#Formal Wedding Attire for Men | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morallygreyyn · 6 months

Note

can we get a second part to do your duty pls?? not even just for the smut, i wanna see the reader grow soft for our boy <3

do your duty (omega!illumi x alpha!reader) (part 2)

description: omegaverse au where after you, a wealthy highborn, presented as an alpha, your parents immediately arranged for your marriage to illumi zoldyck, an omega, when you both came of age. as you began to resent the idea over the years, you had no idea that the allegedly haughty and indifferent illumi had begun to feel the opposite…

authors note: this is my favourite fic that i've ever written, no question. part 2 has been sitting in my drafts for just under a year at this point but i'm so glad i'm finally posting it

this fic will be turned into a full story very very soon (i've started writing it) so if you would like to be tagged when it's posted, please lmk! i'm so excited to be writing it as it gives a lot more depth to this fic that i randomly wrote one day because i was reading too much of the omegaverse genre - enjoy!

warnings: same as the last fic

word count: 7.6k (not proofread we die like men).

tag list (adding the people who commented on my last fic so sorry if you didn't want to be tagged!): @justyanderes @laylasbunbunny @expectroyalpurple @ladies-man217 @nai2fly

read part one here

requests are open! please read my rules!

You stood at the altar, fidgeting with your formal black attire. Surprisingly, you weren’t nervous, just more impatient to get this wedding over and done with. You couldn’t wait to get away from your family, from your intended family, from the prying eyes and expectations. Even if you had to drag Illumi away with you, it wasn’t all bad. At least he would also be somewhere he was appreciated.

His wedding necklace lay on an embroidered pillow, waiting to be clamped around the omega’s neck. It was a tradition within rich families for the alpha to claim their omega with a collar during the wedding ceremony, and a bite to the neck during the honeymoon. Any omega with both the necklace and mark was considered untouchable to other alphas.

A ridiculous tradition but one your families insisted on.

You took in your surroundings with a disinterested gaze. It seemed a wedding of this scale was bound to have a large audience. All of your close and distant family were sitting on one side of the aisle, your bride’s family on the other. You could see Illumi’s younger siblings sitting next to Kikyo and Silva, all dressed in their finest. Killua, the obvious family favourite and the heir to their fortune, was sitting between his parents looking for all the world as if he’d like nothing more than to leave. The rest of Illumi’s siblings wore similar expressions, with the exception of Alluka who just looked happy to be somewhere that wasn’t her house.

You had only a couple of brief interactions with your soon to be in-laws, but from what you could gather, it seemed all of the Zoldyck siblings had a screw loose. Being the eldest, you supposed Illumi had to bear the burden of each of his siblings and all of their unique oddities. Then again, it appeared as though your bride was perhaps the strangest of them all.

When the music started, your heart gave a minute jump. Perhaps you were nervous after all. Turning to face the doors at the opposite end of the aisle, you watched as they pulled apart, revealing your bride. One look at him was enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.

He was wearing white, forced by his family no doubt, and his pale skin almost matched the tone of the fabric. It was an impressive garment, truly fit for a bride of his calibre. His trousers, while tailored perfectly to his long and slim frame, were paired with an almost translucent, billowing shirt that flowed like water with each slight movement. Attached to the shoulders of his shirt was a matching sheer cape with gold and emerald details embroidered from the hem, branching upwards.

Turning your attention upwards, you noticed that his admittedly gorgeous long hair was coiled into a bun at the nape, with large gold needles holding it in place. An odd accessory to choose but it didn’t stand out as peculiar.

Illumi looked as if he was an omegan fairytale prince that alpha knights would slay dragons for. You wanted to laugh at the thought that his family was the dragon and your wedding attire was armour. Your wedding ring that was currently lying on a cushion could be your sword.

Focusing your attention back on your bride, you watched as Illumi’s eyes scanned the room, stopping briefly on his family. It didn’t take a genius to guess what he was thinking. Once his eyes found yours, they didn’t leave your gaze. You tried to give him a small smile in hopes to quell any fears he may or may not be feeling. If there was one thing to come from this marriage, it was that your bride had nothing to fear from you.

The music started up again, and Illumi made his walk down the aisle. He kept his head held high, portraying almost an aura of royalty. All eyes in the audience were on him and you knew he didn’t want to embarrass his family, so with his gaze firmly locked on you, he soldiered on past the people who raised him and headed straight towards where you waited.

It didn’t take long for Illumi to climb the steps that lead to the altar and soon enough, he had joined your side. You couldn’t believe he looked even more breathtaking up close.

“You look beautiful.” You murmured, low enough that he was the only one who heard. Illumi, to no one's surprise, didn’t reply. He just quietly stood beside you, surveying the venue. His scent was stronger today, no doubt a side effect of his upcoming heat. It was difficult to maintain a composed exterior when all you wanted to do was bury your face into his neck and drink in as much of the heady scent as you could.

This was going to be an incredible test of your self control.

On cue, Silva stood from his place in the audience and approached the vacant spot beside Illumi.

The minister approached the altar then, standing before the two of you. “Who gives this omega to this alpha?”

“I, Silva Zoldyck, give my son, Illumi, to this alpha.” Taking the omega’s hand, your soon to be father-in-law placed it in your waiting one. Ignoring the coldness of his fingers, you gently squeezed Illumi’s hand. Silva, having done his part, made his way back to his seat.

“Kneel omega and be brought under the alpha’s protection.”

Illumi dropped to his knees before you, cape and shirt fluttering as he lowered his head to expose his nape. Picking up the glorified collar and feeling the weight of it in your hands, you almost considered walking out then and there. If Illumi was to wear this everyday, surely he’d have neck problems before the year ended. However as everyone was watching, you didn’t even have time to pause. Your fingers brushed over the soft skin of his neck, and clamped the necklace into place, and if your fingers lingered longer than necessary, no one was able to tell. Nobody apart from one.

Illumi rose once you pulled away, his expression betraying nothing of his feelings, if he was feeling anything at all that is. His hand quickly fluttered to brush the foreign object around his neck, feeling its cold, emerald encrusted exterior. At least the green suited him.

It was customary for the omega to wear that necklace in public and you began to hate the stupid tradition that your families were determined to uphold. The saving grace was that Illumi would be yours, and therefore he wouldn’t be subject to anything he didn't want anymore. If your families wanted to follow tradition, then they couldn’t ignore the one that states that the omega belongs to their alpha before anyone else. Not even the Zoldycks themselves had the power that the spouse, now you, holds.

“May all people present today be witness to the union of y/n l/n and Illumi Zoldyck. Today it is their wish, and the will of their families, for them to be joined as one. One heart, one body, one mind, one soul.” The minister paused, and you felt the gravity of the situation sink in. This was really happening. Your fate, that was organised for you so many years ago, the one you thought you could outrun, had finally caught you. The minister turned to you then, not giving you a moment to lament your situation. “Do you, y/n l/n, take this omega to be your lawfully wedded wife and mate? Will you love him, comfort him and protect him? Will you honour and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Do you, Illumi Zoldyck, take this alpha to be your lawfully wedded husband and mate? Will you love them, comfort them and abide by them? Will you honour and obey them, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to them as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

A small part of you was surprised at the utter lack of hesitation in Illumi’s response.

“May the alpha please stand before the omega and pronounce your vows.”

Taking a breath, you turned to face your bride. You didn’t need a sheet as you had thankfully memorised the vows you had written. Truthfully, you had much different vows a few days prior, however last night had you hastily scribbling new ones as you reeled from the events.

“I, y/n, take you, Illumi, to be my omega and these are my vows to you that I shall uphold until my last breath. I promise to put you first above all others, your needs and wants will always be a top priority to me. I vow to never turn you away or reject you. I promise to care for and protect you, and to always take your side should you need me to. I will always honour you and you will never be alone as I am now a part of you, just as you are now a part of me. Till death do us part.”

Illumi’s already wide eyes seemed to have opened slightly wider at your words, if that were possible. Perhaps he didn’t expect those vows to be made to him, or didn’t expect the sincerity behind them. Either way, it appeared as though a light flush was creeping up his neck though you couldn’t be sure due to the makeup that expertly covered his skin.

“May the omega stand before the alpha and pronounce your vows.”

Illumi didn’t have a sheet of paper either and you wondered if he had memorised his too. Then you questioned who exactly wrote his vows because you were sure his family would’ve had some input as to what he was supposed to promise.

“I, Illumi, take you, y/n, to be my alpha and these are my vows to you.” It was almost uncomfortable looking into the omega’s eyes as he began reciting his vows, it felt as though these were for your ears alone and all others present in the room were unwelcome.

You almost missed what he said as you were too shocked at what was happening. Your omega was promising to obey you, care for you, provide support where you needed it, and all you could focus on was the frantic race of your heart. How ironic that you needed support now at this moment.

You gave him a small smile once he had finished, providing some proof that you had been paying attention. Something had shifted in his eyes, they looked slightly less lifeless.

“Does anyone present today reject the union of these two souls?” Not a single sound could be heard and you didn’t expect to find yourself relieved, but you couldn’t deny that you were. The minister then asked for the rings, signalling that your ceremony was coming to a close and so was your free life. Though you could argue that it was never free to begin with.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed.” You repeated, swiftly slipping the wedding ring onto his slender finger, giving his cold hands a light squeeze. You weren’t sure, but you imagined he squeezed back. Then Illumi repeated the same steps, sliding your metaphorical sword onto your finger.

Your fate was sealed. Staring at your new wife, you struggled to comprehend the complex emotions that were surging through you.

“By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife, y/n and Illumi l/n!” Then the minister turned to you, shaking you out of your shock at hearing Illumi having your surname for the first time. You had forgotten about that part. “You may now kiss your bride.”

Illumi closed his eyes and waited, and you realised with a start that he was following your instructions from the night before. Immensely glad that you had already practised, you couldn’t help the small smile as you pressed your lips against his. All the kisses you previously shared flashed through your mind and it was almost impossible to keep it as a chaste kiss, you wanted very much to explore the omega’s mouth the way you did last night. By some miracle, you managed to restrain yourself as sophisticated applause rang out throughout the venue.

Hand in hand, you both turned to face your now joined families. You could feel Illumi’s fingers warming under your touch as you both gazed out at the families who had forced you into this situation. Surprisingly, you felt as though you had gained some power rather than having lost some like you had previously expected. You glanced over at your wife who was looking at his family, something deeper lingering in his usual blank stare. You could only begin to understand what he must be feeling right now. Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, you smiled slightly as he turned to face you.

“We made it.” You whispered as your family ushered you outside the venue to meet the photographer who was in charge of your wedding photos.

Illumi nodded, seemingly unable to find his voice. Subconsciously, you felt yourself grip his hand tighter as you were both suddenly caught up in the drama of arranging family members for the photos.

“Now time for the newlyweds, alone.” The photographer said after what felt like a thousand clicks of the camera, waiting until your surrounding family members filed out of his shot.

Noticing that there was a slight gap between you, you gently pulled the omega towards you. You could feel Illumi jump slightly at the arm you wrapped around his thin waist.

“Sorry.” You murmured, stepping closer to him like the photographer asked.

“It’s okay.” He replied, not looking away from the lens.

Unsatisfied with that response, you leaned to whisper in his ear. “If ever you’re uncomfortable with me touching you, please let me know.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” It seemed as though Illumi wanted to say more, but he restrained himself for reasons unknown to you.

Unwilling to pry, you left it there. “If you’re sure.”

A couple clicks of the camera later, the photographer still seemed unsatisfied with the results.

“Maybe we’re not photogenic enough for him.” You mused, watching with humour as the man fiddled with the focus.

“Or he needs a new lens.”

Chuckling, you turned to face your new wife, photos be damned. You hadn’t expected your wife to be funny, albeit unintentionally.

Illumi turned his head to look at you, lips parted ever so slightly, seemingly shocked by your reaction to something he said. Perhaps no one had ever given him the reaction you just had.

Just then you heard the click of a camera, the photographer's astounded voice following soon after. “That looks perfect! We’re finished!”

Without getting the chance to breathe a sigh of relief, you both were then ushered into a side room to fill out your marriage paperwork while the guests made their way back to your family estate where the reception was to be held. You didn’t even get to utter a word to your new wife as you were both relentlessly hounded into signing sheet after sheet of paperwork by the administrator. Barely having time to process what you were signing, you took what felt like your first breath once you left the room and headed outside.

Illumi diligently followed, matching your steps in silence, heels clicking as he walked.

“I’m amazed you even made it down the aisle wearing those.” You commented, looking at those injury promising shoes.

“They’re not as high as some shoes mother wears.”

“Really?”

Illumi hummed in response, watching as you opened the car door for him. Quickly making sure his attire didn’t get caught underneath him or in the car door, you closed the door and swiftly got into the driver's seat. Pulling away from the venue, you begrudgingly turned onto the main road that would take you home for the reception.

“Maybe now’s the time to run away.” You grumbled after a while, breaking the tense silence between the two of you.

“Why would we do that?”

“Do you really want to spend an evening with our families with us as the centre of attention?” Feeling like it was necessary, you took his empty hand into your free one.

“Not particularly.” Turning away from the window, he stared at your interlocked hands and then at you. “Where would we go?”

