated, came back every so often but not nearly enough. Last I heard, she was an au pair in Italy.”

“And when was that?”

“Two years ago.” Pierre figured that was as good a time as any to drop the subject, so he did. They had decided that, while they were still downtown, it would be a good opportunity to get the ring shopping out of the way. Pierre looked up the highest-rated jewelry store on Yelp, and they set off on foot.

Pierre opened the door for her as they stepped inside, greeted by a slightly over-enthusiastic salesman. “You paid for the ceremony fee, so I’m paying for the rings, okay?”

Laurel scoffed. “Hardly a fair trade, don’t you think?”

“I’ll live,” he said, smirking.

Laurel had been wandering around by the solitaires for a few minutes when Pierre walked up behind her. “I know this isn’t going to be the wedding you’ve always dreamed of,” Pierre said, “but we’re going to make it the best we can.” He looked down at the cases, Laurel’s fingers dancing over the edge of the glass cover. “When you were in high school, or university, did you ever think about what kind of wedding you wanted?” Laurel gave a small nod. “And what kind of ring did you have?”

“I’ve always liked halo cuts,” she said softly.

Pierre inched his hand towards hers, wrapping his fingers around hers. They tensed for a second, but then relaxed into his grip. “Then let’s go get you that halo cut.”

There was no one else in the store aside from the salesman, so the couple was enveloped in a comfortable silence as they browsed. Her eyes stopped on a beautiful floral halo ring with an oval diamond. Pierre nodded to the salesman, who carefully took it off of its stand and handed it to Pierre, who carefully wiggled it onto Laurel’s fourth finger. If she closed her eyes, she was almost able to pretend that it was a proposal. Laurel brought her thumb to the ring, delicately running it over the pavé band with the ghost of a smile on her face. “What do you think?” Pierre asked, as if he couldn’t already tell her answer from the look on her face.

Laurel looked up at him. “I love it. It fits perfectly.”

“Like Cinderella’s slipper.” He turned to the salesman. “Combien ça coûte?” (How much does it cost?) Laurel heard a number that made her swallow hard, more than anything she’d ever have bought for herself, but Pierre insisted it was a non-issue as he handed his card over. “He said that they’ve got another sample one in the back, and you’re welcome to just wear that one out if it fits.”

“Sounds good.” The salesman handed over the bag with Pierre’s ring and her matching wedding band, thanking them for their purchase before opening the door back into the sunny Montréal afternoon. Laurel craned her neck to try and sneak a peek inside the bag. “Don’t I get to see yours?”

Pierre cracked a wry grin. “Gotta wait until the wedding, babe. Can’t a man have a little mystery?”

“Fair enough,” Laurel said, not missing his use of the pet name but brushing it off as simply a spur-of-the-moment choice. “Do you want to do the honors?” she asked, referring to the all-important checklist.

Pierre opened his phone with his spare hand, deftly navigating to the app and tapping twice. “Four down, seven to go. We’re on a roll.

June 24 (thurs)

Surprisingly, telling Pierre-Luc’s parents hadn’t been nearly as intimidating as breaking the news to her own, at least for Laurel. They were shocked — and confused, and had a lot of questions — but were welcoming nonetheless. Patrice was almost like a second son to them, and the fact that she already came with his stamp of approval went a long way into calming them down. “He’s always been quite the romantic, the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. And he cares deeply about the people in his life. That’s you, now,” his mom had said. They drove up to meet them that Sunday, having brunch in his childhood home. That was, in essence, their first real “test” as a couple. They had never had to sell their relationship to anyone before; even when going out with Madeline and Patrice after their “engagement,” nothing ever seemed like it had changed. This time was different. This time had to be different.

His mom fawned over her engagement ring, asking her to spare no details in retelling the story of the proposal. Lucky for her, however, Laurel was the former president of the University of Toronto improv club, and coming up with background stories with exactly zero minutes to prepare was something of a specialty for her. Laurel immediately gushed about how unexpected it was; she was just expecting an evening walk through downtown until they turned down one of the piers by the basilica, reached the end overlooking the river, and Pierre dropped down on one knee. “I think I knew that he was the one way sooner than that, but it’s nice to finally have it be official,” she had said.

Laurel shook herself out of her memories, turning the door into the locker room. She grabbed a pair of scrubs out of her shared locker — she had never met Alice, the other nurse who used it, but they had made a habit of leaving each other Post-it note greetings — and stripped off her t-shirt and jeans. Shimmying on her scrub pants, she tied them, leaning back into the locker to get her bag as the door shut behind her. She glanced over to the door, waving to Claire. Claire was sweet, a transplant from Vancouver who had lived in Québec as a child and decided to come back to work. She was sweet, having just started working at the beginning of the summer, but she was young, even younger than Laurel. And while her perky and energetic nature lent itself well to the dynamics of the floor, it was a lot for her to get used to. “Hey!” Laurel said, waving as she pulled a chain out of her purse, trying to discreetly unhook it.

“Hey!” Claire responded, perky as ever. “How has your week been?” She worked Mondays and Thursdays with Laurel, but had the Saturday night shift as well.

Laurel threw her hair up into a bun. “Good, good, busy. Met up with some friends yesterday, so that was nice, but not much. Took Piper to the dog park.” With my fiancé, she neglected to add. She twisted her ring off, trying to slip it onto the chain without Claire noticing. Like most of her married colleagues, Laurel had taken to wearing her engagement ring on a chain around her neck while at work instead of on her finger. It was under her scrubs most of the time, keeping at bay the questions she wasn’t yet ready to answer, and made it much easier to pull on and off gloves when the occasion called for it. But Claire was eagle-eyed, catching the sparkle of the diamond just as she slid it onto the chain.

She audibly gasped. “Is that an engagement ring?”

Laurel had to think fast; once again, her improv skills were called up to bat. “No? It’s, uh, it’s a family heirloom, it was my grandma’s. Guess I didn’t think too much about which finger I put it on.” She could tell Claire didn’t quite believe her side of the story, but thankfully, she didn’t press.

“If you say so,” she said, giving a not-so-subtle wink.

June 27 (sun)

Laurel was sat in her living room, her TV on in the background as she scrolled absent-mindedly through her phone, savoring her last few hours before she had to go to bed for her 5:30 wake-up call. On a whim, she opened her Twitter. It wasn’t an app she used all that often — mostly just to keep in contact with the handful of high school and college friends who didn’t use Instagram — and she was well aware that she’d probably have to limit her use for her own sanity when she and Pierre went “public” after the wedding, but she liked being able to keep up with everyone. She followed her friends, a handful of celebrities and a few journalists, but her timeline wasn’t flooded with updates. Then she saw the little blue alert on the bottom. One new message. Clicking to her inbox, Laurel saw that it had been sent by Madeline four minutes earlier, a link to a tweet that just had the caption: “you should probably see this.”

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Laurel pressed the link. What could be so important that Madeline would have sent a message with that kind of urgency? And why didn’t she just text it? God, I hate puckbunny blogs, Laurel thought as she read the handle. Her eyes raced across the screen. So I was looking up the address of my friend’s wedding earlier since I lost my invitation and didn’t want to tell her, and saw this under??? I know he can be a private guy, but tell me you guys don’t think this is for PLD. Her eyes froze as soon as she finished reading, praying that somehow they were talking about a different PLD, that they hadn’t been found out and their cover hadn’t been blown and she wasn’t about to have a panic attack for the first time since junior year — and then she saw the screenshot. Of their wedding announcement. Their public wedding announcement that not only had their full names and places of birth, but the location of the ceremony, the time, and their addresses. God, this is exactly what Laurel had been worried about. She immediately reported the tweet for exposing personal information, then made the poor decision to look at the comments section. Some people insisted it was legitimate, some convinced it was just photoshop, some were convinced that it couldn’t be Pierre-Luc even it looked like him, because he was training in Columbus for the summer, right? Thank God, it didn’t seem like anyone had done a deep enough dive to figure out who she was; there weren’t any screenshots of her accounts or photos of her in the comments section. It was eight minutes from the time she reported it to when it was taken down, and while Laurel was grateful for the quick response, she felt like she was on a cliffside, one foot off of the edge, until it had been deleted.

Her phone lit up with a text notification from Pierre. Funny thing happened today.

Oh God, Laurel thought. Had he seen it? He hadn’t.

My mom asked what you were planning to do about flowers and got very upset when I said we didn’t have any plans. She let out a tense breath. Flowers, she could do. She wanted to get your number to send over the names of a few florists she knows in the area, but I thought I should check with you first to make sure that’s okay.

Laurel smiled, her right hand draped over the side of the couch to scratch Piper behind the ears. That sounds great, P.

As promised, his mom texted Laurel soon after, coming armed with recommendations of Montréal florists. She echoed her son’s words almost identically; You deserve to have the wedding you’ve always dreamed of even if the circumstances are different, she had written. Her eyes pricked with tears as she fell asleep.

July 3 (sun)

It was a week before the wedding, and Laurel had started to pack up her apartment. It seemed much more practical to do it in stages then try to finish everything the weekend of the wedding. So she sat with Pierre on the floor of her bedroom, moving boxes between them as they packed away into the next season of her life. Some things, she obviously couldn’t put away yet — she still needed clothes and toothpaste, and they hadn’t been able to get all of her pots and pans down to the Goodwill yet. But books and keepsakes could be boxed up, and unless there was a snowstorm in July, she didn’t need her parka either.

“Oh, what’s this?” Pierre asked as he pulled a few more volumes off of her bookshelf. Laurel groaned when she saw what was in his hand.

“The 2013 Cloquet Senior High School yearbook. My sophomore year.”

He burst out laughing. “This, I’ve got to see.” He opened the cover. “Your mascot was the Lumberjacks?”

Laurel ducked her head, her cheeks heating. “Regrettably, yes. That’s what happens when your whole area used to be milling towns.”

Pierre’s brows furrowed. “I thought you said everything was about the mines, doesn’t your dad work in the mines?”

“He does,” Laurel said. “They had to figure out something to do after all of the trees had been cut down, you know?”

Pierre got the feeling it was really more of a rhetorical question. “What was your school like?”

She placed one of her old Harry Potter books into the box. “Small is the first word that comes to mind. My graduating class couldn’t have been much bigger than 150 or so? We’d get snow days a couple of times a year, most of the time if it wasn’t a blizzard everyone would end up going down to the school anyways, we’d all have big snowball fights on the football field. Actually,” she said, pulling out her phone from her back pocket, “I think I might still have a clip of one.” She pulled up her videos, scooting over to Pierre and leaning into his side so he could see the screen. Raucous laughter filtered through the speakers; the only things in sight were snow forts and the tiniest bits of beanies peeking over the top.

“THIS. IS. WAR!”

Laurel snickered. “I think that sounds like Nicholas, he was the varsity quarterback for a few years. Usually was the one leading the sieges.” She put her phone away a minute later after the clip ended. “But other than that? There were actually a lot of pretty interesting elective classes, I got to take photography, work in the preschool on campus, take a class on Anishinaabe studies.”

“Anishinaabe?” Pierre questioned.

“There’s a Native American reservation in town, the tribe’s Ojibwe so that’s the language family we studied. A lot of kids at the school, including one of my best friends Kristen, live on the reservation, so I think they wanted to not only have the class available for Native students who maybe wanted to learn more about their culture, but also for non-Native kids like me, so we’re able to gain a respect for whose land we’re living on,” Laurel explained.

“Makes sense,” he said, flipping through the pages. He snorted. “This photo might be the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Laurel peeked over his shoulder, cringing at her school picture. “I really couldn’t have dressed any more 2012 if I tried, Pierre. Aggressively off-the-shoulder top, one of those godforsaken hair feathers, I bet you’d find dark wash skinny jeans if you could see from the waist down.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my fiancée like that,” Pierre said. “I like the look, I swear. You were such a cute kid, oh my God.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know. What happened to me, right?”

He looked at her from the side. “Nope.”

June 9 (fri)

It was the day before the wedding, and Laurel was trying to find a dress. She had been planning on wearing one — even if it was a courthouse wedding, she still wanted to look nice — but then she had spilled red wine onto the light blue one she had been thinking of wearing as she ironed it in the living room, and she didn’t want to put all of her eggs in one basket if the Oxiclean didn’t end up working. She called Madeline in a panic, who promised to be over as soon as she could with a few dresses of her own to see what she could do. There was a knock on the door, and Laurel practically flew across the room to fling it open, gathering Madeline in a hug even before she had crossed the threshold. Madeline patted her clumsily on the back. “There, there, Laur. It’s going to be okay, we’re going to fix it.”

Laurel ran one hand through her hair, her curls as frazzled as her mind. “It’s got to be. Half of my stuff’s already over at P’s place, what, do you want me to wear a,” she opened up her dresser, eyeing its meager contents, “bralette and lacy thong to my own wedding?”

Madeline shrugged. “I doubt Pierre would mind,” she said casually.

Laurel almost choked on her own spit. “What do you mean?”

“Men are visual creatures, and you’re hot as hell, Laurel,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Still,” Laurel said, opening her closet and grabbing every single left over dress from its hanger, trying to distract herself from Madeline’s words, “I’d rather not be arrested for public indecency. I’m trying to stay in the country, remember?”

Madeline rolled her eyes. “I remember.” She thumbed through the dresses on Laurel’s bed. “You’re not wearing a black dress to get married,” she said pointedly.

“It’s pretty?” Laurel tried to reason.

“It is, but it’s a wedding, not a funeral.” She moved onto the next one. “Bright red bodycon is great for the club, but not sure coquettish seductress is the look you’re going for.” The next one was a striped sweater dress; it was the middle of summer, so according to Madeline, that meant it was out. There was a navy shift dress that “could work, but it’s a little too much work and not enough play,” her friend had said. Laurel tried on Madeline’s dresses, but seeing as how she had three inches on her, the hemlines weren’t exactly in her favor. Madeline pulled out the last of the stack, gasping softly. “This one’s beautiful, where’s it from?”

Madeline looked at it, a knee-length ivory lace dress, rolling her eyes good-naturedly at Madeline. “It was for Aurélie’s bachelorette party last year, probably explains. You were drunk off your ass that night.”

“I’m hurt by that characterization, but I don’t remember enough to correct you,” Madeline said. “It’s perfect though, why didn’t you choose this one in the first place?”

Laurel rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m not sure?” Madeline gave her a look. “Fine, it just seems...It seems too much like an actual wedding dress. It’s white, or close enough, anyways,” she noted, fingering one of the delicate straps, “and gorgeous, and formal, and I’m worried if I wear it it’ll seem too real, and I’ll start thinking this is more than it is. Because all it is at the end of the day is a friend doing me a really, really big favor,” she finished, huffing and falling back onto her mattress.

“At the end of the day, it’s still a wedding,” Madeline corrected, laying down next to her. “And you’re still a bride and he’s still a groom and you deserve to feel beautiful and cherished and special on your wedding day, no matter its circumstances. And who knows? Maybe you two stay married, and fall in love, and you live happily ever after with your half-dozen dogs and 2.5 kids on some farm out in the suburbs.”

Laurel snorted. “As if.” But two hours later, long after Madeline had already left, she sat back on the bed, hand ghosting over the lace of her now-wedding dress, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Madeline had a point.

June 10 (sat)

It was the morning of the wedding, and Laurel was pacing her room in her sweatpants, Piper looking at her in confusion from the doorway. It was just past 7 and the appointment wasn’t until 10, but she still had to get dressed and do her hair and makeup and pick up the flowers and eat and — her internal monologue was interrupted by the doorbell. Still half-asleep, she ambled over to the door, pulling it open without even really checking to see who it was.

“Surprise!!” Patrice shouted, walking through the door, followed by Madeline and Pierre. “Madeline mentioned that you seemed a bit overwhelmed yesterday, so we thought we’d come over and get ready over here!”

Laurel shuffled out of the way as Piper jumped on Pierre, who laughed and calmed her down with a few scratches on her chin. She had really taken a liking to him and his two dogs, which had initially been a point of nervousness for Laurel. But they got along great, shared space well, and she seemed to love her new brother and sister. “That’s really nice of you guys, I appreciate it,” she said sincerely. “Um, I don’t have much food left because of the move, but I think there’s some cereal in the cupboard?”

“Silly you,” Pierre said, holding out a paper bag. “Did you think I’d leave my bride hungry on our wedding day? I got you sourdough french toast, should be on the top.” They had gone out to brunch once and she had ordered it, audibly moaning at how incredible it tasted. He remembered.

