#so he can still wear his wedding ring on the original hand

[planetaryupscaled]

Disenchanted 3: Public Indecency

Male Reader x Karina

Tags: 3k, blackmail, cheating, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Ever since the day at the carnival I sensed a change in Karina. It was almost as if her last few emotional links to Jaewook had finally fractured and torn. The consequence to this was our relationship, if you could call it that became stronger.

Karina was less concerned about being married, her go to line anytime we were about to part take in anything remotely physical. It got to the point that she removed her wedding ring every time we indulged ourselves in satisfying our desires for one another. Jaewook on the other hand began falling deeper and deeper into a downward spiral, we met at least once a week to talk through his issues with Karina. Every time his solutions for fixing his marriage became more and more desperate.

“I don’t know how long we can go on like this.” Jaewook said, as we sat at a random bar off the side of the highway.

“It feels like our marriage has turned into a set of a show, like it’s all smiles and waves for the public, but in private, we go our separate ways.” Jaewook followed up.

I sat back, knocking down a shot of whisky, placing my hands on his shoulders.

“Give her more time, it must be tough for both of you.” I replied.

Jaewook shrugged his shoulders, a solitary tear falling down his cheeks.

“We haven’t had sex in weeks, her answers are cold, I dunno how I can fix this...what do I do?” He asked, eyes pleading for an answer.

Hearing this, jabbed sharply at my conscience as it was only a few hours ago that Karina and I had fucked in her car after she dropped the kids off to school. I still had her peach-colored lipstick marks smeared along the length of my cock after sucked me to completion, taking my pent up load down her married throat. It was becoming her thing, swallowing was once a taboo, a no no, but ever since we got together, having me finish in her mouth had always hit the right spot. It gave me a sense of pride, knowing she only swallowed me, only my load satiated her hunger. Jaewook and I polished off another few rounds before I called him a cab to take him home. The situation was getting untenable in the Lee household, only pushing Karina further into my arms, it was the perfect situation form me yet little did I know, things were going to get much more complicated.

—

“Hey, so I had a chat with corporate, and they have green us the green light to roll some sample products out at the local businesses.” Nayoung said, handing me the paperwork granting us more budget for the final push marketing our new lines.

“Hmmm that is a great news...I was thinking, maybe we could do something along the lines of nature, maybe draw upon the ecological and environmentally friendly products we have.” I replied.

“I will run it past the team and get back to you.” Nayoung said with a smile before we heard a knock at the door.

It was Karina, her hair wrapped neatly in a bun, wearing a striking pink number, accentuating her flawless toned legs.

“Morning team.” She said smiling.

“Just spoke to Yeonjun outside, good work on securing more funds for our new lines. I was thinking perhaps, marketing some at the local aquarium, drawing upon our environmental packaging and natural ingredients. They have a save the ocean exhibit on at the moment.” Karina said.

Nayoung looked at me with a smile.

“Looks like you have got your answer Boss.” Nayoung said.

Karina looked at me a little perplexed.

“I was just saying we should link our products up with our local businesses, hammering down on our eco-friendly appeal.” I said smiling.

“Great minds.” Replied Karina, laughing.

“Great...team day it is.” I said.

“Gather the troops, maybe we can all go down there, perhaps get some contacts, throw some ideas around.” I replied.

“You free Karina? You can be our secret weapon in getting them to potentially work with us.” I said.

“Are you planning in using me to further your professional career.” She replied smirking.

“You hit the nail right on the head.” I replied, grabbing my coat and walking towards her.

Nayoung was outside with Sohye and Yeonjun getting ready to go. I took the opportunity to peck Karina on the lips quickly, getting another hit of her womanly scent.

“Minho! People...” She startled.

“Might see...” I finished, kissing her again causing Karina to break out in a smile.

“Cmon, let’s go.” I said, opening the door and leading us out.

The local aquarium was only ten minutes away. The entire walk, Sohye and Nayoung updated Karina on various ideas they had on ways to spread our new lines on social media. I caught Yeonjun checking Karina out on a number of occasions, his eyes flickering towards her long slender legs as we reached our destination. I couldn’t blame him she was a very attractive woman. Nevertheless, I felt myself grow ever more protective over her, as I slowly began to realize, what we had was more than just the physical, I was actually falling for her completely.

My musings of how deep my relationship with Karina was, were quickly interrupted by the murmuring of the public around us. She had been recognized and approached by a number of fans asking for her autograph and picture. Karina dealt with it like a pro, smiling and stopping for photos while I flagged the manager. We spoke for a few moments regarding our impromptu visit and plans we had. The brief chat actually going better than I expected as he invited Karina and I to discuss our ideas in more detail. Flagging down Nayoung, I gave her the company card and told her to take the team out for lunch while Karina and I talked to the manager of the aquarium for a bit longer. He seemed, not surprisingly infatuated with Karina’s beauty, nodding and agreeing with everything she said. It took around fifteen minutes flat to organize a small event in the early part of next week to coincide with the finale of their save the Oceans exhibit.

“And that is why I brought you...” I said, whispering in Karina’s ear.

She smiled, slapping me on the arm as we finished up the meeting.

“Do you guys want me to show you around, we have special piece we are doing on Sea Turtles at the moment, not available for the public yet.” The manager asked hopefully.

Karina paused, looking at me.

“Sure.” I said, seeing Karina glare her eyes at me.

“Was this not meant to be a team day?” Karina said, whispering in my ear.

“Nayoung can look after them, besides, I told them to go around and get some lunch, we can all meet up after.” I replied, as we followed the manager around to the back of the complex.

The rumble of the public gradually dissipated to a low murmur as we made our way into a large open space, surrounded my glass screens, behind which was an endless volume of blue. Giant sea turtles floated gently by, as if waving to us as they circled upwards to the surface flanked by numerous colorful fish zipping effortlessly in and out of the artificial coral reefs.

“This is it!” The manager said proudly.

His eyes still glued to Karina as she stared at the beautiful creatures swimming in the deep.

“So when is this exhibit open?” Karina asked in wonder.

“About two weeks, you guys are the first to see it.” He said smiling.

I could see his eyes travel the length of her body the moment she turned around before his visual perversions were disrupted by a loud bang. It came from the main area down the hallway, with some load shouts. It sounded like there was a bit of a scuffle going down from the sounds of the screaming.

“Shit...what now?” The manager said, in frustration.

“Guys...have a look around and come back the way we came...my team will be in contact with you later this week to tidy up the details.” He said.

“It was nice to meet you...both of you.” He followed up, his face showing disappointment at having to leave the company of the once famous Idol.

We watched him leave before sighing in relief.

“He had such the hots for you Karina!” I said chuckling.

“I could feel his eyes on me every time I turned around...it felt- ughh a little creepy.” She said with a frown.

“Why...does it make you jealous when other guys check me out?” Karina asked closing the gap, gently smiling.

“A little...” I replied, kissing her lips.

“That is kinda cute.” She said kissing me back.

“I know right, it’s a problem the jealousy that is, it causes this really bad pent up tension you know.” I replied sarcastically.

“Oh...really.” She said raising her eyebrows.

“Don’t- don’t even say it mister.” Karina said, placing her fingers on my lips.

I looked at her suggestively, wrapping my hands around her waist as I eased her gently onto the glass of the aquarium.

“Minho...seriously...people...might...uhm...see...ughh...us.” She replied, her voice fading into light moans as my hands caressed her tight body.

“Let’s not pretend you don’t secretly like it...” I replied, kissing her down her body as my hands drifted up her dress.

“I do...ughh but- ohh god...that feels- good.” She replied, her pussy creaming in my palm.

“Just a quick...pump and dump.” I said with a smirk.

“A what...? who do you think you are talking to?” Karina said going bright red.

I kissed her full lips, biting down on her lower lip as I continued feeling her up under her dress.

“Shit...seriously- we...ughhh...might...unhh...get...caught...” Karina moaned.

My hand continuing to squeeze and massage her rapidly dampening pussy, causing her to adjust her stance to allow me better access to her burning sex.

“Maybe- ughh…maybe- a quick...pump.” She whispered breathlessly smacking my arm smirking, as she eased her legs open for me, the pleasure emanating from her slit causing a long groan to leave her lips.

Her purring was getting louder as I pierced her wet folds with my fingers, stroking her deep inside her womanly cavern. She ran her fingers through my hair, gripping my head tightly as I slung one of her legs over my shoulders, pushing her standing leg onto her tip toes. My tongue buried into the far reach depths of her married cunt as she flexed her walls around my face, creaming profusely over my mouth.

“Minho- quick…I need you…inside me...” Karina moaned impatiently, her need to be filled spilling out at the surface, rocking her head back and shutting her eyes.

I gave her folds one long lick, the drool from her pussy now forming thick strands on my lips as I hoovered up her sex for the final time.

“I thought...you were afraid of getting caught?” I said, raising my eyebrows as I slipped my drenched fingers from her glistening slit.

“Ughhh- fuck...I still…am, ohh…i can’t believe I’m letting you do this to me...” Karina replied, her eyes now filling with lust.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked, petting her throbbing clit with my lips.

“Don’t you dare!” Karina, replied gritting her teeth and pulling me up to my feet.

“You want it?” I asked, taking her slippery tongue into my mouth and sucking down hard.

I could feel the vibrations of Karina groaning into my mouth, spreading her legs for me as I hiked up her dress.

“I love it...” She replied, kissing me back and wrapping her left leg around my waist.

Her hands were searching down my torso, fumbling for my zipper as we kissed deeply, our tongues clashing, exchanging spit as she finally set me free. My cock springing out from my trousers, the top of my shaft rubbing tantalizingly along the bottom of her sex. I could feel the warmth of her slit through her now soaked underwear, a mixture of her sensual cream and my spit coating my length as I rubbed up against her.

“Put it in...” Karina whispered, rolling her head into my hands as I supported her upper back in my right arm.

It was a moment of raw passion as we locked eyes, her mouth agape as I thrust my hips forward, piercing her wet folds with my cock. There was no time to take her underwear off I just wanted to be in her, as deep and as hard as I could, fucking my length up to the hilt till I bottomed out inside her precious pussy. Karina was slick, her hands clawing at my back as we found our rhythm, each pump of my dick bringing her further off the ground as her standing leg struggled to reach the floor.

“Karina...you feel so fucking good...” I moaned into her hear.

“Ughhh- keep going...just...like- that.” She replied, eyes shut tight as I nailed her against the glass.

All you could hear each time I penetrated her married cunt were the slaps of our flesh and a deep thud of her rear slamming hard against the aquarium wall. The coolness of the glass rubbing on her back side as I continuously stuffed her with my meat, stretching her tight pussy with my girth as my tip smashed up on her cervix, deep within her womb.

Karina scratched at my back, her breath now ragged as she was losing control, I could feel the walls of her cunt gradually intensify its grip on my straining cock as I pierced her slick folds. The cream from her cunt now dripping down my thighs as I fucked her full of my cock in the dimly lit aquarium.

“Fuckk...deeper- fuck...me...deeper...” Karina whispered hurriedly in my ear.

She was close, her body was tensing as I cradled both arms around her upper back, protecting the back of her head from what was about to happen.

“You want it deep baby?” I asked, my eyes burning with desire.

She nodded, biting her lip as her orgasm began to build.

“Hold on...” I said, kissing her deeply one more time as the brunette braced her core.

Karina knew what was coming, opening her thighs wider for me to allow for my deeper strokes. Gripping the back of her head I mercilessly pumped my dick deep inside her cunt, assaulting her married pussy with my invading cock as I stuffed her wanting womb with my meat.

“ughh...anhh...fuckk...” Karina screamed, her wails reverberating off the glass as I pummeled her cunt for all I was worth.

“Karina...I can’t hold on much...much longer...” I said, my breath now haggard as I continued to pump her.

“Fuck...unghh- inside...cum…inside me.” Karina moaned, now finding it hard to catch her breath as I began to creampied her inside.

It was like breaking a dam, as a river of warm sticky spunk flowed from my tip, seeding Karina’s married pussy. Spurt after spurt coated her pink womb as her cunt walls sucked on my shaft like a hoover, her thighs shaking as we climaxed simultaneously. Holding me close in her grasp, she swayed her hips forward, fucking more of my spasming cock into her tight cavern, milking my meat to completion as I pumped her full of my pent up sperm. Our sweaty bodies slowed in tempo, my twitching dick still buried inside her as I lowered her legs back onto the floor, my warm sperm leaking from her slit and trickling down her toned thighs as we kissed deeply, my hips thrusting one last time to make sure she took all my load inside her womb.

In the thralls of passion, I thought I spotted another person’s reflection in the glass, turning around in a shock but to no avail.

“What...what’s the matter?” Karina asked breathlessly.

She continued to rock her hips, not letting me disengage as the she reveled in the feeling of my seed swimming around inside her.

“Nothing...thought I saw something that’s all.” I replied, still gathering my thoughts.

“I feel so full...you came a lot” she said smirking as I slipped my member from her depths.

A stream of my cum came pouring out, mixed with her womanly grool and cream. The milky substance leaving a trail of destruction down her legs as the rest splashed on the concrete floor.

“You are so bad...” She smiled seductively, hitting my arm.

She was right, we were a very risky pair indeed, seeking out dangerous situations to satisfy our darkest desires.

“Hey, are you guys still here?” The manager’s voice called out from behind us.

Startled, I quickly buttoned my cock back into my trousers, handing Karina a tissue to wipe up the mess I made down her inner legs. Slightly red faced I turned around waving to him as I approached.

“Lovely turtles.” I said, motioning to the deep blue.

Karina joining me by my side, like nothing happened smiled and thanked the man for showing us around. It seemed to work as he flushed red showing us back to the entrance. She still had a smudge of my spunk on her inner leg which she quickly dispatched before the manager noticed, taking it between her pink lips and swallowing it down discretely.

“Your friends have been waiting a while, they are just outside.” He said pointing to the door.

We shook hands once more and departed, meeting the team outside.

“Where were you guys?” Nayoung asked.

“Eh the manager was a bit of a fan, he insisted in showing us around the new exhibit, we figured it was the least we could do for allowing us to market some of our products here.” Karina replied smiling.

Nayoung smiled giving me a small post it.

“Hajoon our director was here, he left with Yeonjun and went back to the office, he says he wants to discuss something with you guys.” Nayoung said slightly concerned.

“Is everything ok?” She asked.

“I assume its to update him on our progress, but why did Yeonjun go?” I asked.

“Dunno Boss, they were talking about a proposal of some sort.” Nayoung said shrugging her shoulders.

Karina looked at me slightly confused as we made our way back to work. Back inside, Karina went ahead to Hajoon’s office while I fixed my sweaty appearance, washing my face with cold water to gather my thoughts. When I knocked on the director’s door and entered, Karina was already sitting down, her expression looked worried for some reason.

“Please, sit Minho.” Hajoon said, pointing at the chair next to Karina.

Yeonjun was sitting on the side his face slightly piqued at my entrance, taking a seat on the cool leather chair.

Hajoon sighed, pushing out a phone on the table.

“It has come to my attention, that a senior manager and an important member of the board have been...partaking in less than professional activities.” He said.

I gulped hard, sweat now forming on my brow as he continued to speak ushering Yeonjun over to us. Yeonjun air played the phone to the tv monitor on the wall, pressing play. It was hard to make out at first, but when the video came into focus there was no denying what we were watching. It was Karina and I, fucking in the aquarium, you could clearly see her face resting on my shoulder, moaning into my neck as I was thrusting my cock deep inside her.

Hajoon’s face was oddly stoic, like we were in a business deal as he wrapped his fingers.

“You both know what this means, if this was to get out.” He said.

“That sounds like a threat...” I replied, my anger building as I turned my attention to Yeonjun.

“Seriously, leverage?” I said to Yeonjun, who remained looking at the floor.

“Don’t blame him, he was in the right to come to me.” Hajoon said.

Karina was sitting quietly next to me, her hands pressed together as we both listened to how our fates would unravel.

“So, what now?” I asked curtly.

“I can make this go away, delete this video and we can all go about our lives.” Hajoon replied, his voice taking on a sinister tone.

“What’s the catch...?” I asked.

“The catch is… a night with me.” Karina replied, her face flushed in embarrassment.

“What? No, absolutely not.” I replied.

Hajoon smiled, silently surveying us both, he had us dead to rights as he wrote something on a piece of paper.

“As you both may know, I am stepping down soon, the rumors are true.” Hajoon said.

“Now, I like you, I really do Karina, you are hardworking and great for the company... you are also very beautiful.” He followed up.

“I was actually going to offer this in exchange for...your body, but Yeonjun with his evidence had made it too good not to accelerate.” Hajoon said calmly.

“When I retire, I will transfer my shares to you Karina, giving you 30% of the company...in return for a night with you.” He said.

“As part of this deal, Yeonjun will also want a night with you, in return, he will delete the video once we finish… our transaction.” Hajoon said coldly.

I nearly punched both of them right there, before Karina grasped my hand.

“Don’t...” She said exasperated.

“I’ll do it... I’ll do it as long as you are there with me.” She said, a tear tricking down her face.

There was a deft silence in the room, I had no idea how to react to that before Hajoon spoke up.

“See, an amicable solution.” Hajoon said.

“After this Yeonjun, I am firing your ass.” I said, my voice laced in venom.

He shrugged his shoulders smirking.

“It’s totally worth it.” He said, pointing at the television as Karina and I fucked on screen.

“See you both soon...” Hajoon said, showing us the door, a wry smile spread on his wrinkly old face...

[pressureplus]

I actually have this request in my head for a while now... but I'm not sure if you be up to do it so thank to let me know if you will do it or not. Fem! Reader who is happily married and live together with Sebastian (when he still human). Until, Sebastian was arrested and sentence to dead. Reader found no long after his dead that she was pregnant. Years later, Sebastian manage to escape Hadal Blacksite probably very injured in the process. He was soon spotted by the kid that look similar to his human self (the kid probably be now close to be a teenager now), as the kid call up their mother. Sebastian was shocked to see his wife come to view.

I'm looking 👀

Love this dramatic shit, I'm SO here for it!

I'm going to be referring to your son as S/N, so y'all can name your boy yourselves! (I'm real interested in the stuff you might choose, so if you wanna put them in the replies, I'd love to see your baby names!)

Smaller Hands

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Reader

Au: [Unnamed]

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy, an Absent Father, injury, and Imprisonment

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He had been running a very long time before he got to where he was now.

Escaping the Blacksite was only the beginning of his long, long journey home. He had wrestled himself from the depths of the deep ocean and fought his way all the way up to the light far, far above him.

Breaking through the surface of the water had provided him with a hope he never thought he'd see truly grow into something he could really hold. Sunlight and open air and a horizon that stretched endlessly in every direction... Sebastian hadn't known freedom in over 10 years, but there it was.

The way the natural light caught the glint of his wedding ring had him already tearing through the water with a grin, energy back in his tired body. It certainly wasn't his original ring, no, that one wouldn't fit on his new, much larger hand anymore, but the replacement that he got so he could wear a ring on his hand and not just as a pendant was enough of a visual reminder of his love, sending him treading the water the way this body was made to do. He had to get to his wife.

He had to see his Y/N again. That's always what his efforts were for.

It was days before he even reached a beach, and weeks of dragging himself through the shadows and the alleyways, keeping himself out of sight. He would squint at road maps and try to figure out how he was going to get himself home, not very well able to get on the public transport or drive himself there with a body like this. He had to be more than a little creative with how he was going to cross the countless miles between his lover and himself if he wanted to make it there at all. He'd spend his seemingly endless days hopping trains and swimming rivers just to close the distance faster, like it may wash away the last decade he's had to go without her.

Sebastian could only hope she waited for him, though those chances were next to none. She had been there the day he was 'executed', watching him get taken back to the chair that was supposed to put his story to its end. She has every right and reason to think he died that day, and he could never be angry or upset if she decided she still needed to be held the way his other hands used to hold her... Would these hands even fit her anymore? They'd outgrown his first ring... Would they be too big to hold hers anymore? The painful thought was a reoccurring one, and it plagued every dream he had in the moments he would manage to rest.

He's nearing his old cottage now, beaten and scarred from the long trip home, more than a little bit tired and definitely hungry. He's barely going to make it if he manages to get to the doorstep at all, but more thankful than ever he'd made his home with her outside of the city and out into the woods so he might have a moment to his thoughts. He could very well find her with another man, or he could find a completely new family, or even find nothing but flowers and trees- The life that he made with her could be all but ashes on a breeze that swept this place years ago. She could be a memory and this could all be for nothing just as easily as anything else. He wouldn't even have a right to be angry... He wouldn't even feel a right to cry if she's decided to move on.

"SNAKE MAN! SNAKE MAN!!!"

He's shaken from his pondering by an unfamiliar voice, a starry eyed child fumbling out of the bushes like a little animal.

He nearly panics and flees before the brave, feral little boy reaches out for his hand and looks up at him like something right out of a story book- Which, he supposed may be fair given the way that he looks now.

"Are you a forest monster!? Do you grant wishes and eat people and stuff?!" It's clear the boy doesn't know fear, young and small still, with new eyes... But familiar ones.

Sebastian's heart drops into his stomach when he begins to recognize the thick, dark hair and deep brown eyes. This boy is the spitting image of the way he looked when he was around 10 or 11... It's like he's been pulled right from Sebastian's old childhood photos.

Too dumbfounded to speak, Sebastian stands there, every muscle in his body tense while his eyes flick around the boy's face trying to figure out how this could be.

"S/N! What are you doing talking to strangers, you were supposed to be at least playing in the yard and not the woods before the sun started setting." Y/N rounds the trees with a stubborn look on her face and immediately freezes when her gaze meets Sebastian's.

The air is knocked out of the both of them, leaving them only able to stare, and he notes the way she's remained nearly the same as the day that he was forced to leave her behind. Like a flower that never wilts, she stands as beautiful and as amazing as she was when he had first met her. Frozen with an expression he can't place, she makes no motion to do anything at all. The larger man acts first at the realization she must be frightened of him, going to put his two unheld hands up and open his mouth to explain himself-

"You said not to talk to strangers, this is CLEARLY a forest monster." Little S/N beats both of them to the punch and confirms to Sebastian all at once that his attitude is as strong in his blood as that unruly dark hair is.

"Heed your mother, would you? I could very well eat you." Sebastian ushers the child forward with a playful threat, the boy in reference pouting and looking back up at him.

"Come on, I'm only out a little bit late! It's not dark yet! Monsters only eat people in the dark." The boy argues, unfamiliar with the idea of real danger, it seems, but certain of himself the way only children really can be.

"Sebastian I can't believe it... Is it you? Am I losing my mind?" Putting the scolding and corrections on her son's statements off for a better time, Y/N looks up at the mutated form of her lover, hoping she might be right. When Y/N speaks, it's soft and uncertain, a hand going to rest on her child's shoulder so as not to lose him while she's distracted.

"You recognize me?" His heart practically jumps into his throat and he struggles to cope with how quickly she's guessed it was him.