Happy your bride was playing along, you cast him a mischievous glance. “Hmm, let’s see. Somewhere far away, preferably warm too. Does anywhere come to mind?”

Illumi shook his head. “I’ve never been anywhere other than my home and yours so I wouldn’t know where to go.”

“Then that makes running away an even greater adventure.” You squeezed his hand and then brushed your thumb over his knuckles. “Perhaps a beach resort on a far away island, or a cabin nestled in mountain woodland? Or how about a skyscraper hotel in a bustling city? Or a cruise ship that takes us to famous tourist spots all over the world?”

Illumi blinked, looking a smidge shocked at all of the options you were suggesting. “All of them.”

“All of them it is.” You laughed, giving him a rare, genuine smile and to your utter bafflement, he offered a small one in return.

You almost stopped the car. Never in a million years did you think your bride had the capability to smile but here he was. Granted, it was barely there, a mere tug at the corners of his lips, but it was there nonetheless.

Careful not to break the mood, you pretended you weren’t floored by his expression and went back to discussing becoming runaways. Before long and before you were ready, you pulled up to your manor.

You sighed, wishing you could put the many plans you made in the car into action. “Are you ready for this?”

“It’s only a couple of hours.” He nodded, looking out of the window to the unavoidable party that awaited you. “Then we’ll be on our honeymoon.”

“Our first grand escapade.” You chuckled as you got out of the car, ignoring the fact that you’d have to deal with Illumi’s heat for a portion of it. You circled around the vehicle and opened the door for your new wife. Taking his hand, you helped him stand in those treacherous looking high heels.

Once he was standing, it was only then that you noticed the proximity. Face inches away, Illumi’s flat gaze was locked on yours.

“Screw them, they can wait another five minutes.” Wrapping an arm around his waist, you pulled Illumi in for a much less innocent kiss than the one you gave him at the altar.

You supposed that his upcoming heat was to blame for his whisper of a whine. Nonetheless, it spurred you on. However it was only a couple of seconds later before Illumi pulled away, though it seemed with poorly veiled reluctance.

“We need to go inside.”

Groaning, you dropped your head onto his shoulder, unable to help yourself from breathing in more of that addictive scent. “It’s not too late, we can still jump in the car.”

“We can later.”

Begrudgingly, you lifted your head and held out your hand. "Let’s get this over with then.”

Nodding, your bride quickly took your hand and you both made your way inside. The sound of applause was the first thing that greeted you, choruses of congratulations rang out from the many guests in attendance.

“There they are!” Your father announced, approaching you with the rest of your beaming family in tow. Illumi’s family also made their way in front of you, looking a little relieved that you had actually gone through with the wedding.

“You’re just in time for the banquet.” Your mother ushered the two of you through the halls and outside to the grounds which had been turned into a wedding reception fit for royalty.

Extravagant tents had been pitched with many tables and chairs for all your guests situated underneath. Strings of warm fairy lights hung from the ceiling, mixed with garlands of flowers. There was even a dance floor and a couple of chandeliers.

Taking your seats at the head table, you watched as everyone else found their places. Your parents sat at the same table as you, yours on your side and Illumi’s on his. It didn’t take long for everyone to be seated, however you did find it a bit funny that some people were hidden due to the giant bouquets adorning every table.

“Attention please.” Your mother called and almost immediately there was silence. “I would like to give a huge congratulations to y/n and my new son in law, Illumi. We welcome you with open arms into this family and wish you a very happy marriage. With that, I’d like us all to raise a toast to the newlyweds. To y/n and Illumi l/n!”

You didn’t think you’d ever get used to hearing that. Absently, you wondered what Illumi thought of his new name.

The banquet was a boring affair. Multiple dishes were put in front of you, each more elaborate than the last. Buzzing chatter from the attendees filled the air, even your parents eagerly chatted to the Zoldycks. It seemed as if you and your omega were the only silent ones.

Determined not to be the odd ones out at your own wedding, you turned to Illumi, making sure to keep your voice low so you couldn’t be overheard. “So, have you thought anymore about where you’d like to go?”

The omega looked at you, seemingly happy enough to be speaking with you and not part of the larger conversation that was happening at your table. “I keep trying but I can’t picture anything.”

“That’s probably because you don’t know what you like yet.” You tapped your chin in mock sympathy. “I’m afraid there’s only one cure for that.”

“What’s that?”

You grinned. “We have to keep travelling until you do know.”

“Okay.” Illumi nodded, apparently liking the sound of your suggestion.

Toasts came after the food and you all but blacked out during most of the speeches, most being the same with well wishes, future children, and inheritance. It was decided before, with heavy backing on your part, that neither you or Illumi would have to make a speech. You said everything that needed to be said in front of family during your vows. Anything else was for your bride’s ears only.

You leaned towards him, lips almost touching his ear. “Was that as boring for you as it was for me?”

Your wife agreed with a bob of his head. “They were all the same.”

“I guess money and children is all we’re good for.” You joked humourlessly, hating the truth to it. “How I would hate to disappoint them.”

“You sound as though you would love nothing more.”

Laughing lightly, you smiled mischievously at Illumi. “Perhaps I would.”

You were brought out of your scheming by your father announcing that the banquet was over and it was time for the first dance.

Groaning internally, you took Illumi’s hand and led him to the centre of the dance floor. You could not only feel your nerves, but you imagined you could feel his too. Dancing? Neither of you had practiced that. Granted, you should’ve expected to dance at your own wedding, but in your defence, you didn’t want to think about it much until today. Vaguely remembering the ballroom dance lessons your mother insisted you take in your younger years, you somehow managed to get both you and your bride into position.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” He whispered as you both waited for the music to start.

“Not a clue, I’m just going with it.” You could see Illumi’s shoulders oddly relax at your words and once the music started, you guided him around the dance floor. Stiff in the beginning, you both began to get the hang of it more and more and soon enough, you were both gliding across the floor. You even chanced it by spinning you both around, Illumi’s cape swirling around you like a ripple of water.

Once the music stopped, everyone applauded and joined you on the dance floor as the music started up again in a continuous loop.

“Looks like we survived.” You panted, struggling to regain your breath. You were only stepping together now, both coming down from the extravagant display you put on.

“Somehow.” Illumi looked at your joint hands, seemingly lost in thought. However, just when you were about to ask, your mother cut in.

“It’s time for the parent dances.”

Ah, you had forgotten that you would be dancing with your mother, and Illumi with his father. Reluctant to let go, you suppressed a sigh and you took your mother’s hand and guided her around the dance floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Illumi watching you leave until his father approached.

“It looked like those dance lessons you took came in handy.” Your mother remarked, pleased to be proven right. “I told you they would and yet you still complained.”

“Yes mother, thanks to you I didn’t make a bumbling fool of myself and my bride.”

She hummed and her smug expression stayed in place for a while until it dropped abruptly.

“It will be a lot quieter without you now.” Her voice was softer, as if she had just realised that she was losing her child today. “Take good care of your omega, we’re quite high maintenance. It takes a lot to keep us happy.”

Actually smiling, you kissed your mother’s cheek. While your family did many things that you disagreed with, your mother wasn’t entirely bad all of the time. “Just say you’ll miss me and be done with it.”

She didn’t hesitate to playfully smack the upside of your head before giving you a serious, pointed look. “Just make sure his needs are met.”

Ah, so she also knew about how Illumi was raised. “I will.”

“I know you will, I raised you right.” She spoke proudly. “Also, I know where you’re going for your honeymoon.”

Neither you or Illumi knew where you were going so it came as a shock for your mother to bring it up so soon. “You do? Where is it?”

“Of course I do, I’m the one who organised it.” She smiled at your eager expression. “We have the family run beach resort which you seem to have forgotten about.”

“The beach resort? As in the island beach resort a couple of miles out to sea?” You stared at her, flashing back to your hopeful conversation in the car a couple of hours ago.

“The very one.”

A whole month by the beach, on an island, away from your families. You couldn’t have asked for anything more than that. “Illumi will be overjoyed to hear that.”

“Will he? I never know what that boy is thinking.”

You laughed, understanding that feeling all too well. “Neither do I but I better start figuring it out.”

“Yes, you should.” Suddenly her gaze shifted past your shoulder. You followed her gaze to where your father stood at the edge of the tent, beckoning you over. “Your father wants to speak to you.”

“This can’t be good.”

“Regardless, don’t forget what I said.” Your mother smoothed your attire, looking more lost than you’d ever seen her in your life. “You did so well, I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

You were frozen, unable to comprehend the words you had never heard directed at you throughout your whole life. “You are?”

“Of course. Look at the responsible alpha you’ve become, how could I not be?” She kissed the top of your forehead before letting you go. “Don’t forget about me in this new chapter of your life, okay? Feel free to take me and your bride out shopping any time.”

Laughing once, you bid your mother goodbye before making your way over to your less favourable parent.

“Father.” You greeted, walking with him out of the tent and onto the grounds. It was night now which made the fairy lights seem all that more inviting.

“Y/n, I trust you’re enjoying your wedding.”

“I am.” You were surprised that your response wasn’t a total lie.

“And your bride?”

“Is probably enjoying it just as much. Speaking of, I haven’t seen him in a while so if you’ll excuse me I should probably get back to him.”

Before you could make your getaway, your father spoke again. “One moment.”

“Yes?” You feigned politeness through gritted teeth.

“After your honeymoon, I expect news of an heir.”

“What?” Somehow, you had almost forgotten about that crucial part. How stupid of you.

“You will do your duty to this family and put an alpha child in that omega as soon as possible.”

Oh you didn’t like his tone one bit.

“That omega is now my wife and therefore a part of this family. You will show him respect.” You couldn’t hold back the sneer if you tried. The way he spoke about your omega had you seeing red. “I will put a child in him if he so wishes and he does, so rest assured, our family will have heirs.”

Your father made a move to reply but you cut him off before he could. “Also, his name is Illumi and he’s now your son-in-law.”

You didn’t bother sticking around to see your father’s face, and you quickly retreated to where you knew you could be alone for a moment. Slipping away from the reception and into the manor, you successfully made it to your room. Throwing open the doors to the balcony, you had a wonderful view of your wedding reception which you had abandoned. Closing your eyes, you quietly listened to the sound of the merriment that you couldn’t bring yourself to be a part of.

Surprisingly, it hadn’t been all bad. You had even enjoyed some parts of your wedding. It was just a shame that your father had to bring you crashing back down to earth.

A child? You weren’t sure you were ready for that just yet. There were still so many things you wanted to do that would become a lot more difficult if you had a child to worry about.

You spent a few minutes wallowing until the sound of heels could be heard approaching from the hall.

“Y/n?” A muffled voice called from behind the door, the only one you wouldn’t turn away.

“Out here, Illumi.” The door to your room pushed open and your bride stood in the doorway, looking at you with that same unreadable expression.

He slowly made his way into your room, drawing closer to you. “Why are you hiding?”

“My father was getting on my nerves.” You admitted, resting your forearms against the railing. “They’re already hounding me about putting an ‘alpha baby’ in you.”

He nodded, as if that made complete sense to him. “I need to produce heirs.”

“No.” You shook your head, hating that your mate was brainwashed into thinking that bearing children was his duty. “You’re mine now. You don’t have to answer to them anymore, not if you don’t want to.”

“I know, I obey you.”

“Not if you don’t want to, Illumi.”

“I want to, I made a vow.”

“A vow your family wrote no doubt.”

“I wrote my own vows.” He whispered, as if unsure he should be revealing this information.

Baffled, you turned to face him with wide eyes. “You did?”

“My parents checked over them, but yes.”

“Then why did you write that one?”

“Because I want to obey you.” You were so sure he’d leave it there, but to your shock, Illumi kept speaking. “You’re my alpha and someone who has my best interests in mind.”

He moved to stand beside you, heels clicking against the marble flooring.

“And that's a good enough reason to obey my every word?”

“I also know you’ll put me and our future children first.”

You snorted. “Still not seeing how this adds up.”

Then your omega did something you never expected to happen twice in a lifetime, let alone twice in one day. Giving you a small, half smile, you had to strain your ears to hear his soft whisper. “I know that you’ll never do anything to harm me.”

It was obviously quite challenging for Illumi to say such a thing as his expression quickly shifted back into one of indifference, but for a brief fleeting moment, you felt as though you had cracked through his impenetrable armour. It was clear that his parents didn’t care for their oldest child, and you wondered to what extent did that mental, emotional and physical abuse scar the boy before you. Being touch starved was about the extent of your knowledge and you shuddered to think about what other things your mate must be dealing with.

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arm over his shoulders and bringing the omega into your side. “You’ll always be safe with me. I'll take care of you.”

You couldn’t stop the mushy words from leaving your mouth even if you tried. You supposed it was the injustice he had faced, you couldn’t help but want to shield him from it all. Perhaps you really were a knight in shining armour come to save the prince.

“Will you?” His voice was quieter than you had ever heard it before. Maybe his upcoming heat was affecting him more than he let on? If this is what he was like before his heat, you wondered with abject fascination at what he would be like during.

Hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head up. Once your eyes locked, you gave your bride a lopsided grin. “I made a vow.”

