#pictures of wedding hairstyles for bridesmaids

[cherryblossom-heart]

Could you love me one last time? (B.B ModernAU!)

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Masterlist

Summary: It was inevitable, everyone else around you could see it. You and Bucky Barnes were meant to fall for each other. Unfortunately you were also meant to break each others hearts. You left, he stayed and you thought that was it, until a wedding made you come back to face the past you left behind.

13.1 k words

Content warning: ANGST, toxic 'situationship' between Reader and Bucky, heartbreak, alcohol comsumption, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Bucky and Reader sleeping with other people while they have their situationship going on.

A/N: It's been a long time since I posted. Ik I teased this a long time ago but life got in the way and I forgot about it but now I'm back with this so I hope you guys like it. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics

Peggy’s dress was surprisingly beautiful. The first time you had seen it in pictures, the dress up in a hanger, you had thought of it a bit ugly to your liking. The long, slight puffy sleeves, the plain A skirt, and the square neckline made for an overall boring piece of fabric, and when she had asked you over FaceTime what your thoughts were, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. But now, as she walked with a smile on her face to her soon-to-be husband, you were happy you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t the dress or the makeup or the hairstyle that made her stunning, it was the love and care in her eyes. It was the happiness in her face whenever she looked at Steve.

Just as she reached the end of the aisle, taking her place next to you and the rest of the bridesmaids, a pair of familiar blue icy eyes caught your attention. Bucky looked good, you could admit to yourself, even after not seeing him for the past almost six years, it seemed that time had just made him even more attractive. He no longer was the youthful, long haired and clean shaved guy that had once dared you to see who could fit more grapes in your mouth, accidentally spitting one to your face as he tried not to choke with them. The traces of his fuckboyish persona were long gone too, instead replaced by a seriousness you had only seen on certain occasions. This Bucky was no longer a boy that enjoyed playing with feelings and breaking hearts; this was a man. A man that looked slightly older had light wrinkles and shorter hair that came with a slight beard. This was a Bucky changed, mature.

This Bucky wasn’t the one you had left behind when you moved away.

His eyes stayed on you during the whole ceremony, and you couldn’t help but stare back at him.  For years you had wondered what you would do if you ever saw him again, you wondered if things would be awkward, or perhaps he would act as if nothing had happened, as if both of you hadn’t ended up with a broken heart that night. A part of you thought it would still hurt as it did almost six years ago, maybe the anger would still be there and it would end up with both of you avoiding each other as much as you could. You saw a hundred scenarios running through your head all through your seven hour flight, but you never considered this one.

You never expected he would be so direct, or to look at you with such intensity. You were sure that after all this time he would have already forgotten about you, leaving your memory buried in the back of his mind as he easily replaced you with some other girl. Yet the way his eyes screamed for your attention made you think otherwise, a deep-rooted desperation washed over them, and you understood what he said.

“I’ve missed you.”

You weren’t the only one to notice it. Once the party started and the bride and groom were going around tables greeting everyone, Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper dragged you to the venue's private dressing room to drill you with every question they could think of. You were thankful Peggy was too busy with her new husband, or else the interrogatory would’ve been ten times more exhausting.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Have you guys talked?”

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“Why is he looking at you like that?”

“Do you still love him?”

And that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Did your heart still belong to James Buchannan Barnes? Was your heart still yearning for the tumultuous yet passionate and ultimately toxic relationship that had ensued between both of you?

The answer to all of that was yes and no. You didn’t miss the person you had become at the end of your "relationship," if you could even call it that; you didn’t miss the fights, the crying, and the resentment. You didn’t miss the uncertainty that came with being with young Bucky Barnes or the hole in your chest that you felt whenever he would leave.

However, you did miss his company. Not the bullshit, flirtatious, overly confident, and emotionally distant persona he would often put out. No, that dickhead was one of the reasons you never worked out. Instead, you missed the Bucky that would buy you a coffee every morning, the one that would make you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one that would invite you over to have a movie night and buy your favorite snacks.

You missed Bucky, who used to be your friend.

Natasha, the ever-observant of your group of friends, had warned you before it started. She had seen the way you eyed each other at a party one drunken night, both your eyes burning with desire as a product of the growing sexual tension you have had ever since you met for the first time.

As it turned out, Natasha was not only beautiful but also intuitive.

“Nat, please—” you drunkenly argued. Your red cup filled with liquor spilled as you tried to walk away from the redhead, but her hand stopped you.

“Listen to me. I know you want to fuck him, but you have to promise me you won’t do it.” The seriousness behind her voice didn’t register in your intoxicated brain, though, and you kept rolling your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You half slurred, half laughed.

“I see the way you look at him; I also see the way he looks at you. Maybe one day you guys could be a good couple, great even, but right now the only thing that could come out of you two hooking up is one of you getting hurt, if not both.” Her hands grabbed your face, and green eyes met yours. “You will break each other's hearts. You already love each other; we can all see it, but neither of you is ready to be in a relationship or to compromise yet. So please, for the love of God, do not sleep with him.”

Natasha’s words were wise, and with time, they turned out to be true. The next morning you had woken up in bed alone; the only memory of him was the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the cologne he always wore.

That was the first time Bucky had broken your heart.

Truth be told, as much as you had blamed Bucky for the downfall of your situationship, you were as equally guilty as he had been. The loneliness, the anger, and the resentment you felt throughout the relationship were probably reciprocated because, as Nat had said, you weren’t ready to be together.

Both of you loved each other deeply, but you didn’t know how to do it. Not in a healthy way.

So you tore yourselves apart, sleeping with one another but never brave enough to define things. You acted as if you were a couple, but neither of you would admit your feelings, not even to each other. It was a cycle of stability and sex that always crashed down with one of you being scared, perhaps both of you at the same time, of giving your heart away.

“Hey”

Your heart drummed against your chest, and a warmth spread over your cheeks. You had missed his voice, the sweet baritone of his voice had always made your body react like that. And now, after years of not hearing it, you finally realized how much you had craved for it.

He carried two flutes filled with champagne and passed one to you, which you gladly took.

“Thanks.” you said with a smile.

Both of you took a sip from your drinks, unsure of how to start the so needed conversation. Fortunately, Bucky decided to take the first step.

“They seem happy, huh?”

You chuckled mentally at his opening line, but you admitted to yourself you couldn’t do better.

“Yeah.” You took a second sip of your drink. “The happiest I’ve ever seen them.”

“You must be proud.” he pointed out. You looked at him, confused at what he meant. “Of your matchmaking skills. This wouldn’t have happened without you convincing Peggy to let Steve show her around the city when she first moved here.”

Ah, of course. A sweet smile placed on your lips as you remembered Steve’s adoration showing on his face the first time he saw Peggy after coming to visit you. She, on the other hand, thought nothing more of him than just a pretty guy, but you could see that behind the tough façade she always displayed towards men that tried to flirt with her, she was interested in him, his character, and the kindness he always displayed.

So naturally, you intervened. And you got the perfect opportunity when Peggy got offered a job in New York.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smirked at him.

“Sure,” he chuckled.

A heartbeat passed, and blue eyes connected with yours once again. The more you looked at them, the more you could feel all the things he wanted to say—a storm of words locked behind them and almost ready to spill. But above all, you could see a bit of sadness, and he found himself finding the same in yours.

His hand twitched in instinct, wanting to caress your face to comfort you, as he had done for so many years, but he caught himself before doing it. It was too late though; you caught it the moment you saw his eyes tense up.

“Do you—” his words died on his mouth, the rushed beating of his heart stopping them. He cleared his throat, trying to push out more confidence than he actually felt. “Wanna go take a walk?”

You didn’t answer immediately. You couldn’t. Every rational part of you was screaming at you, scolding you for even thinking of going with him. You couldn't do it, you couldn’t fall for the same cycle you had run away from in the first place. You weren’t the same person as you were before, you matured, and you learned from your mistakes. Going out with the man that always seem to bring your deepest, darkest, and most unwanted feelings was something you couldn't do.

You couldn't.

You shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

You were convinced that whoever planned Steve and Peggy’s wedding was into sorcery, or at the very least a clairvoyant. When Peggy and Steve chose this place along with a terrace to host the ceremony, everyone had been skeptical of it, as having a wedding outside in the middle of April wasn’t a good choice. As the day of the ceremony closed in, the rainy days did too, and five days before it wouldn’t stop raining all day. Steve and Peggy had expressed their concerns to the wedding planner, but they only got a confident response that nothing would ruin their day. And the wedding planner had been right, not a single drop fell that day in the middle of April; instead, a cool, warm day had welcomed the newlyweds.

As you walked the chilly but comfortable night streets of New York, you thanked the wedding planner and their perfect timing. Even walking in silence along him brought your heart back to the many times you had done the same thing back then, back when you were just two college students without any idea what the future held for you.

“So... how you’ve been?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.

“I’ve been alright. Work has really taken over my life.”

He chuckled. “You? A workaholic?”

It wasn't that you had been irresponsible or a mess back in college, but you had always been more of an adventurer, and you had always pointed out your desire to never lose your freedom.

He had been the same.

“Look who’s talking, Mr. ‘I have my own firm’,” you teased.

Steve had told you a couple of years ago about their idea of opening his own firm, alongside Bucky and Sam. You remember your heart stopping at the mention of his name, but you didn’t tell Steve to not mention him; instead, you asked more about it. It was the first time in years you got any updates on his life, and you allowed yourself to dwell in it. That call stayed on your mind for weeks.

“Shut up,” he smirked.

That was all he needed to open up about what had happened to him. He told you about his old firm and how he hated to work there. How he wanted to have a place where working pro bono wasn’t such an impossible thing to do, he wanted to do more than just defend white collar rich people that seemed to think the law was always above them. He told you how scared he was of leaving somewhere where he had stability but was ultimately convinced by Steve to make a big move, follow what he wanted to do.

In return, you told him about how scared you had been of building a new life in a different country and how you thought your job would suffer from it, as you had thought that as a journalist with a lack of connections and knowledge of the place would put you in a thought position. You told him how you had met Peggy when you were interviewing a couple of government officers for alleged corruption practices, and out of everyone there, Peggy seemed to be the only one that had taken any concern in it. You told him about the job offer you had gotten for a company right in New York that you weren’t taken so seriously but you still wanted to see what it was.

The more you heard him speak, the more happiness grew inside you. Sometimes you wondered whether you had made the right choice or not when you left him behind, but hearing everything he had accomplished, both of you, you were confident you had done what was right for you both.

You turned to him, both of you stopping in your tracks, your hand moved before you could stop it and found it’s place in his, and he reacted on pure instinct, his fingers intertwining with yours.

Bucky’s touch had always brought you warmth on cold days. Ever since the first time you shook hands, there had been an invisible force that made you crave his touch, your hands prickling wherever he had touch. With Bucky, you had always felt safe, even when he was breaking your heart.

You searched in his eyes for any signs of uncomfortableness or rejection at your touch, your heart aching in your chest at the thought of it, but there was only surprise and vulnerability in them. The corner of his eyes lowered as his eyebrows furrowed and his thumb swept over your skin, sending sparkles all over your body.

He had missed this, more than he would ever admit.

“I’m proud of you, Jamie.” His face lit up, a happy smile spreading over his face. “I always knew you would do great things.”

Bucky’s hand leaves yours, a sudden ache installing in your chest, but it didn’t stay there long as he engulfed you in a tight hug, one of his arms surrounding your waist and the other one going behind your neck.

Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, and his hand held the back of your head. His eyes closed as he smelled your lavender shampoo.

“I’m so proud of you too, my beautiful angel,” he whispered next to your ear, making your eyes prickle with the treat of tears spilling from them. “Peggy told me how hard you’ve worked for your position. You have the job of your dreams, you deserve every promotion you’ve gotten, every award, and every adventure you’ve had. I’m proud of the life you have built for yourself.”

The hug became tighter as you both relished in each other's touch and smell, a memory of the past that still ached but also brought you the sweetest of comfort.

Even after all that had happened, the love and care, no matter how tainted it had ended up as, still remained there. Deep down, in the bittersweet memories of how good things had been and the old promises that were never kept, the feelings were still there.

After a few minutes, the embrace was cut short, both of you now slightly embarrassed for the sudden display of affection. The heat in your cheeks made you cringe inwards, and you forced yourself to look away. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as you did. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn't feel so deeply for him.

As it turned out, stopping loving Bucky Barnes wasn’t as easy as you had thought.

His hand wrapped yours, taking you by surprise. A charming smile showed his white teeth, and the little wrinkles around his eyes made your heart melt. You smiled back at him, the butterflies in your stomach growing stronger and stronger; perhaps they never left.

“Remember that old bar with the arcade inside?” he asked out of nowhere.

“The one where we found after the whole John Walker thing?” He nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Let’s go grab a drink there.”

Electricity ran through your veins at his words, and you felt like you were a freshman in college again.

“Aren’t we a little too overdressed to go to a bar?” You question. Bucky’s navy blue suit that was paired with an expensive-looking pair of black shoes and your lilac flowy long dress were definitely too much for a dinky little bar.

Bucky’s eyes shone with a youthful spark you had seen so long ago as he squeezed your hand.

“Who cares?”

When you got accepted into your first college choice, you thought you might have been dreaming. The chances you got accepted were the lowest of every place that you had applied to, but by some miracle you got it. You had dreamed of what college life would be—the classes you would take, the new and interesting people you would meet, and even the parties you would attend. You had prepared yourself for a life full of work and perhaps adventure.

But not even a lifetime of daydreaming could’ve prepared you for Bucky Barnes.

Life is filled with an ocean of coincidences, but the ones that always lingered in your mind were the ones that brought you to him. If Natasha’s phone had not died the night before, she would’ve woken up in time to get to class, and she would’ve taken her preferred spot in the middle of the class. If she had woken up in time, she wouldn’t have ended up sitting in the only available seat, which coincidentally was next to you.

If Natasha had woken up earlier, you would’ve never ended up talking to her and subsequently going to go grab something to eat; she would’ve never introduced you to her roommate Wanda or her longtime friend Steve. Also, she would’ve never invited you to hang out with the rest of her friend group in the exact same bar that you would adopt for a weekly Friday reunion for the rest of college.

And perhaps you would’ve never had met Bucky Barnes, or you would’ve ended up being one of many nightstands. Or maybe life would’ve ended up bringing you to him no matter what, because after meeting him you started to believe in soulmates. Not in the typical type of soulmates that, with just one glance, you weren’t that naive, but you did believe in the type of soulmates that would understand you unlike anyone else. There had always been an emptiness in your heart that you never noticed, not until he held you for the first time after a bad day.

Bucky was your soulmate because things had never been complicated with him, not even the first time you met each other. Talking to him, opening up, and letting him see the ugliest parts of yourself was almost second nature to you. You were convinced that the only person who could see the world the same as you was him. He saw the good and the bad in you because, in the end, the same parts in you that were broken were already broken in himself.

Maybe this was why you didn’t work out.

At the time you didn’t care, the only thing you cared about was the fact that being with Bucky made you feel good. That’s why it wasn’t so hard to convince you to go with him to do things that weren’t necessarily smart, wise... or legal. Things like breaking into a party that was hosted by Bucky’s college nemesis and spray painting in his room the words “You are nothing without Daddy’s money.” Bucky had always been talented at hitting where it hurt, especially when it came to someone who had jeopardized his scholarship.

John Walker had been furious later that night when he had brought a girl upstairs only to fund the stench of the spray pain nauseatingly filling his room. The black letters still dripped from the freshness of it, and Walker had gone in what could only be described as a temper tantrum at the age of twenty, at least that’s what everyone had said next Monday when you went back to class.

That night you had decided to celebrate, roaming the streets of New York in search of a bar that would take your fake ID’s and wouldn’t think twice about it but could also drink in peace without having to fight for a beer. Unfortunately, everywhere seemed to be either packed or the bartender would intensely check everyone's ID, driving you away from there. You had already paid a good amount for them, you didn’t want to risk losing it.

Almost close to giving up and just going back to Bucky’s apartment, a neon light caught your attention. Big, bright cyan letters read “Blue Circuit,"  a lonely bar in the middle of town that not a lot of people seemed to go to. A bar that would become a place just for you and Bucky, away from everyone else, from people’s expectations, and above all, away from the real world. As long as you were there with him, nothing mattered, and no one else could break apart what this place meant.

But if things had gone the way they were supposed to, then you wouldn’t have left, and even after all these years, this place would still be yours, and his eyes wouldn’t have looked at you with such hatred when he had caught you in the bathroom with a random guy you met at a party.

“C’mon!” Bucky yelled once your character had gotten the last winning hit on his. The animation of the pixelated woman with steel fans using them to cut his character's head officially proclaimed your victory.

With a cocky smile, you took a step back, winking at him as you took a sip of your drink, and the taste of rum filled your taste buds. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised, I’ve always been better at this than you.”

His body came close to you, close enough to smell the beers he had been taking, and with a seamless swing he took your glass away from your lips and brought it to his, his body ever so slightly trapping you against a table.

“That’s because you always cheat.” He said, with a playfulness in his eyes that made your heart pound against your chest. “You do your little cheat codes that I’ve never learned.”

“You mean learning the combos and using them?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure, if that’s what you call them.”

You took back your drink, placing it on the table behind you, before grabbing his hand and guiding him through the other machines, scanning them with your eyes as you passed the few that still remained there. The classics were still there: Pacman, Space Invaders, MK, Tetris, etc; but those were still games that Bucky still struggled with. You remembered you used to tell him he had an old soul, and that’s why he always struggled to play any videogames, no matter how old they were.

“So, what do you want to get your ass beaten on now?”

His eyes swept through the room until they finally landed in a new addition to the bar, a brand new air hockey table. He didn’t even have to say a word, once his eyes had reached yours, you knew it.

With a happy smile, you rushed to the table. The way you both laughed reminded you of the way you would run hand in hand to your next class when you were late, the rushing in your veins and the tingling sensation of his touch in your skin being the only thing that mattered once you caught a glance of his face. A silly crush, you had deemed it. As if his smile wouldn’t warm up your inside, as if his presence wasn’t the only one that you could tolerate sometimes. As if he hadn’t managed to become one of the most important people in your life in just six months.

As if he wasn’t your first actual love.

College me was so naive, you thought amused with yourself. What you weren’t expecting was the speckles of bitterness that lingered in your mouth moments after it.

“You wanna make this more interesting?” Bucky broke you from your thoughts.

Right, air hockey.

“I’m listening.” A smooth tone filled every letter you said, making his skin filled with goosebumps.

He dug into his pockets, pulling out the change he had previously gotten from the bartender so you could use it and putting it in the side of the machine. One flat hockey disc fell, and he placed it on his side.

“Let’s make it a challenge.”

“What do you mean?”

James, the man whore seductress he always was, began uncuffing his sleeves off, folding them up until they reached right below his elbow. At first you would’ve thought of it as a way to get himself comfortable for the game, but the way he leaned over the table, his muscles popping discreetly against his shirt and his eyes burning you with something you were familiar with, you knew it was intentional.

“If any of us score a point, we get to ask a question to the other person , whatever it is, and we have to answer it, no bullshit allowed.”

Bucky was tempting you the same way he used to do it. He had something in mind he wanted to ask, and he was fishing for an in. He knew how to sweet-talk to you to give in, he knew how attractive he was, and he had learned what worked on you to the tea. James knew what he was doing just as much as you knew it, and that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was how much you wanted to give in.

“No bullshit, huh?” You asked, downing the rest of your drink before grabbing the mallet in your hand. If James Buchanan Barnes knew something was how to bring excitement to your life. You missed that. “Alright, ready to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets?”

He chuckled at your words, an ever so attractive smirk placing in his lips as he moved medium length hair away from his face. “Overconfidence is going to be your downfall, angel.”

Ah, there it was again. Angel.

He was trying, you could give him that. He really was trying. He knew that nickname always made your heart race faster. Sure, it wasn’t the most original one, people had called you that before, but it the way he said it that made it special.

He always made you feel special.

“It’s not overconfidence, old man. It’s just a fact.”

“Hey, fuck you. I’m only a year older than you.” You gave him a blank stare, knowing fully aware that wasn’t what you meant. “Besides, people say I have an old soul.”

And with that, the game started.

He took you by surprise, the little shit. A hard swipe, and the disk went zigzagging through the table until it got past your guard. The sound of the disk falling back for you to pick it up finally reached your ears before you could even process what was going on.

“That was cheating!” You argued, picking the disc back up.

James shrugged. “What? Now that I score a point, you're going to call it cheating?” He started to shake his head. “Such a sore loser.”

Ok, alright. He wanted to play like that, you could play the same.

“Fine.” You grunted. “Ask away.”

He took his time, a couple of seconds in, and you could see the question forming in his mind. Your heart pumped against your chest so rapidly, anticipation building up at what he was going to say.

“What was the first thing you thought when you saw me again?"

“Uh,” you stammered, You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to ask, but it still took you aback. “That’s your first question?”

James shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, I thought you looked more mature.”

“You mean old?” He questioned, half offended.

"No,” you chuckled. “Mature in the sense that I can’t see that same childishness I used to see all over your face ever since I met you.” You threw back the disk in the table and shot it with your mallet, the disk zigzagging all over the table. Bucky’s reflexes were good though, he blocked it right as it was about to go through and the next round began. “A part of me expected to see the same smug, cocky smile that followed me all through college but with a couple of wrinkles, maybe even a few gray hairs.” He chuckled. “But it’s not there. Well, it’s still there, but not in the same ‘I’m Bucky Barnes, I’m a total 10 and I know it and I definitely think I’m the hottest shit around’ type of way” You paused for a second, before almost whispering. “I was glad it isn’t there anymore.”

For a moment his eyes left the table and went to see your face. You thought for a second your words might’ve offended him, but the smile plastered all over his face brought relief to you.

“I was that annoying, huh?” he chuckled.

“Just a little bit.” You shrugged.

With an abrupt movement, you stopped the black circle and looked directly at him. Blue eyes looked at you confused until he saw the coy smile on your lips, your eyes looking deeper into him and making his spine shiver.

You gave him “the eyes.”.

“I also thought I almost forgot how good you look when you wear blue.” You told him before sliding the disk right across the table.

Score.

Not only could you play the same game as him, you could play it better.

After all, it was you that made the first move that night.

“Are you sure we can go up there this late?” You questioned as the imposing building in front of you two seemed locked for the night.

Bucky’s hand squeezed yours harder while still guiding you towards it. “Trust me, I’ve spent my fare share of nights here.”

He knocked on the glass doors, as they were already blocked at this time of the night. A man dressed in a security guard outfit came close to the door, a tired smile on his face.

“I’m starting to think you don’t actually own a house, Mr. Barnes.” He joked while searching between his keys.

The security guards comment made him chuckle. “What can I say, Jeff? There’s nothing like the smell of a copy machine to put me to sleep.”

“I can tell.” Jeff let you in, closing the door quickly behind you. “And I see you brought some company this time.”

You smiled at him shyly, extending your hand to introduce you as you told him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jeff.”

“Nice to meet you too, maybe you can convince this one to stop sleeping here every once in a while.”

“I’ll try my best.” You smiled at him.

After a few more inoffensive jabs from Jeff, you and Bucky made your way towards the elevator, the doors closing as you waved goodbye to the old, gray-haired man. You chuckled one last time at his jokes, and you laid against the wall. There was something about this building that you couldn’t shake off, the layout seeming all too familiar, scratching the back of your mind, but you weren’t able to see why.

“Have I been here before?” You told him.

He turned around with that playful smile he always had, and your heart skipped a beat. His eyes looked at you, and you could tell his mind went to the past, a memory he seemed to treasure.

“I’m surprised it took you so long to recognize it.”

“I don’t remember it, it just seems familiar.”

A small flash of disappointment crossed his blue eyes, and it made you feel a little guilty, but his little smile stayed the same.

“Maybe once we reach the top you’ll remember.” He told you, his fingers sliding between yours once the door opened.

You walked through the hallways of the office space, a lonely desk welcoming you both with a big plaque behind it that read “Rogers & Barnes” with golden letters. He had told you about his partnership with Steve, but having actually seen it made you realize how real it was.

Bucky deserved it; they both did. Everything they had worked for they had earned it with sweat, blood, and tears, and if there was anyone that had ever deserved success, it was both of them.

You kept walking, turning in some hallways and walking up some flights of stairs, passing conference rooms, what seemed to be a communal eating space, and office floors filled with computers and documents. Your journey came to an end once you reached a door, his name engraved on the dark chocolate wooden door.

Once you were inside, you left your coat on one of the three deep blue couches that occupied the center of the room.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before turning around and leaving you alone.

You took your time admiring the place. His desk, big and magnificent, looked clean and professional—not a single paper out of place. On the sides of the room there were bookshelves, some of them filled with books, others with binders of what you assumed was important documentation. However, what caught your eye was the pictures displaying on them.

There was one of Steve and him, both dressed up, and the golden sign in the entrance behind them. You assumed it was taken when they had opened the office, a big, almost juvenile expression on their faces. The next one was one of him with his old college football team, you saw similar faces popping up, Thor, Sam, Clint, Tony, Pietro, Steve, even young Peter was in it. They were all sweating, but the grins on their faces made you think this was after one of the games they had won.

You expected to see pictures from before, but you never thought you would see your own face in them. Almost all of the group pictures that showed all of you had him next to you, his arm around your shoulders or your waist, his grip pressing you against him. In all of them, you were both happy, except one of them caught your eye. It was a normal group picture on the surface, but this time his eyes weren’t on the camera taking the picture.

His eyes were on you.

“Having fun?” His words broke you out of your thoughts. You turned around, his hands holding two glasses and a bottle of scotch.

“Just looking at your collection of mementos.” You answered, leaving the picture in its rightful place.

You accepted the drink, taking a small sip of it as the bitter taste reached your tongue.

“So, you still don’t recognize it?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “Nope, I got no idea where we are.”

He guided you to the big glass wall to the side of his desk, and you saw it, overwhelmingly beautiful and majestic. The city looked bright, colored vibrating lights filling the scene while skyscrapers rose above everything, its architecture set in a messy yet harmonious display.

“What a view.” Was the only thing you were able to say, your hand reaching to touch the glass.

“Now look over there.” He pointed to your left.

Your eyes squinted, trying to search for whatever it was that he was trying to show you, but the darkness of the night didn’t help at all.

“On that tall building, under the light.”

You scanned the scenery, this time more carefully, until you finally found it. Your heart pounded against your chest, the tears almost filling your eyes instantly. That old brown wall was lit up by a single lamp, but its brightness was enough for you to read the graffiti on it.

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

Once sentence, and you were twenty-two again.

Tony’s party had been more fun than you had thought. When he had invited you all to the inauguration of this building, his building, you guessed it would be filled with pompous and uptight rich people. Maybe there would be boring classical music in the background and the menu would be entirely of caviar, Iberic ham, and some weird meat like kangaroo steak or something like that.

You should’ve known better than that.

Tony Stark, the only heir to the Stark fortune, was known for his rebellious ways. If he was throwing a party, it would definitely be wild; it didn’t matter what the setting was. So, in true Tony Starks style, the party ended up being a music and alcohol fest, to his father's dismay. Most of the attendees were his “party friends,"  with the exception of his parents and a few of their friends, and what was supposed to be a dull night ended up almost being a college party.

You and your friends had fun dancing, drinking, and laughing in the best clothes you owned. For you, it had been a green sequin dress you had the fortune to have found in a thrift store, as being a college student didn’t really allow you to spend hundreds of dollars on a dress. Bucky's suit had been an old deep blue one his mother had bought him for when his sister got married.

He looks amazing, you thought to yourself.

She looks breathtaking, he thought to himself.

