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nmyphomania · 8 months

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╰┈➤ ❝ [Kinktober Day 12: Exhibitionism]

Summary: He appoints his closest advisors to watch him raw dog you the night of your wedding.

Warning(s): F! Reader, exhibitionism, finger sucking, snowballing?, spit as lube, oral sex (f. receiving), full nelson, doggystyle, mouth spitting, rough sex, sloppy kissing, vaginal fingering, choking, squirting, breeding but only a lil bit, cervix kissing, public bedding ceremony, handjob (f. receiving), possessive Zuko, not proofread

WC: 2.6k+

•𑁍•

Your mouths were on each other in an instant, leaving no room to waste time in front of the four political advisors in the room with the both of you. Tongues flicked out, circling the bland taste of saliva that glossed over the surfaces of pink. It was so uncomfortably hot in the room, it was hard to differentiate whether it was from you and Zuko getting busy, or if it was the intense stares from the four accompanying people inside the chamber.

Zuko licked a deep stripe up the inside of your mouth, grabbing the back of your neck to hold you still into his demanding kiss. Pressing a firm thumb against the crook of your neck, urging your head to the side, leaving hot, wet trails smacking onto the surface of porcelain skin. The way he cradled you in his arms was so dreamy it enhanced the scent of subtle arousal dancing in the air of the room.

A sudden turn in events of Zuko now bending you over the side of the mattress of the bed, growing ravenous by all passing moments of this small gathering. Leaning to hover over your form lying on the mattress below, he stared into one of the male advisors’ eyes whilst swiftly undoing the careless knot in your robes. Your clothes were immediately snatched bare from your helpless body, leaving you to yelp in surprise at the state you were now left in, now a sight for four pairs of wildly unfamiliar eyes.

“You all want to see me fuck her don’t you?”

His suggestive voice alas cut the deathly silent interior of the room, the man in particular shifted around in his breeches, swallowing thickly at his lord’s unprecedented words. Yanking at the back of the latches that fastened your bra together, it slapped back down, leaving a fleeting sting to burn on the surface of your back. He scoffed, pushing you forward with his clothed hips to spur you on the bed completely.

Of course you still wore on your undergarments, the intimate clothing clinging to your frame so endearingly, no doubt in Zuko’s mind that the other four were growing hot in their pants over you. Yeah he could be jealous and petty all he pleased, but these perverts loved tradition and were as passionate about it as anything else. You know they would never, ever, admit how hungry they were for the scene before them to unfold further, fearing their firelord’s judgemental remarks about their dignity. It’s obvious as the sun in the sky on a clear day, but he guessed he could be a little less, mean. Making work of his own clothes by sliding off his own deep red robes off of his broad shoulders, he seems over this whole situation already.

You situated the lower half of your body up in the air for him, assuming the position in front of him on the bed as he undressed. Now he was only covered up by his own pair of pants that contained his painfully hard sex, straining just behind his fly. Taking his index finger, he dragged down your underwear so damningly slow it irked you. Your clit was then sandwiched between his two rugged fingers, stroking steadily in up and down patterns. Zuko took in how very apparent you were when you would grow more and more wet for him, relishing everything that came out of your body by messily massaging your damp pussy then giving it a teasing slap.

“Already? I barely even touched you.”

Those words sent shivers of embarrassment cascading down the longevity of your back. A few breathy sighs from you being rubbed down on your core in between your thighs, leaving you to run your tongue over you lips before going to bite down on the bottom one. He placed his free hand to thumb over your other entrance as he eased his hand around to prep you for his sudden intrusion. It pressed so deliciously on the resistant ring of muscles, it sent every firm press straight down to take effect below.

Small droplets strayed away from your arousal, sounds of wet suctioning from humping along the roughness of his palm urged your eyes backward, flattening out his hand nearly drove you to insanity. Your ears were filled with cotton, even delirium whining out for him to keep going or right there. Body nearly lurching from the intensity of his palm thrusting on it repeatedly, more so perfectly wiping the top of your cunt where the most nerves seemed to reside.

