#there's the idea now write the story someone

[thaatdigitaldiary]

for the first time

hopkins paige bueckers x hopkins fem reader

for a long time, paige didn’t know why she felt the way she did about her best friend, someone who she “wasn’t” supposed to love, she didn’t want to ruin things. it was unfortunate she didn’t know you were waiting for her first. (kinda got this idea while listening to bags by clairo so i hope this makes your heart tingle and your eyes water!)

fluff and flirtationnnn (ofc🙏🏽), slight angst & minor argument, internal homophobia, cuteness and clarity at the end | this is lengthy! i hope ya like

enjoy!🙂‍↕️

disclaimer: i write nothing but angst or fluff when it comes to hopkins p, considering she was in highschool. thank you! - im considering this a “throwback story” so i can make a part two for older reader and older paige. 🫶🏽

paige and you were completely different when it came to high school. her priorities consisted of basketball, her future career, and passing senior year so she can make way to uconn. you however, were all about academics. you were in basically any club available, maintained a 4.0 gpa, and quickly climbed the rank of class president. how you two met was random, your sophomore year you were in photography club, meaning you took pictures of all the sports teams for the yearbook, and she stayed behind to talk to you.

"cool ass camera." she said going to touch it, but you quickly swat her hand away.

"hey! no touching. you break you buy." you say slightly stern, pointing your finger at her.

"technically YOU'D have to buy, this has nothing to do with me." she says laughing and shrugging her shoulders, getting a smile out of you. for her first time seeing you smile, she sure was in love with it.

"okay "miss photographer", what's your name?" she asks you, hoping she can get to know you. "mine's paige."

"i know, i see you all the time, you're like.. the best basketball player here." you say bragging on her, feeling kind of shy when you give away that you're a big fan of her.

"oh really, you think so?" she says in a flirty tone while she flexes, making you blush out of nervousness.

"okay, okay, don't get too in your head now, but yeah, you're really good. i'm the one who records and snaps all your shots. but my name is y/n, since you asked." you say with such a sweet voice, something that sent her in a trance, completely dazed in the sound of you speaking.

"cute name. hey uh, i was gonna ask did you need any help packing this stuff up, i won't break it i promise." paige says chuckling, her smile pure and full of life, an image that stayed in your head since you met her.

two years pass, and you and paige can never separate. despite being utter opposites of each other, you're glued to the hip. you still did photography, getting the best candid photos of your best friend on the court, excited to post them on social media so she gets the attention she deserves. you gathered the pictures together and created a collage to post on instagram.

you were paige's biggest fan to say the least, buying a hoodie with her name and number on it, and being able to sit on the sidelines and watch her play, with your photographer privilege of course. anytime she made a three, she'd point at you, making you smile. watching her play was something you couldn't get enough of, learning the game so you could understand when she was frustrated with a play, or if she just rambled on to you about it, you'd know exactly what she was talking about.

paige and your bond grew stronger, going to family events together, having sleepovers every weekend, even during the week, as well as going on family trips with her. you felt like you had your person when it came down to paige. you didn't really know much about anyone at your school, and you definitely didn't expect the school's star basketball player to befriend you.

life wasn't always so peachy though. you really struggled finding yourself. for a long time you were confused, not when it came to school, when it came down to your feelings. ever since you met paige, there was this feeling you couldn't shake, this feeling of nurture and love that you gained from her, the type no one else could give you. growing up, you weren't one to express your feelings to your parents. they were always busy, super strict, and for some reason never found too much time for you. but paige, she always dropped anything even if meant seeing you for 5 minutes.

the first time paige saw you, she noticed how you radiated positive energy, even though she had no clue what you were going through at home. all she wanted was to be the person by your side through thick and thin, forever and always.

with about a month and a half of school left, paige and her teammates took home the trophy for the final game of the season, and you were more than proud for her, ecstatic even. when the final buzzer went off for the end of the game, paige made a 3 pointer, beating the buzzer. you stood up and cheered as loud as you could, while paige ran towards you and swiftly lifted you up into a hug, making your feet dangle in the air.

"i'm so proud of you p." you said, muffled into her shoulder, as you feel her start to tear up from her words, and one of her biggest achievements.

"i really couldn't have done it without you, you're my motivation y/n." you feel a catch in your throat, signaling you're about to cry, and she quickly wipes your tears.

her family takes you both out to eat, and you had a duffel bag in their trunk that you packed the night before, so you could stay over at paige's house tonight.

after eating and making it to paige's place, you and paige made it up to her room, where she dropped her bags and your duffel that she insisted on carrying so you didn't "hurt your pretty hands" as she'd say. her room has evolved so much over the years, furniture moved around, basketball posters growing on the walls every visit, but one thing that never changed, was the framed picture of you and her on your nightstand, you on her back after her first win, both of your smiles bright and lively. the same picture lingered on her lockscreen ever since you two took it, your lockscreen being a picture you and her took at a sleepover at your house, you two under a fuzzy olive green blanket, exceptionally close for "best friends", but you never really cared.

that's another thing when it came down to paige, you never really cared. sure, questions and rumors spread, "are y/n and paige together?" "is paige gay?" "what's y/n's sexuality?"

it got annoying after a while, and paige and you always seemed to avoid the questions, and simply ignore them. it sucked that you wondered the same thing though. that was a sensitive topic, you couldn't ask paige about that, what if she finds you weird and stops talking to you?

you though, you should've been asking yourself that question. you've dated one guy throughout high school, and sure you liked him, (so you thought), but he was rude and belittling. after a conversation with paige, you immediately broke up with him. "he's not good enough for you," she said to you, always knowing what was best.

the real question was, what really was good enough for me?

paige never dated anyone in highschool, she turned down girls AND guys, so it made it extra hard to read her, even though you knew her like a book, cover page to the summary on the back of it. you wanted to know, but you didn't want to lose her in the midst of your curiosity.

sitting on paige's bed, you took your shoes off and got comfortable like you usually do, and she took off her practice gear and sat next to you.

"thank you for always being here for me y/n, like seriously." she sounds so genuine and would do anything to keep you here forever.

"p, i'm always gonna be here for you, you're my best friend." you go to embrace her, her muscular arms holding you close, your perfume lingering in her nose, making her feel at home.

you and her let go and look at each other for a while, eye contact never breaking, when she leans in for a kiss, and you let her in. the kiss is slow, as she tries to learn your body language, the kiss is meaningful, but is cut short when she starts freaking out.

"jesus christ y/n i'm sorry."

"i didn't mean to do that, it was an accident,"

an accident?

"oh, uh, yeah it's fine." you say, confused on what the big deal was, you've been wanting to do that forever, but i guess things weren't reciprocated.

things quickly got awkward, and then paige says something that honestly breaks your heart a little.

"maybe you shouldn't stay the night tonight, i uh, got family stuff."

you knew that wasn't true, she just didn't want you around after a moment like this just happened. but why is she shutting it down?

"you don't wanna talk first, i mean a lot just happened i think we should ta-" you try to explain to her when she cuts you off.

"just go home y/n." her voice cold and bleak, making you queasy.

paige was never like this with you, can a kiss really change everything? you thought asking your best friend a question would make you lose her, but you two KISSED. your heart dropped to your feet with the thoughts swarming in your head, "is she gonna leave me?" being the main one.

the next day rolls around, it was 12:30, the time she usually got back home after practicing with her dad, and you’ve received no sign of her, no texts or missed facetimes, which was unusual since you promised each other two years ago you'd try to facetime every. single. day. "she just needs time," you thought to yourself, but you text her anyway.

"hey paigeyyy, i'm gonna go to the store later, did you want me to pick anything up for you? i can drop by your house and give it to you?"

read 12:35pm

she read your message, but didn't respond until ten minutes later with a simple and dry "no" which made you sigh and move on about the day.

you missed paige. you slowly start to regret last night, but there's nothing you can do to change it. you already miss her face, her hugs, her lips, and how she looked at you. you open your camera roll to see a picture you and her took last night after her game, her holding you bridal style while you hold up her trophy, both of you smiling at each other. you put your phone down and decide to lay down for the rest of the day, as you had no motivation to do anything knowing your best friend didn't even wanna speak to you.

but deep down it was more than that, you had really fallen for paige, not wanting anyone but her, was that so wrong?

paige on the other hand, was losing it. she didn't know what to do with herself. there was no way she liked girls, let alone her best friend.

so why did she kiss her?

she wanted answers, but she couldn't and didn't want to talk to anyone about it, scared of how others would perceive her, worried she'd lose people over this, and worst of all, she didn't want to lose her best friend. she had to push her away, she needed space to think.

she thought there was nothing wrong with that, but it was the worst thing she could've done.

a week passes, neither of you are talking much, you haven't facetimed in what seems like forever, and her responses to you are weak and bland, making you feel as if she's not interested in talking to you anymore.

prom is approaching, you and paige planned to go together, to dance, make fun of other peoples dancing, and have another lively moment before summer break. but after that night, you're not sure what you two are gonna do, mainly because the day of prom, paige hadn't texted you at all. you weren't gonna go since you figured she wasn't, but you needed to get out of bed and go do something fun to get your mind off of the situation.

a couple hours go by, and you're finished getting ready. you have on an all black floor length dress, with small purple accents, since you already pre picked it out, intending to match with paige. you took your pictures with your parents, and drove to the school, as prom was being held in the gym this year.

you get there, hands clammy from your nervousness. you hate being here without paige, you wanted to take so many pictures, make so many memories, slow dance, and this was gonna be the night you were ACTUALLY planning on kissing her for the first time, showing her how long you've loved her.

the whole time you've been standing around looking bored, knowing you'd have so much fun if paige were here. that's until a guy from the football team comes up to you, asking you to dance with him. you insist, as you have nothing better to do. a slow song starts, and you and him are dancing slowly, until you notice a familiar face walk in the gym. paige.

she sees you and him and storms off to the bathroom, furious at the fact that you looked so beautiful, and that she wasn't the one with hands around your waist, taking in all your beauty.

you excuse yourself from his grasp, walking towards the bathroom, letting it clear out before you walk in.

"hey.." you say softly, not wanting to come off aggressive as if she hasn't been talking to you in what seemed like ages.

"what the fuck is he doing slow dancing with you? that was our thing y/n." she says, sort of yelling at you, but you quickly retaliate.

"no paige. you don't get to be mad at me because YOU shut me out. all i wanted to do was talk to you, you made me feel crazy, like something was wrong with me." you say, starting to cry.

"you completely went ghost on me, since before that night i've wanted no one but you, but i guess it doesn't matter,"

"i didn't come with him, he just asked me to dance because i looked bored, so i said yes." you tell her, looking at the tiled bathroom floor.

paige cups your chin and pulls your head up so you can look her in the eyes.

"i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have ran from you, i was scared. i really did mean to kiss you, just not like that. i wanted it to be special, i wanted it to be while we danced. i thought he was about to take that opportunity away from me. it woulda been memorable y'know?" she says while looking deep in your eyes, hoping you'd forgive her. “i know i’ve been acting weird, i just didn’t know what to do if i lost you.”

"i was also scared of what people would think of me, yknow, liking girls and shit. especially liking you, you're perfect, i didn't wanna ruin anything for you."

you don't respond immediately, until she says what's been on her mind since she met you.

"i'm in love with you, y/n. i've loved you since the first time i met you, you keep me sane, and without you i was losing my shit. there’s nothing wrong with you ma, and i apologize for making you feel that way."

your eyes go a little bit wider, and you finally respond, "i love you too paige, i always have. forget what other people think p, nobody matters but me with you." you smile wide at her and she smiles back, finally feeling content with herself, knowing she said what needed to be said, and could kiss you whenever she wanted to.

she leans in to kiss you, but you stop her.

"what cmon, i can't kiss you now?" she said to you while rolling her eyes.

"you said you wanted it to be special right?" you grab her hand and hold it for a while.

"yes ma'am i did," she says, leading you out of the bathroom and back to the gym, where another slow song has started. she quickly rests her hands on your waist, your hands on her shoulders, as you two sway to the song blasting through the cheap speakers the school borrowed.

"god, you look beautiful baby." paige says, finally taking in all of your perfection. your hair, makeup, and jewelry aligned perfectly, fitting you so well, she just loved looking at you. before you two continue dancing, she pulls her phone out of her dress pants pocket, and while she does so you take a good look at her. she looks stunning. a black button up and black dress pants, a silver chain completing the look. she goes to her camera app, and you kiss her on the cheek as a pose for the picture. she snaps multiple and eagerly changes her lockscreen.

"i love seeing this beautiful face everytime i turn my phone on," she says, you roll your eyes out of her corniness, but it still makes you blush. you also take a picture of the two of you, and you update your lockscreen as well.

"and i love seeing yours, and plus, this button up looks a little too good on you," you tell her, making her bite her lip slightly.

she grabs your hand and twirls you, bringing you back in, your faces exceptionally close to one another. the slow song comes to and end, and paige takes one hand off of your waist to cup your face, and connects her lips with yours and utters the words that make you happy to have met her,

"i love you y/n."

"i love you too paige."

and for the first time, you knew you had a forever person, and that person was paige bueckers.

HEY BAD BITCHESSS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDD I KNOW THERE’S NOT MANY HOPKINS FICS OUT THERE SO I WANTED TO TRY! i’ll try and be consistent with posting, just bare with me 🙂‍↕️ love you

tags: @rosemariiaa @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter

🫶🏽🫶🏽

the collage that “would’ve been posted”

[yan-randomfandom]

P!Yandere!Pines Family x GN!Teenager!Reader

[PLATONIC] a continuation to this! decided to just make them all yanderes cuz y not lol errmm just subtle ykwim... i'm not proofreading all this so just have my draft

warnings: staring, violence, alcoholics, abuse, blood, implied murder. woah intense

❤️‍🔥

"Then I saved Ford by slicing its eye! You should have seen it!"

You laughed, settling down from your dramatic gestures that you've been making throughout the entire dinner. The entire Pines family watched you in awe, especially Dipper and Mabel, easily captivated by your personality and story.

"Yes, well, they certainly saved my life," Ford chuckled as he fed himself a spoonful of food.

"You have to stop lettin' kids save your life so much," Stan scoffed.

Dipper grabbed a book out of nowhere, clicking his pen in preparation—

"No writing at the dinner table! We talked about this!" Stan called out, earning a sheepish smile from Dipper who immediately drops the book on the ground.

"But what did the monster look like?" Dipper stammered, eventually turning to you with a curious look on his face. He looked eager to learn more. That's what you can tell anyway, if you remove his reddened face, which is most likely from embarrassment.

Mabel, who sat across from you, leaned towards you with the biggest smile on her lips. You grinned back to return her energy. "Bet it was super gross! Was there a lot of blood?! Blaarrrgghhh!!!"

"No gross sounds at the table, pumpkin!" Even Stanley felt like he's tired of his own voice. This is him trying his best to not let you be uncomfortable. Well, he supposed you and his brother brought up the story in the first place.

Speaking of, why were you even here? Ford came back in the mystery shack after missing for a day, only to bring a random teen with him. It's a good thing he cooked extra since he thought Soos was coming over.

But he needed answers fast.

"Ford," Stan whispered firmly, catching his brother's attention. Tilting his head, he tried to signal him to move out, but someone interrupted them before they could do anything.

"Hey! No sneaking out the dinner table!" Mabel exclaimed, pointing a fork at her grunkles.

Stanley stood up and Ford followed his actions. They were already heading out the door with Stan holding his twin's wrist. "Well, sweetheart, VERY REASONABLE EXCUSE!"

As soon as they were out of sight, you and the other kids exchanged looks.

"He did say it's reasonable."

"Yeah, I can live with that."

... You snorted. "You guys are a funny bunch. He literally said the excuse, and you let him go just like that? You must trust each other a lot."

"You have no idea, stranger, you have no idea," Mabel laughed. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

💥

Meanwhile, deep inside the mystery shack, where they were sure there'd be no eavesdropping happening...

"You let the kid stay here without telling their parents?!"

Stanley was freaking out. Yet, he really shouldn't be surprised Ford would do this. Ironically, poindexter would even criticize his behavior, his grunkle methods! How ridiculous is this whole thing, huh?!

"It's more complicated than that! Look, I know this sounds bad—"

"It does!" Stan yelped, his hands clenching. "Their parents must be so worried! And we can't just let them—"

"No, no, Stanley, walk with me here," Ford said, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders. "It's their parents that are the problem."

A few deep breaths from Stan. Alright, okay. This is making more sense now.

"We'll take them to their house first thing in the morning," Ford explained. "Let's see what we'll do from there."

🔥

"I hope my drawing isn't too bad," you chuckled, giving the journal back to Dipper. His eyes skimmed over your illustration of the monster you killed. "It doesn't match yours and Mabel, but..."

"Are you kidding?! It's perfect! Thank you!" Dipper beamed, writing more notes down the rest of the page.

From above, Mabel had her legs folded over the ceiling wood of the house. You looked up and made eye contact, as much as you can anyway. She's upside down.

"Hi! How old are you again?"

How did she even get up there, you wonder. You glanced around, smiling when you realized, and worked your way up.

They stared at you in awe when you climbed right next to Mabel's side. Now you're hanging upside down too. "Cool tricks, Mabel. Hope you don't mind me copying you?"

She doesn't respond, starstrucked. Glancing at Dipper, his jaw was also on the floor.

"Uhhh," you awkwardly smiled, "But I just turned sixteen! You guys are turning thirteen, right?"

"You're the coolest," Mabel whispered, dragging a hand across your face. Okay. That's a bit weird, but it's welcome.

"Thanks," you grinned, manually removing her hand from your face. You looked down at Dipper again. "Hey, Dipper, what time is it?"

He scrambled around and grabbed a watch from somewhere. "Uh, nine o' clock."

"Nine?!" your sudden outburst caused you to fall to the carpet, a pained groan leaving your lips. At least you managed to drop skillfully. "Oh, that hurt."

"Are you okay?!" Dipper rushed to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back.

"Yeah, I just," you paused. "It's nine already? My parents are gonna kill me, man. I gotta go home."

"What!!"

Mabel also dropped down from her outburst, but her landing isn't painful as yours, because you caught her in time. She gazed at you from your arms, stars forming in her eyes.

"Woah. You have fast reflexes!" she squealed as you gently put her down.

Dipper shook his head. "But you can't go home this late at night. Didn't you say you're from outside of Gravity Falls?"

You crossed your arms, pondering. "Yeah, but... Okay, wait, where's Ford?"

Footsteps followed your words. All of you turned to the doorway, seeing the older set of Pines twins. It's kind of amazing, really, you rarely saw twins and this family has two pairs.

"Oh, there you are!" you grinned, walking over to him. Ford blinked at you. "I'm sorry, dude, but I think I overstayed my welcome. I'll go ahead and—"

"Eh, nah," Stanley chimed in, earning your attention, "It's too dark for ya to go out. Let's take you home tomorrow, yeah?"

"But-"

"No butts, they're for sitting," he continued, gently pushing you down on his recliner. You sat down, albeit confused. "Think of it as a sleepover. That's fun, right kids?"

Mabel skipped to your view, an eager grin on her face. "Yeah! We can paint your nails and everything!"

"While I'll show you more of the journals," Dipper beamed, showing one of them to you.

Their ideas were nice, it truly was, but the circumstances are concerning. You couldn't help the frown forming on your lips. They all noticed.

Ford stepped in between them, kneeling and offering you a smile. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll take good care of you 'til morning. I'm sure your parents will understand."

"I guess I can't really do anything about it," you muttered, eventually accepting the situation. You stood up with a grin. "Okay! Who wants to be unaware of me stealing cool stuff here?!"

"I do!" Mabel screamed, only to pause. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah," Stan squinted, "What?"

You hummed, suddenly behind him, and stared at his wallet. Ford shook his head at you. "You have a very alarming number of IDs. Is this normal? Then again, you're old."

A laugh left Stan as he took his wallet from you. "Oh, I could use that type of skill. Didn't even hear or feel you take it!"

"I can teach you," you smiled.

"Please don't," Dipper groaned.

🌬️

"This journal is amazing! And Ford wrote this? Seriously, no wonder why he was so smart!"

You flipped the book page by page, your jaw dropped the whole time. Sure, a while ago, you saw one page, but only because Dipper told you to draw on it. You didn't expect a whole research surrounding Gravity Falls!

"Interesting enough for you to visit Gravity Falls more often?" Dipper chuckled as he watched you.

"Woah," you smiled, "You like my company that much, Dipper? Don't you have any friends here— oh shoot, wait, I didn't mean—"

A ghost of a frown spread through his face. Why did you have to ask that?! You were just projecting if you had to be honest, but still!!!

"Sorry, that was insensitive," you blurted, closing the book and focusing all your attention on him. "I only said that because I feel that way. I know, that's pretty lame."

He looked surprised. "Really? But you're so cool?"

"Some people think I'm weird is all. But thanks for finding me cool, Dip," you laughed, glancing at Mabel who was snoring. "I find you and your sister cool too. A lot, actually. So it's nice to know you both like me."

Dipper sniffed. "Man. Ditto."

You grabbed a blanket and placed it over Mabel's body, making sure she's covered head to toe. She snuggled up to it unconsciously.

"Welp, bed time," you murmured, reaching for another one. You stretched the blanket, letting Dipper be able to invite himself in. "Come on."

He happily accepted, nestling his head next to your shoulder. Mabel followed him, her head tilting to your chest.

You slept, content.

🌪️

You woke up, disturbed.

The first thing you saw after sleeping is Dipper and Mabel staring at you in silence. As soon as you noticed them, they scrambled away from you and tried to act natural.

Yet, you couldn't forget the small glimpse of their faces. Wide-eyed, a bit of judgment, but most of all, solemn.

Before you could question them, Dipper yelled, "Grunkles! They're awake!"

You winced from the volume of his voice, having just woken up. He immediately apologized to you, but it's all good.

"Visit us again soon! Byeee!"

The next thing you know, you're in the backseat of a car with Stanley next to you. He was pouting, arms crossed.

"This is literally my car. I can't believe it! You won't even let me drive my own car?" he sneered at Ford who sat on the driver's seat.

Ford rolled his eyes. "I can't have you get in trouble by driving again. Think of the kid."

While driving to your address is certainly much faster than walking, it still took a while. You managed to fall asleep, tilting your head on Stan's shoulder. It seemed that you're not alone in being unconscious, because he snored loudly.

Glancing at the mirror, Ford simply exhaled.

You're here.

He parked in front of your house.

Ford nudged Stan awake, who poked you awake next.

You stood up drowsily, holding Stan's hand while walking up to your house. Ford took the lead and knocked on your front door.

To both grunkles' disappointment, things get messy.

Both your parents, drunk, loudly told them off and took you away roughly from Stan. Tears leaked out of your eyes, saying countless apologies to the Pines twins and your parents.

Without much of a fight, Ford forcibly grabbed you back, carrying your body with one arm. He looked at Stan who placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Psst, I'll handle this," Stanley murmured in the midst of your father yapping nonsense. Maybe the professional con-man can knock some sense into your deadbeat parents.

Ford took you back to the car. You sobbed relentlessly, whispering the most saddening things he wished to unhear. He hugged you tightly, muttering sweet nothings until you fell asleep.

After a long while, Stan finally came back.

His eyes were wide. He was shaking.

"I didn't mean to. They started it—I had no choice!"

Gazing down, Ford realized Stan's hands were covered in blood. He swallowed the thickness in his throat.

"...I'll help you clean it up."

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Nothing official, right? IV

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Warnings: no proof reading, wild cat!reader, mentions of sexual activity, soft!Bruce to you, you like to gently bully Bruce.