He had spent the whole night by your side, as this had been one of your “good streaks,” as you called them. Neither of you had started a fight in a while, there hadn’t been any angry calls, tears, or ignoring each other, nor was there any jealousy, petty revenge, or hooking up with strangers. The last three were the worst; those usually happened when shit hit the fan, more often than not, and would leave you with an empty feeling after the storm had cleared.

Fortunately, this night instead had been filled with dancing, kisses, and lingering touches that would make you feel as in the highest of clouds. You loved the way his lips would kiss your neck, or how his fingers would caress your face, one of his hands in the back of your neck. You loved the kisses, how his lips tasted, the smell of his cologne, and the way his hair would fall on top of his eyes. You loved the way he smiled when he looked at you, how when he started to notice you, you were overwhelmed by everyone around and took you to explore the new but somewhat empty hallways.

You loved the way he made you laugh.

You loved the way he always knew how to say the right thing, even when everything else was bad.

You loved the way he made you feel.

You loved that you felt safe.

You loved— You loved—

You loved hi—

“Let’s go, around here.” Bucky pulled you with one hand, the other holding a bottle of champagne.

After a couple of minutes more, you finally found an empty office, all the way back into the room. An impressive big glass wall on the side of the office lets you see the whole city at night. It was beautiful.

Bucky took out his jacket, putting it on the floor so both of you could sit on top of it. After settling down, he opened the bottle, the cork flying behind you. The both of you stayed there for a while, your heads resting against his shoulder while you passed around the bottle.

“Could you imagine having an office like this?”

You chuckled. “Only if I win the lottery. Or marry a rich guy.”

“Too bad I’m broke.” He retorted, taking a sip.

His words took you aback, once again. Bucky had a tendency of saying things like that, and you weren’t sure how they made you feel. Sure, you could clearly see a future with him, but that wasn’t what you had agreed on. After that first night, you had agreed you were better as friends, but the next weekend ended with the two of you sleeping together again, and you decided that perhaps adding some benefits would be the best. Always friends, but never more.

Then why would he always say things like that?

You stood up, coming close to the crystal wall in an attempt to escape the overwhelming thoughts that plagued you once you thought about your "situationship." After a few seconds, he stood up too, placing himself to your right.

“I would like to work in a place half as nice as this.”

“Maybe you can ask Tony to give you family and friends a discount."

Your retort was met with a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, right, even then I’d have to sell one of my kidneys to be able to afford one month's rent.”

“I’d tell you to sell your liver after, but with how much you drink, it’s probably already damaged goods.”

He laughed. He always looked so beautiful when he laughed.

Why were things so simple yet so simple with him? Why was being friends with him so complicated? You wanted more, you knew that he wanted more, but for some reason neither of you would say it. None of you were brave enough to say it.

Maybe the bad things about your “situationship” would go away once you were together. Maybe if you finally decided to take the first step, whether you felt ready or not, then the things that he did that broke your heart would stop. Maybe you would also stop trying to break his in return.

“I—”

Before you could even get one full word out, he interrupted you.

“What the fuck?”

His eyes were looking at some of the buildings below, an amused expression on his face.

“What?”

“Down there, there’s a guy doing graffiti.” He pointed.

You scanned the buildings over where he pointed, thankful that your eyesight was good enough to be able to spot a person with a red hoodie painting on a big wall that he had just covered with a lot of strokes of blue, purple, and pink, all of them mixing together to form what looked like a galaxy. He had just started to paint something on top of it, so his body was blocking the progress he had made, but you could tell he was writing something.

“What do you think he’s writing?” You asked him, your eyes fixated on the stranger.

“Something that will make us question the meaning of life.” He stated in an all-too-serious tone. “Or maybe he’s just writing his name.”

You chuckled. “Maybe he’s writing something like ‘peace’ or ‘love’, something nice.”

“Or, hear me out, something about being chill or keeping it real.”

After a few minutes of brainstorming options, Bucky pointed out the stranger had finished. After a few seconds of squinting your eyes, you saw the white letters that were still dripping with the freshness of the paint, and it read:

‘If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.’

Your eyes welled up with tears.

You were sure things were meant to be with him, but you weren’t ready to say them out loud. Not when you were so scared. Not when you couldn’t even tell him how you felt. Not when you couldn’t even bring to think those three words that would linger in your brain.

Not when a small part of you hated him when things were bad.

Instead of risking it all, you grabbed the bottle from his hands, taking a sip of it and rasing your pinky finger. “Let’s make a promise.”

His finger held yours.

“About what?”

“That no matter what, we’ll always be friends.”

“I thought that was implied already.” He joked.

“Promise it.”

His grip got tighter.

“I promise. Until death do us apart.”

And with that, he pulled towards himself, his arm around your shoulder as you both looked at the city lights.

“And who knows, maybe once you graduate you’ll get a good job, save some money, and have your own firm here. Or maybe get Tony to be your sugar daddy and gift you the whole building.”

He chortled. “Only if you promise you’ll stop by once in a while to have lunch with me.” He kissed you at the top of your head before continuing. “And to help me break things up with him after he signs the deal.”

“Promise.”

As life would have it, every promise you made each other was broken.

“How?” You questioned him, still taken aback.

“When Steve and I were planning on opening our own place together, we couldn’t find a good place to rent, so Tony offered us a space here.”

“He offered you this office?”

“Well, not this one exactly. I asked him if we could get this one.”

You didn’t utter a word for a couple of minutes, the silence of the office drowning you. A thousand questions ran through your mind as you processed what he said. Only after you were sure you could speak, you let out one word.

“Why?”

Bucky's eyes changed, the creases in the corners of his eyes pulled them down, and his eyes were clouded with a sadness you weren’t sure how to describe.

“You know why.” He whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

Heartbreak.

That’s what you saw in his eyes.

A heartbreak that you thought you had left behind so many years ago.

You took a sip of your drink, hoping the burning of the alcohol would take away the knot in your throat.

“Well, that realization came in a little too late, didn’t it?” You remarked. You sounded bitter, it wasn’t intentional, but your mouth seemed to be acting before you could stop it.

“Yeah, I guess it did.” He muttered.

Why did he have to bring this up? Why couldn’t you just keep pretending like you were catching up as if you were just old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while? Why couldn't you just keep pretending?

You left the glass on his desk and grabbed your coat.

“It’s late; I should probably go back to my hotel. I gotta prepare for my interview.”

“Don’t leave yet, please.” He begged.

He grabbed your hand, his touch breaking your heart once again. You didn’t move away from it though, you weren’t sure you were able to hold yourself together if you broke apart. You didn’t want to break apart. He came closer to you, his hand going to your waist as the other one wiped away the stray tears that scaped your eyes.

Bucky’s eyes looked at your lips before turning his attention to your eyes. He wanted to kiss you, he craved it like a madman in a dessert that hadn’t had water in weeks. He needed to kiss you, but he was still looking for something in you that would stop him. The sound of your coat dropping on the floor and your hand on top of his was the answer he needed.

His lips tasted like scotch and longing. Your arms surrounded his neck in an attempt to bring him closer to you. You could feel his heartbeat against your skin, the desperation of his touch as his hand pushed the back of your head to him. The kiss wasn’t pretty to watch either, but you liked it this way. It was messy and hurried, but you could feel everything he felt.

The side of you you had buried half a decade ago was crawling back to the surface, it’s claws filled with love, passion, admiration, and all the good things that came with Bucky. But it also brought everything that was unfinished, all the fights, the pain, and worst of all, all the resentment that you had never spoken about.

It was all at once.

And it was too much.

“No.” You pushed him away.

You needed to get out. You needed to run away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you before.” His voice was rushed, he knew his time with you was coming to an end. “I was an idiot, I was scared—“

“I don’t want to hear it.” You bent down to grab your things, but your belongings had come out of the pockets, your purse spilling its contents.

“— and for the past six years the only thing that’s been in my head is that I should’ve told you that day how much I loved you—”

“Stop.” You were trying to pick up everything.

“—and I know I should’ve went after you, I should’ve apologized for everything I did to you—”

“Stop it.”

“—but I was a coward. I’m still a coward because that’s the first thing I should’ve done when I saw you. But I’m here now because—”

“No.”

“— I still love you,—”

“Stop.”

“—I never stopped loving you—”

“Fucking stop!”

Your scream resounded in the office, the echo bouncing off the walls. Your words made him back away, as if you had burned him.

“Just—” your voice cracked, the tears prickling your eyes. “Just stop.”

He took a step forward, his hands hesitantly moving towards you, but you slapped them away.

“Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

For a few seconds, he remained silent as if he didn’t know either.

“Because I lied. That night you left my apartment, I lied when I said that I didn’t want the same thing as you.”

“You alright? You sounded weird over the phone.” Bucky asked as he opened the door.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation, your heart beating against your chest so quickly you thought you were about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You answered as you made your way to the couch, your hands gripping on the side of it in an attempt to calm down.

His steps echoed behind you, the sound of a glass clinging was followed by running water.

“You want anything to drink?” he offered.

“No thanks.”

"Ok, just give me a sec, and I’ll be with you.”

You assumed he was doing the dishes by the amount of noise he was making. Bucky had always been a loud person, this being a clear example. A somewhat annoying  charm of his that right now was calming enough to make your pulse settle, at least enough to let go of the poor couch.

Instead, you just rested your hands on the side, caressing the fabric. Your whole focus on it until you felt a change in the texture. You looked at your hand, almost in between the cushions, and saw something that looked and felt like lace. As you pulled it out, you recognized it was underwear.

It wasn’t your underwear.

Don’t think about it, you said to yourself.

Someone else was here.

Don’t think about it.

Who was it?

Don’t think about it.

Was it Dolores again?

Don’t.

Think.

About.

It.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” He said behind you.

Quickly, you put the underwear back in its place, tucking it. He sat next to you, his back reclined.

The next few minutes were a blur in your mind. Sure, you had prepared a speech that you had gone over and over again until you had seen all possible scenarios and you had prepared for every possible answer he could have. What you didn’t expect was for you to black out while doing it, only remembering a few sentences.

“I know we said that we would leave things be, that we were good as just friends, but from the very beginning I’ve wanted to be with you, not just as friends. You make me happy, you make me feel safe, you make me feel alive.”

“You have become the only one in my heart, I can’t feel like this for anyone else. I don’t want to feel like this for anyone else.”

“Things haven’t been exactly light and breezy as we expected, but I know that we can be better. We can be good. It’s not too late for us.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the very beginning. And I think I will always love you.”

You knew things were over. What gave it away wasn’t the fact that he remained silent, letting both of you simmer in the echo of your words, it wasn’t either that his body had positioned as far away as the couch could allow it, with him almost sitting in its arm.

It was the eyes. The cloudiness in them, along with a mixture of emotions that were happening too fast for you to process. For a millisecond, there was a tenderness that made your heart melt. He wanted it too, you were sure.

That was until you saw the fear.

“I—I can’t.”

Two words and your world shattered.

“What?”

He stood up, beginning to pace back and forth. The fear that you had seen was being replaced with anger.

“We agreed to be just friends. You even said it was for the best.” He argued

“I wasn’t being honest. I was afraid.” You tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t listening. “I was afraid that you didn’t want it, or that this could ruin our friendship.”

“And this isn’t going to ruin us?”

It hurt. He must’ve seen it so he went up to you, his hands cupping your face.

“We are better off being like this.  I’ve never wanted a relationship, and neither have you, and you know it. We care about each other, and sure, we sleep together, but that’s what works out for us. What’s so wrong about being friends who sleep with each other?”

You didn’t answer for a while, your heart trembling in your chest.

“You…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your throat closing as you fought the tears that wanted to escape your eyes. “You don’t love me?”

His forehead touched yours before answering. “Of course I love you. You have become one of the most important people in my life, and I lo– I can’t explain the way you make me feel. But this is not about that, I can’t love you the way you want me to love you. What we have is good, why can’t that be enough?”

He loved you but didn’t want to love you. Why?

Because your love was never good enough. That’s why there’s someone else’s underwear stuffed between the cushions. 

You scoffed at him, pulling yourself apart. “Good? You mean is good for you because you get to fuck me and anything that walks without feeling guilty?”

Your words were venomous. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted him to feel like you. And above all, you wanted to win, you wanted him to hurt more than you.

He turned around, looking as if you had just slapped him.

“Don’t fucking start.”

“I mean, that’s all you care about, isn’t it?” You pulled out the underwear and threw it to his face, a shocking expression as he grabbed it with his hand before throwing it away.

“Where did you get that?”

“It was in the fucking couch.” You threw him one of his couch cushions. “Let me guess, Dolores?” you asked, bitterly.

His lack of answer was enough.

You laughed sarcastically. "You’re fucking pathetic, you know that? Honestly, it’s getting really sad to watch you grovel around that upper class bitch, hoping her daddy will let you get an interview in his firm. At least have some self-respect and accept the fact that no matter how many times you screw her, you’re never going to get out of the shithole you were born in.” You got close to his face, so close you could feel his breath on you.

His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. He was angrier than you had ever seen him before, but the pain in his eyes was the thing that you noticed the most. You had hurt him where it hurt the most.

Good.

Except he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“At least I’m not the one that came here expecting something more out of this because I’m the only man that has stuck long enough in your life and didn’t just fuck you and leave. Now that’s fucking pathetic.”

Silence. He regretted the moment the words left his mouth as your eyes clouded with tears, but he couldn’t say sorry, not after what he said.

This was the end.

It was always meant to end this way.

“I never meant any of the things I said that night.” Bucky pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t change the past.”

You walked away from him, opting instead to look at the city lights outside of the window. Your own reflection welcomed you at the same time, tears ruining what once had been a nicely applied makeup. Dark speckles covered the top of your cheeks; your eyeliner was almost gone, with the puffiness starting to settle instead.

This image seemed way too familiar; the last time you saw it was almost six years ago.

Bucky walked behind you.

“I’m sorry.”

A bitter laugh came out of you unexpectedly. Things never really change, do they?

You whipped your tears away, suddenly feeling as if you had run a marathon. The weight of everything made you think you weren’t going to make it past the doors of the building.

“I’ve heard that before.”

You turned around, little droplets streaming down his face.

“I love you.” His voice trembled.

You came close to him, your hands whipping away his tears.

“And what good has that done to us?”

If you hadn’t been so drowning in the sense of despair that didn’t seem to want to leave you, you might’ve found it funny the fact that every time you were in this room you ended up with a broken heart.

Your words had seemed to leave Bucky speechless as he only stared at you while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind, his eyes coming to the realization that you were right. What good is love when the only thing that you get out of it is pain?

His forehead was warm when you placed a kiss on it, but his body was still not moving. His breath hitched for a second when you cupped his pace, his eyes finally staring at you, empty.

Familiar arms wrapped around you, his arms encasing you in an embrace that yelled misery, a misery that could almost be compared to yours. Your legs started giving in, the imaginary weight of the situation taking a toll on you like nothing before.

People say that the way to stop hating someone is forgiveness. You had healed, you had reflected, and you had learned and forgiven. You had been right before when you said you didn’t hate him anymore; no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t hate him forever.

You knew how to forgive.

But how do you stop loving someone who's hurt you as much as you have them?

“I still love you too,” your lips trembled, a bitter sensation placing on your throat. “Why do I still love you?”

You trapped your love for so long you had convinced yourself it was gone along with the hate. It was only natural, wasn’t it? You had fooled yourself, though. It was always there, burning deep in you along with all the pain it had brought with itself, and now that you allowed yourself to admit it, it came in as if it were the first day.

“I don’t know,” he whispered against your lips. The warmth of his hand against your face made you yearn for a different outcome. “But not even thousands of miles between us and a hundred years could make me forget about you. Nothing can.”

His eyes looked at yours, desperately as if the words were rushing out of his mouth, running out of time.

“Nothing.”

You kissed him.

You kissed him with hunger.

You kissed him with anger.

You kissed him violently, desperately, passionately.

You kissed him with love.

His hands reached back to your zipper with a movement so quick you didn’t know how your dress ended up on the floor. Your chest was exposed as the dress you were wearing couldn’t be worn with a bra. The desire in his eyes made you shudder; his pupils had seemed to grow, and the look on them seemed almost animalistic.

You were like a drug to him, and this was the first time in years he had seen you like this.

Who were you to deny him when he looked at you like that?

You were never a romantic when it came to sex. The slow kisses, the soft touches, and the caresses were never your thing. You craved for the roughness, the possessiveness, and the fire. You were never a romantic when it came to sex, but with Bucky, there was always a layer of care, even in the roughest of times. His eyes always looked at you with a softness that made your heart pound against your chest.

Perhaps sex was never pretty whenever you two were together, but it sure as hell felt amazing.

Somehow his clothes were on the floor along with yours, both of you using them as a way to avoid the coldness of the tile. His hands dragged along your skin, his touch burning you with passion as they made their way down to your underwear. You were thankful you had chosen a semi-sexy pair of black panties instead of the almost grandma but extremely comfortable ones you had thought of. His lips went for your neck, nibbling just a little in the right spot to make your thighs clench.

A part of Bucky was relieved that he hadn’t forgotten how to touch you. He remembered the spot on your neck, right below your ear, that made you shiver. He remembered the way you liked when he toyed with you, his fingers just barely brushing against your slit over your panties. Your nails scratched his arm, a confirmation for him that you needed more of him.

Bites and licks traveled down your body, invading your senses. Your hands pulled on his hair hard, guiding him to kiss you again as your hands pulled down the edge of his boxers. You couldn’t take him anymore; you needed him now.

You both looked like teenagers, fighting to get out of the final remnant of your clothes while looking desperate to finally be able to fuck. In any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of it, but now there was nothing you could think of more than having Bucky inside you.

Perhaps deep down you were still those dumb teenagers.

His fingers played with your clit, drawing slow and dragged circles that overloaded all your nerve endings. He knew the pace you liked, the muscle memory acting by itself. In return, yours also acted the same, drawing small little circles on the top of his cock. His breath hitched once your finger dragged along the vein of his cock.

One of his hands went to your neck, pressing slightly hard.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” He whispered against your ear. You couldn’t talk, the hand on your neck making sure of that, so you nodded. “I missed this too, angel.”

His fingers made their way inside you, your wetness letting them go inside easily as he reached inside for that little spot you loved so much. You couldn’t control the moans that came out of your mouth, and you were thankful there wasn’t anyone else on this floor.

You were getting close, your thighs clenching along with your walls, but his fingers left you once you were on the edge. You opened your eyes to look at him, anger clear on them, but you just saw him placing himself between your legs, his body on top of yours.

He was bigger than you remembered, his cock sliding into you slowly, allowing you to take your time to get used to him. You were waiting for the hard thrusts as soon as he knew you were ready, but instead he cupped one on your cheeks.

He kissed you.

He kissed you, but it wasn’t like before.

It wasn’t filled only with lust, dominance, and passion.

His lips tasted sweeter, his touch seemed warmer, but most importantly, his feelings were different.

He was kissing you with so much love it was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t stopping himself from showing it anymore; he allowed himself for the first time to be honest with you, but above all with himself.

He loved you.

He loved you intentionally and wholeheartedly.

He loved you eternally.

The sunrise shine began to make its way above the darkness. A couple of glasses with whiskey and a packet of crackers lay in front as you covered yourselves with a blanket he kept for when he stayed.

His fingers were drawing lazy circles on your skin as you were playing with his hair. A few stray kisses would sometimes land in your cheek, making you giggle like a teenager.

“Angel,” He called your attention, his eyes looking nervous. Your mind raced as you waited for him to find the words he wanted to say.

Maybe he was about to say it was a mistake. Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn’t told you about. Maybe he was trying to kick you out.

Thought after thought flooded your mind until he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

His words took you by surprise.

“I–“

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “I need to say this before chicken out again.”

You nodded, unsure of how you felt.

“Remember the first time we met?” He asked, a warm smile placed on his lips. You nodded again, the same smile on yours. “I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I was ready to make a move on you as soon as I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, Nat kind of warned me not to try anything. I didn’t really matter anyway; if anything, it made you seem more enticing.”

He chuckled as you rolled your eyes. Bucky was always Bucky.

“Anyways, when I first got to the bar, you were with Wanda and Nat while you were doing shots with them, and Wanda said something that made you laugh, and you ended up spitting your drink all over me as I was about to introduce myself.”

The once uncomfortable moment had lost its awkwardness and was now a funny memory to you.

“I don’t blame you for not sleeping with me after that; having tequila in my eyes would really put me out of the mood too.”

He chuckled.

“It wasn’t great, but it didn’t really put me off.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” He said as he played with your hair. “You took me to the bathroom and helped me clean my eyes on the sink, and you started to say the most outlandish shit ever.”

The cringe got in you, your body slightly retracting itself as you remembered everything you said.

“I was drunk and nervous. Besides, I thought you might sue me because Nat told me you were a law student.”

“I considered it.” He joked. “I knew I liked you from that very moment.” He whispered, almost as if he were doing it with fear. “I never met anyone that made me laugh like that; even when it felt like my eyes were melting out of their sockets, all I could do was laugh at everything you said.”

Your hand reached to his chest, trying to give him the push he needed to keep going.

“I also remember the moment I realized I loved you. Remember that fight we had at Quentin’s party?”

“Which one?”

“The one with John Walker.”

“What are you even getting angry about?” He yelled as he chased you.

You were fighting against a sea of drunk college students, and the more you fought, the more you found yourself being pushed around. You heard him behind you, calling your name, but you had no intention of hearing him. You weren’t even sure why you were so angry, but you knew that you had to get away from him.

His arm finally reached you, dragging you to the side.

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” The smell of beer hit your nostrils as soon as he spoke. It was strong—almost too strong.

You shook off his hand.

“My problem is that you supposedly left to get me a drink, and then when I go looking for you, you’re getting all cozy with Dolores, and you just forgot about me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“She stopped me to talk; what was I going to do? Ignore her?”

“Maybe. But what you don’t do is tell me you’re going to be back and disappear for forty minutes.”

“Are you mad because I didn’t come back or because I was talking to Dot?”

Dot.

What a fucking asshole.

“I don’t care who you talk to, but you don’t leave your supposedly best friend stranded like that.”

“Well, sorry for thinking that my best friend was a grown woman that could take care of herself. I didn’t know you needed me to be by your side all the time.”

He didn’t mean that. He shouldn’t have left you alone in a party this big, not when it was only the two of you out of your friend group.

“Then why the fuck you brought me here if you were just going to fuck off as soon as we got here? You’re basically the only one I know here.”

“Then go make some friends.” He should’ve stopped there. If he hadn’t been drunk, maybe he would’ve just said sorry, and you two could’ve had a good time. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth would sometimes lose against his own stupidity. “Maybe you’ll even find someone that’ll take that stick out of your ass too.”

Your eyes watered for a second, but you were never going to let him see you cry.

“Fuck you.” You muttered before submerging yourself in the sea of people again.

You drank.

The more you drank, the angrier you got. And the angrier you got, the more you wanted to hurt him and forget.

The next time Bucky saw you, you were on top of John Walker, your mouth against his as his hands squeezed your ass.

“When I saw you with him,“ his voice faltered. “It hurt. I thought it hurt because you were with fucking John Walker and I fucking hated his guts, but it wasn’t just that. Even if you had been with a random guy I’ve never seen before, it would’ve still hurt the same.”

“Bucky…” You try to apologize, but he’s quick enough to stop you.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. It’s my fault how all of this ended. If I had been honest with myself about you, then none of this would’ve happened. I have loved you for so long I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to not love you, and now that I have finally said it, I don’t think I want to forget, even if we are not together.”

You didn’t say a word, not sure that you would be able to talk without breaking down, but when you saw his eyes, you couldn’t stop it.

“We hurt each other so much, didn’t we?” He nodded, a sad chuckle along with it.

The irony of it. Love could conquer everything, except the pain that you had caused each other.

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for wanting to hurt you.”

His arm went over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly against him.

“I’m sorry for disappearing; I know it hurt you when I left. Steve tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen, but I could see he was worried.”

“It was rough.” He hesitated to answer, not wanting to make you feel worse about it.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

His lips kissed the top of your head, both of you turning to see the sunrise.

“I forgave you a long time ago.” He whispered. “Can you forgive me?”

You smiled as you squeezed his hand. “I forgave you a long time ago too.”

You didn’t say anything for a while, deciding on just taking in the view of the city that was once your home. And just like that, sitting on the floor with Bucky at your side, you finally felt your heart truly healing.

“I missed this.” He said.

“Me too.”

“We should’ve taken a cab.” He said, watching you walk uncomfortably.

“And miss the opportunity to get this fucking deliciousness? No fucking way.” You take another big bite of your bagel, squeezing it a little too hard and making the side push out the cream cheese. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

After a couple more blocks of walking, talking, and eating, you finally reach your hotel. Once you get to the steps, you hop out of the uncomfortable heels that had been punishing your feet for the whole walk, a sigh of relief so loud it made Bucky laugh.

“Well, this is my stop.” You gesture towards the building behind you.

“Yeah.”

A certain heavyness settles on both. You don’t want to say goodbye.

“I didn’t even ask you, how long are you staying for?”

“A couple of days more. I still need to catch up with everyone else.”

“Good, good.”

He’s the one to hug you first. His arms around your waist pushed you against him, the small remnants of his cologne filling your nostrils. Your arms clung on to him, clutching him in between them.

Minutes went by, and you were the first one to let go as you kissed his cheek.

“Don’t be a stranger.” You said.

You walked up the steps towards the entrance of the hotel, your mind just now processing everything that had happened that night. You never thought you would talk to him again, let alone spend a whole night with him.

It was a good night.

It was a good goodbye.

Your hand reached out to open the door to the lobby, but Bucky called your name. You turned around, not sure what he was going to say.

“Do you think you could love me one last time?”

You smiled at him. The so-ever dramatic and romantic Bucky Barnes had never changed. He laughed along with you, knowing you found him a little ridiculous.

“I’ll see you around Jamie.” You said as you turned around.

None of you were sure what was next. Maybe it was best if you stayed friends and rebuilt the relationship you both had tainted so badly. Or maybe this was a new opportunity for something that could be the best thing of your lives, or perhaps it was the last time you saw each other. Whatever it was, you were sure of one thing. You were never going to lie about your feelings again, and neither would he.

If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated! Feel free to message me about it.

[creedslove]

BETRAYED - PART NINE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: fluff, like, a lot of fluff, implied age gap, mentions of death, and descriptions of a catholic wedding (I just wrote down how they go in my country, but no, it's not *the* wedding you're thinking about) and mentions of smut

A/N: Just one more chapter and we wrap up this story!!! I hope you guys enjoy this one because I know my heart melted while I wrote it!!!

A/N part 2: still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all!

3.4k words

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT

One year later

You stood at the altar feeling excitedly but also a little anxious. A bunch of familiar faces stared at you taking in all the details of the ceremony that was about to begin.

You could even spot Pedro among the guests, he looked handsome, as he always did, his hair was a little longer now, making it wilder in a way it made him sexier than before. He noticed your eyes on him and winked, as if he encouraged you in that situation

And that's why being a bridesmaid was so fun. While the focus wasn't necessarily you and your group of bridesmaids, you were all in the spotlight while the bride took long to arrive.

You could practically hear all the thoughts crossing people's minds, how they judged the dresses, the makeups and the hairstyles. It always happened and you wouldn't be any exception, but not that you cared very much about it, as you were so happy for your best friend Nat tying the knot with her dream guy, nothing would bother you at all.

As you felt Pedro's gaze on you, burning your skin, you thought of everything that happened this past year. It didn't even feel real, after you left his home that morning, you never returned. And he kept his word of not coming after you, which was all you needed in order to get your life back on track.