Zuko gave no warning, suddenly grabbing your right shoulder, pressing you down on his experienced pointer fingers without taking any mind to your tightness. Flinging your head up only to meet the heated stares from the four men that advised your husband’s actions, a distressed noise of surprise was eased out in their direction. His fingers curled inside somehow angling accurately on the oozing spot that was the center of your pleasure. Feeling the blunt tips of his finger rutting into you with the help of his left hand levering you back into them by keeping an unwavering hold on the curve in the middle of your shoulder and neck.

Bucking back to counter the precise movements of his fingers made you squirt all over the digits and the sheets, heat flooded over the expanse of your face for growing so needy. Especially in front of the guests present in you two’s shared chamber. Swirls, turns, and spins danced in the base of your convulsing stomach, pulling yourself impossibly tighter to embrace his knuckles within the confines of your greedy pussy. Words fell amidst the chain of incoherent moans that just wouldn’t stay deep inside your chest, not even properly able to register them in the heat of the moment.

“Zuko?” You gasped out, hand flying to find his hand, in an attempt to grab onto something, or some part of his body that could be found within any means of reach. Shoving in another two digits drawed out a foul keen rooted from the depths of your diaphragm. Being so full led you to fall down back forward, pressing your face flush against the crimson sheets to drool out whatever your brain could come up with. Toes curling, body jerking away and struggling from overstimulation, pleas in every type of sound possible. Goodness you were a mess underneath him, you couldn’t even think to compose yourself to have some decorum, but Zuko made it so damn hard. On the crumbling edge of a worthy finish, your eyes snapped open, wild with desperation to find his hand and push him in deeper.

Zuko wasn’t having it, he didn’t like being rushed no matter how much you begged for something deeper or faster; he went at his own set pace. Everything he did had a reason even if he didn’t directly tell you, that’s law for everyone involved with him. Including you. He took your wrist and pinned it down on your back as a warning for moving too fast, a hum of disapproval was met with your hurried actions.

“Stay. There. Don’t get impatient.”

That low warning sent you over the edge, with him burying his digits down to the knuckle to make your finish bubble up and out of her more than stretched out opening. He smoothed his fingers out of you with a small suction noise from her walls bordering him inside securely, moving the four to grip the interior heat of her mouth. You sucked vigorously, lapping and savoring and cleaning every drop of yourself off of his digits longingly.

Easing himself down onto his knees to meet the sight of your gaping pussy from the earlier entry, he began to make out loudly, smacking his lips from kissing your worked lips, and fixating on sucking all of your cum from out of you. You moaned around his fingers, taking in the sweet wet sensation of his tongue hooking and retreating continuously between your folds. He welcomed it to drip from the capacity of his mouth, sliding down from either side of his strong jaw.

Groaning in a mix of adoration and satisfaction from the taste and sopping wet mess on his face, he’d drain everything from inside of you that spewed unashamedly, holding the fluid in his mouth for a moment. Before you could react to his finger being freed from your mouth, a slap landed on the bottom of your ass, startling the men across the room from the filthy spell the two of you put them under. Their hearts beat so hard they all thought it’d come right out of their chests, it was so heated in the room, the smell of sex already settling in their nose before even getting to the real part of all of this.

His eyes caught sight of your bra that was latched onto your body around your upper half after all this time, saliva-slicken hand going to lightly tug the fabric, prompting you to take the clothing item off. A pair of pretty, pedicured hands reached to teasingly undo the latches in a way that’ll test Zuko’s patience, a way to get back at him for not allowing her to be needy herself. They fondled with the back hooks, slowly coming undone for his prying eyes to watch over. The man decided to waste no time with you, ridding himself of his own pants to work towards a mutually pleasing moment.

The slightly taut clothes were removed from his body to fully reveal himself confidently to everyone in the room, and once all of the buckles on your bra were undid, he never snatched something off you faster in his life. In fact, he grabbed you by your neck to force you off of the bed on all fours and positioned his pulsating length just outside your gasping orifice.