You knew that even if you had told Bruce that you wanted nothing serious, your relationship was actually shifting to something a lot more official.

Everyone was gossiping about the fact that the rich playboy of Gotham seemed to be only spending time with one girl lately. And you were pretty certain that indeed Bruce hadn’t had any kind of romantic or sexual relationship apart from you. You hadn’t either because no one really interested you. It didn’t mean you wanted to be “his” girlfriend.

You were still worried you would lose your credibility now everyone knew Bruce was seeing you. After all, the “son of Gotham” was always followed by paparazzi and you couldn’t hide your relationship forever.

At first, you heard whispers around you; you were just another girl to fall for Bruce. But you kept writing articles about the elite of Gotham and you kept pointing things out. When something was about WE, you simply informed Bruce you were going to publish an article about his enterprises. You kept doing your work. And the man never stopped you from doing so, because he loved that about you. You were ruthless to him, and he was finding it way too attractive for his own good.

The whispers quietened down.

Bruce took advantage of the situation by freely gifting you absolutely gorgeous dresses and jewels, without having to worry about “bribing” you anymore. He was inviting you to his favourite restaurants as well. 

But he was also eager to follow you to little cinemas and places you enjoyed and in which you were more at ease. You always ended up in a hotel room or at your place. You didn’t necessarily have sex, even if he often ended on his knees and in between your legs. At least until Batman was called for duty by Gordon or his kids (he made sure to finish you off before running away). 

After his missions, he almost always came back to you, and you always took care of his wounds and bruises. You were his safe place. His haven.

You never asked questions about what happened. You knew who he was and it was enough for you. You also knew Gotham’s media would soon enough talk about the last adventures of Batman. He was grateful you never interrogated him because he could forget about work when he was with you. 

His children, Alfred and even the Justice League noticed how his mood changed lately. Of course, he was still a grumpy bear but some of his usual anger and despair seemed to have died down. He was more relaxed and even more open to discussion. After all, when he was with you, and that you thought Bruce or Batman should have been better, you always let him know without sugarcoating it. He appreciated it even if it was quite a humbling down experience for him as well. More than once he hinted that he would love to have you working at Wayne Enterprises by his side, but you didn’t want to date someone who would also be your boss. Bruce didn’t answer back that if you were getting married one day, he could easily make you co-CEO.

After a few more weeks, Alfred told Bruce that maybe you could come over to the manor. Bruce hadn’t brought you at first because he knew you would have felt uneasy and judgemental there. And then, he wasn’t too sure he wanted you to meet his family. He had no idea how his children would react to you. 

And even if he loved them, he didn’t want anything to ruin your current relationship. Especially now it was getting obvious to everyone that you weren’t a one night stand, you weren’t just a girl Bruce fancied, you weren’t just some fun for a little while. It was obvious that Bruce Wayne was falling in love. Hard. 

And everyone was whispering about it behind his back, sometimes teasing even him right in front of him (but his deathly stares always made them shut up).

More importantly, everyone was curious about you. 

Of course the children easily found you and followed you around to discover who you were. They hated to admit it but you did seem like the perfect match for both Bruce and Batman. You were fearless, you were intelligent and kind. You were a true detective yourself.

They learnt about your past. They felt like you could understand them too. You knew poverty, you knew violence, you grew up with bad people surrounding you, and yet you decided to be a good person. You decided to stay and to fight for Gotham, even though you could have ran away. And they loved to read your merciless articles about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises. Of course, you calmed down once you started this relationship, but gosh they found some pretty good punchlines they loved to use against their mentor.

During the day, Bruce called you and offered to eat at the manor for once. You understood it meant that your relationship was getting even more serious than you thought, which worried you a little bit. It wasn’t your fault if you were a wild cat. You asked if he was going to introduce you to his family and he laughed.

“I didn’t have time to tell them how to behave around you, so not this time, love. Just you and me.”

“To behave around me?” you asked

“I’ve never presented anyone to them before. Not officially at least.” he explained

“But you want me to meet them?” you hummed

“They ask a lot of questions about you, and they love your articles, so I’ll guess at some point we’ll have to.” Bruce replied

“Sounds good to me… I just need to get ready for meeting all of them. You really need to stop adopting children, Bruce” you teased

“Can’t promise anything” Bruce admitted and you groaned

Unfortunately, the night you were supposed to eat and sleep at the manor was a very busy night for Batman. Alfred was kind enough to start chatting with you. He finally sat down next to you as you both enjoyed some tea while waiting for Bruce. You went along quite well and Alfred went to bed that night, very grateful for whoever sent you on his master Bruce’s path. You were some fresh air in the manor.

It was late in the night when Batman, Nightwing and Red Robin went back home.

Dick and Tim absolutely wanted to greet you and they sneaked into the dinning room as Bruce was quickly showering and taking care of his wounds. Tim was observing you with interest as Dick was being his charming self.

“So you’re the girl” Dick said

“People generally call me Y/N” you replied with a raised eyebrow and Tim chuckled

“Haven’t you read what she wrote about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises, Dick? Be careful, she might kill you with her words” he teased and you laughed

“Do you still stand by what you said despite the fact you are now dating Bruce?” Dick asked with a tilt of the head

“Oh yeah, Bruce is still a rich traumatised guy with a saviour complex, who adopts too many kids each year. The Brucie persona is complete bullshit and I still roll my eyes when I hear him use that voice” you nodded

“That voice?” Tim asked

“The “I’m the good son of Gotham so let me help you” voice” you replied with a roll of your eyes “Gosh, what an actor” you added and both the boys started laughing.

They instantly liked you.

“Why are you with him then?” Dick asked and you hummed in thought

“Despite everything, it seems that Bruce is actually… likeable and interesting”

“You seem disappointed?” Tim commented

“In myself? Yes, very much. In Bruce, well I’ll give him some time” you winked

The boys laughed again but they hoped Bruce wouldn’t actually disappoint you. You were such normalcy, fun and happiness in the man’s life. They were certain you could bring a lot of joy in the family too.

They knew you cared about him a lot more than you were saying when they saw how you got up and checked on Bruce when he entered the room.

“I’m sorry I’m late… Well I guess you were doing well without me” Bruce arched an eyebrow at the four of you; Dick, Tim and Alfred were smiling.

“Oh yes, I was just speaking ill of you, hon” you teased “All good?” you asked and he nodded

“Always when you’re around” he whispered to you before kissing you. 

It was the cue for everyone to leave the two of you alone. Bruce and you forgot about everyone else anyways.

--

PART 5

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake@randomnamedmira

[gremlinmodetweeker]

okay okay, it's a lil silly but hear me out konig + phantom of the opera au

man's got it all; need to cover his face, obsessive tendencies, and the need to be a secretive lil (big) weirdo *chef's kiss*

NO NO NO HOLD ON YOU'RE COOKIN. NOT SILLY AT ALL.

Now look here, I dunno if you know this, but I am a sucker for classic literature. One of my top three favourite books of all time is Frankenstein by Mary Shelly. That woman ate when she wrote that book and I will listen to nothing else. I also really want to write an essay about how Frankenstein is Mary Shelly discussing the inherent horror of motherhood in those times and how the lack of a mother figure shapes an individual. I think it's an extremely layered book, but I like to see the parenthood lens of the book.

Now now now, this is about Phantom of the Opera. I do know a bit about the original phantom, and I don't like to think König or reader dies in the end (just personally, I can't write a tragic ending. I really need a happy ending, not for the reader, but because I need a happy ending). So, let me introduce the idea that this is a version where the phantom wins.

This is one where the phantom was fucking right and actually, freak of nature as he is, maybe he had a point!!! Maybe, reader shouldn't be dating someone twice their age. Maybe, though König is a bit older for sure, he's actually not that old and a more appropriate age. Albeit, though now recovered, König still suffered a case of leprosy after being exposed during a war. He considers himself hideous, but maybe reader would be able to look past his sickness?

Now, is König appropriate as a lover? Probably not. He's obsessive, jealous, and a borderline stalker. He's determined to kill off the man who's trying to seduce her ('How dare you try and take my little songbird away from me!!!') and will do anything to keep reader to himself. However, he's also saving reader from a far worse fate with someone worse than him.

Reader is enchanted by Makarov of course, but König knows better and is determined to show her the light. He desperately wants to just talk to her and explain everything to her, but at this point he's committed to what he's doing and social anxiety makes him unable to just knock on her door and talk to her like a regular person.

Once again, like every incredible story in the English language, if you guys just talked everything would be fine but nobody knows how to be an adult.

Anyways, König loves reader dearly. Watching her perform makes his heart ache. His one saving grace is a beautiful voice he uses to enchant her. If his face is nothing but sickness, let him sing to his little songbird and help her connection to music. He'll do what he can to cling to any connections he has to her. He's desperate to hold her, and he'll do whatever he needs to to get to her.

IMPORTANT EDIT:

König with the phantom mask but he has two long red ribbons coming out the bottom of the eyes and the rest of his face is hidden under a dark hood. Consider it.

[faeriichaii]

Hi! I was wondering if you could please write a legolas fix where he has a crush on f!reader!. But here's the thing, she's arwen sister and both arwen and aragorn try to match them both together and at the end they get to confess and all! I had this idea tysm<33

Sunkissed ~ Legolas x F!Elf!Reader

A/N: oh how I missed Legolas <3 I haven’t written anything for him in such a long time that I am so so happy to do a request for him again <3 tbh I think it is so easy for me to write him? Cause idk I picture him like the perfect romance guy?? And idk I always get so soft writing for him haha but omg I hope you enjoy the story!! <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 2.0k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Le I velethril e-guil nîn ~ You are the Love of my Life ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Le Melin ~ I love you ࿐ྂ

Summary: You have been in love with the elven prince since quite a time, but never told him about it. Your sister Arwen however, is determined to change the course of your relationship with Legolas.

The light of the setting sun enveloped the room in a warm orange hue, a perfect start for the upcoming celebration of the night. Aragorn, as well as the rest of the company, arrived in Rivendell a few days ago. However, due to their immense exhaustion, the festivities had to be postponed until today. Sitting in front of your vanity, you listened to Arwen hum while her hands brushed through your hair. You have asked for her help earlier and being your sister, she of course, did not decline your request of braiding your hair. “Are you excited for todays festivities?” You suddenly asked her. Watching her reflection through the mirror, you saw a gentle smile gracing her face. “Of course I am sister. They have finally returned from their long journey and deserve to be celebrated.” “You are especially keen on celebrating Aragorn, aren’t you?” You teased her. A blush dusted her cheeks, as she gave you a light slap on the shoulder.

“Stop it. Don’t try to deny that you aren’t keen on celebrating a special someone yourself.” Arwen uttered while gathering a few strands of your hair. Looking down at your lap, you tried to hide your broad smile from her. Even the thought of Legolas alone made your heart skip a beat. And now he finally returned to Rivendell. “We are just very close friends, sister.” “Yes. Very very close friends indeed.” You scoffed at her. It was a known fact that Legolas and you have been friends since your early childhood days. You remember playing with him in the gardens of Mirkwood and dancing together at celebrations in Rivendell. You also remember how your heart shattered as you watched him chase after Tauriel. And of course you remember, putting Legolas heart back together once more.

One could say you went through a lifetime already, however you still only remained friends. “Yes, friends. Nothing more and nothing less.” Slight bitterness filled your voice at the prospect of never being more than that with the elven prince. Arwen, noticing the tone, gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “You say it like it is a curse to be his friend.” “Well, you do know how I feel towards him, don’t you?” “And you know that you can change the course of your relationship anytime, don’t you?” Her arms wrapped around your shoulders in a gentle hug. “Stop worrying about a rejection that will never happen. Even our father can tell that Legolas harbours more than just friendly feelings for you, sister.” Smiling at her, you squeezed her arms, that were still encircling you. “Arwen, the sun is already setting and you still haven’t even begun to separate the strands.” She let out a huff at your change of topic and let go of you, continuing to brush through your hair. “Dear sister, would you prefer a half up half down braid with pearls?”

After finally finishing up and heading to the festivities with your sister, you quickly looked around the room. “Searching for someone specific (Y/N)?” Aragorn asked, while holding an arm out for Arwen to take. “No, not particularly.” “She is, but she just is too shy to admit it.” You glared at your sister. “Don’t worry, he will be here soon.” “Thank you, Aragorn but I am not worrying about anything or searching for someone or something. Now excuse me, I need to get a cup of wine.” And with that you left the couple alone.

“When are the both of them finally admitting their feelings for each other?” Arwen asked her lover, while he guided her towards the dance floor. “Legolas once openly admitted to me that he does love her, but he is so unsure about what to do. Especially after he got rejected by Tauriel.” A knowing hum left her lips, as she let Aragorns words sink in. “I think we should help them out. Find the right course for their future.” She said, as she twirled in her lovers arms.

Hours passed by and you found yourself staring up at the stars above. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” You spun around at the familiar voice. Your heart skipping a beat as you watched Legolas approach you slowly. His golden hair was perfectly partly braided behind his pointy ears. You remember that he once let you braid it when you were children and how soft it felt. Averting your eyes, you looked back up at the night sky. “It indeed is.” Standing beside you, he let his hands rest on top of the railing. Your fingers almost brushed against each other, sending tingles through your body. “(Y/N) I actually have a little present for you.” Tilting your head, you turned toward him curiously. His warm hand grabbed yours, turned it around and placed something small inside it. Looking down, you saw an iridescent pearl. Taking it between two fingers you examined it carefully. A small was drilled through the small sphere and small delicate details were carved into the surface.

“Legolas, this is so beautiful. Did you make this?” You looked up at the elven prince, who bashfully looked away. “Yes, a dwarven friend showed me how to make one of the- of the beads.” He stumbled upon his words. “Thank you so much, I love it!” Wrapping your arms around his torso, you gave him a hug. His scent filled your nose. Like a fresh spring breeze with a hint of lavender. His arms gently wrapped around you, engulfing you in his warmth. You could have stayed like this forever. In his arms, in his warmth. Pulling away, you smiled up at him, a soft red hue dusting your cheeks. “Would you like to braid the bead into my hair?” You asked him, still holding onto his hands while the bead is nestled between both of your palms. “It would be an honour.” His smile made your heart flutter and fill your body with a comfortable warmth. Turning around, you let the elven prince gather a strand of your hair, braid it and finish it off with the beautiful bead he just gifted you. “It looks beautiful in your hair. Like a star encased in a soft blanket.” You smiled at his words, as you turned back around. Oh, how you wish this night would never end.

The next day you were walking through the gardens alone. You were thinking about the celebrations yesterday. Especially how Legolas treated you and even gifted you a handmade bead. You also vividly remember how the pair of you glided over the dance floor to various melodies. And how his touch ignited your body. You could still even feel the imprints of his fingers on your waist. Do normal friends even act like we do? “You seem quite in thought today (Y/N)” Aragorns voice rung in your ears, ripping you away from your daydream. “Hello Aragorn, how come you are spending time without my sister? I thought the both of you would be inseparable after your return.” The man let out a soft chuckle at your joke. “She found company in someone else today.” You raised an eyebrow at that. With whom was she spending time?

“And to be completely honest with you, I was seeking you out for today.” “How come?” “Let’s take a walk around the gardens, shall we?” He smiled at you, deflecting your question. Nodding at his request, the both of you started to walk along the stone path. “Do you know how Legolas came up with the idea of making this bead?” “He just told me that a friend helped him. So, I guess Gimli shared some of his wisdom with him.” “That is partly the truth.” You looked at Aragorn curiously. “What do you mean by that?” A sigh left the man at your question. “I can’t exactly tell you, because it is not my place to. However, I really wish he would just finally admit to his feelings and confess. The same also goes to you.” You suddenly stopped walking and stared at him; mouth slightly ajar. Never would you have ever guessed that Aragorn would call you out for your feelings towards the elven prince.

“I- I have my reasons Aragorn.” “And so does he. But would you rather constantly long for him than actually courting him?” Embarrassment flooded your system, as you looked at the ground. “I just- I am scared of losing him.” A hand on your shoulder made you look up. Aragorn smiled gently at you. “You won’t lose him (Y/N). I think he might actually be on his way by now to change something about your… situation.” Aragorns eyes focused on something behind you, which made you turn around confused. Arwen was descending the few stone steps with Legolas beside her. “Well, what a pleasant surprise, isn’t it?” She said, weaving her arm through Aragorns. You looked at Legolas, who gave you a smile as a greeting. Returning his gesture, the four of you continued your walk through the garden.

“I am happy to see you are still wearing the bead in your hair.” The elven prince broke the silence between you. “Of course I am. You put so much effort into this lovely gift, I will cherish it for the rest of my life.” “I am glad to hear that.” He slowed his pace down, to create some distance between the both of you and the pair in front of you. “(Y/N) there is something I want to talk about with you.” A shiver went down your spine at his words. Did he find out about my feelings? Will he reject me now? Dread flooded your system, as you stared at him waiting for him to continue talking. “Do you know how I came up with the idea of gifting you this bead?” Legolas asked you. You shook your head no. “It is quite simple. Gimli talked about his customs and how similar they were to ours in some aspects. He also mentioned that they normally craft courting beads for their significant other.” Warmth spread over your face and dusted your cheeks in a rosy colour.

“After that I asked him if he could show me how to craft one. Because I wanted to give one to you.” Suddenly he stopped walking and turned toward you. Grabbing your hand gently into his, he let his thumb stroke soft circles over your skin. Your heart beat quickened, as you looked up into his warm eyes. “I want to court you (Y/N). I want to spend my lifetime with yours. I want to be beside you during cold nights as well as warm days. I want to be with you and I want to be yours (Y/N).” Gasping at his words, you squeezed his hands reassuringly. “I never would have expected to hear such beautiful words from you Legolas. My heart has always longed to be with yours and I would love to enter this courtship with you. I want to spend my lifetime with you. I want to be yours and I would love you to be mine.”

Smiling brightly at you, Legolas let go of your hands and placed his gently on your face. His thumb stroked along your reddened cheek, before he leaned in slightly. Your heartbeat quickened as his face got closer to yours. But before your lips could touch, he stopped. “Le I velethril e-guil nîn.” And with those words he closed the gap between you. His rich taste filled your system, as you tilted your head more to the side and let his lips engulf more of you. He was addicting, like a drug. A sweet drug. He tasted like a sunny spring morning. Like the comfort and warmth of sunrays on your skin. Separating, the both of you looked at each other lovingly. “Le melin.” You said, smiling brightly at him before indulging once more in his lips and his embrace, making sure to treasure every single second of it.

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Love Sea Excerpt: Tongrak and Mahasamut's First Time (Ch 5: The Price I Paid)

"Haha," Mahasamut couldn't help but chuckle.

He felt crazy watching someone work, especially since that person wasn't even acknowledging him.

I gave him such a wonderful service, and he didn't even like it. That hurts.

Mahasamut thought, and laughed out loud.

"Quiet, I'm working."

But then, the man who'd been silent for so long spoke calmly without even turning to look at him. The sound of the keyboard continued, causing Mahasamut to pause mid-laugh, even as his lips curled into a wide smile.

He's quite charming in his working mode.

The still, solemn demeanor and focus that seemed to belong to a completely different person only piqued his interest further, making him want to see more of Tongrak's emotions. But he figured he should probably keep quiet if he didn't want to be kicked out of the room.

The thought made his sharp eyes fixate on the fair neck reddening from sunburn, the fair skin smeared with sand from the beach. But the man himself didn't seem to care. Perhaps only he couldn't help but think about how he wanted to bite into that man's neck, and the taste that he'd savored earlier confirmed just how sweet that fair skin was.

Looking any longer might not be a good idea.

It looked like his VIP guest was alright. He was in a hurry to get back to work and leave his little buddy to wither away. Mahasamut shrugged and looked down at his own body, which was initially soaked with seawater but now almost dry, except for the sand covering him. He decided to get up and head to the bathroom.

Just a quick rinse. The room's owner probably wouldn't mind.

---

---

Mahasamut had barely disappeared into the bathroom when the sound of water hitting the tiled floor echoed out. However, what brought the man in front of the screen back to reality wasn't the sound of water, but the last sentence he typed to finish the chapter he'd left.

He'd solved the problem of how to describe the love in this story.

"Phew," and with that, Tongrak let out a sigh of relief.

While the famous writer Tongrak had many romantic works, few knew that he struggled with writing love scenes, and his solution to the problem was... having sex.

Sometimes, it couldn't be solved with just a warm embrace.

But most of the time, that wasn't very effective. Connor was one of the people whose embrace felt warm to Tongrak, but the problem was that he already had a boyfriend. When stuck or when he couldn't grasp the concept of warmth or love, he'd just go to his best friend, snuggle into his embrace, and some ideas would start to flow. But now, that was no longer an option.

And yes, one of the reasons he agreed to go to this island was because... he was tired of the men in the city.

It was so dull that he thought of changing the scenery for his work.

And then he met...

Tongrak turned to glance at the slightly ajar bathroom door.

After completely ignoring the other person in the room, Tongrak saved his work and shut down his laptop. From slow steps, his pace quickened. He pushed the bathroom door open with force and saw a robust, naked figure standing under the rain shower. Thick, wet hair clung to his cheeks, and one hand braced against the wall while the other cradled... his substantially sized shaft.

As those sharp, intense eyes met him, the cascading water made the man look even more dominant, magnifying his dangerous allure.

The man's expression shifted from fierce to his usual teasing smirk.

Mahasamut didn't even care that Tongrak was now inspecting his impressive lower half.

Tongrak secretly thought the guy must be well-endowed, but he hadn't expected it to be this impressive.Whether it was the size or the shape, the veins that stood out from arousal, it was all something he wanted to look at.

"If you keep staring like that, I'm going to start charging," came the teasing voice, drawing honey-colored eyes back to meet his gaze.

Mahasamut wasn't shy about showing off his body.

The guy was so confident that it was almost sickening.

"Usually, when the money's in, you can consider it done. I already gave you a service, and yet here you are, watching my body for free. I'm running at a loss here..."

Thud!

Tongrak didn't wait for the man to finish speaking. His lead body pushed the broad chest until it hit the wall, also bringing himself under the shower. The slender frame pressed close to the broad chest, allowing the sensitive part beneath his pants to press against the hot flesh, feeling the heat between them, and then...

Tongrak swiftly captured Mahasamut's neck and kissed him fiercely.

A tongue licked teasingly over the irritating lips. Tongrak bit down on the lower lip hard enough to almost taste blood. After that, the pretty one pulled back to look into his eyes.

"How much?"

"..."

Mahasamut remained silent. The only sound was that of water droplets hitting the tiled floor.

"How much for letting me see your body just now?"

"..."

"And how much to sleep with you?"

"..."

"How much would it cost for you to take me?"

"..."

Tongrak then asked the final question.

"So, what's your price if I want to buy you?"

Their gazes locked, neither willing to back down.

Strangely, this time, Tongrak didn't have a hint of his usual complaining demeanor. There was only a serious look in his eyes, like a businessman negotiating a deal.

Yet, this seriousness was... sexy.

The once arrogant man was now eagerly seeking an answer to how much it'd cost to be 'taken'.

"... I'm not cheap, you know." Mahasamut finally replied after a long stare, and that turned the serious businessman into a man of passion.

"Money won't be a problem."

At Tongrak's words, it wasn't just one of them who moved first, but both of them closed the distance as if they'd been waiting for this moment all along.

Lips crushed and ground against each other.

Bodies moved close, leaving no space between them.

Hands intertwined, caressed, and stroked each other without restraint.