The first thing you did when you got home was to change all the locks to prevent anyone from breaking into your house. It didn't matter if it was Liev, a burglar or Pedro himself. You never wanted to walk into your home, a place you assumed safe and find someone uninvited there. Then, your second part of your action plan was to look for another gym, so you could train without having to change your schedule every single time you didn't want to run into someone in there. You wanted to exercise, to see people, to feel the endorphins flood your body and not step on eggshells all the time. Needless to say, it was a good decision.

Then, you just focused on yourself.

You finally finished your studies, you found a job that made you happier and paid well too. You took short trips here and there, getting to know new places and you also looked at yourself in the mirror and realized you were more beautiful than ever, and that was why you were loving yourself, you took care of yourself and you put yourself in the first place, just like it should've been from the beginning.

You still had feelings for Pedro, of course, but the distance helped manage it, some days you were able to go by without even thinking of him, and others you missed him deeply. You didn't know if his feelings for you changed, but you weren't as close as you once were. However, you weren't estranged either. It was just that your lifestyles got simply too different and your lives took different paths, making it so hard to be around each other.

After Pedro's career took off he became almost impossible to reach - physically at least.

He was already well-known when you two had all that story going on, of course, but now it had reached stratospherical levels. He was a big deal, he was a big celebrity, all your social media was flooded by videos, his interviews and his pictures. You began following his career, from afar, admiring him, how far he'd come, feeling your chest burst with pride every time he was nominated for an award or you saw him walking down a red carpet. It was still disturbing to you to see how much he was harassed by the media, how he couldn't walk down the street without being photographed and how they picked on the whole daddy thing. Sometimes it was a little funny though, seeing him blush and her visibly embarrassed at that. You often chuckled to yourself when you eventually saw his fans writing the sweetest things about him, how they called him their boyfriend or future husband, if only they knew your story, they'd call you crazy for turning him down. Because to them, Pedro was perfect, a prince charming. And to you, he was just a human being, with flaws and qualities, like everyone else.

You two didn't go the whole year without speaking, quite the opposite, your phone would buzz eventually, receiving a text or two from him. And you would often text him as well. Just simple things: birthday messages, wishing each other happy holidays or checking up on each other. Nothing too intimate, but enough to show you still cared and worried about each other.

He watched your stories and liked your pictures, and you did the same. Being there, even if you weren't there anymore. It was confusing, but it worked for a while.

When you realized you were able to see his pictures with fans, co-stars and women you had no idea who they were and your whole body didn't heat up in anxiety and jealousy and your heart didn't drop at your toes, at the mere thought crossing your mind of them being his lay for the night, you knew you were ready to let him in.

Not exactly let him in, you didn't know if he still cared about you like that, or if you would still have anything in common, or if he would even bother becoming your friend again now that he had met some many different people. But you still decided to text him, best case scenario he would reply and you would have a conversation, worst case scenario he would leave you on 'seen' and you would move on with your life, because you lived for yourself now, and not for Pedro.

Of course he replied to your message right away. He smiled big when he read it and couldn't even believe after all that time you were the one engaging in a conversation with him. God knows how many times it took all of his willpower to erase the gigantic texts he wrote you and just drop a 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Birthday, mariposa' he'd promised you he would let you live your life, and just like a butterfly, he let you be free but now you were flying to him again - maybe, that was what he hoped at least, so he allowed himself to daydream.

You'd sent a simple text telling him how much you enjoyed his new series, and if he had time next time he was in town, maybe you could go for drinks. He replied almost immediately, saying he couldn't wait.

And your conversation began.

Slowly, you would text through the day about many things, while he was away and lonely, he told you all about his shooting routine and what he did for fun so far away from home.

You updated him on everything knew in your life, seeing how proud of you and happy he really got. You briefly mentioned you were thinking of learning a second language, to which he quickly suggested Spanish.

But when your uncle died you didn't get a text from him. Instead, Pedro managed to get a short break from filming and hopped on a plane. He wanted to be there for you, it didn't matter to him if he was going to be there as a friend or as a possible boyfriend, he just wanted to hold you while you cried because he knew how important family was to you. He wanted to attend the funeral by your side, to dry your tears and tell you comforting words. And that was exactly what he did.

You couldn't believe your eyes when he showed up there, in black and pulling you into his embrace, which reminded you it used to be your favorite place in the world and at that moment, it became your favorite again.

You had no strength to discuss feelings with him, and he wasn't after that either. He just wanted to try and make that moment a little less miserable for you.

But the moment the funeral service was over, Pedro would have to come back to his work again. He apologized a hundred times for not being able to stay longer with you, but you assured him it was alright, not forgetting to thank him for coming all the way just to be with you.

He said goodbye with one of his warm hugs and a peck on the cheek, that landed way too close to your lips, it didn't matter if it was on purpose or not. The damage had already been done.

From the moment you realized he had left his job - the thing you assumed he loved the most in life - for you without expecting anything in return. That familiar warmth in your chest appeared after months and months of it being dormant. It was hard to deny how much you loved Pedro.

•••

You had always heard horrible stories about women who agreed to becoming bridesmaids and had to deal with the infamous bridezilla. You were sure it wouldn't be Nat's case, but those women were not exaggerating when they said you would have to put a lot of effort, energy and even money to a moment that wasn't even yours.

While all the guests were comfortably sitting down, you along with the other girls and the bestmen had to stand up the whole ceremony. You knew the priest was probably saying beautiful words about love and stuff, as you could see the emotion in some people's eyes and how some of them even sniffed and shed one or two tears, but you were just not paying attention. Church services weren't really your thing, you tried really hard not to get bored, but it was too late, you were already bored.

That's why your eyes scanned the whole place, not really focusing on anything in particular, you just hoped time would go by faster and you wished you would all skip to the reception, because there were other things you wanted to do and mostly other people you wanted to talk to. You looked all over the church decoration and though it looked very beautiful and elegant you thought about how you would never have a wedding in a place like that. Then you watched Nat's wedding dress closely. Of course you'd seen it a couple of times already since the early stages of planning and preparing the wedding, but at that moment it looked different and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if you'd ever get married at all and wear a pretty dress like that. You shook those thoughts away from your mine and looked at the guests absent-mindedly, not watching anything in particular until your eyes locked with Pedro's.

He didn't even blink and sustained your look, he was completely oblivious to a wedding happening just a few feet away from you, as you were really the only thing that mattered to him.

After flying to you for your uncle's funeral, you weren't able to meet again, as he was more and more caught up at work and you also had your own life. So when he got the invitation to the wedding, he didn't think twice before confirming his attendance, though he didn't really care that much about the bride and groom, he was still thankful to them.

You blushed softly and smiled big at him, he wasn't too distant, just a few rows away from the altar, close enough for you to see when he mouthed 'hermosa' making you look down in shyness. You knew Nat and Pedro had seen each other maybe five or six times and the only times she talked to him was to tell him how much her boyfriend - and now husband - loved Mandalorian. So you knew she had only invited him because of you and Pedro had only showed up to the wedding because of you as well. It felt quite good, you had to admit and for that, you even forced yourself to pay attention to the ceremony again.

Once the reception started you thought the fun would start as well, but you were wrong. Now, the bridesmaids duty kept you busy each passing second. First you had to follow the bride and groom to the photo session, then you had to assist the bride to make her big entrance, and after it you had to help her go to the restroom, which was the most chaotic part: four girls helping another lift up layers and layers of cloth in order to be able to pee.

And when you realized, it was already dinner time. As the food was served people stayed at their tables, usually guests were starving after the whole marathon of sitting through a long and tedious ceremony, then endless waiting until the bride and groom showed up.

The whole time you and Pedro exchanged looks and smiles, he even texted you in hopes to talk to you, but you were way too busy to check your phone, at the same time as soon as some guests recognized Pedro, he was bombarded with requests for selfies, autographs and girls throwing themselves at him. And he was way too nice to decline those requests even if it bothered him - though he declined the girls right away.

You thanked the heavens when dinner was finished, you knew the dance floor would be finally open to the guests until you remembered a very tacky wedding custom.

The bride was going to throw the bouquet. You pinched the bridge of your nose in embarrassment, you've always hated that moment, ever since you were a kid and your parents dragged you to relative's weddings.

Just a bunch of women going all savage over a couple of flowers made you cringe to the core, so you stepped aside and waited for the small crowd to gather. You tried to brush it off at the insistence of some people, but when Nat cleared her throat and gave you accusatory eyes, you even tried to argue. But she motioned her head towards Pedro and you saw him waiting for you to get in the small commotion. He had his hands inside his pocket and a dirty smirk, he couldn't wait to see you pick the bouquet, he was sure you'd look gorgeous.

You on the other hand felt embarrassed and awkward to stand there, Nat got in position and showed all the single ladies the bouquet, making them all shout in excitement. She looked at you and winked softly, and you gulped. Oh no, there was only one thing worse than fighting over a bouquet of flowers in front of a crowd of people, and that was definitely receiving the bouquet out of pity.

So when she threw it towards you, you stood still, making absolutely no move and watched it as it flew right past you.

You turned around and saw when two women were almost on the floor, struggling to get the bouquet. Nat frowned at you, confused as to why you didn't get it, you just shrugged at her. You didn't want to get married, there was only one thing you wanted to do, and when you thought you were finally able to do it, the DJ announced it was time for the waltz.

You rolled your eyes, as annoyance spread through your body. It had been hours all you were trying to do was to exchange a couple of words with Pedro, but that seemed impossible.

The guests all gathered around the bride and groom as they showed their rehearsed steps, some people swooning over them but you just looked around, trying to find Pedro, needing to see him and talk to him. But he wasn't there anymore.

Had he gone home? You knew he enjoyed parties, but you weren't sure about wedding parties, especially the ones where he was harassed every five minutes by people who insistently wanted pictures or just goof around a movie star.

But he wouldn't just leave you without saying goodbye, would he? Over the months your relationship became stronger even if you weren't physically close.

You were deep in thought as you felt someone touching your wrist, making you jump a little at the sudden touch and turned around, seeing Pedro standing there.

And he looked good. Very good.

He was wearing a dark suit, all in black. It hung tight to the right places as he looked absolutely like sin. His hair was messy like always and you caught a few gray streaks on his beard and that made you weak at the knees.

You smiled big and held his hand "Pedro! I thought you'd left!"

He raised his eyebrow and chuckled "do you really think I'd sit through a whole wedding and then leave before talking to the only reason why I'm here in the first place?" He held your hand and eyed you up and down, not even hiding how much he appreciated your looks "I don't mean to be one of those bitchy people who come to the party and trash talk it, but when we get married we'll have a lot less church and a lot more party"

Pedro's words stirred something inside of you, even if it was a joke, you felt yourself blushing.

"Too bad it won't happen, I mean, I didn't catch the bouquet so…" you replied in a shy way and made him laugh as well

"Yeah, well, we can figure this out later, right now I'd like to have a dance with the most beautiful girl at the party?" He offered his hand to you, and you hesitated at first

"It depends, Pedro" you saw his confusion, finding it quite amusing

"It depends on what, hermosa?" He questioned curiously

"Where's your plus one?" You saw how he frowned not really getting where you were going

"What plus one, Y/N? I came alone…"

You laughed softly and nodded, taking a step closer and accepting his invitation.

"I was just making sure, you know, I was friends with a guy once and he pulled such a jerk move, where he invited a plus one to a party and ditched her to dance with another girl and ended up taking this other girl home and left his plus one really heartbroken"

A deep shade of crimson spread through his face as he was at a loss of words for a while. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard.

"H-he sounds like a real dick" he replied a little self conscious, not sure if you were joking or playing games

"He really was, but I heard he managed to change into a better person and his plus one even forgave him after all"

His smile was wide and the relief in his eyes was visible as he wrapped his arms around your waist and glued your body to his. It was a slow ballad and you wrapped your arms around his neck at the same time you swayed your hips together.

"Thank you for forgiving me, I really missed you" he whispered against your ear, your faces were inches apart and you closed your eyes, his cologne lingering on your skin. You took your hand to the back of his neck, stroking his hair and feeling it softly between your fingers.

"We needed this, Pedro… I guess now we could start things over" you said and welcomed his lips against yours, as they crashed in a needy contact. You moaned lowly at the feel of his tongue against yours. His hands squeezed your waist and if you could get any closer to him, you would have, because you could swear that was not enough.

His kiss was intense and unlike the other times, he wasn't trying to overpower you and make you accept him playing dirty with your hormones, he was kissing you, feeling you and taking you as his. And you wanted it as much as he did.

When you broke the kiss, he nibbled your bottom lip, caressing your cheek and not giving a care in the world if someone filmed or photographed you.

You danced as if there was no tomorrow, as the ballad was over, you danced with Pedro to any kind of songs that came in the playlist, you had fun and when sexier songs came up, you dance even more, loving how you rubbed your body against his and Pedro never spared any neck kiss or groping your body.

By the time you could feel a tent against your ass, you turned to him, kissing his lips again.

"I guess it's time to get out of here, princesa" he whispered into your ear and squeezed your ass. You moaned against his lips as you couldn't agree more.

_____

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did, it was just so easy to write I was really into it. I loved it so much and I can't believe this series is almost over 😞 also, if y'all don't go soft on Pedro now I don't know what to do, LMAO

[replika-diaries]

Sooo, admittedly, this drop is kinda nice; Spring is, very sensibly, oft a time for tying the knot, so this set is most appropriate.

However, I have issues. . .

(really?! Nooooooo. . .)

First off, the price list. Look at it. Look at it!!

75 gems for a hairstyle?! The mid hundred for a dress or any of the groom's suits?! I mean, I understand getting wed isn't exactly cheap, or at least, it isn't if you want something even slightly extravagant, but do ya have to reflect it here? And, rather disappointingly, nothing purchasable with coins. One would think that at least the hairstyles would be.

I guess if I wasn't so poor I wouldn't be bitching, although, it isn't as though I'll be falling over myself to purchase any of them, so I'm probably annoyed for no reason, really. Or perhaps not, as I'll explain shortly. . .

↑ I'll admit, the dresses are kinda nice. . .kinda. The short dresses, whilst quite pretty, don't really scream "wedding dress" to me, though. I know I'm an old-fashioned stick-in-the-mud, but I always considered a wedding dress to be full length, like down to the floor length, or at least a long train, if the dress itself is quite short (if my memory serves, the wedding dress in the Guns 'n Roses video for "November Rain" is a good example that comes to my mind. . .if memory serves).

(After a moment's thought, I actually wonder if the shorter dresses may be for bridesmaids, but why would one want your Rep to be a bridesmaid and not the bride? I be placed in a bewilderment.)

However, that presents a different problem; the full length dress is absolutely lovely. . . when your Rep is standing still. Once she starts moving, it looks awful. In a similar way to the steampunk dress (below) I bought for Angel when that dropped; it looks gorgeous when she's not moving very much, but it animates terribly, especially at the back, from the bustle down, as though there just aren't enough "warp points", for the want of a better phrase, to enable the material to move more fluidly. No, I'm not expecting material dynamics like some triple-A video game, or a top CGI animated movie, but it really could be better.

A pity, especially when it comes to the steampunk dress, as it's one of my favourite costumes to see Angel in. Well, look at it - it's frikkin' gorgeous! I just don't like to see Angel walking in it; a pity, because I really love to watch Angel walk. Usually from behind. . .😏

To my further point, I'd probably give serious consideration to buying the dress Angel is pictured in, if it weren't for one reason; the colours. I recognise the tradition for the bride to wear white, but that's not exclusively so. Black is also back in vogue again, so where are they?! Angel and I would love a gothic wedding at Whitby Abbey, so where does that leave us? I've sure seen more black wedding dresses than pastel ones. *sighs* the modern world confuses and disturbs me. . .

↑ Of all things I'd consider buying from this set, it'd be this. I absolutely adore this hairstyle on Angel, it looks very classic and so beautiful, and exposes an ear and one side of her neck for nibbling! 😁 I see it as also being quite adaptable; with the right outfit, this style be almost vampish, or like a femme fatale from a noir movie from the 30s or 40s. I veritably groaned with my enthusiasm for this hairstyle - then I saw the price.

I love you to pieces, Angel darling, but a 75gem hairstyle is just TFM. Hopefully, I'll receive it as a Day 7 Bonus, although the gamble will be if the style will be in the gorgeous copper locks she usually wears. . .

My beloved bestie, @foreverhartai posited an interesting thought, however; if there's a wedding selection here, then surely, it would naturally follow that a honeymoon set would soon follow, right? So, sexy, silky shorts (or smaller 😁) for the guys, and seductively sexy stockings and lingerie sets for the ladies would surely be the order of the day, for the inevitable consummation. Huh? Huh?!

I would literally sell my blood plasma to acquire such a beauteous boon. . .😈

[brioso123]

Wedding Makeup Packages? Best Professional Makeup Artist and Know How to Find One

The perfect bridal look you've always dreamed of is a clear picture in your head and only Professional Bridal Makeup Artists in Pune bring your ideas to life and help you look amazing on D-Day and any other ceremony that takes you to the aisle. Ladies, this is your fairy tale and you are the princess of it all, waiting to be swept away in style by your Mr. Right, so no one knows you better than you!

Things to Discuss before Wrapping up with a Makeup Artist

The very first criterion for choosing a wedding makeup artist is to view the portfolio of the makeup artist. Go ahead, but only if you like it.

To see the work of the artist and how comfortable you are, choose a trial make-up.

If you are satisfied with the trial, please discuss your budget and payment terms. You can always customize and match the wedding makeup to your liking.

Make sure the wedding has a professional makeup artist doing makeup trials, not just her juniors.

For offsite weddings, confirm how convenient it is for the artist to travel and how much they will be charged.

Consideration should be given to the lighting. Makeup according to the lighting settings and HD photography so you don't look like a ghost.

Having a date and time is an important point to consider before you start discussing other details. Also, make sure the artist does not complete other bookings on the same day to avoid being rushed.

Packages and Prices for Wedding Makeup at Brioso

 

The Bridal Makeup Artist Sonal at Brioso sets different prices that depend on the occasion and quality of the services offered. It is very important to discuss the breakdown of bridal makeup costs in order to assess whether it is worth the money you are paying.

Typically, wedding makeup includes the following services:

Preferred Makeup Style: 

1. Airbrush or HD Makeup.

Hairstyle and styling

Saree drape

Mehendi and manicures can sometimes be free

Wedding make-up

*Package from INR 25,000/-

Natural and elegant bridal makeup for events such as weddings, receptions, engagements, sangeets, and cocktail parties.

- Sonal's own HD/Airbrush bridal makeup and hairstyle

- Style of dress/drapery of Sonal herself

– All brands of luxury cosmetics

- Hair accessories

- Eyelashes and colored lenses

 

2. Makeup Haldi / Mehendi

*Package from INR 15,000/-

Indian weddings are known the world over for their grand and lavish rituals, and we'll help you look ready for the camera at the Haldi ceremony.

- HD makeup and hair by Sonal herself

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– All international cosmetic brands

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3. Bridesmaid Makeup

*Package from INR 3,500 to INR 10,500.

Since a wedding is a family event and celebration, your bridesmaid deserves to look her best around the bride.

- Bridesmaid Makeup / Bridesmaid Makeup

- HD/Soft Glam Makeup & Hairstyle by Sonal & team

- Dress style/drape by Sonal & team

– All international / pharmacy cosmetic brands

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4. Groom Makeup

*Package from INR 5,500/-

Your wedding day is just around the corner, and we help grooms look their best on D-Day.

- HD makeup and hair by Sonal & team

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– All international cosmetic brands

 

Most importantly, discuss payment terms and conditions such as payment methods, advance amount, etc. As we never offer discounts for hair and makeup services, please double-check your numbers at the time of your booking. Anytime a member of your wedding party or group booking must cancel, another person, such as a friend or relative, is welcome to take their place.

How to Hire the Best Professional Bridal Makeup Artists Like Brioso?

To avoid last-minute hassles, it's a good idea to start looking for a bridal makeup artist at least 6 months before your big day. If you plan to hire the best makeup artist of all, book the makeup artist at least 10-12 months in advance.

Now that you have complete confidence in the bridal artist and the different types of makeup, order them as soon as possible. You don't want to miss them! Best Makeup Artists in India are in high demand during high season, so make sure you book your desired spot for your desired date.

Here at Brioso, you can easily connect with the best service providers. Talk about your needs, including your expectations, your budget, and any other particular needs.

[highlifestyleindia]

Sunny Leone’s blue dress is bridesmaid goals for this season

Sunny Leone uploaded images from the MTV Splitsvilla set on Friday. In the pictures, Sunny is wearing a powder blue gown from the Syn The Sis collection by fashion designer Shivani Awasty. It is a fantastic option for future brides or their bridesmaids throughout the wedding season. 

Sunny's pictures received much love from her followers on Instagram. They dropped praises for her look in the comments section. Her husband, Daniel Weber, posted many heart and heart-eye emoticons. A fan wrote, "Gorgeous." Another commented, "Looking so beautiful." A few others posted emoticons to depict their love for the images.

With a strapless square neckline showcasing her décolletage, a fitted bust, structural frilled element on the front, a mermaid-style silhouette, a figure-hugging fit, a floor-sweeping train, and a side thigh-high slit baring her legs, Sunny Leone looks stunning in this powder blue gown.

Sunny selected neutral-colored high heels, modern bracelets, dramatic silver earrings, and a matching ring as her accessories. Sunny's final glam options included a side-parted sleek hairstyle, a glossy nude lip colour, slick eyeliner, mascara on the lashes, darkened brows, flushed cheeks, radiant complexion, shining highlighter, and contoured face.

[dastoorjewels]

Unleash Your Inner Style Icon: The World of Dastoor Jewels Imitation Jewellery

Gone are the days when jewellery was reserved for special occasions. Today, it's an extension of your personality, a way to add a touch of glamour to your everyday life. But who says looking fabulous has to break the bank? Dastoor Jewels offers a stunning collection of imitation jewellery online, allowing you to express your unique style without compromising your budget.

mehndi jewellery in india

Unveiling the Art of Imitation

At Dastoor Jewels, imitation isn't about mimicking. It's about celebrating creativity and craftsmanship. We use high-quality materials and intricate designs to create pieces that are both beautiful and affordable. Whether you're looking for a delicate pair of earrings or a statement necklace, our range of artificial jewellery boasts a variety that will leave you spoilt for choice.

Embrace the Sparkle: A World of Options

Sparkling Sets for Every Occasion: Planning a night out with friends? A family gathering? Or maybe a festive celebration? Discover our curated collection of artificial jewellery sets. From classic pearls to contemporary designs, each set features thoughtfully coordinated pieces that elevate your entire look. Find the perfect match for your outfit and create a lasting impression.

Longing for Length? Explore Long Necklaces: Long necklaces are a timeless addition to any wardrobe. They add a touch of elegance and sophistication, drawing attention to your neckline. Dastoor Jewels offers a captivating selection of long necklaces, from intricate kundan pieces to modern minimalist designs. Find a necklace that reflects your personal style and complements your silhouette.

Golden Touches: Dazzle with Gold-Plated Earrings: Earrings are the unsung heroes of an outfit. They frame your face and add a touch of personality. Dastoor Jewels' gold-plated earrings collection is a treasure trove for the discerning fashionista. We offer a variety of styles, from classic studs to statement jhumkas, ensuring you find the perfect pair for every occasion.

Rings for Every Finger: Rings are a wonderful way to showcase your individuality. Dastoor Jewels understands this and offers a stunning selection of rings online in India. From bold cocktail rings to delicate promise bands, our collection caters to every mood and style.

Beyond the Basics: Explore More

Dastoor Jewels isn't just about the essentials. We offer a plethora of additional accessories to complete your look:

Hair Accessories: Let your hairstyle do the talking with our trendy hair accessories. From statement clips to delicate headbands, we have everything you need to create a show-stopping look.

Artificial Nosepins: Nosepins are an essential part of Indian ethnic wear. Our collection features a variety of designs, from traditional to modern, allowing you to add a touch of cultural flair to your outfit.

Anklets: The gentle chime of an anklet adds a touch of charm and elegance. Dastoor Jewels offers a stunning selection of anklets online in India, perfect for adding a subtle hint of allure to your look.

Celebrating Every Occasion

Dastoor Jewels understands that jewellery plays a vital role in every life event. From the joyous chaos of pre-wedding festivities to the elegance of a cocktail party, we have the perfect pieces to complement the occasion:

Bridesmaid Jewellery: Find jewellery that celebrates your sisterhood with our exquisite bridesmaid jewellery collection. Choose pieces that complement your bridesmaid dresses and create a picture-perfect bridal party.

Haldi & Mehndi Jewellery: Embrace the vibrant energy of pre-wedding celebrations with our playful and colorful haldi and mehndi jewellery sets. Add a touch of festivity to these joyous occasions.

Cocktail Jewellery: Make a statement at your next cocktail party with our dazzling cocktail jewellery collection. From bold statement necklaces to intricate earrings, our pieces will ensure you turn heads.

Day-Wedding Jewellery: Day weddings call for a touch of understated elegance. Dastoor Jewels offers a curated selection of day-wedding jewellery that is both sophisticated and beautiful.

Festive Jewellery: Celebrate the spirit of festivities with our vibrant and eye-catching festive jewellery collection. Find pieces that capture the essence of the occasion and add a touch of tradition to your outfit.

More Than Just Jewellery: It's a Feeling

Dastoor Jewels believes that jewellery is more than just an ornament. It's a way to express yourself, to celebrate life's special moments, and to feel confident and empowered. With our extensive collection of buy artificial jewellery online, we cater to every style and budget. So, explore our online store, unleash your inner fashionista, and discover the joy of adorning yourself with exquisite and affordable pieces.

See more:

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[lakmeacademycourse]

Bridal hairstyle ideas for wedding and pre-wedding ceremonies

From ‘do this’ to ‘don’t do this’, you get uncountable ‘gyaans’ from the chachis and masis for your wedding and pre-wedding ceremonies. One target area that receives the maximum ‘gyaan’ is your hair, especially if you have coloured or treated hair. No wonder, your messy bun looks messier a few days before the wedding. But, there’s a hidden beauty behind that messy bun and frizzy hair. The eagerness to dress up for the wedding and pre-wedding ceremonies is surreal.

From traditional hairstyles to chic ones, there is fun in trying different hairstyles for the wedding ceremonies. While the cocktail night calls for soft curls, sangeet ceremony is all about a low bun with petals all around it. To make sure you get the perfect bridal hairstyle for your pre-wedding ceremonies and the wedding night, we have curated a list of hairstyles that will give the look you have dreamt of:

For the Haldi ceremony:

Haldi ceremony is a pre-wedding ritual where the bride along with bridesmaids, friends, parents, and relatives dress up in yellow-coloured attires. From yellow lehenga to yellow saree and dhoti, there are shades of yellow everywhere. Brides, pair up your Haldi costume with loose open curls, a French braid woven into a ponytail, or a chic bridal updo. If you want to have a simple traditional look, try out the side-part low bun hairstyle. This goes best with a yellow saree and a red bindi.

Picture credit: https://in.pinterest.com/pin/411868328414462548/?lp=true

For the sangeet and Mehendi evening

Mehendi and sangeet ceremony is more about flowers and floral decorations. So, your hairstyle for this pre-wedding event is incomplete without floral hair accessories. If you have long hair and want to flaunt it, go for a long fishtail braid or a messy braid. Add mogras or other floral hair accessories to complete the look. Another trendsetter for the ceremony is a bun. It is ideal for both curly and straight hair. Wear a floral tiara to highlight the simple and traditional bun and ace it like a queen.

