#but when someone knocks at the door he quickly pulls on a robe or gown to go over it for modesty's sake | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leclvrc · 1 year

Text

love you goodbye | cl x reader

summary: on the day you're supposed to marry someone else, you give in to the pull between you and charles for the last time

content: m/f s*x, r*ding, angst.. lots of it

words: 3k+

He announces himself with two sharp knocks on the door. You don't turn around but your heart squeezes painfully in your chest anyway.

Your mother greets him with a smile, old affection slow to die despite you about to marry someone other than Charles.

"Can I have a moment with the bride?" he asks, voice not betraying him. But there's pain in his light eyes. She nods, a careful expression on her face before kissing him on the cheek. She squeezes his hand before she goes. Looks like she wants to say something but doesn't.

There's too much left unsaid, but you wait for the door to fall shut to turn around. You're not in your dress yet, just a simple dressing gown as your mother and you worked on your hair. You weren't as successful as you'd thought you'd be; too distracted by everything about to happen.

"Excited?" he asks, fingers restlessly drumming against his thigh. His eyes keep flicking over to the dress. Like he can't help but punish himself by looking at it. Like he can't stop imagining it worn on a different day, for him. And you. Just how you dreamt of for all those years when you were too young still to think about stuff like marriage and starting a family despite wanting both so so badly.

Where did it all go wrong? You know the answer of course, but looking at him, in his tailored suit with his combed hair and those same eyes you used to feel grounded by, you can't quite put it into words. What made you leave.

"Yes," you say, a little too late. But honest anyway. Your stomach has been fluttering all day.

He nods, accepts it without comment. Has learnt over time to take what you say as the truth and nothing but the truth.

"Why are you here?" you ask when he doesn't say anything. You can see it in his posture, how his bruised heart is beating away in his chest. How he's trying so hard not to snap and say what he really feels.

"I just--" he stops, breathes in. Out. Once and then twice more. "I need to--"

And then his lips are on yours and shock slips away too quickly for you to do anything but kiss back. Eager. And familiar and hurting. Not as badly as Charles maybe, knowing that your whole future is going to start beyond that door. A groom and guests waiting to celebrate your union as Charles watches on, but the pain is still there. In the way your hands slip into his hair. How you pull on the strands to have him moan and hiss.

It's enough of a distraction to have his hands fall away from your face. To your chest and down. His hands shouldn't feel as good on your skin as they do. As right. But they do and a part of you takes sick fascination in it. How you are prepared to promise yourself away to someone else and still think nothing compares to Charles' hands on you.

Your lips part and then he trails his mouth down your neck. Careful and soft not to leave behind any marks. He's considerate like that. Like he knows you'll have him here, behind closed doors one last time and he has accepted it. That he has no claim on you or your body beyond what you give him.

It's easy though, to let him touch and move you. Tug you off the small seat and against the edge of the vanity. Makeup bottles rattle when you bump the edge with your ass and then you're turned around and come face to face with yourself. And Charles to your back.

You stop for one breathless minute. Take in his flushed cheeks and glistening eyes. How even now, he looks beautiful in his suit. Regal. Like he belongs in it at the end of an aisle with flowers to your feet.

It's a nice fantasy, but one you have to close your eyes against. Your head bumps against the mirror softly. Fogs up as you sigh into the clear surface as his hands slip under your robe. Where you're already a little wet. A little turned on since you first glimpsed him in his suit.

"Fuck," he whispers, lips brushing your shoulder before he pushes off. Like he needs to see for himself. Your legs part a little more as you hold onto the vanity. Try to find purchase where there is none with Charles by your back.

His hand wraps around your hip. Squeezes the flesh softly before sliding around your waist. To your stomach. Where he rubs a couple of soothing circles into the skin. Traces his fingers down. Between your legs. Around your folds. Has your hips rock forward in two seconds flat. But he doesn't give in at first. Doesn't give you the satisfaction of touching your clit more.

You roll your eyes. Too impatient to play this game. Rock your ass against Charles' trousers. Where he's straining against the fabric already, just as eager as you feel. Rub your ass against him some more, have him stutter forward. Until he pins your hips against the vanity with his.

"Charles," you say, name easily uttered in the silence. It feels right, hearing it roll off your tongue as you ache for him. "Touch me."

And he does. Like it was that easy. Like all you had to do was ask for him to break. And give in like he's been wanting to since he knocked on that door.

He has you against the vanity. Right next to where your wedding dress is hanging. Shimmery and beautiful in the low light.

His pants are down by the knees and your robe is hiked up by the thighs and there's a certain desperation you've grown to recognize in the way he grips your hips. The way he intertwines your fingers of one hand to places against the mirror, like he wants to leave a trace behind. That he was there. Making you feel good, desired, on the day you're promising yourself away to someone else.

Someone that is not Charles. Who despite you breaking and ripping his heart into a million tiny pieces, is here. A steady presence to your back. His cock hot and heavy in you. Filling you just so to have you moan and whimper his name with every deep stroke of his cock.

Your eyes meet in the reflection and it's like he can't bear it. Having your eyes on him when he makes you feel so so good. Because he knows it won't last. The same way you know it won't. It's a silent agreement, one that sits heavy between you as he snaps his hips into you. Body opening so beautifully for him despite it.

It always has. You can't imagine a time your body won't feel like a live wire when he touches you.

It's worrisome, thinking that Charles of all people will remain the sole reason your body trembles the way it does now, but at the same time it seems... right. Why lie to yourself when your body would betray you no matter what? When you wrap your free hand around his wrist on your hip and pull it around your waist? Between your legs. Where you're dripping now, stretched around his cock.

You moan, the sound hoarse as he touches your clit again. Rubs circles into the tender folds. Has you arch your back a little more.

He looks lost to the pleasure when you look back up into the mirror. Eyes almost completely closed as he looks down. To where he disappears in you. Where you're wrapped around him, tight and wet and so so close to coming on his cock. His hand falls away from around your waist. Comes to settle on the small of your back before he pushes down.

You fold easily. Feel him slip in that little bit more. Just enough to nudge your g-spot. Just enough to have you see stars where before you could see the gentle slope of his jaw. How his eyelashes fanned across his cheeks.

Pleasure zings down your back. Pulled tight like a rubberband about to snap. Has been for some time. Pretty much since Charles' thrusts have tapered off into a deep grind. One that has your toes curl against the carpet.

"Touch yourself," he says at some point. And it's like a switch has been flipped. Your fingers move with practiced ease and then Charles pushes in, pushes close. Until he can kiss the back of your neck. Nibble at your earlobe.

The sounds he makes get you there in the end. How the air seems to get punched out of his lungs every time he bottoms out. Like he's surprised by how good it feels. How good you feel around him, even after all that time.

You come with his name on your lips. Where it belongs, you think for one breathless moment, guard all the way down until your body trembles from oversensitivity.

He stops then. Still hard. Still desperate to get off.

Your eyes meet again and then he pulls out. Turns you around. Grabs you by the wrist. Fingers of that hand still glistening from where you touched yourself.

His cheeks hollow around the digits and your eyes flutter a little. Pleasure still coursing through your veins. Especially now, seeing him suck your fingers clean. He always enjoyed being on his knees for you. Said he loved your taste. The way you just couldn't help but fuck yourself on his tongue. Use him until you got off.

Your fingers slip free and then you're kissing. One hand wrapping around his cock. The first touch has him gasp against your lips, but you don't stop. Move your hand instead, slow. Flick your wrist in that way you remember him liking.

He tumbles into the bed with you on top of him.

And it's a practiced move. This dance. Falling into bed together. Him throbbing in your hand until you manage to pull your robe off. Drop it to the ground. Careless. Too focussed on feeling his tip nudge against your slit.

You don't draw it out. Slip down his dick, until he bottoms out. Until his hands fly to your waist. Like he has to restrain himself from fucking up, into you from the get go. You wouldn't mind, but this is good too. Perfect even. A little like a religious experience.

Better than one in some ways, having him looking up at you as you look down on him. Feeling the way he throbs in you. Buried from tip to base on the day you're getting married to a cheap imitation of what you and Charles have. Had.

You grind down, relish the feeling of being filled the way you are. Gasp and moan when he fucks up into you after all. Restraint only getting him so far before he snaps. You came once already after all. Charles is rarely selfish outside of the bedroom, but here, right now, he can't help it. Can't help wanting to cum in you, have you tremble on his cock.

"Not fair," you mumble, voice quiet as you look down at him. His beautiful face. Those flushed cheeks. But the kiss you draw him into contradicts anything you could have followed that up with.

It's a deep one. Filthy much like everything you've done so far and your hands are making a mess of his beautiful hair. Twisting and pulling on the strands until the product seems to melt away entirely into a sweaty mess. One you're starting to turn into as he continues to move his hips up. As you continue to stay still. Have him be the one to do the work.

His eyes never once leave your face but his hands remain restless. They come up to your tits. Trail down your waist to your ass. Have you arch into them eagerly before he gives your ass a light clap. One that stings. One that turns the skin hot beneath his hand. Where he grips you, almost owning. If it weren't for the wedding dress hanging from the vanity. If it weren't for the silver ring around your finger -- one that's not identical to the one Charles gave you back then, when you were dumb and in love and taking on the world seemed like the easiest thing to do with him by your side.

How young and naive you were back then. You're still young now, but more jaded. Changed in a way that allows you to fuck your ex on your wedding day. You'll be thinking about this later, when your groom zips down your dress. When he kisses your skin and thinks he's the only one that has touched you that day. When he thinks it's him you think of, late at night.

It's a secret you and Charles will share. One he'll leave with as he watches you walk down the aisle.

He pulls you down into his lap. Quick. A little rough as his fingers dig into your sides. Like he could tell your mind was elsewhere and he couldn't have that happen. Not when he's in you. When he's the one making pleasure slowly coil in your stomach again. It's embarrassing almost, how quick he gets you where he wants you.

But you can tell he's close too. In the way his eyes glisten. How his thrusts turn sloppy and you're the one back in charge. When he's so close to cumming.

You move your hips up and down. Smile, strained and with a moan withering behind your teeth when he thrusts up once. Twice more before his fingers dance down your stomach and to your slick folds. His thumb draws over the stretched skin of your cunt, where you're wrapped around him again.

But his eyes remain on your face. As if he has to look at you falling apart. Memorize the way you look riding him.

His fingers feel heavenly on your clit when they slip back up. Better than yours, because they're Charles'.

When he cums in you, you do so a second later. Follow him over the edge until pleasure snaps. Until it overwhelms your senses. You fall forward, spent, despite your hips twitching back and forth on his softening cock. Bury your face in his sweaty neck. The collar of his crisp shirt ruined.

Your name is whispered into the space above your head. Quiet. Unsure. Like Charles doesn't know what you just did despite his cum slowly trailing between your legs.

You pull off, but don't move away. Stay like that, wrapped up in his body for another moment. Rub your forehead against his chest. Scared what you'll find when you look up. What truth Charles will have unveiled to you with his eyes.

He's an open book to you. Or used to be, but the shuttered look on his face isn't what you expect when you roll away. Into the space next to him. Where he's one warm line against your naked body.

You feel terribly exposed suddenly. With him still in his suit for the most part. With his eyes being unreadable. Lips pinched together like he has to stop himself from saying something.