"If not for the way one soul knows another, then for your voice and... Our ring." Unafraid just as well, she walks right up to the towering creature and brings her hand up to the necklace it's strung onto around his neck.

"Am I too late?" Sebastian asks, still scared.

"You're late, but never too much. You had better come home now though." She gets firm near the end and he laughs, melting.

"Awe that's no fair! I'm in trouble for being a few minutes late and he gets to be gone forever!" The boy whines and Y/N seems to laugh when she ruffles his hair.

"You can be out of trouble because it's a special day. Now, let's go home and get you to bed." Y/N's eyes stray back up to her husband, the fondness that was there in those beautiful eyes he fell in love with was something that had grown blurry and hard to recall until now. The way her gaze rested on him so softly brought him back like he'd never left in the first place.

"I think I have some things to talk about with your monster, here." She smiles at him and goes to slide her hand into his, the cold feeling against his palm of her own ring -the matching one to his from the promise that they'd made at that altar a long time ago- made him feel warm again, and made him feel alive.

"Yes, I've got a lot of things I've been waiting to tell her for these years we've spent apart."

[kookslastbutton]

When I Say Forever ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: Today’s your wedding day and the slightly shy yet handsome, doe-eyed stranger who chased after you when you dropped your wallet on the street three years ago just happens to be the man standing before you today.

Original request: can you please write something about oc's and Jungkook's wedding? Your readers just need to witness it. We would highly appreciate it. Thank you!

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre/AU: fluff, smut, wedding au

word count: 4,696

warnings: a cute wedding where jungkook gets emotional and is very eager to be married, they get a little scolded during the ceremony ahaha, jk is romantic and prepares something very special for his lovely bride, mentions of absence of parents on oc's side (nothing gets too deep but I chose to go this route due to the very real factor that parents aren't always around), and finally sexual content bc come on it their wedding night 🥺

sexual warnings: soft dom!jk, sub!reader, swearing, explicit s*x, jk asks for consent bc yeah i don't even need to justify it, f*ngering, oral (both m. and f., multiple orgasms, dry humping, t*tty suck, heavy making out, overstimulation, possessive!kook, m*ssionary, c*wgirl, oc claws at his back which jk seems to have a kink for, a little bit of steamy rivalry at the end (just a hint), our kook is attentive even though it gets kinda rough

now playing: My You by jjk

a/n: my you has been one of my on repeat songs and im not sorry. Also, thank you for the request, i hope this is alright! Anyway pls enjoy! ❤

Dozens of cherry blossom trees are sky-high in the air, covering you as you walk down the aisle in the grass. Some of the blush pink and white blossoms shake from branches every few steps to shower over you in a cascading effect. The temperature is also perfect, a steady 68 degrees.

This is why you and Jungkook chose to marry in the spring–it was beautiful.

You look to your left, then to your right. Rows of seats filled with family, friends, and co-workers stare at you in awe. The only two people missing, however, are your parents.

With the passing of your father years ago and your mother's absence in your life since then, your half of the guest list isn’t extensive by any means. It's for those reasons that you both agreed a small wedding would be ideal.

Still, even with the minimized guest list, you find it difficult to hold eye contact with any of them. It's not because you're nervous exactly–you simply don’t believe your reality is real.

Was this another one of your silly dreams?

Are you going to wake up just as you reach the front?

You keep your eyes straight ahead and towards the man who's waiting for you with tightly clasped hands. He makes all your worries melt away in that instant.

No, you remind yourself. This isn't a dream.

The veil you’re wearing drags on the ground behind you and flows over the small train of your delicate, white gown. You chose a form-fitting sheath dress that’s made from the softest satin fabric. Its clean, sharp lines allow the semi-deep-v neckline to appear more elegant than revealing.

The closer you get the more Jungkook’s cheeks wet with his tears. He knew he was going to cry today. But he was hoping it’d happen towards the end so he could see you walking down the aisle to him without his vision blurring.

“Hi,” he whispers to you once you’re fully in front of him. He wipes his face with his thumbs as subtly as he can.

You bow to each other in greeting and, with the request to join hands from your officiant, you hand your bouquet of fresh-cut flowers to your maid of honor and place your hands in his gentler ones.

“Hi,” you reply, equally quiet and with a small smile.

Jungkook’s dark, raven hair parts in the middle with a few strands tastefully out of place. He’s wearing a black, pin-stripped suit with a matching vest and plain black tie. The white dress shirt underneath is buttoned all the way up to the top too and he’s kept all his piercings in, including his lip ring. He’s unbelievably handsome–and he’s yours.

When your officiant begins making the welcome speech, the guests settle down in their seats all at once. Yet you and Jungkook keep whispering to each other as softly as you can.

“You look amazing.” His thumbs rub soothing circles over the top of your knuckles.

“So do you.” Your gaze holds his reddened ones. The fact that he’s still on the verge of tears causes you to form watery eyes as well. But you blink them back. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I know. I feel the same way.” He pauses and grins at you. “Did you see who came with whom?” He gives a side-eye, gesturing at Jimin, one of his best men.

“I saw.” You and Jungkook start giggling at once because the person who Jimin brought as his plus one is perhaps the most annoying person in the world to him–your co-worker who’s had an insane crush on him for the last year. They insisted that Jimin be a “gentleman” and show them a good time while at your wedding.

“Do you think they’ll…you know,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively to finish the sentence.

Jungkook shakes his head lightly. “I don’t know, maybe. I can’t really bother to think about who’ll sleep with who when you’re gonna be the one under me tonight.”

Though he says it with the most sincere tone, more endearing than flirty, you swallow hard. It’s not your first time with Jungkook but you’re unsure what to expect tonight. You’ll be his wife after this.

“Why do you get to top?” you mouth.

Jungkook gives a half-smirk.“Why do you pretend to hate it?”

You open your mouth to form a response but the harsh clearing of a throat behind Jungkook orders you to stop.

“Everyone-ahem-can hear you,” Taehyung coughs. “Stop it for god sake.”

“Yes, if the bride and groom could please save the after-wedding affairs for later, we can move forward with the ceremony. Thankfully I don't see many children in the crowd today,” the officiant adds as humorously as she can and the crowd chuckles.

Oh god. You bite down on your tongue to keep from embarrassing the two of you further.

Once your officiant is able to finish her welcome speech she turns her attention to you. "__ do you want to marry Jungkook, to be your husband, to love and to cherish all the days of your life, today, tomorrow, and always? 

"I do. Yes."

She looks at Jungkook afterward. "Jungkook do you want to marry __, to be your wife, to love and to cherish all the days of your life, today, tomorrow, and always? 

He stares at you, wordless for a moment as every memory between the two of you hits him like a tidal wave. His hand starts shaking in yours, and tears start spilling from his eyes again.

"You okay?" You whisper and this time it's your turn to rub soothing circles on his hands, calming him down.

"Yeah," he sniffs. "I just never imagined myself to be standing here today. I love you so much."

Your officiant decides it's best to wait for the right time to speak but Jungkook smiles at her softly. "That means yes by the way," he jokes and the guests laugh in unison.

She turns to the ring bearer, aka Namjoon's eight-year-old son who stands on Jungkook's left by his father. "May we have the rings please?"

The boy walks over to her, hands over the small gold bands, then returns to his previous position.

"The couple will now exchange rings as a symbol of their love and devotion. I understand they have prepared their own vows thus binding promises to love, honor, and cherish one another. __, please place this ring on Jungkook’s finger and when you're ready you may begin."

You take the ring and begin slipping it on Jungkook's finger. "They say when you marry someone you become one. You consider each other in every decision, make compromises for the other, and be the strength when the other cannot. We've been together for three years now Jungkook, doing those exact things and I couldn't fathom stopping now. I love you and I promise I'll always be here next to you, however and whenever you need."

"Jungkook," your officiant hands him your ring. "Please place this ring on __’s finger and when you're ready you may begin."

"When I saw you years ago, waiting at the crosswalk, I thought you were the most beautiful and intriguing person I'd ever seen in my life." He puts the ring on your fourth finger. "And then you dropped your wallet and it gave me the best opportunity to approach you. Little did I know, the sight of a man running after would make you run too. But you took my number in the end and three years later, the love of my life is standing before me. Everything I am and have belongs to you __, always and forever."

Your officiant smiles at you both as Jungkook struggles to keep his distance from you a few seconds longer. He's been waiting for this very moment since the day you agreed to be his boyfriend. He just can't take it any longer!

"In the presence of...oh for the love of might," your officiant stops mid-sentence when she sees Jungkook shuffling his feet closer and closer towards you. "Never in my twenty years of performing marriages have I seen a groom this eager to get married. Go ahead and kiss your wife hun! Mr. and Mrs. Jeon Jungkook everyone!"

Massive grin on his face, Jungkook grabs your waist and dips you low into a romantic kiss. The crowd goes wild at the dramatic gesture, whistling and clapping behind you.

After about a million more tears, speeches, first dances, a surprise song preformed by the wedding party, and Jungkook practically ripping off the lace garter around your thigh with his teeth, the wedding festivities come to an end. But not before you both find yourself being guided to a secret place led by Taehyung.

The wedding party insisted you be blindfolded beforehand. So here you are, almost pitch black out and clinging to Jungkook's arm.

"I don't understand why I need to be blindfolded and you don't," you say.

"I'm not sure," he replies. "Maybe they got you a gift or something."

"We're here! Stop!" You hear Taehyung shout from a few feet ahead and Jungkook freezes in place. You're body jolts forward a little with the sudden pause.

"__." Jungkook calls your name softly. "Open your eyes."

You flutter your lids open and at first, the sight before you is hazy as you adjust to the night sky. But then, your jaw drops to the ground.

In front of you is a charming river surrounded by perfectly arched cherry blossoms with lanterns hanging from the branches. All the lanterns illuminate the entire length of the stream, including around the bends and curves. At the edge of the stream is a small dock where a wooden row boat floats with a set of oars inside.

"Oh my god." Your eyes trail as far down the river as you can. You've only ever seen this in movies, so you're incredibly overwhelmed by the sight. "Jungkook, are we-are we going in there?"

He watches as you openly gape at the scene in front of you. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

You whip your head in his direction. "Are you kidding? It's amazing! Did you know about this?"

His big grin tells you everything you need to know.

"He planned everything himself," Namjoon speaks up. "Come on, your boat's waiting. It'll take you all the way to one of the best hotels in Seoul. I know you're going on your honeymoon tomorrow but we thought a night up in a five-star hotel might be nice. Unless you want to go back to Jungkook's house of course but...we kinda already grabbed your suitcases for the trip and had them put in your room."

"You're serious?"

"Dead serious __."

You snake your arms out Jungkook's arm and swing them around him. "I can't thank you enough for doing this, Joon."

He places a gentle hand on your upper back. "Of course, but like I said. Jungkook planned everything so you should thank him more than me." He laughs and breaks away from you when he sees the younger man eyeing the two of you excruciatingly close. "I think your husband would like you back now."

Jungkook comes up behind you and sneakily slips your hand in his tatted one. "Are you ready?" He gestures towards the boat.

You nod and he pulls you towards the dock, helping you into the boat first when you approach it. He sits across from you after and grabs the oars of the boats, lowering them into the water one at a time.

"Wait!" Taehyung lunges over the edge of the boat with something small and black in his palm. "Don't forget this." He clips a tiny microphone to his shirt and you scrunch your eyebrows.

"What's this about?" You ask.

Taehyung only half-smirks at you and backs away from the boat. "We'll see you when you come back from the honeymoon okay? Have fun! But please, for the sanity of us all, don't text us any details. In the words of the wise, keep the private things private!"

Jungkook laughs and starts rowing the boat forward and down the stream. You, on the other hand, wave goodbye to everyone as you drift further and further away from the dock.

"So, husband," you sit with your elbows on your knees. "What's the mic for?"

Jungkook doesn't reply but shushes you instead. He tests the mic a couple of times before soft music comes from either side of you. Apparently, there are stereos lined down the banks of the river.

When he starts singing, you cover your mouth in overwhelming joy.

"Summer has already spread in the air

Breeze is already blowing.

The last cold snap is going out

The days were getting longer and longer

But my days were still going on and on and on

I got wet in the sunshower, I looked up at the night sky..."

At this moment the lanterns start twinkling, reflecting like raindrops in the water. You look all around you, taking in the change of atmosphere. Jungkook's cool eyes focus on you intently as he continues serenading you.

"It was quite a lonely night

In the blink of an eye, the dark faded out

Blooming under the sunlight

Memories with me and you..."

The boat rows left and you peer over your shoulder. Taehyung and the rest of the wedding party are barely visible by now. When you look ahead again, you see that you're about to go under a stone bridge. On the other side are more cherry blossom trees and a glimpse of downtown Seoul.

"All these lights are colored in by you

All these times are precious due to you

Four seasons have passed with you

Four scents were left 'cause of you

All the reasons why I can laugh out

All the reasons why I sing this song

Thankful to be by your side now

I'll try to shine brighter than now..."

Jungkook rows the two of you closer to the city as he finishes his song, passing a number of other couples taking night strolls together. The wind blows a little but it doesn't make you shiver at all—his voice warms your soul.

And when you lean in to kiss him once the boat reaches the dock near the hotel, fingers grazing his cheeks, your body yearns to be near his.

It takes little to no time for the two of you to find your hotel room. Jungkook swipes your keycard in the door and in you both go, your hand shamelessly yanks at his tie.

He presses you up the back of the door once it's locked shut and kisses you with a fiery passion. It's different from all the other times; neither rough nor soft, as he sucks on your bottom lip, eagerly begging to deepen the kiss.

"Kook," you let out a muffled moan when his tongue finds its way into your mouth. It's a wrestle at first, your tongues toying with each other. And once you get the hint that he's not about to back down you start threading your fingers through his hair.

"I love it when you do that," he groans and pushes himself against your body, grinding his growing bulge against your center.

You whine against his lips and grind your hips back into his. "I know you do," you tease and a strong pair of hands wander your waist before traveling behind to grip your ass.

You yelp when he squeezes your cheeks and starts rutting himself into you faster. He moves his pillowy lips to the side of your neck too, peppering you with kisses from the the sensitive area right below your earlobe and all the way down to your collarbone.

"Fuck," he grunts, nothing short of frustrated, when your dress stops him from kissing down any further. The hands gripping your ass move up to find the zipper of your gown. "Please, baby, can I remove it?"

"Yes, go ahead," you nod and retract your hands from his hair to let the gown fall off your shoulders. Jungkook watches lustfully as your bare breasts are revealed to him little by little. He's seen them a million times but each time is always like his first, his eyes never fail to dilate.

"Perfect," you hear him whisper under his breath. And when the gown pools to the ground around your feet with a heavy thump, he can't hold himself back any longer.

He needs you.

One by one he starts tearing off his suit jacket, then his vest and leather belt until he's left standing in nothing else left except his black underwear. His muscles bulge without even having to flex and his pecs are more than solid.

If he weren't the love of your life, you'd say he was damn intimidating. Yet the pleasure you get from simply viewing his perfectly toned body is ridiculous and what pushes you further is the gold band wrapped around his fourth finger.

Jungkook must be feeling the same as his hands are back on your hips in the seconds following, pushing you to the wall adjacent to the door and attacking the area near your collarbone again with his plushy lips. You whine when his large pecs rub against your pebbled nipples.

"God what have you been lifting these day Jeon? Half of Seoul?" You rest your hands on his biceps which tense at the touch.

"Uh uh," he tsks in response. "Can't call me that anymore. We share the same name now." He kisses your shoulder then moves his mouth over to a nipple. He licks one first, teasing it with the tip of his tongue until you moan for him to keep going.

"You have such soft boobies," he comments before finally sucking on one. Your head falls back from the pleasure it sends up your spine.

"Do you have to say it like that?"

He switches to the other breast, licking and sucking it firmly like the he'd done previously. "What's wrong with boobies? I like the word."

You chuckle and decide to let him have his fun. Pick you battles __, you hum to yourself.

Jungkook tugs at the string of your underwear after placing one last kiss atop each boob. He slowly pulls the thin material down your legs at your consent and you step out from them.

"Lean against the wall and throw your leg over my shoulder," he tells you on bended knees.

You do as he says, swinging a leg over his shoulder. The movement has his head face to face with your cunt which is not in the least bit dry from all the teasing and grinding earlier.

Jungkook sticks a finger in his mouth, wetting it with his spit and then rubs it back and forth between your folds. The lubrication mixes with your own arousal.

"Jungkook," you whine when he doesn't sink his finger in right away, despite the fact that you're well prepared for it.

He blinks at you through his lashes with a devious smirk. "What?" He asks. "You don't like this?"

"I do but I need more. Please," you beg. "Fingers. In me. Please."

He groans at the way your voice seems to crack the more you beg. Well, he's made you wait long enough. Jungkook pushes his finger into your velvet walls all at once, dragging it back and forth in search of your sweet spot.

He knows he's found it when you instantly buck your hips and the leg that's over his shoulder reflexively clamps down on him.

"Right here?" He curls his finger inside you and it has your pussy already throbbing for him. You don't even have to ask for a second finger before he does the honors himself, sliding another into you then proceeding to make a scissoring motion with both digits. "Or here?" He asks again.

"Anywhere," you barely make out through your gasps. "Just don't stop what you're doing."

"What if I wanna lick your pussy?" He pumps his fingers faster all while maintaining focus on your face. "Make you come all over my tongue."

"God Kook, do whatever you want," you reply and it's all the push he needs to remove his fingers from out of you to replace it with his mouth. "Fuck!" You cry as he desperately licks long stripes up your slippery folds, tongue dipping inside for additional pleasure.

He repeats the motion several times until he decides its not enough and sucks on your clit.

"Oh, that feels so good, fuck, fuck Jungkook," you moan with eyes closed and a shaky breath.

Your legs start trembling as your first orgasm of the night builds inside. It gets closer and closer as Jungkook works faster and faster before finally, the cord inside you breaks free.

Jungkook happily swallows as much of your cum as he can. He uses his wrist to wipes his mouth after, cleaning up any leftover.

"First time eating my wife out," he starts, guiding your leg over his shoulder back on the ground. "What a fucking turn on."

Jungkook stands up and pulls you into an embrace with both hands, your bare bodies press tight against each other. Then, without any warning, he swoops up your legs with one hand supporting your lower back and lifts your into his arms.

"Kook!" You call his name in suddeness of the action.

"Yes? What is it wife?" He carries you to the large, king size bed that's covered in rose petals and lays you on top. His handsome face leans over you with careful, attentive eyes while a hand reaches for one of the soft pillows nearby to slip under your head.

It's now that the weight of the moment hits you, as if you've just doven off a steep cliff and head first into the rushing rapids of the ocean.

"I love you," you say.

Jungkook sticks his thumbs in the band of his underwear and pushes it down until he can easily remove them. He's fully hard when he crawls over top of you after, and places his hands on either side of your head.

"I love you too." He lowers his head to capture your lips into a deep kiss. "Now," he continues, sitting up on his knees and shimmying his thighs up your frame. "I think I might need some help here."

He grips his pulsating length, tan tip leaking with pre-cum. You widen your mouth gladly and he shoves his length to the back of your throat.

"Mm!" You gag but to say you hate it would be a lie.

Jungkook doesn't move at first, letting you get used to the weight of his cock on your tongue first. He bites his lip as you hallow your cheeks the best you can.

"I don't want to come, I just want it wet okay?" He tells you and you nod in understanding. "Fuck, so good," he lets out a throaty growl after the first thrust.

You suck him as hard as you can as he fucks your mouth at a steady pace, making sure his cock will be nice and well-lubricated with your spit this time.

"Can't believe we're married," he thrusts faster, teeth clenching together. "My wife, mine forever. No one else can have you. I won't let them."

You blink your glassy eyes at him, thighs struggling to rub together due to the arousal pooling between your legs for the tenth time tonight.

You love him so fucking much.

Jungkook pulls himself out of your mouth while you're in thought, a string of spit following. He backs himself down your body until he can properly hover over you in a straddling position.

"Legs up," he commands and you wrap them around his waist in a criss-cross position. His wetted length finds your entrance with little guidance and pushes forward, stretching your walls so deliciously well.

"Oh my god," you shudder as his cock sinks all the way in thanks to both of you being incredibly worked up and lubricated. Your hands fly under his arms after two thrusts, to grip his back. "Fuck, you're so deep Kook."

"I know, holy shit," he grunts and beats himself into you. He likes the feeling of your body bouncing up and down underneath him so leans down on his elbows to fuck you faster and harder. "I think this might be the deepest I've been in you baby, so wet for me—fuck!"

He moans loudly when your nails claw his back. "Shit I'm sorry!" You relax your fingers immediately when he winces at the slight pain.

"No," he nips at your jaw. "I like it, keep doing it. Mark me up." He snaps his hips into yours and you claw at his back again, harsher than the last time; not enough to hurt him but enough to make him moan in your ear over and over again.

"Jungkook! Too much," you pant as he burries his head in your neck, trailing hot open mouth kisses to the area. "It's too much, I'm gonna come!"

"Fuck, that's the goal baby!"

"Yeah but, don't wanna come so soo—"

He shuts you up with his tongue shoving between you lips, kissing you with a purpose. You's body squirms at the pleasure and you find yourself clenching around his thick length that yes, twitches in response.

"Three years together and you still think I'll give you one round and call it quits. Since when baby?" He groans as he feels himself achingly close to his high (you too). "Tell me, since fucking when?" He emphasizes once more.

You're too lost in how close you are to your second orgasm to give him an answer.

"That's right, never."

One hard thrust later and you come on his length. It takes little time before he releases in you as well, yet he continues his pace.

"That's one down," Jungkook says, riding out both your orgasms which slowly works you up to another. "Not including any eating out. And if my memory serves our record is five. Don't you think we should surpass that now that we're legally bonded to each other Mrs. Jeon? In sickness and in health was it?"

"I'm still trying to recover from the first two orgasms I had tonight, including the fingering and you relentless dry humping."

"Baby," he coos. "My sweet baby, come here." With both arms Jungkook lifts your body with his until you're both in an upright, seated position. Your legs that were once wrapped around his waist rest on the mattress as he thrust up into your cunt. "Don't you know I just want to make you feel good? Why recover when you can be wrecked so heavenly over and over again?"

You moan and squeeze your hands on his shoulder. Jungkook studies your face, maintaining slow, calculated thrusts into you.

"Come for me again," he says.

And you do, sticky white liquid dripping down to the base of his cock and onto the sheets under you.

"You enjoyed that didn't you?" He smirks. "Let's see you get on all fours now. I'd love to see how well my wife takes it from behind."

You catch him off guard by pushing on his chest and guiding him flat on his back. "Mm no," you refuse him. "I think I'd like to get a taste of my husband as a bottom instead."

Jungkook's cock hardens inside you and his fingers settle around your hips as he smirks up at you. "Go ahead then," he tests. "Try getting yourself off."

"You think I can't do it?" You narrow your eyes and grind forward on his cock, earning you a deep growl from your new husband.