“And raspberry mochas!” Madeline said, presenting her with a cup.

Laurel took it, wrapping her spare arm around Madeline and kissing Pierre on the cheek. “This is incredible, guys. Really. I didn’t expect anything like this.”

“Exactly!” Madeline said, a perky expression on her face. “It’s a surprise!” She drifted into the kitchen, pulling out plates from Laurel’s cabinet and forks from her drawers. “Breakfast is served!”

Laurel let out a laugh as she grabbed the box with her french toast, taking a sip of her mocha. “I think the credit goes to the chefs at the restaurant, but whatever you say, Madi.”

Madeline rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but we ordered it.

By the time they had all inhaled their breakfasts and cleaned the kitchen — Laurel and Pierre tag-teamed the dishes — it was almost eight, and Madeline whisked her into her room to get ready. “There should be a couple beers in the fridge, help yourselves!” Laurel shouted out the door as Madeline tried to wrestle her into the ensuite. For the most part, Madeline was good at listening to Laurel’s pleas against a dramatic makeup look. Muted rose lipstick, filled in her eyebrows, delicately pulled back her hair into a twisted bun. “Where’s your setting spray?” Madeline asked, rooting through her makeup bag.

“Top drawer on the left. Are you finally going to let me see?”

Madeline pulled the drawer out, uncapping the bottle and spritzing it over Laurel’s face. “Go for it.”

Laurel turned around, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. “Oh my God,” she said, turning her head so the glimmer of her highlighter caught in the early-morning sun streaming through the open window. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Don’t say that until you’ve put the dress on,” Madeline said, pulling it off of its hanger and draping it across the chair. Sweats came off and the dress went on, Madeline carefully pulling up the back zipper and straightening out her hem. Laurel bent down to put on her shoes, threading the silver straps through the tiny metal clasp before giving her leg a good shake. Madeline looked at her sceptically.

“What?” Laurel asked innocently. “I don’t want it to fall off halfway down the aisle.”

There was a knock on the bedroom door, Patrice’s voice floating in from the other side. “It’s 9:20, you two about ready to head out?”

“Coming!” Madeline called back, pulling Laurel up from the bed. “You ready, Laur?” Laurel gave a nervous nod. “Let’s go get you married.”

She stepped out into the living room, reaching up to her neck and fingering the silver filigree of her grandma’s wedding necklace, one of the only things she had left to remember her by. If she wasn’t able to complete the whole rhyme, at least she’d have her something old. “Who’s driving?” she asked.

Pierre wheeled around, mouth gaping like a fish when he saw her. Laurel immediately looked down to her dress, wondering if she had spilled one of her pre-wedding mimosas. “What is it?” she asked frantically. “Is there something in my teeth?”

He shook his head, tugging at the sleeves of his navy blue suit. “No, there’s nothing in your teeth, it’s perfect. You look beautiful.” They were in the car five minutes later, picked up the bouquet from the florist five minutes after that, and were outside of the courthouse by 9:50. Laurel took a deep breath, looking up at the glass doors of the Palais de Justice. Pierre threaded his fingers between hers, giving a reassuring squeeze. “You good?”

Laurel nodded, nervous but determined, sure that she was making the right decision. “Ready.” She barely remembered signing in, barely remembered going back to the clerk’s office, barely remembered her reading the mandated articles of the civil code. She gripped Pierre’s hands, giving him as much of a reassuring smile as she could, as the vows were read.

“Pierre-Luc Dubois, do you take Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, here present, to be your wife?” Juliette asked.

“I do.”

“Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, do you take Pierre-Luc Dubois, here present, to be your husband?”

“I do,” Laurel said, voice steady.

Juliette continued. “By virtue of the powers vested in me by law, I now declare you, Pierre-Luc Dubois, and you, Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, united in the bonds of marriage.” Patrice passed over the rings; Laurel slid Pierre’s onto his ring finger, he gently twisted hers to rest on top of her engagement ring. “You are now legally married. Allow me, on my own behalf and on behalf of all those present, to offer you our best wishes for your happiness. You may now kiss the bride.”

Laurel panicked for a moment, before looking up and meeting Pierre’s eyes. In the span of a second, she communicated her unspoken agreement with the tiniest nod of her head, and his lips were on hers. His arms were against the small of her back, hers wrapped around his neck, and even enough it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, it felt like hours. It felt like coming home.

#pierre-luc dubois #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey smut #nhl writing #pierre-luc dubois imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl smut #nhl #hockey #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic

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et-lesailes · 5 years

Text

high maintenance

pairing: frank adler x pregnant!reader

themes: fluff with grumpy but loving old man frank adler

word count: 1600

summary: just a little fluff between you and your grumpy but loving old man fiance frank adler

taglist: @viarogers, @evanstush, @chibi-crazy, @chalamet-evans, @world-of-losers,@songforhema @sebabestianstan101 @tanyam93 @b-val1 @wonderwinchester @little-miss-exo

note: i have like 532 requests to work on but had a sudden burst of muse for this, now excuse me while i watch gifted agaiN

** please send an ask if you would like to be added to my taglist of any chris evans related fics!

“Mary! Mary, the clothes are here, let’s open the box together!”

Your fiancé’s niece, practically daughter, immediately came rushing over to the front door, eyes wide with excitement. “Is Frank up in the nursery? Let’s look at everything up there, so he can see, too.” You told her with a smile, ruffling her pretty blonde hair as you picked up the package from the front steps. “Are you sure? You know he’s just going to complain about you spending too much money again.” The seven-year-old pointed out, and you laughed as you playfully made a face, nodding. “I know, but he’s going to have to get used to it, isn’t he? Babies aren’t cheap!”

Walking up the stairs of the new home the two of you had recently bought together, you turned into the first room on the left, right across from you and Frank’s room. The man was sitting on the floor, dutifully putting together your son’s crib, different parts scattered around him. “Are you sure you’re doing it right?” you nagged as you approached him, but the soft giggle afterwards told him you were only kidding; the man repaired boats as a living, so you were pretty certain he could manage a baby crib. “No. I have no idea if I’m doing it right, I’ve never even seen a toolbox in my life.” The native Bostonian drawled sarcastically, eyes still focused on the assembly before him. You laughed more, completely unfazed by his blunt attitude; it was one of the many reasons you had fallen for him to begin with, and considering you had never been the type to get offended easily, your relationship worked well. Frank had a habit of coming off as much ruder than he meant to be, but he was also incredibly straightforward and slightly gruff to begin with. He had a soft spot for you and Mary, and now, your son that was to be born in around three months.

“Alright, let’s open up this thing,” you said with a grin to Mary, plopping down on the floor a little further away from the busy man. Reaching over to grab a pair of scissors he had used to cut the crib’s packaging, you slid the sharp edge through the tape sealing the cardboard box, opening the flaps and already squealing in delight as you peered inside. “Oh my God. This is all so cute already.” Mary reached inside first, pulling out a tiny blue Ralph Lauren polo, a look of awe upon her features. “It’s so small! He’ll look so adorable in it!” she spoke proudly about the boy who would basically be her baby brother, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement. “And look!” you exclaimed, taking out a pair of small boat shoes, giggling lightly. “His style is going to be impeccable, Mary, I’m tellin’ ya.”

The two of you were squealing over a onesie decorated with tiny cartoon raccoon prints when Frank finally decided he was curious enough to know what was going on, pausing in his work and turning around with arched eyebrow. “The hell is all this?” he scoffed in amusement, eyes flickering over the small pile of clothes on the floor. “Babe, did you order the entire store?”

“How could I not, Frank? Look at this!” You pulled out yet another article of clothing, smiling widely. “Tell me this isn’t the cutest shortall you’ve ever seen!”

“I guess it is, because I have no idea what a “shortall” even is.” The male retorted with another scoff, but you could see that hint of fondness in his eyes as he gazed upon his son’s apparel, making you giggle as you moved closer to him to wrap your arms around him from the side in a koala bear fashion hug. “Oh, honey.” He clucked his tongue before you could even speak, looking down at you knowingly. “I know what this hug is. It’s the “I’m-going-to-shower-you-with-abnormal-amounts-of-affection” hug that comes along with telling me how much you maxed out my credit card.”

“Frank! I’ve never maxed out your credit card, don’t exaggerate.” You huffed with a roll of your eyes, but smiled at him cutely afterwards. “I spent ... about…. $250? That’s really not that bad, you have to admit.”

“Yeah, Evelyn spends way more on me!” Mary pointed out in an attempt to help defend you, referring to Frank’s ridiculously wealthy mother. The man sighed, standing up though playfully scooping you up with him, eliciting a happy giggle from your lips as he shook his head. “Evelyn is not a valid person to be compared to in this situation, and at least she’s spending her money on a child who has actually been born already.” Suddenly looking at Mary with his naturally stern expression, he ordered, “Out of the room. Go play outside or go over to Roberta’s or something, I need to talk to this little brat for a sec.”

You blinked, watching as Mary turned and left before looking to him innocently. “Am I in trouble, Daddy?” you questioned in the silkiest voice you could muster, and a low scoff escaped his lips as he swatted at your ass, replying, “You’re going to be if you keep talking like that, baby girl.” He carried you over to the changing table, sitting you down and standing in between your legs. “Frank, if this is about my spending, I promise I’ll ease up I just--” you started to say, but he cut you off, pressing his lips against yours as he lovingly rubbed your baby bump. “I just wanted some alone time with my sexy girl,” he admitted in a husky voice against your lips, moving his mouth down to pepper your neck in kisses. “Honestly? I love seeing you already wanting to spoil our little man, princess. It’s cute when you’re such a fucking spoiled brat.” He smirked as he briefly glanced up at you, pulling at your skin with his teeth.

You whimpered softly but gave him a playfully hopeful expression. “Does that mean--”

“No, you still aren’t allowed to max out my credit card.” He scoffed, and you made a face as you corrected, “Our credit card, thank you very much, we’re in this together now.” He blinked and chuckled, returning his lips to yours to peck them sweetly. “You’re right, sweetheart. And now, Daddy’s going to be bringing a little more money home to help further spoil our two beautiful children ...”

You blinked, taking his face in your hands to make him properly look at you. “What do you mean by that?” you questioned, suspicious and curious at the same time. “Are you a stripper now or something?”

“What-- no, babe, God no.” He rolled his eyes but kissed your cheek, moving his head to mutter in your ear, “I’ve been working on something for a while now… I didn’t want to tell you anything until I was positive it would work out, and now, I am.” Taking out his phone from his pocket, he pulled up a photo and showed you, barely biting his lip. You had to squint because of his old school flip phone-- typical Frank Adler, completely uninterested in new and modern technology-- but once you realized what the image was, your eyes widened.

“Is this… is this yours, Frank?”

“Sure is, doll. And it’s going to officially be open for business next month.”

You squealed in delight as you wrapped your arms around him, feeling pure happiness and excitement for his hard work and endeavors. “Your own repair shop, Frank? You’ve been wanting this forever! How did you…”

“A friend from the bar was renting out a space he owned, he offered it to me discounted because it was a little shabby and no one was interested. I’ve been fixing it up for the past few months, got that sign ordered… and, well, that’s the whole picture you just saw. Frank’s Boat Repair. Nice and simple, gets the job done.”

You were too thrilled to even playfully roast him for such a plain name, though you knew it was exactly his style. He wasn’t one to be extravagant, he didn’t care for material things or having items-- he was a simple man who loved his work, his niece, his fiancée, his one eyed cat, and his newest child. Hugging him even tighter, you kissed him lovingly as you murmured, “I’m so happy for you, babe, this is amazing.” You playfully tapped his nose, adding, “And I’m too happy to yell at you for keeping this from me, so well played, Adler.” He chuckled softly and brought himself down, now face-to-face with your belly as he pressed his lips against the swelled curve. “Mm, don’t worry little man, I’ll teach you all the ways to get out of being in trouble with your high maintenance mother. You’ll practically be a pro by the time you’re out of there.” You rolled your eyes, playfully whacking his head. “I am not high maintenance. You know you wouldn’t have proposed to me if I was.”

He smiled as he rolled his eyes-- a typical reaction in this household-- standing up straight again and leaning down to kiss you more slowly and passionately. “Mm. I would have. Because there are way too many reasons to be with you for the rest of my life than there are reasons not to be.”

You smiled as you kissed your fiance back, wrapping both your arms and legs around him and letting yourself melt into his hold, mumbling, “I love you, Frank.”

“I love you too, Princess.”

#frank adler #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #frank adler fanfic #chris evans imagine #chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fluff

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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years

Note

OK PROPOSAL?? HOUSE HUNTING?? CHILD ADOPTION??? WHAT??? CARE TO ELABORATE??? Also can I just say that all med students really are the same? I have personally threatened my own Dutch bf into delaying any proposal ideas until both of our degrees are done bc the Future is my only motivator and if I get it too soon it won't be good lol. It cracks me up to think that as soon as quinn's criteria are met nando the simp trips over himself to propose (literally?) lol

Okay, people, because of this ask, and because I feel like it, it’s time to talk about far-future Quindo. I will answer some of your questions that have been looming based on my continuous dropped hints. Come with me on this journey.

And by the way, Brenna, it continues to entertain me how you and Quinn are literally the same.😂😂 Quinn would absolutely personally threaten Nando not to get too many creative ideas until they at least have gotten a place to live together, and Quinn has started in medical school.

Let’s hop under the cut and I’ll tell you some details! (This got so long, but no regrets.)

- So I think I’ve talked about this in a few places now, but something that’s always true with Quinn and Nando, even early on, is that they understand their relationship is long-term. Neither of them is really looking to date casually, and once they’ve been together for a reasonable amount of time to draw this conclusion (six months, I’d say?), they’re each already pretty much planning on getting married. Do I think they necessarily talk about this that early on? Probably not. But the long-term future conversations come along eventually, and they’re very much on the same page about everything.

- I also did this post semi-recently about the fact that their relationship very much contributes to each of them wanting to settle down. They both knew they wanted, like, marriage and kids one day before they had each other, but the presence of each other makes it much more real for both of them. With each other, there’s a person in those daydreams of the future, a more concrete plan in mind. Instead of just thinking of my future husband, they can think specifically of each other.

- Anyway. As I’ve said, Nando is already sort of thinking about proposal plans before they graduate. (Here’s a glimpse into his simp brain circa graduation.) But they also have a lot of other plans and things to do around the time of graduation. Here’s where they wind up at the time of graduation.

- Nando has secured a job, to start mid-summer, with the Phoenix Dept. of Social Services. Is this a real department that exists? Let’s just say I hope so. I feel like it has to. Anyway, it’s very much related to everything he studied with his sociology major, and it’s exactly what he wanted, and he’s very happy.

- Quinn is going to medical school. I feel like this has been heavily implied. Bear with me and suspend your disbelief a little, because, look: I fully understand how difficult medical school admissions actually are. And I also understand that you can’t necessarily be choosy with where you go based on geography, since the aspiring medical student in my life is always going on like I’m just going to apply to like fifty schools all over the place and go wherever I get in. But I want Quinn to have nice things and also geographic stability, so....

- Let’s just say Quinn puts a lot of eggs in the U of Arizona medical school basket. I think he submits other applications, but as we’ve discussed in mostly theatre contexts, Quinn is somehow an extremely confident person and also the king of underestimating his ability to succeed. He always expects disappointment, because he believes this is the key to never actually being disappointed. (See this ficlet for a theatre dive into his mentality on that topic.)

- For this reason, I think Quinn maybe anticipates a rejection in med school admissions. His plan, for if/when this happens, is that he’ll take a year off. He’s fully aware that that might hurt his chances with getting into medical school at all, but I think this is a good time to remind everybody that Quinn, for a hot minute, doesn’t really have a home. Nando and his family welcome him in when his grandparents disown him to ensure that he has a place to go, but the only reason Quinn isn’t homeless for awhile in there is because he’s living at college.

- And yes, I know that, like, renting an apartment and going to medical school is a thing you can do. But for Quinn, trying to establish stability in a life with Nando is the most important thing. He wants, desperately, to go to medical school, but is willing to delay that if the only way he could go would be to be very far away from him.

- We have to just imagine that things work out for Quinn, because, spoiler alert, he does get in at U of Arizona, to start the autumn after graduation. Senior spring, he gets a letter from them, puts it on his desk, and literally doesn’t open it for an entire day because he thinks it’s a rejection. The reason he does open it is because Nando sees it and freaks out.