Illumi took a sharp intake of breath, an uncertain hand slowly coming up to rest on your one. You caressed his cheek, unable to stop yourself from marvelling at his unique beauty. It still hadn’t settled in yet that this was your wife. He now bore your last name. He was your omega. Illumi was yours. Yours.

Perhaps his heat was starting to affect you too.

You could feel Illumi leaning into your touch, as if he was desperate for it. You could also sense his hesitation, unsure what to do with the attention he was receiving, clearly not used to it like an omega should be. You would be sure to fix that. It may take several years, and perhaps all the damage done could never be erased, but you would try your very best to help him through it. Your own private vow to him that didn’t need hundreds of witnesses to hear it. Just one was enough.

“From now on, if you ever feel like you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to ask, okay? Even the smallest of things.” You whispered as you leaned in, unable to bear the thought of someone overhearing. “I promise, I will always be by your side to help you through it.”

Guiding his chin upwards, you brought your lips to his. It was meant to be a simple reassurance kiss however when Illumi so eagerly opened his mouth for you, all innocent notions flew out the window, so to speak. Pulling Illumi flush against your body, you deepened the kiss.

He desperately clutched the front of your shirt, as if you were some kind of lifeline. You could feel yourself doing the same, your grip tightening around his waist, ensuring there was no gap between you. You couldn’t explain how you felt, even if you tried.

From not wanting to be married and pretending as if your bride didn’t exist, to wanting nothing more than him being safe in your arms; your emotions were almost giving you whiplash.

But you didn’t have time to focus on that, not when Illumi was making breathy little moans in your mouth. His whines and whimpers, while still quiet, were a little more audible today. Another side effect of his heat.

Before you both passed the point of no return, you reluctantly broke away. “We better go back down.”

“Can we stay up here for a while longer?” Came a barely audible response, as though he was daring to ask for something unattainable, something he wasn’t allowed.

You were shocked he would even suggest such a thing. “Why?”

He hesitated, unwilling to say too much.

“Illumi?” You tried catching his gaze, wanting to know what thoughts he was locking away. “What’s wrong?”

“You might be stolen away again.” You could’ve sworn his grip on your shirt tightened. “I...”

“What?”

“I don’t want that.”

You would have laughed at the situation if it weren’t for your new wife finally showing some vulnerability. Perhaps his heat was a considerable factor in why he wasn’t as tight-lipped. “Are you possessed?”

“No, I think my heat is already affecting me.” Bingo.

“Ah, so you’ll say what you really think only when you’re about to go into a heat cycle. Got it.” You teased, shooting him a half grin. “Don’t fret, you’re the only one I want to dance with anyway.”

He caught your gaze then, almost too innocent with the way his flat eyes locked with yours. “Really?”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “You’re my bride and this is our wedding. Of course you are.”

“Oh.” Came his response.

You stroked his cheek, loving the way he subconsciously leaned into your touch. “Just a couple more minutes then.”

Standing behind him, you wrapped your arms around Illumi’s narrow waist and looked out at the festivities below.

“Honestly,” You whispered after a couple moments of silence. “This wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting. Even dancing with my mother was somewhat enjoyable.”

“I enjoyed dancing with you.” Illumi’s voice matched yours. “Even if you are terrible at it.”

“I’m not that bad! I got us through it, didn’t I?”

“I suppose.”

“You suppose.” You huffed, resting your head on Illumi’s. “How does it feel now that your surname isn’t Zoldyck anymore?”

“It feels weird.” He paused, considering his words. “But not in a bad way.”

“Weird in a good way? You’re happy to have my last name?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” You didn’t want to say how happy that made you. You didn’t even know the reason why. “Nice.”

Illumi let out a breath that almost resembled a laugh.

“You seem a lot less guarded today.”

“Would you prefer me the other way?” He seemed to ask this honestly, as if he truly wanted to know.

“Absolutely not, I’m quite happy with you like this.”

“I see.”

You left it at that, closing your eyes and feeling the summer breeze that carried the sound of festivities with it. An odd sense of calmness washed over you, one you hadn’t expected to feel in this situation but it was welcome nonetheless. Illumi seemed a lot less rigid in your arms, as though he had finally found a safe place where he could finally, finally let the mask fall.

Maybe you could get used to this after all.

“We really need to go back down there now.” You sighed after a couple of minutes that felt more like seconds, not really wanting this quiet moment to end.

“I suppose we must.” Illumi didn’t move from his position in your arms, nor did you make any effort to remove them.

You chuckled and finding the will to step away, you held out your hand to your new wife, offering him a rare genuine smile. “Let’s rejoin the celebrations. We are the main event after all.”

Heading back downstairs and outside, it was almost as if you had never left at all. The celebrations were still in full swing by the time you spun Illumi back onto the dance floor. As promised, you held on tightly to your omega and didn’t even consider dancing with anyone else who wasn’t him.

A couple of songs had passed before you remembered your previous conversation with your mother. “Oh, I know where we’re going for our honeymoon.”

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“It’s not a surprise if you know.”

“I meant it’s a surprise for you.”

“But I want to know.”

“You’ll know soon enough.” You chuckled, spinning your bride before pulling him back in. “But I can give you a hint.”

“Please tell me where it is.”

It was incredibly difficult not to tell him then and there, but you held firm to your silly little game. “One hint, take it or leave it.”

He huffed slightly, giving in to your ridiculous behaviour. “Fine, what’s the hint?”

“I mentioned it earlier today in the car.”

“But you mentioned hundreds of places.” He protested and you could almost see a slight pout forming.

“Mhm, you did say you wanted to try them all.”

“How am I supposed to narrow it down?”

Your grin turned evil. “You’re not.”

Before he could retort, you pulled Illumi in for a kiss. Smiling at the small noise of surprise he made, you quickly pulled away again. Your good mood soured when you noticed who was getting closer to where you were.

“It’s almost time for you to leave for your honeymoon.” Your new mother-in-law approached, giving you a warm smile before turning to her son. “You must change before you go, follow me.”

“I’ll see you soon.” You whispered to him, placing the ghost of a kiss against his cheek before he was whisked away to change into more suitable travel attire. Your only issue was that Illumi was to be alone with his mother and who knows what sort of nonsense she was going to fill his head with. At least you’d be able to rebuke it now.

You also quietly slipped away to get changed. Having previously set out travel clothes the night before, it didn’t take long until you were back under the fairy lights waiting for your omega. You passed the time talking to some distant relatives, only partially listening to the conversation as you eagerly counted down the seconds until you could leave. You didn’t have to wait long until Illumi returned, side by side with his mother, in flowy clothes, save for his wedding necklace, that seemed a lot more comfortable than what he was wearing a few moments prior.

You watched him as his disinterested gaze scanned the crowd, actively seeking you out. Watched him as he spotted you and looked for all the world as though he wanted nothing more than to run to your side. Before he could move towards you however, his mother caught him by the arm and whispered something harshly in his ear. Illumi nodded and pulled away.

“What was that about?” You asked when he approached, automatically wrapping an arm around his waist.

He just shook his head, clearly unwilling to give the details now. You made a mental note to ask later.

Car packed and ready to go, you were ushered towards the driveway by the rest of your family. Clapping and cheering filled the night as you helped your bride into the car, and finally pulled away from the place you called home.

It was an odd feeling, driving away from your childhood manor to start a new life. Granted, it wasn’t one you had chosen but something told you it wasn’t bad. Sneaking a glance at Illumi, you decided that perhaps this was almost something you would have wanted for yourself, without the family duty aspect.

“Can I get another hint?” Illumi broke the silence first, seemingly thinking very hard about where you were driving to.

You laughed at his helpless tone as you turned onto the main road that would take you to the docks. “Fine, I can’t drive the entire way there.”

“You can’t?” Illumi’s nose scrunched slightly, brain working on overdrive in attempts to figure out where his first adventure would take place.

“Nope.” You were still chuckling as you relished in the odd glow this day had filled you with, feeling lighter and freer than you had in years. Taking your wife’s hand, you began the long journey to the coast.

“How are we going to get there?”

“Ah ah, that’s more than one hint.”

He paused, contemplating the options. “Are we going by rocket?”

You couldn’t help it. His innocent tone had you thrown into a fit of laughter. You had no idea your bride was able to crack jokes, albeit accidentally.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” You had to calm down and focus on the road. It wouldn’t do to die before your honeymoon. “No, we’re not going by rocket. Hate to break it to you but we are limited to this planet.”

The omega hummed and looked out of the window. He then very quickly realised that he couldn’t see much in the dead of night.

When did Illumi get so cute? Or was he always like this and you just never noticed? He certainly wasn’t like this around his family, that much you were certain about. A delicate, warm feeling settled over you at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he was like this only with you. That he was comfortable enough that you wouldn’t judge, yell or reprimand him if he put a toe out of line.

You felt yourself grip his hand tighter.

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ravencincaide · 6 months

Text

Every little girl dreams..

Summary: No one dreams of this type of wedding, let alone wants one like it, and yet that’s the only one you’re getting. Or when you and Chuuya make the decision to stick to your original plan, even if it's the opposite from perfect.

Pairing: fem!Reader x Chuuya

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 9: Deep kissing

Warnings: Cursing and light angst

My attempt to crawl out of the writers block I'm sitting in.

Enjoy~

____

Every little girl dreams about their future wedding. A grand thing with dozens upon dozens of guests gathered to celebrate the union between two souls.The westerstyle church filled to the brim. A priest at the altar and the future husband waiting patiently for his soon-to-be wife. In this grand western style church, the pipe organ begins playing the all-too familiar wedding march.The flutter of flowers and the rustling of the white wedding dress as you walk down the aisle, past rows upon rows of gleeful faces of friends and family all wishing you the best, all envying you as you slowly stroll towards your happily ever after.

Or perhaps you'd envision a traditional wedding at the shrine dressed in layers of silk and fancy kimono swearing your oath more privately, reserved for the gods ears to hear. The celebration would come right after, where your friends and family would cheer for you as you and your beloved feed each other your first bites of cake. You could even settle for a small wedding: a private event reserved for just a handful of guests. Somewhere in exotic or exquisite flower gardens on bright green grass under the open skies. The grand dress, replaced with something simpler; like a suit or even a formal attire.

Yes, there were many things you wanted for your dream wedding. And there were many things you were willing to compromise on for the sake of tying the knot with that special someone. Yet this– this was not something that was a part of anyone's wedding plans. A gloomy bitter seemingly unplanned union that was your reality.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. Your original attire was stained in blood and you were forced to improvise with what you had on hand:your workwear. A dark blue lace blouse with puffy sleeves and white pearl buttons, black skin-tight silky pants and high heels to match. You put your hair up in a bun and decorated it with matching white and blue pearls pins. You made sure to undo the top button in a feeble attempt to look less work-like and chose to forgo your usual black mafia coat. You spend a few moments wiping away the dirt from your heels and removing your chipped nail polish. As if fooling yourself into feeling pretty. you applied a small dot of the perfume sample you found in your pouch on your wrists and behind your ears. The scent was unfamiliar but not awful. You chose to keep your weapons on you however, for a ‘just in case’ scenario.

Then you strolled out of the cabinet-like room you borrowed.

The small wooden church on the outskirts of Yokohama was, like you, in an equally unimpressive state. Most of the wood around the church had rotten long ago; the benches in the mass halls on either side of the isle were broken, scorched or damaged. A few paces away was a gaping hole in the ceiling. Off to the side stood the pipe orgel ready to produce music but with no musician in sight. The altar was the only piece of the church that did not suffer any damage. If anything it looked cleaned and well-polished as if the priest had taken his time to clean this spot up while the two of you got ready.

The door to the right of the altar opened and two men stepped out: the priest and Chuuya.

Chuuya was dressed in his usual work attire which had taken a bit of beating during the previous fight: the clothes were not first freshnes with the exception of a clean white blouse underneath the gray vest. Even his black coat was ruffled; damaged from hundreds of bullets and weapons that had been sent flying towards him. Not injured but not completely unscratched either. The most pristine thing about him were his shoes: newly polished and sophisticated- a glimpse of the Chuuya you’ve always known.

Without a word he took a few steps away from the priest and towards the nearest bench. He tosses his coat onto it, then his guns and weapons.

“ Sweetheart I think we can survive without weapons for five minutes” Chuuya tried to lighten the mood with a joke as he beckoned you over. You followed his example of disarming yourself. Then you took his hand in yours and stepping up to the altar before the priest.

Chuuya didn’t bother lying that you looked stunning, beautiful or breathtaking on your wedding day and you didn’t bother lying to say he looked as handsome as always. You were thankful for this little bit of truth. You did take a moment to wipe away a drop of dried blood from the back of his neck before turning back to face the man with the bible. Chuuya squeezed your hand in reassurance and gratitude, and you did the same.

The priest ran his eyes from you, to Chuuya, and then lingered on your interlocked hands. He chose not to say anything about it.“ Are you two sure you would like to proceed with this marriage union right now and not wait until after the war?”