It was Mahasamut's turn to flip Tongrak's body, pressing him against the wall while his hot mouth continued to suck hungrily and nip. His tongue invaded deeply, tormenting the other without pause for breath, sweeping and pursuing, attacking and pressing until clear liquid seeped and smeared at the corners of their mouths. The sound of their sweet exchange echoed loudly.

The big man pulled away briefly to strip Tongrak's shirt while Tongrak himself quickly discarded his pants with a swift flick.

"Ah, ha... oh, that's good... so good..."

With just a large hand scooping up the pale leg to bring their lower bodies into close contact, Tongrak moaned in satisfaction. He enjoyed the sensation of his sensitive parts rubbing against the larger, hotter area, the scorching heat nearly burning his flesh at the lower abdomen. He liked it so much that he wanted to pull that large part into his mouth.

But today, Mahasamut had other ideas.

"Hold this for me."

Mahasamut grasped Tongrak's hand, pulling it to hold the heated flesh that throbbed between them. Tongrak complied easily, but a single hand wasn't enough to contain them both. Both hands worked together to gather their moist parts, pressing his palm against the visibly larger and longer part of Mahasamut. His hips moved with desire, hot breaths touching the broad chest.

Wide eyes shimmered with emotion, and skin flushed from pale to a spreading red that reached the ears. Now, a hot tongue traced and nipped at his fair skin.

"Ah! You really like to bite, huh? Were you a dog in a past life or something?"

It was then that the larger man used his free hand to grasp the slender neck, tilting the flushing face upward, allowing him to bury his face into the crook of a fair neck. He licked at the marks left by previous bites, eliciting a hoarse moan from Tongrak, who couldn't help but ask, even as he was nearly delirious with... excitement.

He liked it when Mahasamut did this to him, bit him like this, nipped him like this.

It wasn't so violent that it hurt, but it was enough to make his body scream with pleasure.

Mahasamut's gaze flickered for a moment, and Tongrak was certain he saw a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Then...

"Woof."

The big man let out a sound that should have been endearing, but it made Tongrak cry out as a tingling sensation spread through him.

The giant dog, burying its face against the slender chest with just the right amount of muscle, licked the tender nipple that stood erect with a flick of his tongue as if savoring a delicious sweet.

Mahasamut alternated between biting and smoothing with licks, repeating the motion until the area felt numb and swollen, the nipples turning a bright red. The voice grew higher with every moan, hips moving, calling for their flesh to rub together.

Now, it was impossible to tell whose slick fluid filled the palm of Tongrak's hand.

"Mahasamut, suck, suck more, ugh, ah, that's good."

Since he'd already given in, why hide his desires any longer?

When Tongrak played with himself, he enjoyed teasing his nipples hard while slipping a fingertip into his behind, stimulating both above and below. Although it was exceedingly rare for him to be without a partner, what he truly relished was the way Mahasamut would incessantly suck and pull at his nipples as if insatiable.

It was a delicious torment, almost maddeningly good.

Meanwhile, a large hand caressed his back, kneading the soft flesh until fingertips sank into the smooth skin, a touch that made the more prominent man want to squeeze even harder.

"Ah..."

If it were just about thoughts, it wouldn't be Mahasamut. As soon as those sharp eyes saw the person in his embrace pushing his body against him, the adorable body trying to grind him like an animal in heat, the beautiful face flushed red, breathing heavily, sweat glistening across the forehead, he too moved the hand that wasn't busy to turn off the water and back to firmly clench the round buttocks.

It was enough to make Tongrak moan with a trembling voice.

"Play with my insides... do it..."

Just the touch of a fingertip teasing the tender passage he'd been playing with earlier caused it to clench, and the person in his embrace begged with a quivering voice, eyes moist as they looked up at him until...

"Uhh..." their lips met with precise heat.

A fervent kiss that escalated the passion to its peak while the adorable person before him pleaded even more.

"Uhh..."

Mahasamut felt the trembling moan in the other's mouth as soon as his fingertip teased the sweet passage. The suction that seemed to invite him in nearly drove him wild, unable to resist until...

His middle finger slid in as the person in his embrace widened his eyes, writhing, gasping for air close to his lips.

Now, Mahasamut wasn't just growling but roaring.

Who gave your body permission to be this sexy, Mr. Writer?!

Now the soft walls were clenching around his long finger, the searing heat gripping tightly, sucking eagerly just like the person in his embrace, as the long finger curled inward, seeking the spot that made the more petit person in his arms twitch.

"Ah, ahh, uhh, ugh..."

As soon as his lips were free, Tongrak let out a trembling moan, his eyes tightly shut, indulging in the sensation of the probing touch moving in and out of his passage.

Seeing that Tongrak could handle it, a second finger soon followed.

"You are really something," Mahasamut growled.

"Why, am I... sexy... or something...?"

The sexy one squinted his eyes open and licked his own lips fervently, his gaze narrowing, but only for a moment, as the two long fingers stirring inside him that initially stuck close together were now... parting.

"Ah, ah, don't, don't- Mahasamut-ah, ah!"

Damn it!

There were a few times when Mahasamut lost his patience, especially with the pretty man before him, biting his lips and moaning unintelligibly, was clenching around his fingers, forcing him to pull his hand out of that soft channel in one swift motion. He flipped the smooth body to face the wall, his strong knees pushing the slender legs to spread wide.

"Put it in!"

Meanwhile, the small body cried out passionately for the loss of the hot part, disliking the sudden emptiness.

He liked how Mahasamut spread his fingers, liked the thrilling discomfort, liked the tightness that almost split him open, liked the long fingers reaching spots he couldn't reach himself. It was enough to make him beg for the other person to tease his sensitive passage once more.

"!"

But at the sound of his plea, Mahasamut would forcefully push three fingers in all at once. It was fierce, raw, merciless to the point of taking Tongrak's breath away. His legs trembled, his hands braced against the wall, his breaths coming in short gasps, unable to contain the rising desire that edged him to the brink.

"Ah, ahh!"

The long fingers almost completely withdrew, then... slammed back in.

Each time, they hammered insistently at that sensitive spot, bringing him close to the edge, his tender part stubbornly releasing drops of fluid.

Mahasamut couldn't take it anymore either.

He wanted to thrust himself into that sweet, inviting hole so badly.

"Condom."

"Hah... in the bag."

No need for further questions. They understood each other well, and then...

Mahasamut yanked Tongrak's arm, pulling him back into the bedroom, pushing the smooth body to fall onto the bed while he himself walked over to the open suitcase.

"The front one," Tongrak called out with a trembling voice.

The tall figure took only a few seconds to find the box of condoms that had... every size imaginable.

Mahasamut quickly grabbed one that fit him, but as soon as he turned back...

He felt the urge to spank a petite body.

Who'd have thought that Mr. Perfect, someone like Tongrak, would be on all fours on the bed, legs spread wide, hands bracing against the soft mattress, exposing every inch of his bare body, even the twitching tightness that was eagerly awaiting?

"Hurry, Mahasamut, hurry," the slender figure urged with a quivering, breathy voice, legs spreading even wider.

Smack!

"Did you just spank... Ahhh!"

Tongrak was about to curse in shock when suddenly, a large hand slapped his soft buttocks. But before he could finish his sentence, the sting from the slap was nothing compared to the intense heat that was pushing in, making him feel unbearably full, almost bursting at his very core.

"Wait!! Wait! You're too big, you... ugh!"

The deep penetration brought tears to the brink of his eyes. His fair hands reached for the strong thighs in an attempt to restrain, but it only spurred the larger man to thrust deeper, causing Tongrak to clutch the sheets, his face digging into the soft mattress, his breaths echoing throughout the room.

It was so tight.

"Can you take it?"

"I don't know, Mahasamut. I don't know, ah!"

At this point, he knew nothing, his mind was completely blank.

But when Mahasamut moved...

"!"

A scream tore from Tongrak's throat at full volume.

The initial pain from the size was immense, but it also meant there wasn't an inch left untouched, not a space left unfilled. Every craving, every tingling sensation shot straight through his chest with each hot thrust... deep... into the deepest part.

"Ah, ugh, huuuh!"

Now, within the luxurious room, there were only the moans and low growls of two men, mingling with the raw sound of flesh against flesh in a strong rhythm. The temperature in the room soared, rendering the air conditioning useless, but why would Mahasamut care when the sight before him was far more captivating?

The stark white expanse of a handsome man's back stretched out before him, beads of sweat seeping out until the hair at the nape of his neck was damp against the smooth skin. Large hands pressed into that back, urging the other to let himself fall flat against the bed, with only the beautiful arch of his hips raised high, allowing him to indulge his desires.

It was so enticing that Mahasamut leaned down to lick the sweat at that smooth neck, something he had longed to do.

"Ugh!"

"Huh, ugh!"

As the hips met each thrust with full force, the soft buttocks pressed tightly against his abdomen. He could feel the intense twitching of the person beneath him, who jerked violently. Fair hands reached out to grasp his thighs and clung tightly, hips tilting higher, while his one large hand braced against the headboard, the other reaching to cradle the lovely, soaked part that signaled that Tongrak... had already climaxed.

"Hah, hah."

The person in his embrace gasped, his body trembling as if consciousness was slipping away in the aftermath of reaching heaven.

Then, a flushed face turned to look at him through tears, eyes still adrift in the blissful moment. This prompted him not to tease Tongrak with a 'You finish so easily, don't you?' Instead, he kissed him to soothe and comfort him.

It seemed Tongrak himself hadn't expected to finish so easily.

"Ah, ugh."

Warm lips pressed against a gentle, comforting kiss, contrasting with the lower body's movements that quickened, urging him on to match the rhythm of the beauty who'd reached the climax before him. And that taught the southern man something new.

With a face contorted in pleasure, a throat filled with moans, and a body twitching below, this person enjoyed him plunging deep even after cumming.

Damn!

The larger man growled low in his throat, eyes blazing with passion. This was almost maddening, but the discovery only made him more curious.

How to kiss and touch to make this person melt in his embrace?

That was the thought of the one thrusting his body hard, hands now shifting to lock around Tongrak's shoulders, pulling him close, listening to the sweet moans whispered close to his cheek, and that...

Mahasamut felt the tension, his hands clenched tight, his body taught with strain, and then... he released.

Mahasamut shut his eyes, pulling himself back from the blissful sensation he'd just experienced. When he opened them again, he intended to press a kiss onto those beautifully colored lips.

"If you're done, then take it out."

But before he could act on his desire, Tongrak raised a hand to cover his mouth, panting slightly but... with a cold tone in his voice.

"I need to get back to work. If you're done, then take that thing out already."

The gesture made Mahasamut want to smack the older man once or twice.

Geez... Just moments ago, he was begging for me, and now that it's over, I'm being kicked to the curb.

Part of him wanted to tease a little, but maybe because he'd already gotten more than he expected today, the tall figure clenched his teeth and slowly pulled himself away, looking at the trembling face that was still affected by the fiction that had occurred.

"As you command."

What else could he say when his employer had given the order?

"Do I have to leave right now?"

"Yes, why would you stick around after you're finished? You can go."

"Kicking me out right after we're done, huh?" The big man chuckled.

Tongrak didn't seem to care. As soon as he collapsed onto the bed, he pulled the blanket over himself and commanded, "Take the condom and throw it outside, then lock the door."

"No goodbye hug?"

"Get out."

When teased, Tongrak looked up with a stern voice, making the other laugh softly. He dressed in his sandy clothes from the bathroom and returned with the evidence of their encounter. His sharp eyes glanced at the man lying in the middle of the bed, but before leaving...

"Do you want me to clean up? I have long fingers, you know."

That's when Tongrak threw a pillow at him, still not lifting his head from the thick blanket.

"I told you to get out!"

"Okay, okay, see you tomorrow."

Mahasamut willingly left the room, making sure to lock the door behind him.

When he heard the door close and the lock click, the person on the bed lifted his head again, revealing a flushed face, moist eyes, and messy hair that could only be described as sexy. And the handsome man cursed to himself...

"Damn it Rak, how could you let him do something like that?!"

As his senses returned, he remembered everything he'd said, and more importantly...

"That was damn good."

The sex this time around was exceptional, easily ranking in the top three experiences of his life. It was so good that he'd almost choked to death trying to suppress the desire for another round. Thinking back on what had happened, he brought his hands up to cover his face.

I think I'm in trouble.

---

---

Content Note:

Tongrak demands Mahasamut take the used condom and throw it away in an outside bin. This is a reference to the events of Love Sand.

Khom is confronted by a homophobic former classmate named Jun. Jun had already run afowl of Connor and Khom, but he makes inquiries among the locals who work at the resort and learns that Connor's trash has been full of used condoms, and Khom had been staying with him most nights.

After Connor leaves the island, Jun attacks Khom in front of a crowded market. He loudly outs Khom as gay, a secret Khom religiously kept from everyone, including his family. Jun then beats Khom half to death, with the crowd only standing there watching, some making faces at Khom.

Mahasamut finds Khom in the hospital and helps him flee to a college dorm Khom has on the mainland. He also tracks down Jun and beats him severely, then forces him to crawl to Khom's parents and beg forgiveness.

Tongrak is very aware of what Khom has gone through, and in the Love Sea show as well as novel, you see many gestures by Tongrak to obscure or hide his sexual relationship with Mahasamut, such as when he tells Mahasamut to throw the used condom away in a public trash can. He knows using the in-room trashbin was what led to Khom's attack.

[splintersintime]

As someone who's a fan of Good Omens (the show and the book), in the wake of the revelations about Neil Gaiman I want to say that the victims' wellbeing is more important than any closure from the completion of Series Three. If the showrunners find a way to remove Gaiman and complete it without any input from him, that would be a blessing. But if it never sees the light of day, I'll accept it.

We had one amazing first series that was based on the novel which Terry Pratchett's daughter has stated was 75% his work. The second series ... well, no matter how good you think it is (or isn't), it feels like an impostor now - a way to string out the story and keep fans on the hook with a cliffhanger ending before rewarding us with a final series based on some alleged ideas that the two authors once had for a sequel. For me, I think I can be OK without it.

I'm angry and disgusted with Gaiman but I realised that I don't feel sad. For his victims, yes. For other fans who lost faith in an author they loved, yes. But not for myself as a fan. Because as good a writer as he was, his own books were never, unlike Terry Pratchett's, up there with my favourites. And that's because, ironically, Gaiman fails at writing happy endings.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Nights of Endless Love Part 26

A fic set in Vegas in 1971 at the start of Elvis' first residency that year, where he meets a Vegas showgirl who isn't interested. Smutty, fluffy, angsty drama.

To catch up with the other parts, go here. As always, thanks go to @vintagepresley for the idea in the first place and continued inspo! And many thanks to @eapep for her editing skills!

18 and over only.

Pairing: Elvis + OC - Mia, a Vegas showgirl

Wordcount: 3.3K ish

TW: Drug abuse, health issues, angry!Elvis, a little bit of violence, crying, oral (f receiving), then much fluff.

A/N: This is the final part! I fully sobbed when I finished writing this. It's been a real labour of love and I will miss Mia and Elvis and their little world. Not to say that we might not go back and see how they're doing from time to time, but for now this is the end of their story.

“I’m so tired. Elvis this schedule is impossible.” Mia collapses down onto the sofa, still in her stage outfit. They’re more than half way through the stint in Tahoe, and she only has a two hour break before she’s due back on stage again. Things have got worse since she started going on with him to do a song or two in the middle of his set. 

“It’s not impossible. You just need one of these shots,” he looks over to Dr Nick. “Nick, give her a shot.”

Dr Nick moves warily over to Mia. She pulls a face and puts her hand out to stop him. “Dr Nick do not give her a shot. She has autonomy over her own body.”

Elvis is standing over the other side of the room, still in his jumpsuit, sodden with sweat. One of his legs is jiggling about and he's fiddling incessantly with one of his big rings. Two of the tell-tale signs that Nick had been in here giving him a shot before the second show. As if she didn’t know already.

“Well don’t blame me if you can’t hack it.”

Mia stands up, annoyed now. “If I can’t hack it? You’re the one taking enough pharmaceuticals to floor an elephant.”

Dr Nick moves from foot to foot awkwardly. Mia wasn’t often in the room when he was treating Elvis, but he’d already got the impression she wasn’t keen on all of the drugs. He isn’t keen on all of the drugs either, but Elvis will only find someone else if he stops prescribing. He’s never seen them fight before, and he would like to get out before it turns nasty. He knows Elvis has a temper.

Elvis starts moving towards her in that ominous way he has, his lip curling, blowing furious air out of his nose. “I need them. This is none of your damn business woman.”

“None of my business! I’m only living with you and engaged to marry you!”

“Well maybe you need to learn to do as you’re told.” He grabs one of her arms and starts trying to manoeuvre her towards Nick, who is looking quite alarmed by this point. Mia wriggles and tries to get him off her. She sees his other hand coming to grab her and aims a kick at one of his shins. “Ow!” He almost shrieks. She uses the opportunity to pull her arm free and then slaps him across the face for good measure.

“You are not the boss of me!” She screams.

“You come back here,” he hisses as she stands, panting in front of him. 

She thinks that she hasn’t actually gone anywhere and he could grab her from here if he really wanted to.

“I’m not having a damn shot, Elvis. I’m sick of seeing you take all this stuff. I’m sick of waking up in the night and checking if you’re still breathing. I’m sick of worrying about you all the time. I want you to rest,” she finds herself faltering, holding back tears. “I love you.”

He closes the gap between them, and for a moment she can’t tell if he’s going to kiss her or hit her. He pushes her the few steps back it takes to hit the wall, and then his mouth is on hers, his tongue pushing insistently into her mouth, his hands grabbing her arms and pressing them against the wall next to her head. Somewhere that sounds like a million miles away she hears the clunk of the door. Nick must’ve finally had enough.

“Baby I love you too,” he says, when he finally comes up for air. “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

He starts slowly unzipping her catsuit, kissing her newly exposed skin as he goes. He stops briefly to pay her nipples some attention, but it’s clear where he’s headed, as he presses kisses to her stomach and slides the zipper down all of the way to where it finishes between her legs. She gasps when he first licks her clit, firmly and repeatedly, looking down to see him on his knees in front of her, worshipfully. His tongue dips down lower, tasting her properly, his lips and chin slick with her juices. She whines, desperate for more contact.

“Put your leg on my shoulder baby,” he says, the words buzzing against her.

She does, feeling his fingers spreading her cunt so he can better access it, lapping at her, pushing his tongue inside. His thumb moves to rub her clit as he carries on licking, the fingers of his other hand digging into the skin of her thigh and ass. She moans, grabbing her breasts and rubbing her nipples. She’s so turned on even just at the sight of him kneeling in front of her like this, burying his face in her cunt, licking and sucking like his life depends on it.

He moves to suck on her clit now, looking up at her as he does it, his hair soaked with sweat from the show earlier and her arousal all over his face. He slides a finger inside her and curls it slightly, waiting to hear her reaction. She groans, feeling him hit that spot inside of her and wriggling to try and get more contact from his tongue.

“Hold my head Mimi. Do whatever you want with me.”

She shivers at the words. She loves it when he tells her to use him like this. 

“Another finger…please,” she just about manages.

He nods and slips a second finger inside her.

She reaches down and takes hold of his head, fingers digging into his damp hair. She starts to roll her hips so that her clit rubs against his tongue, holding onto him gently and then as the pleasure starts to build she finds herself gripping him desperately, pushing her cunt into his face, not really caring anymore if he can breathe. She’s so close now, all she can think of is reaching that high. As her orgasm washes over her she grips his head even more tightly, crying out and feeling tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes and cries, finally letting him go and sliding down the wall, somehow getting her leg off his shoulder and ending up sitting in a little pile at the bottom of it.

“Fuck, honey.” Elvis is beet red, and he’s taking great gasping breaths.

She looks over at him, and realises she might’ve actually been suffocating him. “Oh shit. Are you alright?”

“Honey. You’re crying.” 

Mia laughs, even though she’s still crying. “I’m crying, you’re nearly suffocated, this is all going great.”

He moves to try and kiss her and she holds her hands up in front of her face. “Ahh. Wash your face!”

He laughs and grabs her arms, pinning them to her sides. “No,” he replies, kissing her on the mouth. She can feel the slickness of his lips, covered in her juices, and taste herself on his tongue. “If you’re going to smother me the least you can do is kiss me afterwards.”

She laughs, and then he pulls her into his arms, leaning against the wall himself. “Baby why were you crying? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“I just felt overwhelmed. I love you so much and I really want this to work, but it’s just fucking exhausting. I’m sorry I nearly killed you.”

He chuckles into her ear. “It’s okay, I asked for it. In more ways than one. And I love it when you’re so uninhibited like that, especially all over my face.”

She squeals. It smells like sex and sweat all around her. They really need to shower before the next show.

He nuzzles her neck. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have got mad at you. You’re right, we can’t carry on like this. But I don’t know what else to do.”

***

They somehow finish the Tahoe commitment but tell Jerry and the Colonel that there’s no way they can keep up that level of work. It was what they’d suspected would happen, and although the Colonel has his views on how many shows Elvis and Mia should do, for once he keeps his mouth shut. Jerry has been a good influence on him from that perspective. He’s learning how to diversify, has even thought of taking on one or two more clients. Jerry suggests one show a night is more reasonable, tours could be longer but there would be more gaps between dates and fewer residencies. Mia and Elvis both agree, and leave the meeting somewhat relieved. 

Mia knows the amount of shows isn’t the only problem though, and so she decides to broach something with Elvis as she watches him rubbing his belly and grimacing.

“What do you think about checking yourself into a hospital?”

Elvis almost jumps. “What? There’s nothing wrong with me!”

Mia puts her hand on top of his. “You’re not in any pain just now?”

He sighs. “Okay, but… hospital?”

“Please. For me. I’ll stay in there with you. We can order in whatever food you want. But I think you need to go and get checked out, and… maybe you need to come off some of what you’ve been taking.” 

She’s very nervous about the last part of the sentence. He’s never taken interference in the drugs he takes very well in the past. She had thought she wouldn’t interfere in that part of his life, but the shows at Tahoe showed her that she had to. She watches his face twist into a variety of different expressions, as if he’s having a not-very-internal battle with himself. 

“You’ll stay with me the whole time? Even if they want to do things to me? Look for stuff? You’ll be there? You promise?” He’s starting to sound a little panicked, but it seems like the agreeable Elvis has won this time. 

“Yes. I won’t let them throw me out of the room. I’ll be there with you the whole time I promise.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay then.”

***

Mia keeps her word. They check into the hospital together and she’s there holding his hand as they do blood tests, check his blood pressure, put drops in his eyes. When they tell him he needs a colonoscopy he looks at her and she tells him it will be okay and she will hold his hands and talk to him the whole time. He nods like a frightened child but does whatever she says. They slowly take him off the complicated mixture of pharmaceuticals he’s been taking since he was in the army, working out exactly what he needs rather than what he wants. Mia stays up a lot of the nights, lying in the bed with him, stroking his hair and wiping his brow as he sweats and twists and turns uncomfortably in his sleep. With the best will in the world, his withdrawal is still horrible and he begs her to let him take something for it, crying in her arms. 

A week after they first got there, he’s sat up in bed as she lays dozing after another tumultuous night. 

“Hi there.” A voice Mia can’t quite place, deep and sonorous. She tries to ignore it, but Elvis’ response makes that impossible.

“Lawrence! It’s been so long!” 

Elvis is feeling good for the first time since he checked into the hospital, and seeing Larry has made him genuinely excited, dropping the book he was reading and sitting up properly in bed. All of this jostles Mia so much she sits up again with a groan. 

“How’re you doing, man?” Larry asks, sitting down on the armchair in the room. 