- Anyway. For Quinn, I want good things. Therefore, he is simultaneously able to start a life with Nando and live out his academic and career goals.

- So this is an extremely long-winded way of telling you that Nando and Quinn move to Arizona after graduation, which I’ve told you in passing before. Because they are college graduates and neither of them has a whole lot of money, they actually move back in with Mama Hernandez.

- Please understand that Maria Hernandez, as a very Catholic Latina woman, welcomes Quinn into her home with open arms— but absolutely refuses to let them share a bedroom.😂😂😂😂

(On the phone, like a month before graduation.)

Maria: I’ve been cleaning the basement up for Quinn. Do you think I should clean out the closet, or will he only use a dresser?

Nando: Uh... Mama? What do you mean, cleaning out the basement?

Maria: Well, it’s where he’ll be staying.

Nando: .......... But we’re getting married?

Maria: Oh, not so fast, Sebastián. You aren’t married yet, are you? And unmarried couples under my roof—

Nando, who has heard this before: I know, I know, but—

Maria: It’s just the same as last summer.

Nando: But we’re looking for a house together—

Maria: It’s a matter of under my roof. No buts.

Nando, who has literally been sleeping in the same bed with Quinn 80% of the time for the past four years of college: Mama—

Maria: No buts, Sebastián!

- So they move into separate rooms in Maria Hernandez’s house.😂😂😂😂

- That summer, Quinn does another theatre thing the way he did with Gabi and Rosa the summer before, and Nando works at his Tio’s restaurant part-time while he waits for his new job to start. He keeps working for Tio, even if only a shift or two per week, even once he’s started his new job, because that restaurant was his papa’s along with Tio’s and he’s incapable of not helping out his family.

- They settle into a routine, and it’s a very lovely summer while they wait for the rest of their lives to begin. :)

- By the way, somewhere in the area of senior spring, Nando bought an engagement ring. It was the result of a lot of saving and planning, and it’s a simple ring but it’s very suited to Quinn’s tastes, and basically he’s just low-key bursting at the seams to get engaged. (Not that it’ll change Maria’s bedsharing policy😂😂😂😂 but he just really wants to be his fiancé.)

- But here’s the fun part. Quinn has also been thinking about proposing.

- Now let us all cry together while I tell you that Quinn goes to Maria to ask about proposing to him. It’s while Nando is at work at the restaurant one night, I think, and Gabi and Rosa are, idk, either out or just in bed. They’re 11 or 12, so they’re probably in bed. Quinn and Maria get along really well, so they’re just having a conversation out on the back patio at the house. They spend a lot of evenings like that while Quinn waits for Nando to get home from work and give him the one (1) goodnight kiss that Maria allows them before they retire to their separate chambers.

- The conversation is pretty standard of most ‘asking the parent because I want to propose’ conversations. Maria, of course, loves Quinn, and wants him to be an official part of her family by becoming her son-in-law, so she gives him her blessing. (By the way, I do think that Maria is aware that Nando is planning a proposal, but she’s possibly entertained by the fact that they’re racing each other to do it.)

- Maria leaves, for a second, during this conversation with Quinn, and goes up to her own room. She comes downstairs with something and puts it in Quinn’s hand.

- It’s Nando’s papa’s wedding band.

- She tells him that this is what Ángel (Papa’s name) would have wanted.

- Quinn is incredibly, wholly touched by this gesture. When he tries to propose, this is what he’ll use.

- And house hunting!! Obviously, they don’t plan to live with Maria forever. Getting a place of their own is their top priority as soon as they graduate, but they don’t have nowhere near enough money saved up to do so.

- I think I have to make a whole other post about how they get a house and also how the engagement ultimately goes down, because this is getting so long, and even though those two things are set in place and planned, I feel like they’d each double the size of this monster bullet-list. So... feel free to ask me about them, and I’ll elaborate!!!!

- I’m also going to elaborate on the adoption/accidental baby acquisition thing in a separate post. But what happens, and when, and how? Stay tuned and I’ll tell you.

Thanks for enabling me, Brenna!!! I’m grateful for your asks, as always. :D

#quindo #mini quinny #nandoooooooo

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years

Text

we’re the fortunate ones

season five: enough of this terror, we deserve to know light. ♥️

Jake’s hand trails slowly up and down Amy’s back as they stand and talk to Terry, his movements ranging from palm-sized sweeps to finger tipped circles as the conversation wears on. One of his most favourite things in life is to listen to Amy flip into Nerd Mode, and right now her voice is bright and full of passion as she explains the origin of Auld Lang Syne to her audience.

“So really, it’s about acknowledging days gone by and raising a glass to all the moments - good and bad - that have passed,” she concludes, glancing at Jake out of the corner of her eye as she raises her own glass in example. Moving his free hand back up towards the base of her neck Jake takes the cue, finishing his own drink and resisting the urge to curl a strand of Amy’s hair around his fingers as Terry bids farewell a moment later, leading Sharon over to the bar for refills.

Once they are alone Amy shifts her weight to her right, leaning into Jake’s touch as his hand moves to her shoulder, and he presses a soft kiss to her temple. Emptying her glass and abandoning it on the table next to Jake’s, Amy glances around quickly before looking up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes that never fail to pull him in deep. “If you keep touching my back like that, Peralta, there is no way we’re making it to midnight.”

Jake laughs, dropping his hand to just the right spot on Amy’s lower back and pulling her closer. “We didn’t make it to midnight, Ames. If I’m remembering correctly, we didn’t even make it to eight.” Her responding blush makes him grin, and he throws her a wink knowing full well that Amy’s reliving the same memory.

They’d both arrived home from work late (it’s almost as though the criminals of New York have no respect for their plans), and in an attempt to save time Amy had squeezed herself in on Jake’s shower. And perhaps they’ve both been a little loved up lately - and maybe Amy just looked a little too sexy all soaped up like that - because showering quickly turned into other stuff and it hadn’t been long before Jake was being dragged out of the bathroom and into their bedroom (the rule was no sex in the shower after The Incident last June: fair, when he remembered the bruises they’d had in .. places). What happened next had been as awesome as ever, and if there hadn’t been a party they’d already said yes to, Jake would have found it far easier to convince Amy to stay right there in their bedroom for the rest of the evening.

“You’re still not off the hook for that one, babe.” Amy mumbles, reaching up to fiddle with the collar of his shirt and bringing his attention back to the present. “We were so late to the party, and I’m totally blaming that on you.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve, Ames. As long as we’re here before midnight, it’s totally fine.” He smiles at her, dropping his hand an inch lower as he rests his forehead briefly against hers. “And I think you’re forgetting who initiated what before, thank you very much.”

“Can a girl help it if her fiancée was particularly sweet at work today and she wanted to show her appreciation?” Tipping her head upwards, she bridges the gap between them with a kiss. “And besides, it was round two that made us late, and that one’s definitely on you.”

Jake’s heart skips a beat at the sound of fiancée, part of his mind still in disbelief that such a title could belong to him - even if he was the one on bended knee in the first place. Grinning, he shrugs in surrender, gliding his palm over her lower back again. “Right right, fair call ... I guess the sight of my fiancée in that setup you’ve got going on under there was just too much for me.” Amy laughs, her cheeks turning that soft pink that he loves to see, and he leans back in for another chaste kiss.

“Oh god, we’re totally that couple at the party that are all over each other, aren’t we?” she mumbles, tucking her head into Jake’s shoulder in faux shame. His smile is bright in response, sighing happily when Amy’s arms circle around his waist, telling him with her gentle grip that she has no intention of moving anytime soon.

“We so are babe. But you know what? I am totally okay with it.”

As Amy hums her assent, Jake’s eyes flicker around the room, taking in the black and gold decorations that covered a very good portion of the venue Boyle had rented for the night. He and Genevieve had gone all out this year, and once everyone learned to avoid the truly strange options on the menu, it was turning out to be a genuinely enjoyable evening.

He finds Rosa in one corner, the grip on her glass of whiskey tight as she stands listening to Gina, who is undoubtedly discussing the other party guests. Her stance is comfortable, and about as relaxed as Rosa gets, but still Jake waits until their eyes meet from across the room before he can be sure that she’s okay.

Their casual nights of drinking in silence had increased since they’d gotten out of prison, only now they weren’t so silent. Memories of the darker moments behind bars would often stay collectively pooled at the bottom of their glasses, jumbling into a heap along the edge of their table before disappearing with the barman. As the weeks and months passed by there were little reminders that would strike unexpected, stinging like a starving animal gnawing at unhealed wounds. Other times they simmered slowly below the surface, waiting for the perfectly inopportune moment to strike. The scars were fading, but they were there, and her family's reaction to her coming out had not helped things at all. Surviving this year had brought them closer together, and with everyone around them happily celebrating the year that was, Jake wouldn’t have blamed Rosa for a second if she’d had the sudden urge to be Anywhere But Here.

Gina turns her head to see where Rosa’s half smile is directed, and she gives Jake her best I got this face when his eyes flicker over to her. The bright pink 2018 crown that she had worked into her hairstyle was doing it’s very best to attract just enough attention, glitter catching the light as the redhead gives he and Amy a once-over, shaking her head in mock disgust. He brushes off his oldest friend’s glare, rolling his eyes in a completely mature response before returning his attention to Amy, tightening his grip around her in defiance. Gina didn’t understand what this evening meant to them, and in all honesty he didn’t need her to.

It had only been a few months ago that Jake had genuinely begun to believe that a life with Amy was only ever going to be a dream. The thing about prison was that it worked relentlessly at making sure that all inmates were aware that they’d become just another number - that the cement blocks that now made up your world would not acknowledge or mourn your disappearance when or if it occurred. Unsurprisingly, the nights had turned out to be the hardest, and his overactive mind would spiral around him as his deepest fears began to infiltrate - all with one undeniable theme: you’re never going to make it out of here.

But by the grace of all that is good - and a perhaps not-so-legal acquisition of information - Hawkins’ reign of terror had been brought crashing down, and both Jake and Rosa’s sentences had been overturned. Now; the air felt fresher, the sun looked brighter, and after a (slightly) hitch-less Halloween Heist, there was a sparkling diamond on Amy’s ring finger. This was going to be their only New Year’s Eve as an engaged couple, and wild horses couldn’t drag them away from each other tonight.

Amy’s hands sweep along his waist as though she can sense what he’s thinking about (let’s face it: she probably can), and she raises up slightly, dropping a feather-light kiss to Jake’s neck before whispering “We should probably go and at least pretend to socialise with the other guests, right?”

Shaking his head, Jake uses his free hand to curl the edges of her hair around his finger, the other maintaining it’s steady grip along her back, comfortable in the familiarity of her curves. She had been so much thinner when he’d gotten back from prison, his arms wrapping around her more than they’d used to. HIs observation of such on their first night back together had been shrugged off, added with the quiet admittance that their phone calls had fed her more than food, and it had cut him to the quick. He’d counted far too many hours in scratchy orange jumpsuits, desperate in his need to clear his name from this wrongful persecution, but through it all his fight for a future with Amy had been paramount. To see the physical proof that all of this had affected her as well somehow hurt greater than anything else he’d had to endure.

From that night on, their healing had been slow - but it was always together.

Mimicking Jake’s shake of his head with her own, Amy rests her chin against his chest, looking up at Jake with such an abundance of love that he truly wonders what good deeds he’s done in his life to be rewarded with her heart. Amy Santiago was undoubtedly the love of his life - he’d known it long before he’d ever felt confident enough to say it out loud - and next year they were going to be make it official.

“You know what?” Jake asked, cocking his head to the side slightly, grinning when Amy raises her eyebrows in a silent question. “In just 135 days, I’m gonna marry your butt so hard.”

“Oh yeah?” He nods his head enthusiastically, and Amy’s eyes begin to crinkle as she mirrors his grin. “That’s good to know, because in 136 days, I’ve got some pretty serious honeymoon sex planned for us. It would have been a shame for that to go to waste.”

“Not gonna lie, that sounds kinda amazing.”

“The binder I’m making is going to blow. your. mind. babe.”

Leaning down to kiss her, Jake whispers, “God I can’t wait to be your husband.”

It was true. Their wedding was going to be amazing (he’s been secretly compiling a list of Jock Jams to surprise Amy with, and its only halfway done yet already awesome), but truly Jake was beyond ready to be married. To wear a band on his finger that told the whole world that he loves one person above all others, and that person was Amy Santiago. To be able to refer to her as his wife, and to smile proudly when she called him her husband. They were the tiniest of things, but when it all came together it was a life he couldn’t wait to start.

Amy smiles up at him, craning up on her toes to steal another kiss and Jake sighs happily against her mouth. Wiping off a smudge of lipstick from his lips as she pulls away, Amy shakes her head slowly. “You know, it really is ridiculous how corny we’re being tonight.”

Digging his teeth into his lower lip briefly, Jake glances around the room again before shrugging. “This is just our engage-moon period,” he states, and when Amy stares blankly he continues. “I mean … there’s always a honeymoon period after you get married, right? Then … by that logic there should be an engage-moon period, when you’re freshly engaged and everything just seems freakin’ awesome.”

Amy’s mouth turns down slightly as she studies him, that cute concentration face taking over her features, and if he didn’t love her enough already he might just love her a little bit more as she nods in agreement. “You know what, you’re absolutely right.”

“And besides,” Jake continues, unable to contain his smile, “this year is going to be amazing. We’re going to get married, you’re going to become a sergeant -”

“We don’t know that, Jake …”

“You’re going to be a sergeant,” giving her a pointed look he carries on - “the nine-nine will continue to kick crime to the curb and you and I are going to have super-hot married sex in every single room in our apartment.”

Her laughter is loud, the carefree giggles bouncing onto Jake’s chest as her body shakes, and Jake can’t help but join in. This is what he wanted - all day, every day, for as long as they both shall live.

A steady voice breaks through their little bubble, interrupting their laughter with the statement - “If you two are about done with the lovey-dovey stuff, we can start counting down to the new year.”

Pulling away slightly, Amy wraps her right arm around Jake’s waist and clears her throat. “Oh, hey Gina.” With a smile, she accepts the glass of champagne that Rosa offers, taking a sip to distract herself from the embarrassment Jake can tell she’s feeling.

Reaching for the glass that Gina is holding out for him, Jake once again ignores her judgemental stare, choosing instead to secure his left arm around Amy’s shoulder in both comfort and solidarity. Let the world cringe at how ridiculously sappy they were being. If there was anything that the past year had taught him, it was that time was never guaranteed. And now that a happy future was finally in their grasp, he wasn’t going to give it up for anything.

The passing minutes are filled with casual conversation, ranging from stories about Gina’s newborn to the group comparing horror stories over what they’d discovered on the buffet, and as the hosts come over to join them, they begin to countdown to the end of 2017.

When he looks back on photos from the evening, Jake can tell there was a cacophony of party poppers, blowers and calls of celebration, adding to the showers of confetti surrounding them all as the countdown falls to zero, but in all honesty the only thing that he can remember from that moment is Amy. Her hand, curled around a glass of champagne and pressed to his chest as he pulls her in for a kiss that he definitely intended to be sweet but suddenly turned into so much more. The feel of her lips, soft and bewitching as their tongues begin to tangle; her feet pressed in up against his own and her free hand touching his cheek, thumb stroking softly in the way that has always, always made his heart pound like crazy.

They weren’t often ones for such public displays of affection. But the past few years had tested them more than either could have expected, and it felt so good to show that FINALLY, love was going to win.

Jake’s smile is wider than he can help by the time they pull away, and when Amy chases his lips for another quick press, he’s only too happy to oblige.

“Happy New Year, Jake.” Her voice is soft, and her eyes are so bright and full of elation that Jake can’t help but lean in for another kiss.

“Happy New Year, Ames.”

Still holding the champagne, Amy wraps her arms carefully around Jake’s neck and grins. “We’re getting married this year!”

“It’s gonna be the best year ever.”

The roll of Gina’s eyes is almost audible. “You guys are so gross. But you also look really happy, so I’m just going to let it slide for tonight.” With a shake of her head, she tips her glass upside down, shaking the last few drops into her mouth. “Damn, being a mother really changes a gal.”

Rosa chimes in, her tone as factual as ever as she nods her head in Charles’ direction “Also, you should probably know Boyle just took like twenty photos of the two of you kissing.”

“They’re for my scrapbook!”

“Dammit, Boyle!”