You looked at Chuuya, expecting him to scream ‘are you a fucking idiot?' 'abort' or ‘too low-quality’ instead he turned to you with a serious look on his eyes and a laidback playful smirk just itching to split his expression into something more familiar, loving and playful. A controlled chaos- a fire burning for you. You replied with a small smile and a squeeze of his hand. You could see Chuuya resisting the urge to drive his free hand into his pocket in a typical delinquent style- an attempt to hide his nervousness. Although it would not have mattered if he did that : with no guests or witnesses. There was no one but the priest to judge you two.

When the priest didn’t start, Chuuya finally broke the silence:“ if we’re going to be on the frontlines with no guarantees, then I’d much rather get formalities out of the way so we can stand together as husband and wife”

You gave his hand another squeeze in agreement before you spoke “ Father, we waited a long time to get married. It doesn’t have to be perfect or expensive, as long as we come out of here united in the eyes of the government, emperor and god.”

“ Have you prepared your wedding vows?” the priest asked with a small frown of disapproval.

“Ehh we’ll just do the traditional ones, right doll?” Chuuya looked the slightest bit flustered. As if he had completely forgotten that there was more to the ordeal than just showing up in front of the priest.

You could feel your heart drop in your stomach, anxiety spiking. Was this really all for nothing? The time you spend getting here all wasted over a forgotten piece of paper? You clutched Chuuya’s hand tighter in your own, while you silently prayed that the priest would still find it in his heart to help you two get married.

Your prayers were answered.

The priest opened the bible and stretched out pieces of paper towards you and Chuuya. Once copy each. “ I had that suspicion and brought copies with me. Alter them how you see fit so they feel more natural. The vows should come from the heart” The priest stood patiently as both of you read the vows through and altered them with a borrowed pen. Then he started the ceremony.

You both stood patiently and attentively listened to the priest: out of the corner of your eyes you could see Chuuya. He was trying his best to contain his emotion, the edges of his lips just itching to spread into a wide grin or nervous laughter. Who would have thought the deadliest and fanciest mafia executive would be getting married, with no friends or family, in such a dumpy church. Indeed the thought made you want to both laugh and cry all at once. Ohh the irony of life.

At the priest's motion you turned to face Chuuya as he spoke his promises of eternal love; in sickness and in health, through sorrows and laughs. Through poverty and bad decisions as well as blessings and good times: “And I promise to love you till death do us part, my Sweetheart”

You turned to face Chuuya as he took your hand in his hand and held it tightly. He then raised your hand and placed a golden band, adored with precious gems and intricate weaving of the metal on your finger.

You gripped his hand tighter, your heart soaring as you recited your vows. As you spoke of your promise to love him no matter the hardships, through sickness and health, through faithfulness and betrayal, through lies and truths. “ and until death do us part, my love”

You did the same for Chuuya, raising his hand, you tugged the glove off. You felt him tense ever so slightly and you squeezed his hand again, reassuringly before slipping the thick golden band on his bare finger. “ Just once, for a few moments, let it sit on your bare skin please” And he squeezed your hand in turn agreeing and accepting.

The priest held his breath before his face broke up into a smile: “ It is my pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife.” His eyes ran from your bright smile with tears threatening to spill from your eyes to Chuuya’s expression which matched your own. Incredibly happy, and unbelievably sad. When neither of you moved the priest urged you to, giving you his permission and blessings: “You may now kiss the bride”

The kiss that you shared was deeper and more passionate than what was appropriate in a church. But the priest merely averted his eyes to give you some privacy. After all this kiss signified both a joyful Hello to a new beginning and a mournful goodbye..

#bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #sweetober #getting married #not a perfect wedding

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callsign-peach · 1 year

Text

A Very Bradshaw Wedding

summary: it’s your and bradley’s big day, from sunrise to sunset

pairing: established rooster x fem!reader (obvi), platonic!dagger squad x reader

warnings: i’ve only ever been to church weddings so if you’re not a fan of church weddings, sorry.

word count: 2,175

The opening tones to the Marimba ringtone pulled you from the slumber you were enjoying, and you blindly grasped for your phone.

“Hello?” You groaned, your voice was still in the dream world.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

“No, that’s not my last name yet!” You stretched, phone pressed to your ear. “I only signed the paperwork yesterday, the court definitely didn’t get them yet.”

“Well,” Bradley breathed, and you were sure he was still lounging in his bed, as well. “I considered you my wife as soon as we signed the marriage license last week.”

“All right, you got me there, B.” You chuckled, trying not to pick at your well-manicured nails. “What time are you supposed to head to the church?”

You could hear Pete and Jake trying to get your fiancé to hang up, so you knew your sister would be knocking on your door soon.

“‘Bout fifteen minutes, I think. Mav wants to get photos of the guys and I in our formal attire.”

You snorted, picturing Bradley and his fellow aviators in their formal uniforms. When the topic of what the aviators were going to wear came up, you teased Bradley relentlessly. “Trying to steal my thunder, Bradshaw?”

“Hey, the guys are about to pound the door down, I’ll see you at the end of the altar.”

“See you in a few, I’ll be the one in white.”

“Not the only one.” Bradley quipped, and you could hear the smile on his face. “I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

You replied the same, not bothering to comment on your surname this time.

As you hung up the phone, the door to the hotel opened, and your sister and Penny piled into the room, Amelia following.

“Good morning, it’s your wedding day!” Your sister was already weepy, plucking a Kleenex from the box on the bedside table.

You thanked Penny for the coffee, the familiar green and brown cup helping wake you up. “What time do we need to be at the church?”

“Hair stylist said to be there by 10, but we need to leave soon for breakfast!” Amelia was first to reply, the teen was only up before nine on a weekend if there was food on the horizon.

You nodded, slipping on a pair of leggings and the zip-up with bride embroidered across the back; a gift from your Aunt Jeanette after you posted your engagement photos on Facebook.

“Is Nat meeting us there?” You asked, grabbing your phone and purse, following Penny and the others out of the hotel room.

“Nope, she’s probably waiting for the Lyft.” Amelia replied, and you smiled.

You weren’t one to have a ton of friends growing up, so the three women joining you for breakfast were your bridesmaids, with your sister as your Matron of Honor.

“Let’s go!” Amelia lead the way out to join Natasha at the waiting Lyft. --- “You ready to be the first married man out of us?” Rueben asked, tossing the football over to Bob.

Bradley looked up from where he was staring at the wedding itinerary, distracted. “Hm?”

“Not even a married man, already distracted by the missus.”

“Fuck off, Bagman.” Bradley replied, no sour tone behind his words. He and the blond aviator had become close friends, with Bradley asking the Texan to be his Best Man a few months ago.

Rueben repeated his question, and Bradley nodded, smile on his face. “Surprised it took this long, honestly. Knew it as soon as I first met her she was the one.”

The men of the dagger squad all teased the mustached man, yelling when Pete walked into the room and caught the football. --- “Oh! You look so good!” Your sister was near tears again, causing you to roll your eyes.

“I’m not even dressed yet, sis.” You looked at your reflection, the makeup artist having finished a few moments prior.

“Remember when Mom would let us try on her wedding dress when we were younger?” You asked. Bittersweet memories of your late mother had been popping up ever since your sister’s wedding four years ago.

“Come on, time for dresses!” You were thankful for Penny’s distraction before you started to cry, not wanting to ruin the beautiful makeup.

Rather than having each woman wear a specific dress, you asked them all to find dresses in matching colors, a light blue to complement the groomsmen’s formal blues.

“You sure you’re okay not wearing your blues?” You asked Natasha, not wanting her to feel minimized by wearing the dress.

“Trust me, I never get to go out to formal events in anything other than my formal blues, I need this.” Natasha smiled, giddy to get dolled up for the day.

You squeezed her hand, letting her go change in the bathroom.

“Have you found your something new yet?” Penny asked, knowing smile on her face.

You were one for traditions, and you wanted to make sure you had all four “somethings” on your wedding day.

You had your something blue; a patch one of Bradley’s old navy blues had been sewn into your dress. Your something old was the Bradshaw engagement ring, passed to Bradley from his mother, and his mother’s mother.

Something borrowed was waiting to be adorned to your updo, your sister’s hairpiece from her wedding day.

Shaking your head, you began to wonder what the older woman had planned. “No, but I’m using my wedding band for that.”

“Mav and I wanted to chip in, make sure you had all you needed before your trip down the aisle.” Penny pulled a long, Tiffany blue box out of her purse, a dainty gold chain with a simple diamond on the end.

“Pen, I can’t! This is too much!” You had tears welling in your eyes, softly shaking your head.

“Oh, hush. It’s the least I can do, getting Rooster to stop moping at the bar.” Penny latched the necklace as you held your hair up, her slender fingers patting your shoulder lightly.

You smiled at her in the mirror, thankful for her maternal presence on such an important day. “Thank you, Pen.” --- Bradley twisted his cuff links once more, nerves starting to get the best of him. “What’re you thinking, Rooster?”

The aviator looked behind him, smiling at his mentor and godfather. “Hi, Mav.”

“You ready for this?” Pete asked. The ceremony was set to start in just over two hours, so all the men were prepared to get the wedding photos done.

“Yeah, yeah.” Bradley nodded, but the older man could tell something was pulling his attention. “I just wish my parents were here.”

Pete sighed, knowing parents were a sore spot for both the groom and bride. “They’re here, Bradley. They’re here and they’re proud.” --- You stared at yourself in the mirror, now adorned in the white dress you had your eyes on ever since Bradley got down on one knee.

Amelia, Natasha, and your sister were already getting their photos done with the groomsmen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

A knock on the door tore you from your reverie, and you looked in the mirror to see Pete pop his head in. “Wow.”

“Hi, Mav.” You smiled, one hand going to your neck. “Thank you for the necklace. It means more than you’ll ever know.”

Pete smiled, softly closing the door behind him. “It’s the least we could do.”

You closed the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around Pete in a hug. “Thank you for being there, for both of us.”

Pete rubbed a hand over your laced-up back, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Come on, they’re ready for the first look.”

You followed Pete down the steps, and out to the small garden behind the church, where you would get a first look at your soon-to-be husband. --- Bradley was antsy, and he almost spun around when he heard the soft click of heels on the stone beneath him. “Hi.”

“Hi, B.” You whispered, tears springing to your eyes. “Ready to become my husband?” You whispered, afraid speaking at full volume would ruin this special moment.

“I’ve been ready ever since I laid eyes on you.” Bradley replied, squeezing your hand behind him. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, eyes watering. “Never thought I’d be okay with my groom wearing white, too.”

Bradley let out a watery laugh. “Everyday is full of surprises.”

“Okay, okay. Before I burst into tears and ruin my makeup, we need to get ready for the ceremony.” You squeezed Bradley’s hand once more, before he heard the sound of your heels retreating. --- The music slowed down considerably after your sister reached the end of the aisle, taking her spot next to Amelia.

You took a deep breath, looking up at Pete as appeared next to your side.

When you first asked Pete to walk you down the aisle, he was speechless. He wasn’t one to think of himself as a father figure, not after he pulled Bradley’s papers, but he was proven wrong when you stopped him after you met up with the aviators at The Hard Deck one night.

“You promise you won’t let me trip?” You asked, wrapping your hand around Pete’s arm.

“So long as you promise you won’t trip me.” Pete replied, stepping up as the opening notes to Canon in D began.

You started the procession down the aisle, smiling at your family, your friends, and Bradley’s family as you walked, but they all blurred as you made eye contact with Bradley. Your Bradley.

Before you knew it, you were across from him, navy whites making his tanned skin pop.

“Hi.” You whispered, smile tugging at your lips.

“Hi.” Bradley replied, smile already spread across his face. --- You heard hollering and hooting from both the groomsmen and audience as you kissed your husband for the first time, his shiny new wedding band cold against your back.

“We’re married!” You mumbled along Bradley’s lips, kissing him once more.

Bradley laughed, pressing one last kiss to your lips before you two turned to walk down the aisle, Bradley raising his newly-adorned wedding band into the air. --- “Now, I present to your for the first time,” you heard the emcee pause for dramatic effect, and you bounced on your heels next to your husband.

“You ready?”

“Give it up for the Bradshaws!”

You and Bradley tossed open the doors to the reception hall, smiles bright as you took in everyone here to celebrate your big day.

You never would have pictured yourself with a military man, surrounded by so many other uniforms and people who you considered a second family. The hollers, cheers, and applause caused tears to spring to your eyes once more, though you doubted it would be the last time.

The music slowed as you two stopped on the dance floor, facing each other.

“Remember, men lead with their left because ladies are always right.” You whispered, teasing Bradley with the line your dance instructor said while you two started taking lessons for this moment.

As you two spun, you smiled at the faces you recognized and the ones you didn’t, rolling your eyes as Jake pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. --- Finally having a moment to yourself, you sipped the white wine in front of your now-finished dinner. The first dances had been a whirlwind of emotions, and the speeches were some of the best.

“Hey,” Bradley stopped next to you, glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Hey yourself, Mr. Bradshaw.” You wrapped your arm around his waist, reading over a few of the notes on the Polaroids that guests had taken.

“Finally escape from Emma and Louise?” Bradley asked, teasing you about your younger cousins being stuck to you like glue.

“They got distracted by Jake’s war stories.” You smiled, pointing at a Polaroid of Pete and Penny. “Their turn’s next.”