Sucking in his cheeks to gather up all of her juices he drank in from her previously, Zuko leaned backwards to intricately spit out the substance over the surface of his cock to easily slip inside of you. Breeching past your loose and slicken up hole, he let a loud groan utter past his lips and into the thickened air of the chamber’s atmosphere. Both of your heaving breaths came together in sync as the both of your bodies met each other at an accelerating pace, every thrust punched out shared pants and curses of all sorts. Sweat trickled across the vastness of each other’s skin, cores burning with an urgency that was unmatched and burned a heat the couple could ever understand.

Going to rest over on his forearm on one side of her body below resting all of his weight in that one arm, he made quick use of the opposing hand to strain around her neck to pull her into a discordant kiss. His mouth nearly went dry at her clenching walls cornering him in inside, Zuko could barely conjure up a petty wad of saliva to share back into her mouth just before parting away from the kiss

Holding her up by keeping a hold on the length of her neck, he shifted impatiently to shove the crest of his dick in to hit the very middle of her stomach cruelly. Your wails wantonly hurt to cry out due to the pressure of his hands on your neck, it was so much all at once you could sob. Not much air came in through your windpipe, maybe once you’d get a good intake of air to support your noises of pure rapture. It never appeared to phase him, the raunchy roll of his hips caused one of the men on the adjacent side of the room to pass out from locking his knees in place. That didn’t seem to phase him either.

Nothing would ever take his gaze away from your red laden eyes, glittering up at him with a quiet beg for some type of mercy on your body. Those lips were parted screaming all of her thoughts, obscenities, his name. Like a chant, he didn’t want to ever stop pleasing you, making you cry, it was his motivation to continue to be your center of ecstasy. The vibrations of her strangled whines went nowhere but straight to his dick, making him twitch violently in the midst of your body he knew best. Better than the back of his hand he knew how to read you, how to ruin you just right for the entertainment of his advisors.

“You’re….you’re gorgeous. You’re all mine- I-.”

He could hardly utter the praise beyond a hoarse whisper, letting your neck loose from his crazed grip. Pulling out immediately made you exhale wholly, releasing the air that rested within your throat, you took advantage of the fact that you now could take a simple breather until he decided what else to do to you.

You were gently pulled up by your elbow, leading you to the front of the bed, enhancing the firelord’s men's view over the vulgar scene unraveling in front of them. She was pulled into his lap, face barely flushed with a red present all over her body, sweat drenched and all of her naked glory. The both of them adjusted into a rather dissolute position, his length now resting once more inside of her cunt, Zuko locked her legs back with the strength of his arms all the way until they were straddling her own upper half. Her entirety was on display to the four men, the two’s connection was undeniable and now formally presented to them.

You could barely take the situation, all of your active thoughts were drained out of you the second you started to squirt uncontrollably. The world spun dizzyingly in your head as Zuko fucked you from underneath, to spread your oozing walls all over him. A pair of soft lips you were so familiar with crashed on the side of your face and trailed down to the crook of your neck, bringing you down from the temporary high created from feeling the crest of what physical euphoria felt like.

He panted loudly at the knots pulling together tighter any time he’d throw his hips up to jolt back into her, stomach clenching hard to keep up his consistent rhythm. That jet black hair of his clung to his forehead, now damp and even mused from the work he put his body through that night.

“Mine, mine, all mine. I promised to fuck her didn’t I?” A rhetorical question restated to himself while his head craned back to display the compelling reddened flesh of his neck. Rough, and gritty his voice happened to be reduced down to, he virtually gave a half-assed whine from bottoming out in his movements just moments leading up to his overloading finish.

Losing yourself to the scent of sex and the renewed humidity of the room, you didn’t realize you and him came at the same time, him doing it so deep, coating the surroundings of his steadily softening shaft, pushing in a few more times before lowering your aching legs down to rest. They felt like complete jelly, nothing could possibly get you to stand up from the events of your honeymoon night.