You shrug into the robe again. Try to find security in the soft way it caresses your body but all it reminds you of is how just minutes earlier Charles had touched you. How his hands had cupped your breasts and his lips sought out yours.

When you stand up, so does he. And it's quiet between you. Now that the sound of each others names have stopped slipping off the others lips. You move, try to put space between you and the bed. Almost sit back down at the vanity, where even now, a mark is left behind. The one your intertwined hands left behind.

"It's a beautiful dress," he says from behind you, voice quiet. You nod, eyes trailing over delicate lace and beautiful folds just to your side. Your husband will love it but he won't appreciate the thought put into it before pulling it off your body tonight.

"I would have loved it," he adds. Doesn't meet your eyes as he does. You don't know what he'd find there anyway. Pain, maybe? For doing this to him? To yourself? Your mind's a mess, but one you appreciate over grasping what you just did.

His hands tremble a little around the buttons of his wrinkled shirt, still made up for the most part. You sigh as you step in, a distant rehearsed memory prompting you to help him like you did so many times before. At events or before important meetings with Ferrari.

"You would," you agree, "You would have loved to see the way it shimmers in the light as we danced."

He hums, pained and then grabs your wrists. Clears his throat before dropping them again. Reminds himself that he has no right to touching you anymore. You would have let him. You would have even kissed him again. Or for the last time. Whatever version you like to tell yourself. All you really know is that you already miss it, the heat of him on your body. How he filled you.

There's evidence of him on your skin still. Between your legs. Slowly trailing down the soft skin of your inner thigh. But it's not enough to trick your brain into believing you'll ask him to stay.

You couldn't, even if you wanted to. It's too late, you tell yourself.

A part of you knows that you'll have to tell yourself that one over and over.

Later, after you've showered, after you've washed away all traces of Charles, watched what you two did swirl down the drain and your mother touched up your lipstick -- the ghost of Charles' mouth on yours still warm -- you walk down the aisle and towards a new future.

One that doesn't have Charles standing on the other side. Instead, he's sitting in the second row to your left and he admires the way your dress shimmers with every step just like you said he would.

#f1 smut #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #**mine

771 notes · View notes

chaoticallywriting · 1 year

Text

A Merciful King ☼ Chapter Three

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen II x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: awkward sex? Eating out, voyeurism, public sex,

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I originally posted this series on TheGreensWhore. Unfortunately I got shadowbanned on there so I’m reposting all of amk onto here and will be posting further chapters on here instead of there.

Synopsis: The war is over, the blacks have lost, and as Rhaenrya’s daughter it is your duty to marry a green to secure your younger brothers safety. If only Aemond paid attention to you like his brother does.

Previously || Next

Your handmaidens treat you as if it’s your wedding day. They scrub your skin until it’s a bright red.pouring various oils into the copper basin. Your hair is scrubbed, massaged, and braided while damp so that it would be curly for the big event. Lila even picks out a lovely night gown for you and sent for your favorite foods. None of which you can find the stomach to eat due to the revolting smells.

The other girls throw a gauzy fabric over the rods of your four-poster bed, creating curtains around all three sides that will offer an obscurity for the maester. It’ll be sheer enough to show your figures, but offers a little privacy. Lila helps you slip into your sage green nightgown. As she adjusts a tie, you feel her slip something small and cold into your hands, and you feel yourself tense up at the realization. The vial of blood, the one you no longer need.

Fuck. Roughly biting your lip, you turn your head to whisper “Thank you, but I won’t need another one after this.”

She nods and steps away, smiling at her handiwork. Myra, another one of your handmaidens, begins to unbraid your dried hair as the time nears. Your heart begins to pound, and you find yourself pacing after the handmaid's leave.You tuck the vial under one of your pillows and rack your hands through your curls.

Will he be rough? Quick and brutal, seeking only his end, or will he offer you the same kindness Aegon did? You fear that somehow this will all go horribly wrong, but you also fear your new reality. He cannot run away any longer, and Aegon seems intent on keeping you close to him. This will prove stressful and tiresome. You only hope that Aemond may stay bored of you, but also wish to seek a friendship with him.

All you wanted was peace. These last few years have been so harrowing, and you wish to know happiness once more. You scarcely remember what it was like to feel carefree How foolish you were to spend all that time wishing to be a woman, when all womanhood brought was pain.

After waiting for what felt like a century, someone knocked at your door. You're quick to pull it open, finding you’ll go insane if you wait one more moment. The maester stands at the front of the trio waiting outside your door. Aemond is at the back, towering over the other two with an unreadable expression on his face. Meanwhile, Aegon is nursing a goblet of wine, which does not surprise you.

There is a chilling anger present in his features. His glare holds a possessive tint that has you scrambling back to let them inside. This needs to end quickly. You can only hope Aemond is quick in bed as the maester shuffles in.

The door clicks shut, and you nervously fiddle with your gown. Aemond hasn’t even looked in your direction, opting to stare at the wall behind you, jaw clenched. Despite knowing this would happen, that doesn’t soften the blow to your pride. You know you look beautiful, hair silken and curled. Lila had dabbled rose oil onto your neck and wrists, while Myra had brushed some into your hair. A satin green robe was wrapped around you to cover your nightgown from anyone who isn’t your husband. The tie is wrapped tightly around your waist, cinching your waist.

“Your grace, the king and I shall stand to the side while you and your husband may start. It will be as if we are not even here.”

There is no way to pretend that is true. Even if they stay silent, you can feel Aegon's gaze on you. His eyes are full of lust, he looks at you how Aemond should. It makes this feel worse as you look into his own eyes, memories flashing between you. You find yourself blushing at his gaze.

The heat from before curls in the pit of your stomach as you tear your gaze from his. Aemond moves towards the bed, and you follow, slowly taking off your robe. He takes off his boots but keeps the rest of his clothes on, opting to untie his pants and pull himself out. You take a deep breath at the sight. He is longer than Aegon, but not as fat. You don’t know if that’s better or worse.

“Do you want me to…?” You gesture to your gown, going to untie one of your straps. He stops you and shakes his head. You nod.

The blanket is soft beneath your hands as you sit on the edge of the bed. Hands tightly gripping the sheets in anticipation. His hand finds your shoulder, lightly pushing you onto your back. The air around you two is tense and incredibly awkward. You look away when Aemond fists his member and jerks it a couple of times. His soft grunts fill the air before he stops and pushes your dress up to your hips.

You hate this, hate this, hate this. You want to push him away when he lines himself up with you, hovering above you and staring off at the blankets beside you. This was not how you imagined your first time with your husband. You had dreamed of him magically changing his mind and kissing you one day before taking you to bed. This is nothing like that.

The wind is knocked out of you once he bottoms out inside of you. Your hand grips his shoulder in a bruising hold as a breathless gasp leaves your lips. This hurts more than with Aegon. He’s deeper, and it seems the dryness has added an uncomfortable factor. You may have been a little wet at the thought of your night with his brother, but not much.

He begins to slowly thrust inside you, only adding to the god awful feeling. You don’t realize you're crying until you taste the saltiness of your own tears. A few moments go by with that awful feeling. You find yourself staring up at the ceiling above when the pain slowly subsides. It takes a few moments for the pain to subside. Not enough for you to suddenly enjoy yourself but enough to stop crying. Soon his thrusts turn sloppy and his breathing intensifies before stilling above you.

Aemond pulls out of you, stuffing himself back into his pants and standing up. You stay lying down, finding there to be an uncomfortable ache between your legs now. You don’t realize you were tightly fisting the blankets until reality starts to set back in. The murmurs of the maester speaking with Aemond can be heard, but it sounds far away. All you wish to do is curl up in a ball, but there’s a small part of you telling you to get up. To jut your chin out and act like the bedding did not bother you as much.

You are Rhaenrya’s daughter. A mighty dragon, not some sad little lamb to be devoured. Eaten whole and spit out the bones. You devour, you conquer. So with a shaky breath you pull yourself up until you sit on the edge of the bed, eyes a bit bleary as you watch the maester leave. Aegon’s cup seems to be empty, he eyes you with an unreadable look before storming out after the maester.

Aemond is putting on his boots as you try to find your bearings. You know he has a separate bedchamber nearby and is probably planning to head there. Clearing your throat, you wrap your arms around yourself and stare at your husband.

“I didn’t ask for this, you know?”

He scoffs.

“Truly, I was asking your brother for an annulment this morning, and now we are here.”

There are a few beats of silence. He won’t look at you as he thinks of what to say, so you keep talking.

“I know she holds your heart, I do not wish to steal it. I simply want to be friends, like when we were young and still happy with our lives.” You stand up, wincing at the movement, and pad over to him. He stares at the ground as you stand a few inches in front of him. “If we are stuck in this marriage then the least either of us could do is be nice to one another or the rest of our lives shall be miserable. I do not wish for that, and I assume you don’t either.”

“I love her” his voice is low, his eyes sweeping up to look at yours. “I will never stop loving her.”

There’s a stabbing sensation within your heart at his words. You may not love him, but to hear your husband declare his love for another hurts nonetheless. You are stuck in a loveless marriage and will probably never be loved. It is your fate to never know what it’s like to hold one's heart as this Alys Rivers does.

“I know.” you murmur. “But can you please stop talking about having me killed? It’s not a very nice thing to do.”

His lips twitch at that before nodding. You hope your words will stick, you’ll pray about it if you must. Aemond leaves soon after, and suddenly your room feels so cold. You climb back into bed, hand searching beneath your pillow before wrapping your fingers around the glass vial. You pour a few drops onto the bed where you once laid before disposing of the rest. That will assure Alicents spies that you are still a maiden. Hopefully your handmaidens will gossip and word of this night will get out. There won’t be a way to try to shame you anymore, at least not for now.

Many days have gone by since the consummation. It’s been long enough that your blood should arrive within the next few days. You obviously know it won’t and with that all will think you are with Aemond’s child. Little do they know it’s been two months, not just one.

Perhaps your handmaidens will be loyal, and you’ll be able to go on another month or so before the pregnancy is discovered. You wonder if it’s worth keeping a secret at this point, or if you should wait for someone else to point it out.

The stares have stopped, along with the whispers. You feel grateful for this and find yourself strolling through the gardens. Today you will not go to the godswood and spend the rest of the time panicking in your room. You shall go through the gardens, maybe stop by the nursery. Perhaps attend dinner for once instead of having it sent to your room.

Just off the path along the walkway in the gardens, you find a bench sequestered from the watchful eyes of the court and find yourself compelled to take a seat, so you may bask in the sun. You tilt your head back and close your eyes as you take in the shining rays, hands clasped in your lap.

The birds chirp peacefully, and the breeze shifts through the leaves. This moment is truly peaceful, but the peace does not last for long. It never does.

You hear the snap of a twig and open your eyes. In front of you is Aegon, surprisingly without a goblet in hand. He quickly approaches you and cups your cheeks. His goblet falls to the ground, and he pulls you in for a bruising kiss. He does it so quickly that you hardly have time to protest, let alone reciprocate it before he’s pulling away.