“Great. So much better. They’ve taken me off a lot of things and… I do feel good for a change, Larry. They’re bringing me all these fresh fruits and vegetables and Mia is helping me decide which ones I like.”

He looks over at Mia, whose hair is absolutely everywhere, eyes barely open, looking like she needs to sleep for a week. He strokes her face. “Baby, why don’t you go to the room across the hall and get some proper sleep?”

The hospital staff had reserved them another room in case Mia wanted to sleep somewhere separately sometimes, but she hasn’t left his side for the whole week. 

“You sure?” She replies, groggily. 

“Of course, Angel. Larry can keep me company for a while and you look like you need to sleep somewhere comfy.”

She nods and shuffles off across the corridor. 

“I hear you’re getting married?”

Elvis grins. “Yeah. When the divorce is finalised with Cilla, we certainly are.”

“I’m so pleased for you Elvis. Things really seem to be turning out well lately.”

Elvis is beaming. Things were turning out well. He has an idea to make them even better. “Say, you wanna be my best man?”

Larry is taken aback. They hadn’t been in touch much recently, a hair cut here and there and a few chats, but nothing like the intensity of their relationship previously. He’d been wondering if they were just drifting apart. 

“I’d be honoured!”

Elvis reaches across to shake the other man’s hand, firmly. “Wonderful. I’m sure Mia will be pleased too.”

***

Mia had never thought she’d be so nervous on her wedding day. What is there to be nervous about? Fluffing up the words? Tripping over her dress and falling on her face? Actually, both of those seem like pretty bad options. She smooths her dress down and looks at herself in the mirror. Life on the road hasn’t exactly stopped the ageing process. If anything, it’s accelerated it. She had her grey hairs dyed back to brown in readiness for today, there’s a lot of strong elastic holding her not-so-little belly in and a face full of make-up hides her tired eyes and wrinkles. But she finds somehow that she doesn’t mind so much any more. Elvis’ hair is still white and he is completely unapologetic about it. He gets his reading glasses out when he needs to and he ignores the jibes from the guys. They worship one another’s bodies, no matter whether they find wrinkles or extra fat there. Elvis is particularly delighted by the fact that she’s put on a little extra weight on her ass, kissing and kneading it at every opportunity. Every morning he tells her how beautiful she is, or sings Mia In The Morning, no matter how many times she hits him with a pillow and tells him to shut up. The tests at the hospital showed that he has a problem with his intestine that makes his belly swell from time to time, and Mia makes sure to show him how much she loves him whenever it happens. He’s given up trying to push her away when she pushes his shirt up and kisses him all over. In fact, he almost looks forward to it.

Mia smiles at her reflection. It had been one helluva year. When she’d started 1971, performing on that stage in the Tropicana, she had no idea things would turn out like this. That she’d be getting ready to marry one of the most famous men in the world. That she’d be so in love with him.

“You ready?” Amanda asks. Mia had to spend an entire drunken day catching her up on everything that had happened over the past couple of months, but she was the only person she wanted as her maid of honour. 

“As I’ll ever be.”

Her dad walks into the room, blinking back tears at how beautiful she looks in her dress. 

“Time to go, pumpkin?”

Mia nods and takes his arm. Elvis had encouraged her to get back in contact with her parents, so she’d invited them to the show when they visited her hometown. She was surprised when they came, and even more surprised how proud they were of her. She suspects it has something to do with Elvis, who put on the world’s biggest charm-offensive when he met them, and who of course they loved instantly. Her dad was over the moon when she asked him to give her away at the wedding. 

She can feel herself shaking as they walk slowly down the aisle to meet the man standing at the end of it. Elvis is shaking too, he’s asked Larry approximately 15 times already whether he still has the rings, and until he saw her for himself a few moments ago, he had completely convinced himself that Mia wasn’t coming. The walk is interminable for both of them, Elvis sweating and worrying about stuttering his vows and Mia concentrating on not falling over her own dress. When she finally gets there and they turn to face one another, holding each other’s hands tightly, they both let out shaky breaths. And then they realise what they’ve done and both giggle. It’s like the rest of the world completely disappears when they look at one another. Until, that is, the celebrant starts to speak. 

“In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together to witness the marriage of Elvis and Mia, to pray for God’s blessing on them, to share their joy and to celebrate their love.”

Despite their fears, the ceremony goes smoothly. Larry hands over the rings. No-one declares a reason they can’t get married, and neither of them mess up their vows. Elvis stutters a little but it just makes Mia love him more, if that were possible. They kiss passionately when they’re told they’re now man and wife, and little Lisa-Marie is the first person to start throwing confetti. Mia briefly wonders if it’s odd to have your husband’s ex-wife as one of your bridesmaids, but then decides she doesn’t care. Priscilla is still such a good friend to her, she’d even helped to pick out Mia’s dress. 

The party that follows goes on well into the night. It starts with a first dance to actual Jackie Wilson performing (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher, and sometime around midnight Mia finds herself still in her wedding dress, trying to teach Red West how to rumba. 

“Never thought you’d last, you know.” He says into her ear as she tries in vain to get him to stop standing on her feet. 

“Oh really?” She laughs back, pushing his hip with hers. 

“No. Thought he’d have enough of you being so bossy.”

“You should be concentrating or you won’t get any better.”

Red looks up at her. “I’m not really trying to get better, I’m enjoying you manhandling me if I’m honest.”

Mia bursts out laughing, shoving him back and away from her. “I’ll tell my husband you said that.”

“You’ll tell your husband he said, what?” 

Elvis is suddenly behind her, his arms around her waist. She leans back against him and smirks. “Red West is trying to get close to me, husband.”

“Oh, is that so, wife?”

“Hmm yes. But I wouldn’t worry about him, I’m not interested.” She spins around in his arms and puts hers around his neck. “I just feel sorry for him.”

Elvis looks up at her and chuckles, humming with pleasure as she leans her forehead down against his. “He is pathetic, you’re right.”

Red rolls his eyes and huffs, wandering off to find someone else to annoy. 

“How is my beautiful wife?” Elvis asks her as they sway back and forth to the music. 

“I’ve never been better. How is my handsome husband?”

“I’ve never been happier. Today has been perfect. You’re perfect. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I can’t wait either, lover.”

The band starts playing From A Jack To A King.

From a Jack to a King / From loneliness to a wedding ring / I played an Ace and I won a Queen / And walked away with your heart

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog

[fandomxo00]

King Of My Heart - Part 1 - The Wedding - Hugh Jackman fanfiction

You finally get marry the love of your life, Hugh

characters: hugh jackman x plus size!oc!Ainsley

word count: 12.8k

warnings: hugh's kids are in this, using different names tho, pregnant reader, eventually smut, daddy!dom kink, degradation, rough foreplay sex, teasing, oral!F+M, cockwarming ,lots of teasing and foreplay, really leant into this lmao

You didn't think that you were ever going to find love, when you turned 19 you came to that conclusion later on. But then you remained basically single for the next ten years. Focusing on your mental health and career. You knew that you wanted to start a family soon so you maybe have to dive back into the dating pool. You weren't completely single the last ten years, off and on surface-level relationships, then you had friends with benefits. Off and on, Miles truly was just one of your best friends, the two of you stopped having sex after he met his now fiancé, Leilani. It was just a simple conversation that the sex was over, but Miles also taught you about how a woman should be treated, in bed and out of it. 

You grew up reading fanfiction and as you've progressed your writing career, you wrote a lot about sex for a girl that hasn't had a lot of it. You'd let men treat you like shit, and because you wouldn't go in with real expectations of a real-life interaction, you just naively went along. It didn't help that a lot of the men you have slept with have been poor in bed and didn't even care to make you orgasm. With Miles, it was like seeing how many times and the dirtiest way to make each other come. 

Miles was a good man, but you were happy that nothing came of that relationship. Though he did offer to be your sperm donor before he meant Leilani. You just didn't think that would work out now. Little did you know it was all falling into place, when you published your first book. The last thing you expected was for it to get picked up as a movie. You had wormed your way into the production to make sure they didn't mess up the plot or characters. Little did you know you would see Hugh Jackman at the audition. The two main characters weren't any older than you, Erik and Matilda. But you still didn't expect such a well-known actor to show up at the casting of your movie. 

You felt an instant attraction because he was Hugh fucking Jackman coming in to play a man that you wrote as literally the perfect dad and just guy. His character is a big part of the story, as he was a single father but he'd done a lot to try and be closer to Erik. You described the character as attractive in your book, Matilda even thinking he was handsome. Though she chose the younger man to pursue, you don't think you would've. 

Most of the men your age were nothing like precious fictional Erik, and real men like him were few and far between. So, you found yourself wanting an older man all the way back in your early twenties. 

It didn't help that you thought Hugh was gorgeous. The two of you had clicked right away, that beaming smile on his face getting to your heart. When you went home and called Miles you talked about how they were turning your book into an indie film and for some reason, Hugh Jackman wanted a role. He told you that he was now divorced and that you should go for it. You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Are you nuts?" 

You were also lucky to know that the director was a huge fan of your book, so she wanted to hear all of your ideas, preferences, and directions. You even confessed you wanted to be a director, you just didn't have any experience, "You don't get any experience until someone gives you a chance." That meant you got pretty close with the four main characters, including Erik's brother. Erik's dad was kinda based on your dad, though verily different. The way Hugh embodied the character made you actively blush. At first, you started avoiding him, not excessively but enough that he confronted you. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! Of course not." You flushed, looking away from him. "I mean I bet you hear this all the time but I kinda have a crush on you." You blurted, letting out a very barely there squeak of humiliation. Avoiding his eyes, you looked around, but Hugh stepped forward, his hand coming to your shoulder. The feeling of his large palm encompassing your skin as his other hand came to your chin. Lifting your eyes to his light hazel ones, the sunlight beaming on him. The faint highlights of his hair, he was growing out his beard and there were gray splotches along his jaw. You never really liked when men had beards but then you met Hugh Jackman. You wanted to feel it everywhere, you flushed at the dirty thoughts that only his touch caused.

"I'd admit I have a bit of a crush even at my age." Hugh grinned over at you, as you couldn't control the giggle that erupted from your mouth, your hand coming up to your mouth as the sides of your eyes crinkled. 

This was just the beginning of your relationship, getting closer together and helping him learn his character. Eventually, towards the end of filming, you finally had sex in his trailer. The two of you had been handsy all day, with hidden touches, secret kisses behind curtains or sets, trying not to get caught. Slowly falling in love with each other, going on press afterward with full tension and fans trying to ship the two of you. At a premiere, Hugh had been seen pretty close to you, his hand going to your back. There were pictures of the two of you looking at each other when the other was looking away. 

You did just a bit of press for the movie, then rolled into the press he had to do for Deadpool and Wolverine, and you went out with him. Ryan was thankful you had gotten Hugh out of the house; he'd been sleeping on his couch for a couple of weeks. He'd been coming to your apartment most nights, the two of us not spending much time apart. Then you went to the Chiefs game with Hugh, Ryan, Blake, and Taylor. The five of you going out after, getting to know celebrities you never thought you'd even talk to. When the reality finally set in for him, you really allowed yourself to trust his people. 

Eventually, the two of you bought a house in upstate New York, and the night you moved in he proposed to you in front of the fireplace sitting in his arms as you sat on the ground with a blanket underneath you. He slipped the ring on your finger before making love to you right there. 

You didn't want a huge wedding, but you did want it to be special. Both you and Hugh came up with a list of people who you wanted to invite, and you'd ask his daughter to be one of your maid of honor and he'd ask his son to be one of his groomsmen. Because you've gotten somewhat close with both of them, they like to come stay at your house in Skaneateles. 

You and Liz, his daughter, had bonded over crafts actually, the two of you didn't have to talk to have a good time together. When Hugh was away for different things, she would turn up to the house. You'd take her out shopping, or making food together. Then she spoke to her dad about wanting to stay at the house more often. So you helped her decorate her room and when you asked her to be your bridesmaid, you couldn't help but cry. You had a very deep connection with your cousin, she always called you her, 'Little', she'd carry you around on her hip in high school and some people thought you were hers. You don't know what your life would be without her. And you saw that in Liz, the two of you having an instant trust with each other. You knew that you were never going to be her mom, but you didn't want to be either.  

Carmen, his son, was a little harder to bond with because he was in his early twenties and his independence was very important to him. In a way that Liz hadn't quite grown into yet. He also didn't want you to replace his mom, which you understood. You had a stepdad that you hated and wished every day that your mom hadn't married him. But you knew that you would pressure it, that you needed to lean off giving any unsolicited advice. You also spoke to Hugh about it, you were trying to not overthink it, and he told you to just be patient. 

Then for Liz's 20th birthday, Hugh took her, Carmen, and you to Disneyland. For the most part, you were able to stay out of the public eye but there were fans, most of them didn't come up to Hugh, he wore a hat and sunglasses, which helped sometimes. He then posted for her birthday with pictures all of you had taken. You'd finally been able to kind of bond with Carmen while standing in line and you let them play heads up with your phone. 

Liz and your older cousin, Cassidy had gone out dress shopping with you, it had taken a while to find the one but when you did, you started crying. She had come over and hugged you, as you wiped the tears away while you looked in the mirror. You never thought this was going to happen to you. You had even mourned the idea of ever getting married, but here you were. A gorgeous meaningful ring that Hugh had chosen perfectly. It was a small oval diamond, a few smaller ones on either side on a golden band. 'Sunshine', the nickname he always called you, was scribed on the inside of the ring. Little did you know the band had 'Jackman' scribed on the inside. You had even picked out his ring, bringing your father's ring to try and find one similar to it but not exact. When you found the right one you just knew. 

The two of you needed to take time out to get a marriage license, you planned on going to the local town clerk, however, you needed a witness. Luckily, Liz was over that week, and she went out with you two to get it. Before going out to eat to celebrate, unfortunately, the paps found you, but Hugh held your leg, trying to calm your anxiety as he rubbed his thumb against your thigh. You struggled to eat when they were around, your anxiety getting the best of you. 

Hugh had been taking time off with the wedding rolling in, the two of you having a lot of sex. The anticipation for the wedding drove the two of you crazy, and you just loved him like crazy. With all the sex you were having you forgot to wrap it up, but you didn't really mind. 

You've talked to him about wanting children of your own because Liz won't need your and Hugh's support forever. Liz had brought her boyfriend over frequently; Hugh couldn't do much because she was an adult. You also told him she needed privacy, having a conversation with her the night before. Hugh loved you on a different level, especially with the way you were his children. You were incredibly patient and the idea of you giving you babies? He already wanted to give you the world, something you wouldn't easily accept. Being very hesitant with money, you just took from everyone and everything, never taking responsibility for your impulsive spending. But one day you cut down, rarely letting anyone loan you money or spend money on you. Except for rare occasions for holidays or birthdays, you didn't ask for much, usually essentials. 

When you met Hugh he let you indulge in spending, giving you a limit on a card for emergencies, that it'll always be loaded with money. You had his and his' assistants' number if you ever needed it. When you brought up your anxiety around money, he'd look into your eyes, his hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face as his shoulder bumped into yours. "Baby, what's mine is yours and what's your-."

"Is mine." You sighed, looking up into his eyes, your knees to your chest as another arm wrapped around you to pull you closer. "I-I just don't want to spend too much and make you feel like I'm using you-sometimes I'm really impulsive so-."

"Baby-." Hugh hushed, his other hand coming up to your jaw as he gazed into your eyes with a dreamy, sweet look in the shades of hazel green eyes. "If we have an issue, we'll talk about it, yeah?"

"God, you know you're a dream boat?" You murmured, as your hand came up to comb through his hair. 

You wound up having a doctor's appointment about a month out from your wedding. What you thought was a simple check-up, which it seemed like the whole time. But then you got a call a couple of hours later because your blood had come back and you were pregnant.

So with only a few weeks to spare, Hugh went Ob-gyn with you. You got to the building, had to pee in a cup to confirm your pregnancy before getting set up in a room, and they went over your medical history. They were able to do an abdominal ultrasound, so you lifted your shirt as the tech put gel on your stomach. You wince slightly as you smile over at Hugh, you are thankful for the blanket you had over half of you, plus the warmth of Hugh's hand on your shoulder. You were in the second month of your pregnancy, or 9 weeks along, so you didn't see much. But a bright smile came over the technician's face as she moved the TV towards you, pointing at the little circle on the screen. The sound of a fast heartbeat started sounding through the room. A very full feeling came over your heart, as you started crying. Hugh moved down to kiss your forehead, a tear of his own, dropping from his eyes. 

You were very focused on the pregnancy the next couple of days before your cousin reminded you about your honeymoon planning. You were going to plan your trip to Colorado, the plan was to be high and hang out in the city but now you agreed to go stay up in the mountains. All you wanted was a comfy place with a good view, and Hugh had found the perfect spot. Being so invested in the pregnancy the wedding was growing closer and closer. Your cousin had stepped in to be your wedding planner, she had done this a few times before. Though she hasn't done it in years, not even wanting to do anything for her own wedding. But she joked that she'd come out of her retirement for her 'toots'. 

When you turned 18, she was your safe place, you grew up in a pretty chaotic environment with an undiagnosed narcissistic mother and a father with undiagnosed autism. Which resulted in your mother cheating and your father getting angry, both of them numbing the pain with alcohol. Something that you decided to stay far away from when you were an adult. Drinking on special occasions and usually never enough to make you drunk. You'd rather be blazed as fuck than drunk. But your cousin also gave you structure, something you crave, helping you in every way she can, even to the point where she pushed herself too hard. The two of you coming together to set boundaries and grow closer. 

Before you knew it your wedding was here, the day before the wedding was the rehearsal day. Your house was filled with guests, your bridal party, and some friends. Your best friend came up to hang out with you in the morning, and Liz and your cousin went for coffee. You got ready for rehearsal dinner; you didn't really have to do much more until 3 when people started arriving. You were going to chill, take your time, and just spend time with the ones you love. You were so happy to see your dad and his wife arrive. You were 19 when you cut your mom off and never came to a point where you wanted her around. But you still sent her an invite, knowing that even though you weren't on good terms, you wanted your mom here. She would never be a part of your life in the way you wanted because of her toxic behavior, but she still meant the world to you. You wanted to hug her and see her, it'd been over ten years. So when your mom walked through the doors, tears came to your eyes. A bright smile covered her face, her brown eyes always reminded you of your own. You'd always thought you looked so much like your mom. 

All of your siblings had arrived, they had also met Hugh two Christmass' ago. Hugh paid for your family to come, it wasn't what you expected, that was the moment you knew you were going to marry him, even that early in the relationship. You always wanted to host and also wanted to bring your half-oldest brother, his wife, your sister, Hailey, and her husband. 

You were so happy to see everyone, greeting Hugh's close family members you met over the holidays. You were not the social type so not having to be constantly greeting everyone was a lot, eventually, Hugh took over as you retreated to go take a breather. "God, I need a hydroxyzine."

"Got one for ya." Your cousin said, handing you one as you grabbed your water and drank. You breathed out as you sat down in your rehearsal dress as Hugh came in shortly after to check on you. Coming to sit next to you on the couch, his hands coming to yours as he looked down into your eyes.

"We got this, yeah?" He murmured, you smiled over at him, all of the anxiety meant nothing while you were looking into his eyes. Your hand came up to move in close and kiss him. 

"I love you."

"Love you sunshine, so much." Hugh breathed as he kissed your cheek. 

You were trying not to cry as you watched your cousin set everything up, directing everyone to their places. Coming down by the lake to the setup of the arch, you were facing the trees but if you turned your head to the left, you'd see the shiny blue water. Hugh's hand rested on your back as you looked at the view that you'd hopefully look at the rest of your life with this man. You felt tears come to your eyes at the happiness you felt, your hand reaching up for Hugh's face, he had a twinkle in his eyes, his face stuck in a small grin as you gazed down at you. 

The two of you worked with your cousin to place everyone, later in the day, Hugh's best friends showed up. The two of you practiced walking down the aisle and then Ryan and Liz, your other best friend and Miles, your cousin and one of Hugh's brothers, his other brother, Ian paired with your sister-in-law, and Carmen with your sister. You pretended to do your vows, and he scooped you up in his arms, kissing you, as you giggled against his mouth. Your cheeks warming, it was hard to be in front of so many people. But you loved them all and felt relief in that as you put your arms around his shoulders, he gazed down at you with those glowing eyes that made butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

After the rehearsal, the two of you snuck off while everyone got food from inside. Hugh's lips were on yours so fast when you got behind the door of your room. His hands skimming down your waist, feeling your curves underneath his fingers made him growl. He pulled you tightly to him as his hands skimmed under your dress and felt your panties underneath. You moaned into his mouth, wanting him so bad, he ground himself against you. His tongue was hot in your mouth as it fought for dominance. You melted in your fiance's arm, as he pulled away from your breathless, his hands sliding back up to your waist. You giggled as you looked up at your smeared lipstick on his mouth, your finger coming up to wipe at the red. Hugh's lips puckered to kiss the tips of his fingers as his eyes, now a shade of almost mossy green, the light brown still shining in his eyes. 

"Are you doing alright?" Hugh pressed, leaning into your neck and kissing above your pulse point. Your hands going to his back to feel his muscles as you smiled up at him. 

"Overwhelmed, but a good overwhelmed." You admitted as he grinned down at you, his hand coming to move your dark hair away from your face. "How are you doing lovebug." You breathed, his fond smile still on his face. 

"Just worried about you." He hummed, pulling you back into him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Hugh's familiar orangey and woodsy scent that always reminded you of him. He even kept a bottle of his cologne at home for when he was away traveling so you could spray it on his shirts or sweatshirts. "Also want you so much." Hugh gruffed, leaning down to put his lips on yours. You grinned up at him as you brought your hand down to his pants, his bulge beginning to harden.  You were as hungry for him as he was for you, haven't felt his naked body in yours in a month. Just the feeling of his cock underneath your hand made you wet. 

Hugh groaned lightly as his head came to your neck, his hips leaned into your hand as his hand came down to cup your core through your panties. The intrusion was unexpected but he felt how hot you were against his hand. "Fuck me." Hugh breathed as you licked your lips coming to kiss his lips.

"Gotta wait baby." You teased, against his lips as you felt his cock harden completely under your touch. "W-want your cock so bad." You stuttered over your words, as he applied pressure to your clit, massaging your pussy. 

"Shut up," Hugh grunted, playfulness in his tone, as his lips met yours in a bruising kiss. You knew your words were getting to him, as you moaned into his lips and bucked into his hand. The two of you pulled away from each other, the last of your restraint coming out as you giggled up at him. A toothy, dopey smile that he sent your way, which made you melt as you leant in to hug him again. Whispering how much you meant to each other, making sure you both looked presentable before going back to join everyone for dinner. 

Everyone slowly started leaving throughout the night before just the bridal party was left. Your brother included as he was going to be officiating the wedding and other people's partners. Taylor and Travis taking the kids for the night. You'd been really close with him growing up, the two of you were kind of close in age but he always made sure to hang out with you. All of you came together to play some board games, the mixture of people made for a hilarious heartwarming night with all of the people who meant so much to you. Hugh stood up at the end of the night, his hand coming to his stomach as he put a hand behind your chair. 

"I want to thank all of you for being a part of this day for us. I know how much this means to Ainsley, to have all of her people together and have a good time. This woman deserves the world." His eyes meet yours, as you wrinkle your nose in an attempt to stop crying, "Ainsley, you are a brilliant creative woman who stole my heart from the moment I met you."

You felt tears in your eyes as your hand came to the hand on the back of the chair, grasping his fingers and palm as he sat back down. Hugh leant in to lightly kiss your lips as you grinned over at him. The two of you had to separate, the guys leaving for the night as the girls stayed at the house. Hugh left giving you a kiss, his hand lingering on yours pulling your hand with his as he walked backward and mouthing that he loved you. 