Bradley laughed, nodding along with you. “Come on, it’s almost time to cut the cake.” --- You thanked some of the final guests as they departed from the reception hall, promising they’d text you when they made it safely to their hotel.

“Have fun on your honeymoon!” Your aunt Delores squeezed you tight, happy to see you with the man of your dreams.

“But not too much fun!” Delores’ girlfriend teased.

“Oh, hush!” You felt your cheeks heat, ushering them out to their waiting taxi.

Bradley was finishing off his second slice of cake when you reappeared, grin taking over his face. “Come here.”

Curious, you met Bradley halfway, conveniently stopping on the previously heavily-occupied dance floor. “What’s up, B?”

“Can I have this dance, Mrs. Bradshaw?”

Not caring to mention the lack of music, you wrapped your arms around your husband’s neck, soft smile on your face. “I love you, Bradley. Thank you. Thank you for making me the happiest woman on the world.”

Bradley smiled, pressing his lips to yours, humming softly as the two of you shared a last dance. --- a/n: send requests pls :(

#top gun x reader #top gun maverick imagine #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x wife!reader #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw imagine

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lis-likes-fics · 1 year

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Sweet as Sugar

Pairings: Agent Whiskey x Reader Word Count: 11.3k Warnings: NSFW, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pining, cunnilingus, blowjob, slight dirty talk, slight praise kink, cowboy rule, swearing (this is basic smut, I think), Whiskey’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit... A/N: I have a writer’s block toward the end of writing this, so what should have only take about a week took, like, a month. Hopefully, I’m back to writing again but I will make no promises bc it’s too gloomy outside for any good serotonin boost to write with. Thank you and enjoy this peace offering bc Pedro Pascal had found a way into my brain!

The mall was bustling with people, men and women coming and going, passing through to look at all the booths and tables showing off all the different organizations to one another as the convention continued on through the day. It was not just any convention, either. Secret services from all over the world, interconnected and soon-to-be, gathered that day to listen and learn and hopefully form closer partnerships to other companies. The entire building was rented out for this function.

Agents continued to pass by the big booth decorated with rhinestones and flowers, which advocated an elegant simplicity to represent the business they ran. Displayed on either side of the booth were two dresses: one a simple, yet fashionable wedding dress with intricate detailing sewed into every stitch, the other, a woman’s business suit with a flower pin carved from what looked like sapphires. Along the table were pieces of jewelry—watches, bracelets, rings, necklaces, just samples of what the company had to offer—and pamphlets of what exactly it was the business they were running.

And displayed proudly on the sign over their booth was a symbol, a renaissance style ‘Q’ that twisted and curved in classic cursive.

You sighed as you ran your hands along the sleeves of your blazer, your fingers grazing the cufflink on your wrist that matched the symbol of your agency. You had been standing behind your booth with one of three of your coworkers for about an hour now, waning the daylight in shifts between handling the booth and exploring the convention for food or company that was not the women running your station.

You looked over your watch as you awaited the return of your colleagues so you could switch off again, so you could leave the confines of advertising your business. Your outfit—a delicate gold satin button down that loosely tucked into your perfectly tailored white dress pants, which flowed along your legs and matched with white blazer to create your formal attire suit—was a perfect representation of your agency: distinguished and efficient. Your partner, though she wore silver and blue, stood beside you to match.

You smiled and shifted the clubmaster frames sitting at the edge of your nose as Pearl and Jasper returned, both women sending you nods and smiles as they took your places behind the booth for your switch. “We found the Kings just that way,” Jasper said, pointing in the direction they’d just come from before shifting the cloud of coiled black hair away from her face and securing it in a poofy ponytail. She then slipped her hands back into the pockets of her dark red suit, glancing back at Pearl as she spoke.

“They’ve got a nice booth. We might have some competition,” she quipped, smirking as smoothed her fingers over the thin chain of her necklace.

Opal, your own partner, laughed and shook her head. “Don’t we always have competition with the Kings?” she retorted, playful as she turned to walk with you. You agreed with her joke and headed in the direction Jasper had pointed in.

On the way, a pair of eyes spotted you and you offered a large grin. One of the agencies you partner with were the Amadoda Amafulege, the Flagsmen. They were a company set in Africa who you counted on for certain resources: information, jewels or gemstones, fabrics. They were reliable friends.

You and Opal approached them with wide grins, pointing them in the direction of your own booths to greet Jasper and Pearl. The interaction was short but warm hearted, and you were off again before you could be sidetracked by some other business you happen to work with. You both continued on walking, greeting physical bodies and holographic forms with waves and nods.

The large sign of the Kingsman symbol sat atop a booth as two well-dressed gentlemen with glasses stood behind their booth. One of them spotted the both of you, recognizing the likewise fashion choices as you came closer. Opal grinned, a mix of amusement and adoration in her tone at the company which both allied and competed with your own. “The famed Kingsman.”

The younger one smiled, offering a nod to you both. “Hello,” he greeted. When you finally stood in front of their booth, he reached out and handed each of you a pamphlet. You glanced over it, disinterested in absorbing information you already know. Both agents held their hands out for you. “Agent Galahad. This is Agent Merlin.”

The older man, Merlin, gave a courteous nod, “Pleasure to meet you.”

You nodded, shaking his hand confidently. “Back at you,” you responded. “We didn’t know if you’d be coming.”

Merlin gave a nod, smiling with a slight chuckle at your words. The Kingsman had not shown up to the last convention, business had gotten in the way and they were greatly missed. “We pulled some strings.”

You looked over their table at a few gadgets, some disguised as ties or watches, and then looked over at the two suits they chose to display similarly to your own booth. “Good to have the famous Galahad and Merlin,” you said, “and with a good booth.”

Your tone offered your impressed attitude toward their well-decorated station. Some of the booths here had not offered a lot of effort, simply their symbols on a sign and some pamphlets and gadgets on their tables. Plain. Boring.

“Some of these are severely lacking,” Opal said, practically reading your mind. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing the black curls out of her face so she could see as she offered her smile. “You’d think a secret service could put together a decent booth.”

Galahad extended a hand with his suggestion, "You should stop by the Statesman. You'd probably be impressed."

"We'll keep it in mind," you agreed, picking up one of the fancy watches on display. You examined it, the Kingsman symbol hiding under the glass, the gold lining on the band, the knobs and secret accesses embedded inside.

Merlin smiled, "In the meantime, we shall take a stop by yours."

Opal nodded, "Down by the Krispy Kreme. Can't miss it."

Your thumb pressed against the button on the side meant to wind the hour hand. It obeyed, pushing down and revealing a hologram of the Kingsman symbol once more.

"Very nice toy," you commented, pushing the button again to make the symbol retreat.

Merlin hummed, "You haven't found the kill button yet."

You shook your head, still examining the watch. "No, I have. You've got the poison dart here–" you tapped the near-invisible button on the side, "and the tranq dart here," you tapped the button next to it.

They raised their brows at you, impressed. "You've got them too close together, you should separate them a little more," you suggested. "Wouldn't want someone trying to knock an important target out and end up killing them instead."

The agents glanced at each other under Opal's watching gaze and your diverted one as you set the watch back down. Galahad nodded, "Right."

"Opal," you said as you turned to your partner. She hummed and you held your hand out.

"Oh, yes," she mumbled, lifting the lapel of her jacket to reach into a pocket. She handed it to you for you to present to both Kingsman. The box was lengthwise, a thin, golden thing housing a watch made by your agency.

"This is for Galahad—Harry—sent by our boss. She was hoping for us to run into you today. You'll give it?" You said, handing it over to the two.

"Of course," Merlin said, peeking inside of the box with a nod.

The two of you left again to go look at some other booths, or to find food. They sent you off with the directions to the Statesman, waving and wishing you farewell.

As you walked next to Opal, you recounted the booths you'd seen and the ones you hadn't on the way. You motioned toward the restaurant in the distance, smiling at the waft of good food as you got closer to it. You would all have to stop and eat there later today.

Your thoughts came to a halt when you heard someone's voice speaking to you, an unfamiliar voice that had you turning your head at the two figures approaching you.

"Hey there, sugar."

The voice had a Southern twang, smiling and confident as the owner slowed to stand in front of you. "Here we go," Opal mumbled beside you with an amused grin.

He was a handsome man, charming in the right ways. The black hat on his head accompanied his accent and his outfit, a suit that screamed professional cowboy. The mustache above his lip was kept and clean, and he wore it well, along with the glasses on the bridge of his nose.

He looked at you with his dark eyes, his tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip as he smirked. "How lucky am I to see a beauty like you in a place like this?"

There was a woman next to him with short dark brown hair mostly shielded by her own western hat, her skin shades lighter as her own glasses sat at the bridge of her nose. She held her hand out, "Hi, I'm Ginger Ale. This is Whiskey."

"Nice to meet you," you greeted her warmly, taking in the sight of her with a look that could only be described as an evaluation.

You turned to Whiskey, raising an amused brow as you held your hand to shake his. He grabbed it gingerly, bending at the waist to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"How do you do?" he winked, holding onto your hand a little longer before letting you go.

Opal chuckled, "He's cute."

He smiled at her, satisfied with her assessment as he grinned at her like some excited pup.

You tilted your head, nodding slowly. "Yeah… In a flirty toddler kind of way." His demeanor did not shift, your words were no dagger to his ego. "Just want to pinch his cheeks and pat his head," you chuckled, half-reaching like you would actually do it.

You might, his skin looked soft and you want to see his hair underneath his hat.

He winked again, licking his bottom lip, "You can do whatever you want, sugar," he quipped.

You chuckled. Cute.

"You think so?" you asked, tilting your head as you pitched your voice a few octaves to sound as sweet as the nickname he kept calling you.

He shifted so he was standing beside you, careful with his arm in case you didn't want to be touched. Thoughtful. He walked a little with you, leaving Opal and Ginger to stand next to one another and watch him guide you a few feet away.

"I know so," he chuckled. "What's your name?" He said "your" in that way only cowboys can say it: that slurred 'u' that made the 'r' slightly bleed into the last word.

You licked your bottom lip, offering a teasing gaze as you looked at him through your lashes. "Why don't you guess it?" You turned to him, setting your hands on his chest and playing with his tie.

He seemed charmed, entranced by your little gestures and looks. "Probably something pretty like that necklace," he smirked, motioning to your chest as his fingers brushed the golden locket around your neck, resting just between your breasts.

You took it in your hands, stroking the sides. "You like my necklace?"

"It's beautiful," he agreed, staring back at you with a gaze that matched the lovestruck puppy vibe he'd given you earlier. "Just like you," he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles once more.

"You wanna take a look inside?"

"I'd be delighted," he breathed, leaning forward just a little as his face huddled closer to you. You offered a tiny giggle as you undid the clasp, slowly opening the locket as you built the suspense of what could possibly be presented inside.

A bright light flashed quickly into Whiskey's eyes, there one second and gone before a full one could pass. Whiskey's hands rushed to his face as he made a slight groan, and he stumbled backward. You reached forward, pressing a hand to his chest, and watched him fall to the ground.

He made little sounds of discomfort, laying on his back as he brought his hands away and blinked rapidly. He stared in no clear direction, looking around blankly for…something.

Opal chuckled from her spot, Ginger stared with a mix of amusement and concern, and you just looked down at him with a smile as he tried to see.

You approached him, bending at the hips and looking down at him with a smile. You brushed some hair out of your face.

"This is my partner, Opal," you gestured toward her, though you knew he could not see. Your necklace had a device within it that temporarily blinded those on the unfortunate end of it—temporarily.

You pressed a hand to your chest, "My name is Diamond," you reached out and picked up his hat, which had fallen off his head. "Agents of the Queensmaiden."

You brushed the fabric of the hat, setting it over his face before straightening your back. You looked at Ginger Ale as you rejoined Opal's side. "Nice to meet you, Ginger."

She smiled and dipped her hat at you once, waving. "You, too. Feel free to stop by the Statesman."

You nodded, looping your arm with your partner's, paying the blind agent no mind as he struggled to his feet. "We were just headed there!" you smiled, amazed at the turn of events as you pointed it out. "We'll stop by later…when he can see again."

You turned with Opal, looking over your shoulder and grinning gently. "Bye, Whiskey," you giggled before taking your leave.

Whiskey reached out hastily, grabbing a hold of Ginger, just to make sure she was still there. The way she could have rolled her eyes and shook her head as a dopey smile spread over his lips. He motioned in the direction he thought you walked out in, sighing dreamily.

"I need her."

This time, Ginger did roll her eyes and shake her head. She took his outstretched hand and started pulling him back to the booth. "Come on, lover boy."

You did visit the Statesman’s booth—where you met Scotch and Tequila—but did so while Whiskey was away. You wanted to tease him, make him anticipate your arrival for you not to appear and leave him wanting more.

As the night waned, the booths were taken down to make room for the afterparty that had already begun. You were standing at one of the tall, narrow tables with Opal and Tequila, enjoying the music playing in the background as people mingled through the night.

As you laughed at a sarcastic comment made by Tequila, you heard the familiarly smooth voice of his colleague fill the space between you and couldn’t fight your smile.