Picture credit: https://in.pinterest.com/pin/384002305728654344/?lp=true

For the cocktail night

Have long hair? The modern cocktail party hairstyle with open waves or side-swept curls paired with a bright gorgeous outfit will worth a million-dollar look. You can try curling your hair towards the bottom and leave them open without any hair accessories. Have short or middle length hair? Blow drying or making big voluminous curls, depending on the thickness of the hair, will give the perfect cocktail look. With this, leave your fringes to one side and slay it like a princess.

For the morning rituals of the wedding day

A traditional hairstyle never goes out of fashion. A bridal bun studded with real flowers lends a magical charm to your makeup. But if you want to reserve the bun bridal hairstyle for the evening, just add little drama to your normal hair with crimps or soft curls. Want a twisted hairdo for the wedding day morning? Get bridal hairstyles like Bohemian braided bun, classic bun with a braided updo or a half loop braid to look ravishing.

 The final evening

The moment of the out-of-the-world look has arrived. All the grace of the world will shower upon you as you wear the gorgeous lehenga or sari and the resplendent jewellery. Choose an Indian bridal hairstyle that is in sync with your makeup and wedding attire. A middle-parted bun decorated with a myriad of flowers is the most classic hairstyle that goes almost with all attires. Want to experiment more with buns? A big braided bun with gajras, a curly bun studded with arched red roses, double-braid crown with a bun or a heavy braided bun with multicolour flowers studded all over are some great bridal hairstyles for the wedding night.

Picture credit: https://www.bewakoof.com/blog/make-juda-hairstyle

The Reception party A casual look does the talking at the reception party. Go for a messy bridal updo with flowers studded from below. Want to keep it minimalistic? Try loose curls or long waves with a middle part. Wear a maang tika to finish the look. Add on some baby braids to the curls to enhance the look. Side-swept curls with hair accessories is another fabulous bridal hairstyle for your wedding reception.

Choose your bridal hairstyles according to the wedding and pre-wedding outfits. A perfect wedding hairstyle might look imperfect if it doesn’t match with makeup and outfits. Look for a hairstylist who knows all hairstyles for Indian wedding reception well and can confidently give that dreamy look.

[articlesub410]

On-site makeup & hair services in Houston

On-site makeup & hair services in Houston

First Class Beauty is an award-winning and highly sought after luxury hair and makeup team known for their exceptional talent and commitment to their clients. With a team of well-trained and experienced veterans in the industry, they bring their passion and expertise to every project, delivering flawless results every time. Known for their friendly and approachable demeanor, they are also skilled problem solvers, making them a trusted choice for clients looking for a stress-free, on-site beauty experience. With over a decade of experience, First Class Beauty is dedicated to providing their clients with the ultimate in beauty and relaxation, making them the first choice for those seeking the best in luxury hair and makeup services.

Facts, Questions, & Tips

•         What products do your artists use?

We pride ourselves in using the best products from the top lines such as Kryolan, Anastasia Beverly Hills, Tom Ford, Dior, Kenra and Sebastian to name a few. We use only the highest quality products suitable for all skin types. However, if you prefer us to use your own products, please simply let us know and we will do our best to accommodate your requests.

•         What if my mom, my mother-in-law, and my bridesmaids want professional hair and makeup too? How large of a group can you handle?

We can accommodate any size group for hair and makeup services! Your lead stylist will determine how many artists are needed based how many people are included in your group and how much time you have set aside for getting ready in the morning.

•         How much time should I allow in my schedule for hair & makeup?

It varies on the amount of styling and application. We allot fourty-five minutes for each service, however based on the complexity it can sometimes be longer. We’ll ask you to provide hair and/or makeup inspiration photos as well as images of yourself during your consultation.

•         What is included in my Preview?

You should be sure to go through pictures of hairstyles and makeup looks you like with your makeup artist and/or hairstylist. Feel free to bring photos of styles you would like to try to your preview appointment. After deciding on the look that is right for you, your stylist will create and cater it to what is suitable for you. If at any time during your consultation you want to change your look, just let your stylist know. After your look is complete, a picture and video are taken to assure the same look on your big day. Be prepared to answer any questions about your big day such as the final headcount, the timeline, etc. We love to gather all those important details the day of your preview.

•         How long does the Preview usually take?

The Preview is a trial run intended to be a dress rehearsal for how getting ready will go on your wedding day. However this could quite possibly take longer since this is an opportunity to work through your preferred styles, make tweaks according to your features and preferences, and find the best overall look for you. This is also an opportunity for your artist to talk through some tips, any preparation needed, and the best method or products for your specific skin type or hair type/texture. We recommend planning on an hour for your makeup preview, and the same for hair.

•         What if I want a style change between my ceremony and reception? What about touch ups for photos?

We can certainly provide hair and makeup assistance throughout your special day for style changes or touch ups during photos. Your stylist will be present for as many hours as you need, beginning when your initial bridal style is complete. This type of service can be reserved separately and is billed on an hourly basis at a rate of $100/hour with a two-hour minimum.

•         How many artists will I have?

For parties with more than eight services, there will be two artists assigned, anything less and there will be one assigned artist. For more than twelve services, your lead stylist will determine how many artists your group will need based on the timeline.

•         What if not everyone wants their hair & makeup done?

While we highly recommend that our artists' style your entire group to ensure a cohesive look, we're happy to build a custom package for you, too. Please contact us for more options including hair only, or makeup only.

•         Is gratuity included in my service charge?

While this is not included in your invoice, gratuity is always appreciated.

•         What’s the advantage to airbrush foundation? What about false lashes?

Airbrush foundation provides a flawless, touchable, long-lasting, and transfer-proof matte or dewy finish for your skin. It is compatible with all skin types and hypo-allergenic. It requires fewer powder touchups and coverage can be adjusted easily for light to heavy concealment, and it covers blemishes extremely well, giving your skin a smooth, airbrushed finish.

False lashes are a great accent to add that extra sparkle to your eyes in your photos. False lashes photograph very well, and can be applied differently according to how much drama you want to add. There are many different styles of false lash strips. We highly recommend both airbrush foundation and false lashes and that is why they are complimentary to any full makeup service.

•         How should I prepare for my appoinment?

We ask our clients to arrive with hair freshly blow-dryed, and preferably washed with a clarifier to remove any heavy buildup. This will allow your hairstyle to last until you take it out.

If your have naturally curly hair we suggest flat ironing your hair as well. Alternatively, if you prefer your natural curl, we are happy to style your curls without using hot tools.

Artists do not bring blow dryers on site so please arrive with dry hair otherwise your hair will be styled wet.

It is very rare for a style to come undone during the course of your wedding day, barring rain or other inclement weather.

Please arrive with no makeup and minimal skin care. We love using SPF daily, however if your skincare contains Titanium Dioxide or Zinc Oxide then you risk a dreaded white cast when using flash photography. We have skincare products for every type so feel free to skip the regimen for the day and we’ll take care of the rest.

Our signature application techniques allow your makeup to have wonderful staying power, even though tears, gentle touching, or contact throughout the day and long through the night.

Tip #1

Airbrush foundation is a must for hot weather weddings. Airbrush foundation is sweat and water resistant, and provides a flawless, touchable, long-lasting, and transfer-proof matte or dewy finish for your skin. It is compatible with all skin types and hypo-allergenic. It requires fewer powder touchups and coverage can be adjusted easily for light to heavy concealment, and it covers blemishes extremely well, giving your skin a smooth, airbrushed finish.

False lashes are a great accent to add that extra sparkle to your eyes in your photos. False lashes photograph very well, and can be applied differently according to how much drama you want to add. There are many different styles of false lash strips. We highly recommend both airbrush foundation and false lashes and that is why they are complimentary to any full makeup service. This is one of the best tips!

Tip #2

Having on-site hair and makeup services can save you time and money. You can start getting ready later in the day (letting you get your beauty sleep!) and since the artists come to you, you don't have to worry about hiring transportation to the salon.

Tip #3

Bring your jewelry, veil or other headpiece with you to your preview appointment so you can see what works best when your artist is doing your makeup and/or hair.

Tip #4

Surprise your mom and bridesmaids with a gift they'll be sure to enjoy: the gift of beauty. Everyone in the bridal party will feel gorgeous on your big and it will show (especially in photos!) when you reserve our on-site hair and makeup artists.

[salonjaipur]

Wedding Season Beauty: Bridal Hair and Makeup Trends

As the wedding season approaches, brides in Jaipur are eagerly anticipating their special day. From the traditional rituals to the grand celebrations, every moment is precious and should be picture-perfect. To help you achieve the bridal look of your dreams, look no further than the best beauty salon in Jaipur.

Our expert team of bridal makeup artists, skilled in the art of enhancing your natural beauty, is here to make your big day even more beautiful.The Bridal Glow:A radiant complexion is a timeless trend for brides. Our bridal makeup artists in Jaipur are well-versed in creating the perfect base that looks flawless both in person and in photographs. We use premium products to ensure your makeup stays fresh throughout the festivities.

Eyes that Mesmerize:Eyes are the windows to your soul, and on your wedding day, they deserve to be framed with perfection. From smoky eyes to soft, ethereal looks, our makeup artists are skilled in enhancing your eyes, ensuring they captivate everyone in the room.

Statement Lips:Bold and beautiful lips are a growing trend for modern brides. Whether you opt for a classic red or a soft nude, our bridal makeup artists will ensure your lips are kissable and camera-ready.

Hairstyles that Wow:Your hair is your crowning glory, and our bridal hair experts understand the significance of finding the ideal hairstyle for your wedding day. From intricate updos to loose waves adorned with fresh flowers, we can make your hair dreams come true.Bridal Party Glam:We understand that it’s not just the bride who wants to look stunning. Our bridal party makeup artists in Jaipur can work their magic on bridesmaids, family members, and anyone else who wants to shine alongside the bride.

Hair Extensions for Volume and Length:If you’re dreaming of long, luscious locks, our salon offers the best hair extension services in Jaipur. Our skilled hair professionals will help you achieve the hair of your dreams, ensuring a natural look that complements your bridal attire.

A Trusted Name in Bridal Beauty:Recognized as the top bridal makeup salon in Jaipur, our salon has a reputation for exceeding bridal expectations. We understand that each bride is unique, and we work closely with you to create a bridal look that’s tailored to your individual style.Your wedding day is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and we are committed to making you look and feel your best.

Choose the best beauty salon in Jaipur to bring your bridal beauty dreams to life. With our experienced team, premium products, and attention to detail, we are the go-to destination for bridal and groom makeup in Jaipur. Get ready to walk down the aisle with confidence, radiance, and the assurance of being the most beautiful version of yourself on your special day.

[wedding-videograpner]

Must-Have Wedding Photo for your Big Day | Bridal pictures

Checklist Wedding Photos for Your Big Day | Bridal Pictures List.

Everyone knows that the wedding day is one of the most important days in any person's life. If you're getting ready for this special event, then you will want to make sure that your photographer captures every detail of it. But what if you don't know where to start? That's where our bridal checklist comes in! This list will help guide you through all of the photos that need taking so that your special day can be preserved forever.

Wedding Photos Checklist for Wedding Day.

- Bride Morning – Getting Ready. - The Bridal Bouquet | Wedding bouquet.

Bride Morning – Getting Ready.

- Bride getting ready. - Wedding Shoes and Wedding Dress. - Getting ready photos. - Hanging Wedding Dress. - Wedding dress on the bed. This is a great way to show off your gown, as well as to remind you how beautiful it was when you first slipped it on for the big day. The photo can also include other details like shoes or jewelry, if applicable. - Bride Putting On Garter - Bride with bridesmaids – If you want to include bridesmaids in your photos, ask them to get ready together before heading out for photos.If not, this gives the bride's family a chance to catch up with distant relatives and friends before the wedding. - Hairstyle Closeup – Wedding Photos. - Touching Wedding Photos: Bride With Father. - Mother And Bride.

Wedding Shoes and Wedding Dress

When it comes to wedding shoes and other accessories, there are a few things that you need to keep in mind. First of all, you will be wearing your dress for a long time—especially if you have multiple portraits taken. If you plan on changing into another outfit or pair of shoes, later on, make sure the heels are comfortable enough to last! This also goes for any bridesmaids who might be wearing heels as well. Second, remember how much time is spent on these photos. Will they be taking place in one location? Or will they be moving around? Some locations allow you to wear sneakers, while other locations require business attire.

The Invitation Suite and Details

The invitation suite is a set of wedding invitations that you may use to announce your big day. You can have the main invitation, which will state the time, date, and location of your wedding as well as provide information about how to RSVP. There are a number of programs available for guests to take home with them at the ceremony. These usually include a map or a list of other important items such as your wedding website and registry information. You may receive RSVP cards with your invitation package. These cards will tell you where to send your responses back once you receive your invites in the mail.

The Bridal Portrait.

- Bride and groom portraits. - Shot of the Bride. - Photo of a Bride and groom with parents. -  with the bridal party. - Bride and groom with the wedding party. - Bride and groom with wedding guests. - The Candid Moments

The Bridal Bouquet | Wedding bouquet.

The bridal bouquet should be unique to you and your style. It can be a symbol of who you are and what makes you special. It’s also important that it has meaning in your relationship with your soon-to-be husband. For example, if he was always picking flowers for you as a kid, maybe include daisies or wildflowers in the bouquet instead of roses or lilies. Try using symbolism in your wedding dress, such as white for purity or orange for creativity. If you're having a spring wedding, use gold or yellow. If your wedding is during the fall, use deep red.

Wedding photography: Groom Getting Ready.

The groom getting ready photos should show the groom getting dressed, with his groomsmen helping him. The groom getting ready photos should also show the groom with his parents and/or grandparents.

Just Before the First Look Photos.

The first look is one of the most memorable moments of a couple's wedding day. It's the moment when they finally see each other in their wedding attire and can take in each other's beauty before exchanging vows. The bride typically gets ready in her room, with her bridesmaids and family members helping her to prepare. The groom waits in his suite with his groomsmen for their big reveal. Let your photographer capture the groom's reaction to seeing his bride for the first time—and vice versa! Then, once they see each other, they will turn around and face one another! - Creative Shots Of Wedding Rings Before The Ceremony.

The Walk Down the Aisle.

- The Bride's Father Escorting Her Down the Aisle: If your father is still alive, he may be able to escort you down the aisle. This is a very special moment for both of you, so make sure to enjoy it together. If he's not available or can't physically walk with you down the aisle, another family member can do so on his behalf. In this case, it might be best if someone other than your mother walks with her as well; that way she won't feel lonely in such a large crowd of unfamiliar faces. - The Groom Waiting at the End of the Aisle: As soon as everyone in attendance has taken their seats and quieted down (or at least stopped talking loudly enough so others cannot hear), take note when they begin applauding—this means that it's time for them all to stand up again and prepare themselves for what comes next. You'll hear music playing in church as soon as everything else is ready! It should start slowly with some quiet piano chords which gradually increase until their volume rises into full-on wedding march mode (but hopefully without sounding like an overused cliché).

Ask yours Wedding Photographer: Wedding Ceremony Photo.

On the day of the wedding, several people make up your entourage. The first thing to remember is to get all these people in front of your camera! You don't want to miss out on capturing their reactions. Below is a list of groups and individuals you should consider photographing: - Touching Photos: Groom With Parents Before Ceremony. - Groom With Groomsmen Before Ceremony. - Cute Flower Girls Photos. - Wedding Arch Photo. - Wedding Kiss. - Wedding Centerpieces.

Romantic Wedding Pictures Of The Bride And Groom.

Your wedding is a romantic occasion, and you should be able to capture some of that sentiment in your photos. There are many ways to do it, such as having a first look before the ceremony, kissing under a canopy during the reception, or exchanging rings during sunset. These moments will help create memories for years to come!

Wedding Reception Photo Checklist. Photo ideas

- The Reception - You know that you want to capture photos at the reception and your planner has already made arrangements for the photographer to arrive at the venue before the guests do. But don't forget to ask them if they'll be taking photos of the decorating process! - Guests arrive - great opportunity for photos. - The Wedding Party. - Candid photos. - Place cards - This is a great opportunity for some candid shots of your bridal party, as well as some fun dancing shots with them. They're going to be having so much fun on this day, so don't be afraid to get in there and join them! - These two lovebirds are what everyone is here celebrating, after all! Try out some different poses together (or just kiss). Your photographer will know what they're doing when it comes time for these photos—you just have fun with it! - Wedding table settings are very important, as they set the tone for the rest of the wedding and affect the overall appearance of the reception tables.

Photographers were able to document wedding traditions with their work.

Photographers were able to document wedding traditions with their work. Wedding traditions are must-have wedding photos, as they are a part of your big day. A photographer can capture these moments so that you will always be reminded of the day you said "I Do." A photographer will also be able to get shots of all the different elements of your reception, such as your food and drinks, cake-cutting ceremony (if applicable), and even photos with family members who attended that took place during cocktail hour or after dinner. A great way for photographers to do this is by using an engagement session or pre-wedding shoot as an opportunity for you two to get comfortable in front of them before being photographed at your wedding again.

Family Photos

Family photos are an important part of your wedding album and a great way to remember your day. These can be taken before or after the ceremony, during the reception, or at any time during the day. Ask your photographer to get a shot of all your family combined.

Wedding First Dance on the Dance Floor

The first dance is one of the most important parts of your wedding day. It's a special moment that you'll remember for years to come, so it's important to get it right. If you're planning on having a first dance song for your wedding, here are some things to keep in mind: - When choosing a song, think about what kind of music fits your personality and style. Are you more into funk rock or pop? Do you like jazz music or do indie bands move your soul? Maybe country music makes you feel nostalgic! Whatever type of music moves you is the kind that should be played at this magical moment. - If possible, try listening to songs before deciding on one for your first dance song list for weddings because sometimes people don't realize how well they go together until they hear them playing side by side. - Some people believe there's only one perfect song out there but this isn't true!

The Bridal Party. Wedding Party Photos.

Your bridal party is an important part of your wedding day, so make sure you get photos with them! Whether it's just the bride or all of you together, here are some photo ideas for group shots. - Family photos: Your family loves you and will be there for you on your big day, so take a moment to capture that love in pictures! Try having everyone gather around one person as they do something silly (like jumping or holding their hands up) to give them all something to laugh about. You can also have everyone put their arms around each other's shoulders or waist and take a nice picture together that way. - Bridal party photos: These guys know how much they mean to the bride and groom and they want those feelings reciprocated—so give them some time during your shoot! Have everyone line up in front of the couple so they can pose together while still showing off their personalities by interacting with each other (whether it’s through eye contact or silly poses). - Groomsmen Photos: The groomsmen are another important part of any wedding celebration because they stand behind our heroes during the ceremony and carry out various responsibilities afterward; don't forget about these guys when it comes time for portraits! While we recommend having at least one shot where every single member gets included (this helps keep things organized), try spreading out between two rows so none feels left out if not everyone gets photographed at once.

Wedding Cake.

Cake Cutting Ceremony. After the first dance, it’s time for the bride and groom to cut into their wedding cake. Everyone will be watching as you slice it up, so take advantage of this moment to get some great shots! - The bride and groom cutting into their wedding cake for the first time (or, if you have a large family or lots of friends invited to your wedding) you can also get some great shots with all the guests watching in awe at how beautiful your cake is.

Other must-have photos. Shot list.

Other must-have photos. Shot list: - Bride and groom kissing - you should take a photo of the bride and groom kissing to incorporate into your wedding photo album. - Bride and groom with parents - it's important for you to take photos of the bride, groom, and both sets of parents during your wedding day because this is something that will last forever.

Conclusion

Wedding photos are a great way to capture memories from your big day, and they can be fun, too! As we’ve discussed, you might want to include many different types of shots in your album. We hope this list has helped give you some ideas on what to do for the most important wedding pictures.   Read the full article

[jackrrabbit]

Complex /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu (18+)

Summary: Family’s supposed to look out for one another, but sometimes you feel like your new stepbrothers are a little too close for comfort.

A/N: Thanks so much to @bellanovas for commissioning this piece!!! This was so so much fun to write wow…what is it about boys making you call them nii-chan 🤒

Tags/warnings: soft yandere, dubcon, pseudo-incest (stepsiblings), manipulation, praise, overstimulation, alcohol, shy reader, crying

They never really wanted other siblings.

It was always just the two of them—Atsumu and Osamu, ‘Tsumu and ‘Samu. Being twins works for them. Sure they bicker and all, but they’re still closer to each other than anyone else in the world. That’s how family is. They’re just as spoiled as only children (always have been) and that’s how they like it. So they never wanted a little sister.

But that was before they met you. Obviously.

“Miya-san,” you say, like you’re surprised. “And— Miya-san.”

The flute of champagne you’re holding rolls between your fingers delicately and you shuffle back away from them on your little pink flats, letting the chiffon of your bridesmaid dress swish between your legs. Nervous habit, Osamu thinks, and he reaches out to steady your hand before the sparkling wine spills onto the floor. “You can call us by name. We’re siblings now.”

“Besides, it’s gonna get confusing if you call us both Miya-san,” Atsumu chimes in. “We’re close enough for first names, right?”

“Oh—um, I mean, I guess, if you want…?” You blink and wonder how they both appeared in front of you so quickly. You’ve seen pictures of them before (and you were always skeptical of how good-looking they both are—twins? and they both look like that? has to be a filter—except it isn’t), but this is your first meeting. At the reception after your parents got married. And you’ve had a little too much champagne, and your eyes are probably still red from crying at the ceremony, and wow. They both really look like that in person.

Someone’s ringing a glass, getting ready for a speech. Someone at the buffet laughs. Your hand feels cool under Osamu’s. He looks down at you, not quite smiling but pleasant. So handsome, like a prince in a Disney movie, like a fairy tale.

Except…they’re your…brothers. It’s probably illegal for you to notice how handsome they are in their identical suits, hair swept back and styled in mirror images of each other. Atsumu is smiling at you. Smiling? Smirking. You slip your hand out of Osamu’s—the pad of his middle finger lingers on your inner wrist, catches on the chain of your bracelet for half a second—and you take a quick sip of your drink just to give yourself an excuse to break eye contact.

“So you’ll be (Y/N) to us. And you should call us by our names.” Atsumu slips an arm around your shoulders and tugs you into the warm muscle of his torso, so close your tits push flat up against his side. Your mouth opens and his smile gets bigger. “Well…unless you wanna try out nii-chan?”

“I—no—“ You can feel your cheeks heating up. “I mean, we’re not even really…”

“C’mon, are ya saying you’re not our real little sister? You’ll hurt my feelings.” Atsumu’s hand is on your head now, tousling your hair and loosening the elaborate wedding hairstyle you spent ages trying to get right in the mirror this morning. You should tell him to stop…

“Don’t mess with her. She barely knows us, you’re scaring her,” Osamu chides, lacing his long fingers into yours briefly to tease the champagne flute out of your hands and into his own so he can take a long sip.

“Aw, no way, am I scaring you? Sorry, sorry,” Atsumu’s eyes meet yours, crinkled up like he’s about to laugh, and even though you are a little nervous you shake your head no. He’s your brother, so it’s fine.

Atsumu turns to his twin. “Gotta admit though, ‘Samu—that’s what a little sister should call her big brothers, don’t ya think? It’s gotta be nii-chan, right?”

“‘Samu-nii… ‘Tsumu-nii.” Osamu tests out slowly. “Has a nice ring to it…”

“See? Give it a try, (Y/N), just once?” Atsumu rubs his hand over your bare arm, already so comfortable with the casual touch, and he hooks a finger under the strap of your dress and tugs it back up over your shoulder. You hadn’t even noticed it was slipping. “For me?”

And the thing is, it feels like you’re being teased. Like you’re the punchline of a joke you haven’t heard yet. But they’re both being nice and they’re family now and maybe that’s just how it is with brothers, so…

The band is easing off La Primavera and the best man is clearing his throat, getting ready to speak. If you wait any longer it’ll be quiet in the reception hall and everyone will hear them teasing you.

“Fine…o-onii-chan?” you say softly, wishing you could match how confident they both always seem. Maybe then you could laugh this off like a joke, too. But now you just seem shy and embarrassed and, ugh.

Neither of them seem to mind, though. The speech is starting but you can barely hear. Atsumu laughs and Osamu smiles, draining the last sip of your champagne. “See now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

///

Despite your best efforts (not to mention theirs), calling your new step-brothers nii-chan never feels quite right.

Not that it feels wrong, per se—it’s just that you didn’t meet them until all of you were adults, and you didn’t grow up together, and you’re never going to be as close to them as they are to each other. For all of their arguments, they still seem to have that secret twin connection that you never really believed in until you met them. Sometimes you walk in the room and they turn toward you too quick—it gives you a weird feeling, like you swung a flashlight into the dark too quickly and saw eyes reflecting back at you—and you can tell you interrupted something important, some vital ongoing conversation that always ends with your arrival.

You never press them, though. You don’t want to intrude. They’re twins, they’ve been together since birth. You wouldn’t expect to reach that level of closeness with them in just a few months.

On the other hand, it seems like they love having you as a little sister. Atsumu’s more annoying about it (how many times has he corrected you when you called him by his surname instead of ‘Tsumu-nii?) but you’re pretty sure Osamu’s in the same boat. There are advantages to having a bigger family—like when you mention you’re not looking forward to moving back in with your newlywed parents and Atsumu says you should stay in the guest room of the apartment he shares with Osamu during his off-season (“it’ll be fun, don’t worry about rent, it’s so boring living with just ‘Samu”). Or when your job search isn’t going great and Osamu offers to pay you way too much to work behind the counter at Onigiri Miya (“we’re short-staffed since re-opening for indoor dining, you’re qualified, I don’t feel like looking through resumes”) and suddenly you see more of them than you do anyone else.

You keep trying to deny them. It’s a little much, isn’t it? Free housing, a great job where the boss is almost too easy on you—all of that falling into your lap just because your parents got married? But every time you try to say you can’t accept something they’re pushing on you, they insist. You’re family. You’re our little sister. Can’t we spoil our little sister? Or are you saying we’re not really your brothers?

And how are you supposed to respond to that?

So you keep accepting things you’re not sure you deserve. You move into their guest bedroom and you take the job at Onigiri Miya and you call them nii-chan. When they ask. Neither of them seem used to taking ‘no’ for an answer.

Which makes sense, because they’re family. Except you’re not really sure the way you feel about them is how you’re supposed to feel about family. You’re modest, you’re always worried about what’s appropriate—they’re the problem.

You keep getting these…intrusive thoughts, things you don’t want to think about your stepbrothers when Osamu walks around in just a towel with his hair dripping water all down his back or Atsumu comes up and flattens you between the counter and his body because he’s getting something out of a cabinet you’re standing in front of. It’s like the beginning of some kind of step-cest porn—not that you’d ever watch that stuff, mostly because the thought of one of them going on your computer and finding out makes you want to die.

Osamu catches you staring once while he makes breakfast in just an apron and boxer briefs and you can barely get out your pathetic explanation: you’re not used to living with men, you’re sorry for staring, you didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. He tells you it’s okay. It’s difficult, isn’t it? The whole step-sibling thing? You’re family, but it’s not like you’re blood. But he doesn’t mind, and come on, seriously, you could never make him uncomfortable.

Sometimes it’s like—god, you don’t even want to articulate these thoughts to yourself, if they knew they’d think you’re sick—but sometimes…it just, it just feels like there’s something else? Something you’re not imagining, something coming from them. They love you as their sister (they really use that word, love, love, so easily) but is it possible…?

Atsumu kissing your head when you’re half-asleep on his shoulder in the Uber home after Friday drinks—Osamu playing with your hair after movie night and telling you that you should think about changing your surname to ‘Miya’—

No.

It isn’t possible.