"We'll see how long you'll last before I have to flip you on your back and take over," he spats. "But good luck beautiful."

With a huff and determination in your eyes, you start a strong pace. Jungkook watches you with lustful eyes as you bounce on him– enjoying the show a little too much.

a/n: Thanks for reading! Lmk what you think 🥰

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[florencemtrash]

Wedding Invitations

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Miguel take the day to distribute wedding invitations to the Spider-Gang. But in the midst of all the congratulations they forget to tell a very important member of the wedding party...

Warnings: Fluff, Spider-Gang family dynamics, Miguel's got a touch of baby fever

Author's Note: I FINALLY got around to writing this Miguel x Reader oneshot that's been in my WIP dump for ages. This can be read on its own, or as a continuation of my Hummingbird series.

Masterlist of Masterlists

________________________

You blinked around Spidey-HQ, buzzing with excitement and armed with a stack of cream-colored envelopes. The cards within had the following words printed in lacy gold lettering:  

Miguel O’Hara and Y/n L/n Invite you to join their wedding celebration on Saturday, October 15,  2105 at 4:30pm St. Javier’s Cathedral 115 Hammond St

You’d visited Pavitr first, finding him tucked away in an alcove on the top floors where he went about carefully oiling his hair. 

“FINALLY!” He squealed, sprinting away to wash his hands before gingerly accepting the invitation like you’d just handed him a million dollars. “You’re getting married!” He snatched one hand, then the other, splaying your fingers and searching for the ring, “Where is it? Where is it? I want to see it.”

You chuckled, “Calm down, Gollum.” You reached into your shirt, pulling out the chain where you’d been hiding the ring for the past eight months. “I don’t wear it very often. Art teacher and superhero - remember?” 

It was a shame. It was a beautiful, vintage ring originally belonging to Miguel’s mother. He’d since updated it, replacing two of the missing stones with small burgundy gems that matched the color of his eyes. Even if you couldn’t wear it often, you kept it with you at all times, resting against your heart. 

Pavitr began to vibrate with excitement, bouncing on his feet. “Can I-Can I tell-?”

“Yes, you can tell people.” 

“Really?!” He brightened up.

“Yes. Miguel’s probably already sent out a general announcement by now.”

As if on cue both your watches beeped, a red notification popping up.

Announcement:  Y/n and I are getting married. Don’t get upset if you're not invited to the ceremony. There are literally thousands of you. Reception will be at Spidey HQ atrium Saturday, October 15, 2105 at 7pm. All are welcome.

“Perfect timing.” You said, smiling at the words Y/n and I are getting married. You still couldn’t believe it, even though you’d been sitting on the knowledge in silence for the past six months.

“Oh and Pavitr. Miguel will probably ask you this again later but… would you like to be a groomsman in the wedding?” 

Pavitr’s lips trembled, then broke into the widest smile imaginable, brown eyes crinkling. He surged forward, wrapping his lanky arms around you and spinning you around.

“YES! YES! A million times yes!” He gasped. You may as well have gotten on your knees and asked for his hand in marriage. “Oh my goodness this is all I've ever wanted. What are the wedding colors? I need to get a new sherwani.” He finally let you down, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you desperately, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS SOONER?!” 

You gripped his hands, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling. Pavitr's energy was unmatched and you could feel his joy rubbing off on you.

“It’s really going to be a simple ceremony. And we didn’t want to pressure any of you with the typical wedding prep stuff.” 

He looked incredulous, “So no bachelorette party? No-no manicure days or spa days or...” 

You shook your head no and his jaw dropped.

“WRONG!” He shouted, touching the tip of your nose with his finger, “Are you free next Saturday night? Yes? Good.” He shook his finger at you, “No wedding prep stuff? Really? Pah!” He threw his hands in the air, muttering as he walked away and started dialing up Gwen and Miles.

“You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Gwen asked, mouth agape. She pushed her lunch tray to the side, the excitement chasing away her appetite for the time being.

“Fuck that. You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Miles slammed the milk carton on the table, spilling a few drops, “I thought I was your favorite.” 

“Piss off, Miles.” Gwen teased, ruffling his curls. "I'm her favorite."

“One semester abroad with Hobie and you’re already sounding like a Brit.” He teased back, never moving far enough apart from her that they weren’t touching. 

She’d recently gone for a shag haircut. The tips of her dyed hair fading into a pale bubblegum blue. The new nose piercing completed the look and Miles was smitten.

You wrung your hands together. “Well I’m telling you now! And! I’m asking you to be part of the wedding party. So what do you say? Wanna be a groomsman and a bridesmaid?”

They didn’t even look at each other before saying, “Absolutely!” In perfect unison.

The rest of the day went similarly, full of excited squeals and hugs and twirls. Everyone at Spidey-HQ - minus some of the newcomers - knew who you were and didn’t hesitate to shout their joy, whooping and calling out across the atrium.

“CONGRATS, TEACH!” 

“LET’S GO! SPIDER-WEDDING!” 

“CONGRATULATIONS!” 

Hobie leaned against the window, hands shoved into the pockets of his patchwork leather jacket and flashing every color of the rainbow. 

He stuck his hand out without a word, a crooked smile on his face, “I don’t believe in state-sanctioned marriage, you know. You and Miguel are already married - have been for ages in my book.”

“You rummaged around in your bag for the last of the invitations, finally locating the envelope that had slipped into one of the inner pockets and out of sight. 

You hesitated, trying to hide your disappointment, “... so does that mean you’re not coming then?”

Hobie quickly snatched the invitation out of your hands, slinging his arm around your shoulder and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles. You laughed, shoving him away and fixing the tangles he’d made in your hair. 

“Pffft, of course I’m coming. It’s important to you.” He shoved the cream-colored paper into his pockets alongside a couple posters he hadn’t found a proper place to plaster them on yet. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He smirked, “But I hope you’re not expecting me to show up in a suit.” 

“Wear whatever you feel comfortable in.”

“And are you going to ask me to be a groomsman or something? Make a toast at dinner?” There was no contempt in his voice… If anything he seemed expectant. Happy. 

“Actually, Miguel and I were hoping you could be the flower girl with May and Benjy.” 

He brightened up, flashing a sunflower yellow and shooting off curls of newspaper print like fireworks. 

“HA! I like it. I like it.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets, opening his arms wide and sighing like he was giving up on an age-old war, “Alright, get in here, girl. I wanna hug you.” 

You giggled, scrunching up your nose in satisfied glee as Hobie finally gave into his softness. He liked to pretend he was cooler than everyone else in the room - and he usually was - but that didn’t stop him from also being the softest person you’d ever met. 

“Congratulations.” He said, propping his head up on top of your head and mussing up your hair once again.

“Thanks, Hobie.” 

You weren’t alone in spreading the news - Miguel was making his own rounds. Margo was the first one he’d told, by virtue of the fact that she was nearest to his office. 

“Hey, Margo.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. He held out the envelope, Margo’s headpiece peeling away from her sleek cornrows. Her eyes glittered purple, wide open and staring.

“Really?” She asked hesitantly, reaching out for the paper. 

“Of course, Margo. You’re family. We want you there.” 

Her eyes softened and she read through the invitation quietly.

“Y/n was also hoping you’d be a bridesmaid.” He tapped the additional paper sealed in her envelope. “Nothing fancy, but we wanted you at the front with everyone else. Miles, Gwen, Peter B, LEGO P-oof.” 

Miguel huffed as Margo all but rammed into his chest, the edges of her flickering. Who knew virtual reality bodies were so durable and dense.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, trying to keep any emotion out of her voice.

Margo didn’t like to talk about home, preferring the VR life she led with the Spider-Society. They were her real family now… she just liked the confirmation. 

“Anytime, kid.” 

She cleared her throat, pushing him away as quickly as she’d hugged him. “Alright, get out of here. I’m sure everyone wants to see you right now.” She turned around, wiping at her eyes in real life. Her VR body did the same. 

Miguel chuckled, rubbing his neck again. He wasn’t used to the kind of attention he’d been receiving since meeting you and learning to open up again. It was almost as if he was likable when he wasn’t acting like a complete asshole.

He was chased by compliments and congratulations all day, Spider-people stopping him to clap him on the back or to bump shoulders like they knew just how absolutely whipped he was.

Something about announcing your engagement to the world made the whole thing feel more real, like he could taste it as physically as he could taste your lips whenever he kissed you. He didn’t wear his engagement ring very often for the same reasons as you, but he slipped it on his finger halfway through the day, standing a little straighter, and looking a little prouder after doing so. 

LEGO Peter was next and he’d practically swooned when Miguel had handed him his invitation between his thumb and pointer finger. He’d printed an extra-small version for him. Then he’d fainted when Miguel asked him to be a groomsman, his brick body going rigid and toppling back with the same rattle as a teacup saucer.

“I’m taking that as a yes!” Miguel called out, slipping his head back out of the portal into his own universe.

He needed to make a home visit for Jessica, but she had a champagne bottle ready to burst when Miguel appeared into her home in a crackle of color and brushstrokes.

“AHH! HA!” She tossed her head back with glee. Her mane of pitch black hair smelled like coconut and citrus. “CONGRATULATIONS! Malcolm! Malcolm, get your ass in here. Miguel’s arrived.” 

Her husband slid across the living room entrance, a chubby three-year-old boy balanced on his hip and grabbing at his locs. 

“Miguel!” 

“Hey, Malcolm.”

“Mig!” 

“Heyyyy, Jefferson.” Miguel laughed when the little boy grabbed at him, latching onto a strand of brown hair and tugging. 

Jessica clicked her tongue, “Jeff, what have we talked about.”

“Sorry.” The boy apologized, patting Miguel’s head and slapping him in the face in the process. 

“It’s alright, kid.” 

“OOooooh. Get in here, Migs.” Jessica was grinning brighter than the sun, radiating warmth as she wound her arms around his ribs and used her strength to lift him off his feet and shake him like a rag doll.

“Careful, Jess. Can’t break the groom before his wedding.” 

“Pfffft, Miguel’s not made of glass, honey.” 

That much was obvious enough. Miguel had to keep his body crooked to avoid banging his head against the hanging ceiling lights. 

“Congratulations, man.” Malcolm hugged him next, being notably gentler than his wife. He still slapped Miguel’s back hard enough to rattle his shoulders though. 

Miguel stayed for a long while, until him and Jess had made their way through three bottles of champagne just because they could. Their bodies burned through alcohol way too quickly to get drunk - a fact that had disappointed Miles when he went off to college for the first time last year. 

Jess and Malcolm leaned towards one another like sunflowers to light, with little Jefferson splashed across both their knees and struggling to stay awake as the sun pressed against the windows and turned their pale yellow walls golden. 

That would be him someday, with you and your son.

The thought shook him to his core. First, because it was a secret hope that he’d never dared to even dream about and second, because it was now possible. Wonderfully, beautifully possible. 

His heart began to flutter, the absence of you by his side suddenly feeling like a gaping hole instead of a subtle ache. 

Jess seemed to understand that, making a show of looking at the clock and then down at her son’s open mouth drooling against Malcolm’s arm. 

“We should get this little guy to bed.” 

“On it.” 

“I’ll head out then. Thanks for everything, Jess.”

She made a noise with her tongue, brushing off his thanks with a graceful wave of her hand. “Get out of here you big sap. And tell Y/n I said congratulations too! Actually, scratch that. I’m coming in tomorrow so I’ll tell her in person.” 

Miguel chuckled, “Alright then.” 

He gave a final hug to Malcolm and Jessica. Jefferson stirred in his mother’s arms just long enough to babble something that sounded adorably close to, “I’m not… I’m not sleepy. I-” before his eyes rolled back and he slumped onto Jessica’s shoulder. 

You sat curled up in Miguel’s office chair, legs thrown over one of the armrests as you flipped through the pages of your book on the life of Aubrey Vincent Beardsley. Occasionally your eyes would flicker to the array of monitors, watching the careful web of universes as they flickered and morphed. Fluid, but stable, and in a perfect balance of chaos and order. 

Miguel drifted into the room behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and peppering the curve of your neck with kisses.

“Mi amor,” He murmured. You hummed happily, tilting your head further to give him better access. “How is everything going on with you?”

“Better now that you’re here.”

“That’s a pretty great answer.” He chuckled, finishing with a quick kiss to your lips. He came around, lifting you up with ease before sitting down in his chair and placing you in his lap, “And how are things in the Spider-Verse?”  

You made a self-satisfied hmph sound. Thank god he’d finally stopped calling it the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse. What a mouthful. 

“Holding strong and steady.” You flicked your fingers to the side, pulling up the latest day report that you’d already handed two hours ago, “B76’s Black Cat and 1805’s Venom were the only anomalies. Done and dusted with no issue. Reports are on file under Project Catalyst.”

“Perfect.” 

Miguel stretched comfortably, curling in on you and resting his head on your chest like the world’s most luxurious cat.

You snorted, blinking your book away with a snap of your fingers and running your fingers through his hair just the way he liked. He groaned softly when you lightly dragged your fingernails against his scalp. 

“Right there, babe.” He encouraged, sighing with contentment. 

You stayed like that for a long while, one of Miguel’s arms wrapped around your waist and his other hand snaking up your stomach to rub circles against your smooth skin. Unbeknownst to you, he was quietly thinking about what it might be like if you ever decided to have kids. If one day he’d be so lucky to lay like this against you and quietly talk to the little child growing in your stomach. 

He shook his head, he was getting ahead of himself.

“Everything ok, Migs?” You curled your finger beneath his chin, gently tilting his face up to look at you. His eyes softened.

“Yeah. Everything’s perfect.” 

You couldn’t help it, you blushed under the softness of his gaze. It was strange how you could get into hundreds of fist-fights, get knocked on your ass dozens of times over, and yet crumble at the sight of his auburn eyes. You didn’t mind the vulnerability though - you knew Miguel felt the same. 

You looked down at his hands, noticing the flash of silver on his finger.

"You wore it today?"

He smiled when you took his hand in yours, kissing his palm, "Felt appropriate."

You tugged the necklace out from under your shirt, carefully slipping the ring off the chain. Miguel took it wordlessly from you, gently kissing your hand before sliding the ring onto your finger. It was warm to the touch after hours pressed against your heart and Miguel felt a surge of love flood his chest seeing you wear it.

“Busy day, huh?” You asked when he settled back down, holding your hand tightly in his.

He groaned, “You could say that. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many people talk to me in my life.” 

You prodded him in the side, “That’s not saying very much.”

“Ouch.” He grinned, kissing your chest. 

“Did everyone say yes to joining the wedding party?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yup.” Your lips popped on the end of the word.

Miguel grinned wide and unabashedly leaning closer to you, “Then we got ourselves a wedding,” he said, smiling against your lips. He tasted like coffee and cinnamon. 

You chuckled, “Maybe we shouldn’t have sprung this on them so soon.”

Miguel shrugged, “We needed to tell them at some point, cariño. And it’s not like we’re doing all the extra stuff. They just need to show up to the church at this point.” 

“I know that. But Pavitr seemed to disagree. Apparently I'm going to have a bachelorette party next weekend.” 

He pouted, “No party for me?! I’m hurt.” 

“Peter didn’t bring it up with you? I thought he'd be over the moon about being Best Man.”

Miguel’s head shot up, thick brows furrowing in confusion beneath a bed of ruffled curls, “I thought you were going to tell Peter.”

You tipped your head to the side, “I thought you were going to tell to Peter?” 

“Yeah, LEGO Peter.” 

Silence, thick and full of horror fell over both of you. 

“Did… did neither of us tell Peter and MJ?” You whispered. 

Miguel closed his eyes, his face plummeting into the soft skin of your chest, “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

The double doors to Miguel’s office slid open with a groan of disappointment. Peter stood there with his legs splayed, carving out a disgruntled shape in his signature pink bathrobe that he never took off, especially with the new addition to his family. 

Mayday clung to her father’s chest, her brother’s chestnut mop poking out from behind Peter’s shoulder. Benjy’s grin was gummy and wide and he wore matching noise-canceling headphones with his sister.

“Fuck.” You repeated, your face falling flat. 

MJ leaned against the doorway and rubbed her temples with one hand, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter as Peter stalked forward, absolutely livid. 

“You MOTHERFUCK—

*cut scene*

*Alexa, play 'Blitzkrieg Bop' by The Ramones*

____________________

Author's note (again!):

Just some funny gifs I thought were appropriate for the characters:

Peter storming into the room because his best friends forgot to tell him about their engagement:

Pavitr learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:

LEGO Peter learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Love,

Florence B.

[lathalea]

Entangled 4/10

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf OFC (The Hobbit) Rating: G (subject to change) Warnings: ANGST Summary: Arranged marriages are common among the dwarven nobility. After reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, the Kingdom Under the Mountain needs to be rebuilt. Thorin agrees to marry a lady from the Blue Mountains, securing a mutually beneficial alliance with the Broadbeam Dwarves. Lady Mista is said to be a practical and hard-working dwarf-woman, willing to give him an heir who would secure the line of succession. A decent queen material, his advisors say. If only Thorin could let go of his past… You can find this fic on AO3 (search for lathalea).

A/N: First of all, sorry it took me so long to update this story but your comments and messages kept me going! TRSB and Real Life™️ hit me hard, but I haven't forgotten about this story. In fact, I have a treat for you: an XXL-sized chapter as a thank you for your patience 💙 Special thanks to @legolasbadass and @absentmindeduniverse for your help. You are amazing and you made this chapter so much better than it originally was! 🤩🙏💙 -*-*-*- KHUZDUL: ‘Urdêk - ereborean variant of Lonely Mountain (referring to the Halls within the mountain) Nadad - brother Nan’ith - little/young sister Zabdûna - the Queen Zabdûna undu ‘Urd - Queen Under the Mountain Khagal'abbad - Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains Azsâlul'abad - the Lonely Mountain (both the mountain and the dwarven kingdom known among Elves and Men as Erebor) Tumunzahar - an ancient dwarven city in the Blue Mountains rebuilt by the Broadbeams in this story. The Elves call it “Nogrod”. Gabilgathol - an ancient dwarven city in the Blue Mountains rebuilt by the Firebeards in this story. The Elves call it “Belegost”. Thorinuldûm - Thorin’s Halls, the settlement of the refugees from the Lonely Mountain in the Blue Mountains Iglishmêk - the sign language widely used by all the dwarves -*-*-*-

✨ Chapter list: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4... ✨ Entangled Masterlist

Thorin opened his eyes with a gasp. That cursed dream again. Those eyes…

Several deep breaths helped to banish the haunting afterimages from his mind for good. Deep inside the Mountain — much deeper than the Royal Chambers — the mine bell struck eleven times. One hour before noon. It was later than he expected.

Thorin’s head was pounding, and the bitter aftertaste of rowanberry brandy in his mouth made him yearn for a mug of water. Slowly, he rose, noticing that he was not in his bed but in his armchair, still wearing some of yesterday's clothes. His finely embroidered undershirt and similarly adorned trousers — now crumpled. Parts of his wedding attire. His wedding.

He truly needed a drink.

The only thing he found in his chamber was an empty brandy bottle that lay forgotten on the floor. For a moment, Thorin wanted to ring for a servant, irritated at the fact that he slept so long — and his usual breakfast tray was nowhere to be seen. Had they overslept in the kitchens as well? What could have been so important that… Of course. His wedding.

He grunted. There was not going to be any breakfast tray and no servants. Not until he rang for them, at least. No one would disturb him in the morning after his wedding night. Frowning, Thorin managed to recall that a celebratory dinner was scheduled later that day — not only for the people of ‘Urdêk, but also for the whole royal family and the family of the bride. His wife.

Thorin ran a hand down his face. He was a married Dwarf now. A husband. Years and years ago, in another lifetime, that thought would have made him enormously proud — and happy. And yet, on this very morning, the only thing he felt was that bitter taste in his mouth — and shame; his foolish dreams of youth long forgotten. The weight of a new braid in his hair, the marriage braid, was not a symbol of perfect, eternal love he had foolishly envisioned as a youth. This braid only denoted the contract between the two dwarven houses: the Longbeards and the Broadbeams. 

A memory from the previous day appeared in his mind: pale, small, pale fingers nervously sliding through his hair, braiding a pattern that was unfamiliar to him. The personal pattern of the lady who now occupied the adjacent bedchamber — Lady Mista. The woman he had barely met and knew nothing of. His wife.

He should have felt something about this image, anything — sadness or perhaps the satisfaction of yet another duty he fulfilled as the King; hope or disenchantment. There was nothing — only a gaping hole deep inside him where his feelings should be. He stared with disappointment at the empty brandy bottle in his hand, and placed it on the table beside him with a clank. 

Perhaps everything was as it should be. His was an arranged marriage, after all. The Kingdom Under the Mountain needed an heir to the throne. The future and prosperity of the realm depended on it. It was Thorin’s duty to fulfil, and time was of the essence. As the ancient scriptures stated, only the firstborn son of the firstborn son — of the current king — had the right to the throne of this realm. The Book of Law emphasised that it had to be the direct descendant of Durin — as the line remained unbroken since the beginning of time. If the direct line was to be lost, the next in line was the second son and his progeny. Thorin closed his eyes and Frerin’s kindred face appeared before him — and quickly disappeared. That future perished more than one hundred and forty years ago beneath the East Gate of Khazad-dûm before it even had a chance to come to fruition. As for the other possibilities… they were just as painfully non-existent.

“Is there truly no legal way to name Fili or Kili as my heir apparent, Master Maldur?” Thorin crumpled a piece of parchment in his hand.

“I am afraid not, Sire.” The elderly scholar adjusted the emerald pince-nez on his nose. “They are both the sons of a daughter of Durin.”“Besides, since Fili is married to Lady Fridvi of the Firebeards. According to the treaty between our houses, their firstborn child will rule in the Blue Mountains,” added Balin with an apologetic smile.

“Aye. Even if it’s a daughter,” Thorin said and added, as if to himself, “I have always thought the Firebeards to be more sensible when it came to the laws of succession.”“Yes, well, Your Majesty…” Master Maldur cleared his throat in ill-disguised disapproval, shuffling some parchments in front of him. “The Longbeard laws, however, clearly state that if no male heir is procured by the current king before his 200th birthday, the next Dwarf in line — albeit one who is not a direct descendant of Durin — would be the grandson of your Grandfather’s brother, Grór, the firstborn son of his firstborn son, Nain, your…”

“I do know the lineage of my cousin, Dain Ironfoot, quite well, thank you,” Thorin remarked curtly. Genealogy, lineages, and recounting endless familial connections always made him irritable.

“And hypothetically speaking, if your revered cousin was not there to claim the crown of the Kingdom Under the Mountain, may Mahal give him long life,” Maldur spoke in his hoarse voice that made Thorin think of crumbling stones, “the next in line would be, of course, Lord Balin, the firstborn son of Fundin, the firstborn son of Farin, who, in turn, was the firstborn…”

“Thank you, Master Maldur.” Thorin nodded to him, having heard enough, and then turned to the firstborn son of Fundin. “Balin, how would you feel about becoming the next king?”