“I see you’ve met my associate,” he announced himself, sidling up next to you as he leaned on the table. The look on his face held no defeat or upset, he was just as smiling as before as he took in the sight of you, once again entranced.

You chuckled, looking him up and down as you watched each other. “Oh,” you smiled, “so you can see again…”

He laughed heartily at that, amusement seeping into the sound and painting your stomach with butterflies, a light, airy feeling that bounced off the bones of your ribcage. He clasped his hands together, motioning with his head toward your chest, where your golden locket still lay idly by.

“Very nifty gadget, that necklace of yours,” Whiskey smiled, his eyes never leaving yours for long.

You picked it up, tracing your thumb along it like you had done before in a slight tease. “I’d like to think so. I designed it,” you confessed, setting it back down and looking at him, your head tilted up as you straightened your spine with pride. He tilted his head to the side, his grin deepening at your clear genius.

Tequila and Opal shared a look as they took in the interaction, chuckling lightly. “I’ll go ahead and step away now,” he said, doing just that and glancing back at your partner standing by his side.

She nodded her agreement, holding her hand out to the offered crook of his arm. “And I’ll join you.” She walked away with him, shaking her head and smiling as she left to go hang out with her own new plaything—of sorts.

Whiskey’s eyes looked you up and down as he thought over something for a moment before he simply spoke again. “Can I buy you a drink, sweetness?” he offered, holding his own arm out for you as Tequila had done.

You considered him, raising a brow. “I’m still sweet, huh?”

He flashed his teeth with his next grin, dipping his head down in a nod as a gesture with his hat. “Like sugar,” he hummed.

You sighed. “Okay.” Your arm looped through his own, and he smiled triumphantly as he gently tucked you into his side. You gave him a similar gaze to the one you’d given him before he ended up walking around blindly for an hour: your head tilted down as you looked up at him through your lashes, your smile soft, and your eyes teasing—the perfect demonstration of the less eloquently put “fuck me eyes”. “Lead the way, Whiskey.”

He walked you to the bar that had opened earlier on for the convention. The liquor was all top shelf stuff—they wouldn’t dare give low-quality alcohol to these highly respectable representatives of these agencies. He made sure you were sitting comfortably on your stool before he took his seat next to you—a true gentleman.

A bartender came down to the pair of you and smiled, waiting for your orders. “Scotch, neat,” you nodded, adding a “thank you” on the end as you looked away, anywhere but Whiskey while your eyes examined the many options behind the bartender.

“Actually,” Whiskey held his finger up, “I want you to try something.” You looked at him, narrowing your eyes teasingly at what he could be doing now. He turned to the bartender, pulling his hat off and setting it to the side to reveal the neatly kept hair underneath it. “Kentucky Statesman, whiskey,” he nodded.

They nodded back before stepping away to grab the bottle. You looked at him with a smirk as he gazed back at you, self-satisfied before you’d even tried the liquor he’d suggested. The bartender returned with the bottle of the amber liquid, showing off the label to ensure it was the correct one. When Whiskey nodded, they grabbed two glasses from under the bar and set it on the table, pouring the appropriate amount into each one.

You picked up the glass as it was given to you, swishing it around and examining it. You picked up the bottle in your other hand and looked at the label as you brought the lip of the glass to your nose to smell the heady scent of liquor. “Whiskey from Whiskey, huh?” you quipped, still only sampling the scent.

He laughed, sitting back with his glass in his hand, refusing to take a sip until you had. “Give it a taste.”

You smiled suspiciously, bringing the glass to your lips and sniffing it once more before finally tasting it. A sigh escaped you as whiskey lingered on your tongue before burning delightfully down your throat. It was magnificent, like liquid gold.

"Oh my god," you whispered under your breath, closing your eyes and shaking your head.

He smiled proudly, "Good, right?"

You looked at him, composing yourself once more as you straightened your back and too-slowly set your glass back down. You let out a long, calculated breath and just nodded too hard. "It's…It's good, yeah."

He finally drank from his own glass, hiding his chuckle as he beamed. "Go on," he said as he set his glass back down. "Have some more. On the house."

You looked at him, raising a brow. "I thought you were buying me a drink," you pointed out, taking another generous gulp.

He leaned back, motioning widely to the large selection of fine liquor. "Be my guest, get whatever you want."

You inhaled the intoxicating scent of the drink already in hand, your eyelids fluttering for a split second before you just shook your head. "I suppose I'll settle for this," you told him, sipping your drink and setting it down again.

Whiskey grabbed the bottle and refilled your glass. You looked up at him, narrowing your eyes playfully and smirking. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

He shook his head, "Of course not. Just tryna show you the plus side of a Statesman." He set the bottle down and winked at you.

You scoffed, anything but annoyed. "What, think I'll find you?" you swirled your drink around. "We'll hook up over some good liquor?"

His laugh was nearly explosive as he shook his head, seemingly amused in the deepest degree. "Oh, no," he said. "I intend to do more than simply 'hookin' up' with you."

You hummed your response, examining him for far too long and looking away before his dark gaze could override your self-restraint. You crossed your legs, turning your body to face away from him again.

"So," he breathed, "tell me about the Queensmaiden."

You took in a long breath and blew it out to think, reaching out and grabbing his hat discarded on the table. Feeling the fabric under your fingers, you tilted your head. "What do you want to know?"

He shrugged, "Where did it come from?"

"Well," you began, "It was formed some time after Kingsman, 1952, by a man named Bobby Gold." They way you said it, with reverence and sass, Whiskey's lips twitched in a smile. "He's like… in his late eighties now, looking good." You shook your head to get back on track. "He founded the Queensmaiden to be an all-women agency, picked a protégé to take his place and run it after he stepped down."

You turned to him with a boastful smirk, "She's the first Diamond—was the first Diamond, she retired. I knew her, worked with her when I first joined. I got her name, promoted from Quartz."

He nodded, deeply invested in the way you spoke as you played with his hat, made of sturdy, soft fabric. "Fascinatin'," he smiled.

You nodded. "Gold ran a really popular jewelry business of the same name, had a younger sister who ran a tailor shop for women's clothing with her husband. He founded it, she later partnered as co-founder. Now we're a boutique found in most countries…all over the world." You shrugged your shoulder so nonchalantly, like your boast wasn't a real boast. "It's very efficient, dare I say, more efficient than the Kingsman itself."

He snorted, "Don't tell them that."

You leaned forward, too close within his space, "They probably already know." You sidled up closer to him, a clear flirt as you smiled. You raised his hat to him and set it atop your own head.

Whiskey's eyes darkened as he watched you down his nose. "You know…" he said slowly, "there's this rule where I come from… Wear the hat, ride the cowboy."

You licked your bottom lip as your eyes flicked up and down his face. "Oh, I'm well aware." His hand reached out and grazed your arm, daring to bring you closer before you pulled away from him again with a sweet smile. "What about Statesman?"

It took a beat for him to recover before he was shaking his head. "Not as glamorous," he sighed thickly. "Agency in the south full of cowboys and rascals."

You traced the rim of your glass with your finger, picking it up again and bringing it to your lips. "Well, I love me a nice cowboy," you said as you looked at him over your cup.

"Lucky for me, huh?"

"We'll see." You took a sip from your glass.

Suddenly, the music which had been in the background shifted into something else. Country music blared through the speakers and caught the attention of everyone in the area. Some excitedly stood to go join the small group ready who may have recognized the music, but one look at the jukebox provided by one of the agencies here proved that it was, indeed, a southerner who'd started the music.

Tequila stood there with his hat on his head as he smiled, one hand held out and grasping Opal's hand as he spun her into his chest. He glanced up at Whiskey and nodded once before hopping off to the large space cleared to dance.

He was the one to determine what dance was being done as he twirled Opal around into a half amateur-half professional swing dance. People joined in with their partners and allowed themselves to be swept away into more amateur dancing—a dance Whiskey suddenly seemed confident to prove himself in.

"C'mon, I've never missed a swing," he smiled excitedly.

He took your hand and pulled you to the floor before you could protest. He swung you, making you stumble into his chest as you breathed quickly. "I've never swing danced before," you confessed.

He looked you dead in the eye, his own sparkling with excitement and hints of giddiness. "Just follow me," he breathed, his kissable lips forming the words in a way that made it impossible to deny him this.

You sighed, "You better know what you're doing."

He smirked, this one more sly than the last. "Trust me, sugar," he leaned in. "I know what I'm doin'."

You tilted your head, standing up a little more and placing your hands in his. Once you were situated, you smiled and let out a breath of courage. "Well," you whispered, "show me how a real cowboy does it."

Whiskey beamed before he pulled you into the music, quick steps and swinging arm making it impossible to keep up. He twirled you out, he twirled you back in, he switched you to one side and swung you to the other. He spun you under his arm and into his chest. Just when you thought he might slow down, he dipped and held you in his arms with heavy breaths.

He caught the hat as it fell from your head, lingering there and staring at your lips. You stared into the depths of his gaze, catching your breath as they mingled between you in soft puffs of air. He slowly straightened his spine, standing you up and setting the hat atop your head once more, admiring its place there.

You smiled, leaning forward oh-so slowly. His eyes fluttered until they were closed. He looked so calm, so gentle and pretty. You pulled his hat from your head and put it back on him, lingering there a moment before pulling out of his arms and missing his warmth.

He felt you leave and refused to watch you leave him behind. When he opened his eyes again, you were gone. When he turned his head to a mystified Tequila, Opal was gone.

A breath poured from his lips as he couldn't help but smile. He smiled at your charm, at the way you left him starstruck, at the way he'd slipped his number in your pocket in the hopes you called him, finding him again and leaving him with a little more closure as he looked down at his boots and shook his head.

"Fuck me," he cursed, chuckling to himself.

That was the last he saw of you for months, the last you saw of him for months.

You hated how much you thought about him—his puppy-like flirtations, his darkened gaze, his fascination, and the way he moved you like a tornado on the dance floor. You stared at the crumpled up piece of paper with his number scrawled on it all the time, considering, thinking, wanting to call.

But you never did. Never once did you pick up the phone and dial his number. Never once did you talk about him to your colleagues or your partners—not even with Opal, who was totally smitten with her own cowboy.

You missed him, but you were determined not to.

But that didn't mean a crossing of paths would hinder a good reunion.

You smiled at the receptionist at the front desk, who granted you a smile of his own with the tilt of his head. Walking up to the desk, you adjusted the purse on your arm and spoke. “Hello, I’m here for an appointment with Mr. Sullivan. I’m his three o’clock.”

He hummed, “I wasn’t aware Mr. Sullivan was taking appointments today. Name?” he asked, turning to his computer.

“Davis. We made an appointment together over the phone,” you stated in a sickly sweet voice. “Oh, I hope I marked the right day.”

He looked at you and just smiled, shaking his head. “No worries. I don’t see you in the database, but I’ll just give him a quick call to confirm. Alright?”

You nodded, thanking him kindly as you wiped your hands down your light suit. He picked up the phone and dialed the number to his boss’ office, giving you another large grin. When the phone was picked up, he began to explain the situation, and his reaction was full of wide eyes and stutters. “Yes, sir,” he answered, setting the phone back down.

He looked back at you regretfully. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Sullivan will not be taking any appointments today. You are welcome to reschedule, if you’d like.”

“Of course,” you nodded.

“Great.” He reached down under the desk to grab some papers before wincing. “I’ll have to go make some copies. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Not a problem.”

He disappeared behind a door behind the desk and you sighed, turning anyway to go up to the elevator on your right. As you were walking, you noticed a group of men walking down the hall, dressed in black with shades over their eyes. Security guards. You straightened your spine and merely kept walking. You were just at the elevator when you heard shots firing behind you. You groaned loudly and ducked for cover. Their gunfire was loud and thunderous, making couch stuffing and wood splinters fly through the air as you hid behind a desk behind a sofa in the cushy lobby.

You cursed under your breath as you dug through your purse. “No, no, no,” you mumbled as you selected which weapon you would use. You dug out a little silver disc and smiled. “Yes,” you declared as you pulled a little pin out of the side.

You threw it behind you where the guards were still shooting, and ducked down, waiting for a blow that never came as the gunshots continued. “Talc!” you yelled, shaking your head at the newbie in the weapons department and one of her faulty weapons making its way into your arsenal.

You huffed as you looked behind you before you suddenly heard a body drop. You looked over and your eyes widened in shock and surprise. Hiding behind a couch a little farther away from your own was a person who definitely was not on their side. He locked eyes with you, and your expressions became mirrors of the other.

“Diamond?” “Whiskey?”

The simultaneous ringing of your names only escalated the confusion as you stared at one another. “What are you doing here?” he questioned in as low a whisper he could manage to ensure you still heard him, holding a sleek, golden gun tight in his grip as he paid no mind to the small cavalry currently shooting at you.

“I’m on a fucking mission. What are you doing here?” you countered.

He shrugged, “On a fuckin’ mission.”

Shit. “Shit,” you huffed. You thought for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. “What’s your objective?”

Whiskey pressed his gun to his temple, tilting it up as a gesture of his assassination attempt. You let out a breath of relief, pulling a drive with the Queensmaiden symbol on the side from out of your bra and showing it off to him. He sighed as well.