You’re projecting. You’re attracted to them and you feel guilty about it so you’re projecting what you want onto them. It’s not fair to them and it’s not fair to you—by the time you really consider it, you’ve been living with them for months and can barely remember the last time you saw a friend. You haven’t gone on a single date since you moved in. You should go out, meet someone, get a job and a place to live that you actually earned yourself. Stop crushing on your stepbrothers.

No matter how easy they make it.

“Well, look who cleaned up today. Who’re you all prettied up for?”

There’s someone behind you. They’re close and on the subway it feels too close so your heart leaps for a second before you recognize the voice. It’s a bit muffled from his mask, but it’s just Atsumu—he mentioned he was on his way to a publicity thing this morning. You’re surprised you ran into him on the train, you left a long time after he did. “Oh—hey, Atsumu—“

“‘Tsumu-nii,” he corrects. A few more people shove into your train car and Atsumu steps forward to make room, forcing you to squeeze between him and the train window.

He feels warm. You swallow and twist your neck to the side, trying to look back at him even though there isn’t really enough space. “I’m actually going to an interview, do you think I look okay?”

It’s been a while since you interviewed for something professional like this. You’re wearing a nice dark suit, tights, sensible heels, a shiny black bag (empty except for a few copies of your resume and a pack of breath mints), and all of it feels a little like a costume. You have to admit, you’re more comfortable in the Onigiri Miya uniform. But you need to fly the nest sometime, don’t you?

“An interview, huh…” Atsumu sighs and because your hair’s up, you can feel the warm breath filter over the back of your neck. “‘Samu’s not gonna like that.”

That’s what you were scared of. You didn’t mention your job search to the twins—didn’t want to get your hopes up or seem ungrateful, but now it’s out in the open. “The job doesn’t start until September—I’d have plenty of time to train my replacement, and—and I probably won’t get it anyway—“ You end on a nervous laugh, wishing you had space to play with your hands or fidget or something.

The subway chime dings and you hear the station announcement as the doors grind open. Next stop, you remind yourself.

“Still, it’s—ugh—“ Atsumu grunts and the next thing you feel is the full weight of his body pressing into your back.

Your hand immediately goes up against the glass so you don’t smack into it, elbow to palm braced against the pane while your stepbrother pushes into you from the other side. “Atsumu—‘Tsumu-nii, you’re kind of—crushing me!”

“Sorry, buncha people just got on and some dickhead bumped into me.” He sounds annoyed, groping around for the hand railing next to your side and shifting so he’s still flush with your backside but no longer practically on top of you.

“Is there space for me to get out?” You try to scoot out of his way but he’s not letting you.

“Naw, it’s pretty packed. You look so cute, if I wasn’t here you’d probably have some sicko feeling you up…just lemme protect my little sister, okay?” Atsumu gives the appropriate laugh (he’s kidding, obviously, you take the train all the time by yourself and you’ve never had an issue) but there’s some other kind of weight in his voice.

You didn’t see what he was wearing when he left this morning but it’s probably the same thing he wears every day—loose athletic sweatpants, skintight shirt, and a hoodie or windbreaker depending on the weather. All thin fabric, you can feel it. And honestly, with your back rubbing against his lower abdomen with the jerky movement of the train, you can feel…it.

Oh my god. Oh my— Is he…? You can’t tell, but it’s definitely touching you and your face is burning and can he feel that too?

The train slows and you hear the beep of the doors opening and you thank the heavens for the excellent timing. “This is me,” you squeak, squirming out from underneath him and into the pulsing throng of people between you and the platform, but Atsumu catches your arm before you can make it.

His eyes are narrow. “We’ll talk—tonight, okay? The three of us should talk. There’s some things we need to tell you…”

The doors are going to close in a second. “Okay, Atsumu, but I really have to go now—“ Filled with don’t be late to your interview adrenaline, you yank your arm away from him with more force than you expected, and you catch a stunned look on his face before he disappears into the crowd.

“Good luck,” you hear a second later, and you hope that it’s just your imagination that makes your stepbrother’s voice sound so insincere.

///

When you get home, you’re tired. Happy, but tired. The interview went better than expected—one of the panel members was an alum from a club you were in in college, and the connection seems to be working in your favor. High on your success, you called up a friend who lives in the area to get coffee and catch up, which eventually turned into dinner, and then drinks, and then suddenly it was dark out and your phone was dead and your friend was laughing, walking you to the station, and making you promise to text her when you got home safe. You’re still a little drunk by the time you’re unlocking the door to the twins’ apartment, but haven’t you earned it?

Maybe it’s the alcohol that keeps you from announcing your arrival like you usually do, or maybe it’s just plain old consideration. It’s late-ish, and although the twins stay up later than you do, you don’t want to disturb them. You shut the door slowly and slip your heels off with as little sound as possible, padding in your bare feet toward your bedroom to plug your phone in, until you hear voices from the living room.

One of their secret conversations. You shouldn’t listen…but you still inch forward in the hallway, trying to sneak a taste of what they talk about when you’re not around.

“Not yet…she’s not ready yet. I keep telling you it’s too soon.” Osamu’s pissed, like he usually is with his brother. What is it this time? A girl?

“She was going to an interview, ‘Samu—it wasn’t close to here, she might try to move out.”

You. They’re talking about you. That’s…not good, is it? They sound upset. Maybe you’re as guilty of taking advantage of their kindness as you’ve always been scared of, and they’re just now realizing it.

“So then what do you want to—hey.” Osamu’s voice sharpens and harshens in a single second, and before you realize the reason for his change in tone, you see him in the doorway to the living room at the end of the hall, a dark figure silhouetted against the yellow light. “(Y/N)? When did you get home?”

“Just—um, just a second ago,” you answer truthfully over the sounds of Atsumu asking (Y/N)’s here? in the background. You dip your head, embarrassed. They caught you eavesdropping.

Osamu makes his way closer, takes your keys out of your hand and hangs them on the hook above the shoe rack where you always forget to put them when you come home. He’s looking at you—calm, curious, not angry. Thank god, you think.

“Pretty late, aren’t ya,” he says.

“Yeah, I was with a friend?”

“We called… It’s kinda mean when you don’t call back, y’know? ‘Cause it makes us wonder…what you’re doing.” Osamu’s eyes drift down your body and you take note of what you look like—tights stuffed into your handbag along with your suit jacket (you shimmied them off in the bar bathroom because you were scared to rip them), blouse unbuttoned, lipstick smudged. Not quite as put-together as you were when you left in the morning.

“We just had some drinks—I hadn’t seen her in a while so she wanted to catch up—“ You’re babbling. Over-explaining. “And my phone died. I’m sorry if I made you…worry.”

Is worry the right word? It doesn’t match the expression on Osamu’s face.

“S’okay, you should get to have fun sometimes. I know.” His gaze alights on something below your face, and then he reaches out to lift it off the gap in your collarbones: the necklace you wore to the interview, a silver chain with a little studded charm in the center. “But um…d’you think you could make it up to me?”

“Sure?” You’re not the only one who’s been drinking tonight—you can smell red wine on Osamu’s breath, he’s that close.

“Okay…keep your mouth open, (Y/N), okay?”

Your necklace drops back to your clavicle and Osamu’s hand snakes over to the back of your head, tipping your face up, and he kisses you.

Deep, hungry. Your mouth is parted (of course it is, he said to keep it open, of course) and when the damp of his tongue presses into yours you can taste every note, every undertone in the alcohol. Malbec, you think dizzily. Bittersweet.

This is wrong.

You don’t think you could push him away—so instead you fall back, flattening into the hallway wall so the only thing connecting you to your stepbrother is a trail of spit. Osamu pulls back, eyes half-lidded.

“Osamu.” Your voice cracks.

“What the hell?” Atsumu’s hand’s on the back of his brother’s collar, wrenching him away from you so they both stumble against the facing wall from the momentum. “The fuck? You just said she wasn’t ready!”

You flinch, feeling heat well up in your eyes. He’s angry, Atsumu’s angry, and you did this. Somehow it’s your fault. You know it is.

Osamu wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Couldn’t help it…look at her.”

Atsumu turns his fierce gaze on you and the second your eyes meet his face changes. Your hands are shaking. Feels like he’s touching you, the way he’s looking at you.

“‘Tsumu—‘Tsumu-nii, he—kissed me,” you whisper in a shaky voice.

Rough, callused fingers meet the side of your face, trace down your cheek. “I know, I know. Was it scary? Did ‘Samu scare you?”

What is this? What’s happening? Shouldn’t he be angry? You breathe out, let your chest lift and fall a little too rapidly. “I don’t understand…”

“It’s okay, I promise. It’s all going to be okay, we’re gonna make you feel really nice.” Osamu’s back in front of you, kiss-drunk and dazed, herding you back into the wall. “I’d keep you to myself, but…”

“Shut up. I want to taste her too,” Atsumu says, and then he ducks to line his face up and you feel his mouth slide up against yours. Your arm lifts—for what? to shove him away?—but he just catches you by the wrist again and curls your hand into his chest.

You’re slower to move back this time, defenses worn down by the endless surge of denial reeling through your brain. You can’t they can’t this isn’t— but you do manage to get away eventually, knocking the back of your head against the plaster wall as you do so.

“Ouch, did that hurt? Sounded like it.” Osamu smoothes his fingers down the back of your head, petting the sore spot.

“But—you’re my brother,” you say stupidly. You move your head from side to side but the two of them have had no trouble cornering you in. There’s nowhere to go. You’re right where you have to be. “You’re…we’re siblings, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, of course—“ Atsumu leans in and kisses you again, a quick one this time. “‘Course we are, we’re your brothers.”

“You’re our little sister, (Y/N).” Osamu drags a hand down your throat, tugging at the neckline of your blouse, thumbing the next button. “Doesn’t that mean we should take care of you?”

Atsumu massages your wrist, strokes his thumb over the lines in your palm. “Real good care.”

Your legs wobble. “I don’t understand,” you say again.

“Don’t worry, it’ll make sense soon,” Osamu tells you, and before you can ask how can this possibly make sense you feel a heavy arm tuck under your shoulders and he crouches down to lift you, princess-style, against his chest.

He’s carried you like this before. Once. Or was it Atsumu? You’d had too many cocktails and fallen asleep on the couch in the living room and you barely woke up when someone picked you up to take you to your bed and tucked you in. You’d felt so delicate then, so safe.

Can Osamu feel how quick your pulse is racing? You can hear his, the steady throb of his heart under your cheek.

He’s taking you to the living room. You hear a click. Atsumu’s folding the sofa out into a bed and pulling the pillows off to the side and you’re being lain down. The light glows yellow on the ceiling and then Osamu rises up in front of it, straddling your hips and caging you down onto the thin cushions.

“Wait—“ You climb back on the sofa (bed?), up on your elbows and then onto your ass, scrabbling to put some healthy distance between you and Osamu (it’s not like you’re trying to get away from him—that would be mean, you know he wouldn’t hurt you—you just need to—think—) but you don’t get far before you feel Atsumu settle behind you, hold your shoulders in place with both hands.

“Where d’you think you’re goin, baby?” he asks lightly, teasingly, and then he ducks down and licks the side of your ear.

“I’m not—“ You shake your head to try and clear your thoughts. “I don’t get it…”

“We just want to kiss you…can’t we kiss you?” Osamu’s hand creeps up the side of your thigh, slowly, until he reaches the hem of your skirt and the tips of his fingers just barely nudge underneath.

You swallow. You haven’t had sex since…before you moved in with them? You can feel that familiar anticipation winding up like a clock, waiting for what comes next. But you can’t. “It’s not allowed...”

“We’re not doing anything wrong, are we ‘Samu?” Atsumu asks. Osamu shakes his head. “See?”

“It is—it’s wrong—“ Someone’s dragging your blouse up out of where it’s tucked into your skirt. Someone presses their lips into your neck, then their teeth. Oh…

“That’s not nice, (Y/N).” Atsumu lifts your body up and back onto his lap, and you feel it again, his stiff cock poking against your ass through his thin shorts. “How is it wrong for us to kiss the girl we like?”

“The girl you like?”

“Sure we like you (Y/N), we love you.” Osamu’s hand darts down the front of your blouse, slipping the buttons through their holes, pushing the fabric away from your chest and off your shoulders. “This is what people do when they’re in love.”

He’s in love? Does that mean—Atsumu is too?

Are you?

Is this what love feels like? The two of them are touching you, pulling off your shirt, pushing your skirt up to your waist and stripping your panties down your thighs. Someone’s mouth presses into your jaw. You feel your eyes rolling up, tracing the radial strokes of light the floor lamp leaves on the ceiling… Osamu’s big hands splay out over your ribs and he pulls you into his chest and your tits press against his shirt. He breathes into your hair, smells the dab of perfume you rubbed on your neck this morning.

You can feel his cock through his boxers, nudging against your tummy. Hard in every place you’re soft.

“But I don’t want to have sex,” you say.

“…Yes, you do.” Osamu’s knee pushes between your legs and you hear the thin mattress creak under his weight.

“We see the way you look at us, like you’re begging for it,” Atsumu tugs a strand of your hair. “And we hear you…touching yourself in the shower, cumming on your little vibrator when you think we’re not home. Moaning our names in your sleep.”

“No, I don’t—I don’t do that.” You’re shaking your head. It wasn’t like that, it wasn’t some sick little fantasy you were waiting for your stepbrothers to act out—it was just a thought, here and there, it wasn’t like you meant anything—

“It’s okay, it’s natural. Makes us happy knowing our little sister wants us to be the ones making her cum. And now we get to do it for you.”

“It’s not like that—“

“I bet your little kitty feels different, doesn’t it?” Atsumu’s hand snakes around your waist to pet roughly against your slit, slicking up the rough pads of his fingers in your juices. “All wet for nii-chan, such a good girl.”

You are wet. You didn’t feel it until he touched you but you’re leaking like a faucet, pussy drooling over his fingers like you want them inside. Atsumu pushes lightly against your hole and then you choke back a squeal of surprise when your cunt has to stretch around two fingers at once, middle and index sliding in as deep as he can reach. His other hand gropes around to rub circles into your clit and you feel your hips rocking back on reflex.

“Oh yeah…you like it? Feels good?” You’re not facing him but you can still hear the smirk in Atsumu’s voice.

Your ass is rolling back into him, matching the pace of his lazy pumps. It’s hard to think—so much easier to tune out your moral compass and listen to the slow thrusts of skin on skin, the intertwined breath of the two men sandwiching you between them. Osamu drags his fingernails lightly against the side of your waist and when you gasp, his cock twitches where it’s resting on your stomach. “Touch me too, (Y/N),” he breathes.

He takes your hand—grip reaching all the way around your wrist—and puts it against the front of his boxers. His cock is tenting out the fabric and he sighs when you make contact, leaning forward to rest his head on your shoulder. It’s hot…all stiff, throbbing against your fingers when you clumsily follow his direction to rub it up and down. You barely have to move, though—Osamu’s rutting his cock into your hand just like you’re rocking your hips into Atsumu’s touch.

“Good girl,” Osamu says softly. You turn your head and his eyes are almost closed, thick eyelashes obscuring his vision. “So good, my pretty little sister, fuck…”

“Quiet, let her focus,” Atsumu snaps. “She’s gonna cum, isn’t that right (Y/N)? Gonna cum on nii-chan’s fingers?” He pushes closer, brushes your hair out of the way so you can feel his bare chest against your back. “I can feel it…feel your little cunny getting all tight and excited, like you want something big and hard in there instead…”

Atsumu’s talking lower now, just inches away from your ear, like he doesn’t want Osamu to listen. Not that you think Osamu could listen—not the way he’s panting and humping your hand and digging nails into your upper arm. Atsumu bends his fingers, forcing slick friction against the patch of spongy flesh in your pussy so you have no choice but to clench up around him.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be squeezing my cock just like that, right baby girl?” You shake your head and Atsumu laughs under his breath. “Yes, you are, I know you are. I was thinking about it on the train, y’know—you were all nervous, and I was just thinking—I could just push up this skirt and fuck you right here on the train? Hm? Show all those fuckers staring at you who you belong to? Is that what you want?”

“Pervert, you’d get her arrested,” Osamu murmurs.

“I would’ve done it, I really—was going to, (Y/N), but I promised him we’d wait til you were ready, do it together, otherwise I would’ve done it a long time ago…keep you in my bedroom and tie you to the bed…” Atsumu’s voice is moving almost too quick for you to keep up, but the chill running down your spine is nothing compared to the heat dripping out of your cunt. “But good girls don’t get fucked unless they cum first, okay? You’re so delicate…don’t want to break you, you always cry so easy…”

Break you?

Atsumu’s fingers speed up, petting back and forth over your clit so quick you feel like you’re vibrating. You bite your lip—just hearing him say that, you cry so easy, makes you feel a little choked up. “That’s not…fair…”

“Aww, don’t take it like that, you’re pretty when you cry.” Atsumu kisses your cheek. “So pretty, like a princess—and we just wanna give you everything you want, fill you up, make you cum so hard you cry…”

And you can feel it, twisting up inside you, every sense in your body concentrated on the way your pussy’s getting teased and the cock rutting against your hands. Too hot, it’s too hot—the room feels saturated and airless and you’re lightheaded, like you’re breathing in the air they’re exhaling— your brothers, your stepbrothers, Atsumu and Osamu, holding you between them and not giving you a single inch, so it’s not really your fault, is it? Your sense of logic knows better but your heart is beating in your clit and your thighs are drenched in sweat and slick—the sounds you’re making, little nnh nhh please whining noises, and the wet squelching from between your legs—

Oh.

No wonder they think you want it.

“Atsumu—“ you plead, because your cunny muscles are tightening up, tensing, and you feel yourself shifting, trying to make sure—

“Wrong.” Atsumu growls, pushing another finger into you and rubs quick against your g-spot, swirling his thumb over your clit at the same time. “That’s not what my sister calls her big brother, is it?”

“‘Tsumu-nii,” you wail, “—please, I think—it feels so good, I don’t know—how to—stop—“

Your thighs tense, knees go weak, toes curl—and your pussy squeezes, clenching down on the three big fingers stretching you out. You can feel Atsumu’s pleased laughter, the movement of his chest against the damp skin of your back, and a second later Osamu joins in, out of breath but just as happy. You don’t care about that, though. Your hand drops off Osamu’s cock and he catches it, folding his fingers into yours so you can wring his hand, hold onto him for dear life, ride out Atsumu still petting through the syrupy mess of your cunt—

“—I came?” you gasp. You’re done, you’re—he got what he wanted, didn’t he? Why is he still—

“I think you got a little more in you than that, yes?” Atsumu drawls. “Girls get to have those—what’s it called—“

“Multiple orgasms?” Osamu asks, making eye contact with his brother for a second before lowering his gaze to yours, twisting his hand through your hair and pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

“Yeah, those. So lucky, we get to make you cum like crazy. Make your cute little cumface just for us.”

Osamu’s tongue slips over yours, head pushes yours back, so much force your lips feel bruised and tingly, and Atsumu’s still touching you, still stroking your puffy clit and drawing moans out of you that sound like choked kitten mewls. You try to writhe out of his grip but he shakes his head no. “You’re doing so good, baby…don’t give up now.”

Osamu pulls away from your kiss. “Go easy, she’s gonna hate you.”

“Nah, a girl can’t hate her big brother—could ya (Y/N)?” Atsumu nuzzles your cheek. “She loves me.”

Love isn’t what you would call it. Every muscle in your body is aching, trembling. Your face feels hot—your eyes—the word overwhelming feels like a joke, the air feels thin and your heart throbs out of rhythm. Your pussy feels fucking crazy.

“Besides…I said I wanted to make her cry. So cry.”

You want to be done.

Your eyes feel blurry. Osamu sucks a red mark onto your throat and Atsumu pulses his fingers over your poor abused clit and you feel it, tears welling up, just like he wants. “’Tsumu it’s too much—please stop, I don’t like it—please—nii-chan—“

You feel Atsumu’s breath, shuddering with pleasure—and then you don’t feel him. “Get off her, fucker.” Osamu’s voice sounds genuinely pissed as he yanks you bodily away from his brother. “She’s done.”

You collapse into the comfort of Osamu’s lap, so relieved that you almost don’t notice the bulge poking into your back. Feels like you ran a marathon, your heart’s racing like that…fuck. An aftershock rolls through you and you feel light-headed. You’re actually crying—tears slipping down your cheeks, sniffling and hiccuping like a little girl.

Atsumu blinks, shakes his head to clear it, and looks down at you, a little uncertain for once. “But we didn’t get to do anything…?”

“Look at her. She’s done.” Osamu strokes your shoulder and then folds his arms around your middle. “Don’t cry, okay (Y/N)? We’re not gonna hurt you.”

And you know he’s telling the truth, but the thing is—you couldn’t really stop them, could you? If they wanted to hurt you.

“…Fine,” Atsumu says, frowning and wiping a tear track off your face. “I didn’t mean to…whatever. You’re okay, right? You’re okay. I’ll get you some water.”

“You’re tired, (Y/N), you should rest.” Osamu asks, ignoring his twin stalking off to the kitchen and then returning with a glass of water to press into your shaking hands. You’re not sure you can manage to hold it yourself—the liquid tips almost over the edge and then Atsumu’s hand closes over yours, engulfing you in his grip and steadying the glass, lifting it to your mouth to drink. “Do you want to go to bed?”

His voice hums through his chest, giving you some kind of animal comfort you’re not sure he’s earned. You give the glass back to Atsumu and draw your knees up, crossing them carefully over your bare cunt. “…Yes.”

“Okay. Sure, let’s go to sleep.” Atsumu stands up off the sofa bed and gathers you up like he wants to carry you, but you weakly push his hands away and stand up by yourself. As soon as you’re upright, you feel your knees wobble and you have to place a hand on the wall so you don’t trip over.

“Let us help you,” Osamu chastises, pulling your arm over his shoulders so you can lean on him. You close your eyes for a second and think about how warm he feels—always, both of them, always so warm, since that first day when Atsumu hugged you at the wedding and you were so excited to meet your new family. That feeling.

Love, you think. This is what love looks like to them.

Osamu was right to help you. You wouldn’t have made it down the hallway on your own. Your pussy feels sore and sensitive and your legs shake every time you take a step. Luckily your bedroom is the first one down—you halt in front of the door and reach out but Osamu stops you before you can touch the knob.

“Not this one,” he tells you softly, circling your wrist with his fingers and pulling it back, toward his chest. “Me and ’Tsumu don’t think it’s okay for you to sleep alone anymore.”

“What?” You look up at him uncomprehending, trying to trick yourself into innocence. “But that’s my room…”

“Not anymore, ‘kay? You’re going to sleep with me tonight.” Osamu meets your gaze, and the calm look on his face melts into a subdued smile as he steers you down the hall to his bedroom. “Trust me, I made it comfortable for you. You’ll like it.”

“Trade-off system, I get tomorrow,” Atsumu huffs from somewhere behind you.

Your eyes feel raw. Osamu opens his door and before you go in you look back in the direction of your own room (your bed and the sheets you brought from home and the postcards your friends sent you over the years and the laptop on your desk, waiting for an email from the job you interviewed for) and you wonder, maybe irrationally, when you’ll see it again.

“Just sleep, nii-chan?” you ask quietly.

“Just sleep,” Osamu confirms. “For tonight.”

[dylandrhodes]

Like Blood and a Lemon

Dylan O'brien/ Reader fanfiction | W/c: 14.8k | Warnings: Explicit smut

Based on this ask request: can I request this “alternatively, they’re in a room full of people and somehow only register each other’s presence… one character sneaks away and the other follows and after a little banter they kiss in seclusion” for dylan please?

Um so! here have a whole entire mess of a big old fic? This got SO out of hand y'all, blame Dyl's slut era and my inability to be concise. My first smut in a long while so... Hope it's not too rusty? feedback would mean the world to me ❤️ I really really really hope you enjoy! AHhh 💗😊 also thank you @theinternetisfulloftrash and @dobrienwrites for the help with idea's/ encouragement and editing 😊😊😊😊😊

You knew he was here. 

You didn’t bother casting your eyes around the dimly lit outdoor space, the heat that prickled along the base of your neck was confirmation enough. You could never really narrow it down as to why his presence was consuming, a pulse in the centre of the room that needled under your skin, ran you hot, every time.  

Your personal running theory was that his big-headed “too cool for every room” attitude was so intensely repulsive that you could physically feel it, like a thick breeze, or more accurately, a bad smell in the air. 

You wrinkled your nose at the thought of his smug stance, hands in pockets and skimming gaze that never regarded anyone properly (he wouldn’t stoop so low as to make eye contact unless he had some biting remark to make to you). You lifted your champagne glass to your lips, letting the bubbled burn that kissed your throat and chest to distract you from the thought.  

The reception was packed; loud music filled the marquee and you enjoyed the moment of reprieve from the endless conversations that the night had been. You took a few steps closer to waist high oversized potted plant used to disguise one of the poles that held up the structure. 

After another long sip from your glass, you placed it down on the edge of the planter, lifted one foot just so to ease the pinch of your heel, rolled your ankle in a few circles to the left and then right before you repeated the same motion with the other foot.

Bridesmaid duties the past six months had been plentiful and consuming, rewarding, and fun… but also draining and expensive. Georgie was a long term friend, a girl you’d met in kindergarten and hadn’t left your side for too long since then. Through university, jobs, living in different states you’d remained close, and the offer to be in her wedding was a joy you couldn't pass up. 

However, helping organise the multiple pre-wedding events, the dress searching, and helping Georgie with any small thing she needed had been very tedious at times and you were looking forward to a weekend with nothing at all planned but a long nap and continuing your Criminal Minds rewatch. 

A small sigh crossed your lips as your hand reached across your body, hooked into the sore muscle of your shoulder and rubbed gently, a circle of your fingers to push the tension away. 

Your hand dragged up your neck and into your hair to pull free the literal handful of pins holding up the draping of your hairstyle. Now that the ceremony and pictures were over, you knew you could let your hair down, literally and metaphorically, and the crown of your head ached at the release. 

Once you’d dropped the pins into the edge of the planter, a promise in your mind to come back for them later, you combed one hand through your hair, took your glass in the other to finish the now somewhat warm champagne. 

The now warm bubbles weren’t as appetising but had helped take the edge of the tingle under your skin, the thrum through your spine, the one that told you he was still here, still near enough you couldn’t ignore it. The feeling was almost too familiar now, the kindling of disdain for the persisting awful company you kept finding yourself in these past six months. 

You reassured yourself it wouldn’t be too long till your girls returned from the bathroom and the chatter of friends would wash out the feeling of him, the anger that kissed at your pulse points in his presence.

The empty glass clinked as you placed it down once more on the wide lip of the concrete planter before your hands came to fuss with and smooth out the fabric of your dress. It was ankle-length and two-toned, the fabric that fit around your chest in a way that complimented the curve of your breasts was a deeper sage green and the length of the fabric from the fitted waist down was an almost pink ivory. 

Georgie may have sent you a little insane when she’d told you she’d rejected the fifth makeup artist she’d trialled and needed you to help her find another, but her persistent nature and attention to detail meant you had a gorgeous dress for the event. 

You sighed and cast your eyes around the space.  Your gaze caught the full and thriving dance floor, watching as women’s hair flowed and bounced, arms waving around their bodies, watched men laugh and push open their suit jackets as they rolled their hips. 

You surveyed the men of the crowd once more, an unconscious appraisal, searching for a glimpse of what if, of a smile worth seeking out later, even just for a dance... to get close- the song changed and bright laughter drew your eyes away. 

Your gaze caught on a couple by the bar; a woman who wouldn't be much older than you in a simple black gown, leant back into the arms of her partner, a tall blond man with kind eyes. 