One of the advisors tried to swallow down a large lump created in his throat, going to speak up in the moment of silence. He bowed for the rest of the group of men, showing his still foregoing respect towards the Firelord and wife, the now declared Firelady.

“The marriage process is now complete, congratulations to the newly wedded royal couple.”

•𑁍•

Tags:

#kinktober 2023 #zuko x reader #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #fanfic #fire lord zuko #zuko smut #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #atla #[𝐧𝐦𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚®]#atla fanfic #not proofread

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milky-aeons · 3 months

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'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.

warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k

ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.

Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"

: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.

: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.

: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;

"You — are absolutely breath-taking."

: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.

"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."

: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.

𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .

"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"

Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.

"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.

And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.

ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎

: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.

: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!

: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.

: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.

"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."

: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.

: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.

"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."

: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .

"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.

Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.

But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;

"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"

Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.

"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.

He grunted. "Same... thing."

ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.

: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!

Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?

: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.

: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.

: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .

"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.

"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"

"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.

And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.

"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."

Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."

ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.

: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.

: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.

: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;

"There you are, my wife."

: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.

: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.

: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .

"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."

"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."

Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.

He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.

"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."

ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘

: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.

: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.

"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.

: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;

"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."

: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.

: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

"Fyodor?"

"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.

"Why did you ask to marry me?"

Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.

Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."

✎ . . . requested by the lovely @cocodrilofeliz!

WRITING REQUESTS

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pathologicalreid · 3 months

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in sickness and in health | S.R.

Minutes before your wedding is supposed to start, Spencer gets cold feet, and you have to find out why.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (a smidge angsty) content warnings: alzheimers, weddings, children, babies, sad!spencer, reader wears a dress and makeup, cursing word count: 1.8k a/n: so this became sadder than I had initially intended. also i decided to try something new and write in a different POV and i don't know if i like it. this is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' new beginnings challenge, because nothing says new beginning quite like getting married! thank you for having this challenge!

If it were up to you and Spencer, your wedding would’ve taken place at a courthouse with no fuss, just rings and a certificate. Especially after he shot down your idea of a 24-hour wedding chapel in Las Vegas.

In your defense, you pitched it to him as an intimate wedding in his hometown, but he didn’t take the bait.

But when the team found out that the two of you were planning what they deemed unsuitable, they all volunteered to help throw together a ceremony and reception. Everyone was under the duress of Penelope at the time, but they all volunteered.

She could be very formidable when she wanted to.

Your now maid of honor’s eyes were shimmering as she carefully adjusted some of the last few strands of hair upon your head, you had managed to talk her out of a tiara, but to Penelope Garcia, a veil was non-negotiable. “You look gorgeous,” she says, “the perfect bride.”

Laughing uncomfortably, you turn to look at yourself in the full-length mirror and take a deep breath, “Thank you, Pen.”

“I know I may have slightly nudged you in the direction of a bigger wedding-“

“More like punted,” you interrupt, an affectionate smile on your face.

Rolling her eyes, she leaned over to grab her buzzing phone on the velvet chair in your ready room. “Whatever, I just think that after everything you and Spencer have made it out of, you deserve a celebration that reflected that,” she speaks passionately, as she always does when discussing people in love.

Turning around to look back at the mirror, the tulle of your veil cascading over your shoulders as you grew giddy. Your dress was a whimsical, white chiffon that fell to the floor and moved with you as you walked. Small straps of fabric were delicately draped over your arms for an off-the-shoulder effect, you had never felt more glamorous. Although, if there was a day for glamor, your wedding day would certainly qualify.

You snap your head around to see Penelope furiously typing on her phone, “Uh oh,” she whispers, looking at the screen.

Humming, you step off of the pedestal and over to her, careful not to trip on your dress, “What’s wrong?” You murmur, trying to see what was distressing her. Dread built in your stomach; the team couldn’t be getting called away? Two of its members were about to get married. This is why you should’ve just gone to the courthouse; you never should’ve let Garcia talk you into this.