“I have been thinking about doing that since your night with my brother.” His lips trail down your neck, hands slipping to your thighs. You tightly close them and put your hands on his chest, ready to push him away when he continues. “I had to be there, to make sure you didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t, now can you stop? We’re in public.” He smirks against your neck, face tilting up to look into your eyes. “Anyone may see, and people just stopped talking about me.”

“Let them talk, I want everyone to hear your pretty moans. I haven’t heard them in so long” He kneels between your legs, slowly pulling them apart despite trying to keep them closed. “Please?”

You’ve never heard Aegon say such a word. It honestly stuns you. He takes this moment to rub up and down your thighs, pulling your skirts up enough to feel your skin beneath his hands. He kisses your inner thigh, and you find that heat returns. Gods you must be weak to consider doing this, but he desires you in a way no one else has. The things he’s made you feel have been otherworldly. You find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself.

Aegon smirks, nipping at your inner thigh before pushing his head under your skirt. You quietly yelp at his actions, a hand instinctively going to his hair while the other lays flat on the stone bench. He licks a thick strip up your folds, you find yourself shuddering and biting your lip to try to contain your moans.

You can’t close your eyes, you have to remind yourself to try to keep a watch just in case. He keeps licking your folds before his tongue finally swirls around your bundle of nerves, causing you to jerk in shock. A strained moan slips out at his actions, and you feel him tighten his grip around your thighs.

He wraps his lips around your bud, beginning to harshly suck on it. You instinctively grind against his face at the action, moaning louder and slapping a hand to your mouth at the noise. The hand in his hair tightens and pulls. The fire in your stomach is burning.

Aegon moans as you pull on his hair, the sound vibrating against your clit. Two of his fingers spread your folds apart. Running along them to coat his fingers in your slick before thrusting two fingers inside you. Your stomach tightens and not long after he finds a spot within you that brings stars to your eyes. You come around his fingers with shaking thighs and an arched back, strangled moans muffled by your hand.

He fucks you through your orgasm, letting go of your bud and opting to kitten lick it. He groans at the feel of your walls convulsing around his fingers, and slowly pulls them out once you’ve calmed down. You drop your hand and pant, hands pushing your skirts down when he pulls away.

Aegon pushes his fingers against your lips and says in a commanding voice, “suck.”

You find yourself doing as you're told without even thinking, mouth opening and lips wrapping around his fingers before you suck on them. Your eyes close as you softly moan, thighs rubbing together at the feel this brings you. Aegon reluctantly pulls his fingers out of your mouth and stands.

He’s smirking down at you, looking at your blown out eyes and flushed cheeks. Before he can stop himself, he’s leaned down to kiss you, murmuring against your lips. “I will find you tonight so that I may feel you against my cock again.”

He leaves you in that little hidden area of the gardens, a confident stride to his walk. You spend a few moments collecting yourself before rushing off, only hoping no one witnessed the two of you. You’ll need a cool bath now before dinner. The nursery will have to wait until tomorrow.

Family dinner comes and goes with little fanfare. Alicent spoke for most of it, trying to get her son to open back up, while Aegon blatantly stared you down. It was hard to focus on the food in front of you, and oftentimes found yourself finding comfort within your cups to keep from flushing under his stare.

Aemond hardly responds to his mother nor does he eat much. His mind is elsewhere. You’ve only seen him a handful of times since that night. Not as if you’ve tried though. Most of your time has been spent trying not to puke around others or make your obvious distaste about the smell of meat known.

By the time you made it back to your chambers, you found yourself particularly exhausted. Dealing with the minefield that is a family dinner while being an outsider to it has left you feeling faint. Once inside, you find yourself crawling into bed, not caring about your dress or the jewelry you wore and drifted off to sleep.

Your slumber did not last for long, though. You feel hands slowly peeling your dress off of you, soft ones at that. “No…” you mumble softly, half-heartedly pushing them away while keeping your eyes closed.

“Shhh,” the deep voice says. You know that voice, it’s Aegon. At this moment all you want to do is sleep, and you feel dread rattle your bones at what he might try to do. “I’m just taking this off.”

“Not tonight, please” you nuzzle your pillow and groan. “Just sleep tonight.”

Your dress is off now, and you shiver as the air grazes your skin. He takes some time figuring out how to take off your earrings and gives up on your necklace before settling in behind you. He pulls the blankets above you both before wrapping his arms around and nuzzles the back of your neck.

“I just want to hold you,” he says. His voice lacks its usual mischief, and you relax in his arms. His lips turn up against the back of your neck in what you can only assume is a smile before he sighs. “I’ve always wanted to hold you.”

Any other day, one where you are sober, his words would confuse you. Tonight, though, you simply find yourself humming at his words, too sleepy to realize what he may mean. Your legs tangle with his, and you sigh at the comforting feeling his embrace brings you. His fingers trace your bare belly, and he occasionally kisses your neck. Not in the hungry way that he did the night in his chambers, which confuses you.

Aegon did not seem capable of this type of thing. Ever since he married his sister, he was only known for fucking whores and getting drunk. He was hardly ever serious, at least from what you’ve seen. Certainly never sweet like this.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me?” You don’t know it, but gods, your words make him almost lose his resolve. He softly groans at your words before shaking his head, his voice is low and soft, almost sweet.

“Not like this, you seem too tired. My son must be exhausting you in there.”

“You can’t stay though,” your voice is groggy, and you briefly open your eyes before groaning and closing them once more. He nods, hand flat against your stomach, but doesn’t move.

“I won’t, just go back to sleep.” So you do, and your dreams consist of him, all him. But none of it is horrifying as it was before.

#aegon x reader #aegon #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you #hotd x you #hotd x reader #hotd smut

640 notes · View notes

banditthewriter · 2 years

Text

I’ve debated telling this story because of reasons but I had someone reach out about something similar so, here why not.

TW: mention of past sexual assaults, not detailed. This story pertains to a gynecologist visit, nothing detailed either.

So! I went for a pap smear recently because after the last period that lasted fucking 5-6 weeks, I thought I should be seen. My current gynecologist is wonderful and I’d gotten a little message from her in the portal a few days beforehand saying she looked forward to seeing me. Confirmed appointment day before via text. Get to the office and the receptionist tells me that my gynecologist had to leave on an emergency and we had the option to either move my appointment to another doctor at the practice or reschedule. It’s nearly impossible for me to take time off right now so I said move to another doc. They put me on a doctor’s schedule, a doctor I hadn’t seen at this office, and I asked “is this doctor a woman?” and I was told yes.

Now to backtrack really quickly, I worked at a doctor’s office so I know how it goes when a doctor is pulled away by an emergency, professional or personal in nature. Sometimes it happens very quickly and they don’t have time to contact all of the appointments that are coming up so instead the patients find out when they arrived. I was understanding of this because 1) I’m an understanding human and 2) I’ve worked in a doctor’s office I know how it goes and I’m for sure not going to yell at the receptionist for something I know she has no control over ffs (sorry, past job rant almost derailed me lol). ANYWAY!

So I’m sitting in the office after talking to the nurse and getting the preliminary stuff out of the way, weight/BP/questions/etc. I’m not in the gown yet because usually the doctor comes in, talks to me, then tells me to get undressed and she’ll be right back. Since the nurse hadn’t said otherwise, I figured we were following the same flow.

A guy pops his head in (without knocking) and says “oh, you should be in your gown for your exam.” I’m very confused and say “I’m waiting for Dr So and So.” He says “I know, you need to get in the gown. I’ll be right back.”

Now I’m starting to get this feeling that there was a miscommunication somewhere. I get into the gown and climb on the table and wait. Guy opens the door again (without knocking...again) and comes over. He has my chart in his hands. He reads it quickly and then looks at me.

“I’m Dr So and So. Let me get the nurse and we will start with the exam.”

My feeling was sadly correct. I am not happy about this. I try to interrupt while he opens the door and ushers a nurse in. Tech is not the same one that did my prelim and she looks very harried and unsure. He starts grabbing his gloves and the stuff. At this point I snap my legs together, sit up fully, and say “No, this isn’t going to happen today.”

The doc gets an attitude and says “you came here, you are on my schedule, we are doing the appointment.”

No. Actually hell no. “It is notated in my chart that I cannot have a male doctor so no, actually, we are not doing this appointment. The receptionist told me you were a woman and that’s the only reason I’m on your schedule. I would like you to leave so that I can get dressed and leave.”

“It’s notated that you are a sexual assault victim and request a woman doctor but it also says you’re married so you’re probably accustomed to having a guy down there by now. Don’t you want to find out if something is wrong?” I’m seeing red but then this clown compounds it by saying “If you leave, you’ll have to pay for a cancelled appointment.”

At this point I wrap the robe around myself, go over to the door and swing it open and almost literally yell out “someone get this doctor out of this room so that I can change and leave right this instant” which of course gets a lot of attention. Other doctors come over, nurses, and a few patients who were in their rooms or in the hallway are now watching as Doc Douche leaves while mumbling under his breath. The tech is almost in tears as she apologizes to me. I slam the door, get dressed, and storm past everyone to go to the checkout desk. The receptionist is white as a sheet and apologizes, she’s new and she got the doctors mixed up. I tell her I understand things happen but she really needs to be careful. Then the other person there says the doctor handed them my chart and I owe the $200 cancellation fee. I say that I need to speak to their patient advocate because after the shitshow that just happened in the room, I’m not paying a damn cent.

Fast forward through telling the story to the advocate who seems...like she doesn’t really believe me tbh. I tell her to get the tech in there, describe her and say she seems new. They bring in the tech who is still crying who backs me up. The advocate looks disgusted but not at me as she tells me to wait and leaves the room. Comes back with my chart which has the cancellation fee marked out. She gets it notated that I’m to only see a woman doctor if my usual doctor is unavailable, I made sure the receptionist wouldn’t get in trouble, and she took detailed notations against the doctor.

I don’t know what will come from all of this. I still haven’t actually seen the doctor for what was going on because I haven’t had the chance to take the time off and I’m back on my period again. Needless to say, my next appointment I’m either going to have Chaotic Neutral or The Twin with me because fuck this, I’m tired of people not taking women’s voices seriously and I will use my “scary man” privilege to make sure I don’t have to go through this shit again.

Okay. I’m done ranting. I hate doctors.

#this is why i hate doctors

21 notes · View notes

sparrowmoth · 2 years

Text

I keep daydreaming about a fic where poltergeist activity starts up at Hell Hall after Carlos breaks through the barrier. Just little things that add credence to rumours of the place being haunted, except it's not just rumours anymore. The cupboards slam open and shut at night, Cruella's cigarettes burn too hot and turn to ash in her hands, knives fly out the drawer and narrowly miss Jasper's head, Carlos wakes up with scratches and bruises that his mother didn't inflict (he assures the others over and over—it's not getting worse, just... stranger).

Things happen outside the house, too. Maleficent starts berating Mal in public and her robes start to smoke, then set ablaze; she turns her fury on someone in the crowd behind her, screeching at the nerve of them while Mal makes her escape. Jafar goes to raise a hand to Jay and a TV falls off a top shelf and knocks him out cold; Jay doesn't so much as check his pulse before leaving the junk shop. Evil Queen is smiling in that condescending way, assessing Evie with a look; she clicks her tongue and opens her mouth to say something cruel when suddenly a ruler flies past her throat, leaving a thin line of blood that begins to trickle down, threatening to stain her white-collared gown.