“I would rather not. Unless you and Dain plan to drink your way to the Halls of Awaiting together anytime soon?” Balin chuckled, shaking his head. “I have other plans, laddie, and besides, I’m not getting any younger.”

“And yet your wit is as sharp as it was one hundred years ago,” Thorin offered him a half-smile.

“Your Majesty, may I take this opportunity to point out how crucial it is that a direct descendant of Durin sits on the throne of Azsâlul'abad?” The frown on Master Maldur’s forehead deepened. “Additionally, the unfortunate discord between Your Majesty’s Grandfather and his brother, Grór, is vividly remembered by your subjects. Sadly, because of this, Lord Dain is quite an unpopular personage here. Not a favourable position to be in for a prospective ruler. If such an event were to happen, of course.”

“Of course.” Thorin sighed. “Any more ideas, Balin? Lord Bori?”

Balin slowly shook his head.

“May I remind you, Your Majesty, that we have received several offers of alliance through marriage?” said the white-haired chancellor, who — until that very moment — remained silent. Lord Bori always picked the perfect moment to strike.“Very well.” Thorin stood up, signalling that the meeting was adjourned. “It seems that we have run out of heirs. Balin, would you be so kind as to discuss the matter with my sister? I entrust you both with choosing a suitable royal consort for the King Under the Mountain.”

A thud brought him out of his reverie. It came from the adjacent bedchamber. Thorin heard two distinct voices, although he could not quite make out the words. It must have been Lady Mista discussing something with her maid, he suspected. He clearly recognized the soft lilt of his spouse’s voice, so characteristic among the Broadbeams. Perhaps she was readying herself for the day, as he should as well. Thorin was about to ring for his servant when a resonant voice reached his ears despite the thick door between their rooms.

“Why doesn't it surprise me, Mista?!” The voice was definitely feminine. “You had one job…” “Let me explain…” That was Lady Mista speaking. Thorin was able to recognize only one or two words.

“There is nothing to explain!” The first voice returned. “It was your wedding night, for Mahal’s sake! Couldn’t you have made an effort? Just look at yourself! For once in your life…”

“Mother, you don’t understand, I…” Lady Mista’s words trailed off. She sounded tense.

The pounding in Thorin’s head intensified. He glared at the door.

“Have you forgotten how hard your father and your uncle worked to achieve this?! Is that how you repay your family, Mista? By ruining everything? On the very first night?”

Without thinking, Thorin placed his hand on the door handle and pressed. He had heard enough.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he demanded.

In the silence that filled the room, just after he stepped into Lady Mista’s bedchamber, he saw Lady Mista sitting in her bed. Her face was as pale as the bed linen, her eyes wide, and her quilt pulled up to her chin. She looked at him as if she wanted to disappear underneath it. With her hair tousled and her slightly skewed spectacles, she looked more like a defenceless young maid than an adult Dwarf-woman.

Next to her bed stood a corpulent red-haired matron in a fashionable green-and-gold gown, her hair immaculately dressed, her neck and wrists adorned with elegant jewellery, her fisted hands resting against her hips.

“Your Majesty.” The matron executed a customary curtsy, offering him a sweet but artificial smile. “What an honour to see you in my daughter’s bedchamber. I believe…” “Lady Milva.” He gave her a curt nod of recognition and graced her with a cold stare. “You will have to forgive me, madam, but I do not intend to reciprocate. I, for one, cannot understand why you would choose this particular time to visit Her Majesty the Queen.”

“Ah, but Your Majesty would surely understand that I wanted to see to my daughter’s comfort on the very first day of her rule.” Her smile widened.

“Do you wish to imply that I am incapable of such a feat, madam?” Thorin hissed.

“Oh no, Your Majesty, not at all!” The matron attempted a giggle. “On the contrary, I believe it is my daughter who failed to see to your comfort.”

Thorin’s head seemed to be pounding even more than before.

“Mother, please…” He heard Lady Mista’s strained voice behind him.

“Enough, Mista, you should be apologising to His Majesty for disappointing him!” Lady Milva turned to her daughter and Thorin decided that he had heard enough.

“My lady, you are disturbing me and my spouse in our private chambers. Only because you are my wedded wife’s mother, My Lady, I am going to ask you kindly.” Thorin hissed. “Leave now.”

Silence filled the chamber for several heartbeats. Lady Milva’s gaze moved between her daughter and Thorin before she spoke again. 

“Very well, Your Majesty,” she replied stiffly, abandoning her insincere manner. “Mista, I will return later, to prepare you for dinner.”

“Is that what you wish, My Lady?” Thorin turned to Mista.

“I… Thank you, Mother,” Lady Mista’s words were a mere whisper as she clutched the quilt, “but I think I will manage on my own this time.”

Her mother stood there for a moment longer, her brow furrowed, and then she replied, “If that is what you wish.”

She made another curtsy to Thorin, and then, in a swift flurry of her opulent gown, she stormed out of the bedchamber.

“Forgive me, My Lord, have we woken you up?” The bedclothes rustled, making Thorin gaze at Lady Mista — the woman he wed yesterday. As she left the bed, he caught a glimpse of her bare feet, so much smaller than his, and so dainty. Her sleeping gown flowed elegantly down her body, hugging her figure and revealing patches of smooth skin that only a husband was allowed to see. Quickly, he looked away. He did not feel like one.

“I was already awake,” he offered, glancing around the chamber. “Have you broken your fast yet, My Lady?”

“No, My Lord,” she replied. “I’m afraid I lost track of time. I was reading.”

Thorin followed her gaze to the thick tome that lay open on the bed. It looked like something from the Royal Library of Erebor, but he did not recognize the cover.

“I’ll ring for breakfast for you then. You must be famished,” he offered. 

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Lady Mista replied, her words barely audible, like the chirping of a frightened little bird. “Would you… would you like to join me?”

Thorin shook his head decidedly. 

“I am expected elsewhere. The meeting of the Guildmasters is going to be held quite soon,” he was amazed at how easily this half-truth slipped out of his mouth. That meeting was on his general agenda, but no one expected him to join it, not so soon after his wedding.

“Oh, I see,” Lady Mista’s voice wavered, but she continued after a pause. “In that case, allow me, My Lord, to thank you for your… intervention. My Mother can be tempestuous at times, but she means well.”

“Forgive me, My Lady, but her behaviour was out of place,” he said, attempting to ignore the insistent pounding in his head. “You are not only her daughter but — first and foremost — the Queen. No one is allowed to treat you so, no matter the circumstances. No one. Not even her.”

Thorin took a deep breath in order to rein in his temper. He was abrupt, his words far from courteous, but his patience was wearing thin. The last thing he was willing to endure was a lady on the verge of tears, bullied by her own kin. A half-forgotten memory surfaced in his mind: those sobs, that lavish but abhorred wedding dress, and his sister’s words: “You can’t help it, nadad. This is women’s lot in life.” 

This time, unlike that other time, Thorin could help it — and so he did. That was the least he was able to do for this terrified woman. His wife.

He did not find the strength to look into her face once more and see those glossed-over eyes and those trembling lips. Instead, he excused himself under the pretence of procuring breakfast and left her bedchamber.

He found his reward in the form of a full jug of water in the adjacent parlour. Quenching his thirst, he rang for a servant. Katla, Lady Mista’s new maid, arrived soon after. She was one of the maids who worked for their family when they lived in the Blue Mountains. Now, however, Dis decided that Katla was exactly the person Lady Mista would need. The girl was unusually agitated, and as soon as Thorin asked about Lady Milva’s presence in the Queen’s bedchamber, her countenance wavered. 

“Forgive me, m’lord,” she curtseyed, her gaze lowered reverently. “I had no means to stop Her Ladyship, I asked her not to disturb Your Majesties, but she said that she was the Queen’s mother and the Queen would dismiss me right away if Her Ladyship was not allowed to enter, and I thought…”

“Thank you, Katla, I understand,” he said. “You are not going to be dismissed. However, Her Majesty does not need such disturbances. Should someone attempt to storm into Her Majesty’s private chambers without her consent again, do not hesitate to call the guards.”

“Of course, m’lord,” Katla nodded stiffly. “And… Thank you. For not dismissing me.”

“My Mother, the Dowager Queen, always spoke highly of you. Now, I need you to take care of the new Queen in a similar manner. This is her new home, and we need to make her feel like it. Can I rely on you?”

“Always, m’lord.” A hopeful smile appeared on her face. “Does the Queen need anything now, m’lord?”

“She is requesting a hearty breakfast,” he ordered.

“I’ll be right back with her tray! Shall I bring one for you as well, m’lord?”

“No, thank you. I have matters to attend to.”

With these words, Thorin directed his steps to the Royal Baths. Hot water and steam were exactly what he needed at that very moment. A sizable pile of documents waited for him on his desk, but he needed to clear his head first.

***

“Here you are, nadad! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Dis’ voice made him raise his gaze from a parchment.

“Where else should I be?” Thorin tilted his head, observing his sister as she approached his desk. There was only a handful of braids in her modest hairdo — her wavy strands as dark as his own — and she wore a simple day dress. Yet, Dis looked more elegant than many other ladies in their finest gowns. She inherited her noble bearing and facial features from their paternal grandmother, after all.

“Where should you be? Let me see…” she tapped her mouth with her index finger and then asked innocently. “Perhaps with your wife?”

Thorin cursed inwardly. Dis inherited their grandmother’s wit, too.

“If only those trade licences could somehow sign themselves…” he grunted.

“And while you are drowning in parchments, your newly-wed wife is halfway through the second volume of The Golden Age of Azsâlul'abad,” she grunted back.

“The second volume?” Thorin’s eyebrow rose as he recalled the size of that monstrous twelve-volume work. He never managed to make it past the first one.

“Yes. Apparently, Mista finished the first one during lunch. Which she ate alone.” Dis folded her arms on her chest. It had never been a good sign when Grandmother Birgit folded her arms like that.

“I ate my lunch alone as well.” He pointed at a plate with a forgotten piece of dark bread left, half-covered by a couple of documents.

“On the first day of your marriage,” Dis retorted.

“These licences are vital for…”

“Thorin…” His sister rolled her eyes.

“Dis…” He sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“Some things need time,” he heard himself say.

“I know, Thorin,” Dis stepped to him, placing her hand on his forearm. “Of all the people in the world… I know.”

“At least you knew Vili before your wedding,” Thorin put his quill aside.

“Vaguely. While you managed to spend a whole evening with Mista in Tumunzahar.”

“Which apparently happened a long time ago — and of which I remember nothing.” He admitted with a frown and then drummed his fingers on the desk. “Nan’ith, I may have made an utter fool of myself yesterday.”

Dis sat heavily on a chair beside him, “Let me hear it.”

“Lady Mista was convinced that I remembered meeting her at a feast. Apparently, we danced and talked, and she expected me to…” He sighed. “I don’t know. The problem is that instead of playing along with it, I told her that I did not remember it at all.”

“Nadad, I have always admired your disarming honesty, but…” Dis paused and then grinned. “Well, it looks like you have figured it out yourself. You are an utter fool.”

When she elbowed him, as if they were smooth-cheeked youths again, Thorin simply had to elbow her back.

“Thank you, dearest sister. I know I could count on you.” He let out a lukewarm chuckle.

“How did she take it? Is that why you are hiding in here?” Thorin shook his head, “Lady Mista did not seem offended. I’d say she was perhaps… surprised? Disappointed?”

“I would be too if my future husband first sent me a letter in which he spoke fondly of our meeting years ago and then admitted to not remembering it at all,” Dis waved her hand in despair.

“A letter?” Thorin’s frown deepened.

“The letter. Don’t tell me you haven’t read it.” A frown appeared on her face as well. “Balin and I spent half a day composing it before it was sent along with the marriage contract.”

“For which I am very thankful. I have no head for this sort of letters, as you know.” “That was precisely why you were supposed to read it before it was sealed, Thorin.” She rolled her eyes.

“I knew I could trust you with its contents. Dis, we were rebuilding the Forges at that time! I barely had time to eat or sleep; that letter was hardly on top of my agenda.” 

His sister let out a long sigh.

“It is not me you should explain yourself to. What happened, happened. Tell me, do you truly not remember anything from that meeting?”

“This was one of many feasts I was obligated to appear at. Amicable relations with our allies, and all that,” he offered.

“We were there together, you know.”

“Were we?” Thorin searched his memory. To no avail. All those feasts seemed like a blur in his mind.

“Balin was there, too. And Dwalin, I think.” Dis added. “And Mother. She wore that emerald green gown.”

He tried once more. Still nothing.

“There was lots of food, lots of political scheming… Oh, and there were quite a few mothers flaunting their offspring at me and you. Mostly at you, the Crown Prince,” she snickered.

“You have just described most of the feasts I have attended in the past.” He ran a hand over his face. “Every time I felt like game during hunting season. Did I really spend the whole evening with Lady Mista?”

“Quite a bit of it.” Dis nodded. “You were seated next to a matron who insisted on making you dance with each of her daughters — I think she had two or three of them — and then you did what you usually used to do. You disappeared. When you returned, Mista was with you already, and then you danced. That matron, together with her cronies, was of course appalled, because you never even looked at anyone else. And Mista was not even formally out, she was maybe a few years over half battle-age at that time!”

“It seems that I scandalised the matrons of Tumunzahar and nearly robbed a cradle. What an achievement. And I cannot even remember it.” Thorin smiled wryly, although an image or two flickered before his eyes. A handkerchief with his monogram in a lithe hand. Grey-brown hair adorned with pearls.

“At least no one bothered you afterwards,” she put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “Now, I hope you find a way to make amends with your wife, nadad.”

Thorin gave her a nod, “You and me both. I simply do not have the slightest idea how to talk to her. I feel as if she is afraid of me.”

“We both know that you are not the greatest charmer when it comes to the matters of the heart,” she offered him a smirk. “And neither am I. I can only tell you what Mother told me once. Marriage is like the endless forging of a sword. If you want to make a great blade, you have to keep the fire going, and work the metal every single day. Draw it, shape it, and then keep on tempering it so that it never breaks.”

“She knew her way around the forge,” Thorin admitted fondly. He liked to think that he inherited his bladesmithing skills from their Mother.

“She knew how to deal with Father, too. I took her words to heart, and it worked for me — for us. Vili and me…” Dis cleared her throat. “We had nothing in common — or so I thought at first.” 

A sad smile softened her features, and Thorin covered her hand with his. 

“He was even younger than me,” she continued, “so rowdy and boisterous, and talked only of mountain goat races and throwing knives. Remember how terrified I was when I had to braid his hair?”

“You? Terrified? You were as decorous as Grandma Birgit would,” he said.

“That was because I knew Grandma Birgit would have been appalled if I fainted halfway through the ceremony. You cannot believe how mortified I was before the wedding night!” His sister chuckled.

“You asked me for two pints of the strongest malt beer we had,” Thorin offered lightly. It was good to see her smile.

“I only wanted to take the edge off things!” Dis grinned. “How was I supposed to know you spiked it with Dwalin’s horrible brandy?”

“You weren't. And you and Vili were supposed to drink them together. How should I know he would down them both at once?” He shrugged as if he had not seen it coming.

“I think I was the first bride in the history of Arda who spent her wedding night listening to her new husband’s loud snores.”

“You should talk with Bombur’s Ronja,” he quipped.

“Nadad! I shall not discuss their wedding night with her!” Dis feigned outrage only to burst out in laughter.

“Be glad that you did not hear his snores during the Quest. Every. Single. Night. He even made us think a storm was coming! And once, in the Misties…” It was so easy to fall back on the anecdotes from the past, and Thorin was awarded with another bout of laughter. Since Dis arrived back to the Mountain — their home — for the first time in years, it was easy to make her smile. There was a new spark in her eyes too, one that Thorin saw in countless eyes these days. A glint of hope for their reclaimed homeland they were rebuilding — and for their future. Was the same glint present in Lady Mista’s eyes last night? He could not say.

“Thank you”, Dis startled him, pecking him on his cheek.

“For what?” He met her eyes.

“For many things… like not terrifying your bride too much.”

Thorin swallowed, “What do you mean?”

“You know how you can be sometimes.” Dis patted his hand.

“Are you going to tell me once more that I scare others away with my ‘brooding’, or whatever you call it?” He rose from his chair and looked down at her.

“Not at all! Brooding is not as loud as snoring.” Tilting her head up, she winked at him. “Do you know you sometimes come off as quite intimidating?”

“I have never heard of such a notion,” Thorin let his lip curl up. “Especially from you.”

“What about that agreement you managed to hammer out last week with those stubborn donkeys, the Guildmasters?” Thorin knew better than to offer a reply.

“I heard your voice all the way to the warehouses! And when the Masters left the council chamber, they were meek as lambs, even the fiery Master Karg!”

“I simply reminded them that the world did not revolve around their coin pouches. Loudly.”

“I am glad you made use of it this morning.”

“You heard about what happened,” Of course. His sister had a knack for knowing things that did not happen in her presence.

“A word or two.” “Lady Mista’s mother needed to be put in her place,” Thorin quickly recounted his confrontation with Lady Milva. 

When he finished, Dis pressed her lips in a thin line.

“What a viper,” she huffed. “Now I know why Mista looked so shaken today. But we are in luck. The whole Broadbeam delegation is leaving in a week or so. We will manage.”

“We have managed worse.” He finished the thought, their private saying, one that they used since the vile Smaug ravaged their kingdom. Last time they spoke it happened just before the Quest to reclaim their homeland. Now, both the current circumstances and stakes felt vastly different, and Thorin could not help but wonder — would he manage?

“I must say you did wonders with the Queen’s bedchamber in such a short time.” Thorin admitted in a hasty attempt to change the subject. “It looks quite… comfortable. Especially with that tapestry from Grandmother’s chambers. And to think it survived Smaug almost untouched…”

“Oh, so you did spend some time with Mista after all?” Dis raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling. “Were there two pints of malt beer involved or not? Don’t you make that face at me, nadad! This was your wedding night and everyone will jest about it, whether you like it or not!”

Sadly, she was right.

***

Dis’ prophetic words proved true in the evening at the celebratory dinner. It was held in the largest cavern under the Mountain, the Great Hall. It was as tall as several levels of the Dwarven kingdom, making it easy for people to freely join and leave the festivities, catch a glimpse of the royal family or listen to the music while feasting in their local quarters. Thorin remembered that this natural formation in the depths of the Mountain was where all the largest festivities happened when his Grandfather, King Thrór, ruled. He himself did not expect to celebrate his royal wedding in these legendary chambers as well. After all, marriage had not been a part of his plans for the future.

Upon entering the Great Hall, it was difficult not to notice all the lavish adornments he remembered from the day before, countless tables filled anew with various dishes, lanterns and candles that cast their golden glow on the walls, brightening everyone’s faces — and the fact that all the eyes were now set on Thorin and his new royal consort. They were both clad in matching attires made especially for this occasion; every detail, pattern, and jewel on those black, silver, and gold garments was supposed to symbolise the imperishable beauty and opulence of the Kingdom Under the Mountain. Judging by the reactions of his subjects, the newly-wed royal couple made a favourable impression on them. 

Casting a sidelong glance at Lady Mista, Thorin expected to see the joyful or perhaps even triumphant smile of a new queen. Instead, he noticed the strained lines of her face, the paleness of her cheeks, and her bespectacled gaze set somewhere above the heads of the guests. Only the crown over her temples softened the solemn impression somewhat and lent her a regal air. Lady Mista’s palm rested stiffly on his forearm as Thorin led her through the chamber towards the royal table. He could feel how stiff her muscles were, as if she was a wooden doll controlled by an invisible puppeteer.

Thorin made an effort not to look at Lady Mista’s kin, who had already gathered at their side of the royal table. After what he experienced with the members of this family so far, it was not at all difficult to infer what face — or rather, faces — that puppeteer bore. 

That poor, terrified girl. His wife. The new Queen Under the Mountain.

“Our people are curious about you, My Lady,” he whispered just as they walked onto the stone dais where the royal table was placed.

“Oh?” Quickly, she turned towards him, her eyes wide. “About me?”

“They do not know you yet, and many of them are wondering what they can expect of you, their new Zabdûna,” he murmured, leaning slightly closer to her.

“Of… of course I will do my best to care for them,” she lowered her gaze and a blush darkened her cheeks. Then she added, “There is no Kingdom without its people.”

The last time Thorin heard those words, he was barely a youth, and his days were filled with endless studies and training. One of his Grandfather’s sayings — words of Dagur Sture, an ancient philosopher from Khazad-dûm — spoken in the trembling voice of a Broadbeam lady from the distant Khagal'abbad, the Blue Mountains. 

“Indeed,” he said, shaking off the surprise as they both turned towards the guests, an endless sea of faces before them . “Pray, show it to them, My Lady.”

“But how?” Lady Mista blinked, adjusting her spectacles on her nose. “I do not know what to do…”

“Simply greeting them will be enough,” Thorin attempted to say these words with an encouraging smile. “Acknowledge your new subjects.”

Lady Mista nodded slightly and swallowed, lifting her gaze upon the crowd. He felt her right hand tighten on his forearm, but then her left hand rose into the air, and she waved to the gathered crowd. An avalanche of cheers went through the cavern; some of the guests responded to her greeting in turn, their faces brightening.

Thorin chose this moment to greet the gathered Dwarves in the same fashion, enhancing their jubilation even further. All it took was a wave. A simple trick his Grandfather taught him a lifetime ago, but one that never failed.

When he glanced at Lady Mista’s face again, there was a new glint in her eyes and a timid smile on her lips as she took in the enthusiastic response to her gesture.

“They like you already, My Lady,” he whispered, nodding to her in approval and seeing her features finally soften when her lips curled up slightly. A welcome change, he thought. People needed to see their rulers glad, especially on such an occasion. Appearances mattered more than one’s true feelings; he had learned that bitter lesson well.

After the customary welcoming speech — Thorin somehow managed to keep it short — he led Lady Mista to their chairs at the centre of the table, and then the feast began. Soon, he found himself in a lively conversation with Glóin, Dwalin and Lord Taran, Lady Mista’s uncle, discussing the strategy applied in the siege of an Orc stronghold that happened during the Great War. Various pieces of golden tableware turned into numerous units of dwarven troops, a nearby platter with fruit acted as a mountain range, the octagonal brass salt cellar became the stronghold, and leftover pheasant bones served as Orcs.

“What a battle it was! We hadn’t slept for three days in a row!” Glóin announced as the culinary re-enactment of the battle came to an end. “When we were done with the Orc scum, Thorin looked every bit as tired as he looks now after one night with his bride!”

Thorin grunted.

“Aye, he does, but can ye imagine his state after three nights of storming her stronghold?” Dwalin roared with laughter.

Thorin glowered at his friend, who, in response, laughed even harder.

“With such a meek lass like our Mista, he doesn’t have much storming to do!” Lord Taran bellowed, the tattoos on his cheeks stretching in a wide grin.

Thorin clenched his fist. 