“Cover me?” you asked.

He smiled and nodded, sending you a flirty wink. “You got it, sugar.”

You grinned and counted down for him before ducking out of your cover and rushing to the elevator closest to you. Whiskey stood, grasping his gun as he shot. You pressed the elevator door button and glanced over your shoulder, gripping your gun tight as you waited impatiently for the elevator to open.

When you heard the ding, you had half a second to celebrate as a loud shot came too close to you. You looked down at the elevator button, flashing and sparking as it sat destroyed in the wall.

You pried the door open and shouted Whiskey's name over your shoulder as he retreated back. You got inside, jamming the button closed without missing a beat or waiting for him to get through.

The doors were already closing when he finally slipped through, a bullet missing him by an inch. In the safety of the elevator, you let out a breath and calmed.

There was silence, besides the breaths blowing through the space of the elevator. Whiskey looked at you as you raised your hand, looking at the clock face of your watch.

"You never called," he accused, looking at you with a raised brow and a look on his face that wasn't mad, but not entirely giddy with joy.

You shrugged, still not looking at him. "Been busy."

He chuckled, "With what?"

You missed his voice, that smooth Southern lilt that could lull you to gentle sleep or drive you insane with desire. With the adrenaline pumping through your veins, it was the latter.

"My job," you laughed, pressing a button on your watch as a hologram arose from it, circling the Queensmaiden symbol.

You turned to him, granting him a smile. You were more happy to see him than you should have been. "Did you miss me, lover boy?" you winked. "Tequila says you did."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "You've been talking with Tequila?"

You smirked, nodding. "Of course," you told him, swiping the hologram aside to pull up some files off of some computer. "He's with Opal. They hooked up after the convention."

He sighed longingly, leaning on one leg as he set his gun back in his holster. "And to think," he breathed. "That coulda been us."

You snorted, "Don't get ahead of yourself, cowboy."

You tapped away from the files you'd been scrolling through, pulling up some surveillance footage. There was a hall through the camera, one full of guards with more numbers than the ones downstairs.

"Aww," you muttered. "We have a whole welcome party waiting for us." You turned him with a grin, swiping away the hologram and returning your hand to your side.

He reached behind his back as he smiled. "How sweet."

Whipping his jacket to the side, he grabbed some sort of fancy handle, intricately detailed with gold and silver. You nodded, impressed as you looked at its design.

"Nice," you commented. You opened your jacket, sliding it off your arms and reaching behind you to grab a hold of a handle of your own. It was blue, a shining color that sparkled as Whiskey's eyes scanned over it.

The elevator dinged and you stood beside Whiskey with a smile. The sea of guards on the other side watched you with stern faces, ready for the inevitable fight as they stared down two people who didn't stand a chance.

"Well, howdy, fellas," Whiskey greeted, tipping his hat.

You tilted your head and smiled, "How do you do?" You pressed a small button on one end and the handle began to unfold, expanding into a dagger on one end of a strong rope and a heavy hammer-like weapon on the other.

At the sight of the weapon, the fight began. With drawn guns and angry glares, the guards were quick with their guns as they cornered you in the elevator.

The handle in Whiskey's hand extended into a lasso—a silver whip that he swung out into the small army. It wrapped around the gun of the man in the front of the group, holding on tight as he pulled it taut and sent him falling forward.

You took your rope dart and began swinging it, smacking a bullet out of the way as it hurdled toward you. You threw it and Whiskey watched, amazed, as it wrapped around some man's neck and the dagger embedded itself into his chest. You pulled it, and he spun around to the floor.

The other guards were distracted long enough for the both of you to retreat from the elevator and into the fight.

Ropes flew through the air, daggers pierced bodies, and electricity had them writhing in pain before dropping to the floor. Whiskey's rope wrapped around someone's neck as he pulled him in, punching him hard in the face and sending him to the floor.

He heard a pained yell behind him and turned to see some man falling to the floor with a blue knife in his back. You stepped forward, setting your foot on his back and pulling the dart out.

"That's cool," he said, admiring your weapon of choice.

You smiled, pulling a gun and shooting someone coming toward Whiskey from behind. "Thank you. It's made of sapphires."

"Oo," he smiled. "Duck." You did so, dipping down as he raised his own gun and shot another man aiming his gun at you.

He looked down at you, knelt on one knee in front of him, tightly gripping your rope tight. "What an interestin' position we've found ourselves in."

You scoffed, standing up too close to him. "Keep it in your pants, hotshot."

You turned on your heel, returning to the fight as the few guards who were left brandished their guns. The last of them were easy to take out, and you did. As you swung your rope at the last man standing you noticed a different rope do the same.

You turned your head to Whiskey as he smiled at you. "Looks like we made a connection."

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up." You grabbed your gun and raised it to the man, shooting him instantly and collecting your rope as he dropped to the floor.

You walked over to the body, bending down and wiping the blood from your blade before stepping over him and toward the grand office door down the hall. Whiskey was more than happy to follow you.

You take a card you'd snatched from one of the bodies and swipe it along the reader, the door sliding open to allow you inside. As soon as you crossed the threshold, you heard the sound of a gun click.

You both looked up at Mr. Sullivan pointing his gun at you, dressed in an expensive suit with hands that trembled only slightly with fear for his life. You sighed, looking back at him. "Well, you caught us," you said as you stood beside Whiskey. "Props."

"Question is…" Whiskey added, "who're you gonna shoot?"

Sullivan tilted his head. There was no amusement in his face, but he gave you a look that said "really?". He motioned between the two of you and raised a brow. "You've got some rope. I've got a gun. I can shoot both of you."

Whiskey nodded, agreeing with his logic. "Well, you caught us fair and square," he sighed dramatically. Then he smirked, "Pull the trigger."

Sullivan didn't like how calm you both were. He was holding a gun to your face, and you were telling him to pull the trigger. Why the fuck would you tell him to pull the trigger if he had the upper hand? Were you suicidal?

"There's just one little thing," you spoke, shifting on your side. "You brought a gun to a knife fight."

Sullivan missed the way you passed your rope dart to Whiskey, who took it with too much excitement and, with a few mighty swings, threw it at the unsuspecting boss. The rope wrapped around his neck, and he dropped his gun to grab it and force it away to no avail. The dagger came back around after its loops, and he had no time to process as it lodged in his chest.

Whiskey smirked before he pulled roughly on the rope, spinning the man round, unwinding him like a yo-yo. The dagger yanked from his chest and Whiskey caught it as it flung back. Mr. Sullivan dropped to the floor, choking on his own blood as it spilled from his wound.

You walked past him dismissively, stepping up to his desk and grabbing your drive. Sticking it in the computer, you began typing away as Whiskey admired your weapon.

"I needa get me one of these," he muttered.

"I've got plenty. I'll send you one," you suggested.

He looked up at you, his eyes glittering, "Really?"

"Why not?" You shrugged your shoulders. Leaned over the desk, you watched the loading bar slowly climb toward completion before you were able to withdraw the drive and stuff it in your pocket.

You grabbed a butterscotch from the bowl on his desk, helping yourself as you walked back over to Whiskey. You smiled at him and tilted your head. You hold your hand out to him, making a grabby motion.

"Can I have it back?" you asked.

He tilted his head up, smiling down at you with narrowed eyes. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" you questioned.

"Can I get something in return?"

You sighed and thought for a moment, continuing to smile at him as you returned your hand to your hip. "What do you want?"

He shrugged, pretending to think. "How about a pretty please?" he smirked, his eyes dark and inviting, his voice quiet and deep.

"You want me to say please?" you asked, standing too close as your eyes flickered to his lips for half a second.

Again, he shrugged, but his smile became more wicked. "A kiss on the cheek might suffice."

You chuckled deeply, standing on your toes as you leaned forward. You got closer, closer, and closer still until your breaths mingled. You shifted to his cheek, turning your head just enough so your lips nearly brushed his ear as you whispered to him. "You're going to have to try harder than that."

You took the rope from his grip and backed away from him, watching him watch you with lidded eyes. You backed toward a private elevator in the office, pressing a button on the wall as the doors opened. You looked toward the door you came in and smiled. "You've got company."

You stepped back into the elevator and the doors closed, shielding you from him as you waved.

Whiskey stood in the office, looking toward the door that was currently being beaten against by his visitors. Smiling and shaking his head, he laughed heartily. "Clever."

You stepped out onto the roof, taking the drive from your pocket and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your gun and shot at it once, destroying it entirely as you made your way to the jet waiting for you. You boarded it, climbing into the pilot's seat as you started it up and left.

As you flew away from the building, you glanced back at it and smiled when you saw a figure climbing up the side of the building to the roof. He looked over his shoulder at you, and you could make out the distinct sight of him waving his arm at you. Not to grab your attention, but to say hello.

You saluted him before departing for a second time.

Your next encounter with him was not so far in the future. In fact, it was later on that night.

You walked into the large house you were staying in after a long day out. Between your mission, your flights, and everything in between, you were about ready to pour yourself a drink and go to sleep early.

The house was owned by the Queensmaiden, a mission house for meetings or get-togethers or just a place for agents to crash after long days on missions. Since your trip today was done alone, your partner back at home serving as your tech that day, you were in this big empty home alone. You didn't mind much, it was a lot of space, you could turn on the stereo as loud as you want, there was plenty of expensive booze. You were all set for the night.

As you walked through the loud house, which was filled with the classic voice of Frank Sinatra, you made your way to the open bar. As you poured yourself a drink, you glanced at the label with a smile. Statesman whiskey.

"So you did like it."

You didn't turn around, but you smiled at the smooth tone of your cowboy behind you. You grabbed a second glass and poured him his own. You set the bottle down, picked up both cups, and walked over to him with a smile.

"It's alright."

You stopped in front of him, making a bad habit of standing too close. Passing the glass over, you looked up at him through your lashes. He wasn't wearing his hat, giving you a view of his tousled hair. Likewise, he was stripped down to a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, his shirt still tucked in his pants fastened with his belt. His tie was gone, and the top buttons of the shirt were undone. He saluted his glass to you, and you gladly clinked them together in a quiet cheer before taking a sip, your eyes never parting from his.

"You know," he sighed. "This disappearing act of yours is starting to get a little old, Diamond."

You shrugged a shoulder, "I can spice it up if you want."

He simply shook his head, "I think I'd rather pick a different act. It would put us in much different positions."

"Oh?" You smiled, reluctantly turning on your heel and stepping away from him. "What positions did you have in mind?"

You lounged on the couch, kicking off your shoes. You looked back at him with one hand on your glass and the other under your chin as you rested your head on the back of the couch.

He sighed once again, his whole body moving with him as he looked at you in that way that reminded you of a lovesick pup. He set his hands on his hips, leaning on the side as he contemplated.

"You never called."

His words from earlier pricked your heart in a special kind of way this time. You sighed and just shook your head, "No, I didn't."

The song playing through the speakers in the house faded out to welcome another. Sinatra's "I'm a Fool to Want You" was sharp in your mind.

You set your glass down and looked up at Whiskey again. You reached your hand out to him, wiggling your fingers in the hope that he'll hold your hand.

He did, and you smiled.

"I did miss you," you confessed.

That offered him some solace. "Honest?"

"Honest." He sighed, stepping closer. You sat up, settling on your knees as he still towered over you. He looked at you for a long time before suddenly smiling. He bent down, wrapping his arms around your body and surprising you as he hoisted you up, spinning you over the couch and setting you on your feet. You held onto him, laughing as he pulled you close to his chest. He slid his hand into your own, entwining your fingers as his other hand rested on the small of your back.

"Dance with me?" he asked.

You tilted your head, "Do I have a choice?"

He laughed and just shook his head. "No."

You laughed. He took a side step, swaying you in time with the gentle rock of the music. It was slow and steady, filled with too much emotion than should have been allowed for a couple who had only met once a few months prior. You rested your head on his chest, your eyes closed as you blew out a long breath.

His voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke, low and quiet. "How lucky am I to see a beauty like you in a place like this?" he smiled.

You chuckled, recalling those words from when you first met. "Am I still allowed to do whatever I want?" you asked, looking up at him.

He spun you out, twirling you before spinning you back in, your back pressing against his chest. He leaned down to your ear. "Never revoked the privilege."

You twisted your neck to see him, smiling at his face so close to yours. You leaned forward, your lips ghosting over his own as you considered it. For a moment, you considered it.

You swerved to hover your lips near his ear, "Catch me."

You stepped away from him, walking backwards as your eyes stayed glued to his. You watched him with the same dark, teasing eyes as you had used before. The naughty look on your face, the proximity at which you once stood, the tingling of your lips never grazing his but teasing him with the possibility of such a sacred union…the thought of never sealing that fate with you and leaving once again for another wild goose chase where he never knew if he would see you again due to the dangers of the lives you both lived. They were possibilities that made his heart ache in ways it shouldn't have.

He just shook his head, deciding then and there that he wouldn't let you have another swift get away, wouldn't let you slip through his fingers with nothing to remember you by but the ghost breaths against the shell of his ear where you exhaled your secrets. "Not this time."