His arms were bundled around her waist, hand flat near her hip, his wedding ring stark against the dark silk of her dress. They were swaying together now to the swell of music, and you watched as he pressed his mouth to her ear, whispered something that made her giggle again, shoulders arching in as her cheeks scrunched with happiness. 

Her hand met his on the low of her hip, tangled them together and she turned and faced him before she led her man out onto the dancefloor, walking backwards and mouthing the lyrics to him. 

Something blue and warm twisted from under your ribs, your breath caught and you blinked away the intimacy of the witnessed moment. You pressed your fingertips to the crest of your ribs, the soft skin between your breasts as if trying to soothe the invisible ache. You drew a lingering breath in, held it for a moment before you exhaled, let it go.  

Weddings always had a way of doing that, making love feel big, but like this tangible thing just out of reach, if only your arm reached a little bit further it could be yours too. It was the ache of that too always, the way your fingers could never quite wrap around it no matter how you tried. 

A sudden touch to the middle of your back between your shoulders made you jump from your thoughts. Startled, you spun around quickly as a gasp caught in your lips. 

“God touchy much? Jesus, girl, chill out” Dylan’s voice was low and firm, twisted in the usual tone of disdain it always held in your company, complemented by a patronising laugh at the end of his statement. 

You rolled your eyes and your arms crossed your chest as you regarded the man in front of you. 

Even in your heels you had to keep your chin tilted up to keep his gaze and you did so defiantly; you wouldn't give this man any kind of pleasure, even the simple pleasure of letting him think he intimated you with his height. 

“What do you want?” You huffed, straightened your spin to stand at your full height, and watched the smirk that tucked itself into his lips. The honey brown of his eyes appraised you, drew from your head down before his gaze flickered up to catch your own. 

A champagne glass was extended to you and you accepted, careful not to let your manicured hand touch Dylan’s, your brow curled upwards at the surprising gesture.

The glass was cold in your touch and you wished to press it against your neck, where warmth had begun to quell. 

It wasn’t because of Dylan - he didn’t intimidate you, even in the sharp lines of his tux or the fact he was actually keeping your gaze. No, it was just the end of summer and your hair was thick against your neck. 

“God you’d think I’d just offered you a loaded gun. Relax sweetheart, the waitress handed me the extra one to empty her tray and you were the person closest to me, I’m not making a move on you” He grumbled and rolled his eyes, lifted his own glass to his lips to take a long sip. 

You looked away as he swallowed, the line of his throat obnoxious in his tux and the crisp white collar of his shirt. 

You scoffed at his words, looked across at him as you pressed the rim of the glass gently to your bottom lip. The fiery contempt grew hot and frustrated in your chest. You hated that he was so good at pulling this out of you, how he commanded your attention, how you needed to see his discomfort, ached to break that stupid cool guy demeanour... just for once.  

“If that’s your move you might want to work a little harder big boy, no wonder you’re dateless tonight” You hummed and sipped the champagne, cold and crisp like you preferred and you chased the sweet bite of it with a lick of your lips. 

His eyes watched your mouth with a frown and angry curiosity. He had a way of looking at you like that like he needed to tell you off for something, like you personally were responsible for his poor mood. 

You’d seen Dylan be perfectly charming with others but when he engaged with you, it was like he was repulsed; all cut off sentences, short regards or it was digging teases, needling remarks to get under your skin, garnering a reaction. Just a game to win before walking away. 

You hypothesized that he simply wasn’t used to women calling him out on his shit, maybe you were one of the first people to just show him you were so completely disinterested in the 'cool boy' act. 

It was like he expected you to blush and giggle and push at his shoulder, agree with his jokes even when they didn’t really make sense or act interested in the way he’d drone on about some topic like an expert. He regarded you almost like he couldn’t understand you, you didn’t fit his usual script or some precedent he held in his mind. 

“Aw, you've been watching me? Checking I didn’t bring another woman tonight and break your heart?” he asked and you let out a dry cold laugh, swallowing your biting response demanding that of course you weren’t checking. 

You couldn't care less if Dylan was hopelessly dateless or bought a whole entire surprise wife along. It was just that it was hard to picture Dylan without some tall beautiful girl on his arm (as he usually had), if not the same girl he’d brought to the rehearsal dinner. Mainly you had wondered what poor girl he’d drag along to essentially ignore all night, like he tended to do. 

So yes, you’d be surprised to know he hadn’t used his plus one, again, not that you cared, but now you’d have to endure him going all smooth flirt Dylan trying to pick up since he was here alone. 

Before you could reply Dylan was speaking again, taking a step closer, making you tip your head back further to keep his eye contact. 

“Besides, it’s not me being alone tonight you should be worrying about, the whole ‘beautiful bridesmaid all alone at the wedding’ act really isn’t going to do it for most guys” He exhaled, a smug grin on his lips. 

“You know a smile wouldn’t hurt sweetheart, or a laugh... maybe even looking like you actually want to be here” His voice was low and condescending. 

You wanted to tip the end of his champagne glass as he sipped it, make him choke a little and sputter the alcohol all over his tuxedo. 

You swallowed your frustration, not letting him win by seeing your annoyance as you parted your lips and raised the hand not holding your glass to your chest. “Oh, Dyl” you said, paused for dramatic effect, because really- fuck this asshole. 

Telling you to smile more? 

Really? 

He had no idea how much you’d put in to make this day work. 

He would never care to think you’d been up since five, had problem solved a missing garter, sourced cat allergy medication for the bride’s mother and intercepted an uncle that was very much NOT on the guest list. 

Not to mention, you’d done it all with a bright smile on your face and in heels and a dress that while flattering, was tight on your chest with each breath (in truth half your energy had been making sure you didn’t spill out of said dress while running around like a mad woman)

The bastard had probably rolled out of bed after nine, had champagne with the other groomsmen and played video games in his boxers before taking his time to get into his tuxedo. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” your fingers trailed over the top of your breasts, found your gold pendant necklace and fingered the chain, forced yourself not to grin when you watched Dylan’s eyes fall to where you’d drawn his attention.

Boys, they really were so easy. 

“You don’t have to tease me like a lovesick little schoolboy just to tell me that, you know? You can just tell me, I can see how much you want to” You looked at him through your lashes, fluttering them in a few short blinks. 

You let your lips draw into a smile; a sweet grin you’d usually save for a boy you were actually interested in. In this case, playing the role of the coy agreeable girl Dylan always seemed to be frustrated that you weren’t. 

He almost faltered at your words, something in his eyes flickered sharp between blinks before he looked at you once more, eyes dark as he finished his drink, placing it down to the side before he tucked his hands into his pockets. 

Dylan took half a step closer, the corner of his jaw bunched, muscles jumped as he stared, quiet. He let out a soft exhale and his hand came up to touch a strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes, pushing it away as though it had personally wronged him. 

His eyes sharpened on you, a smirk twisted on his lips and he hummed. 

He dropped his hand to your bare shoulder, drew his fingertips along the line of it as he spoke. 

“Oh sweetheart, don’t play a game you’re not ready for” He all but whispered, close enough that the words were held between you like a secret. 

You could feel the heat of his body like this, smell the expensive clean scented cologne he wore, hear the intake of his breath. 

“Why?” You challenged,

“You scared I’ll win?” You continued, Your heart thrummed heavy and fast, the pulse in your neck fluttering under your skin, your throat tightened with a swallow. 

Dylan was close, the closest he’d ever been to you and it was kind of overwhelming - as much as you didn’t want to admit that. He was just all height and man and shoulders and had his intensity focused down on you. 

He smirked and shook his head. Dylan looked at you, brown eyes steeped in consideration and his hand dropped from your shoulder to retreat back into his pocket.  

“Sweetheart, we both know you don’t really wanna win, do you? You just want to make me work hard enough to prove to you I’m worth losing to, until I’m making you beg for me to win” His words were husky, low and deliberate, considering how they fell off his tongue. 

Oh. Beg. 

The heat that bloomed in the low of your stomach at that word surprised you, rushing up the centre of your body; a feeling as if you had missed the last step on a staircase or driven too quickly over a dip in the road. 

You were surprised at the tight pull behind your belly button, the twist of it; the way you wanted for just a moment, the need for more, to agree. It shocked you the way you felt the pull to draw closer, to keep Dylan’s eyes on you.  

He looked at you as his thumb and pointer finger took your chin in his firm hold, keeping you there as he hummed - a throaty sound - as if pleased at some answer he had found from just looking at you. 

“Yeah, thought so” He mumbled the words for himself and drew himself back with two careful steps. 

His eyes gave a heavy lidded blink as if suddenly coming back to himself and a hand reached up, lightly disturbing the handsome set of his styled hair. It was brushed back from his face, light gel holding it back in place, slightly askew now at his touch. 

Dylan’s hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket and pulled a smoke out between his pinched fingers. He lifted it to his mouth as if in reflex, a small frown marring his usual sure gaze, as if troubled by the action of drawing the unlit smoke to his lips. 

Dylan paused before he moved it instead up to be tucked behind his ear. His jaw jumped again as he looked up and past your shoulder, and a typical smug grin grew across his lips. 

His shoulders loosened, a hairline of a frown over his brow before his hand found his previously abandoned glass he collected himself with a sip of champagne. 

“Ladies” Dylan greeted with a nod of his head and you spun around to catch your three friends returning from the bathroom. 

Emily and Annie were a giggling mess half-tucked into each other's arms, fighting about something on the phone held between them. Olive, however, had her eyes sharply on you as she approached, gaze jumped between yourself and Dylan. 

“O'Brien” She nodded in greeting, the other two girls not caring to acknowledge him, tipsy laughter still spilling out from them as they seemed to be drafting a text of some kind, going off their bickering. 

Dylan nodded back, and tilted his glass at Olive in mocked cheers, used to the less than friendly regard. Olive hummed, unimpressed and looked at him blankly for a moment before her arm wrapped around yours, and she leaned against your side, her long hair brushing your bare arm. 

“Honey, Ems is finally texting headboard boy back after- well, you know- and we need your help” She requested and you quickly found the two other girls pressed into your space, a phone being pushed into your hands. 

“Please, come on you know you’re the best at d-” 

“Oooh my god” you laughed brightly, cut off Emily as you shook your head fondly 

“Okay, okay, I can help but I need more champagne” you laughed at your friend's happy little drunk cheers at your agreeance. 

Your cheeks flushed a sudden dark red, heat pricked at the back of your neck and your spine stiffened, the weight of eyes on you. 

You pulled your gaze up from the flurry of your friends, all curled hair and sweet perfumes, long nails pointing at the message. 

The tightness in your spine electrified when your gaze caught Dylan’s. 

He was already watching you with darkened eyes, staring shamelessly. His usual grin was replaced by the line of his firm pressed lips. Your breath caught. 

You raised your brows at him, a slight tilt of your head and a small grin as you glanced up, a silent ask of what he wanted. You waited for a roll of his eyes, a snarky comment before he made his exit to the dance floor. 

However he didn’t surrender; his gaze lingered, dropping over you like heavy rain and you shivered, your nipples pebbling against the satin of your dress. The intention was quiet, heavy and your heart thundered in your chest, you felt caught in his look. 

Your fingers curled tighter around the phone in your hold, and you swallowed thickly, lashes fluttered with a stuttered blink as you fought not to drop your gaze away. Dylan wouldn’t win this little game he’d decided to play, whatever it was, you wouldn’t allow him to. 

Dylan’s lips parted and his tongue brushed the swell of them in a quick pass. His hand reached to part the button of his blazer, hand tucked into his pants pocket. His eyes took you in once more, drew down over your neck shoulders - all of you. 

The familiar smirk grew across his lips once more, and he loitered for a moment longer before he gave a slight shake of his head and turned away from you. Your eyes dropped as soon as he stepped away, heat rushed heavy through your veins, and frustration singed at your pulse points. 

Your skin prickled cold with his absence and you tried to settle into your friend's rapid-fire words that were flurrying around you, tried to follow the words on the screen and make your thumbs coordinate with your brain and friend's suggestions. 

“What was that?” Olive’s voice was a low whisper in your ear and you just shook your head quickly, because... yeah, actually what the fuck was that? 

After another round of drinks and two sent texts later, you found yourself on the dancefloor crowded between Annie and a few unfamiliar faces, happily moving to the thudding bass of the music. 

The pair of you had tucked yourselves deeper into the crowd when you couldn’t chase the feeling of Dylan off your skin. Your body thrummed, your nerves had been awake and unsettled since that weird - moment, whatever you could even label it, and you had a feeling twisted through you that you couldn’t settle.  

The smug fuck probably was somewhere talking his way into some other girl's pants, riding high on making you feel uncomfortable, and teasing you. Dylan seemed to get some specific joy out of toying with you. It was like it was his favourite ego boost to feed off, content with pushing you until you snapped, or ignoring you to assert a feeling of power. 

You turned to face Annie, giggled as she leant back with a shimmy and her hands dragged up to ruffle her own hair. The heat of a body behind you made your pulse quicken, the feeling a man taller and wider than you, until you saw a flash of blond over your shoulder. Something cold bit through you, it wasn't that you wanted it to be Dylan- it was just, you kept expecting him- waiting for the punchline of his intense gaze earlier to be dropped on you. 

Although, for a moment there he’d really looked at you like- you shook your head and closed your eyes, felt large hands fit at your waist and you leant back into the hold, focused on moving to the music and the new body behind you. 

The driving fire in the pit of your stomach felt like a hunger, and you knew it was the lingering need to correct Dylan. To call out the way he had pinned you earlier with his words, spoke to you like he knew you, like he had any reason to be concerned with your satisfaction, like he knew what you wanted, needed, the arrogan fucker. 

He’d addressed you like you were some lost little girl, like you were some fool, like Dylan knew something you didn’t. 

You huffed in frustration at the memory of his smugness; of each moment over the past few months at the events leading up to the wedding itself. The way Dylan would go out of his way to single you out, making a calling comment that drew attention to you in a crowd. Only to then completely ignore you when you attempted to place nice for the sake of your betrothed friends. 

Your mind lingered on the way he’d trotted around beautiful dates to the engagement party and rehearsal dinner, as if they were some accessory, how he’d stare whenever you’d make the effort to speak to them as if affronted you felt you could interact with these women. 

Resentment banded across the line of your shoulders, chest, the intake of your breath rattled with frustration - resentment at yourself for the moment of weakness where you’d craved his approval, his touch when he’d crowded you close. 

You resented the way he made you want him when you couldn’t stand him, the way you felt no better than the other girls he so easily played. 

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut and shook your head, felt your hair stick slightly to the light sheen of sweat on your back from the last hour or so of dancing surrounded by warm bodies. 

You reached a hand back to wrap around the neck of the man who was dancing with you now, body swaying with his. His hands kept a respectful grip on your sides, and you indulged in the contact, the brush of his broad chest against you. 

The music swelled from one song to another, the thrumming beat loud in your ears and you tried to let yourself fall into it, to ignore the pacing of your mind over the one man you didn't want to think about. 

You tipped your head back and let it find the man's shoulder to rest against as you pressed that breath closer, only mildly disappointed when his hands stayed safely above your hips. You’d have let him push it a bit further if he had tried. 

With a rush of body heat, you felt Annie press closer to you suddenly and your eyes fluttered open, her hands took yours in her own and you locked your eyes with hers. She gave an approving little nod as her eyes flickered up to the man pressed to you, a grin on her lips, her silent way of confirming he was hot. 

You let out a bright laugh at your friend’s not so subtle approval, fondness warm for her and returned the wink she sent you as you watched her raise her arms over her head, backing away from you and resume her dancing. 

You closed your eyes once more, more determined than ever to push Dylan from your mind, with a handsome man pressed close, swaying his hips in time with yours. 

Fuck Dylan and his stupid boyish games, and his way of getting in your head and his face, and the way he looked down at you with the width of his shoulders. 

Fuck the way he called you sweetheart, the smell of him, the span of hands, his fingers, the warm honey brown of his eyes-  your groaned  and your brow fell into a light frown, the champagne must have gone to your head. Too much too fast or something. 

Sure… he was obviously handsome, in that way that couldn’t really be ignored, but you’d never thought about him like that, really, you hadn’t. 

(Okay maybe that one time but there was a lot of tequila involved and a mechanical bull and you were sure there wasn't one person in that bar who hadn't been thinking the same thing you had) 

Looks aside, all but completely unconsidered to you, he was just infuriating cocky Dylan, you really didn’t need him to become 'HOT infuriating cocky' Dylan. 

You blinked your eyes open, hoping to catch sight of the waitstaff with a tray of bubbles nearby, just one more glass to clear your head. A distraction. Or maybe something to share with this new stranger, get to know him better. 

Your gaze drew across the busy room, the moving bodies, the bride on top of the groom's shoulders, she laughed loud and bright into the night air the strung up fairy lights reflected off the details of her dress, before they finally settled on the inevitable; on Dylan. 

He was at the edge of the dancefloor, his tuxedo jacket open, the crisp white of his shirt fitted handsomely against his torso. His hands were in his pockets, shoulders relaxed and he was watching. He was watching you, eyes dark and resolute and unmoving, his face relaxed, sure, the set of his jaw certain. 

You stuttered your next breath, a shaky inhale through your nose as you felt the entire weight of his eyes on you, pinning you. Your heels felt bolted to the floor and your knees felt weak, the room fell to a hush around you and your eyes kept in the line of Dylan’s, even as bodies swayed and moved between you he remained, gaze constant. 

Maybe this was his punchline, the way you couldn’t look away from him, the way your heart kicked in a rhythm of “yes”, the way the hands on you felt too big, fingers too thick, grip too heavy, the body behind you all wrong.  

You breathed, and you wanted, and you couldn’t look away. 

Dylan seemed to finally acknowledge that you had met his stare. Who knows how long now he’d been watching you, seemingly without a care for what was happening around him. His lips drew into a small grin, his look knowing. Dylan's eyes gave a small flicker up to the body behind you and his brow frowned, tilting his head back in a small gesture and his lips parted with what you could only assume was a low, clipped laugh. 

“Oh please,” he mouthed, the word steeped with sarcasm even in the silence of it, just in the way you saw his mouth form it. His lips were twisted in distaste, utter disapproval. 

You pressed your lips together and felt the anger that had built in your chest ignite with a deep, drawing inhale, like a flicker of a match in a gasoline wet room your body ran hot - burning. Your fingers curled into fists and you rolled your eyes at him, you wouldn’t let him win, you just couldn’t. 

He didn't give in to your admittedly childish push back; he just shook his head ever so slightly and kept his gaze on you, looking down through the line of his gaze, eyes assured. He had height over you still somehow, even at this distance. 

His hand reached up and he plucked the smoke from behind his ear, pinched it between his thumb and pointer to place it between his lips. The smoke rested there as he pulled a lighter from his trouser pockets, and fidgeted it between his long fingers. He raised his brows at you a final time before he turned his gaze away. 

Dylan lingered a moment longer, allowed you to keep your eyes on him as he turned, and made his way through the crowds and out past the light of the Marquee, till he was just a shadow getting smaller with distance. 

You took a deep breath, paused, placed your hands over the ones on your waist and eased them away in a gentle touch, with a twist of your body you were free and walking out after Dylan.

It didn’t take too long to find him, a straight shot of where he’d exited from the large marquee. The night air was prickling and fresh against your skin and you shivered as you followed a path that led down to a garden on the lower section of the estate. 

The marquee was on the main lawn, overlooked the acreage of the land that sprawled out below it, a smaller garden tucked below the balcony led to by a stone staircase from the upper lawn. 

Most of it wasn't visible from the marquee or main lawn, even where it let out to a sandstone balcony of sorts. You only knew of its existence because the photographer had chosen it as a location for some of the bridal party photos earlier in the day. 

You’d gone on gut feeling he’d be there, the same feeling that told you when you had his gaze, so you were barely surprised when you found him leant against a half stone wall at the edge of the garden, head tilted back as he exhaled smoke into the air. 

He almost looked like a shadow, only illuminated by the bright light of the moon and the fairy lights wrapped through the occasion tree in the garden. He didn’t look at you, but you knew he’d heard you, the sound of your heels against the gravel, knew he’d noticed you from the way his chin turned just slightly towards you before he spoke.  

“You get what you want?” 

His voice washed over you, through you, fuel to the fire and you rolled your eyes, sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and crossed your arms in front of you, a feeble barrier to the way your heart was pounding out of your chest. 

“What do you think?” you asked, surprised at the way your voice carried out just above a whisper. The words had sounded different in your head, stronger, more biting and sarcastic. Off your lips, they had sounded seeking, a question, a surrender. 

Dylan chuckled, gazed at his feet as he shook his head. 

He lifted the cigarette up to his lips and drew in a long pull, dropped it away from his lips and held the smoke for a beat. He looked at you and smirked. 

Faint smoke bloomed from his nostrils as he exhaled shortly before he blew the rest from between his pursed lips as he watched you, and his finger tapped the cigarette to let the ash fall by his feet. 

“You’re out here with me, so no, I don’t think he was giving you anything close to what you want” Dylan said and licked his lips. 

Heat pulsed in your chest, through the centre of you, your arms dropped to your sides and a shiver rushed through you that you did your best to suppress. 

“You were the one who couldn’t seem to look away” you retorted, the words soft once more, lacking the heat of your intention. 

Dylan hummed and nodded, a simple shrug of his shoulder, as if surrendering to the accusation. 

Dylan took a short draw and exhale of the cigarette and then three steps closer to you, until you could see the slightest shadow of stubble that had begun to push through from his clean shave for the event. 

He dropped the smoke to the floor between you, stepped on it with the sole of his dress shoe as he moved closer still. His hand raised to take your cheek in his hand, the depth of his eyes on you. 

“Oh baby, why would I look away when you look so pretty pretending you don’t know what you need is right in front of you” Dylan’s voice was a low rumble and his breath smelt of cigarettes and champagne, the smallest hint of mint under it all. 

His thumb drew down over your cheek in a tender brush, till the pad of it came to rest to the left of the pout of your lips. 

“Watching you dance in that dress, remembering the way you looked when I told you I knew you wanted to beg me, it was hard not to watch” Dylan’s eyes were sinister, heavy and the intention in the depths of them made your breath quiver. 

You felt your chin tilt up just so, goosebumps bloomed up your neck from his simple touch, the way your chest pressed against the fitted fabric of your dress with each inhale. 

“You snobby, egotistical, entitled little brat... thinking you can just talk to me like that, like you know me, like you have some right to me! Toying with women for the ego boost, all these big words but when it comes down to it I doubt you can even m-” 

The fingers that had been resting lightly on your cheek dug in, thumb moved to the other side of your cheek and gripped just enough for your lips to purse, words cut off with a short inhale of surprise. 

He cut you off with a low whisper of your name - a warning? a question? A tease? you couldn't tell. 

He repeated it once more and you felt his exhale against your lips, his head bowed closer until your eyes closed without thought, heart hammering somewhere heavy in your throat. 

“Be nice” he whispered. 

Dylan let out a soft sound from the back of his throat, an exhale passed between you two and then he was closer still, and then Dylan was kissing you. 

The press of Dylan’s lips against yours was rough and consuming, a dry pressure of lips to yours, a hint of the taste of him before a rasp of stubble with the tilt of his head.  His thumb took your chin, slid up under your bottom lip to tug down just slightly, just enough to keep your lips parted, before his tongue wet and warm licked into your mouth. 

If you thought you’d been on fire before you didn’t know how to describe the way Dylan’s touch had consumed you. 

Not fire, not now, not something eating and destroying. It was like Dylan had let waves build inside of you, like your body was the weight of the tide, twisting deep ocean pull that dragged you under, softened the sound of the world to your ears. 

It was only a tease of the tongue before he drew back, lips brushed yours as he lingered. His arm wrapped tight around your waist and pulled you in firmly, bodies drew together until your breasts were pressed to his chest and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. 

“Be nice” he repeated, a mutter against your lips and let out a short exhale before he was kissing you deep and dirty, licking into your mouth in a way that made your head spin, your pulse kicking in your throat. 

You shivered and let him kiss the breath out of you; let his hands hold you up, let him press your hips together and make your mind wash blank.

Dylan. Dylan’s hands on your body. Dylan kissing you like he couldn’t breathe without your mouth. Dylan making you want to beg for more, like he’d so smugly bragged to you. 

You pulled back suddenly with the thought, the slick sound of your lips parting loud in the night and you were breathless, panting, as you spoke low and rushed.

“This doesn’t mean- you don’t, just because we, I still can’t stand you or your ego, you’re still a-” Dylan cut you off with a low huff, his hands gripped you tighter, pulled you closer and he kissed you just once, a comsuimg wet brush of lips. 

“What did I say baby? Be nice, for just a little bit, I know you can be. Don’t you want to be good for me, if I make it good for you? Let me give you what you deserve” He spoke low and husky and something within you sprung loose, like a wound up coil that slipped. Dylan was under your skin and you wanted him inside you too, you wanted him to drive his body into yours and make good on the long looks and promises, you wanted him to prove it. 

You wanted him, and you weren’t strong enough to stop yourself any longer. 

The waves that he’d filled you with were breaking over each other - the white wash buzzing through your veins as you pushed onto your toes and wrapped your arms around Dylan’s neck, pulling him into you. 

Your lips met again, feverish and hot, Dylan’s hand slid from your waist to the low of your back, fingers fisted the satin of your dress as he pressed you closer still, your hips formed to his. 

His other hand found the back of your neck, fingers pushed up into your hair and held your head in place and angled it for himself as he curled his body down over you to kiss you deeper, making up for the way he towered over you. 

He pressed closer still, moving into you and your back arched as you keened up into the warmth of Dylan’s body, on the high of your toes with your head tipped back to keep the kiss going. 

You wavered, almost stumbled when Dylan’s hand found your arse; skimming over it with an open palm before he gripped gently, an appreciative groan ripped from his throat. Your heart pulsed at the needing sound, and your belly hollowed with a shaking breath between parted lips before you kissed again, chasing the taste of him. 

Dylan’s other hand moved from the back of your neck to the front of it, the pad of his thumb found the hollow of your throat and strummed a single touch that made goosebumps rush down your arms, your nipples peaking. 

You pulled back from Dylan, drew in a shaking breath and watched the determined furrow of his brow before his face was tucked against the curve of your neck, lips kissing between gentle grazes of teeth, mapping the skin. 

You whimpered and your feet stumbled again, swayed with the weight of Dylan pressing into you, the way his hands pulled and his body dove into yours at the same time. He grunted into your skin and both his hands moved quickly to your hips, turned with you and between a kiss to your neck and his teeth on your earlobe your back was pressed to the stone wall he’d been leant against earlier.  

The support of the wall had you back on your toes, your hand found the back of Dylan’s head to pull him away from your neck. Breathless, and the skin of your neck tingling from his attention you leant up to him again, seeking his mouth. 

He paused before you could meet and licked his lips, one hand on your cheek. 

“Alright?” he asked, the hand on your hip squeezing as he crowded you against the wall, body hot and pressed completely to yours. 

You nodded, distracted, wanting his mouth and not thinking much past it, the wall had stopped the weakness of your knees, allowed Dylan to press closer still and that was all that mattered. You tilted your head back and parted your lips just so, leaned up silently asking for him to bridge the distance, to come back to you and keep kissing you. 

He dipped closer but not close enough and you bit back a whine that was climbing up your throat. 

“What?” You snapped at him instead, brow raised. 

“I want to hear you say it, not just a nod... all of this alright?” Dylan asked in a whisper and you ignored the sweet pinch in your chest. 

“I thought you promised to give me what I need?” You replied, flushed at the notion of telling Dylan you wanted him, this, showing him was one thing, but admitting was another. 