Dis threw him a meaningful glance from across the table. We will manage. Mahal, give him strength. Casting a fleeting look at Lady Mista, Thorin saw that she was deeply immersed in a conversation with Balin, who at that very moment patted her on her hand.

“May Your Majesty strike a gold vein quickly so we have a new reason to celebrate soon, a naming ceremony!” Lord Tair, the new Queen’s father, raised his goblet, meeting Thorin’s gaze. “May Mahal bless this union with many children!”

Other cups shot into the air, and the toast echoed across the hall, countless eyes set on the royal couple. Thorin gritted his teeth. This was not a purely well-meant wish, not in Tair’s mouth. The Broadbeam lord, who negotiated the marriage contract himself, alluded to its crucial clause: children from this union meant prosperity for both of their houses. On the other hand, no offspring by Thorin’s 200th birthday meant the dissolution of the marriage, the end of the vastly profitable trade agreements for the Broadbeams, and the end of the direct line of Durin for the Longbeards — and Thorin. The stakes were high for both houses.

Decidedly, Thorin grasped his own goblet and returned the gesture. A quick glance to his left told him that Lady Mista followed his lead, her fingers stiffly holding her goblet’s stem. He felt her eyes on him, but he found himself unable to reciprocate her gaze.

Another toast came after the first. This time, it was Dis wishing the newly-wed couple a long and happy marriage. A couple of toasts full of platitudes followed, and when everyone in the Great Hall drank their fill, conversations returned. Thorin’s sister was talking with Lady Mista now; he thought he heard them speak of a library when a sonorous voice reached his ears.

“Such a match happens once in a lifetime, Lord Balin, wouldn’t you say?” Lady Mista’s mother gave the older Dwarf a charming smile.

“As you say, Lady Milva. And it is a prosperous one, too,” Balin nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

“I am truly overjoyed that I had this idea! I told my husband: ‘Remember that winter feast we had in Tumunzahar, love? The one when Prince Thorin — for His Majesty was merely a prince then — danced only with my dear Mista?’ He only had eyes for her that night! So many mothers had fits of jealousy, because he did not even spare a glance for any of their daughters!” Lady Milva chuckled.

“That must have been quite an event,” Balin admitted. 

Thorin gritted his teeth, acutely feeling the weight of his crown on his head — and the eyes of his subjects on him. Instead of addressing a few curt words to Lady Mista’s mother, he took a large gulp of wine.

“So it was, Lord Balin, so it was! If you only had been there to see it!” She dabbed an invisible tear from her eye. “They danced, and danced, and afterwards my sweet daughter would sigh, and dream away, and ask if Prince Thorin would attend the next feast! So when the Lonely Mountain was finally reclaimed, I told my husband: ‘My love, if you are not going to send that marriage proposal to King Thorin, I am going to take her to Azsâlul'abad myself!’. And do you know what he said?”

Thorin’s old mentor declared, “I have not the slightest idea, My Lady.” 

Neither had Thorin. He refilled his goblet. Beside him, Dis asked Lady Mista a question he did not quite hear, but she received no answer. Lady Milva’s daughter, the new Zabdûna undu ‘Urd, sat unmoving, staring at her empty plate, her lips pressed into a thin line, while her relentless mother kept on talking. 

“Well, my dear Tair said ‘No need to do that, my dearest, for I have already sent the proposal!’. I swear, we act and think as one, is it not so, my lord husband?” Lady Milva turned to her spouse and loudly pecked his cheek.

“You speak the truth, my dove,” her husband replied, running his hand down his thick silver beard braid with clear contentment. “It was a great honour that His Majesty agreed to our offer this time!”

“Oh, hush, my gem, no need to bring that up, it happened such a long time ago,” Lady Milva waved her hand. “It is of no consequence now.”

“May I ask what you mean, My Lady?” Óin put his fork aside and brought his hearing trumpet to his ear. “Is there another layer to this charming love story?”

“Indeed, there is! I can tell you in confidence,” Lady Milva clapped her hands, leaning towards Óin, although Thorin noticed that she did not bother to lower her voice, “that we sent a marriage proposal to Thorinuldûm a few years later, but we were informed that King Thorin was not interested. I must admit that we made a grave error that day! You see, dear Lord Óin, we offered the hand of our daughter Adla in marriage instead of Mista! Therefore, it was not at all surprising that His Majesty was not interested. She was simply not the right daughter! The whole Blue Mountains wondered why he would not marry our Adla — for you must know that she is considered one of the greatest beauties of our clan — nor any other lady for one hundred years!”

“A true mystery indeed,” Óin agreed with a chuckle.

Thorin glared into his goblet. It was not a mystery to him. He clearly remembered the day the first proposal arrived. This missive from Tumunzahar came together with another letter from Gabilgathol, the city of the Firebeard Dwarves. The city he vowed never to return to. The memories he buried on the bottom of his mind, never to revisit. The eyes he would never look into again.

“...so when we sent our second offer,” Lady Milva placed her goblet on the table with a loud thud, “the answer came swiftly. And now — just look at these two, My Lord, and tell me this was not a match carved in stone.”

“May Mahal grant them happiness!” Óin said, lifting his goblet.

Lady Milva did the same, stood up and added loudly, “Let us drink for their long-awaited reunion! Will our royal lovebirds sweeten the toast with a kiss?”

“A kiss! A kiss!” Several voices from among the guests were heard at first, and then more and more of them joined in the chant. “King and Queen! King and Queen!”

What a viper, Thorin cursed inwardly. So that was her revenge. He should have seen it coming. At that moment, he could no longer pretend that he had not heard Lady Milva’s words. Neither had Lady Mista. Their gazes met; her spectacles slid slightly down her nose, uncovering a pair of brown eyes — wide open and terrified.

Thorin leaned towards her, whispering into her ear in order to be heard despite the continuous chanting.

“Forgive me, Lady Mista. This is not how I…” He paused, searching for the right words that did not seem to come. “I am afraid that we may need to make a little spectacle of ourselves, if you do not mind.”

“Kiss! Kiss!” The chanting grew louder, just like Lady Milva’s vicious smile, as people started clapping their hands, stamping their feet, and banging their goblets against the tables.

“I understand. I apologise for my mother.” She signed discreetly in Iglishmêk. Her fingers trembled when she added, “Let us turn it to our advantage and give our people the fairy tale they expect.”

Our people.

“Very well,” Thorin signed back, offering her his hand, palm up, and trying to empty his mind of all the importunate thoughts. With everyone in the Great Hall staring at them expectantly, they had to do it. There was no other way. Lady Mista took his hand, and it seemed to him that in that very moment, a spark of understanding passed between them. This was something they had to do together, something they were expected to do as the King and Queen Under the Mountain. A duty. Nothing more.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The guests continued to chant.

Thorin stood up, waiting for Lady Mista to gather her skirts and do the same. A moment later, they stood, arm in arm, before the gathered crowd, their hands joined. The continuous chanting echoed against the ceiling of the Great Hall when he turned to face her. Their gazes met; in the candlelight, her eyes looked like molten amber. The new Queen nodded almost imperceptibly, her fine hand gave his a little squeeze, and he could not stall any longer. Thorin lowered his face towards her and his nose bumped against hers,  so he tilted his head further, mindful of her spectacles, and let his lips gently brush against hers. 

Her breath hitched, and he carefully moved to press his lips against hers, and she must have stood up on her tiptoes because he met the softness of her lips much sooner than expected, and she smelled, or perhaps tasted, like an apple orchard, sweet and innocent, and—

An enthusiastic storm of cheers washed over the Mountain, drowning all the importunate thoughts of his for a long while.

To be continued...

✨ Chapter list: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4... ✨ Entangled Masterlist

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[qierxing]

yandere Corpse bride AU, where you're a undead person who died in their wedding attire and swore to be reunited with their spouse.

When Trey accidentally summons you after practicing his wedding vows to his fiance, he nearly faints when you stagger to your feet, covered in dirt and silk white tatters that barely cover flesh and bones. You happily accept the polished silver ring and trap him in a tight hug. It's much too late for him to get a word in while you babble about plans on whether the wedding venue should be decorated in white lilies or red roses. But he's too kind, and he can't find it in himself to squash the sparkling hope that lights your gaunt eyes, and so–

–he keeps quiet. His groomsman, an eccentric cat like gentleman who has a fondness of unsolvable riddles and mischief, merely grins widely when he hears Trey's conflicted explanation.

"The poor dear probably means no harm," he laughs and shrugs. "And if you help them, then they might be able to pass on."

Trey sincerely hopes so. From your overall look, it's clear that you've been dead for a good while, and although you refuse to talk about it, the gaping hole in your chest most likely meant that your death was not caused by natural means.

He comes to learn that you had planned to elope with your fiance, but somewhere along the way, you had perished waiting for them. Robbed of the meager gold coins you took to keep you and partner afloat, you were resigned to waiting for the day they would come back to your waiting arms.

He didn't plan on this. He thought it was just pity that kept him by your side, gently adjusting your limbs when they became askew from rot or making sure to fix your tattered wedding wear back to its original luster, with the help of an old teacher. No, it was not pity when he showed you how he baked cakes, watching with a soft smile as you admired wholeheartedly his frosting skills. It was not pity he felt when he let himself listen to you play elegant piano pieces, haunting melodies echoing off stone walls.

Somewhere, along the way, you had become endearing.

He doesn't think about the fiance who wonders where he must be, whose curiosity leads them to follow Trey to his meeting place with you. They are horrified, but most of all, outraged. How dare you take away their future partner? And that is indeed what they shout when they confront you when you're alone, shrieking about how you were a monster and taking someone else's husband away. Needless to say, you run from them in confusion and fear.

Is that really what you are? Just a heartless monster? The more you ponder upon it, the more you realize their words ring true as you try to search your memory of Trey agreeing to marry you. Anything that would have confirmed that he loved you. But it all comes up blank. There are no watery tears when you weep; but your ribs crack under the weight of your stuttering breaths, your lifeless body barely able to maintain your lively emotions.

And so, you decide to let go. Perhaps you can bear to love Trey, but you can't bear being the reason he couldn't love. When Trey comes to see you again, you quietly slip off the silver ring, still shiny and new, and hand it back to him. His face pales, worried confusion lacing his questions on if you changed your mind because of something he said? Were you mad at him for not staying longer with you the other day? You can only smile as he rambles on, and it's only when you clasp both his hands gently, he finally, finally, looks you in the eyes.

You apologize for everything: not asking him whether he wanted to even marry you, forcing him to spend time with you, making him acquiesce to your stubborn demands. It's a miracle you don't break down midway through.

There's a comforting pull when you laugh with tears in your eyes at Trey's horrified face. It's so soothing, there's barely any resistance, as pieces of you start flickering away, flesh finally rendering itself to dust, silk fluttering into petals that float away on the wind.

If you're lucky, you'll pass on before Trey grabs you in desperation, attempting to bring back dust and particles in hopes of making you stay. You can finally be free of your mortal coil and sorrows–even if you leave behind a man who spirals into madness and insanity. Cursed to roam the earth until he could find a way to join you in the afterlife and beyond.

–but if not, beware.

Death is not torture, it is repreive. Being forced to endure your flesh falling apart at the seams, while in the arms of someone who cannot see sense, is more agonizing than being able to accept your life and move on.

Yes, beware the man who has learned to love so fiercely, he's willing to defy nature's laws and whatever god is out there so you can remain his lovely spouse, for the rest of eternity.

[amaramizuki666]

identity crisis part.3

   ‘tim’ felt safe, he felt warmth surrounding him. he didn't understand, was he dead, he doesn't feel dead. ‘tim’ opened his eyes to find himself in a fluffy bed.

He sat up swiftly in a panic, his hand flying to his shoulder. 'Tim' hissed under his breath as he felt his bandaged up shoulder.

"Good your up" a guy around 'Tim's' age spoke as he walked into the room. 'Tim' snapped his attention to the guy. His eyes glowed Lazarus green and what should have been the whites where black, his skin a pale green, his hair snow white and wispy.

He had long pointed ears and sharp fangs. He was wearing a sorta black jumpsuit with a white D on the chest. He also had a cape that looked to be made of stars.

Above his head was a crown made of aroura and a ring of light on his middle finger. 'Tim' couldnt help but stare, the man before him was incredibly handsome. "Um where am I? Did I die? Who are you?" 'Tim' spoke. The man walked over to 'Tim's' bedside.

"Firstly your basically in the ghost equivalent of a hospital, two no your not dead, and three my name is phantom, but you can call me Danny if you wish" the guy-Danny says with a gentle smile. 'Tim looked him in the eyes "if I'm not dead then why am I in a ghost hospital?".

Danny let out an amused hum "well before I answer that can you tell me what you remeber?".

'Tim' tore his gaze away from Danny's, he is unsure if it's safe to say anything about himself or what happened.

Danny saw 'Tim's rejection to the question and sighed. "how about I tell you what I know" Danny says and sits on the bed.

'Tim's eyes drifted back to danny. "I found you in green glowing goo, with a bullet hole in your shoulder and a stab wound in your gut" danny says and 'tim' felt is body go rigid in realization.

'Tim' pushed himself slightly away from danny "how did you get my body from the Lazarus pits? I know I should have sunk to the bottom". Danny snorted "you summoned me that's how".

'Tim' tilted his head and arched his eyebrow "summoned? What do you mean? Whst are you?". 'Tim' couldnt help being inquisitive, he may not be the Tim but he still had his originals memories.

Danny smirked at 'Tim' flashing his fangs. The man grabbed 'Tim's' hand and brought it to his lips, laying a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

Danny's lips where cold, but not in an uncomfortable way, but in s way that felt pleasing. "Well my dear, let me properly introduce myself. I am danny phantom king of the infinity realms, the balance between life and death, and holder of the stars. And you summoned me with the offering of the blood of a hero and made a deal with me to save your life" danny says.

"Deal" 'tim' inquired. Danny smirked and leaned in close to 'tim' "yes in exchange for saveing your life you would be mine". 'Tim' leaned closer to danny till their noses touched "in what way am I yours".

Danny pulled back and tilted his head, far more than any human could. And smirked at tim flashing his fangs " in what ways do you want to be mine". 'Tim' laughed awkwardly and joked "when's the wedding". "In 3 days" Danny answered without hesitation.

'Tim' sputtered " I WAS JOKEING!!!" "I wasnt" Danny laughed. "Anyway love I never did get your name" Danny says proping himself on his elbow.

'Tim' wasnt sure how to answer. He wasnt Tim, it didnt feel right using his name. "Uh Drake" 'tim' stuttered.

Wait no, that's so stupid why would he say drake! But then again 'Tim's' original did go by 'the drake' at one point sooo mabey they both arnt very smart.

-----------------

Also feel free to add on your own stuff too, I love seeing people's stuff.

Part 2

[justallihere]

Do you sometimes have to let go of scenes that you like, just because you can’t fit them into storyline? If so, can you share some examples of “deleted scenes” from previous chapters with us?

Yes! I have a doc with 10k+ words of stuff that I cut. Most of the time it’s an alternate take on a scene, but there are a couple true “deleted scenes” as well. There are lots more than below but here are a few that have fairly coherent snippets.

Mira showing up to Basgiath before the wedding was originally quite different:

“I thought we had all learned our lesson about being places without a bodyguard.” Violet turned at the voice behind her. It was Garrick—she recognized his footsteps, his voice—but Bodhi was with him too, a silent shadow half a step behind. He inclined his head and offered Violet the barest hint of a smile. “Two of you to hunt me down?” she asked, looking between them. “I’m flattered.” “You’re deflecting,” Garrick said. She rolled her eyes. “I have plenty of protection.” She pointed across the flight field to the rocks, to the faint outline of a dark shape blending in against the outcropping and the shade beneath it. “There’s Andarna. Tairn is up there” —Another gesture to the mountains, where Violet knew he was hunting, though she couldn’t see him from where she stood— “and Sgaeyl and Xaden are right. . . there.” She smiled when they came into view above the college’s walls, but not at the reappearance of Sgaeyl and her rider. No, she was focused on the green dragon behind them, and the tall rider that sat astride him. As soon as Teine landed, Violet took off at a run. Mira met her halfway, ripping off her flight goggles as she went. They collided in the middle, nearly tumbling to the ground. “Hi,” Violet said, gripping her sister tight, her arms locked around her ribs. Mira cupped a hand around the back of her head protectively, the other curving around her shoulders. Violet could imagine the glare she was aiming at Xaden or Garrick or Bodhi or all three of them behind her. “You okay?” Violet nodded, tucking her head into her sister’s shoulder. “Violet?” Mira pressed. She took a breath that trembled a bit on the inhale. “Someone tried to kill me last week." Mira tensed, her embrace tightening. “And you took care of it?” Violet nodded again. “I took care of it." “Good.” Mira pulled back just enough to take Violet’s face into her hands and tilt her head up to meet her eyes. “I’m proud of you.”

I wrote a brief scene of Xaden and Violet interacting with a kid (the daughter of a staff member) the day before the coronation that was cute but didn’t make it in:

“Hi there,” Violet said softly to the little girl, crouching to be on her level. “I’m Violet. What’s your name?” “I’m Rosalie.” She looked from Violet to Xaden and back again, her expression curious. “My mommy says you’re our queen now.” “Well.” Violet smiled. “Tomorrow, actually. Once he gives me a pretty crown to wear.” She tilted her head toward Xaden. “Like your ring?” Rosalie reached out a curious hand, and Violet held her own up in return to let her touch the glittering gemstones on her left ring finger. Violet shrugged, holding still as the girl twisted her rings this way and that, apparently unbothered for someone who was typically so reluctant to have others in her space. Her position must have hurt, too, but she didn’t show it. “I haven’t seen it yet, so I don’t know if it will match. Ask him." Rosalie turned to Xaden expectantly. “Does her crown match her ring?” “Not quite,” he admitted. “She’ll still look beautiful in it, though.” “Did you marry her because she’s so pretty?” He crouched next to Violet and said conspiratorially, “I married her because she has the scariest dragon on the whole continent.” Rosalie’s eyes went wide. “You’re a dragon rider, too?” she asked Violet, who nodded. “My brother says girls don’t ride dragons. He says I’m too small.” “A lot of people told me I’m too small, too,” Violet admitted quietly. “But that doesn’t matter to them. If you’re strong and brave, you can ride a dragon.” “You must be really strong and brave,” Rosalie said in a whisper that wasn’t really a whisper at all. “A lot of people are scared of King Xaden more than they’re scared of dragons.” Violet laughed. “Are you scared of him? “No,” Rosalie said contemplatively. “He keeps us all safe.” Violet smiled, but it was tight-lipped. “Yeah. He does that for me, too.”

And I started writing a moment of Xaden and Violet feeling the effects of the bond with Sgaeyl and Tairn, but it got replaced in favor of the late-night kitchen talk in ch. 18:

Xaden woke in the middle of the night to movement beside him. He was only half-awake, but he was aware that his cock was achingly hard, and he was sweating, and there was a warm, soft body next to him. He rolled toward it instinctively, his fingers just touching skin that felt as feverish as his own. As soon as he made contact, they jerked away. “Fuck, don’t touch me right now,” Violet gasped, and his eyes finally opened all the way. “Shit.” He sat up in bed just in time to see her rolling out of it, her hair mussed from sleep, her movements unsteady. He lit one of the mage lights next to the bed without thought, trying desperately to ground himself and reinforce his shields. He watched as Violet squeezed her eyes shut, likely doing the same thing. In the low light, he could see the flush in her cheeks. She was wearing a thin slip, pale pink, and he could make out the shape of her body beneath it—the dip in her waist, the curve of her hip, the slope of her breast. He turned away from her, dragging in a deep breath. Fuck. This arousal, this desire, wasn’t his. It washed over him like a wave, threatening to drag him under. What he wouldn’t give to pull Violet in with him. He had imagined her so many times, the noises she would make, how she might taste on his tongue, the way she would feel coming on his cock. It was easy to imagine her again, draping her across his lap with her thighs spread wide so she could ride him until they were both satisfied. “Fix your godsdamned shields,” Violet hissed. He hadn’t even realized they were down and he was projecting his every thought to her. “Shit.” He put them back in place rapidly, and the lines of her face relaxed, just a little. “Tell me you have something to smoke,” she begged. They needed to do something. They couldn’t be together with a bed between them. “No, but I know who does.”

[toomuchracket]

had a dream of me and d word matty getting married 😩

there's a little blurb about it already, you and matty (and the babies) just deciding one morning to get married as soon as possible, rather than having a more elaborate wedding as you'd originally talked about, but let's talk in more detail. legally, you have to give 28 days' notice to a registry office if you wanna get married there in england, and you and matty think that a small wedding ceremony there and then like a nice dinner with your closest people is the move; that's good, because it gives a teeny bit of time to get things arranged lmfao. you let matty handle sorting the afterparty (he insists on calling it that) and his and alex's outfits (him toddling around in a little suit AWWW), and thanks to charli you manage to get an in with vivienne westwood to get the wedding dress you've genuinely wanted since you were seventeen - it's actually patti who sources a gorgeous vintage dress and gets it altered for lyla to wear on the day, and she LOVES it lol. your ring is vintage, too, a dainty band inset with stones that goes perfectly with the engagement ring matty had made for you, one you saw in the window of a jewellers in london and went nonverbal looking at lmao; matty thought you were still walking and had to turn back to get you like "baby what are you looking... OH. that's it, isn't it? it's yours", and he bought it then and there after dragging you into the shop hand-first to talk to the saleswoman like "hi hello please can we have the ring in the window look at her engagement ring it would match so well" lmfao. his ring is really simple, just a silver band from the same shop that has celtic markings on the inside, which he got weirdly emotional about in the way that people with irish heritage always seem to do lol. anyway! there's no time for elaborate hen and stag dos, which george is lowkey aghast about because he's "been planning this since we were fifteen, mate" lol, but the night before the wedding you and lyla go to stay with auntie charli and mrs mac and eilidh and some of your girls and the boys all stay at yours with matty and alex, so you have little respective parties then - matty phones at like midnight to a) check on lyla and tell you alex is fine and b) gleefully be like "we're getting married today, darling. can't wait", and you wake up to a flower delivery with an adorable message (and sneak one of the flowers into your bouquet). lyla naps on you while you're getting hair and makeup done lol, but she perks up when it's time to dress up (matty's daughter fr) and manages to steal the spotlight from you at your own bloody wedding by tearing down the aisle ahead of you to give her dad and brother a hug lmao, which is actually kinda good because matty absolutely cries when he sees you and the babies are both there to cuddle him better, bless them. he's teary through the vows, though, and so are you, looking at him all beautiful and in love with you, and the kiss when you officially become husband and wife... The kiss ever. he won't stop lifting your hand to look at the ring the whole rest of the day, whether you're taking pics or chatting to friends or eating dinner, he's just so in awe that you're his WIFE. god, he loves you so much. a perfect day, really <3

[littlemsnerd]

I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT THESE PHOTOS

These family photos come directly from the Hazbin Hotel Instagram and Twitter accounts, and are in universe cannon photos.