Jolting you out of your panic induced stupor, she answers, “Something’s up with Reid.”

Your heart clenches, “Reid? My Reid?” You whisper, “Is he okay?”

The two of you jump when someone bangs on the door, and she moves to open it, just a crack at first – to see who it is – and then all the way open to reveal Luke on the other side. Naturally, the members of the BAU made up your wedding party, and Luke as the best man was the easy choice.

He was mostly dressed, save for the bowtie that remained undone around his neck, “I need to steal Y/N.” His shoulders were rising and falling quickly like he had run across the building.

“She’s getting ready for the wedding. Her wedding,” Penelope answers, gesturing back to you. “Besides, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

Really, you were mostly ready, you just needed to put your shoes on and line up. “There won’t be a wedding if we can’t get the groom out there,” Luke replies.

You warily approach the doorway, peeking around the door, “What’s wrong?”

“He just needs you,” Luke explains, gesturing toward you with his hands.

Nodding determinedly, you step out the door and run over to the other side of the building to where the groom’s ready room is, pulling the fabric of your dress up so that you don’t trip. Along the way, you pass a few guests, but you don’t stop.

It wasn’t news to most of them that you were a grounding force for Spencer, the two of you had been put through, as Luke put it, the wringer together and still managed to come out the other side. You skid to a halt in front of the door and knock quickly, “Spence, it’s me.”

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony,” he murmurs through the door, echoing the earlier sentiments of Penelope. You know he doesn’t believe in it, which only adds to your concern.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fidgeting with the doorknob just to discover it’s locked. “If you don’t unlock the door, I’m going to go find Derek and have him kick it down for me,” you threaten, wondering if the reminder of all of the people here would coax him out.

There was no response from the other side of the door.

Sighing, you turn to look at Luke, “Can you give us a minute?” He nods, letting you know he’ll talk to Garcia before walking down the long hallway.

Once he’s gone, you hear the tell-tale click of the door unlocking, “Garcia will kill you if you walk in here.”

“Penny isn’t here, baby. It’s just you and me, okay?” You speak lowly, “What’s wrong, my love?” Dropping your hand on the doorknob, you startle slightly when it turns and the door swings open.

You yelp when Spencer pulls you in, closing the door behind you before he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. Immediately, you feel his body relax against yours, “Isn’t this supposed to be bad luck?” He murmurs.

Humming, you return his hug gratefully, “We’ve had enough bad luck, don’t you think? It’ll be okay.” His arms loosen around you, and you pull away slightly so you can look up at him, placing your hands tenderly on his chest, thumbing the satin fabric of his lapels. “And besides, I’m not fully dressed yet. I’m fairly certain that means it doesn’t count.”

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, holding you out at arm’s length. “You’re perfect, and I’m…” His voice trails off as he takes a step back from you, sighing as he takes a seat in one of the white chairs in the ready room.

Tilting your head to the side, you felt the fabric of your veil flow to the side, “You’re what, Spence?” You ask, slowly approaching the chair he was sitting in.

He furrows his brows in apprehension, “I think I might be scared of you,” he answers candidly.

You couldn’t help the giggle that spurted from your lips, “Am I really that scary?” You inquire softly, seeking more answers from him. You saw him better now, the darkness of his tux offset by the purple bowtie and handkerchief, joined with the light florals of his boutonnière. Spencer’s hair was a mess, a tell-tale sign that he had been running his hands through it.

Clearing his throat, Spencer looks up at you with a look in his eye that you can’t quite place, “I passed by your room earlier, and I heard you laughing.” He took a deep, tentative breath, “I thought you sounded so happy, and now I’m not sure I can keep you happy.”

Sighing, you duck your head slightly, “Spencer,” you say seriously, “are we still getting married today?”

“What?” He says in disbelief. “Of course we are, that’s not- I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “We’re still getting married; I’ve quite literally never wanted anything more in my entire life. I’m just worried,” he speaks quietly.