Evie's the first to notice the pattern. These things that happen... it's only ever when Carlos is present. But why? He has no magic. And it's not a trick, she's sure. He couldn't have planned it. More than that, he never shows emotion about these kind of things. He looks so... calm.

She doesn't mention it, though it stays on the back of her mind.

And then they go to Auradon.

Things escalate so quickly.

Evie and Mal are accused of hexing and cursing, and well, some of the... incidents might have had something to do with them (not that anyone can prove it), but what about the shower in the boys' locker room scalding a guy who'd been giving Jay a hard time? What about those who'd seen a locker door slam open, breaking someone's nose? Someone who had, not moments earlier, made a tasteless comment about Cruella. Carlos had heard it. He'd been meant to. But students around had sworn, despite how strange it was, no one was near that locker when it happened. Carlos, for his part, had been as surprised as anyone to hear the sudden shriek of pain and the gushing blood.

Never mind that Evie and Mal were on the other side of campus with airtight alibis, they were still the ones suspected, because who else?

Oh, but Evie wouldn't say anything, even then.

She wasn't certain yet, and even if her theory was true, the thought that Carlos would blame himself for something out of his control...

Things continue to escalate. In Goodness class, Fairy Godmother seems to lose control of the chalk. She's writing so hard, it sounds like nails on the chalkboard. Her smile is tight when she finally gives up and drops the chalk. Then, King Beast makes an appearance at a school assembly and barely makes it past "hello" at the mic when he starts to fidget with his crown. "It's..." He grunts and seems to try to pull it off, but it doesn't budge. After a muttered exchange, Belle tries to help him remove the crown. "It's too tight," is the last thing heard before he knocks the mic with his elbow and the feedback shrieks. The student body erupts into chaos as they watch the king collapse.

On a field trip to the museum, everyone begins to sweat as they enter the Hall of Villains. Nothing to stop their tour guide's fifty mile ramble about Auradon's dark history. That is, until the wax figures begin to melt. They are ushered out just as display cases begin to shatter.

Evie notices Carlos doesn't look as calm. He looks angry. Or at least, he did. When she glanced him before it happened. After that, it was just the same as always—he looked startled, confused, even afraid.

He's the one who tells her that night. He's noticed the pattern, too. But he doesn't know what it means. He doesn't have magic. And it doesn't make sense, from a scientific perspective, but...

"I think I'm bad luck," he confesses like a shameful secret.

254 notes · View notes

anaveragebibliophile · 3 years

Text

Gratitude

Young!Legolas x Thranduil x Wife!Reader

After spending some time with his father, Legolas discovers just how lucky he is to have a mother like you. And someone else seems to be inclined to agree as well.

It was on this night that the sky slowly faded into the most spectacularly calm colors. Light blues and pointed yellows faded to make room for the syrupy corals and mandarins that signaled night’s falling. And without having had the good sense to sneak a peek out the window within the last half hour, you’d have missed all the beauty that Valar (God) bestowed upon Middle-Earth.

Soon, a soft knock sounded on the door to your and your husband’s--the king’s--chambers. “Hello, Naneth (mother),” a sweet, little voice said.

“Hello, lasdithen (little leaf). How was your time in the study with Ada (Father)? I hope he didn’t consume himself with much work during your time together,” you smiled, knowing the impending council meeting had been one of the biggest stressors for your beloved husband. So much so that neither you nor your son had seen much of him the last few days. Thirty minutes--the time you pushed him to spend with Legolas--was the longest break he’d awarded himself all day.

Legolas’ mouth quirked up in a grin at the mention of his father. “We had the best time, Naneth. Ada showed me many special books and told me many stories about our kin, even a few about you.”

At that comment, your initially lively, stimulated countenance faltered a bit. “Me? What did your Ada mention, lasvelui (sweet leaf)?”

“A battle with Orcs, lots of iâr (blood), and how you stopped Ada from worrying and pushed him to fight.”

Well, that was putting things very lightly. You remembered that day as if it were yesterday.

Watching Thranduil jump from his throne when a guard, sprinting into the throne room, informed him of the security breech at the gates. Hearing your husband’s harsh bellows, and seeing how they appeared to be shaking the stone pillars that held part of the castle in place. And, hastily grabbing the outer-most sleeve of his robes before he made his way down the marble steps, pushing your lips together for one last mind-numbing kiss.

The urgency with which he grabbed your waist informed you of how frightened he truly was by this attack. And, to be completely honest, it perturbed you too. It had been at least a century since any Orcs had dared to quarrel with the Woodland Realm. Why now? What was the purpose?

“Don’t worry about us,” you instructed, hands clasping the thin hairs at the nape of his neck. “Legolas is napping in our chambers. I will make sure it stays that way.”

“How can I not? You two are my life, hûn velui (sweetheart). Without you, I cannot even imagine what my life would become.”

“You need only trust. Fate will take care of the rest. I believe we will have a long, happy life together. You, me, and our beautiful, beautiful son.”

“Our little leaf, our greatest treasure.”

“Yes, all ours. Now go. These feelings of uncertainty aren’t who you are. Be the proud, arrogant aran we all know and love.”

An imperceptible movement at the left corner of his mouth was what assured you he got the message. Then, with his signature eye roll, he took leave immediately, belting out orders surrounding battle strategy, infirmary locations, and the leader’s head being left for proper disposal--at the sword of the king.

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

“Naneth?” Legolas queried, having moved away from the door to lightly pull on the lower hem of your dressing gown.

“I’m sorry, darling. I was thinking back to that time with your father.”

He nodded in understanding. “I’m glad you’re my Naneth. You always make everything better.”

You kneeled before him, opening your arms in the hope that he would get your message. And in what probably counted out to be three seconds, you found a tiny, kind-hearted boy’s head pressed against your bosom.

“She does, doesn’t she, iôn nín (my son)?” came the voice of your husband.

Very quickly, your eyes--fresh with rapidly shedding tears--met his drier but no less affected ones.

“Please join us, Ada.”

“Yes, Thran, please do join. We can have a family hug of sorts.”

Being given the go-ahead seemed to do wonders for him. Forever uncertain that husband of yours was.

And, making haste, he reached the two people he valued most in the world in rapid time and proceeded to make it known how much he adored them. Choosing to sit on his bum in a criss-cross fashion rather than kneel, he soon snaked his right arm around his son’s back and performed a similar movement on his wife.

“Thank you for this, hervess nín (my wife). Thank you for everything.”

#legolas #the hobbit #lord of the rings #thranduil #fnfic #thrandolas #thranduil x reader

277 notes · View notes

ren-therose · 3 years

Text

The Penthouse Plot

Sherlock X F!Reader (3.8k words)

Summary: Sherlock, John and Reader all go to a penthouse party to pick up some clues about their newest case. But Y/N and Sherlock are put in a compromising situation.

Warnings: smut 18+, semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), creampie, squirting, after care

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We are going to a party”

This was an incredibly abrupt statement from the detective who was still in pajamas at four in the afternoon, slouched down into the arm chair with the news paper covering his face. I couldn’t see his emotions, but I could tell that the idea had already been formulated, and he had not quite been excited out of it. His boredom was chronic, and it would often times only be soothed by myself to get him out of it.

The first time we met, I was sitting on a park bench in Paddington Street Gardens, not but two blocks away from his flat. As if drawn to the cigarette I was smoking, he walked up as casually as he could, coat turned up, and sat on the bench over from my left. I didn’t look, but I was aware that a tall, dark man was watching me as I tried to solve today's crossword in the paper.

He leaned closer, trying to take in the smoke for the nicotine high. With a slight glance his way, it was all I needed to take the cigarette from my mouth in my left hand, and casually rest it on the bench next to me. I blew out the smoke to the right side of my mouth though, purposefully keeping it from him, allowing my lips to guide the smoke in a stream to dissipate into the morning air. Still looking at the crossword, I began filling in 20 across, feeling a sense of intrigue and frustration emanating from the man next to me.

“It’s not diva, its aria,” a deep voice says. I smirk, not looking up to his face quite yet.

“No shit, Sherlock. 18 down is ‘erie’, so why would I put down diva?” I inquire, but before he could answer, I reply myself. “I was proving my hypothesis: is the detective next to me just trying to second-hand smoke, or is he actually paying attention to me? And the answer was both.”

He stands and comes to sit on my right side, not looking at me directly. The cigarette dangling from my lip wasn’t his main concern anymore.

“How quickly did you realize it is only an herbal cigarette Mr. Holmes?” I ask, erasing my trap from 20 across.

“As soon as I first looked at you. You have no stains on your fingers from the smoke, as well as no burns, which tells me you don’t smoke often. If you were a smoker, you would need at least a pack a day, and these tell-tale signs would be there. You don’t need to smoke because there isn’t an addiction. I presume you do it to attract men, though possibly women too, and to fit into the culture of London, as you are not from here. But you specifically looked up this park because you were looking for something or someone. I would presume it is me, considering you recognized me through my name” he says smuggly, finally looking at me. I didn’t know it then, but he later explained that he was shocked to see the prominence of my “subtle beauty”, and the way in which I held posture in every way that symbolized I was relaxed next to him. This of course was followed by the fact that I was so comfortable that I had gained a pound within the first year of knowing him.

“So you are as good as they say,” I reply, looking up into his clear blue eyes. Those eyes dart down to my lips where the cigarette is still being held by the moisture of my mouth. I remove it, holding out the cigarette between my fingers. “I can imagine it is worlds different from a regular cigarettes addictive effects, but the smell of smoke and the herbs inside might calm you,” I offer. He leans down and takes the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling deeply. I let go of the cigarette as he leans back and removes it. He exhales out, happy to have something other than CO2 leave his lungs.

“You could have phoned” he said nonchalantly. I closed the newspaper and turned my body slightly more towards him.

“No I couldn’t. This isn’t about a case or me looking for my parents or some shit. I needed you to listen. I am a doctor and I am looking for the topic of my next publication” I state. His eyes widen a bit, as he gives me a once over. I was quite young to have a doctorate, but the ambition I have was intriguing to him.

“Great, another doctor. And you must study some form of psychology right?” he implies.

I chuckle as I brush the hair behind my ear to look at him as I explain my credentials.

“BA in a social science and a minor in Women's Studies and Gender, just to make it easier on you. Two masters in something to do with policy and a knack for behavior trends across cultures. A PhD in…” I trail off to let him figure it out.

“International Relations. You couldn’t let go of the need to work abroad and help other. You also study the difference in human behaviors and how it can be interpreted and persuaded. It is why you are now living in London, after living in a southern European country, and I’m going to go with Italy” he responds.

I raise my eyebrow at him. “Italy was fun. I spent most of the time on the mainland with a friend and would visit their family in Sardinia”.

“He was gay wan’t he?”

“Not that he himself knew.”

The detective laughed. It was the beginning of a friendship, with many late nights, bad coffee and fighting. I lived in the basement of 221 Baker Street, after coming to a bargain price with Mrs. Hudson if I agreed to get rid of the black mold and redo the space for future renters. When I asked her why she was already thinking of future renters, she just smiled and told me Sherlock's door was open and I could just walk in.