The most recent photo, featuring Charlie seated, appears to be taken in the hotel parlor. It's very possible the fireplace in the original hotel was inspired by something in the Morningstar family home, but if you look at the parlor Hazbin Hotel card, the fire places are identical.

This photo has to at least be 7 years old, as we know that's the last time Charlie spoke to her mom, but I'd wager it's older as Charlie looks to be somewhere in her mid-teens (post her emo phase haha). So when did the hotel itself first come into the picture?

We know Charlie and Lucifer weren't close, and we can assume Lilith kept them separated based on "More Than Anything", but we don't know exactly when.

Previously, I had assumed Lilith kept Charlie from her dad due to Lucifer's clear spiraling. He admits he's depressed directly, and it comes from losing his hope. He's spent centuries only seeing the worst choices humanity made with free will, and where Lilith thrived and found independence, she watched the man she loved lose his mind, inspiration and motivation. And it's very clear Charlie takes after her dad as a dreamer. So rather than risk Charlie losing her inspiration, Lilith kept her at a distance.

While we can't see Lucifers whole left hand, we do know in the show he still wears his wedding ring throughout the series. But we do see Lilith's left hand, and it is ring free. They are clearly separated but posing for an official portrait as they remain the king and queen of hell, the photo having been captioned "The first family of hell."

Compare the official family portrait where Charlie is a teen with the photos in Lucifer's office. While we cant see their left hands in the first photo, in the second photo, we see both Lucifer and Lilith wearing their rings, clearly happy together with a very young Charlie, everyone holding onto each other. And while we can't see their rings in the 1st photo, they both clearly appear happy, holding their daughter closely between them.

We can guess this is around the same age Charlie was in her memories during "More Than Anything", which makes it more complicated. What changed from these photos to that memory??

I keep trying to understand how it went from below, loving, goofy, more in line with the relationship dynamics Vivzie had originally described to where we are. In which Lilith has supposedly abandoned not just her kingdom, but her daughter, and has been in heaven for 7 years.

ESPECIALLY because these 2 photos are captioned "The devil really is in the details."

[justenjoythegossip]

TO WEAR OR NOT TO WEAR THE RING, THAT IS THE QUESTION…

Recap of the recent events regarding Chris and Abba’s (not wearing their) wedding rings…

This past week-end, some mods were sent exclusive pics of Chris coming out of a gym in LA. Of course, the point was to show him not wearing his precious ring since the first pic that was leaked was the one where his left hand was very visible. And when people questioned whether it was really Chris in that pic or not, they posted another picture of him in the dark that looked a lot more like him but the left hand was visibly absent because inside his pocket… 

But wait! There is a twist. Was it Chris? Was it his fake evil twin? No, that was Chris’ real doppelganger. Some people have speculated that it was just a case of mistaken identity. I personal had serious doubts but after today’s events, I am pretty sure it was NOT an honest mistake. The point was to stir up trouble. Because when it comes to this shitshow, I don’t believe in coincidences. And today, a friend of Abba posted a video of them during their ski trip in France when you can clearly see her without her wedding ring. We all are glad Abba is getting some much needed fresh air. After all it must be really hard to be stuck in a basement, even where you are a Nazi. 

But the timing is not coincidental. So the question is: does it mean that Chris and Abba are over? I am afraid it does not. 

The wearing of rings (or not) was a futile discussion in the first place…

First of all, not wearing a ring doesn’t mean you are not married. In fact there are all sorts of reasons why certain married people choose not to wear their wedding rings. For example, people who need to wash their hands constantly for their job, such as surgeons or other medical workers. People who do manual work might not wear their ring because they don’t want to scratch it. People might be bloated because of water retention… I could go on and on and on… But the opposite is true as well, you can wear a wedding ring and actually not be married at all. It’s not like it’s a huge imposition to wear one. Especially if you don’t mind making a mockery of the institution because nothing is sacred to you… So in the grand scheme of things, wearing or not wearing a wedding ring doesn’t say anything regarding your marital status. 

And regarding Chris and Abba specifically, their teams would have been fools not to exploit this topic to feed the discourse and indeed they have used it and have gotten maximum impact for so minimum effort…

What purposes did the ring discussion serve? 

I don’t know where the ring discussion originated from but I strongly suspect it came from certain Team PR/Team Real blogs who are trolls/plants working for their teams. And indeed that topic was heavily discussed months before the kinda weddings and was used to feed the discourse between the 2 opposing rival clans. Those mods created an entire narrative connecting the legitimacy of Chris & Abba’s “relationship” to the wearing of the rings. And it’s true, the ring is a powerful symbol in itself but it has become an even more powerful symbol in this shitshow. 

Do people remember the Bermuda trip? There was a picture of Dustbin and Abba with her left hand visibly cropped from the pic. Mods started to speculate that her hand was cropped because she was not wearing an engagement ring. Other mods speculated that she was wearing an engagement ring but the hand was cropped because they wanted to keep the wedding a secret. Because you know, they are so private (LOL)… Later Dustbin leaked the uncropped pic and Abba was visibly not wearing an engagement ring. But the point was to have people talk about it. To sell this shitshow and to feed the discourse at the same time. And there are many other examples I could have used that show the exact same patterns. And to this day, the ring topic is still heavily discussed. Does Chris show it ostentatiously because he needs to sell the PR? Does he hide it because it’s fake and he is ashamed? Oh but the ring is too big and too loose, it can’t be real because if it was he would have fixed it by now… etc

Another purpose that served the ring was obviously to promote an infamous jewelry brand. By no coincidence, Chris was wearing a watch by the same brand at the NY con to announce his weddings. And wasn’t it the same watch his character was wearing in the movie The Gray Man? It was definitely the same watch he was flashing so ostentatiously during his interview on the View, which was sponsored by Jinx… So many brand deals, right? 

And obviously I don’t need to mention Abba’s little stunt at the GQ event in Portugal. We know for an absolute fact she went there to flash the ring and to promote the jewelry brand so that a trillion articles about it could be published and shoved down our throats. And this is obvious because the event took place during Thanksgiving’s week-end, the favorite holiday of her new “kind of” hubby. Also she “rudely” refused to speak to the media. She was likely not allowed to speak in public because their teams were probably worried she would blurt out Heil Hitler before stripping as a distraction but the point is she only had one job to do…

Another purpose the ring served and still serves is to enable Chris to do the bare minimum. Indeed by his own words, Chris is pretty lazy and he has done the bare minimum to sell this shitshow. So wearing a ring and flashing his left hand instead of his right hand during an interview during a con or on TV seems like an imposition he could tolerate. Go Portugal!

The rings and the ending of the shitshow…

Obviously, I don’t need to say that once the shitshow is over, they will be seen without their rings. However them not wearing their rings does not mean it’s over just yet. Especially since those sightings were not destined to the general public. At this point, it just means that they are both thirsty, hungry and desperate for attention and their greedy manipulative teams want to milk this for as much as they can. 

[bullet-prooflove]

For Better, For Worse - Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x Reader

Tagging: @aaronhtchnrs @my-secret-shame @mysoulisasunflower @kabloswrld @xoxabs88xox @mydarkestsecretlol @whoreforhondo @crazy4chickennuggets @justreblogginfics @witches-unruly-heart @infinity-mars @pimosworld @vannabanana1995 @julieelliewrites @queeniesdiary @est1887 @lilvampirina @creativitybeware @genius2050 @mortal--soul @spookyboogyuniverse @ritasantosworld @corruptedcoffin @anime-weeb-4-life @nu1freakshow @lyly00 @oureternalbond @the-wandering-lunatic @thebaileybugle @@the-person-in-the-circle

The bar was too crowded for Santi's taste, he hadn't expected so many people to come into a dive like this but it turned out liquid lunch was more than just a metaphor in Florida. He had some time to kill after what had gone down in Tom's house, he needed a drink to tide him over.

Then another drink for Tom’s daughter and then a third to forget how much he was missing you. Of course, he then had a beer to chase down the bourbon. He doesn't like not being in control of himself and he knows that the current turbulence in his life is having a worse effect on him than he had originally suspected.

His jacket's resting on the barstool to his right. The old Santi would have been more than drunk by now, he'd also have been hitting on the woman next to him, the one in the short skirt sucking the cherry off her cocktail stick.

"Hey there sugar," she drawls as he takes a swig of his beer.

Her curious gaze strays to his left hand, coming to rest on his empty ring finger.

"No ring?" she queries.

Santi sets down his beer bottle, that charming smile spreading across his handsome features as he shakes his head at her words. It doesn't matter to this woman whether he's wearing a wedding ring or not, it was just a starting point to a conversation that would eventually lead back to some low rent motel room.

"You know a year or two ago I probably would have gone for a girl like you." Santi says, giving her the once over as he catalogues her assets the way he would have back then.

Breasts pushed up and on display in that white, skin tight top she was wearing. Her face made up as if she's spending Friday night on the town, plump, glossy red lips and thick black eyeliner that made her jade green eyes stand out. She's every man's wet dream in this tiny shithole of a bar.

"What about now?" The blond purrs as she gives his physique an appreciative glance. "I could certainly go for a guy like you."

There's such lust in her eyes, pure unadulterated desire was vibrating through her flesh and Santi finds himself repulsed. Before you, this woman would have been exactly what he wanted. A quick fuck in a motel room, an itch to scratch or a frustration to vent, now she's simply a distraction. An unwelcome one.

"Sorry, not my type." Santi informs her, draining the last of his beer and setting the bottle back on the bar.

"Playing hard to get sugar?" she asks him, fluttering those pretty long lashes. "I think I can do a little something for that stress you seem to be under."

Her hand rubs up and down his bare arm, sending the hairs on his arms prickling with apprehension as her manicured talons rake his skin.

Shit, Santi used to be exactly like this woman, prowling in bars for someone to spend the night with. Anything to quench the loneliness inside that had been eating him up. There had been many women during his life and then he met you, and there was just you, only you.

The blonds waiting, and Santi doesn't remembered being this insistent, if one girlbturned him down, he would move onto another more willing participant to fulfil his vices. She's still talking, her tone low and suggestive. He hadn't heard a single word she's said.

He snorts rudely at the blonde's words as they register. She's got a room not far here, she could teach him a thing or two. He raises to his feet and slinging his jacket over his right shoulder.

It occures to Santi that he doesn't like walking around unclaimed. He's felt this agitation building over the past few days and it's growing worse and worse as his dark mood sets in.

He knows he's an intolerable son of a bitch when he gets like this and he hates bringing it home to you.

Santi isn't sure if it's a conscious decision or not but he ends up standing inside a discreet jewellery store in the heart of Tallahassee. When he finally manages to pull himself out of his furious thoughts he finds himself jabbing his finger at a small array of engagement rings that were cushioned in royal blue velvet fixtures.

"That one." Santi hears himself saying as he taps the glass. "That's the one."

He feels it with every ounce of his being as he watches the sales assistant remove the ring from it's plush surroundings. There's something that connects him to this tiny, gorgeous platinum circlet. He thinks it had something to do with the three small diamonds that shine like tiny stars, glittering in the light.

They remind him of when he tilted his head up towards the night sky in the Andes, his arms crossed over his chest as he thought of you and the life he was trying to build. He finds himself smiling as he studies the ring between his calloused fingers. 

Home, he thinks when he looks at it.

You're his home. Already Santi can see so many of your memories etched into it platinum. The very first kiss he had stolen from you against a pool table. That time you'd made love to him in the backseat of his truck because you just couldn’t wait.

There were more, so many more and they ran through his head like a series of video clips as he clasps this ring between his fingertips. There was a lifetime in this ring, he can feel it pulsating through him as he holds it in his hand. He wants you to know how he feels when you look at this ring, to never doubt him no matter what the distance was between you.

"Can you include an inscription?" Santi requests as he set the ring down and withdraws his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

"Of course, what would you like it to say?" The sales assistant responds brightly as Santi handed over his credit card.

Santi thinksof what the two of you have been through. So many obstacles had stood in the way because of circumstance, other people and yourselves. No matter what happened you were always there for him, come hell or high water.

"For better, for worse."

Love Santi? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Apocalypse!AU -- Reunion

Synopsis: Separated from his family after a coup destroyed their old settlement, Jacob spends three long months trying to find them again and bring them home, if they're still alive.

06/03/2024: I feel so bad for writing this years ago and then not posting. However, I'm glad I did, because I could read through it and see how sparse it actually was. I like this piece a lot and want to share it with you guys (proof I'm writing again! Spread the word!! Reblog!). This can be read as a standalone but there is other Apocalypse!AU content HERE, HERE, and HERE if you liked this one. It could be better, but I need sleep and a croissant (hello, priorities), and I just wanted to get something out there. Tell me what you think/if you want more/less/or you like the surprises. I surprise even myself, currently. Feedback is cool, too! Very big fan of feedback. Anyway, here you go!

Warnings: Violence, blood mention

[This is an F!Reader fic]

Word count: 3.2k (not bad, not bad)

The Complete Masterlist

----

Rubbing his eyes, Jacob crossed off another town on his map, leaning over the wooden table in his room. They were kind enough to give him a three bedroom house to reside in, despite having two and a half beds neatly made but untouched. On two of them sat a few different stuffed animals; some new, some familiar. Lily would always share her stuffed animals with Emmett, despite the older brother acting as if he didn’t need the comfort.

He stood up straight and took a sip of his now cold coffee. The mug was sat down amongst a handful of others, showing the true extent of his exhaustion. His return from an overnight supply run with Edward and Arno barely reaped any useful resources, save for some vehicle parts. No sign of anyone camping around. No sign of his family.

A knock at his front door pulled him out of his thoughts. “It’s open!” he called, sniffing to compose himself.

“Jacob?” Evie’s voice rang throughout the hallway, a thread of worry lacing her tone.

“Upstairs!” He chose to quickly knock back the rest of his coffee.

“Jacob, when was the last time you cleaned? Your living room looks like a minefield.”

“I haven’t had the time.”

Evie leaned against the doorway, concern on her features. “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

“I’ll rest after we… after…” He sighed. “Later. I’ll rest later.”

The older Frye twin glanced at the table -- at the map decorated with countless crosses, the coffee mugs with their corresponding ring stains. She began to gather them.

“You don’t have to--” Jacob began.

“I was talking to Altair and Kassandra. You’re going on another supply run?” She was quite to cut him off, leaving him momentarily stunned.

“Yeah, this afternoon. And you’re going on an overnight patrol.” Evie raised a brow at that. “I checked the rota.”

“You’re not going on the run.”

Jacob scoffed. “Says who?”

“Says everyone. You’re wearing yourself out -- killing yourself. And for what?”

“For them, Evie!” He was surprised at how quickly his temper flared. “Sorry.” His voice calmed immediately, returning to its original, tired state. “It was my fault in the first place.” Carding his fingers through his hair, he sighed. “I should have protected them.”

Evie’s heart stung at her brother’s demeanour. She glanced at the wedding band on Jacob’s finger, a sole reminder of their shared family. “Altair and Kassandra won’t go with you. They can handle being a man down while said man rests.” She put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly. “There’s no point lamenting the past; It wasn’t your fault, Jacob. We’ll get them back. Go to bed.”

“But--”

Evie gave him a look, shutting him up instantly. “Bed. Now.” She followed his gaze towards the front door. “I’ll lock it when I leave.”

Jacob watched her leave his room, leaving his door slightly ajar. Standing up, he almost tripped over his chair. He moved to his bed, where a T shirt and pyjama bottoms sat. He has been working nonstop for days, and only now realised that he barely had time to look after himself. He never changed out of his overnight patrol gear, mud-encrusted and uncomfortable. A shower would be a smart option, and one he forced himself to take.

Evie was still downstairs as Jacob emerged from the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. His movements were less than lackluster, seeming to constantly be on the verge of giving up.

Perhaps a few hours of rest would do him some good.

He climbed into his bed for the first time in half a week, and listened to the ambient kitchen noises Evie made. Closing his eyes, Jacob tried to imagine someone else making that noise, but the movements were never quite the same. He pulled his pillow tight against him, closing his eyes. A tear still managed to escape, but Jacob had passed out before it had time to hit the pillow.

Altair and Kassandra dove for cover behind a car. “How are there so many hunters?!” She yelled.

“I don’t know! Just keep shooting!”

“Kill all three of them!” The leader of the group — standing at least ten hunters strong — commanded from across the street.

Altair and Kassandra exchanged glances, confused at the instructions. “Who else is here…?” Altair questioned, and was swiftly answered when gunshots rang out in front of them. Altair flinched against the car, trying to stay protected as he worked out what was going on. He spotted the third person the hunter was talking about fleeing towards an abandoned house, a hand pressed against her stomach. She dove inside and slammed the door shut.

“I suppose we found our answer,” Kassandra said.

“We should kill them all. We cannot let them get to that house.”

“Do you know her?” Kassandra asked, concern beginning to grow for this person.

Altair stood up and fired five shots before ducking again. “No, but she looks extremely familiar.”

That seemed to be enough for Kassandra, and she began to quickly eliminate the remaining five targets with a striking accuracy, likely fuelled by adrenaline and protectiveness. A few moments later, and they were all down.

“We should check if she’s alright. She looked injured,” Altair said, holstering his gun before jogging up to the door and knocking firmly. “Hello?! Are you alright? We want to help you! Are you hurt?”

No response.

He knocked again. “My name is Altair! This is Kassandra! We live in a settlement not too far from here. We have first aid and supplies! We can help you!”

Again, nothing.

“I’m kicking down the door! Please don’t shoot me…” and with that, Altair broke the lock on the door by booting it open. It was clear to see immediately that she had hidden upstairs, shown by the worrying trail of blood she left in her wake.

“Hello?” Altair became nervous; no response after an injury usually didn’t bode well for the injured. They followed the trail, Altair climbing each step purposely but with caution, eyes observing everything from the cracked yellow paint along the wall to the bloodstained bannister.

At the top of the stairs, the trail led into a closed door. He tested the handle; locked. He knocked politely. “Miss? We just want to help you. I’m coming in, alright?”

There were murmurings on the other side of the door, and Altair did the most efficient thing he could think of.

He kicked down the door.

Splinters flew, startled screams sounded out, and his hands automatically came up in surrender as he stood at gunpoint. The woman in question was lying prone on the floor, one hand around her crimson-stained stomach, and the other holding a shaking gun. “Don’t move.”

“We can get you help.” He persuaded calmly. “I can help you; I’m a medic.”

“What faction are you with?”

Kassandra mirrored Altair’s movements. “We didn’t know there were any factions.”

“You don’t dress like cultists… who are you?”

“We’re just survivors. Same as you.” Altair looked around, surprised to see two small figures crouching beside each other in the corner. “You’re protecting your children, we understand, but let us take you to our settlement. We have better medical equipment than here, and it’s safe there.”

“Survivors…” you let your arm with the firearm drop, hitting the wood with a thud. “Why are you here?”

“We’re searching for supplies.” Altair furrowed his brows in thought. That wasn’t the only reason they were out here. He glanced at the two children; one boy and one girl. “Where’s the father?”

“We got separated about three months back. I don’t know if…” she paused. “If he’s still alive.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jacob.”

“Jacob Frye?”

Your eyes lit up through the prevalent exhaustion. “Yes! That’s him. He’s alive? What about Evie?”

Altair rushed to your side, snapped out of his frozen state. “He’s been looking for you since you were separated. It must’ve been fated that the one time we told him to rest was the time where we found you.” He cradled the back of your head. “Lie back. Evie’s fine as well; she’s on an overnight patrol.”

You relaxed slightly, distracted by Kassandra introducing herself to your children. “You both look so much like your parents; I’m your pater’s friend. What are your names?”

“I’m Emmett!” Despite the situation, word about his father’s whereabouts must have excited him. “This is my little sister, Lily.” He grabbed her shoulders and stood behind her, wrapping her in a comforting hug. Lily held onto Emmett’s hands, looking away from Kassandra. “Is it true?! You know our father?”

Altair took some gauze and medical tape out of his backpack, beginning to pack and dress the wound. You bit your cheek to hide the pain from Emmett and Lily. “I can’t do much here without a needle and thread, but we have what we need at the settlement.” He wiped his hands on his shirt. “We need to go, now.” He wrapped your arm over his shoulders and heaved you to your feet. “Kassandra, get to the horses.” She nodded, and took the children by the hands, leaving the room first. You and Altair followed soon after.

Your knees kept buckling every few steps on the way to the front door, causing Altair to adjust accordingly. “Jacob will not be happy with us when we return with you in this state.”

You chuckled, a weariness to your tone. “I can imagine. That man has a tendency to overreact.”

“We’ll just have to beg for forgiveness this time around.”

As you and Altair limped out of the front door, Kassandra had rushed to bring the horses closer, the children both mounted on one of them already. “Okay, ready?” Altair asked, before hoisting you as best he could onto his horse, mounting behind you. Kassandra held both children in front of her, holding them tightly.

“Will Mama be okay?”

“She’ll be fine, little ones,” Kassandra comforted, though an uneasy smile rested on her face as she assessed the blood staining her friend’s hands.

“Stay as still as you can,” you told them, slumping heavily against Altair’s chest.

He urged his horse to turn back the way they came, kicking her into a gallop — sprinting as fast as she could go. Kassandra wasn’t far behind.

——

Upon arriving at the settlement, your pulse had slowed down tremendously. Your bandage (and Altair’s shirt) was almost drenched in blood, and you were slipping in and out of consciousness. Altair skidded his horse to a stop and slid off, taking you with him. He adjusted you up in his arms and carried you hurriedly into the infirmary. “Help! I need help!” A few doctors came out, and upon seeing the amount of blood, dove into action, taking you out of his arms. He looked down at himself, at the crimson soaking the cotton of his shirt, at the dried blood on his skin. A wave of nausea threatened to overcome him.

Gathering himself, he turned to move into the porch of the infirmary building, where Kassandra and the children were waiting, confused and distressed. “I’m getting Jacob,” he told her, sprinting towards the bar. It was the only place the group usually frequented; no doubt the familiarity would be a subconscious coping mechanism. The sun had dipped low under the horizon, chilling the air. Altair didn’t feel cold.

He slammed the door open with his shoulder, slamming it against the wall. The entire room fell into silence, eyes shooting to the scene. Jacob sat on a barstool, a glass of whiskey in front of him. He also snapped his gaze to Altair while pocketing his wallet.

The look on his friend’s face told him everything.

They’re here. We found them.

The blood all over him told him something else, and his blood turned to ice. “Oh, Christ.” Jacob flew off of his stool, running faster than he thought possible behind Altair.

Who was hurt? How bad is it? Are they…?

They sprinted across the street in what can only be described as the longest ten seconds of his life. Reaching the front door of the infirmary, Altair let Jacob overtake him as he threw open the porch door.

He fell to his knees when he saw his children again. “Oh…”

They ran into his arms, and he embraced them tightly. “Are you both alright? Are you hurt?” He pulled away, voice cracking with worry, even as he tried to hide it.

“No.” Emmett said, tears in his eyes. He flung his arms around his father’s neck.