#my fic #b99 2020 vision challenge #okay so this was probably a little sappy #but ehhhh #they're engaged and in love #so lets just go with it #title from Joanna Newsom #because SHE #peraltiago fic #jake x amy fanfic #b99 fanfic #b99 fandom events #my writing

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jade4813 · 5 years

Text

A Lie, Told Often Enough, Chapter 20

Author Notes: Inspired by @fallinginloveinaflash‘s AU prompt. All credit for the idea goes entirely to her. I’ve loved this story so much, I’m sad to see it go! I hope everyone has enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it - and stay tuned for the first chapter of my next Westallen AU, Sparks Fly, to be posted soon!

Title: A Lie, Told Often Enough

Rating: NC-17

Synopsis: Iris just landed her dream job at a PR firm and her first assignment is reforming the bad boy image of celebrity artist Barry Allen. He’s overly cocky and well-known for being a playboy, but Iris has never met a challenge she couldn’t handle.

Chapters: 20/20

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Blind Gossip – The recent breakup between this sexy rock star and his fashionable fiancée have made big news, but sources close to the couple say that it may have all been for show. Rumor is they’re closer than ever but trying to keep their relationship on the down-low. Dare we still hope for wedding bells in the future? Think you know the identity of our coy lovebirds? Sound off below!

“Where are you going?” Iris asked sleepily as Barry yawned and slid silently out from under the covers. “Come back to bed.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, bending over to press a kiss against her forehead. “I thought you might want some breakfast.”

She fisted a hand in his t-shirt and gave it a slight tug until he laid over her, his body pressing her into the mattress. “I don’t want breakfast. I want you to make love to me.”

“Make love to you?” he asked softly, brushing his lips against her cheek, remembering a time she would have phrased the request differently. He liked the way her words now felt on his tongue and in his heart.

Misinterpreting his repetition, she blushed. “Did that sound cheesy? It sounded, cheesy, didn’t it.”

“Not at all! Sweetheart, I’m always happy to make love to you. As long as you promise you won’t look away.”

She smiled. “So stop talking and hold me, already,” she demanded.

Barry laughed and started to tease her. “You’re bossy in the morn-” But her lips were on his, her tongue delving into his mouth, before he could even get out the words.

Royal Heartthrob? Barry Allen Lands Coveted Lead Role in Romantic Fantasy ‘A Royal Affair’

The lights were off when Iris walked through the front doors, and she looked around in surprise. She’d received a message from Barry to meet her at the cozy restaurant for dinner, but there seemed to be nobody there.

“Hello? Anybody there?” she called out, wondering if she’d gotten the day or time wrong.

“Can’t say how the days will unfold. Can’t say what the future may hold. But I want you in it. Every hour, every minute.”

She recognized Barry’s voice as soon as he started to sing and turned towards the sound just as waiters dressed in black unobtrusively stepped forward and lit candles until the entire restaurant was lit by a warm glow. Then they melted into the shadows again, leaving Iris and Barry alone.

“This world can race by far too fast. Hard to see while it’s all flying past. But it’s clear now, when you’re standing here now. I am meant to be wherever you are next to me.”

“Barry, what is this?” she asked, looking at the table, shrouded in white-linens and covered with rose petals. Had he rented out the entire restaurant?

“All I want to do is come running home to you. Come running home to you. And all my life I promise to keep running home to you. Keep running home to you.” As she watched, he got down on one knee and pulled his mother’s engagement ring out of his pocket. Iris caught her breath as he held it out to her, his hands trembling softly.

“And I could see it right from the start, right from the start. That you would be my light in the dark, light in the dark. Oh, you gave me no other choice but to love you.”

Iris didn’t realize when she’d placed her hands over her mouth, but she felt her smile against her fingertips. Seeing her expression, he stopped singing just long enough to say, “I told you. Every song I write is for you. And they always will be.”

“All I want to do is come running home to you. Come running home to you. And all my life I promise to keep running home to you. Keep running home, home to you.

“Can’t say how the days will unfold. Can’t change what the future may hold. But I want you in it. Every hour, every minute.”

As his song came to an end, she stifled her laugh with her hands. “You know, in a sense, we’re already engaged. We’ve been engaged this whole time.”

Barry grinned. “Yeah, but that was when I was pretending it was all an act. You deserve a proposal that’s real. Iris West, will you marry me? For real this time?”

She nodded. “Oh, Barry. Of course I will.”

Iris West and Publicist Linda Park Launch New Image Consultant Service, ParkWest Consulting

“It looks like our opening announcement was a big success. What do you think?” Linda cried happily as she looked around at the tables of friends, colleagues, and potential clients who had come out to celebrate their new venture. “Hold that thought. I should touch base with Eddie.” Eddie Thawne had become a good friend since their one pretend-date, and he had agreed to be their first official client. He had also been the one to suggest they set him up with Patty Spivot, if she agreed to engage in the ruse. She was still struggling to rehabilitate her image, and he’d thought they could solve each other’s problems. And since everyone had seen pictures of the two of them talking at the art show, the ground work had already been laid. “If we want to get people talking about him and Patty, making them the new It Couple, we want to make sure everyone sees them together tonight. No rest for the wicked, right?”

As she left the table, Iris breathed a sigh of relief. “You know, there were times I was halfway convinced we’d never get here. It’s still pretty scary when I think about it too long.”

Barry pressed a kiss against her lips and murmured, “Really? I never had any doubt. I knew you could do it.”

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly unbiased.”

He shrugged. “True. But I was also technically your first client, so I knew what you were capable of.” Seeing the nervousness that still lingered, he brushed his thumb along the curve of her cheek. “Remaking an image isn’t about selling a lie, at least not to you. For you, it’s about letting people show who they really are. And that’s why you’re so good at this. It’s why I never doubted you would make this a success.”

She chuckled, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but if that’s true, why do I still feel like I have a million butterflies ricocheting around my stomach?”

“Ah, well. That just means you need a distraction, Princess.” Under the tablecloth, he slowly slid his hand between her legs, his fingers inching up the hem of her dress.

Iris’s eyes went wide as she covered his hand with her own. “You wouldn’t!” she breathed, scandalized and – almost against her will – getting aroused at the thought. And the memory.

Barry’s smile was a wicked reminder of the night their former charade all began, when he reminded her he wasn’t wholesome – and implied he didn’t want to be. “Wanna bet?”

His fingers started to stroke her through her panties and Iris had to stifle her gasp of arousal. “This is getting to be…a very bad…habit,” she moaned against his shoulder, pressing against him as he pressed his lips against the top of her head to stifle his responding laughter.

EXCLUSIVE IMAGES of Top-Secret West-Allen Oceanside Wedding!

“You seem lost in thought tonight,” Iris murmured as she curled up against him, her head rested next to his on his pillow. “Everything okay?” Stroking the line that had formed between his brows, she teased him, “You’re not regretting this marriage already, are you? It’s only been...what...six hours?”

“Of course not,” he replied quickly, though the frown line disappeared. “I was just…I was thinking about how we got here.”

“Ah, definitely a topic that should bring on grumpy face,” she said with mock seriousness, though the corners of her mouth twitched with a suppressed smile.

He chucked a brushed a kiss against the tip of her nose. “Okay, maybe not. But I was just thinking…earlier today, when I was standing up there, just waiting for the first glimpse of you. Halfway afraid you’d come to your senses and make a break for it. I realized that I made you a promise and I failed to live up to it.”

Her humor fading, Iris frowned, shifting her head on the pillow. “What do you mean?” she asked softly. “I don’t remember you breaking any promises.”

“I swore I would be there with you every step of the way, and then I just ended things. I hurt you, and I can’t forgive myself for that.”

Iris lifted a hand to brush his hair back from his forehead. “But babe, you said it yourself. You didn’t know –”

“I still broke my promise. I still hurt you.”

Pursing her lips, Iris thought over his words. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I broke a promise, too.” At his confused expression, she continued, “I promised myself I wouldn’t fall in love with you and look what happened.”

Barry let out a surprised bark of laughter. “That’s not – Is that supposed to make me feel better? You realize that’s completely different, right?”

Her grin was mischievous as she threw her leg over his hips and lifted herself over him. “I thought it would make you feel better to know we’ve both made mistakes.”

Barry smiled in return. “Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you really kinda suck at this pep talk thing.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to spend the rest of your life making your broken promise up to me, and I’ll have to spend the rest of my life making my sucky pep talks up to you. Does that sound fair?” she asked, shrugging out of the straps of her nightgown, letting it fall to a pool over her thighs.

Barry felt himself grow hard again and lifted his hand to her shoulders, gliding one slowly down her body to stroke her breasts. He linked his other hand in hers, stroking the gleaming golden band that symbolized the lifetime of love ahead of them. The reminder that the man who once believed he could never have a normal relationship had found a love that would last forever. He wanted to memorize this moment and her beauty, to carry them with him for the rest of his life. “Yeah,” he agreed, rocking against her until her head fell back with a gasp. “That sounds fair.”

#a lie told often enough #fanfiction #my fanfiction #barry allen #iris west #westallen #rock star au

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mrsjaxtellerfan · 5 years

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Coming Home (Jax x OC) Chapter 13

Hey guys, sorry it has been so long since I’ve posted, life has been crazy! Written with @lookprettyliveclassyplaydirtyyt

Chapter 13

“What about this one?” Jax asks, looking over the listing.

“Not big enough, and it’s too far away from the school.”

“The last one was too far from T-M. Where do you WANT to live, darlin’?”

“I want to be close to Gemma and Clay and the school.”

“But not the garage?”

“Not exactly.”

“You want me to ride like 30 minutes to work?” Jax fakes exasperation.

“No of course not. The club just gets shot up a lot and I don’t want to have the kids near that.”

“You’re right. I’ll fix the search parameters and try again.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“I like this one. It’s not too small, a big backyard, close to the school and my parents, and it has that white shit you wanted on the outside.”

“We should set up a time to go look at it.” I say, leaning over his shoulder looking at the ad.

“I’ll call.” Jax replies.

“Thank you.” I reply, going to check on Abel.

“Okay, we can go look this afternoon if you want.” Jax says, closing his phone.

“Great! We are going to have to bring Abel though. Gemma can pick up Sophia.”

“Ma can watch Abel too.”

“I guess you’re right, I just don’t want to leave him alone. Just look how cute he is!” I say, holding him up so his cheek is on mine, and he’s making baby noises.

“It will be easier to check out the house if we aren’t farting around a baby.” Jax laughs, poking Abel’s cheek making him bust out in baby laughter.

“But just look at him!” I exclaim. “Ilove him so much!”

“He’s obviously his dads son. He has you wrapped around his little fingers.”

“Sophia has you wrapped around her little finger. So you have no room to talk.”

“She’s my daughter, she’s supposed to be.”

“And Abel’s my son.” I laugh, before stopping and looking at Jax going to apologize.

“He is, I want him to be at least. I overstepped didn’t I?”

“We could make it official.”

“Get married?”

“That’s not what I meant but I guess that’d make it pretty official, huh?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have too.”

“Jax, I don’t picture myself with anyone but you. I want to marry you.”

“Here.” He says, slipping me his reaper ring. “I don’t have one right now, I’ll have to get one.”

“Woah, are you asking?” I gasp. “I didn’t mean we had to get married right now!”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”

“Well I guess I don’t have much of a choice do I?” I smile.

“Nope. You’re stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t want anything else, Jax. Now let's go look at this house, fiancé.”

“Sure thing, future Mrs Teller.” Jax smiles, pulling me in for a kiss.

“Did we seriously just get engaged?” I laugh, pulling back from the kiss.

“You bet your pretty ass we did.” Jax laugh, smacking my ass.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

“Sophia is gonna be so happy, Mommy and Daddy are gonna be together forever.”

“I’m all about the fairytale, babe.”

“Jax, look at this bathtub!” I exclaim. “I think 3 of me could fit in it and still have room!”

“That means that we can both fit in it.” Jax laugh, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling my neck.

“I think I like the shower better.” Jax says, pulling away and walking over to the his and hers shower. “This bitch is huge! Shower sex will be amazing in here!”

“Jax!” I exclaim, smacking his arm as the realtor blushes.

“I’ll just leave you two to discuss.” She says, booking it out of the room.

“You scared her away.” I laugh, wrapping my arms around him and kissing his back.

“Do you want an office? A place to work, away from the kids?”

“I’ll for sure need my office. I’m still running a business ya know. Speaking of, I have to go to New York for a few days here soon.”

“I’ll come with you. Ma’s been saying I need to take my vacation days, and that I’m too much like you dad.”

“You can see one of my stores! We can ask her to keep the kids and make an adult trip out of it.”

“Can we have hotel sex?” Jax asks, smirking.

“Baby, we can have all of the hotel sex and office sex and store sex and any other kind of sex we want.”

“Nothing to fancy, like 2 and half, 3 stars.” He says. “Wait, Office? Dressing room?”

“Actually, I have an apartment in New York for when I’m there for work.”

“New York apartment sex?”

“Duh. You can see where Soph grew up, well until we moved to Hershey.”

“You went to New York when you left?”

“Yep, NYU. That’s where I started my business before it expanded all across the world. I have stores in all 50 states, the meeting I have in New York is with a company overseas.”

“You’re expanding? Is that gonna take you away from us?”

“No, Jax. This expansion will help me work from home. I can do the designs, have them preproduced and shipped to Charming, make all final edits, and get it into production. It might help it go faster, actually. I’ve been thinking about opening a store here in Charming too, one that I can make home base. New York offices will always be headquarters though, but I don’t have to be there. That’s why I have managers and appointed editors.”

“Baby, I don’t know what any of that means.”

“Well it means I’m the big boss.”

“But do you have to go to New York all the time?”

“Not all of the time but the trips to New York will happen frequently while I’m working on expanding to other countries.”

“Oh. Well, as long as I can come with you. And if not me then Happy. He wouldn’t let you get hurt.”

“Jax knock it off. I lived in New York for 2 years by myself before I even met Darren. I do not need a babysitter nor do I want one. I will go alone if you can’t come.”

“I’m serious babe. Happy is gonna come with you if I can’t. I don’t want anything I take you from me or the kids.”

“Jackson, this is my work. I worked my ass off for this and I’m not letting you get in the way of it.”

“Happy can fit himself into some small spaces. He was playing hide and seek with Sophia once. He fit into the space between the Bar and the fridge.

“Jax stop. Let’s finish looking at the house. I’m don’t talking about this right now.”

“Alright, let's go see what room Sophia might want.”

“Okay.” I mumble, following behind him, knowing that a fight was going to break out later.

“So what do you guys think?” The realtor asks.

“Jax?”

“I love it!”

“So do I, and so will the kids.”

“Great!” The realtor says. “If you want to make a down payment today, you can move in as soon as next week.”

“Actually, we are going to pay in full.” I say, going into business mode.

“Ari, we didn’t talk about that. We still haven’t sold the other house.”

“We are good financially.” I argue.

“But what are we going to do with two houses? We can’t live in both.”

“Rent it out or sell it or something. Jax I don’t want to bullshit around with waiting and payments. We want the house, and I have the money so we are getting it.”

“When can we move in?” Jax asks the realtor.

“As soon as the paperwork is finished and the check is in.”

“Great, we will fill out the paperwork tonight and get a check from the bank. Thanks for your help.” I say, holding out my hand to shake hers.

“You’re welcome!” She says, shaking my hand.

“We need to talk.” Jax says as we leave.

“About what? Jax, you and I both agreed this was the one. We can sell the other house, make a profit, and invest it in the kids going to college.”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to be the one paying for a new house.” Jax says.

“Don’t pull that sexist bullshit with me. We both know you wouldn’t be able to afford this house. We are getting the house we want so chill. It’ll be fine baby.”

“I wanted to pay for it, Ari. Please, let me pay for something.”

“Jax, you’ll be helping with bills and your name will be on the house too. Calm down, baby.”

“It was supposed to be our house.”

“It is.”

“Well it seems like you are making all of the decisions.”

“Do you not want to sign the papers, Jax? I want this house, Jax. It’s perfectly perfect. And we can make it our own with the kids. I want this with you.”

“I want the house, I just don’t want you paying the whole bill for it.”

“Do you remember what you used to joke about when we were younger?” I ask, wrapping my arms around him.

“What?” He asks, refusing to hug me back.

“You said you wanted a sugar mama. Well, baby, you got one.” I laugh.

“I was joking. I could never do that to you, darlin’.”

“Just hug me, dammit.” I say, as he wraps his arms around me.

“It’ll be fine. Plus I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to be in our own house where we can have sex wherever we want.” I laugh.