The night was filled with rom-coms, fun bridal games, and a lot of everyone drinking. Liz wanted to drink a little, but she mostly stayed sober with you. Though for your anxiety you put some CBD drops under your tongue, or you would absolutely not sleep tonight. One you were pregnant it was already hard to be comfortable and two you didn't have Hugh. You used to have sleeping meds, but you didn't want to take too many medications because of the baby. So you cut down on a lot of them but also stepped away from the stress of your job for now. Right now, you wanted to focus on your family, you would take time for yourself when needed, and would always take time to write for your next book, but it was a choice to focus here on home. So, there was no real deadline or much to do. 

The next morning, your cousin had gone out with Liz and gotten breakfast and coffee, similar to the morning before. You were anxious to see Hugh, and received a text from him, like he knew you needed to hear from him. 'Good morning, my love, I don't know what made you wait for a guy like me, but I'm grateful that no one stole your heart before I could. I can't wait to marry you today, this is just the beginning baby.' You grinned down at his words, trying not to cry already, before deciding to tease your future husband. 

You sent a picture of your wedding lingerie, posing in the mirror so the curve of your ass was in the picture with the sides of the panties lifting over your hips and love handles. The bra was supposed to lift up your breasts, it also helped that you had larger breasts that looked like they were going to almost pop out with how tight you had the back clipped. You sent the picture with a little red heart and 'I love you'. You didn't let him see your face in the picture and you knew that always irked him in nudes. He wanted to see your face in pictures or just didn't do it for him completely. You laugh down at your phone as he sends an 'Oh my god, on my knees for ya baby.' 

Then you loosened the bra before putting on your clothes for the morning, a cute little satin two-piece with 'bride' on the side. The morning was verily relaxing, there wasn't much to do before everyone got there, a lot of work was done. The rest of it got done by your cousin's friends, and you went out to see them. Looking around your backyard that was completely done. You'd grown up with your cousin's college friends, you remember them at your cousin's wedding. You felt so grateful that they came all this way to help you out, though you helped finance it with your own money. You didn't mind, you didn't have to finance a lot for this wedding, Hugh covered most of the guests, but the college friends were something you wanted for yourself. Seeing them on this day was special to you, but also tried to pay for your families as well. Trying as much to pay for things where you could, you didn't have the amount of money Hugh had, but you were comfortable and willing. He'd wound up paying for a lot of the wedding and it was hard for you to not feel guilty. But he also let you know it wasn't a lot of money, affirming that it was a small wedding. 

Yesterday, the only people who were here were parents, close extended family, or a part of the bridal party. But the rest of your families and friends came, though you kept the guest list under 70 people. 

You sat outside at the back of the house, as you were talking to them. You've changed so much since the last time you really saw all of them together. You were a complete nervous wreck most of the time, even medicated. But now you were a strong, free woman who openly expressed how she felt. Something you don't think you could've done without your cousin. "Ainsley go downstairs!"

"Why?" You laughed, turning towards Liz, who had been with her father this morning. "Oh, are they here?"

"Yes!!" Ryan greeted, walking through the house and walking over to you. Your cousin's friends knew about your more high-profile life but being confronted with Ryan Reynolds was still a lot. The fact that you were marrying Hugh Jackman had to be a weird thing to come to terms with. Very unexpected especially since you were twenty years younger than him. "How's everyone doing?" He asked, slinging an arm around you. 

"Good!" You chirped as he started dragging you away. 

"Got to hide the treasure before he finds it! It's not time!" Ryan joked as you rolled your eyes at your obnoxious friend before sneaking in, as Ryan went inside. You looked over the corner of the wall, to see your handsome fiancé standing tall at the kitchen island. A toothy smile covered his face as he spoke to your dad. You giggled as you moved back before scurrying down the hall and going upstairs to get ready. You were trying to look for your cousin to no avail, she was supposed to do your hair. 

But you made your way to the bathroom to see that your best friend and Hailey had transformed your bathroom. It had big lights by the mirrors decorated in pink and white with makeup and hair supplies on the counter. Your wedding dress hung up in the corner. Liz was still with her dad from what you knew, she didn't need to get her makeup done yet; you were planning on helping her with it though. Eventually, your cousin found you, a mischievous smile on her face but tears glistening in her eyes as she came over to hug you. "What's going on?" You laughed, as she handed you the phone.

"Just so happy for you, toots." She grinned. That's when she showed you the video that Hugh and your cousin had made you. It seemed to only be the two of them, that's where she was? But before you could think too hard, you saw your handsome future husband in his black and white suit, his head tilted to the side as he smiled at the screen. "Okay, Hugh, I'm going to ask you some questions, are you ready?" Her voice was off-screen. 

"Okay, yes go for it." He clapped his hands together. 

"What are your thoughts? How are you feeling?" Your cousin asked as Hugh shrugged with a dimpled smile on his face as his hand came to his heart.

"I'm just extremely happy, slightly nervous that I'll mess this day up for Ainzy." He smiled at the childhood nickname that he pulled out, "I just hope this day is everything to her, and she chose me to marry me? It means the world to me."

"Good answer." She laughed, "What's the thing you love the most about Ainsley?"

"God,-." He huffed out a laugh, his hand came up to his mouth, and went into deep thought. "First thing that comes to mind is her humor, she's so funny and just beautiful. Also love to see her creative mind, working with that woman was an honor. It's the reason why I fell in love with her, she's been a strong presence since the moment I met her-." He rambled, as his cheeks lightly flushed, a soft chuckle falling from his mouth. You heard a sniffle on the other side of the screen as tears rose to your eyes. "She's always thinking about ways to better herself and the others around her, she just cares so much. Never met a woman like her before."

"God, stop, you're gonna make me cry." Your cousin's voice cracked, as you reached for her hand, your bottom lip coming into your mouth as you saw the bright smile come over Hugh's face. 

"What are you most excited for in this marriage?"

"Our love." Hugh started, smiling over at her, "She just has so much love in her, I can't wait to be with her for the rest of my life and see her with our child."

"Your child?" She choked.

"Yeah, she's pregnant." Hugh grinned over at her, and you heard an 'oh', before the phone the camera was moved around as she went in to hug him, before moving back, her voice scratchy. 

"Any last words?"

"I just love you so much sunshine, whatta think Y/C/N?"

You were happy that they hadn't really started on your makeup yet, as tears streamed down your face. 

"I don't think I've ever seen her happier, Hugh." She replied before the video shut off. 

"Oh my god!" Your best friend squealed, as she hugged you. You looked over at your cousin with a fond smile as your sister came in to congratulate you. 

"Supposed to not make me cry." You breathed out shakily, as your cousin brought a tissue up to her eyes to stop the makeup from running. As you are getting your makeup and hair done you blast Mamma Mia soundtrack music while everyone else gets ready in the large upstairs bathroom and your bedroom connected. 

Liz came to join you after your hair and makeup was done, so you let her sit in your chair, and you did her makeup while talking to her. "Dad told me about the baby." She grinned up at you as you smiled, nerves flashing in your eyes.

"You're okay with that?"

"You two really deserve it, Ainsley." Liz smiled over at you, as she tried not to cry, as you tilted your head at the girl. 

"You remind me so much of me at your age." You breathed; you couldn't stop smiling at the young girl who was about to be your stepdaughter. "Ya know, I couldn't be more honored to be your stepmom. I don't ever want to replace your mom, but I want you to know you can come to me if you need anything. You or your brother, I love you both so much." 

"We love you too, Ains." Liz assured as she leaned in to hug you, you gave her a soft squeeze before finishing up her makeup before curling her hair. 

The morning was going incredibly fast, like it was flying by, you were a bucket of hormonal emotions. You mind kept going to Hugh, you wondered how is morning was, if he was missing you the way you were missing him. 

When you saw your dad, you felt your lip wobble as you saw tears come to his eyes. "My little girl." He breathed, coming forward to hug you. 

"Thank you." You sighed.

"For what?" He chuckled.

"For always showing me what a good man looks like, even when you struggled. You were always such a good man and a good father." You said as you looked over at him. 

"You've grown up so much, I'm so proud of you sweetheart."

"Thank you dad." You sniffled. 

The two of you spoke for a couple more minutes before it was time to have the first look with Hugh. It had meant so much to you, when he stood down the hallway. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenching as he swallowed back tears. You couldn't help the smile on your face as he moved over to you in quick strides. 

His hands came to your jaw, cupping your cheeks as he lightly pressed his lips to yours. "You are so beautiful." He choked, smiling down at you, his eyes running all over your dress, to your chest that your grandma's pearl necklace and your "H" initial necklace. Your hand came up to his face as you gazed up at him. 

"I'm marrying you." You laughed.

"Yeah, you are." Hugh smiled, his green eyes sparkling, as your heart pumped hard against your chest. His hand came to your stomach, as he lightly kissed your lips again. You felt tears rise up in your eyes, as his hand came to your cheek, his pointer finger lightly brushing against your cheekbone. Some of your highlighter coming off on his finger, just the tiniest bit. "Ainsley, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. I love you more than words can describe. Hopefully, I can show you that for the rest of our lives." 

"Suppose to save your vows." You pouted as you tilted your head back to keep in the tears, Hugh just chuckled. You looked over to see Liz taking pictures of the two of you. His hand comes up to the your 'H' necklace, putting it between his two fingers as he gazed down at you. "You are the perfect model, aren't you?" That caused a smile to break out over Hugh's face, his crow feet wrinkling at the sides of his eyes. You can't help but move your hand up to his face. He leaned into your hand as you gazed into his eyes. "Now you gotta get shirtless." You whispered, leaning into his ear, as he laughed. Hugh's strong arms wrapped around you easily, as he tugged you into him as he gave you that adorable tight lip smile, your fingers moving over his smile lines. 

"We're gonna have to get real pictures soon." Hugh sighed, leaning in to kiss the side of your face. He's watched you put on makeup several times to know that you didn't put foundation on, so he knew where to kiss. You giggled as your hand ran through his hair as a wobbly smile came on your face.

"Messin' up your hair." You squeaked. 

"You know I don't mind."

"Now even for a photoshoot?" You teased.

"It's our wedding, Ainsley." Hugh huffed out laughter, as he moved in to softly kiss your lips before letting you go. You know that he didn't want to, but you never pulled away first so eventually he had to. 

You grabbed Hugh's hand as you went out of the house to see your cousin, your brother's family hanging around the front. You went out to see your cousin who had been busy with final touches, telling her that you were ready for pictures. You were going to do the pre-ceremony pictures with her but after the ceremony, Hugh had hired an expensive photographer of his choice. Then you walked over to him to make sure everything was going well on your brother's front. "Thank you for doing this." You smiled over at your brother, as you hugged him. Hugh went in for a friendly handshake, as your brother nodded to him. Your eyes landed on your blue-eyed niece with a soft grin. Last night, they had gotten a babysitter for their baby, but you were so happy to see her here. 

She was in the same dress that your cousin used for her niece at her wedding. It was made up of your grandma's wedding dress, and she had lent it to Hailey for her wedding, and now yours. You put your niece to your hip as you grinned down at her. Your cousin moved over to take pictures, as Hugh's hand came to your back as he leaned in to say 'Hi' to her. Eventually, you had to hand her back, she was your flower girl so you would see her soon. But your cousin whisked the two of you off to do some pictures by the water. 

You always enjoyed taking pictures with your cousin, she did your senior photos and has been taking pictures professionally since high school. Hugh was as charming as ever and your cousin had complimented how photogenic Hugh was. He goes to dip you, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grin up at him. He leans down to kiss your lips before pulling you back up, keeping his arms around you. "I love you." Hugh leaned into your ear and whispered, as you grinned before bringing your hand up to his cheek as you kissed his lips. 

"Gonna have to reapply my lipstick."

"Oh well." Hugh breathed, smiling against your lips as your chest shook with laughter. Before his head moved to tuck into your neck he pulled you closer. Your hands went to the back of his head feeling the hair as he held you. He was really big on physical contact, something you had to get used to. But one day he just became your most trusted person, your favorite person, his touch was always soothing. 

"My lovebug." You giggled into his ear, Hugh felt his chest warm at the sound of your giggling, it went straight to his heart. Breathing in his favorite perfume that you wore, as his hands splayed on your back. He loved the material of this dress, and he so badly wanted to take it off of you. 

You finished the pictures before going back into the house as the guests arrived and went right to the backyard through the side of the house. Your bridal party was with you inside of the house but everyone else had been seated. You started feeling slightly dizzy, and your heart began to race, this was the most important day of your life, and you were allowed to have some nerves. You sat down and drank some water before reapplying and retouching your makeup. Hugh sat next to you rubbing your back, as your hand came to his, slotting your fingers together. "Just a lot of people." 

"I know, baby," Hugh murmured, kissing your hair as he rubbed at your back. Your cousin came to put your veil into your hair, as she grabbed a curl and tightened it around her finger. You grinned over at you before getting up, Hugh squeezing your hand before going out to the back doors. You started getting ready to walk down the aisle, listening to 'Kacey Musgraves Love Is A Wild Thing, as you focused on your breathing trying not to overthink. Your dad came in, as you two started chatting back and forth until it got to the bridge, the two of you walking out with your arm looped through his.

You felt a lump form in your throat as your eyes met Hugh, the reality that you were marrying this man, the love of your life, right now. You really couldn't feel any happier than in this man’s periphery. He had the softest look on his face, before his nose flared as he tilted his head, a wobbly smile on his lips. You could see the emotion on his face, you never thought you would feel this loved by another person. Hugh's love was written all over his face, something that he showed you almost every night.

You didn't have sex every night, but you were intimate together. Focusing solely on other's bodies, learning every sensitive spot, kissing every dip and freckle. Trusting each other in ways you'd never trusted another person before. You had never gone bare with anyone before him, something you did later in the relationship. Never let a partner stay inside of you after you have sex, or hold you the way he does. As close as he could possibly be, doing whatever he pleased with your body. You started experimenting with different toys, different ways to pleasure each other, and find what drives the other crazy. 

But now with him standing in front of you, love is emitting in the air between you as your dad handed you off to Hugh. You kissed your dad's cheek before Hugh led you to stand in front of him, his hand coming into yours after you handed off your bouquet to Liz. You glanced over at your brother with a fond smile, as the music ended. 

Your brother begins his speech, "Hello and welcome! We're here today because Hugh and Ainsley have decided they love each other so much that they want to get the government involved! But again, thanks to all who have joined us today, I know that every one who is here today is very important to both the bride and groom." He clears his throat, as you smile over at Hugh. "Growing up I always wanted to protect Ainsley, we always had a very close relationship, and I knew that whoever was going to end up with my sister needed to be a good guy. Little did I know when you said you were bringing your new boyfriend that you'd be bringing home the wolverine." Hugh chuckled, along with the crowd, a smile curving your face. "All jokes aside, I should have known you'd find a superhero to fall in love with. The moment I knew that you were going to wound up with his guy was when you said. "Yes, he's a superhero, but I don't need him to save me, I just want to be by his side no matter what happens." Because that is what love is, it's growing together, forgiving each other even if you hate each other, and coming together. At the end of the day, you love each other, and you promised you'd always be by each other’s side."

The two of you promised yourselves to each other, before getting the opportunity to recite your vows, Hugh got to start, "I'm going to start off with a story of when I first met Ainsley. If you didn't know we met on the set of her movie and from the moment I walked into that audition I felt your strong presence. You've always been a force to reckon with and I didn't like to admit that but you captivated me in a way I had never felt before. I'm a 50-something-year-old divorced man, with a career that was slowing and a status that was waning. I didn't want to do the movie at first, so I went to the audition to see the script in action just to meet you. Seeing your vision come to life became my passion, to see what you spoke about so vehemently on the big screen, come to life. I wanted to spend as much time as I could with you because your creative talent was something anyone would want to witness. It also helped that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. As cheesy and repetitive as that sounds, there is a type of beauty that only your kind, creative, observant soul emits. The only type of beauty that I can associate with your eyes and your name. The type of beauty that got me to do an indie romance movie this late into my career." You laughed as tears clouded your vision, your handkerchief from your cousin’s wedding, a beautiful blue, purple, and green peacock on the fabric. You brought up the material to dab at your eyes. "I've said this many times but you are my world, wanting to make you happy and see you thrive has become my number one goal. My career used to come first, one of the things I was most passionate about. But when you walked into my life you showed me what I was missing, I started only being able to picture you as my future and started seeing you in the tiniest details of my life. I couldn't have asked for a better partner, someone who took the time to get to know my kids, even without me asking. This woman spent hours trying to come up with the best way to connect my children, she asked my advice and showed the type of patience I could only wish I had. You care so deeply about others and show me the love I deserve. Our love is the type that consumes us but somehow stabilizes and grounds us as well. I know from the beginning you told me you didn't need a man in your life, you could be by yourself and be content. But that you chose me, you chose to shove past all of your fears to come into my arms. And my love, my sunshine, my Ainsley, I can't thank you enough for choosing me and I want to spend the rest of our lives showing you why you chose me." 

"Thank you, Hugh. Ainsley, have you prepared your vows?"

"I have." Your voice shook, as you cleared your throat before opening up the paper. You don't know how Hugh managed to recite that but it warmed your heart to know he took it so seriously and said the sweetest heartfelt words that made it impossible to not cry. "I um, I never wanted to fit into the patriarchal idea of marriage, and giving away your last name for someone else. I didn't think that the love I deserved was going to happen for me, not because I didn't deserve it but because it was so specific. People told me to lower my standards and conform, but I held strong and eventually thought I was going to end up alone. But I found you." Your voice wobbled, as a tear came down to your cheek as you looked up at Hugh, his green eyes shimmering as he squeezed your hand. "You know that feeling you get when you've made a final decision, cut and dry so easily was what I thought my future was. I thought I was going to be alone. Then you did everything, you filled in the gaps and checked all of my boxes. Even when you couldn't, you'd walk in head first and you asked me what I needed and never hesitated to give it to me. Your love is the type of thing that heals so many wounds because all of my trauma can be shut down by saying I did find the love of my life. I did find the right guy, I did hold out for my hero. I found a man who I trust to love me for the rest of my life and someone I can so easily love. Because Hugh, that is what you are and always have been. You are just so so easy to love, it's nuts. You are ridiculously funny, charming, and kind. You constantly put others in front of you and you never ask for anything in return. You constantly held my hand in the darkness and reminded me that I wasn't alone. You held the door open in your life and welcomed me through the front door. Ever since I have felt at home in your arms," Your voice breaks, as you try to take a deep breath. "I have never felt safer with anyone or anything, the way I feel with you. The way you show me every day that you are my safe haven, my hope, and everything that I could've ever wished for. Hugh, I don't think I'm very good at this but lovebug, I love you so much. In a way that I could never possibly write, paint, or create. The type of love that can only be shown through time, grace, and passion. The type of love that we hold between us and that we will continue to spread in our future.” You looked up into Hugh’s eyes as you finished, his fingers squeezing yours as he looked down at you with glassy orbs. 

"Thank you, both great displays of your love. Ainsley and Hugh, are you two ready to get married?

"Yes please." You murmured as Hugh breathed out a, "yes.", 

"Do you take one another as partners from this day forward?"

"We do." You and Hugh spoke together as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, a shine of green reflecting in his orbs with a fog of almost beige, brown. His frown lines dipped as he held a serious look in his eyes, your fingers itching to feel his smile lines against your thumb. Your eyes trace the curve of his nose to the barely-there dusting of freckles. 

"Will you love, honor, and cherish one another as partners for the rest of your lives?"

"We will." You repeat as you feel a smile line your face, as you squeeze Hugh's hands. 

"Hugh and Ainsley have chosen these rings as a symbol of their unbreakable love. Please place these rings on each other's fingers and repeat after me." Your brother began, as Ryan's son waddled over to you with the rings. 

"Thank you bub." Hugh grinned down at him, before standing up and handing you his ring. You felt your eyebrows furrow as you tried not to cry, as Hugh took your hand. 

"I give you this ring as a reminder of our love, safety, authenticity, and trust." Your brother started as Hugh gazed down at you, his eyebrows dipping as his eyes flicked back and forth from yours. His warm hand encompassed yours as you pointed your ring finger at him as he looked into your eyes with passion and repeated your brother's words.

"I give you this ring as a reminder of our love, safety, authenticity, and trust." And Hugh gives you his hand, your other hand holding it as you repeat the words before sliding the golden ring on Hugh's ring finger. 

"By the authority vested in me, it is with joy that I pronounce you married. Family and Friends I present to you, Mrs. and Mr. Jackman!"

Hugh scoops you up in his arms as your ring-clad hand comes up to his jaw and his lips smash against yours. You smiled against his lips before giggling in joy as you parted, your hands coming together as he pulled you back to lightly kiss your lips again. Your hands clasped together as he raised your hands into the air, making you laugh as you looked over at your husband. ‘Can't take my eyes off of you’ by Frankie Valli started playing as Hugh forced you to dance down the aisle. Your cheeks flamed before you got back inside of the house. Hugh wrapped his around you the sound of his booming laughter making your chest feel warm, as he kissed the top of your head. "We're married, baby."

"God I love you so much." You cried, your arms slinging around his broad shoulders as his arms went to your back and tugged you in closer as his lips fell on top of yours. 

"I love you," Hugh mumbled against your lips, as Liz and Ryan came in after you.

"C'mon let's make it official love birds." Ryan ushered, slinging an arm around Liz as Hugh led the three of you to the reading room where you had kept your marriage license on your desk. Your brother walked in shortly after and you walked over to hug him.

"You did so good! Thank you."

"No problem, Ainsley." Your brother replied, patting your back as you moved back as he came to sign his part. "Okay you guys sign this and your witnesses and it's official."

Liz and Ryan signed their names first before you and Hugh did your own, signing your name Ainsley Jackman. Your hand came over Hugh's as he handed the license to your problem. "We're gonna drop Y/N/N, off at home and go get this to the courthouse, we'll be back."

"Grab some food before you go," Hugh suggested, as your hand came to his forearm and you looked up at him, your hands coming to rest on his stomach. Your brother left, as Hugh glanced down into your eyes he saw the look in your eyes. You needed to be alone. "Why don't you go out, Ryan led them to the dining area."

"Yes sir." Ryan huffed, as Liz grinned over at the two of you before walking out. Hugh's arms wrapped around your thighs as he sat down on your loveseat. Pushing your dress up so it was looser around your hips, as your hands came to his chest. His hands came to grip your hands as his lips landed on yours. Then you moved your head into his neck as he pulled you in closer. The sound of his heart beating against your ear. You had planned a break between the ceremony and the dinner, your cousin and her husband were supposed to take your food and bring it in. You would go back for dessert, cut the cake, and socialize with everyone. 

But after all the social interaction you needed time alone with your new husband. The smell of his woodsy cologne fills your senses as your hand comes up to thread through his hair. Hugh's nose pressed against your neck, as you felt his eyes flutter shut against your skin. One of his hands rubbed up and down your back, as you held each other close. Little murmurs about how much you love each other go back between the two of you. Your eyes almost grow tired as the door opens and your cousin comes in. "Hey, love birds!" She greeted, setting down one of your plates and cups. Her husband is doing the same, nodding over at you. 

"Congrats Ainsley."

"Thank you." You smiled over at him as you moved off of Hugh's lap. The two of you go over to grab your plates before sitting on the couch together, pulling a table over to you, that hangs over the couch. The two of you chatted back and forth, your hands kept reaching over to touch each other. Or wanting to try something on each other's plate. You're giving each other excuses to reach over the table and kiss. 