Lily’s had already started falling. “I was so scared,” she whispered, clinging to his shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. You’re alright. My gorgeous girl.” He wiped her tears and kissed her forehead, bringing her back into him. “My beautiful boy.” Emmett held him tighter. He never thought he would savour this moment again, holding his children in his arms. Waiting for a moment, he steeled himself. If neither of his children were hurt, that left one possible heartbreak.

He pulled away after a few moments. “I need to check on Mum. You two need to stay here, alright? Stay with my friends, while I go inside. I’ll be back in a minute.” He could tell that they didn’t want him to disappear so quickly, but they nodded anyway. Kassandra took them to a small play area in the corner.

Jacob moved to knock harshly on the door. “Hey! Open up! I need to see my wife!”

The door unlocked rather quickly, the doctor perhaps intimidated by the possibilities of Jacob’s tone. He barged in, freezing at the sight before him; you lying in a hospital bed, your skin tone sickened, your eyes closed. a couple of doctors busied around your wound and were checking your vitals. Two trolleys sat beside them; one of clean bandages and medical equipment, and the other held bloodstained fabric.

Jacob’s stomach dropped, filling with lead. “No…”

Rushing to the bedside, he caressed your head with one hand, and grasped your own with the other. “Y/n, God…” He didn’t need to compose himself anymore, tears spilling down his cheeks in both worry and relief. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, sosorry.”

Semi-lucid, you feebly squeezed his hand. “I found you.”

He laughed, tears brimming in his eyes. “You did.” The light mood was quickly dissipated by the way you were blinking. Slow, fatigued eyes staring slightly out of focus. “Who did this to you?” Anger bled through his gritted teeth.

“They’re dead, Jacob. Don’t chase headless chickens.”

He sighed and couldn’t help but smile at your familiar phrases. A whirlpool of emotions overwhelmed him, constantly switching between anger, devastation, and relief.

He looked up to one of the doctors. “Is she going to be okay?” His thumb caressed your cheekbone.

The doctor kept looking between you and Jacob. “We’ll take care of her.” He walked away quickly, as if fetching something.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?!” He began to sit up, worried, but you pulled on his hand.

“Don’t, Jacob. Let him go.” Frowning, he instead pulled up a chair to sit beside your bed.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you sooner.” His elbows rested on the mattress, his hands enveloping yours, pressed against his forehead. “I never should have stopped.”

You brushed the tousled hair out of his eyes, smiling at his loving gaze. Concerned and guilty, but loving.

“From what I heard, you were working yourself to death. I’m glad you weren’t there; you would have panicked.”

“But… I could have prevented this.” His lips pressed against your knuckles; a constant kiss.

“You don’t know that. I’ll be fine here, but our children need somewhere to sleep and bathe.” You studied his features, keeping to yourself concerns about his own health. His eyes looked sunken, and if it wasn’t for Evie’s presence you would have been certain that he wouldn’t be eating either.

“I can’t just leave you here.” He breathed a tone of fatigued defiance.

You scoffed playfully. “I’m in the safest place in the world. Literally.”

“But what if—“

“Shhh.” You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles soothingly. “Nothing will happen. It won’t happen.”

He geared himself to leave, but paused at the last moment. Turning to you again, he opened his mouth to say something, but a tearful scoff came out instead. “I thought… I thought I’d never see my family again.” He grasped your hand tighter. “Now that you’re here, I don’t want to let you go again.”

You wiped a tear from his cheek. “We’re not going anywhere. I promise.” A wall of fatigue overcame you, and you found your eyes fluttering closed.

“Y/n?” You hummed, feeling your husband’s hand on your cheek.

“I’m resting, Jacob. I’m okay.”

He sighed, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Sleep well, my love.”

——

“Hey, have any of you seen Jacob?”

Evie found her way into the bar in the morning, having just returned from her overnight patrol. The entire squad had bagged the biggest booth that morning, conversing in relieved and content murmurs. She eyed them suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

Altair regarded her with the most emotion she’d ever seen him wear. “Go find out. He’s in the infirmary.”

“What?!” She turned on her heel and ran. What trap did he fall into this time?

She opened the infirmary door, expecting Jacob to be bandaged up and drugged on morphine (which happened more often than she would like). “Oh my God.”

Jacob was sat in a chair at your bedside, chuckling quietly at one of Emmett’s stories, his actions and facial expressions entrancing Jacob fully as he sat cross legged on the bed. Lily was playing with his hair in his lap. He held her tightly in one hand and held your hand with the other. The children snapped up at the sound of her voice.

“Aunt Evie!”

She dropped to her knees as they bolted towards her. Laughing, she kissed their heads multiple times as they collided into her arms. “Oh my God; you’re here! I missed you both so much!” She couldn’t help tears of joy breaking through. “Don’t cry, Aunt Evie,” Emmett said sadly, wiping her tears.

“They’re tears of joy, darling. I’m so happy you’re safe.”

“They’re tears of pain, really; you naughty rascals are going to drive her up the wall.”

They groaned at their father’s jokes. “No, we drive her down the wall; you’re the one who drives her up it.” Jacob was impressively stunned at Lily’s comeback, while you and Evie laughed. Suddenly, you winced, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

Jacob’s attention was on you in an instant. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I’m okay. I laughed too hard.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Jacob raised a suspicious brow.

“I promise I’m okay.”

Seemingly satisfied, Jacob smiled softly before leaning down to kiss you ever so gently, as if you were made of porcelain. You couldn’t help but smile back; he radiated so much joy and love in this moment, it was impossible to ignore.

Emmett groaned at your and Jacob’s act. “Aunt Evie, get us out of here!”

[a-strange-inkling]

If anyone would like a little jealous Eddie to go along with their plate of jealous Chrissy, here’s a little more of the jealousy one shot:

He knows with every fiber of his being that loving Christina Elizabeth Munson née Cunningham is the single greatest most difficult thing he will ever do in this life.

But she loved someone else first.

What were his past conquests? Why were they a cause of concern. She loved Carver. She was with him for three years.

Three years.

They haven’t even been freaking married for three years.

She was going to marry him.

Not like just move in with him at college or something no, fucking marry him. White dress, spring wedding at Olde North Chapel the next year. He had a ring for her. Chrissy had seen it herself, snuck a peek after her friends told her about it, where it was hidden in his dresser.

Eddie wondered if she pulled it out of the box. Tried it on. He could never bring himself to ask.

He takes her hand and finds his ring, the one he made her in his shitty garage. The one she’s wearing now. The one she accepted. The one she vowed to wear forever. He spins it around her finger, unable to forget that sweet, personal conversation he shouldn’t have heard her junior year when he was a second year senior.

It was a typical day… He’d been smoking with Jeff and Donnie after school in the back of his van when Jason Carver rode into Hawkins High on a motorcycle of all things. The deep revving of the engine was so rich and condescending that everyone had to look. Even he and the boys were unable to stop themselves from peering over as Carver did a full turn around the parking lot, doing a few wheelies before pulling up to the curb around the gym where the cheerleaders were just coming out after practice.

They all gasped and squealed in delight at the show.

All except Chrissy who stood stock still in the center of her squad, gaping in amazement and disbelief. They were all shaking her arm and pointing. Like, oh my God, look Chrissy! Look at your boyfriend! He’s on a motorcycle! Isn’t he just like the dreamiest ever?

Jason pulled off his helmet, gracing the world with his golden head of tousled hair, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight like Robert Redford. His eyes twinkled at Chrissy, grinning at her while she just stood there, too flabbergasted to move. The engine revved down so he could properly beckon her over.

“Surprise.”

“Oh my God!” she cried, shaking herself out of her stunned state as she bounded up to him, ponytail swishing back forth across her shoulders. Jason swung his leg over the seat, standing with the bravado of a man who knew for a fact he was getting laid that night, wrapping an arm around her. “Oh my God! Oh my God!”

“Oh my God… please don’t tell me that’s a Sturgis. It sounds like a Sturgis.” Donnie whined beside Eddie, covering his eyes, unable to look over and confirm it for himself. He was even more of a motorhead than Eddie.

“Sure is,” Eddie answered numbly. “1980 FXB with an eighty cubic inch square engine. Pristine condition.”

“Original paint job?”

“Looks like it.”

Donnie sobbed quietly, digging his fingers into his eye sockets. “Stupid lucky little fuck.”

There was no getting around it, it was a fucking gorgeous bike. Seemed like he and Carver had the same taste in motorcycles too.

Chrissy stared at the sheek black vehicle, completely mystified. “Jace, how on earth…”

“My dad let me have it for the afternoon to stretch its legs, just have to get it back in the garage by six or he’ll skin me alive… Nice huh?”

She nodded, her big blue eyes wide and round, something like a daze coming over her.

“How about it? You want that ride?” Jason asked again with a chuckle, holding up the second helmet that was hanging on the upper rider seat behind him.

“Really!?” she asked. “I can? It’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, c’mon.”

A happy little squeak escaped her as she jumped up and down in his arms, tugging on his shoulders so that he would hurry up and drive away with her into the sunset. Eddie had never seen her more enthusiastic outside of a cheer routine. She was always so poised and put together. Right now she could barely hold still long enough for Jason to get the helmet on her head and wrap her up in his letterman so she wouldn’t get cold.

It reminded him of the little girl he met backstage of the middle school auditorium all those years ago.

“Settle down, Chris.” Carver chuckled. “Gotta make sure this is on tight.”

Everyone watched them as Chrissy mounted the seat behind Jason, her arms slipping around him to hold his narrow waist. They looked… perfect together. Even more so than usual.

“Some guys really do get everything.” Donnie muttered with a shake of his head, having finally looked up.

Eddie smirked miserably at that, taking another deep drag. No fucking kidding.

Chrissy’s squeal of nervous, wild laughter could be heard even when Jason shifted gears and tore away from the school, kicking up loose gravel.

Eddie, because his favorite thing in life was to commit self sabotage, smoked way too much afterward and ended up falling asleep in the back of his van. The boys had been nice enough to clean up the scene, lock up the van… and tuck him in on the small cot. Someone even left him a bag of chips and some water. Probably Jeff.

He just laid there groggy as hell, kinda wanting to die, but kinda not. Sorta in this weird headspace that if he did die… that wouldn’t be too bad.

Images of Carver and Chrissy kept swirling in his mind… and he wasn’t sure why it was bothering him… okay, that was a lie… but he wasn’t sure why it was bothering him this much.

He was nothing if not a cynic. He knew how the world worked. Girls like Chrissy ended up with guys like Jason. And that was that. While guys like him drank or smoked themselves to oblivion because all they were good at was making their already shitty lives even more shitty.

His pathetic self pity party was interrupted by the sound of voices outside. He sobered up, quickly scrambling to the front seat, with the grace of a newborn antelope, half worried it would be Hopper swinging by to make sure he wasn’t loitering after school again… but no… God could never be so merciful.

It was the royal couple, back from their tour. Jason was just coming out of the gym with a duffle bag while Chrissy sat waiting for him on the motorcycle.

“You look really good on that.” Jason told her.

She smiled bashfully as she scooched up along the seat, holding the handle bars, eyes on the road ahead, pretending she was going to peel right out of town. “I think I want one now.”

“Oh yeah?”

She glanced up at him coyly, almost like she was waiting for a reprimand. Her smile grew wider when he only came to settle heavily behind her, his strong arms snaking around her waist.“Yeah… will you teach me to drive it?” Oh so bold. Oh so flirty.

“Sure.” Jason leaned forward, pressing his chest to her back, gripping his hands over hers as he spoke into her ear. “You know I love teaching you things.”

Chrissy flushed, a nervous little giggle escaping her. Jason laughed and kissed her cheek. “You really like it huh?”

She bobbed her head. “I love it… We should… we should get one.”

Jason laughed loudly again. “Yeah sure, maybe someday.”

“I’m serious!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining at this idea. “We can both save up the money and after graduation… we can just go.” She shot her hand off toward the setting sun like a rocket.

“Go?” He was smiling at her placatingly, like someone listening to the aspirations of a little kid. “And just where would we be going?”

“I don’t know,” she breathed, leaning back against him, pulling his arms back around her. “Everywhere, anywhere, Chicago, New York, Seattle, Sedona, wherever we wanted… we can, can’t we?” Eddie remembered hating the way his heart swelled at her plea, at the way she came to life for a moment and looked westward toward the future. A future. One that could be her own.

They wanted the same thing.

Jason pondered her question for a moment with a teasing frown. “Well I mean, there is that whole pesky college thing.”

“We’ll still go to IU,” she assured him quickly, as if it were a mortal sin to suggest otherwise. “There’s the summer and holidays… and college won’t last forever.”

“Yeah, but everyone else is here, our whole lives are here.” Jason reminded her. “Won’t you miss your parents and Mattie?”

She hesitated, only for a second. “We’ll come back and visit… there’s just so much out there, Jason… don’t you want to see it?”

“Well, sure but…” Jason shrugged one shoulder, looking a little taken aback by the question. Why leave your own kingdom where everyone hangs off every word you say? Where everyone loves you? He eventually smiled.“What are we going to do? Live like hippies on the side of the road?”

“No,” she shoved him playfully, but the idea seemed to thrill her nonetheless.“We’ll find a place, our own place, just you and me, then we can go wherever we want, do whatever we want…”

“Well, when you put it like that,” he said a little more quietly, his eyes fixed solely on her, while she stared off into the horizon. Solar fire blazing in the deep oceans of her eyes. Crazy, wild dreams in her head. “Doesn’t sound too bad.”

After a little while, she shifted in her seat to look back up at him. “Can we go, Jason? Please say we can go. Say we can go somewhere someday.” She became a little frantic, like her life depended on this agreement. “It doesn’t have to be on a motorcycle, just say we’ll go.”

His hand rose to her ribcage, just shy of her breast to cradle her against him, kissing her forehead. “Alright, alright, it’s a deal.”

Her enthusiasm faltered, but only for a moment. “You promise?”

He grew serious, looking her right in the eye as he stroked her cheek.“You know I’d do anything for you.”

That seemed to satisfy her enough. A slow, bright smile lit up her whole face at the pact. She sunk her fingers into his golden waves and drew him down to her, kissing him deeply. “I love you.”

“Love you more.” He sighed, kissing her back, folding her up into his arms to lift her up. “Come on, we gotta get this back under the tarp before my Dad actually kills me.”

Chrissy nodded, putting the helmet back and climbing around him to the back seat. She held on to him tightly as he kickstarted the Harley.

Eddie watched them as they pulled out of the lot and disappeared down the road, Chrissy’s rose gold hair flying beneath her helmet.

Yeah. Some guys really did get everything.

[telekineticseance]

STRANGE ATTRACTION

pairing: professor! trey parker x f! reader

summary: you run into trey in public and the two of you have a little bonding moment (second part to fascination street)

genre: fluff

word count: 1969

cw: legal age gap

author’s note: this took me too long because i constantly get hit with small amounts of writer's block BUT I'M POWERING THROUGH

if you haven't read the first part check it out here: "FASCINATION STREET"

You sat in your apartment, looking through different articles to help with your essay. You still didn’t have any idea what you would be doing, but flipping through the variety of news articles was helping put some thoughts into your head. You read the clock on your laptop and saw it was after 7.

Letting out a small sigh, you closed your laptop and got up from your spot before leaving your apartment. You settled on going to one of your favorite restaurants since you arrived in Japan, Sushi “SEN”. After taking the train and walking for a while, you arrived and walked inside. When waiting for a table you heard someone clearing their throat behind you so you turned and saw him. Trey Parker himself. His hair was slightly disheveled and he wore the same clothes that he was wearing earlier in the day.

“Oh. Mr.Parker.” You said when you snapped back from looking at his appearance in front of you. He grinned slightly, “Trey.” He corrected and you let out a small sigh, “Hello Trey.”

You looked around, noticing him standing alone, after all he didn’t have a wedding ring on his finger, “Are you by yourself?” He awkwardly laughed, looking down. “Yeah I am. And you?”

You nodded, “Yeah I come here when I can’t figure out my writing. Gets the brain flowing to get a change of environment than my apartment.” You explained, looking down at your shoes before looking back up at him. He nodded, rubbing his chin with his hand, looking like he was in thought before looking back at you, “I know this is kind of odd because I’m your professor but do you want to sit together? Maybe I can help you with what you’re struggling with.”

You felt your breathing almost hitch before nodding slowly, “Y-Yeah sure that sounds great.” He let out a soft smile, the fangs in his mouth poking out before walking over and getting a table for the two of you. You both walked to the table, sitting down before looking down at the menu. One flaw you learned when you got to Japan was while you learned to speak the language, you still struggled to read it. You usually just pointed at the pictures while ordering the food the best you could so it became a pretty simple routine when you went. Trey’s eyes scanned over you as you looked at the menu before he spoke, “Do you need help?”

You bit your bottom lip lightly, looking up at him, “I um..don’t quite know how to fluently read Japanese yet.” He let out a small chuckle, scooting his chair next to you to where your shoulders and arms were lightly grazing one another. You watched closely as he pointed at items on the menu, translating them for you. He spoke softly, a different tone than he would use during his lectures or during times when you’d stay after class to ask him questions.

“You okay?” He asked gently, breaking his contact from the menu and looking at you. You nodded slowly, looking back at the menu. “Yeah um. Thanks. I usually just get the Fried Shrimp meal honestly.” You told him, pointing at the item on the menu. He let out a small hum before flipping the page, “If you like the sushi part you should get the Nigiri meal. It's basically just a bunch of different types of sushi.” He explained pointing at a picture on the menu. You nodded looking at it, “Is that what you get?”

He nodded in response, “Usually yeah.” You gave him another small nod, confirming that you would order that before he shuffled his chair back to his original spot. You found yourself picking at the edge of the menu before the server came over and took your orders, the two of you set your orders before the server walked away and you looked at each other. “So what were you needing help with?” You shrugged, taking a sip from the water in front of you.

“I just can’t really find a topic to write about. Usually I can come up with something but I’m really stumped on this one,” You explained, thinking about how you found yourself staring at articles earlier, not really reading them, but just kind of staring at the topics as you went. He nodded, taking in what you were saying before resting his arms on the table, “Well what’s something you’re passionate about? I mean you’re doing a foreign exchange program at the moment. Maybe something about how it’s beneficial for others?”

You thought for a moment, “That’s really not a bad idea. But is it really something I’m passionate about?” Trey shrugged in response to your statement before thinking to himself, putting his index finger on his chin, perfectly placed on the dimple that sat there as he tapped his finger in thought. “Well what are you passionate about?”

“Movies. The industry.” Your response made Trey give a small chuckle causing you to raise an eyebrow. When he noticed your face he started to talk again, “That’s a great one right there. Write about how remakes suck or if you like remakes talk about something like that. Personally I don’t care for remakes, there’s no need for them when the original is just as good.” He explained.

You nodded while giving a small shrug, “That could be an option. I don’t care for remakes either. Or unnecessary sequels. As much as I loved Bill & Ted Face The Music I felt like it wasn’t a necessity for it to happen.” You told him, taking another drink from your water.

He nodded, “See. That could be something to work with. Or defend a genre you really enjoy and explain how it’s the best genre out of all movies.”

“I think comedy fell off. I miss the older style. 80s and 90s comedies were really good when they had weird plot points but still had the comedy to it.” He thought for a moment before taking a breath, “I think I have something for you to watch.” You raised an eyebrow at him, “What do you mean?”

“I may or may not have made a thing in college and I think you might like it. There’s not a lot of copies of it though. Only those in it got one and it’s on a tape but I think you would enjoy it.” He said, causing your eyes to widen. He was in a movie? Okay but seeing something of him in college might be entertaining at least since he never really discussed his younger life in class other than past writing projects he did for his writing classes in college.

You nodded in response, “It already sounds interesting. What was it about?” He went on to tell you about how it was a musical comedy he made with a few other kids from class, grinning as he talked about a few of them, the name Matt sticking out more than the others. But it was apparently about this guy who was a reported cannibal from Colorado during the 1800s who supposedly ate the others on the mining crew he was leading, but throughout his trial he continuously changed the story tweaking things every now and then it was him so while he was technically charged there were some people who were and still are confused about the situation as a whole. You listened to him as he continued to talk, his blue eyes reflected in the lighting above, a new side of him showing that you had never gotten a chance to see before.

When the food arrived, the two of you ate, continuing to discuss different movies and when you told Trey you had never seen Star Wars before he nearly got up from his seat and left. You giggled as his eyes widened when the words left your mouth and he let out a gasp that had a few people from other tables turning to look. “I can’t believe you haven’t seen Star Wars.” He said quietly, as if he said it too loud, the people around would attack. “I just never got the time I suppose.” You told him, telling him a little about your past and how many jobs you worked back home as an excuse to not be at home with your helicopter parents, and then when you finally got the chance to be in Japan and away from them, you spent most of your time doing classes.

He listened intently as you told him about your life back home, scoffing when you told him about how your parents demanded you stayed at a University close to home instead of traveling like you wanted to or being able to go to a University where you could have better classes for your major. “How did you get here then?” He asked, picking up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks before eating it. “I practically begged. I finally convinced them it was a good opportunity and they agreed to help only if I paid for everything to get here but I mean they basically make it so I don’t have to work while I’m here. My dad works for a successful company so while they hover, they have the money to give me the best childhood they can.” You told him.

“So were your parents always like that or did something happen?” He asked, causing you to give a shrug, “I’m not sure. It was always a thing they did but the older I got the worse it increased so it may have just been related to letting go or something. I do know though that once I finally finish this school year, I’m leaving immediately.” You said, giving out a small laugh.

“Do you know where you wanna go yet?” He asked, picking around his food around his plate as he held eye contact with you from across the table. “Maybe I’ll come back here. Maybe not. Since this is the only place I’ve been to outside of my hometown I’ve kind of grown attached despite not having friends from classes.”

He nodded, “Well I know I’m just an old guy but I’ve been in your shoes so if you need help. You know where to find me.” He grinned softly at you, making your stomach flip. “Thank you for the offer. I’ll keep it in mind if I end up coming back.”

The rest of the night went smoothly as the two of you continued talking about movies or personal lives, you asking if he did any more movies after college and he explains some stuff he did with his friend Matt but it never took off so eventually they both parted ways and now Matt works as some fancy accountant and Trey moved to Japan to teach. They still talk and they’re still really close but they both do wish things had worked out for them in the film industry. When it came time for the two of you to leave, Trey walked you to the door, holding it open for you before offering to pay for a taxi for you so you didn’t have to take the train so late at night. After finally convincing you, he got the taxi and waved goodbye to you, “This was really fun. I’ll see you in the morning?”

You nodded in response, “See you tomorrow Trey.” You told him, seeing a small flash in his eye when you called him by his first name before the door to the taxi shut and you headed back home, your stomach still doing small flips causing you to run your hand through your hair and leave you alone with your thoughts.