Now, a year and a half later, I was in his flat, in my own night gown and robe, working on pot of tea to make a London foggy, one of Sherlocks favorite drinks I could make. I had told him that if he got to work in his pajamas, or just a sheet at times, then he couldn’t expect anything less of me. But his abrupt statement that we were going to a party had me do a double take.

“A party? Are we feeling like clubbing tonight Sherlock?” I tease.

“It is just a bit of field work. But I need you to come with as my date so that I am not bothered by lonely, sad women.”

“Ah yes. All the lonely, sad women will flock to the handsome, cocky detective for comfort and an inquisitive night,” I mock, bringing the tea to him.

“Isn’t that what you did?” He says without looking up.

Offended, I grab the paper from his hands and smack him on the head with it. He flinched, protecting his tea from me.

“Haven’t you figured it out by now? I’m here for John” I say, tossing the paper into his lap. Sherlocks mouth slightly gapes before he snaps it shut, looking behind me.

“I’m sorry, what did I just walk in on?” John says from the doorway. Sherlock turns red as I walk up to John, pulling my leg up on him, placing my hand on his cheek while giving him a lingering kiss on the other, maintaining eye contact with Sherlock. “Afternoon John,” I say with a flirtatious growl. He didn’t move since my dramatic act, and as I exited the apartment to get ready, I hear John exclaim “I could get used to that kind of welcome”. I laugh as I hear the paper get thrown at the doctor.

Two hours later, and a lot of fighting with a curling wand, I hear a knock at my door. I do a once-over of myself in the mirror. It was a high-end party, requiring a more put together look, and I was determined to look my best. In helping Sherlock and John, I realized that I rarely dressed up-practicality and professionalism is key.

I put my phone into my handbag, and slipped my feet into my black pointed stilettos. One more once-over in the mirror next to the door, and I unlatched the lock. As soon as I opened it, the detective couldn’t help but let his eyes wander. My hair was in loose curls around my face, and the dress, oh the dress, flattered my body in every way. It was a silk green dress, that hugged every curve. It was ruched in the sides, creating a tight draping across my abdomen. The fabric on my bust sat just below the tops of my breasts, and dropped to my off-the-shoulder sleeves. I was wearing a simple emerald necklace with matching earrings, and a ruby ring on my left hand. My legs were well accentuated, and the stilettos did wonders for my posture. Still, I was the same girl in pajamas at this now well suited man's place as I was now.

“You’re giving yourself away Detective,” I flirt, walking by him to climb the stairs to the front of the building. I make extra care to add a little movement as I climb, knowing he would be right behind me and very distracted. It was my favorite game to tease both of the boys, but especially Sherlock. It was always a game, and he loved games. As I exited the building, John was waiting for us outside, also dressed sharply. His eyes widened as I walked towards him.

“In the words of a great detective, ‘Your body betrays you’ John. It’s still me inside this get-up. Now where is the cab?” I ask.

“Umm...uh, there hasn’t been an available one yet...” he forces out.

London was busy on a Saturday night, and it could often be difficult to find a cab. Lucky for us, my dress is pretty reflective, and I was going to use that to my advantage. I stepped off the curb just slightly, jutting out my shoulder blades and putting my weight on one foot to give myself more shape. By the time I had raised my hand, two taxis pulled up. I heard a cough behind me, Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson both smirking at me.

“I’m sorry, did you have a better idea?” I shoot at them. I open the door for myself and climb into the cab. The two men clambered in after me.

The party was at a lovely high-rise in the middle of London. It looked to be a penthouse, but one grander than I had ever seen. As the three of us exited the elevator, we looked at each other once more, setting our plan in motion. John was to walk around and mingle, while Sherlock and I were to snoop about the place, looking for context clues. I grabbed a flute of champagne from one of the trays, and Sherlock and I began our promenade. We quickly realized that I was drawing a bit too much attention in my get-up and we would need to look around before people noticed we were gone. Our arms entwined, we strolled past the main crowd into a hallway, casually chatting the weather. The detectives hand was on my waist, holding tightly, as though I might leave his side. It was different than they way he usually grabbed my arm to move me around or out of the way of harm.

We were looking for the bedroom of our hosts place, though, it did not seem there was one here. The penthouse was more of a party pad then a living space, which lends more to our profile of him. We continued to walk, and came across a study. His hand slid off my waist as he entered the room. I stood outside with my drink, while Sherlock took note of every little detail there. As he came out of the room though, I heard footprints coming round the corner. I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the bathroom next to the study. As I pushed him in, our eyes searched each other for the next move that we hadn’t initially planned. Though we were going as a date, it was never really a date. Until now.

Grabbing the lapels of the detectives suit, I slammed my lips on his, pushing us both backwards onto the sink. Knowing that he was more recognizable. I spun him around so that my back was to the sink and his was to the door. I jumped on to the sink, hiking up my dress a little higher, so that I could hook one leg around his waist. Instinctively, his right hand went to my leg to hold it up, and his left hand was in my hair.

His lips. I had seen them a million times before, studying his face as he rambled about a case. While he was just a colleague and possibly a friend, there were a few times when I would fall asleep thinking about those lips. And here he was, kissing me on a bathroom sink at a party, with enough force to make me melt into it. My hand went to his hair, as he began to trail kisses down my neck, hiding his face in me so that his reflection could not be seen. My other hand was gripping his waist, trying not to slip into the sink itself. My shoe was dangling on my toes as our bodies continued to crash. We heard the door click open, and my eyes opened to see the host and his assistant wide-eyed at us.

“Occupied,” I panted, smiling with a small wave. The two quickly shut the door, their footprints receding down the hallway. As soon as it was quiet, Sherlock froze on my collarbone, neither of us moving for a moment. I removed my hand from his hair, trying to pat it back into place. He stood up, and looked down at me. My dress had ridden up further, and my black lace panties were definitely on display. So was the red in both of our faces. I glanced over his shoulder to look at the door, realizing that there was a lock on it. Sherlock didn’t look back. He kept his eyes on me.

He knew there was a lock. He wanted the situation. He wanted to get caught.

“Lock it” I demanded.

He took a few steps back and turned the button, locking the door. His eyes didn’t leave me. I was still propped up against the sink, both hands propped up behind me. My legs had still been open, and as his eyes raked over my body looked, I grew self-conscious and went to close them. But he stepped towards me, grabbing my lower thigh. I hesitantly opened myself back up for him. His hand moved up my thigh, while the other wrapped around my waist, drawing himself closer to me. I placed a hand on his chest, running it up until it was at the nape of his neck, playing with his soft, black curls. I gently tugged him toward me, and our lips attached once more. This time, it was more more sensual. Taking the time to just allow ourselves to feel one another. As he pulled away, I let out a small gasp as I felt his growing bulge against my clothed core.

He seized the opportunity to kiss me again, letting his tongue wander and explore my mouth, pulling me as close as I could be to him. He pushed himself against me, causing a soft moan to escape, as I involuntarily rolled against him. He smirked against my mouth, moving once more against me. I hissed, feeling myself grow wetter.

Sherlock pulled me off the sink, wrapping both of my legs around him before pinning me against the wall. I was sitting just on top of his cock, and the friction was even more frustrating. I grinded down on him, kissing his neck, while leaving small bites in between. I needed more though. I unwrapped my legs, and he lowered me to the ground. When he placed me down, I kissed him with passion while I started to undo his trousers. He walked backwards to the sink, leaning up against it, as I palmed him through his suit. His low groan made me quiver as I licked a long stripe up his neck to his ear, wear I softly bit the lobe. This drove him crazy.

Pants still undone, he whipped us around so that I was against the sink again. He pulled my dress up enough so that he could hook his fingers in the lace of my panties and pull them down. He lifted me up on to the sink to get them off of me. He worked them past my heels, and placed both of his hands on my thighs, rubbing circles into them with his thumb. His forehead was resting on mine and we were both breathing in sync. I opened my legs for him, as he traced his way between my legs. The violinist in him was showing, and he was going to work out the tension and boredom he had been feeling all day. His fingers came in contact with me, running through my folds. He went from my clit down to my opening, just toying with me. I let out a whimper as he placed his middle finger just barely inside of me. He slowly pushed his digit inside of me, causing a guttural groan to escape. I bucked into his hand, desperate for more. He pumped it casually, as if he had done this to me a million times and knew how I would react. He then slipped a second finger into me, causing me to emit another moan.

“Please Sherlock. No games,” was all I could manage.

He began to pump his fingers in a come-hither motion, curling them to hit my g-spot. I gasped with every movement, keeping as quiet as I could. He was working his way to get me as wet as I could be for him. I was starting to feel the tension in my stomach build when he placed his thumb on my clit and made sharp movements with it. I cried out, gripping his shoulders for support. I was going to need him soon if he wanted to me to finish with his cock inside me. But he kept pumping and rubbing, watching as my face conveyed every emotion he had ever made me feel. My arm wrapped around his neck, as I could barely keep myself up anymore.

“Sherlock, you-you’re gonna..m-make me..c-cum…” I stutter out. I am rocking against his hand, chasing what I can’t stop. This only urges him more, as he quickens his pace. Without warning, I cum all over his finger with a cry. But he doesn’t stop. He continues to work my pussy, until I gasp out “I’m...I’m gonna squirt”. He steps out from between my legs, his fingers not stopping. As he steps to the side, he leans in to my ear and finally says something.

“Show me”.

It was all it took for my orgasm to elongate itself, as I squirted on his hand. I couldn’t stop and was shaking, barely able to keep myself up. I almost crumpled backwards before he caught me. Once again, he was between my legs, his hands on my neck and waist. I reached for his painfully hard cock, pulling it from his pants. I started stroking him, causing his eyes to flutter close. I was still coming down from what he had done with just his fingers, but I needed his dick inside me. I looked up at him, and said something that I knew would only boost his ego, and he would probably use against me later.

“Mr. Holmes, I need you inside me, now”.

His eyes shot open, as I looked back at him with lust-blown eyes. My hand was still wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping him. He and his god-complex were completely enamoured with my new take of teasing him. I lined his cock at my entrance, but not before teasing him through my folds. Just that little movement caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin. As I put his tip in my entrance, he searched my eyes once more for the consent he needed. I pushed myself onto him a little, letting him know he could take me. He leaned in, pushing his length all the way into me. I let out a loud gasp, wrapping my arm around his neck once more, my other hand on his back. I was still throbbing from my previous orgasm, and I knew he could feel my warm pulse inside me. He slowly pulled out, and then quickly sheathed himself inside me again. Our pelvises were against each other and his gently movements drove me crazy. I let out a cry of ecstasy, letting my head roll back, exposing my neck. He kissed it gently, and then, lifted me off the counter and back against the wall. All I could do was struggle to remain quiet as he began quick thrusts deep into me, relentlessly hitting my sweet spot. He was open mouthed against my neck, breathing erratically as he continued to hold me up.

“You feel, s-so g-good,” I moaned, urging him to continue. He loved it when I complimented him, he had always been that way. But to be inside me as I told him how much I loved his cock, it was heaven for him. The guttural sounds from his throat proved to me that he felt the same.

“Y/n, I’m not gonna last much longer” he said, as though it would deter me. As he began to remove himself, I grabbed his face to look at me.

“I want you to cum inside, Detective,” I whisper, wrapping my legs tighter around him to prove my point.