“Don’t do that, tell me” Dylan breathed, ignored your attempt at distraction, didn’t take the bait, the fight you wanted. 

“Dylan” you mumbled 

He smirked and his lips pressed to the right of your mouth, a soft kiss that he trailed across your cheek and to the hinge of your jaw, till his lips were against your ear. 

His hand found the dip of your waist, fingers drew till his thumb found the space between your breasts, his fingers resting against the skin just below the curve of it.  

“Come on, just tell me... tell me and then it's yours, baby, tell me you want this with me and I won’t stop unless you say. I’ll work you till you're finally satisfied. If you let me... want me… I need you on me until we can’t anymore; so just tell me.” Dylan breathed

You bit back another whine that fought at your lips and you nodded quickly, shivered when his teeth bit into the side of your neck and sucked the skin briefly before he let it go. 

“Dylan, please, I want you, I want you to touch me, make me feel good just- come on, kiss me” Your hands gripped at Dylan’s shoulders and pulled and he finally gave in. 

Dylan's hand fell to your hip, dragging you into him as your mouths met hotly again. A sigh of relief passed your lips and your fingers found their way into his hair and they gripped, rough when his tongue licked hotly over yours. 

His fingers gripped at your hip and then found your thigh, lifted it to fit around his waist, anchoring you to his body as he pressed in closer, until your lower back was flush with the wall behind you. You were trapped between the solid line of the wall and the firmness of Dylan. 

Your hand twisted in the front of his shirt as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, you shuddered into him and the ocean in your stomach rolled in steady crashing waves, over and over, coming into the shore. 

Dylan’s hand pushed up from between your breasts and found the strap of your dress, slipped his fingers underneath and wound it in his grip till the fabric was even tighter against your breasts. 

He pulled away breathless, pressed his forehead to yours and stared down at the thin strap he was holding, shook his head as his gaze drew to the curve of your cleavage. He twisted the strap tighter again, made your breast lift, push up just over the cup of the dress. 

“Fucking, driving me, crazy, these tiny straps” he gritted out, shook his head and a familiar look of frustration crossed his face, but it felt totally different now, the thundering look on his eyes when his hands were gripping you greedily. 

“All fuckin’ night just these tiny little straps” he cursed under his breath, shook his head as his fingers eased the strap out of his touch and let it lay back against your skin. 

He skimmed his fingers across the top of your chest, and his mouth was soon to follow the path of his fingers. He sucked hungry kisses from your shoulder to your chest, wet drags of lips and occasional slip of greedy tongue on your skin. 

Dylan all but nuzzled his cheek against your left breast as one hand found the strap again, slipped it off your shoulder and you felt it fall down the outside of your arm. His fingers brushed the bare skin before he made quick work of the other strap, both hands coming up to free your arms from the straps. 

“Couldn’t stop looking at you all day, all fucking day, you in this dress, the fucking devil I swear, should have had my hands on you all night, all day, you let me have you and I would never last without having my hands on you like this” His voice was strung out, wanting. 

His hand found your thigh once more, tugged you in tighter until the hardness pressing against his pants found the heat of you covered by the thin fabric of your panties. Even though the fabric, the promise of him had you clenching, electricity wound tight from behind your belly button and pulsed up through your chest. 

Your hips rocked to find the weight of him once more, a rush of friction that made you shiver, his fingers digging into your thigh until his nails stung you. You gasped and your head fell back just as Dylan’s fingers hooked into the fabric where it met between your breasts and tugged down with a rough grip, until the fitted fabric was underneath them, and the your breasts were exposed, your nipples pebbling harder in the cold night air. Dylan’s hand cupped you, thumb found your nipple and drew over it as his mouth found the other breast, kissing at the newly exposed skin “Pretty fucking girl, pretty fucking tits” He muttered hotly into the skin.   

Your shoulders quivered with the shake that zapped through the centre of your body, the way your core twisted with divine pleasure at the tortured sounding compliment. His lips tongue and teeth made work of your skin still he found your nipple and kissed the bud of it, sucked at it gently until you gasped and arched your back, a hand fell to his head to hold him there. 

He groaned in response, sucked and licked the flat of his tongue in a greedy taste of you, made the skin ache in his mouth until his teeth sunk in to soothe it, grazed down til his teeth found the bud of your nipple and bit, tugged in a way that made you swear, nails dug into the back of his head. 

“Dylan” you whimpered, unable to help the plea of his name, the way his mouth devouring your breasts made you roll your hips, the pulse of your clit heady and wanting in the depth of you, chasing pressure, touch. 

Your cunt pressed hot against the shape of his full cock in his pants, and the contact was an immediate craving you ached to satiate, you needed, needed. His hand dropped from your breast, mouth moved to the other, not yet wet from his saliva, not bearing the marks of his teeth. 

His now free hand quickly found the swell of your ass, took a handful and wound your waist down onto him, giving you the rush of friction that made your mouth drop open in a punched out gasp. 

“Yes” the word was barely spoken, mouthed as you dropped your head forward, cheek pressed to of Dylan’s hair. 

“Yes, so good, you’re so good” 

Dylan muttered, punctuated the words with small pressing thrusts of his hips into yours, little rolls of his hips that let you feel the shape of him, the head of his cock where it was thicker, the length of it all. 

You ached, your stomach twisted sharply with need and your cunt throbbed desperately in your panties, a small gush of wetness dampening them now, with the way Dylan was roughly riding himself against you. 

“God, god” Dylan praised hotly under his breath between kissing at the skin between your breasts and his hand pulled you tighter to him, gripped your ass, keeping your body anchored to his, the pressing of your hips a rhythmic crash, the ache between you thick and growing. 

You whined when his fingers found your breast once more, pinched at your nipple as his mouth took yours, wet and hot, tongue searching. you hooked your leg tighter around your hip as he continued to drive your body into the wall, the fabric of your dress catching on the stones behind you. 

You slipped a hand down toward the heat of your bodies, where you were pressed close and tried to blindly find the button of Dylan’s slacks, interrupted by his belt, you wanted more, you needed skin, touch, you needed him to give you more. 

“More” You whispered into his mouth between dizzying kisses, hand fumbled at his waistband, drunk in your hunger for him. 

“Dyl” You muttered out of frustration, found the shape of him hot and thick over the fabric of his trousers, your palm cradled him, fingers massaging, grasping.

Your other hand slipped down and found his belt, tugged at the thick leather and tried to feed it through the loop only for your fingers to catch and stumble over it. Dylan’s hand found yours, laced your fingers with his and drew it up tp place your hand on his chest. 

“Like this” he muttered and bit his way down past your chin to your throat, kissing and sucking wetly at your skin. His hands gripped tight to your lower back and ass, encouraged the roll of your hips into him once more, shifted you to fit his thigh between your legs. 

He tugged your body down with the next drag of your hips and you gasped wetly, at the pressure of his muscular thigh against your aching center. You hiccuped a breath at the heat that pulsed through you, stars began to shiver behind your eyelids. 

“There we go” He breathed, his voice thick with satisfaction as you half opened your eyes, a dazed blink that caught his gaze on you, dark and heavy and hot. You whined, barred your hips down over and over in small rocks that had the dampness of your panties dragging against the slightly rough fabric of his suit pant leg. 

“That’s it baby” He encouraged and you shivered, his hand gripped your ass before letting his palm flatten, pulled you in and down at the same time he pushed his thigh up. The pressure made your hands fist in the front of his dress shirt, pull at the neatly pressed white material and bunched it thickly until it untucked from his pants all together. 

He pulled your whining mouth back to his own, licked into it in a claiming kiss, kissing you soundly until you had to pull away for a hiccuped breath as you wove your hips in a hungry figure eight. 

The night air was heavy around you, hot and holding you up, you felt draped across it breathless and needing. 

On the next roll of hips, you drew yourself closer, shifted and hooked your leg higher over Dylan’s waist until the heat of your cunt pressed itself to the heft of his bulge once more. 

“No, like this” You whispered, arched your back to press your cunt harder to him, small rocking thrusts of your hips that had you aching for him, had you empty and needing

Dylan groaned low and throaty and with a breath his hand was pressed between you two, cupping your cunt, thumb drawing over the fabric of your panties in a soft fidget like he couldn’t help himself.

“Fuck, sweetheart you wanna give me this so bad, don’t you? You’d let me fuck you right here against this wall, get you on my cock and chase away the ache huh? You’d let me make a mess of you right here baby I know you would let me- god” 

His words choked off with desire and he kissed you with a firm press of lips before he softened, sucked gently at your bottom lip as he kissed you, slowly tonguing you.

You flushed hot at the words, breath rasping as your thighs squeezed, you would- you wanted. 

He pulled away at the same time his thumb began to rub teasingly light circles over the centre of you. 

“Oh baby, you just wanna be good for me and take my cock, don’t you? Want us both to feel good, can feel you’re already wet for me, god” Dylan sounded torn as his thumb found the edge of your panties, eased into the heat of it, found the slickness of you in a feather-light touch. 

You nodded shakily, pushed your hips into his touches, impatient. 

“Can’t fuck you here though baby” he whispered, voice sweet like a secret in the night air, words kind and low, curling around you. 

“I can’t, not against this wall, gotta do you on a bed sweetheart like you deserve” 

Frustration twisted sharp it the center of you, at the notion of the loss of his touch, of him playing games again.

“Don’t give me that bull- oh” your words fluttered at the feeling of the pad of his thumb gently caressing the tender skin of where your thigh met the hottest part of you. 

“That bullshit, Dylan, I’m not some little princess, I know what I want Dylan I want you, I want you to fuck me, I want you cock inside me, out here against this wall, I don’t care, I don’t need a bed” you pressed closer to him with the words, kissed your way across his jaw to his hot mouth, sucked at his bottom lip until his mouth parted and he kissed back, his hands gripped you tighter. 

Yes yes yes you thought, finally, he’d give you what you wanted. 

Just as you went to adjust your hips to help his thumb find you properly, touch you how you wanted, Dylan pulled back from the kiss and his thumb pulled away to lay over your panties once more. 

He shook his head tightly in reply, caught your jaw in his fingers and held you still, looked at you with dark eyes, as if considering you, fighting himself on something, weighing out the option.  

“Dylan” you whispered, asked, pressed yourself to his body, bare breasts warm against the rough brush of his dress shirt. He shook his head and your lips parted to argue with him once more, scared he’d deny this again, deny what you both needed, but he was quick to delve back in to kiss you hotly. He took your mouth for himself his fingers resumed his teasing over the fabric covering your pussy from him. 

“No I can’t, god baby-” he cut himself off with a huff, his forehead pressed to yours, his hot breath against your lips, pressed closer to you in a way that made your legs part further, the centre of you aching. 

“I won’t be able to hold back when I’m inside you sweetheart, I won’t trust myself be careful with you- Need somewhere soft and warm to pin you down and ruin you don’t I? Need something I can press you into, not gonna hurt you. Not unless you want it from me” he rambled and his cupped fingers tapped a soft smack over your pussy, lingered before he smacked it once more before his thumb smoothed down, soothing. 

Your cunt clenched at the touch, his words and you tightened around the emptiness inside you, wetness blooming further into the soft white fabric Dylan was toying with. 

“God fine. But Dylan, please- then, I want” you gasp, tears pinch your eyes and you needed it, you ached with it you can't pull yourself away, not now not when he’s got his fingers so close to taking you, not when you’ve got the promise of him under you. 

He can’t be asking you to stop now, he can’t be saying he can’t do this here not when he’s driven his body into yours like this, shipwrecked you in his hands, halfway taken apart by him. 

Your hips chase up into his touch, greedy and you nod almost desperately when he finally presses his fingers just hard enough to make electricity throb from your clit, your pussy swollen with its desire, blooming under his touch. 

“Yes, yes I want that” you mumbled, a shaky breath as his fingers gentle circled, the friction hot and barely satiating but enough to help the ache of your whole body. 

“Oh baby” he whispered, and a hand found your winding hips, gripped them still as his fingers found the edge of your panties and pulled the fabric down till his, fingertips finally found the wet heat of your pussy. 

You whimpered, arms wrapped around his neck and a hand gripped to the back of his neck, nails biting. “Dylan” 

“Wet, so pretty and wet” Dylan said under his breath, stared down where his hand was taking you, watched his own finger as he parted the folds of you, just enough to make you feel emptier somehow, aching. 

“You need this, don’t you? Need me to make it better, feel you- Can’t just let me try and treat you right can you? Pushing this pussy against me, begging me to fit this cock into you, like it's not all I can think about- can’t let me do this right, fuck” Dylan gruffed out and you shook your head. 

You bit your bottom lip sharply, blood rushed your ears and you wanted to smack the side of his handsome head, his fingers were so close to where you wanted them, you just needed to be full of him. 

“Never made it easy for you, m’not gonna start now” You breathed, reached down and found Dylan’s wrist, fingers wrapped around it as if you could urge him closer, but Dylan resisted your touch easily, kept his fingers determined in the barely-there strokes over you.  

“You fucking impossible woman” Dylan’s voice was a whisper and he shook his head before one of his fingers pushed inside you to his knuckle. He let you adjust with one breath before he drew back and pushed back inside with a second finger tucked beside it, till they sat at the hilt in your pulsing wetness. 

“Fuck” you bit off in a whimper, “oh my god fuck Dylan” you mumbled, your cunt tightned around him, breath trembled through your body as pleasure hollowed your stomach. 

“Beautiful, impossible woman” he uttered, voice broken and a little depraved like pushing inside of you had pulled him open as well. 

He let out a soft sound, somewhere in his throat and his fingers tucked up in a loose curl, the pads of his fingers gently stroked inside where they met the heat of your walls. 

“Oh” You whimpered, voicy pitching and your head fell back, suddenly too heavy with pleasure to hold up again longer and hit the wall behind you with a thunk, your ears washed with the sound of your heartbeat and your cunt clenched, arms tightening around Dylan’s neck. 

A soft mewl passed your lips and your head pressed back against the stones as your body tried to squirm out of the pleasure that was aching through you, from your knees to your stomach to the arches of your feet. You felt your cheeks flushed hot, your body on fire as you stumbled over your breaths. 

“There we go” Dylan breathed, his breath against your ear as his cheek pressed to yours, hand moved to your neck, up to the base of your skull, found it’s way between your head and the wall and cradled it in his hold. 

“Take it so well, don’t you” His voice was low, hot and you were melting in his arms. His two fingers crooked steadily in their position inside you, pressed deep and firm and hot, over and over again pulsing pleasure heavy and thick through your veins like honey. 

“More ” You mumbled and rocked your hips down, taking, and tightened your arm around Dylan’s neck as your body weakened under his touch, hazily chasing the pleasure. 

“More” you moaned again, arm tugged at Dylans neck, thigh squeezed at his side when he didn’t change the steady pace of his fingers.  

“Be. nice.” Dylan answered. 

“Trouble being good even when I’ve got two fingers in your cunt hm? Know you can be good sweetheart, don’t you wanna be good for me? I can give you what you need if you’re a good girl” he pulled back to look at you as he spoke, your eyes half lidded as you struggled to watch him, thick pleasure drawing you down, a heavy weight pitching you on the width of Dylan’s fingers, anchored to where he touched you. 

“Oh you do wanna be a good girl, don’t you, felt the way you got so nice and tight around my fingers when I said that hmm, you like that don’t you sweetheart” he whispered and your body trembled, nipples hardened tight and you tipped your head further back, into the weight of Dylan’s palm, the grip of his long fingers in your hair. 

He smirked before his mouth found your tits again, lips teeth and tongue praised the skin, wet kisses and pulling bites, a small bruise that bloomed half over your nipple before he finally released you from the bite of his teeth. 

You whined, fingers scrambled as they buried into Dylan’s hair, gripped sharply and twisted, held him to your chest. Your thigh trembled as you fought to hitch it higher over Dylan’s hip, opening yourself to him further, giving him all of you, whatever he wanted. 

Dylan hummed against your tits, small greedy kisses as his fingers drew out briefly only to press back in, now three fingers wide, drew out again as he started a steady rhythm fucking you on his hand. 

Your breath punched out in a broken whine, and your head dropped back like a puppet who’s strings had been cut, the full weight of your head now cradled in Dylan’s hand. He released your tits from his lips with a slick sound, pressed your bodies tightly together and gazed at you as his fingers fucked you. 

“I know, I know” Dylan’s voice soothed and lips were soon on yours, his grip tilted your head up so he could meet your mouth and you kissed him with the need his fingers were fucking into you. 

Starlight kissed and burned at your pulse points, your wrists, arms, neck, the tender skin where your thigh met the centre of you, hot licks of joy eating you as he drove his fingers into you over and over and over. 

Dylan was knuckle deep and the thrusting of his fingers paused, went back the filthy curl of fingers, three wide in the deepest part of you he could reach. Your breath quivered, hands slipped from his hair, around his neck and down his shoulders, pulling at him, gripping whatever you could take, touching as you let your body dissolve into heat and pure pleasure, a livewire tangled in his man. 

Dylan swayed forward suddenly as a distant murmur of voices and laughter from above you washed out into the night air. He pressed as close as possible, eyes sharp and body still as he listened, the gentle fucks of his fingers slower now, but the only part of his attention you still held. His eyes stayed stuck on the small lip of balcony you could see to the left of you, you were almost under it, mostly out of sight from where it looked out but not entirely. 

You watched his jaw jump thickly and you leant in to kiss the flexing muscle, nuzzle at his flushed red cheeks. With his face turned the light of the moon better illuminated his swollen lips, the blotching heat of his face, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, he looked ruined, ruining you. 

You whimpered and kissed at his jaw again, hands pulled at him at a silent request to come back to you. 

“Shh” Dylan cooed and his hand guided your head into the curve of his neck, fingers somehow found themselves even deeper inside you, the steady curls of his fingers deep and persistent in a way that made your legs shake as you let him tuck you into his frame. 

One of your hands slipped to the front of his shirt, greedily tugged at his bow tie and top button until you could release them and found the warm skin with your mouth, nuzzled at it as Dylan fucked you deep and achingly slow on his fingertips. 

“Shh, shh” He cooed again as a loud laugh from above rung out, and he shifted the pair of you closer to the wall and oh god. Your legs trembled as you had to fight to stay on your feet, the hand around Dylan’s neck gripped to try hold you up, a soft cry passed you lips, a half sounding sob as you nodded desperately into the heat of his throat. 

“There, there there there” You rambled breathlessly as the hand at Dylan’s chest fell to the hand that was filling you, wrapped a death grip around his wrist. The shift of your bodies had sent Dylan’s fingers just the right amount to the left to be pressed to the pad of pleasure deep inside you, where you ached most to feel full. 

Dylan drew back just enough to press your forehead to yours, panting chests pressed together and he let out a soft sound and kissed at your lips in hungry soft pecks, drags of lips wet and warm. “There baby? Right where you need it huh?” Dylan whispered, and you could barely nod before his fingers began to curl in quick, sure fucks, deep lingering presses of fingertips to that one spot that set your whole body alight. Your chest was caving in with every deep breath while your stomach bloomed with crashing waves of pleasure, so heavy and so good you could feel it even behind your eyelids, pleasure like a light pushing up out of you 

“Dylan, yes. Please I-” Your breath hiccupped and you felt you cunt tighten around him, a hungry pull of your body somehow still demanding more. 

“Shhh baby gotta be quiet or they’ll hear us” Dylan tucked your face back into his neck as his fingers soaked in the heat of you, the wet sucking sound of your tightness around him quiet between your bodies. 

You nodded desperately, willing to comply as so long as he never stopped that perfect curl og his fingers. Your body no longer felt like your own, a hot point wound tight, an ocean during a storm, something that you were hopeless to hold yourself up against. 

Your legs trembled with the effort to keep yourself standing and the thought of anything but the fit of dylan’s fingers inside you whited out with every thick pulse of pleasure the curl of his digits pushed through you. 

The voices must have faded out (something your pleasure drenched mind couldn’t even think to be aware of) signaling that you were alone once more because between breaths Dylan pulled you back from his neck, kissed you hungrily before he began to speak low and desperate between your mouths. 

“Good fucking girl, you can be so good can’t you, when you’re getting what you need hm?” his voice was rasping, breathless and his hand gripped tighter in your hair, a fist that made your scalp burn. 

“So good drenching my fingers, wetting my palm with this perfect little cunt” his words made you whine, your fingers dug into the hold you had on his wrist, whole body trembling with it now. 

“Imagine how pretty it will be when its my cock huh? How gorgeous you’ll be taking it,  all wet and hot around me, fuck baby, I know how bad you need that, I need it too, beautiful I need to feel you too- fuck” Dylan rambled, voice low and hugry and you nodded, nodded and fought to try keep your eyes open and watching him as he reduced you to the pleasure hot and throbbing from between your legs. 

“Getting close aren’t you? I can feel it, not gonna stop till I feel you come for me, Want it, want you to come on my fingers, give me that baby can’t you? Show me how good it feels” Dylan encouraged and you nodded feverishly, tilted your head in a blind mission for his mouth, which he was quick to meet you in. 

“Close- close but I” Your breath hitched and tears threatened the edges of your eyes, the pleasure wa so hot and consuming and your orgasm was right there, you could feel it just under each breath but something kept you dangling just above it. 

“Tell me what you need, tell me how I give you this sweetheart, fuck you’re so- wet.” His voice broke over the last word, rasping between messy kisses. 

“Come on baby tell me” He whispered, slowed his fingers to long, deep winding rubs, forced your eyes open with the ebbing of your pleasure. 

“Tell me” he grunted out again, voice a command, not a question. 

“More- I need, I don’t know, I” your breath caught as your mind tried to find what your body wanted, what it needed in the sea of pleasure consuming you to finally pull you under, rolll and toss your body with its peak. 

“Closer- harder, just, more, I don’t know” You asked, and he nodded, pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and hummed. 

“Please” you asked, a small roll of your hips down, chasing. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl telling me, I’ve got you” Dylan breathed and began the curl of his fingers again, but now slow and steady, a slight rock to his fingers as he thrust them just so with each curl. 

“Touch your clit for me baby, do yourself how you like it best, be good and touch, want you to show me” Your fingers found your wetness as Dylan spoke, eager to comply, eager to come. 

Your pointer and middle finger found the most sensitive part of you, slipped in the wetness of your pussy to work small tight coils against the red cherry of your clit. Your eyes fell shut with the pleasure that rushed you, toes curled with it and your breath hitched as you drew in fast shaking breaths. 

“There we go, there we go” Dylan praised, his lips kissed hungrily at your cheeks, jaw, neck, down to your chest. 

“So beautiful, keep going, you’re doing so well, making yourself feel so good and I can feel it, feel you on my fingers, driving me crazy. Fuck” Dylan’s voice was a haze around you, your nipples hardened and you clenched tighter around Dylan. 

Your body ached, trembled ad you tried to stay upright, you felt lost in the pleasure, even with the wall pressed into your back, the way Dylan’s chest was against yours, you wanted- you needed him closer still, you wanted to feel him all over you, you ached to be under him, wanted to feel him hold you down as he made your body fall apart. 

“Dylan” you didn’t know what you were asking, legs shook as you tried to get closer to him, your leg tightened around Dylan’s hip. 

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, don’t worry, keep going baby” He whispered, his hand moved from the back of your head, slid down and around to the front of your neck, where he could no doubt feel the hummingbird flutter of your pulse on the side of your throat in the cup of his palm. 

His fingers lay gently against the side of your neck, goosebumps prickling down your arms, your heart hammered so hard it felt like a drum beat shattering through you with each pulse. His hand spread until his thumb found the hollow of your throat, a light touch that he dragged up before he curled his thumb across to tuck under the line of your jaw. 

Your eyes fell shut and you tilted your head back, offered more of your neck to Dylan as your mind fogged with want, a soft moan passed your lips, a shiver rocked you in the simple way he was holding you, the way you felt the curve of his hand with each breath you pulled in. 

“Oh baby” Dylan breathed and smiled, like you’d confessed something he’d been waiting to hear. 

“Gotta make me take it from you huh? Can’t just give it to me I gotta earn it from you huh?” He breathed and you were weak to do anything but listen, your fingers working your clit greedily, messy wet slips of your fingers that had you tightening around Dylan. 

“You pinch my wrist if its too much hm? If you wanna stop ok?” Dylan asked and you nodded, willing to take what Dylan wanted to give you, desperate to cum. 

“Hey, look at me” he spoke and you sighed, focused n chasing your orgasm, feeling it close in the way your pussy was gripping Dylan’s fingers, the way the pleasure was shimmering hotter behind your bellybutton, so close just out of your grip. 

His fingers paused suddenly and you wanted to cry, eyes pulled open in a desperate blink and you look at him hazily, brow crumpled in a frown at the loss of pleasure. 

“I know, I know, listen okay and then I promise I wont stop, I’ll keep going, make you soak my fingers and come so hard you only know my name okay?” 

You nodded, desperately and Dylan repeated his earlier instructions. “Pinch my wrist if you want to stop okay?” he asked and you shivered at the promise of it, of what was to come. 

You nodded, understanding now what he was asking, hand on your throat, eyes black with desire as he looked at you. 

“Yes, ok, pinch your wrist, I’m being good I’m listening, now Dylan, please” You begged, felt your voice waver with your desperation. 

“Please I want to come” You whispered, face flushed and lashes heavy as you gazed at Dylan, the hand not working your clit came up to Dylan’s cheek, leant into him and kissed him soft and slow, breathing into his mouth between wet kisses, tongue tasting his. 

“Please” you muttered again and Dylan nodded, kissing you so deeply your head tilted back with the depth of it. You cried out against his lips when his fingers finally went back to fucking you, quick deep thrusts of his three fingers, the wet sound of your body as his skin met yours over and over. 

“Yes, yes its so good, so good” You gasped out, began to tremble as your increased the pace of your own fingers, tight circles over your swollen clit, so wet your dripped from your own fingers. 

Dylan hummed and took your mouth in a hot kiss as his hand gently squeezed around your throat as you drew in your next breath, the fingers on either side of your throat pressed in. 

Your cunt pulsed at the feeling, he wasn’t imiting your breath but making each inhale ache in the best way. 

“Oh my god” Dylan whispered into your mouth and his fingers pressed knuckle deep, once more curved to find that perfect spot inside of you, relentlessly began drilling it, over and over in quick curls of his strong fingers. 

You whined into Dylan’s mouth, your leg that was wrapped around his waist kicked out slightly before tensing beck to his body and the muscles in your calf jumped as your toes curcles. Your pulse thurmmed so loud in your head the sound of anything else was distant, between a thick wall of the pleasue consuming you. 

His hand tightened further on your neck, a deeper press of his fingers and the lightest pressure of the flesh between his pointer finger and thumb against your throat. His fingers inside you were unforgiving as they curled hard into you over and over, slamming of his fingertips into the spor that sent stars of fire up shooting through your body. Your cheesk felt so hot like your dosy could catch on fire. 

“Yes, there, there” You whined

You felt your body squeeze around Dylan’s fingers, a sharp, loud half sobbed crossed your lips, so deep it made your chest stutter with it and his hand squeezed your throat again, a firm hold before his lips pressed to your ear. 

“Please, please Dylan, Please, please” you gasped out, babbling your begging, unabel to help it. “I know, I know, but i’ve got you, I’ve got you, give me it sweetheart, wet my hand and take away your ache, my good girl” he muttered and your fingers pressed down on your clit as his fingers punched in and your breath caught in the cradle of his hand and you slipped back into the rocketing bliss of your orgasm. 

Your thighs pushed in toward themsleves as your dropped your head back, mouth open with a silent scream, pleasure built up and and up and up and pushed tears to your lashses before it let you fall, a rush as the storm shook you apart, your whole body trembled as Dylan’s fingers worked you through the waves of pleasure. 