He took a few long strides toward you, taking you in his arms and crashing his lips down upon yours. You gasped into his mouth, melting instantly into him as your legs turned to jelly. He held you close to him, supporting your neck with one large hand as he consumed you in a passionate embrace.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down and swaying gently as you finally kissed the cowboy you'd been craving for months. He bent down, wrapping his arms under you and lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. He held you up with strong arms, walking you back until he was pushing you up against a wall.

When he pulled from the kiss, heavy, hot breaths were exchanged between the two of you. His hands roamed your body, drinking you in desperately. His mouth pressed against your neck, his tongue darting out to lick along your thumping pulse. You moaned, feeling the heat between your legs igniting with a fire.

His name fell from your lips as he nibbled on your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you pulled on his messy strands.

He rolled his hips into yours, pulling a shaky breath out of you. Your leg tightened around him, bringing him closer as you mirrored his own movement from before, drawing out your pleasure with grinding hips and breathless sighs. He groaned as one of his hands gripped your waist to stop you.

Whiskey unwrapped your legs from him as he set you back down on your feet. When he sank to his knees, it was with a maddening amount of eye contact that he didn’t dare break. His hands smoothed along your sides, rounding to the front to undo the clasp of your slacks. He moved torturously slow as he pulled the slacks down your legs, revealing more and more skin to him as he went along. Your eyes fluttered when you felt his lips on your thigh.

You stepped out of the pant legs when they finally pooled around your ankle. Whiskey leaned forward to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste the skin before taking it between his teeth in a gentle nibble. You stifled a moan at the feeling, watching his dark eyes drink you in.

When he finally fingered the waistband of your panties, he pulled them down in one swift tug to reveal yourself to him. He licked his lips and you bit down on your own. “Look at that,” he praised. “So pretty.” He looked up at you with a cocky smirk, holding the back of your leg up and setting it atop his shoulder.

He leaned forward and your lips parted so delicately when his tongue darted out to lick you. Your breath hitched, halting in your throat as his hot tongue delved between your folds. Like a fire, the warmth spread through your body as you melted into him. Your hips jerked, seeking his mouth.

His lips wrapped around your pussy, tasting you with an intoxicated moan. When he sucked on your clit, your breath trembled and a whimper managed to weave its way through your vocal chords. His talented tongue glided through your folds before retreating as he pulled back from you to look at your pretty face.

You looked down, whining lightly at him as he stared at you with eyes that glittered with praise. His hand trickled up your side before dipping between your thighs and into your warmth. “You taste sweet as sugar, sugar.”

You had to fight through your eye roll as you enjoyed the sweet stretch of his thick fingers inside of you. “You have very skilled hands,” you nearly stuttered. Your eyes fluttered as he curled the length of his fingers.

“Why, thank you, sweetheart,” he dipped his head as though he was still wearing his hat. He pushed his fingers in deeper, adding a third as he coaxed you toward a sweeter release. He was a lot gentler than you expected, treating you like a fragile lover. It warmed your heart, so used to the less patient lovers of one-night stands long since.

The sharp dig of dull nails into the flesh of your thigh contrasted with the prior feathery fingertips on your sides. You were breathless and needy, aching for him all over. With those same fingers still buried deep inside of you, he leaned forward and sucked on your throbbing clit.

The shocks of pleasure creeping up on you sparked along your skin—your fingertips, the very ends of prickly flesh. Your fingers gripped and tangled in his hair. Your hips stuttered forward, searching for his mouth in a desperate attempt to push yourself over the edge.

But he was doing it first, crooking his fingers in the perfect way here and digging the tip of his tongue into that sensitive bundle of nerves there as your pitch climbed higher and higher with the anticipation of a climbing buildup. The rubber band inside your belly snapped and your mouth dropped. What were supposed to be rises of whiny moans were just a symphony of shuddering breaths, arrhythmic and impassioned.

He was right there to ease you through the shocks, encouraging you with his tongue back down to the tingles that covered the expanse of exposed skin.

When he pulled away, his lips were still occupied with your body, pressing hungry kisses to your thighs and lower belly with a fervor that made you tug harder on his curling locks of hair.

He looked up at you with kiss-swollen lips, smiling like an idiot in love—no, not love. This was just lust. That's all. That was it. It didn't matter if that spark in your chest only pumped through your veins when he looked at you like that.

You smiled at him, breathless. "Take me to bed."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

He tightened his grip around your waist before he stood, tossing you over his shoulder and holding you with one arm. You yelped, dissolving into giggles as he carried you through the house and through the winding halls toward the bedroom.

On the way, you smiled as you passed by his hat sitting on a table along the walls. Reaching you, you had just barely grabbed it with your fingertips as you held it to your head.

He pushed the door open to reveal the room: a king-sized bed with golden sheets, a mini chandelier reflecting diamonds all over the expensive room, paintings and frames and shelves probably hiding more tools and gadgets than there are choices of liquor behind the bar in the main room.

He kicked the door closed behind him, admiring the room with a hum and a nod of his head before plopping you down onto the bed. You fell with a bounce, chuckling again as you held onto his hat. He smiled, watching you put it on your head and look at him with eyes that expressed far too much to be an innocent one-night stand.

Part of Whiskey hoped it was more than an innocent one-night stand.

So did you.

But if it was, he would rock your world. He stared down at you with darkened eyes, undoing his shirt and tossing it somewhere in the room. The rest of his clothes followed after until he was in nothing but his boxers. Then he did the same to you, except he didn't stop until you were bare before him, left in nothing but your expensive necklace and earrings to admire the way you still looked like the perfect reflection of the woman of his dreams. He left the hat. You looked perfect in it.

"Not fair," you complained with a grin. "I'm stripped bare, and you're still dressed."

You leaned up on your elbows, sitting up until you were situated on your knees as you leaned forward. You smiled up at him, hooking your finger in the band of his boxers to pull him forward. "Your turn."

He set his hand on your cheeks and nearly melted at the way you leaned into his warm palm, your eyes fluttering shut as a gentle breath blew through you. He shifted his hand so he pinched your chin, lifting your face to see better. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, sweetness."

"Oh, yeah?" you chuckled. "Prove it to me."

He leaned forward, bending down to your face and connecting your lips again. He licked into your mouth, tasting the remnants of whiskey on your tongue. You moaned, melting against him. You pulled away, your hand still hooked around his waistband. You tugged them down, ridding him of the meaningless article of clothing to reveal him to you.

Fuck, he was beautiful. Flushed tipped, thick, and throbbing. As you reached out and stroked your fist over his cock, he twitched in your hand and groaned. You bit your lip, leaning forward and giggling when his hat on your head bumped into his stomach.

He chuckled at you, tilting it up so he could see your face and you could move. You smiled at him before going back to his leaking slit. You leaned forward and licked him, flattening your tongue along his head to taste him. You moaned again, leaning forward to take a longer lick along the length of him. He breathed a curse under his breath, watching you lick him up as you worked your tongue along him.

His hand came to rest on the back of your neck, easing you forward without actually moving you. Your lips wrapped around him, slick and warm as you took him in your mouth. His head tilted back before he looked down again to see you, not wanting to miss a second of it.

"Fuck," he breathed, hips twitching. You smiled around him, working him deeper in your throat with the intent of taking the whole of him. "Fuck, you're amazing. How did I get so lucky?"

You whimpered, laving your tongue along the underside of his cock where the vein was throbbing. "You like that?" he asked. "You like when I tell you how fuckin' perfect you are?"

You nodded as best you could, wrapping a hand on the back of his thigh to pull him in some more. "You're so goddamn perfect," he promised. "Makin' me feel special like this. D'you feel special?"

You just moaned your response, suckling around him and pulling a rough moan from him. After a moment, he pulled you away, setting his hands on either side of your neck as he caught his breath. He looked down at you, smiling and pulling you forward to kiss you again. The way he kissed you this time was so much different than before, so much softer, slower, with more meaning behind it than there ever should have been. Fuck, you were drunk on it, craving his lips more and more with an impossible desperation, even while he was still kissing you.

He eased forward, moving you until you were laying on your back. His lips slipped on and off of yours, down to your neck as he buried his face there and suckled on the skin.

He settled himself between your legs, grinding down on you as you moaned into each other's mouths. You grasped his bicep, squeezing it tight as you stopped him. "Wait," you breathed.

He stopped immediately, looking down at you with a face etched in concern. "What? What's wrong?"

You smiled, "Wear the hat, ride the cowboy." Your hands flattened on his chest and you pushed him back with a huff, flipping him around so he lay on his back as you straddled him.

He smiled at you, setting his hands on your hips. "You scared me for a second there," he said, his thumbs stroking circles along your skin.

You hovered over him with shaky thighs. "Scared you weren't gonna get your cock wet tonight?" you chuckled.

He just shook his head, "Scared I hurt you."

Your breaths filled the rooms as your body slowed to a stop, staring at him. Your heart leapt and you allowed yourself, just for a moment, to succumb to its calling to him.

"You could never hurt me, Whiskey," you promised.

You only allowed him a moment to let it sink in before you were grabbing his cock in your warm palm, stroking him a couple times before guiding him to your soaked pussy. Sinking down on him, both your eyes shut as your breaths puffed into the air.

"Fuck," you moaned. You braced yourself on his shoulders, helping them guide you as you slowly rolled your hips atop his. His hands gripped your waist, blunt nails digging into skin and creating little crescent dents.

The sensations were amazing. His cock stroked along your velvet walls and sparked a desperate pleasure within you that had you forgetting about the little tingles of pain at adjusting to his length. You brought him deeper, your bodies connected indefinitely as you began your slow movements.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the blossom of pleasure deep within you. You leaned back, placing a hand on the hat to keep it there as you rolled your hips, faster and faster, chasing the euphoria you craved.

"Look at you," he groaned. "Fuckin' ridin' me like a true cowgirl."

"Lucky for you, huh?" you smirked, breaking off into a whimper as the blunt head of his cock brushed against a sweet spot inside you.

He nodded, "Lucky for me."

You rode him, and you rode him hard, ignoring the ache in your hips and your legs from the continuous motion, ignoring the breathlessness shocking your throat at all the air you were taking in, ignoring the pounding in your chest at the way he stared at you: lips kiss-swollen, eyes sparkling, hands gripping. It was so much, too much, you craved this man more than you'd ever craved anything before in your life.

"Whiskey," you moaned, stifled moans tearing from your throat as his name spilled from your lips. "Fuck, Whiskey, you feel so good."

He hummed. "Take what you need from me, sugar. Take what you want." You leaned forward, holding yourself up with your hands on his shoulders. You were desperate, fucking yourself on him like it was your last time. When his thumb brushed your clit, a guttural moan ripped at your throat and your hips jerked. "That's it, sweetness. That's it."

He was just as breathless as you, guiding your hips with one hand and circling your clit with the other. "Shit," you sighed. "More. Fuck, Whiskey, I'm almost there."

"C'mon, sugar," he urged you. "Cum for me, Diamond."

You didn't care to hold back, you couldn't. You came with a shout, dropping forward onto him and burying your face in his neck. You moaned into his neck, pitchy and breathless as you came apart on top of him. Your hand tangled in his hair, he held tightly to your hips.

Your cunt clenched around him, squeezing and spasming and bringing him to the edge as his release tumbled after yours. One of his hands flew to your hair, holding you there as his fingers carded through.

Your hips canted a couple more times, milking the last ounces of pleasure you could get before you fell against his chest. He held you as you both slowly floated down from your highs, falling into the other's embrace as you came to.

The stillness that followed was like something out of a dream. The air was heavy with the smell of sex, but light with the breaths blowing from the both of you. Every inch of your body tingled, your fingertips felt like pop rocks, your skin prickled with a mix of warm and cold. Whiskey's heartbeat resounded through you, grounding you as you traced your fingers over his chest.

You could feel his hand stroking through your hair, rubbing gently into the back of your neck and making you feel like putty. You could stay like this forever, resting atop him and feeling the life he breathed into you from his chest.

"Jack."

You took in a small breath, leaning up and shifting yourself so he slipped out of you. You sighed a little before looking up at him with a lovesick grin. "Hmm?"

He looked at you, smiling right back as he chuckled lightly. "My real name is Jack."

You smiled and shook your head, burying your face in his chest as you chuckled. "Jack Daniels?" you joked, recalling the name brand Whiskey.

The way he chuckled made you look up at him. "Yes, actually."

You looked at him, smiling so wide your face hurt. "Seriously? Your name is Jack Daniels?"

He nodded, "Yep."

You shook your head, laying your head back on his chest and reaching clumsily over to grab his hat, which had fallen off your head. You set it over your face, shielding you from the light shining from the chandelier.

You sighed slowly, tracing patterns into his skin. You whispered your own name to him, glancing up at him and then back out to the little lion figurine on the small stand against the wall on the other side of the room. It was bronze, standing proudly with one paw perched up and his mouth dropped in a mighty roar.

Whiskey smiled, stroking his hand down your back and then back up to your hair. "You've got a beautiful name, sugar."

You smiled slowly. "Sweet as sugar?"

He nodded, "Sweeter."

You leaned up, your face inches apart. "You're gonna get a cavity if you have any more of me," you kissed his lips, long and slow and wanting more.

"The sacrifices we make…" he replied, chuckling deep in his chest as he kissed you again.