His eyes widened searching my face as I was in taking all of him, bouncing on his dick in a penthouse bathroom, loving everything he did. Seeing what he could do to me, looking into my eyes as I stifled my moans, he began to stutter inside of me. I was on the edge too, and when his hot rope of cum shooted inside of me, my own orgasm exploded, milking him of the rest of his cum.

When we had both stilled, frozen with him still inside me, we could hear the party still going and the noise of London below us. He pulled his softening cock from me and as he did, our cum dripped down my thigh. My legs were incredibly weak, as he continued to hold me up. I reached for a hand towel to clean me up, but he beat me to it, wiping up and between my legs, careful not to cause pain from the sensitivity. He picked up my underwear that he had tossed on the ground somewhere, and helped me step back into it. I was still shaky if I bent my legs, but I knew he would hold me up. As we looked at each other, there was something new we both saw. Romance. The sexual chemistry that had been there was a response to the catalyst of romance.

Before we could discuss the aftermath of our actions though, there was a loud banging on the door. Smoothing out my dress just past the door, Sherlock opened it to find John, arms crossed, waiting outside.

“Are you shitting me Sherlock? You look like you just took a hit of something. Did you seriously lose Y/N at this party because you were trying to get hi…”

The door widened to reveal me, just behind Sherlock, makeup slightly down my fae, and both of our hair tousled. I smiled at John, knowing it wasn’t what he had expected. His jaw dropped, “Tha..you were,,,um...has this been long or...?” Dr. Watson stuttered.

“No John, that was the first time and it won’t be the last” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me past him.

“Don’t be too jealous John,” I said with a wink.

John didn’t know what to say except, “Are we done here?”

Sherlock and I walked arm in arm down the hallway, casting back a look at John as if to say “What do you think?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

This was my first oneshot and was it trash? Yeah, maybe. So if you know me, no you don’t :)

Leave suggestions if you’d like, I’m writing smut I can’t find.

#sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock smut #sherlock bbc #benedict cumberbatch #cumberbitches

370 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 3 years

Text

THE SECRET - part two of three

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Virgin!Reader

Words: 5,597

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 @deefigs

@chrisevanshoeeee @desperate-and-broken

@weepingstudentfishhorse @fookingshelby @livinginfantaxy

@atomicsoulcollecto @datewithgianni @mariapaiva13

@hanster1998 @elenavampire21 @nerdy4itall @peakyboyslover

Raising Suspicions

You stumbled across the hallway of the apartment building in a haste just as you threw the jumper over your head.

Whilst you hadn’t discussed with Cillian what you would do now that you both admitted your feelings for each other, it was obvious to you that, ideally, you would need to keep your relationship secret until filming for Season 6 was finished.

The last thing you wanted is to be seen as the young actress who is sleeping her way up the ladder, being involved not only with the lead actor but also one of the producers of the show. You didn’t want any favouritism nor did you want people to get the wrong idea about you and Cillian. You truly and deeply cared for him and you could see yourself with him long term. You were falling in love with him.

You also realised that it wouldn’t look good for Cillian either if he was publicly involved with someone your age, someone he works with. With that being said, you knew that, eventually, if this was going to last, you would have to deal with some backlash because of your age gap. But things were too fresh, too new and too personal to be dealing with this now.

With these thoughts on your mind, you inserted the key into the door of your apartment quietly in the hope that your roommate Emma would not notice that you were gone.

To your disappointment, she was sitting at the kitchen table eating her cereal just as you unlocked the door and walked inside.

‘Good Morning Sunshine’ Emma said with the biggest grin on your face as you walked into the door.

‘Uhm, Good Morning’ you said shyly.

‘So where are you coming from huh?’ she asked, still grinning at you.

‘Just got up early to go for a walk’ you said, your cheeks flushing. You were an actor but you were still terrible at lying.

‘In the same clothes that you were wearing last night? Interesting’ Emma said sheepishly.

‘I just, yeah…put them on quickly this morning’ you said with embarrassment and in a tone that would usually constitute a question. The truth was, you didn’t know how to respond to Emma’s comment.

‘Come here Y/N, have some coffee and tell me about your walk’ she soon said after you were about to walk into your bedroom.

Surprised by her comment, you agreed and sat down next to her.

‘What’s that?’ she asked, looking at you and grinning even more than earlier.

‘What’s what?’ you asked with curiosity. You had no idea what she was talking about.

‘Turn to the side’ she said as she pulled aside your jumper.

‘You are making me nervous Em’ you said just as Emma assessed your neck.

‘I fucking knew it’ she shouted all of a sudden.

‘Knew what?’ you asked.

‘Finn left early last night and Natasha wondered why. I had some ideas and, obviously, I was right going of the giant hickey on your neck’ Emma said, grinning heavily.

Emma’s comment caused you to spit some of your coffee back into your cup. You were shocked. Did she really think that you were sleeping with Finn? This was a disaster.

‘Emma, there is nothing between me and Finn’ you explained. ‘Nothing at all’ you added.

‘Sure, if you say so. you have to go now, you will see you on set?’ Emma said.

‘Sure’ you said laughing. ‘But I am serious Em, there is nothing between us’ you added. You couldn’t believe that Emma thought that you were sleeping with Finn.

Emma ignored your last comment and gave you a wink before she left.

You had quick shower as soon as she left and, shortly thereafter, made your way to set as well.

Your first stop was always the make up artist. You hated wearing a lot of make up but it was part of the job.

As you arrived, you noticed Cillian sit there, shirtless. He was getting his Tommy Shelby tattoos applied.

‘Hi’ Cillian said with a smile as he saw you.

‘Hi’ you responded shyly with a smile.

The silence between you was awkward as you were surrounded by the make up artists.

‘Sorry Cillian, we should probably take Y/N to another room while we get the tattoos on’ the make up artist said, concerned about the inappropriateness about him sitting next to you shirtless.

‘I don’t mind Alison. It’s not like she hasn’t seen me naked before’ he laughed, causing the make up artist to raise her eyebrows in surprise.

‘Oh, she has?’ she asked surprised, looking at you with her eyes full of questions. You shuck your shoulders in response, wondering where Cillian was going with this.

‘I am not sure where your mind was going Alison, but we had a scene together a few weeks ago’ Cillian laughed.

‘Oh right. Of course’ she giggled, her cheeks flushing. Little did she know that you’ve seen so much more than just his bare chest.

After the awkwardness was cleared, you sat down next to Cillian with a grin on your face while the make up artist applied your make up.

Just as the make-up artist finished the foundation on your face, she noticed the bruise on your neck.

‘Well, we have to cover this up too, turn your head to the left please’ she said, giggling, causing to Cillian to laugh.

‘Whoever gave this hickey to you, tell him to be gentler next time. It’s hard to cover up without staining the white blouse’ the make-up artist said, still giggling.

‘I will sure tell him’ you said firmly, looking over at Cillian.

‘I wonder if he will listen, eh’ Cillian said sheepishly putting on his Tommy accent, causing the make-up artist to laugh.

‘Yeah, I wonder’ you said.

It wasn’t long until Cillian’s make up and tattoos were finished and he left you to be with the make-up artist Alison.

‘See you on set Y/N’ he said with a smile just as he left.

‘He was in a good mood. He must be good to work with’ Allison said to you.

‘He is, I enjoy working with’ you said shyly.

‘I am sure you do’ Allison said with a little giggle. Little did you know that Cillian was carrying marks on his body which, in some way, were matching yours and she certainly had her suspicious.

Filming Continues

The scenes that day were uneventful and you got to spend an hour together with Cillian for lunch.

As much as he would have liked you to stay over that night and any other night for this matter of fact, it was impossible to do this without raising suspicions.

Therefore, over the course of another ten days, you only spent a few hours here and there together and, whilst you managed to be intimate with each other, time for it was limited.

You appreciated Cillian’s patience. After more than week, you still haven’t slept with each other and, ideally, you wanted the timing to be right. You didn’t want to simply stay an hour and then having to leave, but you thought about it. You thought about it a lot, every time you were intimate with each other.

Little did you know that the thoughts about him making love to you would heighten and intensify very soon and you would no longer be able to resist despite his willingness to wait.

Cillian and you were in his trailer on set getting ready for your next scene together which was the re-take of the intimate scene between Tommy Shelby and his love interest Yvette.

‘Did I tell you that Emma still thinks that I am sleeping with Finn’ you said quietly.

‘That explains everything’ Cillian laughed, knowing that Emma had been giving Finn some hints concerning you and what you like throughout the last couple of days and Finn asked Cillian if he knew what Emma was on about.

‘I know that Emma has been speaking to Finn’ you laughed.

‘She sure has been. You know, it will be difficult to keep this a secret for another three months Y/N, in particular since you live with Emma. And I really want to spend some more time with you’ Cillian said, just as he leaned in to give you a kiss.

‘I know Cilly, but how bad would it look if we were together on set?’ you asked as your lips drifted apart.

‘I agree. I was just making an observation and I love spending time with you, that’s all’ he said, cupping your face, just as you heard a knock on the trailer.

‘Ready in ten’ the set assistant said.

‘Are you ready to film this scene again?’ he asked, his hands on the sides of both your arms.

You nodded, shyly and nervously.

‘Good. You will be fine. Just relax, alright?’ Cillian said with reassurance before he gave you another kiss.

‘I will try’ you said shyly.

‘Just ignore the cameras and focus on us’ he said. You certainly felt more comfortable this time around. You were familiar with each other’s bodies and touch and you trusted him entirely.

You both walked to set together, each wearing a white robe. The director could tell that you were relaxed and felt reassured by your confidence this time around as he called in the set assistant.

The set was closed and only one set assistant was allowed in. She was quick to take both of your robes and allowed you and Cillian to get into position.

Cillian and you could barely keep a serious face while he climbed on top of you. The awkwardness was gone, but you still felt embarrassed in a different way. You worried that the director would notice the obvious attraction between you.

When the director called action, Cillian’s lips met yours, slowly and passionately. The kiss was not even an act, it was real and it looked real.

You looked into each other’s eyes as you pretended to make love. Of course, the scene was an act, your movements pretend, but the passion between you was real.

Your hands touched his skin comfortably and his lips trailed kisses down your neck, which was clearly not part of the script.

It wasn’t long until Cillian and you completed the scene and the set assistant handed you both a dressing gown.

It took no more than one take and the director got more than he had bargained for. A fair amount of unscripted material.

You stood up, covering yourself with the gown, but you observed that Cillian remained seated, covered by the bed sheets.

‘Are you alright?’ you whispered.

‘Yes, just needing a minute to think about something…uhm…not nice’ he whispered back with a slight laugh.

You giggled and walked over to the director to see whether he got everything that he needed.

‘We got it Y/N. It’s very good. You guys have great chemistry’ the director said proudly.

‘I am glad’ you said before excusing yourself.

Cillian left the set shortly after you. Obviously, he had calmed down.

‘Did this ever happen to you before?’ you giggled quietly as he followed you to the change rooms.

‘Most defiantly not and as much as I like working with you, I am glad that we do not have another scene like this soon’ Cillian said with a laugh.

Filming this scene with him sent shivers down your spine as well, in the most pleasurable way imaginable. You were prepared to go further. You wanted him, for real.