[bellaxgiornata]

Caught in the Undertow [Chapter Seven]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Original Female Character

[You can find the full summary and chapter list for this series here]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains fluff, angst, domestic violence, depression, PTSD, smut

Word Count: 5k

a/n: Still gradually transferring these over! Daredevil shows up unexpectedly in this chapter and Emily has to let him down gently–and she's also getting more suspicious of him. But Daredevil had a reason for his visit... Feedback is always appreciated!

My head rested on my hand against the glass window of the car, my fingers absently rubbing my forehead. I'd gotten a headache about five hours ago once the reception for the wedding I'd been working had really gotten underway. The pounding speakers the DJ was blasting music from had my ears ringing and my throat sore from trying to talk over the noise. 

Thankfully I had survived another double wedding weekend–though I was sore, exhausted, starving, and quite dehydrated. My feet were killing me even in the comfortable flats I'd chosen for yesterday and today; I was in dire need of new bandages on the backs of my heels where the shoes had been digging into the soft, tender skin. It was like my heels never had enough time to recover from one weekend to the next before my footwear inevitably ripped the cuts back open.

I glanced down at my phone–still no text from Matt since early this morning. But he had known I had a busy Friday and Saturday photographing weddings all day and that I didn't check my phone while I worked. Still, I missed him. As he'd told me, he had been busy Wednesday with a deposition and Thursday he'd had several meetings with clients so we hadn't had a chance to do more than chat on the phone a few times and look forward to seeing each other Sunday.

Unfortunately I'd gotten one call from Justin a little while ago and the sight of his name on my phone had made my blood run cold. He hadn't left a voicemail or a text this time though, so I'd tried to consider myself lucky and ignore it.

The Uber turned onto my street and I grabbed the strap of my camera bag, hauling it into my lap. I just wanted to get into my apartment, throw on some baggy sweatpants, eat whatever I had in my fridge, and chug so much water before collapsing into my bed and passing the hell out. Preferably for more than eight hours.

"Your stop for the evening, miss," the older gentleman said as he parked the car along the street beside my apartment building. 

"Thanks," I said.

I opened the door and slid out of the backseat as gingerly and elegantly as I could in the tight dress I’d been wearing. My flats cut right back into my heel the moment I stood on the pavement, my face wincing in pain a bit.

"Have a good night, miss!" 

"Yeah, you too," I told the driver before closing the door. 

The Uber drove off, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. With a huff I tossed the strap of my heavy camera bag over my shoulder, my muscles in my back immediately protesting the weight. I grit my teeth and began walking towards the lobby of my building, the backs of my heels burning with each step.

When I was a few feet from the entrance, something caught my eye just outside of the darkened alley and I froze. Slowly, my head turned to my left. 

Daredevil was standing just a fraction out of the shadows, enough that I could see him in his dark red suit. He gestured his head towards me before ducking down the alleyway. My eyes closed as I exhaled sharply.

I did not feel like dealing with this tonight. I just wanted to sleep and to get out of my damn shoes. And now Daredevil was somehow in the Upper West Side–where he was definitely not supposed to be–and all I could think about was how we'd kissed twice and how I'd drunkenly and very embarrassingly told him way too much information about my sex life the other week. It was made even more embarrassing now that something was actually happening between Matt and I finally, and I didn't want to ruin that over a ridiculous crush on the masked man.

I groaned, trudging to the alley after the masked vigilante as my feet protested each step. I startled when I turned the corner and almost ran straight into his intimidating form; I had expected him to be lurking further in the shadows. He looked serious tonight with his mouth drawn in a stern line across his lips as he took a half step back from me. 

"You lost?" I asked him curiously, ignoring the flutter in my stomach at the sight of him. "This isn't Hell's Kitchen, Devil."

"I know," he answered.

"Then why are you here?" I pushed.

In the faint yellow light shining down the alley from the streetlights I watched as his mouth twitched briefly. My eyes narrowed suspiciously at him.

"Are you stalking me? You said last time you weren't but…why are you here? At my building?" I questioned. 

He stared at me silently for a long moment. I could feel my pulse quickening despite how tired I was. I didn’t like knowing that he could hear it racing, too.

"I've been keeping an eye on your place," he finally admitted. 

My eyes widened in shock, my hands tightening on the strap of my camera bag. "Wait, you are stalking me?"

"No!" he shot out quickly, shaking his head. "No. A few weeks ago you said your ex was bothering you. Harassing you. You seemed worried–" he pointed towards me, "–your body language gave it away. You're…you're afraid of him."

I swallowed hard, my eyes glancing down at my feet as I nervously twisted the strap of my bag between my hands. He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t make it anymore weird that he knew that. Or how to find me.

"So I–I added your building to my nightly patrols," he said softly. "Just to keep an eye out. Make sure he's not lurking around. You aren't that far from Hell's Ki–"

"How did you know where I live?" I demanded, cutting him off.

"Your scent…I uh, I can track it," he said quickly, but it didn't sound too convincing.

I shook my head, one hand raising to pinch the bridge of my nose. I just wanted to go to bed. I didn't want to have to deal with the prospect of whether or not a known vigilante was stalking me supposedly for my own sake. And I certainly wasn’t planning on figuring out how to let the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen down easy tonight because of Matt, not after working a total of twenty-six hours in the past forty-eight. I needed my bed.

"I appreciate the thought," I began, dropping my hand from my nose and facing him, "but I'm fine. You really don't need to worry about it. Look, I should apologize for the other week. I was drunk and I am quite embarrassed about some of the things I said, but this–" I said, gesturing a hand between us, "–can't happen."

His head tilted curiously to the side, the corner of his mouth tugging faintly upwards as if he was fighting a smile. "Finally listening to me?" he asked.

"There's–there's someone I've been interested in for a long time," I admitted hesitantly, the red lenses of his helmet boring into me as I spoke. I wrapped my arms around myself uncomfortably, my gaze dropping. This was awkward. "The other day he uh…admitted the same thing. And I just–just want to explore things with him without…complicating it. Or at least further complicating it since I'm not mentally in the best place," I explained, muttering out the last bit. 

When my eyes traveled back to him I was surprised to see a warm smile on his face. My brows pulled together in confusion. That’s not the reaction I was expecting, not after our two previous encounters and with the way he’d kissed me both times.

"That's great, Emily. I'm happy for you," he told me. "I hope he does right by you to deserve the unwavering loyalty you always have."

My cheeks flushed at his words and I glanced away again, tucking loose hair behind my ear.

"I take it he kisses better than I do, too."

My heart briefly skipped as my eyes widened before my focus darted back up to him. He was smirking back at me, looking entirely unbothered. My mouth fell open but no words came out.

He held up a dismissive hand, waving away any need for explanation. "Don't worry about it." His smirk momentarily grew wider across his mouth. "But maybe he will have better luck unjamming your toaster."

My mouth dropped further as my cheeks burned at his words. There was a cocky grin on his face that I couldn’t even begin to decipher at the moment. 

"I cannot believe I told you any of that!" I exclaimed, mortified as I buried my face into my hands.

He chuckled lightly and then I heard his body shift beside me in the alley, a long sigh expelling from him. I glanced up from behind my fingers, noticing his expression had fallen back into the serious one he'd had when I'd first seen him.

"What?" I asked him nervously. 

"I told you I've been coming out here to keep an eye out for your ex," he repeated. 

"Yeah?" I prompted.

Daredevil's hands tightened into fists at his side, my eyes drawn to the movement. His attitude had shifted from cocky and amused to angry and violent so quickly as he mentioned my ex.

"He was here almost an hour ago," he told me, all traces of amusement gone in his tone. "Banging on your door until your neighbor threatened to call the police."

I took a hesitant step back, my heart slamming itself into my chest violently at the information. There was a wash of cold through my veins again despite the balmy heat of the night. My arms tightened around myself further. Daredevil's mouth dropped into a deep frown, his head canting to the side as he examined me. He took a cautious step towards me.

"He's gone, Emily," he told me gently. "He left about forty-five minutes ago. I followed him, made sure."

Tears were starting to burn behind my eyes. My breathing was growing short and irregular as sweat slickened my palms.

Daredevil took another cautious step towards me, a tentative hand held out. "Hey, he's gone. He won't hurt you. I won't let him. But maybe you shouldn't stay here tonight by yourself."

I nodded slowly, exhaling a shaky breath. "Yeah, yeah you're right. He might be–might be on something tonight. Might come back," I breathed out. 

"You have somewhere you can go?" he asked carefully. "Your brother's? A friend's? That…guy you're seeing?"

I licked my lips, Matt's gentle face running through my mind. He wouldn't mind me calling to crash there because Justin showed up, right? 

"I think so," I answered hesitantly. My eyes flew to the red lenses in his mask nervously. "Can–can you maybe…stay while I…bring my things up? Just while I'm in my apartment?" I pleaded. "I'm–" I swallowed hard. "I'm not sure I want to deal with him alone again," I admitted, voice soft.

His mouth twisted into a pained expression at my words, his fists tightening further at his sides. "Normally I would, Emily, I swear but I–I need to get back to Hell’s Kitchen."

I winced at his words, a tear slipping down my cheek as I began nodding my head rapidly. "Yeah. No. I get it."

From what I could see of it his face fell. His jaw clenched tight for a moment before he spoke.

"I'm sorry, I just–just need to get back. But Emily," he said in a fervid rush, "I swear he's nowhere near here right now. I've been keeping an ear out. I wouldn't leave you if I thought he was. Wouldn't leave if you weren't safe." One of his gloved hands gently grabbed my shoulder. "Please trust me. He's not nearby."

I ran a hand across my face, sniffling loudly. His hand was still gripping my shoulder, the red eyes of his mask intensely gazing back at me. Eventually I nodded, my stomach still churning uncomfortably at the thought that Justin had shown up at my place. 

"Okay," I breathed out. 

Daredevil stepped forward, unexpectedly pulling me in towards him with the hand he had on my shoulder and wrapping me into a tight embrace. Too alarmed at how my night had turned out, I buried my face into the armor in his chest. 

"You should call someone," he urged me. "Please don't stay here tonight."

I nodded against him before pulling back, wiping a hand across my face to brush away the dampness the tears had left. 

"Thank you," I whispered. 

"I'll always be here for you, Emily," he whispered back, his words causing something strange to stir in my chest. "I should have been before and I regret that now." 

My eyes narrowed at him curiously as he stepped back further into the shadows of the alley. "Wha–"

"I have to go," he told me, voice tight. "I'll continue keeping an eye on your place though."

I watched as he disappeared into the shadows entirely, leaving me alone. I exhaled roughly before turning, my legs shaking beneath me as I headed back towards my building. My shoulders hunched forward as I walked, the bag on my shoulder weighing me down and the sting in the back of my heels returning with each step.

I hurried through the lobby and up to my apartment, moving as fast as I could while trying hard not to remember when Justin had last shown up slamming on my door and shouting at me through it months ago.

My hands were trembling as I pulled off my flats, blood coating the bandages on my heels. I winced at the sight. As I padded along the dark floors to my bedroom, my breath coming in quick, my feet were grateful to no longer have my shoes cutting into them. 

I set my shoes and camera bag into my walk-in closet, bending down to retrieve my phone from my bag. I immediately searched my contacts and pulled up Matt’s name before hitting the call button. I chewed the inside of my cheek anxiously as the phone rang for a while before it went to his voicemail. I frowned, hanging up and checking the time. It was just after midnight, he might’ve had his phone off while he was sleeping. 

I took a deep breath and focused on changing out of my dress and finding something comfortable to slip into. I would try to call him again in a few minutes and if he still didn't answer I'd try Ezra.

Heading back to the dresser in my bedroom, I flipped through my drawers and found a pair of comfortable cotton shorts and a soft tee-shirt, pulling them on over my bra and underwear. I grabbed my phone and brought it to the bathroom with me, placing it on the vanity counter before setting to work scrubbing off my makeup from the day and brushing my teeth, no longer hungry after what Daredevil had told me. 

When I was finished in the bathroom, I picked up my phone again and tried calling Matt. The phone rang repeatedly and I felt my heart sink. I pulled it from my ear, about to hang up and call Ezra, until I heard Matt's voice come through the speaker. 

"Matt?" I asked, holding the phone back to my ear.

"Hey–hey, Em," he greeted. He sounded out of breath as he spoke. "Sorry I uh…just got back from the gym. Forgot my phone."

My brows furrowed for a moment. "You go to the gym this late?" I asked him curiously. 

"Yeah. Sort of–" he exhaled a sharp breath. "Sort of easier to fit into my schedule." He huffed a few more times, clearly trying to catch his breath. "Also less people to stare at the…the blind guy." He laughed a little breathlessly.

"Why are you so out of breath, though?" I asked.

"Didn't do a cool down after," he said quickly, still panting a bit. "Cardio day. Just wanted to get it over with, you know?" He cleared his throat. "So uh, what's wrong? Why’re you calling so late? Something happen?"

My mouth opened, the words almost immediately spilling out before I stopped myself. Matt didn't know about my weird friendship with Daredevil. I didn't know if now was exactly the time to bring it up, either. 

"I uh, just got back from today's wedding," I began. "My…my neighbor told me that Justin was here a bit ago. Banging on my door and–and looking for me." 

"Are you alright, Em?" he asked, instantly concerned. "He didn't do anything, did he?"

My free hand twisted into the fabric of my shirt nervously. "No," I whispered out. "No, I wasn't here. But I…" My eyes closed as my voice trailed off, the fear returning again as memories tried to flood back. "I don't want to be here," I breathed out, voice wavering. 

"You can stay here," he offered instantly. "You want me to come get you?"

I shook my head even though he couldn't see the gesture. "No, I can get a taxi. I just don't want to be here alone. I don't know if he might come back. And I–I don't want to be alone with my thoughts," I confessed. 

"Then stay with me tonight," he urged. "Come over now, I'll just shower quick and be out before you get here. I'll keep my phone by me if you need anything."

His concern warmed me and I felt my body relaxing a little. "Thank you, Matty."

"Call me if you need anything, okay?" he insisted. 

"I will," I promised. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

I hung up, gathering a big purse and tossing an extra pair of clothes in so I wouldn't have to come home tomorrow dressed in my pajamas. For now I didn't care, though. I grabbed my wallet and a bottle of water from my fridge and made my way back down to the lobby of my building. It took a minute to grab a taxi and then I gave them Matt's address before nervously settling into the back seat, my fingers anxiously tapping against my thighs as the car drove.

My mind was racing on the drive; I wondered why Justin would even bother to show up at my place. What more could he even want from me? Why couldn't he leave me alone? And–as much as I now appreciated it knowing the worry wasn't unfounded– why was Daredevil going out of his way for me? 

When the taxi pulled up in front of Matt’s building, I was quick to pay the driver before getting out and rushing straight to the elevator. The ride up to the sixth floor felt like it took forever before the elevator doors opened, and then I was almost sprinting down the hall towards Matt's door. 

I knocked sharply before wrapping my arms around myself. Almost as if he'd been waiting by the door, it swung open to reveal Matt. His hair was damp, water droplets dripping from the wet locks and trailing down his face. He had one hand tugging a dark blue tee-shirt over his muscled torso as his eyes landed along my neck. 

"Em?" 

"Hey, Matty," I greeted quietly.

He stepped to the side and allowed me to enter, shutting the door and locking it swiftly behind me. Then he turned towards me, his arms outstretched wide and a gentle expression on his face. Wordlessly I stepped into him, unwrapping my arms from myself and clinging to him instead, burying my face into his warm chest. He smelled like the slightly unscented soap he'd just showered with and I inhaled the smell deeply; it was comforting. 

"Thanks for letting me show up in the middle of the night," I murmured into his solid chest. 

"You're always welcome here, Em," he assured me.

His large, warm palms were rubbing soothingly up and down my back as he held me. His face was buried in my hair, his hot breath cascading down towards my neck and drawing goosebumps along my skin with it. My eyes closed as I soaked in the comfort of his presence; under different circumstances this could have been a moment that might have led to us kissing and possibly heading back to his bedroom, where I would have been more than excited to tear his clothes off and feel every part of him that I'd only ever imagined touching. But tonight, with my body worn from working back to back weddings and the strange encounter with Daredevil warning me about Justin's unwarranted visit, I just wanted to be held. To feel safe. I still wasn't ready for that step with him.

"Why don't we go sit down?" Matt suggested. "I know how much standing and walking you do all day at weddings. Your feet must be killing you."

With a reluctant sigh I pulled out of his embrace, allowing him to gently entwine our hands and lead me over towards his leather couch. The bright billboard outside of his window was casting a deep purple light across his living room. He settled me onto the sofa before turning to shuffle off, grabbing a glass from his cabinet and filling it with water.

"Would you like me to turn the lights on?" he called out from the kitchen.

"No," I answered back, my eyes watching as the colors shifted along his floor. "I like it like this. The uh, the billboard is bright enough. Calming, even."

Matt's feet shuffled softly against the floor before a glass of water was held out in front of me. I accepted it, the chill of the glass feeling good on my hands. I took a few sips, my stomach roiling at the liquid. 

"I can make you something to eat?" Matt offered.

"Thank you, but I'm not–not hungry," I told him, eyes focused on the condensation forming along the glass. "Sort of lost my appetite. My stomach is barely accepting water."

Cautiously Matt sat down beside me, his body mere inches from mine. His hands slowly rested on my shoulders, lightly guiding me to turn. My brow lifted curiously at him, not understanding what he was doing.

"Turn," he ordered gently when I didn’t move. 

"What?" I asked him.

He gestured his head towards the other end of the couch. "Turn, put your feet up."

My eyes narrowed curiously but I did as he asked, carefully turning my back towards him. His hands remained on my shoulders and as I shifted to look at him over one of them, his hands began massaging the sore muscles underneath them. A soft sigh escaped my mouth at his touch.

"Matt, you don't–"

"Relax, Em," he cut me off. "You've had a long weekend. You're sore, I know you are. Just let me take care of you. I want to," he told me.

I swallowed hard, giving in and relaxing into his touch. His fingers weren't rough, but they did press firmly into my muscles, softening the aching in my shoulders for a bit. And then his hands slid up to my neck, the calloused pads of his fingers working along the length of it; his hands massaged and soothed the tension that had accumulated from two days straight of toting a camera around it. My eyelids began to droop, my shoulders sagging as I began to lean backwards into him. His hands eventually worked their way downwards, initially focusing on the column of my spine before massaging the muscles on my upper and lower back. The only sound around us as he did was the soft breaths he exhaled behind me mingling with the faint pleasant hums his hands kept dragging from my throat. 

Eventually I felt myself close to dozing off under the tender ministrations of his hands and I turned towards him, his hands halting on my lower back at the movement.

“Thanks, Matt, but you really don’t need to keep massaging me,” I whispered.

He smiled, leaning forward into me as his hands slid from my lower back around to my abdomen, wrapping me in a tight hug from behind. His mouth planted a kiss to the corner of my jaw and a shiver ran down my spine.

“I really don’t mind,” he whispered back.

“Mmm, well I appreciate it,” I mumbled back, my eyelids sagging under the exhaustion from the past two days, “but I’m honestly beat. Keep it up and I’ll be passed out on the couch in a minute.”

“I could just carry you to bed,” he replied easily.

Something stirred down low inside of me at his words, but I was too drained and unnerved from the evening to focus on it. 

“I don’t think you’d–” a yawn cut me off unexpectedly and I stifled it behind a hand, “–want to do that. Sure you’re tired, too.”

“Finish your water, sweetheart,” Matt urged. “Your body needs it. Then we can go to sleep.”

I hummed in response before bringing the glass to my lips. I chugged the cold liquid down, my body relaxed enough that it didn’t further upset my stomach. Matt grabbed the empty cup from my hands, placing it down on his coffee table beside us before he stood up. I shifted on the couch, about to plant my feet on the ground, but Matt was quickly leaning over me. He easily slid an arm under my knees and one around my back before effortlessly scooping me up into his arms. A surprised gasp shot out of me as my own arms encircled his neck, clinging to him. Matt only chuckled softly, grinning down at me.

“Relax, Em,” he teased. “You weigh next to nothing. I won’t drop you.”

My cheeks burned as I gripped his neck tighter, my head slowly lowering to rest against his chest. He carried me across the living room and into his bedroom, releasing the hand around my back and still toting me easily as he slid the covers of his bed back. Gingerly he lowered me onto the mattress, my arms slowly unwinding from around his neck. 

“That was hot,” I mumbled drowsily, eyes half closed.

Matt huffed out a laugh and my eyes immediately snapped open when I realized I’d voiced that particular thought aloud.

“Was it?” he questioned me.

I threw a hand over my face, groaning. “I’m running on a few hours of sleep. That wasn’t meant to be said aloud.”

“I’m not complaining about it,” he answered as he made his way to the bedroom door.

My head rose from the pillow, brows knitting together. “Where are you going?” I called out.

He paused in the doorway, glancing back towards me. “I was going to sleep on the couch, let you take my bed.”

“Can you stay?” I asked him. “I…don’t want to be alone.”

“If that’s what you want,” he answered.

He slid the bedroom door shut, effectively blocking out the light from the billboard, before he trudged over to the other side of the bed. I settled back into the pillows as I watched his movements. He shifted on his feet beside the bed when he reached it.

“You prefer if I sleep with my clothes on?” he asked hesitantly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Matt, we already fell asleep half naked the other night together,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but that was because I didn’t have anything comfortable to change into,” he countered. 

“But I did,” I reminded him. “And I didn’t change into it. Sleep however you’re comfortable.”

A faint grin spread over his lips before he pulled the hem of his shirt over his head. My eyes lingered on the way the muscles in his abs and arms flexed as he undressed, discarding the sweatpants from his lower half next before he slid onto the bed beside me. One of his arms snaked its way under me, drawing me into his chest, and I rolled onto my side and into him. My left leg eased its way towards him, draping itself over his left leg as it settled between both of his warm, bare thighs. 

Leisurely my left hand skated across the warm, solid plane of his abdomen, my fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. My fingertips brushed along the dips and crevices between each muscle in his abdominals, some of them shifting beneath my touch as Matt shuddered. Biting my lip, my fingers gradually slid upwards just past his nipple where they began exploring some of the scars along his chest. I was too tired tonight to ask him about them, but I was curious where they’d come from. Instead, I turned my head lightly, placing a gentle kiss to the scar just beside where my head was resting on him. Matt hummed a contented noise in response. 

I readjusted myself against him, Matt’s hand gradually gliding back and forth over the length of my arm. My fingers continued tracing patterns along his chest, my eyelids growing heavy once again.

“Are you okay, Em?” Matt asked through the darkness, his deep voice breaking the silence.

I sighed, my hand ceasing its exploration across his bare skin. Instead my palm slid across his bare chest and down to grip his right hip, pulling myself flush against him. His hand on my arm squeezed me gently in return.

“I’m doing better now,” I murmured back, my fingernails drawing circles on his skin drowsily.

Matt’s head shifted above me, his mouth briefly pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. “Good,” he whispered into my hair.

My eyes closed as his head returned to the pillow, a small smile spreading along my lips. I felt safe and content wrapped up in his arms drifting off to sleep.