When you're done with your dinner you walk back out, everyone cheering for you and making you blush. Everyone grabs their wine glasses and taps their knives against it. You giggle your hand coming to your mouth as Hugh's left arm comes to your waist, pulling you in to smash your lips together. When he moves back, he gives you a soft smile, as he leads you to the front of the room. The dinner and reception go back in a flash, full of dancing, and singing. Right before the dancing, Hugh serenaded you with 'All Of Me' by John Legend, a song that you now deemed as your song. You weren't sure where you were sleeping tonight, Hugh was keeping that a secret. Before you knew it, you were drunk off the happiness, love, and excitement. You were shocked when there was a limo waiting for you. "They're going to keep the window closed," Hugh whispered in your ear, as you walked out of the house. 

The night twinged your nose as Hugh carried your bags over your shoulders. The rest of your suitcase all packed up in the back. You smiled at the fact that he had to set this all up for you, keeping a secret. You still didn't know where you were going. Your family came out to decorate the back of the limo for you earlier, it was all marked up with 'Just married', streamers, and balloons hanging off the back of it. The sunset was starting to come down as you said goodbye to your family and got into the back of the limo. Hugh climbed in after you, before getting right down on his knees. Your eyes widened as his hands came to your knees, spreading your thighs. You flushed, as he pulled your hips down the seat. 

"Hugh." You giggled, as he grinned up at you and he pecked kisses against the inside of your thigh. ---start here. His hands came up to the sides of your dress, dragging them up your hips. Hugh's hands soothing over the rolls on your belly. His lips kiss over the fabric covering your clit, making you huff out. 

"Keep imaging this on you all day, trying not to get hard. God it's been so long since I've been inside of you," Hugh grunted, burying his nose into the wet fabric of your cunt. "Always smell so fucking good. Gotta fucking taste you, my wife." 

"I'm yours, Hugh." You panted, as his hands to your white lacey panties, pulling them off your hips and dragging it down your thighs, your heels falling off your feet. Hugh moves your legs up around his shoulders before parting your thighs and licking a fat strip up your petals. He groaned at the taste on his tongue before burying his mouth into you, his nose sitting on your mound as his fingers came up to prod at your tight entrance. Your walls flutter around his finger, and he grunts into your nub making your hips buck into his mouth. Hugh's strong biceps flex as he pulls you back to his mouth in the position he wanted. "Hugh, fuck." You moaned.

This man ate pussy like a god. His finger came up to pinch at your clit, spitting on it while he lapped at your folds. Or his nose rubbing at your clit while he fucked you with his tongue, you wreathed in his grasp, and one of his hands pulled your top down to cup your bra-clad breast. Finding your nipple through the fabric and tweaking the nipple. Hugh mumbling and groaning into your cunt to make you slicker as he made you come all over his face. "Fuck me, princess," Hugh called. "Such a good girl." His large hands soothed up and down your thighs as he gazed up at you with forlorn eyes. 

"God I need your cock, please Hugh, fill me up." You begged as Hugh groaned, pulling you to him and shoving his erection into your wet pussy. The black cloth of his dress pants getting wet with your clear arousal. 

"Gotta wait."

"No, fuck me, Hugh. Gotta fuck your wife." You pressed, your hands coming to unbutton his shirt. His hand smacked your hand away. "Wanna feel you."

"So fucking needy," Hugh grunted, as he rutted into you, his head shooting back as he groaned softly. "Know how badly I wanna claim you and teasin me like that. Knowing that you wanna wait." His hands come to your ass, pulling you up and his hand comes to the side of your cheek. 

"Hugh!" You yelped, flushing a deep red, and the feeling of sweat rose to your skin. 

"Shut the fuck up." He grunted.

"You're the one you spanked me." You squeaked, a giggle erupting from your chest. Hugh couldn't help but smile over at you as his lips came to your thighs. 

"Make you come again."

The car came to a stop, as Hugh moved back keeping your panties in his pocket. Pulling down your wedding dress as your hands came up to your chest. Readjusting your breasts as Hugh moved to readjust his cock in his pants. Your eyes fixated on the bulge as his hand came over it. A shaky breath came out of your mouth as you moved closer. "Need your cock so bad. Let me taste you."

"Fuck-we gotta go-."

"Please need you in my mouth, fuck my throat daddy." Hugh huffed out a rough laugh, as hand came to your hair, gripping it in his hand. The nickname turned him on, as your hand came on top of his bulge. Your lips smashed against his in a hard kiss, your tongues and teeth clashing together. 

"So fucking naughty, princess." He taunted, nipping at your lip before pulling you away. "Get out of the car."

"But d-."

"Get out of the fucking car," Hugh said as you stood up as he harshly demanded, his hand coming to smack your ass possessively as you opened the door. 

You turned around with a grin on your face, "Harder." His hand came to your hip pushing you out of the car before standing behind you. Hugh leant down to grab the bags from the car, before wrapping his jacket around your shoulders. You pulled the sides to your chest as you walked forward out of the car. Your eyes widened as you looked around at the airport, there was Hugh's private jet, he didn't use it often, but he wanted to get it out for this occasion. The two of you are staying in Denver, Colorado for the next couple of days to see the local cities and go to different places. When you got on the plane, Hugh took you back towards the private part of the plane. Locking the door before turning you around, you giggled as his lips came to the back of your neck lightly placing kisses along your skin. His hands work the zipper down the back of your dress. 

"Just wanna rip this off of you." Hugh groaned as he tugged off the dress, pulling at the sleeves as he undressed you. "Fucking love you so much, my everything right here." He breathed out, as his nose pressed against your collarbone, and he pecked against the skin. When your breast was let free from your bra, he grasped one of them in his hands as he groaned, before his other hand came between your folds and his fingers entered your slick entrance. "God your so fucking wet." He started hammering his fingers in your g-spot, making you moan out loudly as his mouth came over your clit. You loved the feelings of his fingers inside of you, they were long and thick, hitting places deep inside of you. But it was nothing like his cock, and the further his fingers reached the more you imagined his cock bruising your cervix. 

"God, fuck me, Hugh." You pleaded.

"Come for me first," Hugh argued, as started swirling his tongue on your clit as he sucked, his fingers rubbing upwards to hit the special spot inside of you. The feeling welling up inside your pussy as he continued his ministrations, the squelching filling up the room as his index and middle finger prod at the spongy part inside of you. The part he loved wrapped around his cock, he bucked his hips into the mattress as he spit on his finger to make it even wetter. You gushed out on him as you jerked your hips, not quite coming yet, but as he blew on your clit, you cried out his name. 

"Fuck, Hugh." He pulled your aching clit back into his mouth and he keeps sucking like his life depends on it.  

"God can't come, need your cock." You cried as you leant forward, your hand reaching down to the tent in his crotch. "I bet you’re so fucking hard, gotta feel it. Love that vein that runs down your Adonis belt to your cock. Need inside me." 

"Fuck, needy little cock-slut." Hugh growled, his hands coming to his shirt to start unbuttoning it. While you sat up scooching forward to undo his button and zipper, pulling it down and pushing down the sides of his pantsuit. You left out a soft whine as you felt his cock bulging from underneath his boxer briefs. You sighed out shakily, as you leaned forward to kiss his hot dick over the fabric. Your fingers came to the hem of his Calvin Klein's and tugging them down to expose his hard as a rock member, bobbing in the air. His tip was a fiery red, precum bubbling off the tip, he was rough and veiny, his mid-shaft thick and long. You leant forward to kiss at the sides of his dick before spitting on his cock. Hugh groaned, as he pushed back his button and his hand came to your hair, tugging on the roots as he positioned the mushroom tip of his cock at your lips. Your tongue poked out to wet the skin, Hugh hissed at the softest before your wet mouth enveloped him. A deep moan of your name fell from his mouth as he panted. 

Hugh pushed his cock further into your mouth, as your jaw loosened, and you started gagging around him. He breathed out shakily, the sensation coursing through his veins like adrenaline. Your mouth was so soft, you knew just how he liked your mouth on him. You were drooly and messy, your hips kept shifting and your thighs kept wiggling. He pulled you off of his cock, his hand coming to pet your cheek. Hugh leant down to kiss your lips, his hand coming to your waist and pulling you closer to him. He stepped out of his dress pants before sitting on the bed and pulling you on top of him. Your lips crashed down on his with a soft moan, your hand coming down to his hard cock that rested between the two of you. You started moving your hand up and down his shaft as he gazed into your eyes with a light brown haze in his eyes. Then you lifted your hips, bringing his dick to your entrance and starting to sink down on his tip. The velvety walls taking him in made a groan quell from his throat, his hands stopping your hips from moving further. "Fuck you're so tight." Hugh panted, as he tilted his head to look into your eyes. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you looked over at your husband. You felt the cold of his ring against your skin. Hugh pulls you off of him, before moving you onto your back and sliding into you. You cried out at the feeling of his cock filling you completely, your walls so slick it didn't hurt. "I love you, baby." He murmured, leaning into your room before he started slowly thrusting his hips into yours. 

"Fuck, Hugh." You whined, tucking your head into his neck as your hand delved into your hair, tugging on the strands as his lips messily met yours, his hips making soft moans fall from your lips like a case of the hiccups. His hands moved to both sides of your hair, moving your hair away from your face. Hugh started lightly tracing your features while he gave you deep long thrusts, his hand coming down trace circles on your throbbing clit. You fluttered around his dick before spasming more, almost pushing his member out of your pussy. But he pushed his hips further into you, your eyes looking down at his flexed sweaty abs, his head tilting back at the feeling of you clamping around him. Then the gush you let out as you orgasmed, the high-pitched roaring moan of his name echoing off the walls of the room. You were lucky that you were in the sky, you hoped no one else heard you. "Wanna mark you, fucking mine."

"Yeah, baby? Need to mark your territory? Fucking show me I'm the one?" Hugh grunted, pulled out of you for a moment, as your lips sucked and nipped as his neck. You were sure to leave fat bruises on his neck, your fingers digging into his skin and pulling him in close. You sighed at the vicinity of his cock, making sure that he remained close as he grinned down at you. "Just wanna make you come again on my cock, feels like fucking heaven." 

"Don't want you to stop fucking me." You admitted, a flush throughout your whole body, as his hand came down to your sensitive pussy to massage the skin. He moved forward, lining up his cock with your pussy and sinking inside, he filled himself to the hilt. Your pussy was the perfect fit for his cock, your hands shakily gripping his shoulders as you sloppily bit his jaw and mouth. 

"Just gonna stay right here for a moment." Hugh's mouth enveloped your breast, his other hand coming to cup your breast and tweak at your nipple. Your nipples puckering up for him, growing wet with his mouth sucking and teasing them. He groaned softly at the way you fluttered around his cock, he leaned into you an idea popping into his head. "Fucking use me, fucking yourself on my cock." 

You moaned, your hands coming to cup his hands that moved over your breasts as you started grinding your hips against his and letting out the airest brightest moan as your clit rubbed against his pubic hair. Hugh moved forward to kiss your lips a soft kiss, trying to resist fucking you into oblivion as he helped you move your body against his cock. Your hips doing the motions and Hugh giving the oomph behind it. That was until you started begging him, whining like a little puppy, "God fuck me, Hugh. Need you to fuck the shit of me, baby." You slurred, as he couldn't help but give a toothy grin as he pressed his swollen lips to yours. Hugh was hesitant to buck his hips into yours, the two of you moving together in harsh movements, your orgasm welling up in you with the rhythmic movement before your back arched, his hands over your breasts as you cradled his arms. Your mouth dropped open as you panted out his name, but before you could react he started jack hammering into your soaked cunt. His cock fell out of you before he pulled out of you, a moan falling from your mouth as he turned you over on your back, getting pillows to help support you and the baby. His hand moved behind your thighs to feel your slick, the arousal a web between his pointer and middle finger. Hugh brought the essence up to his mouth, moaning at your taste before grabbing his cock and pushing his hips forward to bottom out at you. 

"Fuck Hugh." You cried, grabbing onto the maitress as he started jackhammering into your cunt. Your head tilts back as you move against him, his hand coming around to rub at your clit. Your body folding back into him as you started fucking yourself back on his cock like a hungry slut. "Daddy you fuck me so good."

"God your fucking husband now baby girl." Hugh grumbled against your lips, as he lightly slotted his against yours as started rubbing taunt circles on your clit, the movements concentrated as you grabbed at his hand covering your stomach for leverage. One of your hands slid to his strong veiny bicep clutching on for dear god, as you felt a strong orgasm begin to blossom in your stomach like a tall blooming sunflower on a hot shiny summer's day. 

"Mine." You sighed, leaning back into his back before your legs give out as they tremble with your orgasm running through you like a freight train, sucking in your husband's member and his hips stuttering into you, before ground into you while his orgasm shot out of his slit and into your pulsating cunt. Hugh kept his cock inside of you as he leaned his weight on to you, making you sign with the feeling of him against you. Your hands smooth up his back, feeling his sweat skin and the dips of his muscled back. You kissed his shoulder as he hid in your neck, both of your sexes pulsating and throbbing. Hugh eventually pulled out of you to take care of the two of you. 

Carrying you to the bathroom to help you go to the bathroom, you both take bird baths before getting into the pair of pajamas that Hugh had packed for the two of you. Brushing your teeth and getting back out to the bedroom. He pulled off the top blanket and set it on the ground before pulling up the top sheet. You crawled under and he turned off the light as he crawled under with you. Hugh's strong arms wrapped around you as his hazel eyes gazed down at you with piercing love.

note: this got out of hand and i had to imagine every little thing because i wanna marry this man so badly it's not funny

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1 @squishyfruitloop

[smolvenger]

Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 22 (Loki x Fem Reader Crossover Series, Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: Being invited to a dinner party, you and your companions seize the chance to get the first trove.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: >4K

Warnings: Some spicy flirting, but no actual smut. Not much, some angst. Greif and mentions of bullying. If I miss anything, let me know! Proceed with caution, but I take full responsibility for how I portray dark subject matter and if it is not done tastefully or well. If I miss anything that could be triggering, it is your responsibility to tell me as soon as possible so I can tag it here. Otherwise, enjoy!

A/N: I have had major writer's block since moving into an apartment and starting grad school, but maybe something will come up and I will be blocked from Character AI bc I waste all of my time there now. Anyways, it is not perfect, but I just wanted it done. Ta da!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

You, Edith, your husband, Stella, and Sif huddled on a cafe table. The building was painted in pastel greens and pinks, with wide windows filtering in sunlight as guests chatted around all of you. But it was not so noisy that one could not focus on the manuscript. Edith sat at the other end, nervously drinking her coffee, her sandwich untouched. The rest of you huddled together tight to read it together, Sif being the one to turn the pages. 

Loki did raise his eyebrow at a few points, Stella’s bulged out. Sif only had no facial reaction.

Edith’s story was about a ghost who haunted a woman in her home. She added details of the dark house and creaking wood. Of the ghost's skeletal fingers, a skull-like face was blank except for a wide mouth, open with sharp teeth. The characters seemed as real as flesh, with little details that only someone who observed others could make. At one point, the woman was asleep when the ghost screamed. The noise rattled the house and would not stop, waking the woman up in fright. It made you shiver. 

The heroine had a past, as did the house, but it was not revealed. As you got to the end of the snippet, you were eager to know the truth, but Sif set the pages down on the table.

“Miss Cushing, that was incredible!” Stella cried, a hand over her heart. Perhaps it was still racing from the terror of the story.

Edith nodded with a smile, a blush coming up on her.

“Oh, thank you!” she replied. She sat up straighter, and her voice brighter.

“I had chills!” you added on.

“It…wasn’t bad at all,” Loki admitted.

“Well, when I was young. I saw something- and heard noises. I believe I encountered a ghost. I never forgot it,” she admitted. “Father never believed me, only a friend did.”

“A ghost?” Sif asked, she folded her arms.

Edith reached over. She carefully put her papers into the folder and wrapped her arms around it like a baby.

“Yes.” was all she said.

“And has this ghost been to you since, Miss Cushing?” Loki asked.

Edith set down the folder.

“No…. I wrote to explore that. I had an idea and it would never leave me. It was like a fever- I had to write it down. Besides, I always loved stories and books…Mama was the only woman I knew who loved them too and then she…she passed.”

She slumped, her eyes growing vacant. Stella reached out and held her hand.

“She would be proud of you now. Creating something and putting it out there, takes great courage,” you consoled.

A small smile flickered on Edith.

“When did she pass?” asked Stella.

“When I was ten,” answered Edith.

“All this while still a child? You poor thing!” replied Stella.

Edith let out a deep sigh.

“I hope you get published. There are women writers out there- you will be one of them in enough time if you keep at it,” you encouraged her.

“Thank you I…” there were tears in her eyes.

“Oh, is something wrong? We didn’t- offend you?” you asked. Digging into your reticule, you pulled out a handkerchief. Edith gripped onto it, twisting it anxiously.

“It’s only…I…I…” began Edith.

She hesitated. Her lips quivering, then she hung her head low and began her confession.

“No, you didn’t offend me at all, it’s only…I…I hated girls my age. When I was little, I was so obsessed with all those things- ghosts, death, books, novels. I struggled to relate to them when I was little because I just wanted to talk about what I was reading. They didn’t even…try to make room for me. I was excluded. I misunderstood their games and their words. I tried so hard, but it was never good enough. And as a child they-they…”

She paused.

“Mrs. McMichael’s daughter Eunice and her friends always bullied me. They brought me along to be their fool, something to kick at. And I…I just felt so alone…I always did…I didn’t like them. They laughed at me. Teased me. Locked me in rooms. Called me names. And even now that we’re grown…they still keep at it. And I always have to spend time with them. Trying to discuss ribbons at least and dealing with their jabs at most. And Mrs. McMichael…she…I’m always so scared I will say something wrong, something bad…and they’ll laugh at me again. I try so hard to be nice to them. To not strike back because it will only make things worse. But…I could never be myself. But even when I barely said anything,  they would always find a way to insult me. To make me less. I didn’t want to go to balls. Go to anything. I didn’t want to go somewhere where I’d be a figure of scorn…and I was…I was always alone…”

“They’re cowards and fools,” Sif spat.

Edith smiled at that, wiping a few small tears with the handkerchief. 

“Yes, they are. But…not since…since now I…I never could speak to anyone other than Michael, much less another woman, and I…I…” she babbled.

She smiled lightly, her tears still in her small eyes. 

“Not until today. When I met all of you,” she completed.

“I guess we can all consider each other friends. And I’m glad to have you as one, Edith” you replied.

Edith then handed the handkerchief back, her face pink.

“Oh goodness, I just cried in public,” she sighed.

“It’s alright, it was rather small,” Stella assured her with a smile.

There was a small pause. Edith had gathered herself. Her appetite returned and she ate her sandwich. Topics went back and forth as the mood lightened. As the bill was paid, she turned to the rest of you.

“Oh- there is a dinner party later this week at my place. Father and I are hosting. It’s going to be a smaller, intimate affair but he said I could invite anyone I wanted…But…could I invite all of you?” she asked.

Loki raised an eyebrow.

“I think that-”

Clutching his hand, you cut in, interrupting him with an enthusiastic smile.

“We would love to be invited! Can my husband’s friends come too? In total- that should make eight of us, if you have the seats!” you replied.

Loki looked at you, but you squeezed his fist, signaling him to not speak. 

“Yes, of course!” Edith promised. “Where are all of you staying.”

This time, you turned to Loki. He replied that his friend Mr. Pine found a hotel for all of them and that the RSVPs could be forwarded to the address and hotel rooms. Edith vowed to do so, scribbling the address on paper and saying the invites would arrive shortly. Saying your goodbyes, she then left the cafe with a bounce in her step.

Once the door closed, Loki flipped his face to all of you. 

“What in the seven hels is going to a Midgard banquet going to accomplish?” he asked.

“That banquet is exactly where we need to be,” Sif replied. She made glares here and there to make sure no mortal was watching. Or a possible spy. 

“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“Edith has the ring. YN’s powers sensed it,” Stella explained.

“It’s in her house,” you added. “And unless you know how to break into a house tonight and not raise any suspicions with Edith, go ahead and say so.

Loki let out an exhale. His face relaxed.

“Oh…well then… we got lucky. Too lucky. To think me and the variants did all of that foolish searching when our dear, fair ladies walked right into it!” he commented.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The invitations arrived on notes the color of snow. The days seemed long and slow before the evening of the fateful dinner party arrived. Five of you, it was noted, all had similar faces and voices, the variants all agreed to tell others that they were distant relations in case someone asked questions. The men donned evening tuxedos. You were in a rich, dark green gown, Stella her sky blue, and Sif one of wine red.

“I should go. I want to be in the search. And I don’t want to be stuck where it’s dull,” Sif insisted.

“I’ll go with you, you need my powers to find the ring. And if Grendel were to strike, he wouldn’t do it in the middle of a crowded party,” you nodded.

It was then decided. You and Sif would look, while the rest distracted the hosts and partygoers.

Your cabs pulled up to the house. As servants took your coats and escorted you inside, you noted the light wood, the grandfather clock and mirrors, and the elaborate glass windows. Warm, light, and sweet.

“One would think this is like a fairy house.,” Thomas commented, looking about.

There were footsteps and distant chatter of a few guests. Then in came Edith, dressed in a cream dress with ruffles at the long neck and sleeves.

“Oh! Our party! Hello- welcome!” she greeted.

All of you exchanged greetings and names, ever polite and gracious to the strangers in your party. She smiled at you and the ones she met, and then she shook hands with Hal, Jonathan, Robert…

She paused with Thomas, locking eyes with her. She partially froze. Her smile dropped. Then she found herself again, her eyes flicking down and then back up.

“And you, sir?” she asked.

“Sir Thomas Sharpe, esquire. And Miss Cushing- and I hear you are a talented writer, too, I presume?” he asked. He smiled back. But it was different than the merely happy-to-be-here-please-don’t-suspect-a-thing manners of the others. His eyes shined on her. 

“Yes..yes, I am,” she admitted shyly. Though you could see her cheeks were pink.

“And of ghost stories, I heard?” he added.

“Oh- yes, that is my specialty,” she answered. She beamed at him like there was no one else in the party.

“Well then, I have a particular fondness for them. You must promise to let me read it, and if not- then tell me every last little detail about it,” he said.

She nodded and said she would. Then the door opened with a couple that just came in and she excused herself to greet them, but not before looking at Thomas one last time.

“Ah, the large party,” said a baritone voice.

There entered an older man, tall and broad with an impressive, grey beard. He smiled at each of you. But he turned to you, Sif, and Stella first.

“And you three are the ones who defended my daughter against the notorious Mrs. McMichael, yes?” he asked.

“Yes, we were the ones present,” you answered.

“Well then, I will always offer my warmest gratitude. Mrs. McMichael is fond of kicking the hornet's nest, we shall say,” he replied. 

He reached out his hand and you shook it, his skin calloused. “I am Mr. Cushing.”

Edith led you down the short hall to the dining room. There were lit candles everywhere, making the scene lush and romantic. The table was set with a white cloth and vases of flowers and candelabras. The place was decorated with tall china cabinets, a stone fireplace, and a wall with tall windows. Appetizers were served on porcelain.  Water was served in one glass and wine in another. 

You waited through the courses. Engaging in topics as they came and went. The men seemed to all be doing fine. Though there were a few odd questions about the “business trip” and how they were related, Loki came up with lies on the spot to satisfy them. Sif held her posture uptight and helped herself to the main course, eating heartily and quickly. Stella cut up her chicken into small bits and always smiled.  Edith and Thomas exchanged several glances and smiles, even when others were talking.