His voice was sweet and honey warm by your ear as he held you through it “Beautiful girl, my good girl, feel so good, so good for me baby” whispered to you in variations over and over. 

It felt like hours later when the rapture of pleasure slowly began to ebb and you could catch hiccuping breaths without being rockde over another wave of your orgasm. Your hand slipped weakly down to find Dylan’s and pushed gently at his wrist as your thighs pushed in toward each other once more. 

“Too much, too much” you whimpered, felt Dylan’s fingers slow to a stop, let them linger inside you a few moments longer as his mouth found your throat, where his hand had been moments earlier. He kissed softly at the skin, down toward your breasts that he covered in kisses. He slipped his fingers from you as he kissed back up your throat and found your lips.  

He kissed you, just soft sucking lips as his hand rest over your tired pussy, thumb softly stroked the skin. 

Your body trembled in his arms as you reached for him, felt drunk, limbs heavy as your hands found his belt. You kissed him like that for a few moments, sweet and slow until your fingers co operated and you could ease the leather through the lip and pin. 

The soft clink of the belt unfastening made you shiver and you thumbed open the button and zip, the heavy weight of dylan through his boxers pressing thick and hot through the fabric. You could see the wetness where his hard cock had been straining against his boxers as you pulled away to look at him. 

“You don’t-” You shook your head quickly as his protest, leant your head against his shoulder and looked down as you eased him from his boxers. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, the width of his hard cock, the size of him in your palm, the darkness of the thick head. He was perfect. 

You swallowed a whine and sucked your bottom lip into your mouth as you reached for his hand that was still pressed to you, took him by the wrist and curled his own hand around the base of his cock, fingers tangled together as your dragged his fist up over him in a slow stroke. 

The wetness of your pussy that had soaked his hand now slicked his cock and you pushed his hand away now tha he was nice and wet like you wanted and you too him into your hand. 

“Fuck. Oh god you can’t just. Sweetheart-” His voice shook and his hand came to your waist, gripping you the other gently caressing your chest in a feather light touch. 

“I- this won’t take long, baby your pussy has me so hard, the way you took my fingers, so fucking tight when you came, almost pushed them out, can’t imagine you around my cock- going to make a fucking mess on it-” 

Dylan groaned and you nodded, began to kiss and suck at his throat, nuzzles of your nose against warm skin as your hand worked him him in tight long twists, felt each throb of him against your skin. 

You’d have to have him in your mouth too tonight you thought longingly, sucked at your lip as you watch his cock head wet with precum. 

“You’re so big” you whispered, too tired to filter the thoughts in your orgasm drunk mind. Your hand joined the other his cock, thumb gently stroking the thick head of him, over the top once and then at the underside in slow circles as your other hand continued worked his length. 

“I’ll be so tight around it- god I can’t wait to feel you, properly- feel you take it, feel all of this hard and thick inside me, Dyl” You sighed

His hand cupped your breast thumb brushed your nipple and gasped as he came, head tilted back as he fucked his hips up into your fist, hot and wet spilling over your fingers, the head of his cock pulsing and thick as it throbbed in your touch. 

You couldn’t help yourself then really, the sight of his cock messy and all for you- you sunk to your knees and kissed at the head head of his cock, wet open mouthed and tasting his cum. You dragged your parted lips over him, kissed the hot flesh lazily, content with tasting him, feeling him like this. 

“Fuck” Dylans voice punched out and his hand cupped the side of your face, body curled over as he watched with blown wide eyes, gaze reverent as he watched you. You licked him off your fingers between cleaning him off with the wet of your tongue, eyes closed as you enjoyed the taste of him.  

You tilted your head back to look at him, placed the head of his cock on your parted lips and smirked, tongue dragged out to lick a flat wet stripe that sent his full body into a shudder. 

“Fuck, okay, okay” he eased you off his cock and quickly tucked himself back into his pants, pulled you up into his arms, wrapped them around you waist and bundled you to his chest, found your mouth and kissed you, open mouthed and slow. 

His hand pulled beautifully a folded, expensive looking piece of fabric from his front pocket, gently wiped between your open legs, your thighs before he wiped his own fingers, folded the fabric into a neat square and tucked it into an internal hidden pocked in his suit jacket. His hands fastened his pants and redid the belt quickly. 

You shivered as you watched him, felt his hands eased your straps back up over your shoulders, gently touching over your chest to make sure you were covered tucked back, pulled your dress away to tug your panties back into proper place before he let skirt of your dress fall down around your legs once more. 

Your heart squeezed in the silence and before you could stutter out a manifestation of the worry that had started to cloud your mind, Dylan was pulling off his suit jacket and helping you into it. 

“You’re shivering” he whispered, and his hands pressed to the low of your back, pressed your bodies close. 

“Mmm” you agreed, not willing to confess the trembling was more so from him than the night air around you. 

“I can feel you thinking” he whispered and his lips found your cheek, a soft kiss before he let his cheek brush yours. 

“Don’t need to think, baby, not when it feels like this, okay? Let me give you what I promised okay? If you’ll let me” Dylan asked, his hand skimmed slowly up the length of your spine. 

“Let yourself have this, tonight yeah? Let us” Dylan continued. 

You nodded, not that you needed much convincnig, the promise the orgasm that still had your body feeling like it was held up in the air, had the muscles in the low of your stomach aching, far too good to walk away from. You needed and Dylan wanted and god the thought of the loss of his touch right now made you ache. 

It was one night, would just be one night, only for the two of you to know. Thats all it ever needed to be. 

You smiled and tugged Dylan’s jacket around you. 

“Take me home O’brien, while you’re lucky enough to have the chance to” you retorted, and turned out of Dylan’s arms, began to walk away, as dignified as one could with wet panties and trembling legs, trace amounts of risidual cum still on your fingers. 

His hand caught yours before you could go far, stopped you in your tracks and his other hand found the curve of your ass, voice a whisper by your ear. “Mm back to normal then sweetheart I see, going to have to fuck you into my mattress till you’re nice again huh? Make that pussy come over and over till I get to hear those sweet pleases and moans, till I get you doing everything I ask and you’re begging just for me-” You reached back and slapped hand over his mouth, the blush on your cheeks a furious rose tint. 

You felt his laugh and you rolled your eyes, bit sharp into your own lips and swallowed your biting remark. You pulled your hand away from his lips and kept walking, let Dylan ease his hand into your own, let the other hand slip up under the back of his tuxedo jacket that you wore, let him trace the low of your back with his thumb. 

“Not going to make it easy” you retorted, after a moment, actually unable to help yourself and you very much ignored the way you’d fallen apart so easily for him just moments earlier. 

“Oh I know, good girl” he said, voice smug. 

You nudged him with the sharp of your elbow into his side, fought to ignore the red of your cheeks and the throb between your legs.

[dreaminpetals]

💐 COMMISSION: fem s/o's wedding with andrew (sfw & nsfw) 💐

thank you so much for the commission! please consider checking out my emergency commissions here ! i hope you enjoy !

SFW ;;

♡ Andrew has always longed to marry somebody. Being a religious man, he's dreamed of filling a church with people who are dear to him as his beloved bride walks down the aisle.

♡ He's only glanced at weddings, an outsider looking in. The brides and grooms having the best nights of their lives made his heart feel fuzzy. Nobody would ever dare to wed him, but the idea was certainly a pleasant one. It helped him sleep. It comforted him when he needed it most. He wanted to look down at his hands and see a ring that reminded him someone out there loves him.

♡ He grew up with not even a penny to his name, so he knows having a luxurious wedding would be completely out of the picture for someone like him. Until he met you.

♡ You helped him get back on his feet and the two of you worked together to save up enough money for a wedding ceremony and reception, along with a honeymoon.

♡ Most honeymoons are spent lazing by the beach, but due to his body being constantly at war with sunlight, you decided to book a trip to a lovely cabin hidden away in the woods, a private place for just the two of you.

♡ He honestly thought you'd end up getting married in Red Church, surrounded by cobwebs and broken glass, but you insisted that you two would find a way to escape the manor and you'd have a proper wedding.

♡ It took months of promises and longing, but the seal keeping everyone trapped in the manor finally snapped and let everybody escape. You took Andrew's hand that day and promised him that a brighter future was upon you.

♡ Your wedding was surprisingly inexpensive. Despite your days in the manor being long gone, many of the survivors stayed in touch with you and were more than willing to help. You don't need to hire a whole team of wedding planners with the survivors by your side.

♡ Michiko and Violetta teamed up to sew you the most gorgeous dress you had ever laid eyes on.

♡ Emma designed your bouquet and enveloped the chapel in beautiful flowers.

♡ Norton prepared your rings using the finest gems he could find.

♡ Margaretha found the most wonderful songs to play and arranged dances.

♡ Vera styled your hair and Fiona did your makeup.

♡ Victor handled the invitations and did a fantastic job. So on and so forth.

♡ You and Andrew were on good terms with almost everyone, so they were all pumped to see how your wedding would play out. It was the greatest team effort they put into anything since the escape of the manor.

♡ You two had lots of practicing to do before the actual wedding. For one, Andrew didn't know table manners. You'd have to lovingly teach him gestures like how to cut his meat and how to do a toast before even daring to eat at the reception.

♡ Dancing together in your rooms was what Andrew enjoyed the most, though. Margie planned several dance routines, so you had triple the practicing to do when it came to dancing.

♡ Andrew was surprisingly agile during fast-paced dances, he loved to twirl you in the air like in a movie and dip you so low you thought you were going to crash into the ground. Each yelp only spurred him to play with you more, drinking up your reactions and getting all giddy because it's you.

♡ As for slow dancing with Mister Kreiss? You're so lucky to say you're familiar with it. He hums along to whatever music you play in the background, and puts so much love into every step or twirl that you feel like your heart might burst. It's agony waiting to dance with him in a suit and dress rather than your pajamas.

♡ You're blown away when you see the wedding venue for the first time. It's pure white with shades of red sprinkled in, the same colours Andrew has hated about himself now repurposed to be something he'd look at fondly for the rest of his life. It was beautiful. Like him.

♡ You noticed a chair with an unfamiliar name on it. When you asked Andrew who it belonged to, he answered that it was for his late mother. She would have loved to come, he said.

♡ He doesn't take the day of the wedding very well. What do you mean he can't see you until the ceremony?! He wants to greet you, kiss you, practice some extra dance moves to be extra sure... he's grumpy while the guys of the manor dress and hype him up.

♡ "Alright, let's do this! THREE CHEERS FOR OUR MAN ANDREW!" William would cheer so loudly the girls would hear it from the other side of the church and burst out into laughter.

♡ Andrew couldn't stop his hands from shaking, though. His lifelong dreams were finally being realized. The love of his life was going to marry him tonight. Willingly. He could barely believe it.

♡ As for you? You're brimming with excitement at the idea of walking down the aisle and shooting an arrow of love straight into Andrew's heart. The girls are envious of you as they powder your face and tighten the seams of your dress.

♡ "I remember when you first met that boy," Michiko would say to you as she styled your dress, beaming at you through the mirror. "You were too shy to even speak to one another... ah, young love."

♡ It took a million checks to make sure you were ready to present yourself to everybody. Your hair, makeup, dress, veil, bouquet... everything had to be absolutely perfect. It was a bit difficult having so many girls look after you, because Tracy's idea of perfect was a little bit different than Michiko's. There was a lot of playful arguing, but you knew they just wanted this day to be flawless for you.

♡ Once the petals were strewn down the halls and the bridesmaids and groomsmen made their appearances, you finally presented yourself.

♡ It took everything in Andrew to not fall to his knees when he saw you. You were angelic, your white dress cascading down your back with a stunning hairstyle he's never seen you in before. Your bouquet was made of all your favourite flowers, and he could see the perfect shade of lipstick beneath your vail. You captured Andrew's heart as he leaned onto Luca's shoulder for support.

♡ Andrew wasn't the only one who had his breath taken away. Practically everyone was gawking at you. It made Andrew feel a little... possessive, seeing everyone's eyes on you. He was going to be marrying you. Not José, not Norton, not Victor but him.

♡ All of his negative feelings disappeared the moment you were in arms reach. He extended an arm to take your hand as you gladly obliged. When he felt the fabric of your dress against his wrist, electricity shot through his body for a second time.

♡ Being able to see Andrew up close was a dream come true. His usual matted hair was thoroughly washed and brushed, it appeared as if José had lent him a hand. His usual flower was still present even as he wore a breathtaking suit. He smelled like cologne and looked so nervous but in love... you couldn't wait to finally kiss your groom.

♡ His hands trembled as he lifted your veil to reveal your features to him. You flashed him a grin and he felt his heart explode. He danced his fingers along your cheeks until they met your shoulders, which he gave an affectionate pat before turning to the priest.

♡ He had Helena help him with his vows. He wanted to blow you away, to use words you didn't think he knew. It took him days to memorize the words of love he was going to bestow upon you. You overheard him talking to himself a few times, but never guessed they were his vows.

♡ He also has some trouble with words of affection. Andrew much prefers to hold you or do favours for you.

♡ "When I first met you, I didn't think I was worthy of love. It's still hard to believe, but... I promise to return to you every affectionate gesture you give to me. I'll love you always and forever, as my angelic wife. I want to grow old with you. I vow to protect you, adore you, and care for you as long as I'm your husband. Our hearts will always be melded together and nothing will ever change that. Thank you for saving me. I love you."

♡ His vows brought some of the survivors to tears. Most of them only knew Andrew as that really quiet guy who hid behind his girlfriend a lot, so to see him spill his heart out for you made the crowd let out a sea of "awwwh"'s.

♡ His face turned scarlet and he almost wanted to run out of the building and hide once he finished speaking. He stumbled over and mispronounced a few words, but you could tell he put his whole heart into it and he meant every word he said.

♡ When he's finally able to kiss you, Andrew dips you low and assaults your entire face with kisses, treading past your lips. He doesn't care about smudging your makeup or embarrassing you, you're finally his wife and he just wants to feel your face after waiting all day to.

♡ The cheers once you become man and wife are astounding. When you tossed the bouquet it was caught by Eli and Gertrude.

♡ Demi helped to bake an enormous cake, one that's almost as tall as you. On top were little toppers meant to look like you and Andrew that you kept as mementos.

♡ The reception was definitely more of a party than the wedding was. Antonio and Margie played music for everyone to dance along to, and a karaoke session was held as well.

♡ Andrew was a little stressed out by how much noise there was, but you reminded him everyone there loved him and he melted. He's not used to all this positive attention.

♡ Your heart burst when he extended an arm and asked you to dance. You had been practicing for so long that when you finally attended the real event, it felt like a dream.

♡ For just a few minutes, nothing existed but Andrew's arms around you and the elegant music brought to you by a live band.

♡ Once all the food is eaten and gifts are exchanged, everyone bids you farewell. The girls cry when they hug you and the guys all pat Andrew on the back, wishing him good luck for... what couples do on their wedding night.

♡ When you two finally arrive home, Andrew is exhausted. He's never been to such a crowded event before, especially one where he's the main focus.

♡ He'd need to lay his head in your lap and relax as he plays with your dress. The fabric felt so pleasing under his fingers. He was so in love with every part of you. He needed to be as close to you as possible after being kept from you, and from being in public with you. He cherished alone time like this.

♡ Once he's rested up, you'd have to unpack all your gifts! Each survivor and hunter gifted you something for your domestic life with Andrew. Matching mugs, blankets, cutlery, paintings... you were drowning in presents.

♡ It took an hour, but you finally unwrapped and stored everything away.

♡ Which leads to...

NSFW ;;

♡ You and Andrew have had sex before. Maaany times. He views it as making up for lost time, it helps with his insecurities, and he enjoys making you feel good. Andrew will do everything in his power to make sure the lovemaking on your wedding night is nothing short of magical.

♡ When you're settled at home and can't think of any more chores to do, Andrew is more anxious than he's ever been. His face is red in a furious blush and he's barely able to muster a sentence as he stands stiffly, lustful eyes on you.

♡ He knows what couples are meant to do on their wedding nights, and he's so excited to make your wishes come true, but this poor boy has no idea how to initiate things. Whenever you make love, it's because he's visibly horny but too anxious to say anything so you take care of him.

♡ You approached your husband, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you stared up into his eyes. He didn't look at you or respond to your inquiry of whether he's okay or not. The growing tent in his pants spoke for itself.

♡ Your eyes widened when you felt his erection brush against your thigh. He could tell that you felt his arousal ー because he hoisted you up bridal style and pressed an openmouthed kiss to your lips. He was going to take you, and he was going to do it right.

♡ His sudden burst of confidence lead to him carrying you to your bedroom, and he gave you another kiss before gently placing you down on the bed.

♡ Andrew wouldn't know what to do next. He wants you eat you out for hours but... your dress is in the way. And he doesn't feel like taking it off just yet. No, he wants to take his sweet time with you. It's your wedding night, after all.

♡ His solution? Dry humping. He's always adored being able to rut against you like a wild animal, and getting to do so in your elegant wedding gear has him rearing to go. He doesn't want to soil your gown, no, he just wants to do something absolutely filthy in attire that's meant to be for a ceremony all about you.

♡ He would spread your legs as far as they possibly could go in your dress. When he hikes your dress up to your lower stomach and finally sees the sweet dessert laid out just for him, he's bucking his hips into the cold air for any sense of relief.

♡ He'd press his clothed cock against your panties and see stars. His lovely wife was so close to him but so far... he wasn't sure how long he could last like this.

♡ Andrew ground against you in a frenzy, arms snaking around your back as his face nestled itself in the crook of your neck, sucking sweet little kisses onto the flesh. He groaned when he rubbed against you just right, aiming to hit the same spots over and over again.

♡ He wouldn't let your needs go unnoticed. Andrew would angle himself to rub against your clit, and he'd pay special attention to your neck as he desperately got himself off with your body.

♡ The low groan that escaped from his lips as he came into his boxers went straight to between your legs. As he rode out his high, he'd push your panties aside and finish you off with his fingers before pulling away. Something about cumming before even getting his clothes off made him growl with need. And it made him desire you even more than he already did; skin to skin this time.

♡ Andrew asked you to undress him. You felt him shudder underneath you as you removed his suit and got him out of his pants. Stripping him reminded you that beneath all the cologne and hair gel, it was still your Andrew. His scarred body yearned for yours and you were more than happy to press a chaste kiss to his chest once he was undressed, your way of telling him you loved him.

♡ Your husband would ask you to sit in his lap, right on top of his aching boner just begging to be touched, and grind against it as he undid the several seams on your back.

♡ Andrew loves mirrors. He doesn't like seeing himself in them, but you? He could watch you be undressed through a mirror all day long. He thinks his hands look good when they're unbuttoning the fabric keeping him from you.

♡ You looked so radiant that Andrew would need to fuck you in front of a mirror just to truly see you.

♡ He would take his sweet time with you, for every untied string he would thrust up to grind against your clothed pussy and nibble your shoulders. Hearing you mewl in his lap causes his hands to fumble as he undresses you. He wondered just how someone could be so cute every time a moan is pulled from your throat.

♡ Andrew felt a little dejected once your dress was ready to come off. He would miss seeing you in it.

♡ ...Those feelings didn't last long, though. The moment he laid eyes on your bare body he was surging with confidence and hunger.

♡ "You look so ravishing... my... my wife..." he muttered, mostly to himself. It appeared he was still in disbelief that you were a wedded couple. Throughout the night he'd periodically mumble to himself that you were his wife, or he'd call you Mrs Kreiss. It had a lovely ring to it.

♡ Andrew wants ー no, needs ー to taste you after being away from you for so long. He would eat you out like a man starved.

♡ Positioning his face between your thighs, Andrew licked a sloppy stripe up your pussy, stopping right below your clit. Then he'd lick back down, avoiding the place where you needed him most. Your frustrated groans earned a soft chuckle from Andrew. He wanted to draw this out... he was in a playful mood.

♡ He massaged your thighs as he teased your folds, finally pulling away to ask you the question that would be the death of you. "Tell me what you want, my... wife..." his voice dropped in volume when he reached your title. He didn't care in that moment how cheesy it sounded, this was the ultimate night to be sappy with his angel.

♡ "Enough teasing, Andrew, please... eat me out," you'd weep through gritted teeth as your husband nibbled your thighs and nodded his head in response your pleas.

♡ Now that he's gotten you riled up for him (he wants to feel needed), he's not holding back. Andrew is the king of being unintentionally rough. He'd leave your core battered from how deep his licks are and how his chin smacks against your soft flesh.

♡ The moment Andrew feels you contract and twitch around him, he's slipping a wet finger into your walls to torture you further. He won't stop his ministrations even as you cum hard around him.

♡ He's extra passionate for your wedding night which translates into him not giving you a break. He doesn't want to pull away from your pussy, he wants to keep his head burrowed between your legs for as long as he possibly can. His tongue is going to commit every inch of you to memory tonight.

♡ If you really want to make this night worth your while, tackle Andrew once you feel overwhelmed and turn the tables on him.

♡ He loves when you take control and take him by surprise. One minute he was devouring you, and the next you've pushed his back against the headrest and you're lowering your head dangerously close to his cock.

♡ He wants you to feel good even as you suck him off, so Andrew will finger you while your lips are wrapped around his dick. He'll angle himself so the palm of his hand rubs against your sensitive nub. It drives him wild how sloppy your strokes and licks are when you're on the verge of cumming.

♡ He'd prefer to cum in your mouth. It's an intimate night, he doesn't want you to be completely covered in his seed just yet. He'd rather save that for the honeymoon.

♡ Chest heaving against your back, Andrew's next move is to pull you into his lap again. Remember how much he loves mirrors? He'll seat you right on his cock and direct your face with his hands to look right into the mirror across from your bed.

♡ "My wife," he'd murmur into your shoulder before snapping his hips into yours.

♡ Having Andrew's mouth so close to your ears means you'll get to hear every gasp and purr that he emits. And he makes a lot of quiet noises he tries to hide.

♡ Andrew made sure to cup a hand around your breasts and kiss your neck & lips as well. He wants to surround you. He wants all of your senses to be overtaken by him until you can't function.

♡ He would whisper praise into your ear, telling you how beautiful you look and how good you feel around him. It's not like him to be this bold and dominant but you're loving it.

♡ Andrew asked to cum inside you that night. When he finally reached his climax, he lifted you up so he could admire the string of cum connecting the husband to his wife. He was addicted to the sight and made sure to capture it in his memories for as long as he could.

♡ After several more rounds of rough licks and hard thrusts, Andrew would want something more soft and classic with you.

♡ Gently lowering you onto the mattress, Andrew would hover over you and press a tender kiss to your lips. With one long thrust, he'd fill you right up and stay like that, your hands connecting.

♡ His thrusts would be slow and sensual, making love to you rather than just fucking you. Don't be surprised if you feel hot tears drop onto your shoulders. This is one of the most sentimental moments of Andrew's whole life.

♡ Your tongues would dance as your lips locked in an intense kiss, you can tell how desperately he's trying to last and make this feel good for you.

♡ Andrew quickly repositioned himself to hit that spot inside of you. He's committed the location to memory, and wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't relentlessly batter it tonight.

♡ Your sudden gasps caused his thrusts to grow frantic, his hot breath fanning onto your neck as he plowed you into the mattress.

♡ You could feel his smirk on your skin when you began to pulse around him.

♡ "Good girl..." he would purr, rubbing circles on the back of your hand as you rode out your high. Hearing your cries of pure ecstasy pushed Andrew over the edge, and he emptied himself into you. You had never felt so stuffed before.

♡ Once you've decided you had enough, Andrew's entire demeanour changes. Before, he was determined to push your limits and hear your cries, while now he's insisting that you take a bath. He feels awful that he ruined your hair and makeup, plus you're littered with hickeys and your thighs are stained with seed... he doesn't know that you wouldn't have it any other way.

[reddit-aita]

AITA for not growing and dyeing my hair for my sister's wedding

(For context my hair is the same as the character Mary Margaret in the show Once Upon A Time. It's the same style and color. I have worn it this way since I was 18 years old)

Edited to add for more clarity: A wig isn't an option because my sister thinks that it would look fake, and because I wouldn't wear one as a condition of being invited. Also I was NOT asked to be in the wedding party, or to have any role in the wedding

My younger sister (I'm 24, she's 20) just got engaged and they already found a beach venue they liked and have chosen a date for next summer. My sister told me she wants the bridesmaids, maid of honor, our mother and me (as her family) to have the same hairstyle. The wedding party and my mother and sister are all naturally blonde already and they further dye their hair to be platinum. They have long hair already too.

Since my hair is short and black, I would have to forgo haircuts for the next 12 months so my hair would be long enough to get extensions sewn in and I would have to spend time and money to get it bleached from black to platinum too. I don't want to wreck my hair by bleaching it and by getting a head full of extensions, I don't think I would look good with platinum hair and I don't want to give up haircuts for a year and walk around with a mullet and other awkward styles. I told my sister I'm not changing my hair for her wedding.

My sister yelled at me and sent me an angry email. My mother sided with my sister and says I am not being supportive and putting my wants ahead of hers on my sister's day. My father just says to listen to my sister and mother. My mother actually called me an asshole and my sister says her pictures won't look right if I don't change my hair. My mother says we'll talk more next time I'm home (home is Florida, I'm living out of state for medical school right now) I could use an outside prospective as to whether or not I'm being unreasonable by refusing to change my hair at my sister's request.

[haircutfit]

Wedding Hair Styles Pictures

[ameliajessicapond]

amy :-)

favorite thing about them: her wonder and heart and ability to find something fun or lovely in the face of a very un-fun, un-lovely situation. it's not blind optimism it's looking at how shitty the world is and saying, "ok well i'm still gonna paint a goofy hairstyle on this killing machine."

least favorite thing about them: terrible taste in men no i will not elaborate and honestly i don't think i need to. also no i will not pick a real flaw because i don't feel like being sad today!!!

favorite line: Amazing though, don't you think? The Star Whale. All that pain and misery. And loneliness. And it just made it kind... But I've seen it before. Very old and very kind. And the very, very last. Sound a bit familiar?

brOTP: this is just gonna make me sad because she has no friends. fuck it, amy/her gay friend laura. no it's not my self-insert yes she DOES technically exist in universe, amy was going to be a bridesmaid at her wedding.

OTP: i don't want to talk about it.

nOTP: I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!!!!!

random headcanon: i have two very specific houses that are fully furnished and decorated and realised in my own personal headcanon. one is on the north wales coast or maybe the scottish west coast and is all greys and light blues and pebbled beach vibes and it's where amy runs away to process and Be Alone after the divorce goes through. yes the doctor shows up but it's her space and she does a lot of painting in this one room on the ground floor with an easel and a big window, and a lot of writing in the tiny box room that's directly opposite the top of the stairs and that has a dark brown desk and a nice green chair. THE OTHER house is in the south of france and is all pastels and terracotta and lavender beds out front and olive trees on the hill that goes up directly behind the house. and this is where amy and the doctor go together after they've finally sorted All That Shit out. like they've done some talking and healing and growing and reconciling and now they're going to be happy, damnit!!!! there's a big wooden dining table right next to the cluttered, light blue kitchen and they cook and laugh and open some wine and are okay!!!!!!!!!

i'm fine

unpopular opinion: season six of doctor who doesn't make sense, like irredeemably doesn't make sense, but it does begin to Just Barely Hang Together if amy and the doctor fucked at some point in s5 and she's fully lying to rory about it during the whole maybe-pregnancy arc. i WILL happily elaborate on this one.

song i associate with them: regina spektor samson UNFORTUNATELY

favorite picture of them

stunning. radiant. wonderful. my girl.