“Oh, you bet your ass we will be christening every room in this house. Minus the kids’ rooms.”

“I’m looking forward to it, baby.” I wink. “Let’s get back to the kiddos and fill out the paperwork. We gotta go to the bank tomorrow and get the check. Sophia might be sad to leave Gemma’s though, she really likes it there.”

“I’ll miss it too, but I think I’m going to like us having a place of our own more. Sophia will love it here.” Jax says, kissing my head.

“I agree. Sophia will love it here. Do you think the guys would be willing to help you pack up the house? I don’t think I can ever step foot in there again.”

“Of course, baby. We can ask them tonight when we announce our engagement.”

“Wait, we are announcing it today?”

“Yep. It’s Sunday baby. You know what that means.”

“Fuck. I forgot about dinner.”

“We go every day, and you forgot about dinner? It’s the only meal you eat.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind with the business expansion.”

“I get that. Come on, I bet Sophia is wondering where we are.”

“I wanna tell Gemma before we announce it to everyone.”

“Like she’s the queen of England. She knows first.”

“I want to tell her we will be moving out and that we got engaged. She’s like a mother to me and I want her to know first.”

“I know she is, baby. I wish your dad was here, he would be so proud of you.”

“Ugh, don’t bring him up or I will be a bawling mess. We don’t want me to look like I smoked a bunch of weed.”

“A cute bawling mess, that I love very much.”

“I love you too. Speaking of weed though, do you remember when we used to sneak out and get super baked on the roof of the clubhouse?”

“I remember one time my dad caught us, and then asked if he could join.”

“Oh my gosh! I remember that. We were so scared we were in deep shit. I was like 13!”

“You were about to cry and beg him for forgiveness. And he just said as long as I know you’re safe, and you save me some. Just don’t tell your mother I let you.”

“I miss him, Jax. It’s been 10 years, and I think about him every single day. He would have loved Sophia.”

“Me too, baby. But I’m sure he’s proud of us and glad that we ended up together. He used to joke with your dad that we would grow up and get married.”

“My dad hated you, Jax.” I laughed. “That is why he said he would pay me NOT to marry you, anyone but you! Do you remember when he tried to set me up with that Hale kid?”

“Baby, he changed his mind about me by the time he died. He realized even before we did that we would be good together.”

“I wish he could see how far I’ve come. You, Jax, helped me get his far. Sophia and I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

“Actually, I think you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the dead guy i found in my bed with his pants down, but I’m glad you came back.”

“I’m glad I did too.” I smile.

“We better get back to Gems.” Jax says.

“Yeah. We should get back, eat dinner, and help Sophia pack.” I reply.

“I think we should repaint and decorate before we move in. Get new furniture and the works.” Jax says, holding my hand over the console.

“What color do you want to paint, Jax? Gonna spend your days doing outlaw stuff and your nights painting your house?”

“Yep!” Jax laughs. “I don’t know what color I want the rooms but we for sure gotta paint Phia’s room purple and Abel’s room blue.”

“Abel should get a racecar room, he loves race cars.”

“He’s still too small for the racecar bed, Ari.”

“I didn’t mean the bed. I meant the theme.”

“Okay. The guys can help and I’m sure Gemma will help with furniture. You know how much she loves design.” Jax says.

“Yeah, her and I are going to be busy.”

“She can probably help with the wedding.”

“Baby, let’s worry about getting moved into the house before we start worrying about a wedding. Plus I want a super small ceremony if we have one at all. Just family.”

“Does that include the club?”

“Yes, Jax. They are Sophia’s Uncles. I’ve grown up with the club Jax. Hell, you can even invite OPie. I know you guys made up at Phias party. The club is family.”

“I’m glad, baby. I’m so glad you are okay will all of the club stuff. I don’t know if I could take being pulled between you and the club.”

“I don’t have another choice but to be okay with the club stuff, Jax. I love you, no matter what you do.”

“Still. I love you.”

“Love you too.” I smile, pecking him on the cheek.

“Let’s get some food in your belly.” Jax says, laughing as my stomach growls.

“Thank god!” I laugh.

“If you would eat more than once a day, I bet you’d be fine.”

“Hey, gotta watch this figure. I’m already pudgy.”

“I like it.”

“I don’t. Plus now I’m not working out and jogging as much as I was in Hershey and I’m putting on the weight. I don’t wanna be fat when you look like that, Jax.” I sigh, crossing my arms.

“There’s a gym, I can have Rat go with you if you want to work out. I like you, babe, all of you.”

“JAX! I can do things on my own!”

“The club has a lot of enemies, excuse me for wanting to keep my wife around!”

“Lyla and I can go together. We don’t need babysitters.”

“That could work.”

“It’s going to work. I’m not signing up for being followed constantly, Jax. I need space of my own.”

“Half Sac was shitty at that. He waved at Piney one time. He wasn’t even supposed to get caught. I know you need space, I just don’t want you to be alone right now. I’m sorry, it won’t be forever.”

“Jax, it’ll always be like this. I need my freedom.”

“Girl time, right?”

“Yes! And adult time, I gotta get back to work I’m going crazy sitting around doing nothing.”

“So, what do girls talk about? Sex? Makeup?”

“Sex. Periods. Babies. Kids. Wine. You name it and we talk about.”

“One time, I heard Ma talking to one of her friends about blending out eyeshadow. What does that even mean?”

“It’s harder than it sounds. It’s just making a Smokey eye like I have on.”

“It can’t be that hard. You just rub the brush back and forth, right? That’s what takes you 45 minutes every morning?”

“Don’t talk about crap you don’t know, Jackson. It’s hard to make myself pretty.”

“I think you’re beautiful without the makeup. Like right when I wake up, and youre next to me, sleeping. It makes me happy.”

“Well, thanks, baby, but I think I’d scare the kids with the bags and dark circles under my eyes.” I laugh.

“You don’t scare me. So what kind of sex do you guys talk about?”

“We compare, talk about positions, new things we try in the bedroom, and stuff like that.” I laugh.

“Do you guys have naked pillow fights?” Jax laughs.

“Oh yeah baby, especially when you’re gone.”

“Damn. Maybe one of these days I should stick around.”

“Hmmm I don’t know. I quite enjoy my naked pillow fights with my girlfriends.”

“Lylas a porn star, she does girl on girl. Bet she’d be fun to have a pillow fight with.” Jax laughs, pulling me closer to him once we are out of the car.

“How do you know that she would? Maybe she and OPie have naked pillow fights.”

“Well, I’m sure Opie wouldn’t mind you having a naked pillow fight with his extremely hot girlfriend.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a pillow fight with Opies extremely hot girlfriend either.” I laugh at the shocked expression on Jax’s face. “I always did want to experiment with girls. Never got the chance seeing as how I had Sophia, didn’t get the real college experimentation.”

“Oh, baby, we can make it happen.” Jax sighs, adjusting himself in his pants.

“Really?!”

“The thought of you with another girl turns me on.”

“Then maybe I should call Kelsey. She swings both ways. I bet she’d love to have a naked pillow fight.”

“Threesome?”

“I’m sure we could work something out.” I laugh.

“Eeeeeeehehhehhehheheeeeeee” Jax squeals like a child.

“Don’t get too excited, she hasn’t said yes. Plus who knows if she’d wanna participate with you there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t know if she’d be down for a threesome. She tends to swing more on the female side.”

“I know a girl.” Jax says, thinking about it.

“Oh god, who? Is she pretty?”

“She is pretty, but not my type. She is definitely not into men.”

“Wait. Are you wanting to watch me have sex with a girl? Not a threesome?” I ask, confused.

“Baby I’m up for whatever but watching you with another chick would be hot as fuck.” Jax responds.

“You really are a perv.” I laugh.

“So you don’t want to?” Jax asks, disappointment evident.

“I never said that.” I laugh, walking away from him and into the house.

“Hey Gem!” I smile, walking into the kitchen.

“Hey, baby, did y’all like the house?” Gemma asks, stirring the food on the stove.

“Loved it! Actually we decided to buy it.” I smiles.

“That’s awesome baby!” Gemma smiles, taking a moment to pull me into a hug.

“Jax and I have some new to tell you.”

“What’s that?” Gemma asks, going back to stirring the food.

“We are engaged!” Jax exclaims.

“What!?” Gemma yells, turning around to look at us, huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, happened this morning. We wanted to tell you before we told everyone else.”

“I’m so happy for you guys! Y’all are going to make the best husband and wife. JT and your daddy called it, Ari. I used to tell them that Ari wouldn’t get mixed up with the likes of you but I was wrong and gladly so.”

“My daddy always did know what was best for me, whether I wanted to admit it or not. But if I remember correctly he hated Jax. When did he say that?”

“The day he died. Said if his daughter was gonna be with any club member, it should be his best friends son. He also wanted me to give you something.” Gemma said, walking over to a locked cabinet and pulling out a small box. “He bought it for your mother, but then she started using again. Said if anything happened to him, he wanted whoever was asking you to marry them to have it to ask you with. It was your grandmothers ring. I would have given it to Jackson if he told me anything about asking you.”

“I didn’t know it was gonna happen, Ma.” He says, and looks down at the ring in the box.

“I kind of asked him in a way. We were talking about me making Abel officially mine and marriage came up and it just happened.”

“Your grandma had great taste, babe.” Jax says, picking the ring up out of the box and grabbing my hand before getting .

“Jax, are you-” He cut me off.

“Ariana Elizabeth Wilson will you make the happiest biker in the whole world and marry me?”

“Of course, baby!” I scream, pulling him up for a kiss.

“Mommy! Why are you screaming in the house, that’s for outside.” Sophia says, coming into the kitchen with Clay trailing behind her, trying to catch his breath.

“Daddy and mommy are getting married!” Jax yells, swinging Sophia up and into a hug.

“Like Tommy and I did?” Sophia asks.

“Kind of, but more official.” Jax responds.

“Tommy and I are official daddy.”

“Nope, it’s not on paper.” Jax says

“I write his last name on my papers daddy. It’s official.”

“You do? Is it gonna be official forever?”

“Yep! My name is Sophia Alvarez now.” She mispronounces Alvarez. “I can’t quite say his last name yet though.”

“Jax isn’t that adorable!” I squeal.

“I don’t like it. He better not hurt you.”

“Daddy we are 6. He isn’t going to hurt me. We play on the playground together and he always lets me play with him and his friends.”

“Okay, baby.” I smile, pinching Jax’s side to make him stay quiet. “Right, Jax?”

“Yeah.” He sighs.

“Can I be the flower girl?” Sophia asks.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way baby.” Jax replies kissing her forehead.

“What about Abel?” Sophia asks.

“He’s going to carry the rings.” I reply.

“Can I hold his hand?”

“Yep!” Jax smiles. “Alright you go play with Kenny, Ellie, and Lylas son.”

“Okay, Daddy! Mommy your ring is pretty.” She smiles, running off to play with the other kids.

“Y’all are gettin’ hitched?” Clay asks, walking over to us.

“Yep, as of this morning.”

“About damn time, son.” Clay laughs, slapping Jax on the back before pulling him in for a hug.

“Did you know my dad, Clay?”

“Sure did. Not for as long as Gemma or JT though. We were both part of the original 9 but I didn’t grow up with him like Gemma and JT. But I do know he’d be happy as hell right now. Him and JT used to joke about you two all the time, once you got older though of course.”

“So I’ve heard.” I smile, hugging him. “Will you tell me about him? From what you remember? I only got the dad side of him not the person side. I wanna know who he was.”

“Anything and everything.”

“Thanks, Clay.” I smile, hugging him again.

“Dinner is finished.” Gemma says, breaking some of the sadness in the room. “Ari, you and Jax go set the table.”

“Sure thing, Gem.” I smile, pulling Jax out of the room with me. I start putting the plates out on the table while Jax goes behind me with silverware.

“This is so domestic.” Jax laugh, reaching out for me once the silverware are on the table.

“Who knows, maybe one day we will be hosting Sunday dinner at our house.” I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck, the ring catching the light causing me to smile. He picks me up by the back of my thighs, pulling me into a kiss.

“I hope we do.” Jax murmurs against my lips, hugging my body tighter to him, I wrap my legs around his hips.

“I’m sure we will.”

“Hey! Break it up in here!” Bobby yell, coming into the room.

“Bro, I’m allowed to kiss my fiancé if I want to.” Jax laughs, shoving his face in my neck making me giggle.

“Fiancé?” Bobby asks, smile spreading across his face.

“Yep! It happened kind of fast this morning but we decided to get married.” I smile, still clinging to Jax. “Put me down.”

“I don’t wanna.” Jax whines. I laugh when he puts me down.

“I’m happy for ya Jackie boy! You too lass.” Chibs says, pulling us both into a hug, followed by Bobby, Tig, Juice, Happy, Kozik, and Opie.

“I’m happy for ya brother.” Opie says, reaching out to shake his hand. Jax smacks his hand and pulls him into a hug instead.

“Thanks, brother.” Jax says.

“This is so exciting!” Lyla squeals, wrapping her arms around.

“I’m so excited!” I exclaim, hugging her just as tight.

“I think this calls for the good stuff!” Clay says, walking into the room carrying shot glasses and a bottle of bourbon. He sets them on the table before heading back to get the rest of the shot glasses and grabbing Gemma.

“To the happy couple!” Clay exclaims, raising his shot glass and clinking it with the rest.

“I’m so happy for you guys, baby.” Gemma smiles taking her shot. “Now, who’s hungry? Party at the clubhouse to celebrate after dinner?” Gemma suggests.

“Hell yeah!” Everyone exclaims.

“I say we take shots!” Lyla yells over the music.

“I shouldn’t. The last time I drank, Jax and I fought. I don’t want a repeat.”

“We are celebrating. I’m sure Jax won’t mind. Why don’t we ask him? He’s taking shots right now.” Lyla says, pointing over my shoulder.

“Well, fuck. Let’s get Gemma and get some shots going!” I exclaim.

“YESSS!” Lyla exclaims running off while I make my way over to Jax.

“Hey, baby. We going to crash here tonight? Phil offered to stay with the kids all night.” I say, as he pulls me in between his legs.

“Hell yeah! Take some shots with us?” He asks, brushing my hair out of my face.

“Actually, I’m going to do shots with Gemma and Lyla.”

“Take one with us first, right guys?” Jax asks, looking toward the guys.

“Fuck yeah!” The guys yell, Half Sac pouring the shots.

“To Ari and Jax!” Chibs yells, clinking his glass with ours before we all down the shots.

“Let’s smoke a J.” Jax laughs, standing up and dragging me with him.

“I’ll be back in a few!” I yell to Lyla as I pass her and Gemma. “Jax wants to smoke.”

“I’m having a hard time.” Jax whines, trying to roll the joint.

“Let me do it.” I laugh, taking over. “Here, you can light it.”

“I love you. You’re the bestest.” He says, reaching out to put his hand on my thigh.

“How many shots did you take?”

“I lost count, but this is where you say I love you too.”

“I love you too, Jax.” I laugh, taking a hit.

“Hey, Ari, guess what.”

“What baby?” I ask, smiling at him.

“You’re my favoritest person in the whole entire world.”

“And you are mine, drunky.” I laugh, puffing on the joint.

“I’m not drunky, but I think you’re really really pretty. If you weren’t engaged, I’d totally bang you.”

“I’m engaged… to you, silly.”

“No way! I get to bang you later?!”

“Hell yeah, baby.” I giggle, the weed making me laugh more than necessary.

“Let’s go back to our friends before they get drunk without us.” Jax says, taking the last hit of the joint and putting it out.

“Lead the way, baby.” I smile, smacking his ass for once.

“Hey, I’m an engaged man.”

“I know and that ass is all mine.” I giggle.

“Really?! Because later, I’m gonna totally bang you.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“You’re so pretty, and I love you. Am I allowed to say that, you’re engaged.”

“I love you too. Now, go back to your boys while I go hang with the girls.”

“Okay!” He runs over to the guys. “Guess what guys, I’m engaged to the prettiest girl ever!”

“He is gone!” I laugh, joining Gemma and Lyla at table, pouring myself a shot before downing it.

“Beyond gone, sweetheart.” Gemma says.

“Let’s join him in oblivion!” I laugh, pouring us all shots.

“Aye.” They yell, downing their shots.

“So, did y’all try that position I told ya about?” Lyla asks.

“No, we had a quicky the other day, but nothing much since then. What if our sexual life is dull?”