Unfortunately, for you, the following day, Cillian was flying to Dublin for the weekend as filming paused every so often. It was his mother’s birthday and, of course, he had to visit her.

You had scenes on to be filmed at night that day and knew that you wouldn’t get much time with him. Taking things further would need to wait until he comes back.

Just before he left for the airport, you went to see him.

‘I was thinking that I could stay over Sunday evening when you get back?’ you suggested.

‘I would love that. But what about Emma?’ he asked.

‘She’s going out with her sister to some kind of cabaret show. She is visiting from France and staying in a nearby hotel’ you said.

‘It’s date then’ Cillian said before kissing you gently. ‘I will miss you’ he added.

‘I will miss you too’ you said, kissing him again and before saying goodbye.

Making Preparations

You were determined that Sunday was the day and you decided that, on Saturday, you would spend the day shopping for something nice to wear and fill your script for the pill.

You never bothered with contraception because you weren’t in a relationship but, now that things were getting more serious with Cillian, you thought that it be timely to make some arrangements.

Finding some nice lingerie was easy. You went with black lace lingerie and matching hold up net stockings.

After spending an hour at the lingerie shop, you made your way to the pharmacy to fill your script.

There was some wait for filling scripts and, as it was finally your turn, the pharmacist asked you some intrusive questions.

He advised you that, since you have never taken this medication before, you would also need to use condoms for contraception for the first two weeks. Accordingly, the aisle with the condoms was your next stop before check out.

So much to choose from, you thought when you looked at all of the different boxes. Your face was flushing and you were somewhat embarrassed.

You eventually grabbed a box and made your way to the check out and, as if things couldn’t get any more embarrassing, you walked into Emma and her sister.

She greeted you and, of course, noticed what you were carrying in the small red pharmacy shopping basket. A packet of your prescription pill and a box of condoms.

You wanted to sink into the floor right then and there.

‘Looks like you are all set’ Emma laughed noticing the contents of your shopping basked and the lingerie shop bag that you were carrying.

‘I think this has officially become awkward’ you said before you introduced yourself to Emma’s sister.

‘It’s only awkward because you and Finn are both keeping it a secret’ she whispered so that her sister wouldn’t hear.

‘Em, it’s not Finn. I am not seeing Finn’ you said, causing her to ponder. If not Finn, who were you seeing?

Emma decided to let it go and drill you about it another time when you were alone together. It was inappropriate to discuss relations with other cast members when her sister was around.

Emma then asked whether you would like to join her and her sister for dinner late that evening and you agreed.

You met them at a local pub at 5.30pm and had a couple of pints of beer and something to eat.

The beers quickly made their way to your bladder and you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

As you came back, Emma informed you that you had a missed call from Cillian.

‘Oh right, did you pick up?’ you asked shyly.

‘No, why would I pick up your phone?’ Emma asked laughing.

‘Hang on, Cillian as in Cillian Murphy?’ Emma’s sister asked, causing you to nod.

‘Why does he call you on the weekend?’ Emma asked.

‘I don’t know. I will call him back later’ you said, your face beginning to flush again.

Your flushed cheeks soon turned into bright red when Emma’s sister told you that she has a crush on Cillian. This is when the conversation became very awkward.

‘Perhaps Y/N can introduce you’ Emma said jokingly.

‘Oh god, I would probably faint’ her sister said, causing you to become rather quiet.

‘He’s good looking, but he’s also twice your age’ Emma said.

‘Age is just a number’ her sister responded sheepishly as you sat there quietly and uncomfortably just as a text message from Cillian popped up on your phone.

You grabbed your phone quickly before Emma had a chance to read the content of the message preview on your phone and texted back.

‘Text him that you met a nice French lady who you would like to introduce to him’ Emma said sheepishly.

‘Would you guys stop it’ you said somewhat embarrassed.

‘No need to be so offended, we are just joking’ Emma said. ‘It’s almost like you’ve got a crush on him yourself’ she giggled, causing your cheeks to flush again.

‘We are working together’ you said shyly before finishing up your beer.

‘And texting each other on your days off’ Emma said with a grin as she saw another text message pop up on your phone.

‘Yes, about work’ you said.

‘You are easy to tease Y/N. I am just mucking around. He’s twice your age. But then again, according to my sister, age is just a number so you could probably join the back of the queue of women on set who want to get their hand on Mr Murphy’ Emma said laughing.

‘There is a queue?’ you laughed.

‘Oh god yes, I can tell you of at least one other actress and four crew members who want a bit of Tommy Shelby’ Emma laughed.

‘Good to know’ you said, just as another text message popped up.

‘Or you could go straight to the front of the queue’ Emma laughed when she looked at your phone.

After a few more minutes, your food finally arrived and you changed the topic of the conversation.

The evening went fast and, overall, you had a good time with Emma and her sister.

Going all the way

After a good night’s sleep, Sunday had finally arrived and you spent the day reading and rehearsing your scripts, going to the gym and talking to your parents in France.

At 4pm you went to have bath and get ready to see Cillian. You put on some light make up, curled your hair and put on your lingerie.

On top of the lingerie, you wore a simple black cotton wrap dress which comes undone in an instant. Very practical you thought.

Just after Emma had left to meet her sister, you put on your sandal heels and sneaked out of your apartment with a small handbag.

You walked down the corridor towards Cillian’s apartment quietly as you were always very nervous that you could be seen by other crew or cast members.

After nocking on his door, you waited for a minute or two before he opened.

‘Hi’ you said shyly as Cillian let you inside.

‘You are early’ Cillian responded, greeting you with nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. He clearly just stepped out of the shower.

‘Yes, I sneaked out just after Emma left’ you explained before giving Cillian a passionate kiss and putting your small handbag onto the floor.

‘Smart move. Would you like some wine?’ he asked after your lips drifted apart, causing you to nod.

You got rid of your heels while Cillian poured each of you a glass of wine and complimented you on your outfit before excusing himself in order to put on some clothes.

‘Don’t’ you said as Cillian was walking towards the clothes cabinet.

‘Don’t what?’ he chuckled.

‘Don’t bother putting on some clothes’ you said, causing Cillian’s eyebrows to raise.

‘Alright? No clothes then’ he said with some curiosity and, in that moment, you unwrapped your black dress, letting it drop to the floor and revealing your black lace lingerie.

You had never worn anything like this for a man and, whilst you tried hard to look seductive, the expression on your face highlighted your shyness.

Cillian’s chin dropped as he saw you. He was lost for words and simply walked over to you and pressed his lips onto yours for a passionate kiss.

As he kissed you, he brought you against his hard body, his erection trapped between you, and not having looked, but being able to feel it, you gasped.

‘Oh wow, that didn’t take long’ you giggled. ‘I take it that you like what you are seeing Mr Murphy’ you smirked as you ran his hand over his hard cock.

‘I do’ he whispered before pressing his lips back onto his. He was surprised by his reaction on set and now, right here with you.

In his mind, he admitted that, over the past week or so he wanted nothing more than to sleep with you. But, being the gentleman he was, he would never have pressured you into it.

Little did he know that you came over to his place with an intention that night.

‘Cillian?’ you asked nervously as you reached for your bag after you broke the kiss.

‘Yes? Are you alright?’ he asked, noticing your nervousness as you roamed around in your small handbag.

You nodded and took hold of the box of condoms you bought yesterday and handed it to him.

Cillian’s eyes widened as you placed the box into his hands.

‘You know there is no rush with this. I am happy to wait Y/N’ he said reassuringly.

‘I know. But I want you to sleep with me Cillian, please’ you said, causing Cillian to take a deep breath.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked again.

‘I am sure’ you said before pressing your lips onto his again.

In that moment, Cillian picked you up, lifting your feet of the floor and carrying you through the door to his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him with his heel, all while his lips never left yours.

You smiled at him tenderly, nuzzling his chin as you crossed the room.

He laid you down on the bed, being exceedingly careful with you in doing so. It's the care he takes with you that made you feel sure about your decision to take this next step.

You cupped Cillian's cheek as he worked his hands over the back of your bra, unclipping it and taking it off.

While kissing you passionately, your lace panties followed soon after. Both pieces of lingerie soon ended up far on the other side of the room.

‘God you are beautiful’ he whispered as he pulled away his towel, leaving you both bare in front of each other.

Him looking at you like you are the only woman in the world was heady and made you tremble a bit as you scooted into the centre of the mattress. Your cheeks betrayed your feelings, turning pink while you watched him climb right next to you.

His fingertips ran over the skin of your stomach, giving rise to goosebumps. They travelled up and onto your ribs to cup one of your breasts and push it up making it look fuller than it was.

Cillian leaned down and took that nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the rosy peak. It was a slow process and the entire time you felt movement, the air was filled with your breathy groan. You leaned in his direction, so he didn’t have to go as far as he continued to bat the bud of your breast with his tongue.

‘You drive me crazy, you know that?’ Cillian said when he finally stops teasing you.

‘I want you so badly Cillian. Please’ you moaned as he pulled you closer, his cock pressing into your belly.

‘Slow, Y/N. Trust me. You need to take it slow’ he said, knowing that, if he was to proceed directly to the main event, he would hurt you quite a fair bit. Whilst he didn’t expect to have to do any of this again at his age, he was experienced enough to understand how this may play out.

Just as you were sharing another kiss, you put your hand on his bare hip. Though you've wanted this moment, you suddenly were not feeling bold enough to go straight to where you would be sure he wanted your hand to be.

Your blunted nail ran over the protrusion of his hip bone, and Cillian shuddered in response, biting down gently on your shoulder while he trailed kisses down your neck.

At the same time, you trailed your touch over his stomach and up to his chest while his mouth wandered back to your breasts.

The way his lips worked over your chest created a want in you—a want to feel the member that's pulsing against your abdomen and your hand immediately sought it out.

You were light in your touch at first, your fingertips grazing over the veins and ridges of his shaft, as you cherished the noises he made.

He felt warm and his tip was moist from the precum that had already pooled there.

You loved stroking him and, at the same time, every kiss, nip and suck from him on your breasts began to pool in between your legs.

It wasn’t long until Cillian rolled you onto your back making you squeal and giggle breathlessly at the surge of strength. You liked knowing that he can throw you around like this.

In this position, Cillian soon got in between your legs, and you could see the head of his cock near your mound...and then he moved and the tip of him touched your clit making you whimper. His cock barely brushed you and you were so ready just from that small touch.

You ran your hands through his hair and pulled gently at the strands, trying to silently beckon him inside you.

‘Y/N, slow down’ Cillian chuckled before kissing you again gently.

His lips trailed down your neck again and back to your chest, lavishing your breasts with attention. Each nipple is worshiped separately making you mewl and pant.

He was clearly teasing you and you were getting wetter and wetter by the second.

Then both your nipples are left to the cold air. He's moved lower to your stomach, his slight stubble tickling your sensitive skin, and as soon as he realised it made you squirm, he purposefully ran his chin along your abdomen, moving lower still.

Within seconds, his slippery tongue touched your clit and you moaned loudly, trying to scramble back across the bed. It felt almost too good, too intense, just like the last time when he made you come with his tongue and fingers.