Gingerly, you step closer to the chair before he reaches out for you, placing a hand on your waist and gently guiding you down until you are sitting on his lap. “You make me so happy, Spencer Reid. I know that somewhere in that gorgeous brain of yours you know that, but I also know that you are your own worst critic.”

You’re sitting sideways on his lap with your legs latticed on top of each other. Gingerly, he places a hand on your thigh and another on the small of your back, “You deserve everything you want in the world.”

“And I want you. Doesn’t that count for something?” You ask him, emotion beginning to rise in your throat – you cannot cry, then the wedding would really be delayed. “Spencer, I’m so ecstatic that at the end of today, I get to be your wife. That’s such a privilege to me. You and I, we get to be so fucking happy today. We deserve that.” You tell him gently, “We get to be married and go on our honeymoon and come home and we can tell all of your stories to your mom, and we’ll have a baby or two and we’ll be so fucking happy.” You swallow your emotion, looking up at the light in the hope that it will clear your tears. “For the rest of our lives, we’ll be so happy.”

Then it came, “I don’t want to forget you.” His voice is almost imperceptible, but you hear him still.

The ache in his voice feels like a stab to your heart, you were well aware that his mother had Alzheimer’s. She wasn’t having a good day today, but the two of you had gone to visit her in the morning. Ever since she was diagnosed, it’s been like Spencer has a storm cloud hovering over him – he can’t be tested for the gene markers, not for a few more years. Taking a deep breath, you reach over and smooth his hair back, “If you get Alzheimer’s, I will sit down with you every day and remind you. I’m going to walk down that aisle today and tell you that I’m going to love you in sickness and in health and I’m going to mean it.”

“I’m scared,” he murmurs, leaning into your touch.

Using your free hand, you reach up and tenderly wipe a tear from his cheek, “We can take it.”

He nods in agreement with you, “Together, as a team,” he concurs, a slight amount of confidence returning to his voice.

Resting your head on his shoulder, the two of you take your moment. The last moment before you officially unite as one, and you let that moment take as long as you need. “I should go,” you whisper, looking over at the clock, the ceremony was supposed to have started by now.

Spencer leans down and kisses you, “I’ll see you out there?” He asks expectantly.

Nodding assuredly, you reach up and wipe a smudge of lipstick from his mouth, “I’ll be there.”

During the ceremony, you impressively were able to keep yourself together, until you promised him you would love him in sickness and in health.

please remember to like, reblog, and/or comment if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #wedding!spencer #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #mentioningmargins #spencer reid x fem!reader

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a-hazbin-reader · 4 months

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Alastor and reader's wedding? What did her dress look like? How did Al react to her wallking down the isle?? PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW

I always cry at weddings 😭 😭 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Possessive Alastor, FEELINGS

Description: ☝️⬆️

If you two got married when you were alive, then I imagine it was a very small and intimate ceremony

You and Alastor did a lot of the decorating yourselves, even making your own wedding cake because Alastor can BAKE

You two had a blast doing it too, turning everything into a little game and making deals over who could set things up the fastest/nicest

Winner gets a kiss from the loser

You two would likely only invite your closest friends and relatives(if you were close with your family that is)

If Alastor's mother was still alive by the time you guys got engaged then she 110% would be there(I genuinely don't remember when she died soooooo)

She would absolutely be his best man because who else would be worthy of such a position??