“Oh it’s for sure not, Gemma told me about the clubhouse fiasco.”

“That was only because he pissed me off. I never meant to lose the key. But, we have been talking about a threesome.” I laugh, taking another shot. The weed making me more open and the booze starting to hit.

“Jax agreed to a threesome?” Lyla asks. “He got mad at Rat for looking at you for too long the other day.”

“With another girl. But if I had my choice it would be with him and Juice. Juice is hot.”

“I know right. Something about a Mohawk and head tats just gets me sometimes.” Lyla says, Juice walking by, stops and smirks.

“Why thanks ladies! Appreciate the complements.” Juice laugh, pecking me on the head.

“What I was getting at was, there is no way a threesome would work, if Jax won’t let one guy stare at you, how's he gonna react to you having sex with someone else? Female or otherwise.” Lyla finishes once Juice walks away.

“He apparently finds the idea of me with another girl hot. I joked about you and I having a naked pillow fight and he nearly lost it.” I laugh.

“Jax has always been into girl on girl.” Gemma laughs, pouring us all more shots.

“I got that. I just don’t know how I feel about the whole thing. Like don’t get me wrong, I love Kelsey, but what if things happen? What if she’s a better fuck? I mean she’s smaller, and not as chubby, and has these fake DDs, so Jax might be more into that.

“Now that’s just crazy talk. That boy is crazy about you.” Gemma says, pouring me another shot.

“Gemma, think about it. How many times have I ever actually been WANTED like that, by a guy, that wasn’t Jax. A part of me feels like he’s only doing this because of Sophia.”

“Hey, you know Jax wants you, hell, he tells you everyday. Even if Sophia wasn’t in the picture, that boy would still be crazy about you.” Gemma smiles. “You need more shots, and we need to talk about something else.”

“Agreed!” I laugh, taking the offered shot.

“So, threesome. Have you ever been with a girl?”

“Nope. I didn’t get the chance to experiment in college since I had Soph.” I giggle, pouring us all another shot.

“Well if you need some pointers I’m down to help. I do girl on girl porn.” Lyla laughs, taking another shot.

“Yes! That would be so helpful!” I exclaim.

“What would baby?” Jax asks, stumbling over to us, joint in one hand, and a bottle of tequila in the other hand.

“Give me a hit.” I respond, puffing on the joint he put to my mouth. “Lyla is going to give me some tips for being with a girl.”

“Ohhhhh like the threesome!” Jax laugh, making me stand up and then sliding into the chair and pulling me back on his lap.

“Yep.” I reply popping the P, snuggling into him.

“And what kind of tips are you giving, Lyla?” Jax asks, smirk on his face.

“None yet, you walked over here before I could.”

“Jax, go back with guys so we can have some girl time.” Gemma says, pouring more shots.

“Noooooooooo!” Jax whines. “I wanna be with Ari.” Jax says, nuzzling my neck.

“Jax. We wanna have girl talk.” I laugh, reaching back and wrapping my fingers in his hair.

“You had time to girl talk. You can girl talk tomorrow when you get your nails done. Right now I wanna be with the prettiest girls my eyes have ever seen.”

“Oh smooth!” I laugh, Gemma and Lyla joining.

“Fine but you have to do shots with us.” Lyla laughs, pouring him another shot.

“And share that joint.” Gemma adds.

“For sure. Hey! Half Sac! Roll us another couple joints!” Jax yells over his shoulder.

“He’s not prospecting anymore Jax, you do it.”

“Yeah but he’s the best joint roller here. Even better than Juice, and Juice owns a fucking dispensary.”

“Juicey!!!!!!” I shout over Jax’s shoulder. “Jax is talking shit about how you can’t roll!”

“Hey, you little shit! Your wife thinks I’m hot!” Juice yells back.

“I do though.”

“I feel so betrayed.” Jax laugh, putting his hand over his chest.

“I’d bang him.”

“I’d bang him too, right Juicey?” Jax yells, laughing his ass off, the weed obviously in full effect.

“Threesome!” Juice yells back.

“FUCK YES!” I yell.

“We could do it right now!” Jax says, shouting a little bit louder than needed.

“You are so drunk!” I laugh, taking another shot.

“Bedroom?” Jax asks.

“Nah baby, let’s keep drinking. Juicey! Come join us, bring the joints.”

“Coming!” Juice yells, grabbing the joints and a bottle of bourbon and making his way over to us. Squeezing in between Jax, Lyla, and I.

“Light ‘em up!” I squeal, moving off of Jax’s lap and into Lylas. “We will share a joint.” I laugh, putting my arms around Lyla, while she wraps hers around me.

“Hey! Don’t leave me!” Jax exclaims.

“Here ya go.” Juice smiles, handing me the joint.

“What’s goin’ on over here?” Opie asks, walking over to Lyla and I.

“We are cuddling and sharing a joint, Ope.” Lyla laughs, snuggling closer.

“Ope, you can have my seat, I’m going to go find Clay.” Gemma says, standing up.

“Noooo! Don’t leave us Gem!” I yell, reaching out to her.

“I’ll be back, baby.” Gemma laughs.

“Fine!” I pout, cuddling more into Lyla.

“Ya know, I wanted to cuddle you, but watching you and Lyla cuddle is way hotter.” Jax laughs, fist bumping with Opie. “We both have got Old Ladies.”

“You really are drunk, Jax. Why don’t you two cuddle, Jax can be the bottom.”

“Nah, I think we will just watch you two.” Jax laughs.

“Come on Jax, get in on the cuddle action. Cuddle Juice, he’s always warm. Sophia fell asleep on him once, and when she woke up she asked where the warmth went.”

“I can vouch for that.” Lyla says. “That’s why he gives the best hugs.”

“Wait, you cuddled Juice?” Opie asks, laughing.

“I also cuddled with the prospect once, Ope. I can only do so much when you’re gone.” Lyla says.

“Rude!” Opie yells.

“Truth!” Lyla yells back

“Not in my ear!” I yell back at her.

“You are a child sometimes.” Lyla says.

“Takes one to know one.” I say back to her in a sing-song voice, wiggling around, trying to get comfortable.

“Hey, stop wiggling.” Lyla laughs.

“You love it!” I laugh.

“I think Jax does too.” Lyla whispers and laughs.

“He for sure does. He likes me wiggling on you.”

“I bet he’d hate it if you wiggled your ass on Juice.”

“Whatcha girls talking about over there?” Jax asks.

“Nothing!” I giggle.

“I feel left out of all the cuddle action.” Juice says.

“I’ll cuddle you!” I say, moving off Lylas lap and onto Juices, Lyla moving to Opie.

“Cuddle train!” Juice says, once I sit down.

“Yes!!!” I laugh, taking a drag of the joint Juice offers me.

“Now I feel left out.” Jax whines, taking a drag of the joint before pouring us all shots.

“We should move to the couches! Then I can cuddle both of you!” I yell, jumping off of Juice and pulling Jax up.

“Yes!” Jax yells, throwing me over his shoulder and running toward the couches.

“Don’t drop me!” I yell, reaching down and smacking his ass.

“I won’t! Guys, can we have the couch?” Jax asks Chibs, Tig, and Bobby.

“Sure thing, VP.” Tig laughs, pushing the croweater off of his lap.

“Thank, guys!” I laugh, Jax dropping me on the couch, plopping down next to me, Juice dropping into the spot on the other side of me.

“Pass the joint.” I laugh, holding my hand out.

“Here ya go, doll.” Juice smiles, passing it to me. I take a puff before passing it onto Jax.

“Thanks, darlin’.” Jax smiles, taking a puff and passing it on to Opie who is sitting with Lyla in the chair beside us. Jax wraps his arm around me, pulling me into his side.

“Juice, scoot closer, get in on this cuddle action!” I squeal, reaching my arms out for him.

“Okay!” Juice laughs, cuddling himself into me.

“Guys! I’m a J sandwich. Jax, Juice. Or Juan, whichever.” I laugh.

“You are!” Jax laughs.

“Lyla was right, Juice is warm!” I say, leaning more into him.

“Hey! Don’t leave me. I’m warm too!” Jax pouts.

“Fine we just have to get closer.” I pull Juice even closer to me and cuddle further into Jax.

“I love you guys!” Jax exclaims, nuzzling his face into my neck, leaving small bites.

“Jax! Stop biting me.” I laugh.

“No! You said that we are engaged, I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Okay, but don’t bite too hard.” I laugh, exposing my neck to him.

“I love you, Ari.” Jax mumbles, resting his forehead on my shoulder and falling asleep.

“I love you too, Jaxy.” I respond, reaching back to wrap my fingers in his hair, rubbing his scalp lightly.

“Is he asleep?” Opie asks.

“Yep, he’s drooling on me, can you guys help me get him to bed?”

“Yeah sure thing, Ari.” Juice responds, pulling away from me and standing up.

“Thanks guys.” I say, standing up.

“Jax, come on man, let’s get you to bed.” Opie says, pushing on his shoulder.

“No!” Jax whines. Opie grabs his arms, pulling.

“Ari’s going to bed. Don’t you want to be with your fiancé?” Opie asks.

“Yes! I want to bang my fiancé!” Jax laughs, letting Opie pull him up.

“Then let’s get you to bed.” Juice says, putting one of Jax’s arms over his shoulder, Opie doing the same.

“Weeeeee!” Jax yells, falling face first on the bed.

“He is SO gone! He’s gonna have a massive headache tomorrow. That’s not gonna swing with the amount of energy Sophia has.” I say to Opie and Juice as they leave the room laughing. I start getting myself ready for bed before tugging off Jax’s shoes and jeans

“Let’s have sex!” Jax squeals, pulling me closer to him.

“Not when you’re shitfaced.”

“Baby that’s when it’s best.” Jax slurs.

“You need sleep, you’re going to be chasing around a 6 year old all day tomorrow.”

“I need my fiancé.” Jax says, moving to take off his boxers, succeeding.

“You gonna take your shirt off too? It’d be kind of awkward if you didn’t, seeing as you’re naked otherwise.”

“Yes!” Jax laughs, pulling the shirt over his head.

“Baby, you aren’t hard.” I laugh.

“Give it a minute. Come here!” Jax laughs, pulling me to him and kissing me.

“Jax!” I moan, pulling him closer to me.

“Ari! I really want to bang you, but I don't want to hurt you.”

“Baby, you aren’t even hard. I don’t think it’s going to happen tonight.” I say, brushing my hand over his still flaccid cock.

“Fuck! Buddy why are you deceiving me!” He yells, looking at his penis.

“Probably because you had too much to drink and smoke. Now put your boxers back on, and we can fuck in the morning.”

“This never happens!” Jax whines.

“You did come quick that one time.”

“Shut up! I never even got to make that up to you.” Jax whines, running his hands over my ass.

“We have the rest of our lives baby. Now get some sleep.”

“But-“

“Sleep, Jax!” I laugh, pulling him into me on the bed.

“Fine!” Jax sighs. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Taglist: @gemini0410 @lookprettyliveclassyplaydirtyyt @spnhollis @melissataggart87 @jaxteller87 @stylesismyhubs @hismissharley13 @rahdaleigh @chrmdnbeautiful @innerpaperexpertcloud @emmaveale123

#Jax Teller #jax x oc #opie winston #happy soa #SOA chibs #soa gemma #soa #bobby soa #tig trager #juice ortiz #Clay Morrow #gemma teller #sons of anarchy #Lyla winston

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tastesoftamriel · 6 years

Text

A personal statement from Tal (long read)

Hello everyone, I'd like to apologise for the outburst from earlier, I'm very stressed about the rent situation and I'm trying to take it in stride but it's very difficult. I'm trying to push through the brain fog to write this so I hope it comes off as somewhat coherent. First off I'd like to thank all of you generous folk for reblog going and/or donating to me, it is immensely helpful and even though I'm a few £ short, I should hopefully be able to stall the rental company from an eviction for a few days (I hope).

I would like to establish that I am not threatening suicide as a plea or pity party to extort money from all of my kind, wonderful, generous followers (HI THAT'S YOU). I am currently going through a serious hell phase where uni has once again begun, I'm in second year and spend all my time studying and have had to pay exorbitant amounts for textbooks because the library didn't have enough in stock. Both my fiancé and I have to pay for international student fees for university, which I will not disclose here but let's just say this is basically why covering rent is an absolute nightmare.

If you're wondering, I have been seeking out help for my rapidly deteriorating mental health since the beginning of August when I got back from summer break. Due to the ridiculous nature of the NHS, I finally had a breakthrough and the mental health crisis team finally got back to me yesterday night, only to tell me they'll review my medication and see me in person in up to 28 days. At this stage, I am unable to afford a private psychiatrist and am doing my absolute best to hang in there, do my studies, run this blog, and try and be functional.

I don't disclose much about myself here as I think Tastes of Tamriel should be a safe, fun, and welcoming space where people come to escape. Talviel is my wholesome alter ego whom I created both to gloss over my permanent hell state of a life and to be the embassador to bring Tamriel to all of you. I absolutely HATE grovelling for money unless I'm desperate and believe me if I were neurotypical enough to be able to have a job in conjunction with my full time studies, I would. But mental health is an issue that gets taken out of context so often I don't even know where to begin. I have been institutionalised twice over the course of 2015-2016, both times for attempted suicide. I was treated so poorly in hospital I vowed to get better and never go back. Of course, with mental health issues, especially as severe as. Mine, there is no real "getting better", but I've managed up until now to keep smiling, to keep busy, to do what I love and bring a little brightness to your day.

In early 2017 I started Tastes of Tamriel as a diversion to keep myself busy and never expected that people would genuinely like my work and follow my blog. I love cooking, TES, and being creative, and this blog has legitimately been helping me pull through every day since I first started it. I love getting your comments, feedback, and messages. I love getting to know you and making friends. I love seeing your pictures when you make my recipes. This blog has brought me back from the brink so many times and it's tanks to all of YOU that somehow I am still here, kicking on as best I can

But I'm legitimately scared I might end up having to if things continue the way they do. I have been officially diagnosed with Bipolar II, GAD, and more recently, PTSD. I diligently takr my medication and do mindfulness exercises that my therapist has recommended daily. Yet its still jot enough. The mental health system in the UK is failing people like me and all over the nation when we're just trying to do our best.

Tastes of Tamriel always is and always will be run by me, and is completely non-profit. Every penny donated helps me to do day-to-day things like buy food to create new recipes, keep a roof over my head, and keep me in school. My Ko-Fi link is in the blog description and it is completely up to you to decide if you'd like to donate, but I would greatly appreciate if you did, no matter the amount!

Thank you all for the well wishes and donations, you have no idea how much it means to me i this time of struggle. Also once again sorry if this is incoherent rambling, I'm mostly hoping my phones autocorrect helps my spelling because my hands are shaking too much lately.

Big love and thank you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to believe Iin me and supporting my blog. ~Tal

#thank you #long read #mental illness #suicide

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bucky-bear-barnes · 6 years

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Left At The Altar - Part 2? (Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader)

Title: Left At The Altar (Part 2?)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader

Genre: Angst?

Summary: Bucky’s presence in the Avenger’s tower is required by government officials. How would the poor ex bride-to-be handle it? How would the anger-filled Steve react?

So, the feedback has been overwhelming and I have written the second part! More feedback would really fuel me to continue writing and I look forward to sharing and discussing where the story could be headed towards!

MASTERLIST

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

It wasn’t easy trying to get over being deserted on your wedding day and (Y/N) was coping the best she could. For the first month, the bride-to-be refused to step into the newly decorated apartment Tony Stark has gifted herself and Bucky. The apartment had walls decorated with photos of her and her runaway fiancé, the closet filled with cleanly washed clothes belonging to the couple and every little corner held memories that felt like stabs to her heart.

Tony was more than happy to offer the girl her old room back at the compound after the incident. (Y/N) tried her very best to not be the cause of worry for the world’s mightiest heroes and would force a smile in the little times she left her room.

The captain, although an excellent team leader and planner, was quite lacking in the department of consoling people. For the first week, he paced around in front of (Y/N)’s room, thinking if it was appropriate for him to enter. Little did he know, (Y/N) always knew he was out there. The shadow his figure has cast was visible from the tiny slit below her door. (Y/N) wanted to let Steve know she was alright, that he shouldn’t worry about her but couldn’t bring herself to, or she would break down in front of him yet again. So the girl kept her eyes at the shadow beneath her door, the sight offering her a sort of comfort she craved.