“Why, this is such a beautiful place, Miss Cushing! And what an elegant cake!” Stella praised as dessert arrived.

“Oh, thank you. The cook has never failed us once. Wait until you try a bite!” Edith said.

Taking in a deep breath, you calmed yourself. You made your jaw unclench and relaxed your shoulders. Focusing on the blank white of the tablecloth, you reached out your senses.

Ignoring the sounds of eating and sipping, the whispering of servants, you focused on the ring. Something was pulling you above the stairs. Edith’s bedroom was down that hall. It poked at you like an insistent child.

But where exactly was-

“And Mrs Laufeyson, how did you meet your husband?” asked Mr. Cushing.

Snapping back to the present, you looked up and smiled.

“Oh…I was dreadfully ill. And he heard of me and offered his help to make sure I had medical care. He saved my life…”

You turned to Loki.

“And not just my body, far more than that” she replied.

Loki sat up, his jaw a little loose. Then he smiled.

“Oh, how romantic!’ cried one guest.

Taking a bite of cake, you found it was layered, delicate, and sweet. 

Slices were eaten and servants cleared plates. Some ladies went to one parlor and the men were trickling to another, but there were exceptions. Edith and Thomas were by the fire, talking and chatting- you even saw Edith laugh lightly. It was Jonathan who walked up to the host himself, Mr. Cushing, and was asking him about his business. Loki was beside him, in case any gaps needed filling. The rest of the men had the other variants, content to drink brandy and smoke, and seem innocent. Stella was listening intently to old ladies gossip, as they led her to the drawing room.

Loki then went up to you.

“Ah, and is it time?” he asked.

“Yes, it is,” you answered him quietly.

You shared a look at Sif. She nodded her head. 

Both of you walked over to a far corner.

Loki raised his hand and two duplicates of you both appeared. Your husband smirked.

“Ah, now two of my lovely wife? Our nights could become a lot more interesting…” he whispered.

“Oh, stop it!” you teased.

He raised an eyebrow.

“But would you like a duplicate of me? Hm? To have two of your trickster god worshiping you at once? Pleasuring you until you couldn’t remember your name?” he whispered.

Feeling your toes curl in your shoes, you lightly swatted his arm.

“If my husband could control his lust for one hour, we have a ring to find,” you reminded him.

He gave you a wink, and then walked away with the duplicates to join the other men.

Making sure your steps were light, you both picked up your skirts and scurried up the steps. The servants were too busy with the party to take note. But you couldn’t waste time before one of them saw something.

You quickened to Edith’s room at the end of the hall. Reaching out your hand, you made sure it unlocked and got inside.

Turning around, you made sure the door was quietly closed and locked.

It was dark from the night, and full of books and childhood toys. Both of you eyed around.

“Use your gifts, find where it is!” Sif insisted.

Taking in another breath, you readied yourself. Ready to reach out your gifts and-

The door creaked open.

Both of you turned around.

The door opened by itself. The door handle still clicking up and down. It was a warm night and warm from the many people. But the room itself had turned cold. Uncomfortably cold.

“What-what is that?” you asked. Feeling the color drain from your face.

“The windows are closed- there is no wind” observed Sif. 

A figure emerged at the end of the hall, hidden by the shadows.

A servant? No-this wasn’t a servant. It was a tall figure, dressed in black with a long, black veil as if in mourning. But there were no widows in the party guests, much less one dressed like that.

The woman moved over.

No- she didn’t move…

She glided over.

In a heartbeat, there was a gust of cold wind and she flew over. Her veiled face, you realized, was nothing more than a pitch-black skull. Hollow eye sockets. Black pitch dripped over her skeletal features.

She let out a scream before either of you could.

The specter flew over and grabbed you both by each arm. Reaching out, you saw her hands were only bones. Her touch was so cold, it numbed your skin. She shook both of you.

“THIEVES! THEIVES! THEIVES!” she screeched. 

She threw both of you. You and Sif hit a wall and then fell onto the floor. You let out a sound despite yourself, catching yourself onto the rug below.

Sif reached her hand and put it over your mouth. 

“If you scream, the servants and guests will come up,” she argued.

You had to bite your tongue. The lights in the room flickered on and off rapidly. The temperature was freezing in that room, and the specter pointed a bony finger toward you.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? STAY AWAY FROM HER! BURGLARS! THEIVES!” the spectre hissed.

You removed Sif’s hand, though kneeling, you were shaking. Books toppled from a bookshelf and papers on a desk flew about.

“Who are you? Are allied with Grendel?” you asked in a quiet voice.

The Spectre did not react. She only kept screeching.

“DO NOT LAY A HAND ON HER! BURGLAR!”

Sif unsheathed her sword.

“Grendel, no doubt. Something of his,” she muttered.

Sif ran forward, and with a grunt, she stabbed the woman through the stomach.

But there was no blood. And the specter did not budge. She did not seem the least bit hurt in any way.

She let out another scream- an ugly sound, like a broken sob, one that almost tore you.

Sif’s jaw hung open in surprise. The specter grabbed Sif by the throat.

“DO-NOT-TOUCH-HER!” it warned.

Sif struggled and tried to loosen, but the specter held on tight.

The memories of Edith at the cafe went back to you. It made sense- Edith saw a ghost when she was very young…she must have seen it here…it must have been right after…after she lost…

Everything made sense.

With shaky legs, you got back up and stated.

“I know who you are…you’re Mrs. Cushing- you’re Edith’s mother!” you declared.

The ghost paused, turning her skeletal face to you. The wind in the room vanished.

“We are not here to hurt your daughter- and that is my friend. We are here to help her, please let her go,” you asked.

The ghost released her skeletal hand. Sif fell to the floor, coughing and gasping in the air. You rushed forward and helped her.

“There is a ring Edith has…and it’s one of Grendel’s. It looks like this…” you began. From your pocket, you got out the copy.

The ghost looked at it.

“Do you know who Grendel is? His mortality is stuck in a few items. Including a ring like this. If he remains in power…he could hurt Edith. If we find the ring and destroy it, then he’ll be destroyed…Please…you only want to protect her. That’s why you were always watching over her, all that time she thought she was alone…and she was not. Could you help us?”

The ghost looked at you. It exhaled, the shadows around it flittering.

She took her finger and pointed to a chest. A drawer opened. And out floated a locked box. It unlocked and then floated over to your hands.

Looking inside were a few jewelry items…including that very ring.

You looked up at her.

“Thank you,” you said.

Sif plucked out the ring. You replaced it with the duplicate ring, setting in within the few earrings and trinkets.

The small box floated up, locked, and then was put in the drawer, where it shut.

The ghost let out another sound, like an exhale and a moan. The papers shuddered again and the grandfather in the clock rang the hour.

Then the shadows vanished, as did the ghost. Warmth returned to the room again, as did the light.

You cupped your mouth again, catching your breath.

“Oh…oh gods…” you whispered.

Sif pocketed the ring. Without saying a word, she looked at you and grabbed your hand.

“Hurry, princess,” she urged.

Both of you shuffled at once out of the room. Downstairs, the party remained as normal. It was as if no one heard any screams or rattling coming from upstairs.

Steps light, desperate to escape the scene, both you and Sif hurried out of the room. Your feet light. So there wasn’t a rumble as you went across the hall. Down the stairs. Squeezing your eyes shut to concentrate, you signaled Loki.

“We have it! Send the duplicates!”

Sure enough, your duplicates turned a corner of a wall outside of the parlor. You both walked over. They vanished like mist. 

You took their places and walked in. Sipping coffee with the other ladies making idle chatter. Stella glanced at you both. You gave her a smile and a nod and her shoulders relaxed.

Drinking your tepid coffee, you let out an exhale as if to wash away everything that happened.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You both staid for two more days to avoid suspicion.  But on the last day, Edith hurried to your hotel. She embraced you and Stella warmly, (though Sif seemed a little stiff as she did). The other gentlemen nodded.

“May I…may I write, please? I would like to hear from you…all of you,” Edith said,her eyes glancing to Thomas and then back. You felt bad for her, the poor girl would be at the mercy of the McMichaels again. 

“We will. We’ll visit too if we can,” you promised her. 

Thomas then stepped forward, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“May I have the pleasure of writing to you as well, Miss Cushing?” he asked.

She jumped at first. Her jaw lowered briefly, and then she smiled.

“Why- Yes, please,” she answered.

He took her hand and kissed it. You could feel the fluttering from Edith herself. Hal cocked an eyebrow, but Robert rolled his eyes.

Once she left, Jonathan made sure your keys were all returned. Loki took a hand and flicked open a portal.

One down, three more to go you silently counted out. But perhaps more than just ghosts awaited the next one. Things even worse…

[chaifootsteps]

I think I realized why hh makes me feel so uncomfortable yet attracted to the show at the same time. It's filled with lots of interesting ideas yet the dialogue reminds me of all the bullies and generally unpleasant people I've met. I want to see stories with demons and can't help but expect something grand out of this. I want to see a fictional world with its own rules, I want to see characters that deviate from mortal perspective on things. Instead I see adults that tell others to kys and make sex jokes. I think it's fine if it's what creators find funny or cool. I know it's a part of reality. I personally had bad experiences with people like that and sitting through this can be tiring or alienating to me, knowing the majority of characters are like that.

I think you could write villains as a scary and irredeemable people without making them tantrumy and without the kys jokes. I've known people who said kys to others and they were not worth my time and energy in the end, and now I have to come back from a long day and watch fictional characters Im supposed to dedicate my free time to, to root for, act the same way. I can't take them seriously

The dialogue reminds me of all the bullies I've known. Swearing, being petty, crossing boundaries and sexually assaulting others played off as a joke reminds me of how bullies saw them acting that way as a joke. Those bullies thought they were geniuses and smarter than others and if someone was uncomfortable they were a loser. I know that bullies are actually weak people with fragile egos. How am I supposed to find characters like that attractive and inspirational?

Even Charlie, the nicest of all, forces others to do what she wants, and she's rewarded at the end. The exceptions are maybe vaggie and pentious but people hate vaggie and I don't know why. I suspect it's because she's like a strict mother who scolds you for misbehaving

That's one of the least redeemable and least fixable things about Viv's stories, the core of pure, childish meanness at the heart of it all. That's because Viv herself, despite being a 30+ year old woman, still has the empathy of the worst person you knew in high school, and she doesn't see the slightest bit of a problem with that. It seeps into her shows like contaminated groundwater, and here we are.

[shokami]

babe I need your lucifer morningstar / wriothesley / zhongli / yoUR FAVS HEADCANONS ASAP <333

ONLY IF YOU WANT TO THOUGH!! I love reading your posts! ♥️♥️

COMING INTO MY ASKS LIKE THIS AND TELLING ME TO WRITE IS GOING TO MAKE ME BECOME A FULL TIME WRITER AGAIN. (i’m not complaining, i have so many thoughts i need to get them out)

zhongli

every one tries to uwu-ify zhongli, and i hate it. this man is an archon, one of the oldest. someone who was a warrior. yes, he’s an extinguished gentleman. curtuous, even. i, however, don’t for one second think he’s always like this.

- firm believer that zhongli has to hold himself back, and is quick to anger and frustration, pre current day liyue at least.

- if anyone questioned him, his commands, his leadership, he’d give them a simple look. jaw sat tight, with an expression so unreadable that it would send a chill down their spine, and that alone was enough to silence them.

- in his story quest (i don’t remember if it was his story quest, or an archon quest it was so long ago), he gets aggressive with the fatui when he started to argue. multiple times, he had that look, and stated that “you will suffer the wrath of the rock… you may find it rather unpleasant.” zhongli does not fuck around.

- an aggressive hater of celestia, and the heavenly principals. there were several times post archon war, that he thought about simply handling the issue at hand himself. believed he could, but would be talked down by the other archons, and adepti.

- then the time came where his hand was forced into a contract with the principals. since then, his anger has subsided at least on the external front. every day, he tries to find a way out of that contract without breaking his own morals, and his own meaning as the god of contacts himself.

- now listen. zhongli stepped down from being an archon, but that does not mean he is no longer a god. the gnosis does not equal godhood. while i believe that he did step down because liyue was entering a godless era, i believe he did it for his own selfish reasons as well. zhongli is known for his intelligence, and he knows that war is coming. in one of ei’s voice lines, she states that she believes his story is far from over. i believe that to be true, he has his own plots, and i think he intends to assist the tsaritsa in taking down the heavenly principals. whether it be directly, or indirectly. he’s up to something. he knows far more than he states. his power has not dwindled one bit.

- zhongli hates the idea of erosion, despite talking about it so casually. i think that it terrifies him. that the thought that one day, all of his memories could fade, and that he’d no longer remember. because of that. due to this, the adepti have began to keep journals, or other forms of keeping track of his retellings. each of them have their own version, so that if one day, rex lapis does not remember his own stories, they will be able to remind him bit by bit.

wriothesley

- oh this man has got a past. the orphanage was not pleasant to him. not in the slightest. wrio blames himself for not noticing sooner. not seeing that some children left, and didn’t return. once he began piecing things together, he knew what he was going to do. he couldn’t allow these things to happen, even though he himself was also a child.

- when it came time for him to kill the parents of the orphanage, he didn’t even hesitate. it happened so quickly. it was brutal, messy. a child can’t carry out something clean, and effortlessly. after releasing the other children, he turned himself in.

- wriothesley has ptsd from this, and reoccurring nightmares. not from the murder, but from the children he couldn’t protect sooner. due to that, his sleeping patterns are not good, and borderline unhealthy. instead, he busies himself with work, and fights in the pankration ring.

- now, when wrio got sentenced to the fortress, it was unpleasant for a child. at first. i think rather quickly, he gained the trust of other inmates. inner circles. it taught him quickly about survival. about calculation, gave him cunning traits, and taught him how to deal his cards just right.

- once his sentence was done, he stayed and became the warden. he wanted to change the fortress. i like to think that the warden before him wasn’t a good person, and that the conditions of the underwater prison weren’t great. once he took over, he changed it all. he likes to view it as more of a rehabilitation center, than a prison.

- the scars on wrios neck are definitely from the orphanage, and i refuse to believe otherwise. perhaps something that happened when he first found out what was happening. he confronted the parents, and ended up with those scars from something terrible. it damaged his vocal cords quite a bit (going off that one hc i saw on tiktok awhile ago that i don’t remember where it came from). the scars cause him quite the bit of discomfort sometimes, it’s a mild irritation. that’s why sigewinne tries to give him those gross health shakes to drink. its a remedy for the soreness.

- during his story quest, the traveler asked if he uses the iron fists in his fight in the pankration ring. he said not always, but sometimes you’ve gotta do what you gotta do right? that man is NOT above playing dirty. he’s an undefeated champion in that ring, and when anyone hears they’re facing him, they’re terrified.

- ^ HOWEVER. he’s decent enough to take those he defeats to the head nurse, get them treatment, and ensure they’re doing fine afterwards. in his trailer, we see him giving them handshakes, nods of acknowledgment. he doesn’t fight to be an asshole, it’s to keep the respect, and well- also a distraction for himself.

- now, if i see one more person say that wriothesley is the type to listen to hardcore rock music, i’ll scream. when we are in his office, he put on music that was similar to that of jazz. wrio is a jazz man, classics, instrumentals. it’s calming to him. firm believer that this man would listen to something like sway by michael bublé religiously.

- even though i believe that wriothesley has it in him to be a gentle man, a gentle lover, i can still acknowledge other aspects about him. he’s a flirt. have you seen how confident that man is? he’s shameless. he knows he’s attractive, and he knows how to sway someone so effortlessly. sinful french falls from his lips like it’s second nature, with such a gentle touch that it could have anyone in the palm of his hand and he knows it.

- he’s so busy with the work of the fortress though, that he doesn’t believe he has time for anything that’s actual romance. i’m not saying that he sleeps around (don’t give this man the gojo treatment guys), he simply flirts and sometimes he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. due to his schedule of business in the fortress, if he did end up developing feelings for someone, i believe it would be someone who either frequents the fortress for work, works there directly, or someone who just as much as of a work ethic as him. he needs someone who understands how hectic it is, so that he doesn’t feel neglectful for not being able to supply his full attention to a partner.

- okay my last one for wrio may be a stretch. i’m not 100% sure of the past of the fortress of meropede, so i can’t say if its symbol has always been the three headed dog of cerberus. however, i like to hc that it only became that after wriothesley became the duke. the symbol of cerberus means the past, the present, and the future. wrios past in the orphanage/the way the fortress operated before him, the present day of his control of things, and the future that he sees for the prison and its inmates. cerberus is the gate keeper, a symbol of loyalty, devotion, tenacity, and protection despite being perceived as a terrifying figure to others. i believe that’s how wrio see’s himself.

lucifer

ANOTHER MAN PEOPLE TRY TO UWU-IFY. STOP IT! HES THE LITERAL FUCKING DEVIL YOU MFS.

- lucifer is the original sin. pride. you cannot be the king of hell, and not have your mind plagued in darkness, full of sin, and questionable morals surrounding your duties.

- in the pilot episode, everyone believed that he wasn’t a good person, that he abandoned charlie, that he was rough, that he didn’t care about the sinners, and only wanted control.

let me tell you why, to an extent, that’s still true.

- lucifer tried to convince charlie that the sinners were awful, terrible people. he did not want her involved, and tried to deter her away from the path of redemption for hells inhabitants. he firmly believed that. i think he still believes that, but, he was slightly swayed by charlie’s words and beliefs. after lilith left him, he became secluded. lucifer wasn’t present as a father. right now, he’s trying to reconcile that, and support her despite not believing in her views himself.

- now, i think that part of the reason why lilith left him was due to his views. with how charlie talks about her, she had similar views as her once upon a time. lilith didn’t like that lucifer viewed the sinners as disposable. it angered her, so she left and that hurt him beyond compare.

- how could anyone expect lucifer to have full faith in redemption for the sinners, believe they were worthy of anything? lucifer is the original sin, they exist because of him. how could he face them, have any love in them, when it only reminded him of his failures as an angel, it reminded him of his pain, his tarnishment of his once devine place? he is pride, of course he can’t face them.

- i also read somewhere once in biblical lore, that without sinners, the seven deadly sins powers would dwindle. if people did not have pride, if they weren’t ridden in that sin, lucifer could lose a portion of his power overtime, be weakened. i personally like this, because that’s a solid reason why he wouldn’t want anyone to be redeemed.

- lucifer was abandoned, tossed aside by his father, by his brothers, for what? having a different opinion, wanting to offer different views. in result, it created darkness, pain, it created hell. lucifer is the cause of it. he carries heavy burdens, guilt, eons of trauma. for a millennia, the only thing he has seen is the pain, and the darkness of others in people he tried to defend.

- i need to see his rage, i need to his anger, his darkness, and inside his mind. i know it’s there, and its aching to be released. give me the fight between him and heaven. lucifer is one of the strongest beings in creation, show me his power.

not related to any of that, however!!

there’s a song called whisper by burn the ballroom that i believe fully captures the idea of falling in love with lucifer.

- “so give me your fire, give me your fear, give me your faith when love gives you tears. give me your heart, give me your fate, give me your hand when love gives you hate. give me your prayers up on your feet, and i’ll give you a show it helps fill the seats. so give me your sins, give me your lies, but whisper your love and i’ll whisper mine.” lucifer is so debated after lilith, that falling in love with someone who accepted his sins, his darkness, his rage- it was so foreign. it terrified him of that loss again. he needs someone who understands that depth, his reasoning, his hesitations, his views.

- additionally, the song had a line that says: “and he cries out to god, how could you claim them all when i know that they’re all mine?” this goes hand and hand with my view of lucifer not wanting to redeem sinners for the sake of his power. additionally, imagine how hurt and pissed off he would be when the first sinners get redeemed. how could god, how could heaven accept those redeemed back into the heavenly gates so willingly, but have turned their backs on him with a second of hesitation or his own chance of redemption?

GOD I LOVE LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

i am so in love with all of these characters, they are so complex, with so much depth and characteristics to analyze. i’m snorting it all like crack 24/7 <3

[capseycartwright]

ok i am going to get uncomfortably personal on main for a second please don’t make eye contact with me. this new trend of people vehemently saying that any storyline eddie may have about religion this season doesn’t ~ have to be ~ about his sexuality is genuinely a little upsetting to see because it’s not just oh it can be about something else anymore. so often recently i have just seen over and over the implication that it’s somehow wrong to so desperately want it to be about his sexuality - and maybe the intention is not for it to come across that way, but it often does.

as someone who grew up in a deeply religious, frankly strict, catholic environment (my school had an on campus priest. like that’s the level of catholicism we’re talking about here. i was in the big leagues) i freely admit i am clinging to the idea of eddie having a sexuality related storyline that revolves around his faith because i want that and i needed that when i was fourteen and struggling to come to terms with my sexuality because i was such a devout fucking catholic. i have done all the sacraments. i spent my entire life in catholic education. i didn’t miss mass any sunday for eighteen full years of my life. i was fucking religious. and i am bisexual. and i could not accept it. i didn’t even begin to accept it until i was 21. i didn’t even want to accept it then. i will have that religious trauma for the rest of my life. and i don’t even know how to articulate myself properly when i talk about it now, years later, but it’s not just the unlearning of your own faith that’s traumatic - it’s the loss of a community you spent your entire life in. that’s gone forever for me and it leaves behind an ache that’s hard to describe.

eddies faith journey could be about anything, sure, it absolutely could. but i need it to be about this. and i will make it about sexuality in every fic i write even if i don’t get it on screen - and i really hope i get it on screen. i am not the only person who feels that way. and this new wave of ~ discourse ~ where you’re somehow wrong to want eddies faith storyline to be about his sexuality because it couldn’t possibly be about anything other than heterosexuality and him feeling like a failure because he was going to get divorce and no longer have a nuclear family makes me feel about as small as i did when i realised the church i had loved (and still frankly love - despite it all, despite how much i wish i didn’t) my whole life would never love me back. we all have our interpretations of what these things mean, and are more than entitled to those differing interpretations - but what you’re not entitled to do is imply those of us who see our queer, catholic journeys in eddie are somehow stupid or wrong for seeing that.

i don’t like talking about this stuff. i write fic where i make eddie talk about it instead. that’s my way of processing. i just think a wee bit of empathy when it comes to things like faith and queerness - knowing so many of us share the same story about religion and sexuality, and intimately know how hard that story is to live, regardless of what faith you followed - is important. you might not see queerness in a storyline about faith or believe it’s there but lots of us do, and being so dismissive of that is just kinda mean, actually. ok bye.

[kcthelazyartist]

Something of note is the ‘MCGUCKET’ code on thisisnotawebsite.com and how the song  further confirms that Fiddleford is the reason for Bill not getting Ford in the end. This could either be just plot related [As Fidds leads to his downfall] but is more likely in a romantic sense as it references the singer not being married due to the other. 

This could be just making fun of Fidds or be from Fidds’ perspective, but as Fidds won in the end and Bill lost Ford this is unlikely. Instead, it's likely Bill showing his frustration at Fidds getting in between him and Ford.

This could also imply two things, Fidds being too wary and perspective got in the way of everything, or Ford had feelings for Fidds instead of Bill.

In regards to Ford changing the story from ‘A Tale of Two Stans’ to ‘The Last Mabelcorn,’ when Ford was pushed through the portal queer people were about 4-6 years away from being legalised and it was very looked down upon. Of course when he first arrives home he is unaware of the current state of queer politics and is going to assume it will be the same as when he left. 

This could be an explanation as to why he changed the position to something less intimate. Alongside the wording used around him saying he’s glad he's friends with F with the ‘…’ before explaining that Fidds would be terrifying as an enemy, as well as Bill constantly mentioning ‘the hillbilly’ and putting him above Ford’s own father, his feelings towards Fiddleford are very suspicious.