Happy tears from her the entire time

This woman will walk you down the aisle if she has to, she won't let you walk alone on your big day

Not Alastor holding back tears at the sight of his mother and soon to be wife walking towards him

Mimzy would also have been there, and she would've fought for her right as maid of honor, like physically fought off her competitors

You're haunted by the memory of it, actually

Absolutely sticks her nose in everything but only because she wants it to be perfect for you two

She will tear up anyone who throws a wrench in the ceremony and will run it better than she did her own club

"These floors better be SPOTLESS! If I see a single speck of dust on that dress-"

She probably insisted on paying for the wedding too

Alastor would probably have a last minute freak out at the thought that this is actually happening, he's getting married

But he wouldn't be nervous about you leaving him at the altar or anything like that, just normal wedding jitters

But he's resolute in the fact that he wants this, he wants to be your husband and share his life with you

And he definitely doesn't want anyone else thinking there's a chance they can take you from him

Alastor is positively radiating warmth and pride by the time you're walking down the aisle, blown away by how stunning you look

Whether the dress is unique, traditional or not even a wedding dress-he's amazed by just how good you look in it

It makes his mouth water

He's lowkey preening for you the entire time

It just makes everything seem more real to him, immediately reaching out to take your hands in order to keep himself grounded in reality

He actually is at a loss for words for once...

"You look really handsome..."

The sight of your happy blush brings him back, and he's pressing his forehead to yours

"And you look nearly as good as I do, my dear~"

Ass

The slight quiver in his smile, glassy eyes and tight grip on your hands gives him away though, you know what he really means

You look heavenly to him

Neither you or Alastor listen to a word the officiant says, too busy gazing lovingly at one another to pay them any mind

And you're definitely not getting distracted at the feeling of his thumbs gently caressing over your hands

When it comes to the vows, Alastor definitely puts his heart and soul into trying to make you cry at words

He's putting on a show for you but you love it ❤️

He looks smug as hell when he finishes

His gaze becomes softer as you say your own vows, smile becoming a little more gooey as you make his heart race

"And if anyone is opposed to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Not Alastor and Mimzy giving death glares to anyone who would even dare saying anything

As if you two even invited anybody who would fucking try

"You may now kiss-"

Alastor doesn't even wait for him to finish, tugging you close and kissing you deeply

And once your arms wrap around his neck then maybe the kiss gets a little too intimate

Mimzy is whistling and cheering while Alastor's mother is politely looking away from you two

You two barely pull away to breathe before he kisses you again, seemingly unable to stop

He just can't believe he's kissing his wife

That he's your husband and everyone is going to know that you're not on the market anymore

Not that you ever were before

It's an embarrassingly long time before you two stop, and you're left panting, rosy-cheeked, and weak in the knees

Alastor doesn't move his arm from your waist for the rest of the night, wanting to keep you close

The only time he does let you go is when he goes to dance with his mother or when it's your turn to dance with his mother

Not her giving you both embarrassing advice about the honeymoon and early married couple life

She wants grandkids dammit

When you two are cutting the cake, he does NOT slam a slice into your face but he does put a bit of frosting on your nose

Only to lick it off a moment later

🥵 BOI

If you do it back to him then he will be properly flustered because he was banking on the fact that you would be too shocked to react

He doesn't care about wedding gifts or anything like that but his mother's blessing means everything to him

So her approval of your marriage and you as her daughter in law just solidified how important you'll always be to him

But don't worry because Mimzy definitely made sure to hook you two up with gifts

Alastor literally can't stop kissing you afterwards, your hands, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, ect

If you return even a smidgen of that affection back to him then it'll only make him more excited for your future together

He's not even thinking of the honeymoon, he's just overwhelmed with the urge to give you affection

He just thinks about how he'll never be tired of being your husband and having you as his wife

Waking up to you, going to bed with you, cooking with you, messing with you, hell even fighting with you sounds appealing because then he can make up with you

Alastor never really thought of himself as the type to get married but you came and completely changed that with your love

Even though he was difficult and fought falling in love with you with everything he had

You fought back harder to love him

Now that he's here with you, looking at the wedding band on your finger, the loving look on your face

Your hand on his cheek gently guiding him to look into your eyes as you lean in towards him

Feeling your lips on his own as you whisper loving things against them before kissing him

He's happy you won that fight

This one was a lot of fun!! I was originally going to do two versions of this! One wedding before you two died and one for after you both were dead but then I included his mom and-

I got very carried away

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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