Two weeks in was when (Y/N) invited the pacing soldier in. They built blanket forts, had Disney marathons and laid beside each other during the long nights with sleep evading them both. The smile on (Y/N)’s face was small, her eyes still held deep sadness but it was a smile nonetheless, a smile Steve has dearly missed.

A month was what it took for (Y/N) to request to resume working as Pepper’s assistant. She needed to feel wanted and important and her job was what would give her that. As Pepper’s assistant, and a good one at that, it did not escape (Y/N) knowledge that her boss and her nosy husband was trying to locate her runaway groom. The girl steers clear of any information containing any details of Bucky like a plague, not wanting to face something she isn’t ready for yet.

Six months, coupled with the care, concern, and laughter of her Avenger friends and the comforting presence of a certain Steve Rogers was what it took for her to smile genuinely again. She joined movie nights, was more than happy to go shopping with Natasha and Wanda and found joy in volunteering at the animal shelter with Steve. Slowly, she started to realize that if she wasn’t what Bucky was looking for, their marriage would have ended up in shambles even if he didn’t leave her at the altar - she was coming to an understanding, an acceptance.

Steve was not one to forget as easily as (Y/N) is, neither is any of the Avengers. Bucky was like a phantom that did not want to be found. That is until they noticed a certain lab technician’s resignation straight after the fateful wedding day. Natasha caught on with it the very moment her eyes picked up on the information and started tracking her instead.

In no time, Bucky was found. The super soldier was living in the lab technician’s rented apartment in a relatively quiet area of Brooklyn. Finding out this information almost sent Natasha and Wanda into a frenzy and was only stopped when they saw the look in Steve’s eyes. From the look in his eyes, the two Avengers could tell this was not their battle to fight - Steve was not going to let Bucky get away with this.

On the very same day, the government officials have gotten ahold of the very information Natasha has attained earlier. An emergency meeting was called with Steve and Tony as Avenger’s representative. The officials were not happy that The Winter Soldier was out and about in Brooklyn and was not secured in the Avengers facility as agreed upon.

A frustrated Steve Rogers and Tony Stark stalked out of the conference room and was met with the entire team sitting in the common room waiting for news.

“I’m sorry (Y/N). We’ve got to bring Barnes back here. Or the Avengers can officially retire this time.” Tony said with a tone of distaste.

Silence blanketed the room until Wanda let out a cry of disagreement and the group yelled out their displeasure following which.

“This is bullshit! How could they?!”

“Do they know what that shit head Barnes did?! Do they?!”

“For God’s sake, how many times are they going to use the stupid retirement threat?!”

The noises of dissent flooded the common room until they heard a little murmur.

“Yeah, okay.” said (Y/N), a sort of tired acceptance painting her features.

The room fell into silence once again. Steve made his way to the couch she was sitting on and enveloped her in a hug, allowing her to bury her face into his neck as she slowly wrapped her arms around his waist.

The team sent Vision to go inform Bucky about the news of his need to return. The android would not act out based on his emotions and this could not be guaranteed if anyone else on the team was engaged in this godforsaken task.

A day before Bucky was set to return, (Y/N) called for a meeting in the common room. Decked in Steve’s sweater she’d stole when she was doing laundry, a pair of black yoga pants, the girl settled herself on a lover’s couch as she waited for the group to pile in. Steve was just about to claim the seat beside her when Natasha and Wanda stole it, curling their arms with (Y/N)’s, as they cuddled together. Natasha threw Steve a smirk and Wanda topped it off with a wink, much to the captain’s frustration.

“Okay, now that everyone is here. My announcement is really simple. When Buc- James comes back tomorrow, no one is to throw him dirty looks, snide comments or give him a hard time about what has happened alright?” she said, a look of seriousness etched on her face.

Her announcement was met with choruses of disdain and no doubt Tony was the loudest.

Quietening the heroes down with a loud clap, she continued, “This is about James and I. And I’ve come to understand that what he needs is not me. His actions may have been despicable, to say the least, but what is done is done. I’ll never be the same (Y/N) and we will never be the same couple again. He’s found what he needed. What I am not, and will never be.”

Seeing the look of astonishment on their faces, she explained, “Yes, I know that everyone in the tower except for Vision and I have been actively looking for James. And I also know that he’s staying with the lab technician.”

“I can’t say I’m okay with him or that I’ll ever really be okay with him. And I’m not giving up my job or my loved ones, well you lot, just because he’s moving back in with her. What I would truly appreciate, is if everyone could at least be civil with the man. I don’t usually ask for much, so please, for me?” she pleaded, her eyes rimmed red.

“Yeah doll, anything you need, Anything at all.” was Steve’s reply.

The lift stopped at common room level as Bucky stepped out looking wary of what was to greet him. Behind him was a girl the Avengers recognized as Jenny the lab tech.

Vision and Clint were the only two people that were present in the common room as Bucky came in. Clint gave the man a half-hearted greeting and a light shake of hand as he stalked off, leaving Vision to tend to the soldier.

A passing Tony threw a look at Bucky and the girl beside him and said, “(Y/N) said we ought to be civil with you. But I was never one to follow instructions. So don’t expect me to welcome you with open arms. Your room is right next to your old one with (Y/N). She’s staying in that one now so its off-limits to you as per instructed to FRIDAY. I’m shifting you and your little lab tech to the furthest possible room once renovations are done. Also, that lab tech is no longer on Stark’s payroll. Pepper’s decision. I’m only letting her into my building because (Y/N) the sweetest and most naive girl I’ve ever met and she insisted.”

Tony threw the pair the dirtiest look he could muster and made his way back to his lab.

Just as Bucky and his plus one were about to open the door to their room, (Y/N)’s room door swung open. Bucky’s heartbeat became erratic as he braced himself to face the girl.

And much to his surprise, he was met with a messy hair Steve decked out in his loungewear. Their eyes met; Steve’s was one of betrayal and anger and Bucky’s held guilt and confusion.

Why is Steve coming out of (Y/N)’s room? What is going on?

Just as Bucky was about to voice out his question, his ears picked up a familiar soft voice.

“Steve! The movie is starting and I need you as my space heater! Hurry up!”

It was an odd moment for the two super soldiers.

Steve felt a sense of pride and glee.

And Bucky?

Bucky felt a tiny nick in his chest. And what he did not know, was that this tiny nick was the start of his crumbling heart.

Tagging: @itsanerdlife @buckysmusculararm @klaus-is-king @katbird787 @dryerpet @captainfbffangirl99 @thatawkwardtinyperson @cassandras-musings @cleverwatson125 @universal-glitch @draconicuchiha @frickin-bats @smile-sugar @ryverpenrad @buckyywiththegoodhair @buckyappreciationsociety @17marvelousfreak @seeyainanothalifebrotha @winchesterandpie @northscorpio @winter-is-ending @feelmyroarrrr @marvelouslyloki @melconnor2007 @fab-notfat @musichowler @iamwarrenspeace @ssweet-empowerment @geeksareunique

Left At The Altar Tags: @orions-nebula @debzybrazy @jeleners143 @carolshiguti-blog @lovely-geek @vougebandit @38leticia @i-love-superhero @srirachasluts @allyp1023 @chipilerendi @hellkat2 @vivianbabz @photography-to-all @jimesu

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mysticdragon3md3 · 3 years

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We Rent Tsukumogami ep1

In the middle of checking out a new series. I like yokai anime, I've been trying to decide which yokai is my favorite, and I've been considering tsukumogami. So this seemed like a nice fit.

Kind of weird how the tsukumogami won't talk directly with the main human characters. And while them tricking each other into exchanging information is kind of interesting, it leads to a lot of weird scenes where they're just listening to each other from different rooms and pretending not to hear each other. It's odd. Especially if this series is setting up to be a "mystery" like this first episode, where you need multiple scenes of characters sharing information, comparing accounts, and coming up with interpretations and ideas.

1:33 PM 5/26/2021

Well, that didn't go the way I was expecting. I thought that maybe Katsusaburo found out about his fiancé's sweetheart and didn't want to force her into the arranged marriage, so maybe he arranged the netsuke "theft" so that his father-in-law-to-be would be insulted that Katsusaburo couldn't hold onto that keepsake and then cancel the wedding. And maybe even Katsusaburo's big brother was actually Sanae's sweetheart! But turns out, the episode's "happy ending" includes going forward with the arranged marrage and Sana's sweetheart remains some unnamed guy. There's just an off-hand line about Sanae's sweetheart being married off to someone else too, and that's treated as an inevitability. Then the protagonist Seiji goes on to give Katsusaburo marriage advice, the story assuming that Katsusaburo's and Sanae's arranged marriage is also an inevitability. Turns out Katsusaburo just *didn't feel* like putting effort into holding onto the netsuke when his brother tried to take it, in the same way that he "didn't feel like" holding onto the marriage _because_ his marrying into a richer family made his older brother jealous and he didn't want to strain his sibling relationship anymore. Apparently, Katsusaburo has always been insecure about his older brother always looking down on him, and is motivated by not wanting their relationship to be strained anymore. (Which, actually seems like pretty blatant insecurity on his brother's part, feeling intimidated by any "rival" to his superiority and always looking down on his little brother his whole life.) Katsusaburo wasn't trying to make a big show of "losing" the netsuke to insult his father-in-law-to-be into cancelling the marriage. He was just covering up for his brother trying to "harass" him by stealing the netsuko. So Katsusaburo told his father-in-law-to-be that the netsuko marriage gift was simply lost, instead of stolen, to save his brother from repercussions. Wow, I guess I thought there would be more intrigue, and that all the presented elements would be more involved into the plot. But the fact that Sanae already had a sweetheart was just a red herring. I thought at the very least, that Katsusaburo noticed that his fiancé was reluctant about the arranged marriage, and out of _care for her_ he was trying to set up a reason to cancel the marriage. But no! It's not even that! It was totally just the brother thing! O_o

I dunno. Maybe it only seems like a weak plot because I'm a modern American. So my focus isn't on the strained sibling relationship (even though in real life, my sibling relationships are my most cherished), but instead on reading into the story, the usual romance genre tropes I'm accustomed to. That's why I was so focused on the arranged marriage and how the couple feels about each other, as their motivations. That's usually how things go in the romance genre. And with this episode presented as a story centered about this arranged marriage, I thought that was what this story was about. o_o? Still, the marriage turned out to also be the underlying inciting incident to the real conflict going on in this episode (that being the strained relationship between Katsusaburo and his brother). was it too much for me to presume that the marriage would be the focus? Or that the relationship between the couple at the center of the inciting incident would be the focus? Would this presumed focus on the sibling relationship have been a natural given to someone with an old Edo perspective?

Pretty animation. Though not too much animation, where there probably should have been more. Like, that whole scene with the bat netsuke finding the mouse netsuke in the red light district, totally skipped when they met and even explanatory dialogue between them. So, I was just left wondering what happened. But still, all the characters seemed on-model, the backgrounds were nice, the vibrant colors really carried the aesthetics without being obnoxious, no oddly animated movements, and everything just looked anime-level pretty. It wasn't like Persona 5 the Animation; that's my benchmark for whether animation quality is good or bad now. And now whenever I find an unknown series with satisfactory animation that's never P5A-ugly, I ask, "Why couldn't the Persona 5 anime have been like that!!!!?!!?????!!" Anyway, these tsukumogami are cute. ^_^

One thing that bothers me is the deuteragonists' relationship. They interact fine. But at one point, the whole scene becomes centered about the big sister wanting to be complimented by her littler brother. She gets angry when he doesn't think to compliment her hairpin. She wants him to notice her "feminine beauty". Then the episode later comes back to that, _several_ times. The tsukumogami in the shop make fun of Seiji for not having the "guts" to compliment her feminine charms. Seiji flinches, showing that he regrets that as a blunder. The advice Seiji gives to Katsusaburo at the end, is to compliment his fiancé's beauty (so to not repeat Seiji's mistake). And then the anime trope bomb: They're not "real" siblings by blood. That's often anime code for "this series is going to have an incest romance relationship". Ugh...I can't do this anymore. I was willing to give .Hack//Legend of the Twilight the benefit of the doubt. My brother told me he was uncomfortable with the siblings presented like a romantic pairing, and I told him he was reading-in things that weren't there. I told him, that's just normal people caring about each other as siblings. But then as the years passed, more and MORE series started giving hetero opposite-sex siblings all the tropes of romance genre couples. Not just characters caring about each other, but all the tropes, all the framing, all the direction, all the cliches that the _Romance_ genre uses to convey "this is the couple". And ugh...This is my cue to run away.

This series is nice enough. In fact, if it didn't so casually talk about prostitution and the red light district in the second half of the first episode, I would have even thought of this series as "family friendly". It keeps its presentation simple and even repeats plot points for easier comprehension, like a kid's show. And nothing traumatizingly dramatic happens, so it's a calm, soothing watch. Maybe it's even categorized as an iyashikei series. But the red herring, the completely misdirected plot in the mystery, the outdated values (I know it's the Edo era, but way to sideline Sanae's agency and reduce the female deteragonist to "one of my biggest concerns is what the man in my life thinks of me and whether he thinks I'm beautiful"), the possible warning flags of an incest romantic couple,... It's pretty and I like yokai, but next time, I'll follow my first instinct and watch Cells At Work instead.

2:25 PM 5/26/2021

https://youtu.be/jtce8c6PzGM

Oh! Turns out the official Japanese broadcasting network for this anime posted what looks like the entire series, English sub, onto YouTube for free. O.o I didn't have to deal with Crunchyroll's commercials. I mean, there YouTube posting has some commercials and banner ads, but YouTube doesn't crash on me, the way that Crunchyroll tends to, especially around commercial breaks.

#md3watches #reactions #md3 watches We Rent Tsukumogami

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hot-mysticc-mess-blog · 7 years

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One Day

Fluffy one-shot set between the 6th and 7th episodes of the 2nd secret ending because I wanted more MC involvement the entire time. Also includes my attempt at a brief animated text log

Rating: G

Words: 1,938

Pairing: Saeyoung x MC

“…I can’t let you see him when he’s still so unstable…”

Over the last two weeks, that phrase had practically become Saeyoung’s mantra. He apologized all the time for how long it had been since they had seen each other, called her several times a day whenever he got a spare moment. On a good day, he only sounded mildly anxious. On bad days she would speak soft reassurances while he listened desperately, breath hitching with barely-contained sobs. Today, he just sounded tired, very tired. Over the last week she had been listening to him become more and more worn down. He had poor sleeping habits to begin with, but he had never sounded this physically and emotionally finished. It was time to put her foot down.

“Saeyoung, let me help.”

“I can’t. He’s still unsta- “

“Yes, and that’s why you need help.” She cuts him off firmly, but does her best to keep her voice warm. He is frightened and in way over his head, trying to isolate himself again. It’s not on purpose this time, but she recognizes the pattern. “Text me a list of what you need, I’ll pick it up and leave it out front.”

MC clicks the disconnect button before Saeyoung can argue, following it up with a quick text to keep him from backing out. As much as she would like to see him, pushing for it too soon might be too much for both Saeyoung and Saeran.

Let me know what you need, I’ve got the rest of the day off! Love you ♥

The messenger lacks any sort of notification that the other user is typing, much to MC’s dismay. She stares at the screen for a good two minutes hoping for a confirmation before giving up and tapping the home button to check her email. The only things there were promotional emails from companies that needed to be cleared out (how did she even manage to subscribe herself to so many mailing lists?) but it satisfied a little bit of the mental itch left behind after the party. After ten days of checking her email come hell or high water, once even a bomb, she had yet to rid herself of the habit even if it was just her personal email and not the party coordinator’s official inbox.

Just when she thinks Saeyoung isn’t going to respond to her text, a reply pops up on her screen. She reads through the list carefully, getting the distinct impression that he has little idea what he is actually going to do with all of these items once he has them. He has the diet one would expect of a single, secluded, 21-year-old man: absolute garbage.

Satisfied she would at least be able to help out a little bit, she picks up her purse and heads out to the store. ‘Fruits’ and ‘vegetables’ were a pretty vague request, but she tried to pick up a variety of commonly liked and easy-to-cook-with produce for him and Saeran to eat. What would Saeran like to eat? Is he picky? Unlikely, but it seems they both favor sweet things. Everything else is relatively easy to pick out, going with name brand products for everything except for the sprinkles (how different could Beddy Crocker rainbow colored sugar lumps be from the store brand’s?), and doing a little shopping of her own in the process.