Another suspicious thing on his end is that he writes literal pages about gifts he is given by Fiddleford and Bill at one point [The squash, the gloves and snowglobe, the axolotl…]

@hugenthusiast recently made a post discussing the line, ‘Go back to your doting family and a life of fear and compromise,’ and the queer undertones and comphet feel around the phrase. I would like to expand on this idea and how queer the context actually is.

Starting off with the line directly after, “I weep not for our failed partnership, but for the golden opportunity thrown away! To think I considered him a friend! I know my true friend. It is my Muse.’ This line adds more context that makes the line they pointed at that much more queer, Ford telling Fidds to go back to his family then saying he isnt crying over their partnership but something else makes it sound like a breakup. Ford then compares his friendship to Bill’s, whom he has a queer relationship with.

Combining this with the full page rant and how he was willing to tell Fiddleford about his muse even after years of manipulation and it just feels like a breakup. Ford throwing away the ring also adds to this as it mimics people throwing away things related to their ex and another thing that mimics a breakup is Ford calling Fidds names.

Now going back to the line @hugenthusiast points out, whilst fear and compromise in this context is supposed to be about the portal it is a bit of a double-sided phrase as compromise can mean making do with less than ideal circumstances and being married to someone you have no interest in absolutely fits that, and the fear of outing was very real during this period of time.

‘Doting family’ is also interesting as mixed with the second half of that line it seems as though taking away the fear and compromise would alter his relationship with his family, whom later turn their backs on him, showing how rocky their relationship is and his family's bias’ as they don't even try to help him. I feel like this mixed with how he chooses not to go back really says something, ford calls his family doting yet he doesn't return to them?

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.2 (Anemone) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 4,218

Notes: I don't feel like the summary completely matches this story anymore. I'm also not really satisfied with this chapter, but I'm too tired to really get into a whole bunch of drafts and edits, I've just really been feeling poorly lately. The archive is for writing progress anyways, it's fine. I'll probably rewrite this whole chapter if I ever get to where I'd be comfortable posting finished versions to Ao3. I'm also just not fond of my writing style somehow. It feels too formal, doesn't flow enough. Problem is that I really talk like that lmao. Idk, I'll figure it out.

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part (coming soon <3)

Bangchan clambered into the van behind Felix, Minho and Jisung loading into the row in front of them. It always felt a bit weird to not spend some time swapping seatmates around based on who was clinging to who at the moment, but on days like today it was easier to just board the vehicles as quick as possible.

He's ended up with a relatively quite combination of their cluster today, and Chan was grateful for it as he settled into his seat with a pained grimace.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but a persistent on-and-off pain had been roaming around his back for the last twenty minutes as they’d said goodbye to Stays and prepared to leave the venue. He’d be more worried about it, except the sharp, needle-like, pains would settle into a gentler ache before kicking back up again.

As it was, Chan was pretty sure he’d pinched a nerve or strained something and would simply rest when he got back to the hotel. Maybe call up the PT. For now, as three of his soulmates settled in around him, Chan was content to leave it be.

Well, almost. Another twinge of pain makes him wince as he twists to buckle in, and Chan decides that maybe it’d be a good idea to know what he was working with. For comfort’s sake, if nothing else.

“Felix,” He prods the blond next to him, “Can you look at my back for me? I think I pinched something.” He motions toward his lower back, where the majority of the pain had been accumulating.

Felix immediately nods his acceptance, their group’s resident massage expert always willing to lend a hand. Especially if it let him lay hands on his very well built soulmates.

Chan scooches forward and rotates around, balancing with his hand on the headrest of the seat in front of him. He helps Felix shimmy his shirt upwards, struggling with it where it gets caught in the seat-belt.

Chan ends up stuck struggling on his own as Felix chooses that moment to direct his eyes and hands to the afflicted area.

“There’s your first issue,” Felix tuts, “You’ve left your concealment tape on. You’ll give yourself a rash one of these days, hyung.”

Chan gives a sheepish smile from where he’s managed to trap himself in a cloth prison. His head is free, and the shirt his appropriately bunched up over his shoulders and around his neck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to free his hands, so he’s got a bit of a t-Rex thing going on right now. It’s fine.

“I forget it’s there,” he confesses with a whine, “I can’t see my own back, y’know?”

Felix rolls his eyes at their oh-so-glorious leader, carefully peeling the thin material away from Chan’s skin as he scolds, “You still need to take it off. We sweat way too much to not at least change it after a performance.”

He’s bunching up the extra-strength tape to maybe toss at Jisung in the front seat (maybe Minho, if he’s feeling very brave), when he spots something off.

More than half a decade into having found each other, the members of Stray Kids were intimately familiar with each other’s soulmarks. Every drop of color, every line, every curve.

So when Felix looks at the freshly uncovered canvas on Chan’s back, familiar trees, bushes, and rocks painting a forested landscape that describes their impact on their eldest, something new immediately catches his eye.

There, on the fallen log that bridged two banks of a crystal-clear creek, was a moss blanket and a cluster little shelf mushrooms. They added life to the previously defunct object, a little bit of color that couldn’t have been said to be missing until it wasn’t.

The closer Felix looked, the more he saw. A mushroom here, a mossy patch there. Little signs of life and decay that he could have sworn weren’t there the last time he looked.

He looks to Jisung, who’s blissfully unaware.

As the first of their cluster to paint Chan’s skin with color, he was the most familiar with their leader’s mark. Jisung had been too young for his own mark to have appeared when he’d met Chan, but that didn’t stop him from influencing their eldest’s. They all knew he’d spent a lot of time studying Chan’s mark (and Changbin’s when it had appeared, already partially colored in) while waiting for his own.

If there was anyone who’d be more than certain of a change in their soulmarks, it’d be Jisung.

Felix swiftly removes his hands from Chan’s back, earning him a little noise of confusion from the prone man, and reaches over to poke Jisung harshly in the side.

Jisung immediately flinches away from the offending fingers with a loud yelp, attracting the attention of Minho, who’d been peacefully scrolling on his phone. Jisung swiftly fixes Felix with an offended glare, ready to retaliate, but is cut off before he can even try.

“Look at Chan’s mark for me.” Felix demands.

“My mark?” Chan echoes, baffled and alarmed. “What’s wrong with my mark?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Felix assures, “I just need to check I’m not seeing things.”

A series of furtive, silent, and, on Felix’s part, urgent, gestures are exchanged before Jisung finally relents and leans around the back of his seat, grabbing Minho’s for balance as the van departs.

Jisung lazily traces his eyes over Chan’s soulmark. All of Stray Kids had huge marks, but Jisung privately thought that Chan had them all beat. His mark spanned his entire back, not an inch untouched by the image. From shoulder to hip was an oil painting of a mark, filled in from what used to be a desolate landscape to what was now a thriving forest.

Jisung used to think it was so overwhelming to be part of such a mark. To be loved so much, and so deeply. It was evident in every brushstroke of the image on Chan’s skin, and in every action of the man himself.

These days, he found great comfort in it.

He’d gotten so lost in thought as he studied his soulmate’s mark that Jisung had almost missed what had caught Felix’s attention in the first place. But sure enough, his eyes catch on the same log that Felix’s had.

“Oh.” He whispers to himself. “Oh.” He says again, as Minho shoves his head under Jisung’s arm to look himself.

“No, yeah, that’s different.” He confirms, Minho nodding against him, having already spotted it for himself. The two of them find their eyes glued to tiny mushrooms, only sparing a moment to glance at each other before returning their gaze to Chan’s skin, each with their own racing thoughts.

“I thought so.” Felix nods to himself.

“What?” Chan questions, becoming more alarmed by the second, “What’s going on? What’s happened? What’s wrong with my mark?”

Felix lays his palms flat on Chan’s back and begins to rub gentle, soothing, circles. Any changes to a soulmark were stressful at the best of times, and they all knew how much Chan treasured his.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Felix soothes, letting the warmth of Chan’s mark resonating with his touch calm them both as he searches for gentle words.

“It’s just,” He begins hesitantly, “Well, the good news is that you haven’t pinched or strained anything.”

“Good news?” Chan echoes, “Is there bad news?” He lets a nervous giggle fall from his lips even as he relaxes into Felix’s hands.

“Not necessarily?” Felix says uncertainly, “It’s just. Well. Your mark has changed.” He pauses a second and pulls out his phone, quickly snapping a picture and then passing it around so Chan can see. “Something’s been added.”

Felix lets the implication of his words sit untouched in the air as the three of them wait for Chan to process what this means.

Ironically, Chan was the least familiar with his own mark out of all of them. His and Minho’s both resided on their backs so it stood to reason that the two of them didn’t see their marks very often. So it was no surprise that it took Chan several, very long, moments to spot the tiny changes.

When he does, Chan pulls in a deep, stuttering breath. The pain is already fading out to an ache now that it’s been acknowledged and Chan isn’t sure how he feels about the extra confirmation.

He carefully pulls his shirt back down, breaking his soulmate’s line of sight like they hadn’t already burned the image onto their retinas. He doesn’t remove his eyes from Felix’s phone.

“I...” He trails off, “I have another soulmate?” His voice is filled with wonder as he marvels at the picture of his mark. He looks up at the rest of his soulmates currently in the van with awe. “We have another soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Minho whispers, voice choked with emotion, “Yeah it looks like it.”

Felix doesn’t wait for Chan to fully turn around before he’s pulling their leader into a bone-crushing hug, giddy, disbelieving, laughter spilling out of him even as tears prick at his eyes.

“Oh my god!” Felix celebrates quietly as Chan wiggles to return his hug just as tightly. “Oh my god.” The other man agrees.

Even as his soulmates celebrate around him, each feeling their own storm of emotions, Chan can’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

Stray Kids was a uniquely large soul cluster. From the beginning, when it had become evident that Hannie wasn’t his only soulmate, it had caused issues. Then came Bin, and the rest had followed like dominos. Each time their circle expanded he’d thought “this has to be it, right?” and each time there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, “No, not yet.”

The issue was that that feeling, that little voice saying ”not yet”, the knowledge that they weren’t complete, had never gone away.

By the time they had all met, none of them could spot anything obviously missing from their marks. All of them were completely colored, lines drawn, images complete. And yet, every one of them felt that hollowness of an incomplete bond.

They’d talked about it a lot. Individually, as a group, in pairs and in quartets and seemingly endless combinations. It was hard, as the years went by, to ignore that nagging feeling.

Chan would always remember Jeongin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, crying and apologizing for not being enough. Could never forget taking Jisung to a rage room so they could both break down their feelings or drinking with Changbin and wondering if it was wrong for them to be so greedy as to want more when they already had so much.

After so many years, they’d begun to wonder if they were just broken. If they didn’t have another soulmate out there after all, and it was all in their heads.

It had been hard. It was hard.

And now that little blank space in his soul was painted with someone else’s colors and Chan felt whole in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience.

It kind of made him want to cry.

He wanted to cry even more when Felix innocently asks, “So what were they like?” An unmatched eagerness in his eyes as Chan pulled away.

That one guileless question triggers a realization in Chan that has his groaning in despair and slumping forward back onto Felix’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Chan mumbles into the shoulder of the slighter man.

“What was that?” Jisung questions from where he and Minho were still turned toward him, obviously as curious as Felix.

“I said I don’t know!” Chan wails, wilting further into Felix’s frame.

“How do you not know?” Minho questions incredulously. Felix gasps as he connects dots he’d been too excited to before.

“I didn’t even know my mark had changed before now,” Chan explains miserably, “I don’t even know exactly when the pain started.”

Jisung sucks in a hiss of air, sympathy splashed across his face. “Oh geeze,” he breathes out, “How many people have we met today alone?”

“Ok, well,” Felix interjects, “Not ideal, but we’ll figure it out!”

Minho turns his incredulous stare onto the optimistic man.

"How are we going to figure it out?" He demands, "Because there were tens of thousands of people in that stadium and I know every single one of us shook dozens of hands tonight."

Felix wilts a little bit even as Jisung comes to his defense, "We kind of have to figure it out, hyung," he points out, "And soon. We're back to Seoul soon."

"Okay but how?" Minho challenges, "And don't give me any 'with the power of love and fate' crap."

"We might have to rely on fate." Chan shrugs, dejected. "It's not like I have a description or anything to give out."

"It'll be okay Channie hyung," Felix pats Chan's back lightly from where they're still entangled together, "It'll have to be."

The van descends into silence as the four of them contemplate their new situation. After a few minutes Chan leverages himself up and out of Felix's embrace to frown aimlessly at his knees.

"Well," Felix breaks the silence, "We don’t have any more shows after this, and we have some days of break time, right?”

“Right,” Chan confirms, “We have tomorrow off and then we’re returning to Seoul to start working on the next album.”

“But officially,” Felix hedges, “We have, like, an entire week off, don’t we?”

“Not quite, but sure,” Chan hesitantly agrees.

“Well, we know they were in town for the concert at least,” Felix continues, “So as long as they didn’t leave the city immediately after, I mean, there's seven more first contacts to go, right?”

“Are you saying we should spend our break wandering around trying for first contacts?” Jisung asks, “Because I’m all for searching for them, but I don’t know that aimless wandering is gonna help.”

Chan holds up his hands to halt that conversation before it could devolve into a bigger debate.

“Let’s shelve that for now, and meet up with the others at the hotel,” He suggests, “We should discuss this as a group anyways.”

He receives a variety of agreements and the four of them settle in for the short remaining drive back to their hotel. He absently hands Felix’s phone back to him and retrieves his own from his pocket to ask the others to meet them in his room.

Chan looks out the window, post-concert fatigue all but a memory. As the buildings pass by, he can’t help but hope that their mystery soulmate was looking for them too.

You reaffirm your decision to never ever meet your soulmates as Taylor loads you into the car, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder the whole way.

It was one thing when your stupidly large soul cluster was just an idea. Knowledge you held, but unactionable in any way.

It was another when you had evidence, in the form of little white flowers burning with warmth on your skin, that they were real, physical, people.

Even worse when you knew that they were a group of very famous musicians.

You hadn’t actually been sick when you’d texted Taylor, who’d thankfully managed to get all of the autographs he’d wanted before he’d checked his phone to try to find you, but you were getting there. Anxiety had nausea creeping up your throat like molasses.

You’re beyond grateful when your roommate doesn’t question your sudden illness, the both of you well aware that you were hale and hearty when you’d left the house.

Taylor just buckles you in like you’re something precious and fragile and takes the wheel.

The two of you drive in silence the entire way home. It’s not awkward, but you can’t deny the weight of something heavy in the air. The buzz of the concert still lingered between the two of you, and it only made the silence stifling and itchy.

When you pull into your apartment complex neither of you speak for a long moment.

“Sorry for ruining the day.” You murmur to the air in front of you. Taylor just reaches over to pat your thigh and unclip your seatbelt.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” He assures, “Don’t sweat it.” He hesitates a moment before continuing.

“I’m not gonna push,” Taylor begins gently, “But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened, I’m not gonna judge. I just wanna be here for you.”

“What makes you think something happened?” You mutter mulishly. Taylor just gives you a look that has you sinking into your seat.

“It’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic.” You admit. He bumps your shoulder with his and climbs out of the car.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you feel something.” He tells you as he goes. The two of you walk up to the apartment in silence, contemplative this time.

You think about telling him as the two of you separate to wash the concert off of yourselves. You think about it as you take turns using the bathroom and as you make dinner side by side. You think about it as you settle in front of the couch at his feet as his hands automatically pull your head to his knees, his fingers digging into your hair just how you like.

You want to tell him, you decide. You do. It's just that. Well...

Your sister was right, in a way. You’d known Taylor for over a year now, but the two of you didn’t really know much about each other. You really were just roommates.

You didn’t know what his favorite color was. You didn’t know the names of his parents, or if he had any siblings. You barely knew what he did for a living. He’d only ended up your roommate by virtue of you responding to his “roommate wanted” ad with full willingness to be murdered on the spot.

At the same time, the two of you knew everything about each other. You knew how he took his coffee in the morning, that he preferred his eggs dry and over-seasoned. You knew the bands he liked and the games he played. You knew his hobbies better than you knew your own sometimes, and more about his friend’s drama that you ever wanted to.

You know the important things, you think.

You know that every word you tell him in confidence will be clutched tightly all the way to the grave.

“I met my soulmate today.” You confess, your cheek pressed to his knee, half-asleep.

The words somehow feel like they were snatched from the darkest depths of your soul as they spill from your lips. You make no move to take them back.

Taylor’s hand, to his credit, only pauses for a moment. Then he treats your hushed admission like any other comment made while you nod off to dramas the both of you know you only watch for him, resuming the soothing movement of his hand and humming lightly to acknowledge you.

You think it’s that casual treatment that lets you find the courage to continue.

“Well, one of them anyway.” You mumble. Taylor hums his interest, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen and doesn’t stop petting your hair.

“I don’t want to meet them. There’s so many of them and only one of me, y'know? I don’t even know how to love myself, how am I supposed to love eight other people?” Taylor says nothing still, his eyes glued to an episode of a drama you know the two of you have already finished three times over.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m scared they’ll fuck me up.” Your voice cracks as you breathe life into one of your deepest fears. You realize as you say it that you’ve never voiced these thoughts aloud before, even to yourself.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes when you admit, “I’m not ready for them. I don’t think I can be.”

Taylor finally gives in to the seriousness of the conversation and hauls you bodily up onto the couch. You go willingly, but with rag-doll limpness. He rearranges you to his liking and you find yourself in Gossip Position, sitting criss-cross facing him.

“First of all,” He starts in, his usual levity giving way to a seriousness you rarely see from him, “Don’t be mean to my best friend. I’ll hit you.” You ignore his threat in favor of the warm feeling in chest at hearing him call you his best friend.

Take THAT Ma! No friends your glorious behind.

“Secondly, you are literally the most loving person I have ever met in my life. You would fit the entire world in there if you could,” He pokes your chest, right above your heart, for emphasis, “So I’m not that surprised you have more than one soulmate.”

“I have eight though,” You argue, “Isn’t that weird?”

Taylor just shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But weird is basically your brand, so...” He trails off with a teasing smirk.

You shove him a bit in retaliation, but he just grabs your wrists to still you and continues speaking before you can argue.

“I don’t think eight soulmates is enough for you, honestly,” He muses, “I mean it when I say you’re the most loving person I know. I think you’d even try to take care of Danny if he needed you to.” The mention of Taylor’s very creepy second cousin sends a shiver down both of your spines.

The worst part is that you can’t even argue with him.

“But you know, even with eight soulmates, you don’t have to be with them.” Taylor suddenly switches tracks to reassure you, “They’re your soulmates sure, but you’re your own person. They’re for you, it’s not like they are you. You can live without, if you really want to.”

The two of you let that statement settle for a moment. He’s right, you know all too well. Still, the thought leaves a wad of uncomfortable and complicated feelings lodged in your throat.

After a moment’s pause, you break the silence.

“I have too many years of trauma and not enough therapy money to unpack everything I’m feeling right now.”

Taylor cracks first, and giggles come pouring out of the two of you. The joke wasn’t even funny, but you guessed the two of you had been serious for far too long.

Some minutes later, when the giggles finally die down and you return to watching Taylor’s show, you find yourself with your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you, right?” Taylor quietly picks up where the conversation had left off.

“Sure,” you agree, “Like I was there for you when you cried over a boy I told you wasn’t shit.” You completely deserve the elbow to the side you receive for that comment.

“Shut up, I’m being cheesy!” Taylor scolds with a laugh.

“I’m lactose intolerant!” You complain, but obligingly fall silent.

“Seriously,” Taylor insists, “I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”

You wrap your arms around the one of his that you’re leaning on and give a gentle squeeze to show your appreciation. “Thanks Tay.” you murmur.

“Of course. You got me front row tickets to a SKZ concert, we’re ride or die whether you like it for not!” You poke his side to scold him for not being serious after just insisting that you be, but end up having to fight for your life when he immediately retaliates by trying to tickle you.

It takes the two of you quite a while to calm down again, Taylor smug in his victory. He holds your ankles in his lap like trophies of war as you stare at the ceiling. The quiet creeps back in quickly, so you speak.

“I’m just not sure what I want, I think.” You tell him, “I don’t want to meet them. But at the same time, I really do, y’know?”

Taylor nods, “Just let the universe do its thing.” he suggests, “If you’re meant to meet them now, you’ll meet them regardless of what you want. But after you meet them, it’s all up to you.”

You nod along, humming your acceptance of his advice. He’s right, again. You can’t really fight fate, even if you desperately want to. But even within that large restraint, you’re a human being with free will. The world is your oyster and all that.

You let your thoughts fade out and just listen to Taylor yap about the drama on the TV as he finally tunes back into it.

It’s nearly dawn when the two of you decide to turn in, post-concert jitters having deserted you and heavy conversations having taken their toll.

“Did you manage to get their name before you bolted?” Taylor asks out of nowhere as you’re walking to your respective rooms. “Your soulmate’s” He clarifies at your confused look.

“Oh, I didn’t need to.” You answer absentmindedly, already opening your door and dreaming of your cozy sheets. “It was Bangchan.”

You close your door on his gawping face, blissfully unaware of the crisis you’d just sent him into.

Perma Tag List: @Mbioooo0000

[rowanisawriter]

writer q&a

thanks for the tag @luvwich i love talking about myself lmao

tagging… @mashamorevvna @yourworsttotebag @swordbisexual no pressure

When did you start writing?

10 or 11 handwriting a three part series in notebooks lol i still remember the plot of my first book which was basically xmen AU. fic writing also started around that time

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

not really, my writing and my taste in reading usually align. even poetry which i read a lot of but don’t write, somehow still sneaks into my writing because i like making things read pretty

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

idk about fic but for published authors i like sally rooney and her character work, and i also love t. s. eliot’s rhythmic style in poetry, im always trying to emulate them

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

i have a toddler to the answer so this for now is my phone on the couch or in my bed in the middle of the night lmao. i’ve learned how to write under weird circumstances, but hopefully once she gives back some of the mental capacity she takes from me daily then i’ll sit at a table or something

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

can’t do it easily lol it comes to me in visions, usually after i read something or see a piece of art but if it’s not there it’s not there

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

i write a lot about religion… no that’s not surprising…. i also write a lot about love… that’s not surprising either lol

What is your reason for writing?

i like stories a lot, and i like being praised, so writing stories and having people read them checks two boxes for me lol

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

all comments are precious, but comments where people find something that i didn’t consciously put into a fic those are my favorite comments. i put a lot of myself into everything i write, sometimes i write things i don’t think about, when someone points it out it feels very personal (good)

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

hope i don’t come across as insane, i want to be aloof and interesting but then people find me on tumblr and learn the truth

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

hopefully emotion, i focus a lot on that instead of setting or plot most of the time so if i get emotion right then that’s good, as long as i can make someone feel something then they’re compelled to continue reading (conversely when i am reading something and don’t feel any emotional connection to the thing then i put it down)

How do you feel about your own writing?

i like it very much, it’s the exact thing i want to read, and it was a very long road getting here to my true voice and style. i reread my own work constantly i really like it

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

i can only write for myself, the motivation to write is only there if it’s something i want to write, even challenges and prompts i struggle with because there is some aspect of “this isn’t truly my idea” that i struggle with. i’ve written things that just aren’t popular (weird ship, quiet fandom, etc) but i wrote it anyway because i wanted to. obvs i want to be read otherwise i wouldn’t post online but i have a good audience now so usually no matter what i write it does get read anyway, so may as well just write what i want lol