Stopping off at her home first, MC artfully stacks the multitude of ice cream pints in her freezer so they wouldn’t melt, grabs her apron, and gets to work. It’s nothing fancy, simple, easy meals that re-heat well. She packs all the food back up, removing the ice cream from the freezer and stacking tupperware containers in her arms. It makes for a turbulent trip to the car, but the trip out of the bunker in mid-afternoon traffic seems almost relaxing by comparison.

⌨⌨⌨

Approaching the door, MC neatly lays out the bags and homemade meals, rings the doorbell and pivots on her heel to leave. Her chest aches at the idea that he doesn’t want to see her, especially when she is at his doorstep, but she gets it. Saeran is having a rough time and the two brothers need to sort through a lot of deeply-rooted family issues. She probably only knows half the story and it still seems like a high hurdle to overcome. The doctors advised there would be damage caused by Saeran’s long-term exposure to the Mint Eye drugs. The first time Saeyoung cried to her over the phone was when the doctors told him Saeran might suffer from the drug’s after effects forever. That didn’t even factor in the twins’ abusive childhood, or the trauma left behind from Mint Eye’s other brain-washing methods.

Compared to that, missing her fiancé for a few weeks, or even months, and struggling to pay the rent for an apartment not previously owned by a cultist who armed the building with a bomb wasn’t worth complaining about.

Just as she makes it to the lowest step, someone rushes to the door, bounding up the last few stairs with heavy footfalls and smacking against the wall before fiddling with the locks. It’s Saeyoung, looking tired and worn underneath all his usual bright colors. MC gives him a concerned look, glancing down to the bags and then back to him. His eyes brighten, just a little, and her heart flutters. He missed her. The smile on her face bubbles up of its own accord and he does his best to return it through the lead weight of exhaustion.

There are only a few feet between Saeyoung and the comfort and warmth of his fiancé, but neither of them move. To do so might push the other into a situation they were uncomfortable with, a line they could not uncross. Over the phone it was easier, at least for Saeyoung. He could share things about his day and dote over her without the immediate risk of intimacy. He had lost his mind and babbled in the messenger about his feelings months ago when they were just getting to know each other. Once he got started pulling her in, he might not be able to stop. He might scare her. Saeran might scare her. His twin brother had nearly gotten all of them blown up, had manipulated her, and had been nothing but hostile since she found out. She said she was fine, but she couldn’t be. There was no way, not even someone as kind-hearted as her could forgive everything on the spot.

And this time, all he wants is to keep her close.

“I-It’s good to see you,” she breaks the silence, pulling Saeyoung from his thoughts. “I didn’t think you’d come to the door.”

Saeyoung glances down to the bags on the front step. She was right, he hadn’t planned on coming to the door, but the bell rang and he couldn’t help himself even if all he can manage right now isn’t near the kind of love and attention she deserves.

“It’s good to see you too.” She looks good, put-together and bright even with her eyes filled with concern. Concern for him. Concern he wasn’t worthy of. Saeyoung gathers up the bags in his arms, having a slightly easier time than she did, though not by much.

I miss you…

I miss you too…

“Well,” she pauses, as if another moment might get him to change his mind and let her in (emotionally or physically, beggars can’t be choosers after all), but nothing comes of it. “I’ll get going. Let me know if you need anything else. I don’t mind dropping by.”

“Sure,” he says, but he doesn’t mean it and they both know that.

Just wait for me a little longer…please.

⌨⌨⌨

Another two weeks go by like this, MC pestering him about what he needs and then showing up a couple of times a week to bring by groceries and her own homemade meals. Saeyoung shows up in the chatroom a couple of times a day, and MC enters as often as she can manage, telling the members about her day and making sure everything is okay. When Saeyoung does come in, he is the bright, joke loving 707 for the rest of the members, even when she knows things are bad back at the bunker. It worries her, because she knows that if Saeyoung would just let them know what was going on the entire RFA would do everything they could to help, but maybe the chatroom is his escape. He needs a place to just be happy. Plus, she misses that bright joke-loving part of his personality, even if it is just a farce it makes her happy to see little pieces of it around in the chat logs. Hopefully soon he’ll be able to let that part of him out more.

MC brings more of her own homemade food during the next few trips after an uptick in both ‘thank you’ texts and updates on ‘God 7’s Kitchen Experiments’ most of which seem dubitably edible . After the second visit, Saeran starts coming out of his room as soon as the doorbell rings. He never makes it close enough to the door for MC to see him, but she can hear the door shut and the sounds of someone trying to be sneaky. It makes her smile, the food is well-received by the both of them it seems. She really is helping them, and Saeyoung seems to be warming up to the visits. He smiles more, and seems more hesitant to see her go. They are back to affectionate goodbye kisses and lingering stares to prolong the final moments before she leaves.

She leans into today’s goodbye kiss and rests her forehead on her fiancé’s when he tries to pull away. Not yet, neither of them are ready to let go yet, she can see it in his eyes, even behind the hesitance. Saeyoung takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he speaks.

“…Do you want to come inside for a minute?”

I’ve been waiting for weeks!

“Of course,” MC says, grabbing a couple of the grocery bags and following him inside. A flash of hair peeks out from the hall and tries to duck away when she enters the house, just a second too late to keep from being noticed. They both freeze in place, giving MC and Saeran a brief second of thoroughly awkward eye contact before Saeran darts into his room, the door rattling softly against the frame. She can hear Saeyoung fidget beside her, and looks over her shoulder with a big grin to reassure him.

“Is that you Saeran?” She speaks warmly, as though she is trying to coax a frightened animal over. In a way, she is. When that illicits no sound from behind the door after a minute, she sets down the bags in the kitchen and resolves to try a different approach. She makes a big show of stepping back into the living room, projecting her voice as far as it will go. “Hmm…maybe not. Too bad, I was looking forward to meeting him for the first time.”

Her acting skills may need a lot of little work, but after several long seconds of silence, the door opens a few inches, revealing Saeran peering at her like a disgruntled cat. MC can’t help but beam at him. He might still be…rough around the edges, but it felt like progress, and the potential for more to come.

One day they would all be a happy family, and she was sure of it.

#mystic messenger #mm 707 #707 #707xMC #oneshot #oh man how do I want to tag anything #saeran #mine #my writing

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sapphicscholar · 7 years

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Prompt from Love Sanvers for Sanvers attending a friend's wedding with lots of fluff at their table, under their table with wandering hands, having the bouquet fall between them on the table, slow dancing, sipping champagne, sweet random kisses, and talking about their own wedding. Please oh please oh pretty please.

Since I spent a few hours at a bridal shower recently, this felt only appropriate… This is pretty much pure fluff (though my nerd notes are kinda smutty this week)

Chapter Text

“Who has an outdoor wedding in October in the Northeast?” Alex hissed, shivering slightly in her dress as she leaned further into Maggie.

“Are you sure you don’t want my jacket?” Maggie offered for what felt like the hundredth time. Knowing what fall weather in a state other than California could feel like, she’d had the foresight to wear a suit and felt quite comfortable beneath the layers.

“No, you look sexy; I don’t want to ruin the aesthetic.”

“I care far more about you not getting hypothermia than about my aesthetic,” Maggie whispered.

“I won’t, you know I just don’t like the cold.”

“Fair enough. But you’ll let me know if you change your mind?”

“I promise.” After a moment, she turned back to Maggie and asked: “The reception is indoors, right?”

“Right,” Maggie confirmed. “At least the ceremony part isn’t normally too long.”

“I’m trusting you.”

“Don’t worry, Tasha isn’t one for overly formal events. I bet we’re out of here in half an hour.”

As it turned out, the ceremony was, as promised, quite brief, though Alex was more than a little frustrated by how long it took everyone in attendance to file out of the aisles. “Fuck this weather. Our wedding had better be indoors,” Alex whispered, though not quite quietly enough if the glare from the woman waiting behind them was any indication. It wasn’t until they got back to their car and had the heater on that Alex cheered considerably.

“So all it takes to make you happy are seat warmers?” Maggie teased, even as she turned up the heat a little more and pointed the vents toward Alex.

“You knew what you were getting into when you started dating a California girl.”

“I believe I was promised something about ‘unforgettable,’ if a certain pop star had it right…”

“I think last night was pretty unforgettable,” Alex purred as her fingers made their way to Maggie’s upper thighs. There was something rather romantic about the rustic cabin Maggie had rented for them for the weekend, and the night before, Maggie had gone all out, lighting candles and lining them around the bubble bath she had prepared for them to share. With the lights out and the last fading rays of sunlight reflecting in through the large windows, Alex had felt all the stress of the week seeping away as she relaxed into Maggie’s chest, letting Maggie’s hands and the hot water envelop her.

Of course, after nearly half an hour of relaxing, with the water beginning to cool, they both grew restless. Tender caresses turned needy, and gentle kisses turned into heady embraces as they pulled themselves out of the bath. While Maggie took care of blowing out all of the candles, Alex “got the room ready,” which actually meant pulling on silky black lingerie that had remained folded in her drawer since her Valentine’s Day dance that never was. And from there, they had let the night and the mood take them, as they held each other close, hands and tongues mapping the curves of each other’s bodies until they fell asleep, legs still tangled together.

Maggie gently pushed Alex’s fingers back to the center console. “Not now, I don’t want to crash this car.” Seeing the pout on Alex’s face, she assured her, “I’m already all distracted thinking about last night now; I don’t need something else to focus on instead of the road.”

“Fine,” Alex sighed. “I’m just saying…maybe we don’t need to go to the reception. We could be sick.”

“What? With a relapse of the black lung?” Maggie teased.

“It’s been known to happen. More common than you might expect.”

“Mm, is that so? I promise I’ll make today seem totally worth your while tonight.”

“If you say so,” Alex finally relented, though, truth be told, she was looking forward to the reception—and not just because it would be indoors. It had been many years since she’d been to a wedding, and she suspected that being at one with a date she actually liked might make a huge difference.

---

“So, at our wedding, there’ll be better vegetarian options,” Maggie whispered, adding to what had become a rather extensive list of notes about their coming wedding as they made their way through the ceremony and reception.

“You mean you don’t love your…mushrooms?” Alex teased, popping the last bite of steak into her mouth.

“It’s not fair! You get a vegetarian option, and they assume that not only are you going to love mushrooms, but also that you want a freakin salad as your side. You get steak and mashed potatoes and broccoli! I’d be more satisfied with just the potatoes and vegetable,” Maggie huffed.

“I know, I know. I promise we’ll get whatever pasta dish your heart desires for our reception.”

“Now…for the cake,” Maggie began, grinning at Alex as the reality of the situation hit her—this beautiful, brilliant woman was really going to be her wife in a few months’ time.

“What about the cake? Please, don’t say vegan frosting. I don’t want to gag on my own wedding cake.”

“So I guess you want to skip the ritual of shoving it into each other’s faces as well?”

“Uh, yeah. No thank you to all of that,” Alex chuckled.

“And the garter? You don’t want me on my knees in front of everyone?”

Blushing a brilliant shade of scarlet, Alex shook her head. “Not in front of my mother!”

Laughing, Maggie raised her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine! We’ll save that for the wedding night. Now, what traditions do you want to keep?”

“I still want to do the something old, new, borrowed, and blue thing. And I like the toasts from the best man and maid of honor, though we can probably forgo the whole gendered thing there.”

“Now, uh, what about the whole…parents walking you down the aisle thing?” Maggie asked, trying not to dwell on the fact that her own father would never do it for her, would never even admit that what she and Alex were doing was a wedding in the first place. Of course, she thought the whole idea of “giving the bride away” was antiquated and far too patriarchal for her tastes, but having the option would have been nice.

“Hey, no, Maggie, no. I wouldn’t—no, neither of us will, okay?” Alex held Maggie’s gaze as she pulled her fiancée’s hands into her own and held them close, her thumbs stroking gentle patterns across Maggie’s palms.

“I mean, I can always wait for you at the altar. Really, it would be fine.”

“It’s not like my dad’s around…god knows where he is or who he’s working for these days,” Alex mumbled, trying not to dwell on the sad.

“I just figured, you know, maybe you’d want to ask J’onn,” Maggie shrugged.

Unable to resist any longer, Alex leaned over and, cupping her hands around Maggie’s jaw, kissed her soundly.

“What’s that for?” Maggie asked, looking pleased but also a bit confused.

“Because…” Alex paused, trying to find the right words to tell Maggie that it meant the world to her to know that Maggie already knew what J’onn meant to her, was already thinking about ways to incorporate her slightly less than traditional family into a wedding, even when her own family wouldn’t be there. “Because you’re just perfect, okay?”

“Ah, well, I can’t argue with that logic,” Maggie shrugged with a lopsided grin, pulling Alex back in for another kiss.

“But, um, I actually wanted to talk to you. About J’onn—his role, I mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, um, I wondered—and you can say no, of course! This is your wedding too—but I wondered what you thought about maybe having him officiate?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. He’s been so supportive—and not just of you, but of me too. Plus, I can’t think of anyone better to get all of our friends to be quiet and behave through the whole ceremony.”

“That’s very true,” Alex agreed with a slightly watery chuckle. “Happy tears,” she added, preempting Maggie’s next question. “God, I’m totally gonna cry at our wedding, aren’t I?”

“Someone has to,” Maggie teased. “Better you than me.”

“Shut up. You’re the worst.”

“Nope. Not buying it, Danvers. Just a minute ago you told me I was perfect.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Alex huffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I bet I can think of a hundred ways to changing it back again,” Maggie purred, pulling one of her hands out from Alex’s and letting her fingers creep up Alex’s thigh, feeling more than hearing the way that Alex’s breath seemed to catch in the back of her throat.

The sound of glasses clinking pulled their attention back to the room, though, and Alex, realizing their surroundings, quickly pushed Maggie’s hand away.

“Alright, ladies,” one of the bridesmaids announced into the microphone, “it’s time for our favorite tradition!”

“What’s that?” Alex whispered, only to have her question answered a moment later.

“Gather round, and be the first to catch that bouquet!”

“Ah,” Alex sighed in understanding. “I think we probably don’t need a bouquet to tell us that we’re getting married soon, huh?”

“Nah, I feel pretty secure.” Smiling at Alex, Maggie leaned in and softly kissed her on the cheek, pulling her arm around Alex’s shoulders as they watched a whole group of women shuffle onto the dance floor right in front of the bride, who had her back turned to them and a bouquet clutched in her hands.

“Ready?” Tasha yelled over her shoulder. Loud whoops and hollers rang out to meet her. With a grin, Tasha flung the bouquet over her head, turning around just in time to watch it sail over the heads of all of the waiting would-be catchers, landing smack on the table in front of Maggie and Alex, smushing the last bites of Maggie’s long abandoned mushroom platter.

Cackling, Maggie held up the slightly soggy bouquet, being sure to hold it away from her outfit, and kissed Alex soundly, eliciting a loud chorus of cheers from around the room. When she finally pulled back, unable to stop from laughing any longer, Maggie explained: “I should have mentioned: Tasha and I played softball together back in the day. She was the best damn pitcher our team ever had.”

---

“Alex Danvers, may I have this dance?” Maggie asked with a low bow as she held her hand out to Alex.

“Why, I think you may,” Alex replied, biting back giggles as Maggie made a show of guiding her to the dance floor. There may or may not have been several flutes of champagne involved in getting them to this point, and with how little she’d eaten for dinner, Maggie had felt it going straight to her head almost immediately. Alex hadn’t quite caught up, but she’d allowed herself to be swept into the fun right alongside her fiancée.

As “The Way You Look Tonight,” played over the speakers set up around the room, Maggie guided Alex out onto the dance floor, immediately moving into position to take the lead.

“Excuse me, why do you get to lead?” Alex objected, even as she moved her arms to meet Maggie’s.

“Because I know how to lead.”

“And you just assume I don’t?”

“Do you?”

“No…”

“Then it’s settled. C’mon, follow my lead, just like in the bedroom,” Maggie teased.

“Rude! That was only a thing those first few times,” Alex huffed back, a light pink flush creeping across her chest.

“It was sweet, though,” Maggie added, her lips curling up into a small smile as she began moving them across the floor, not caring if they stumbled slightly in their heels on the slick floor or whether their steps perfectly matched the rhythm of the song. They could practice for their own wedding, but tonight, Maggie thought, as she spun Alex back into her and dipped her for a romantic kiss, tonight could just be about being together.

#sanvers #fluff #wedding #alex x maggie #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #supergirl #fanfic #prompt fill #ao3feed

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