Cillian grumbled and pulled you back by your hips. He laid a heavy arm over your stomach to hold you still and lowered his head once more to lick your most private area.

Your eyelids fluttered closed as you could feel his lips suck and pull gently at your folds.

The alternation of a gentle pointed tongue and a broad hard stroke was driving you wild. Your hands gripped the deep navy bedspread, pulling at the fabric to find some outlet for the wave of sensations you was being saddled with.

‘Cillian, fuck…Please you need to stop. I want to cum with you inside of me’ you moaned. You knew that you were going to come soon if he kept this up.

But, there was no need to tell him, he knew by the sound of your moans and the rest of your body language that you were close.

His tongue movements soon slowed down and he lifted his head.

‘You are so inpatient, you know that’ he grinned as he moved up to give you a kiss.

You could taste your juices on his lips as your tongues danced in sync with each other.

Just as your lips drifted apart, he lifted himself up onto his knees and reached for the pack of condoms which he had earlier placed on the bedside table.

You bit your lip in anticipation and watched him put the condom on his hard cock. It must have been one of the sexiest things you’ve ever seen.

Just as he leaned down again and positioned himself in between your legs, you took in a deep breath.

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ he asked as his deep blue eyes looked into yours.

‘Yes, I am sure’ you smiled and, just like this, you could feel the head of his cock against your entrance.

‘Tell me if I hurt you and I will stop, alright?’ Cillian said reassuringly as he began to enter you with his thick cock.

You could feel yourself being stretched by him, slowly, inch by inch and it did hurt, a lot.

‘Oh god, stop, don’t move’ you said as you adjusted to his size and he obliged to your request, holding still with half of his cock buried inside of you.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked concerned and you nodded, pressing against him a little to indicate to him to keep going.

You held your breath as a further inch or two of his length entered you.

He held still for another moment before he pushed more of his length inside of you carefully.

Holding still he looked for cues on your face to see whether you are still in pain.

When you gave him a nod, he knew he could keep going. And just like this, Cillian smiled at you softly and lowered his head.

‘I am sorry’ he said quietly and gently.

‘Don’t be’ you said just as you pressed your lips onto his.

Your lips moved in tandem, the faint taste of yourself still in his mouth as your tongues mingled, and, before you knew it, his hips hit the back of your legs. He was fully inside of you and that feeling you had of being empty is gone along with the pain.

You had adjusted to his size and began to relax. Your body was no longer tense and feeling him like this felt incredibly good.

You squeezed your muscles round him testing how you felt and he inhaled sharply in response.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned at the sensation.

‘What?’ you giggled.

‘You are just very tight’ he responded.

‘I thought that’s a good thing?’ you said.

‘It is. It’s nice and you feel incredible’ he said as his head dropped to your shoulder and you cupped the back of his head, kissing his temple.

Feeling your body being totally relaxed, Cillian knew that he could start moving inside of you now.

He started as a gentle lover, withdrawing from you leaving you trying to chase after him with your hips. Then dipping back inside of you, causing you to moan loudly every time he renters you.

His thrusts soon became firmer and steadier and your body soon went into overdrive.

You felt the need to move so you writhe beneath Cillian’s hard body, your hands roaming as his pace quickens.

His teeth grazed your neck and your body was covered in goosebumps as he closed them and sucked at your skin. There's nothing you can do but to grasp at him, your freshly manicured nails digging into his shoulders as his thrusts come hard and fast.

There are wet noises coming from you as your bodies join, reminding you of his tongue on you minutes before. You wished you could feel both at the same time, his cock and his tongue, and the idea fuels the desire in you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping Cillian from pulling out of you too much because you hate how you feel when he does.

Cillian has let go of his worry that he might hurt you, at least for the time being. He pounded you with reckless abandon, grunting and groaning into your neck. Your eyes squeezed shut as you listen to him, letting his excitement carry you to your orgasm. There's something about the guttural nature of his noises that turned you on enough that when he shifted and his pubic bone brushed your clit, it sent you over the edge with a scream of pleasure.

‘Yes, yes, yes, yes’ you shrieked repeating the word every time he hit deep within you. Your walls closed in around him, trying to usher him to his own orgasm.

‘Fuck, Y/N’ he hissed, his steady thrusts hitting harder than ever, making you squeal.

With a loud shout Cillian entered you one last time and stills. You could feel his cock twitch as he released his seed. His chest heaved with every breath as he collapsed on top of you, unceremoniously sliding from you as he did.

‘Fuck, this was nice’ you said, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘It was, very nice’ he laughed just as he reached down to take off the condom and dispose of it discreetly.

‘Are you feeling alright?’ Cillian asked as he returned from the bathroom.

‘Yes, more than alright. In fact, what do you think about round two?’ you asked.

‘It would be my pleasure’ Cillian smiled before kissing you gently, his hands roaming over your body once again.

‘I think we will need lots of coffee on set tomorrow’ you giggled.

‘Yes, I would say so if you make me keep going all night’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Oh I will make you keep going all night Mr Murphy’ you said with determination.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #smut #cillian murphy x y #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you

312 notes · View notes

helnjk · 3 years

Text

Crazier - F.W.

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

This was written for @vivianweasley ‘s 400 writing challenge! I used the song Crazier (by Taylor Swift) from the Hannah Montana movie hihi. Congrats on the milestone lovely ❤️ I hope you enjoy 🧚🏼‍♀️

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: just fluff! and wedding vibes 💗

A/N: ok but this song is ADORABLE ! it makes me so giddy when I listen to it (& i did, A LOT, especially in the process of writing this)

Flashbacks are italicized

---

Feels like I'm falling and I'm lost in your eyes

There was something special about a war time wedding.

The atmosphere surrounding the Burrow seemed to glow in the morning light. The gentle breeze rustled the surrounding fields and the sun was just peaking across the horizon. Champagne colored rays burst from between the clouds littered in the sky, providing warmth for anyone who found themselves outside. Despite the early hour, the residents (and guests) of the Weasley household were already up, busying themselves with tasks that Molly had assigned them.

You found yourself still wrapped in your fluffy dressing gown, nursing a warm cup of tea in your hands as you directed Fred and George. You three were in charge of making sure the flowers, arches, and chairs were all ready for the upcoming ceremony. A smile couldn’t help but inch its way onto your face as you watched Fred jokingly shove George and cause him to lose his footing for a moment.

The soft laugh that escaped your lips caught his attention and your eyes locked. Brown eyes glimmered with mischief and adoration met yours and you couldn’t help the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach.

“Oi! Be nice to your brother, Fred!” You called out as George once again lost his balance, “We don’t want him losing any other body part!”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N.” He retorted, pretending to look like he wasn’t about to send a jelly-legs jinx his brother’s way, “He’s a big boy, he can handle it!”

You made your way towards the boys who couldn’t stop roughhousing with each other now, “Well regardless, we’ve got to get the flowers and arches up and perfect before your mother comes and has a right fit!”

Slightly amused at how much you reminded them of their mother in that moment, the twins stopped horsing around and actually got their wands out to be as efficient as possible. You were able to get back to peacefully sipping on your tea and telling them where they should put certain flowers and which arch belonged where.

The sun was fully risen when the three of you finished, standing side by side admiring your handiwork.

“Great job team!” George announces, patting both you and Fred on the shoulder before turning on his heel, “I’m gonna go check and see if mom’s made some food! I’m starving!”

Before you could follow him, Fred’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you from behind. Your back connected with his chest in a huff, and he placed his head on your shoulder, “Yes, Freddie?” You giggled.

“Nothing love,�� He kissed the side of your neck, “Just love you, is all.”

Your heart fluttered at the simple words and you practically melted in his arms, “Where’d that come from?”

“The whole atmosphere of today, of the wedding, I dunno” He hummed, “It just made me think of seeing you walk down the aisle in a white dress in the future.”

Turning around in his grasp and wrapping your arms around his neck, your eyes met and it was the most genuine and sincere you had ever seen Fred look. It made your heart stutter and butterflies fill your stomach.

“You’re such a sap, Fred Weasley,” There was no malice in your voice, just adoration for the wonderful man in front of you.

“Only for you darling.”

Bill and Fleur’s wedding was nothing short of magical.

The moment the blushing bride walked down the aisle, the crowd seemed to freeze in awe of her beauty. But nothing could compare to how she glowed the moment she reached the arms of her loving husband.

As the newlyweds shared a loving kiss, your eyes locked with Fred’s and you were struck with the image of him in his best dress robes, pulling you in for a sweet kiss just like the one happening in front of you. When the redhead sent you a cheeky wink from across the room, you had no doubt in your mind that you wanted to marry him one day.

You couldn’t help but reminisce on the years past and how your relationship with the cheeky mischief maker developed.

I watched from a distance as you made life your own

Laughs rang through the crowded hallway as the Weasley twins rushed to get away from Filch. You rolled your eyes at their antics, but a small smirk graced your lips. Being yearmates and housemates with the rambunctious pair for four years now had allowed you to grow used to their mischievous pranks and their witty ideas.

“Oi, watch it Weasley!” You teased, turning to face the boys who nearly knocked you over in their rush to get away from the cranky caretaker.

“Sorry, Y/L/N!” One of them yelled over his shoulder, before the pair of them rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

Despite being in the same year and house as the twins, that was usually the most interaction you would have with them. Nothing against them, but you had your own group of friends and they had theirs. As much as you admired their mischief and wit, that wasn’t really your thing. You preferred to keep to yourself or your little group of friends, not fading into the shadows but not exactly stepping into the spotlight either.

When you were accidentally on the receiving end of their pranks meant for Snape, though, the twins forced themselves into your life.

You were sat on one of the beds in the hospital wing, waiting while Madam Pomfrey puttered around looking for some bruise cream and muttering under her breath about how dangerous the twins could be. You hid your smile behind your hand, it honestly wasn’t all that bad, you just had a bruise on your cheek and one on your shoulder. They were both sore and aching, but you knew it could be fixed in no time.

Before the mediwitch could apply any salve to your exposed shoulder, the twins burst into the hospital wing.

“Y/N!” One of them, you thought maybe George, yelled.

“Oh Merlin, we’re so sorry!” The other twin said as they reached you.

Madam Pomfrey began to protest the twins’ presence, but you were quick to reply, “It’s fine you guys. Madam Pomfrey’s just about to fix me up and I’ll be good as new!”

The rest of the week, the twins didn’t leave you alone. Constantly opening doors and pulling out chairs for you, the pair of them weaseled their way into your daily routine. You could feel them wriggling their way into your heart too, and you knew that there was no going back now.

Every sky was your own kind of blue

And I wanted to know how that would feel

“Y/N?” You turned around to the source of the voice only to be face to face with none other than Fred Weasley.

“Fred,” You breathed, hitching the books in your arms a little higher and tighter, “What’s up? Do you need something?”

The castle was decorated beautifully for the Christmas hols, and more importantly to impress the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang guests you were hosting that year, but you were in a bit of a rush and you couldn’t really stop and chat. The professors had made sure to assign as much schoolwork as possible before the break began, which meant you were scrambling to finish everything on time.

You noticed Fred rock back on his heels and shove his hands in the pockets of his robes, “Are you alright?” You asked.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m brilliant really,” He muttered, his eyes shifting around and his ears tinging pink ever so slightly.

“O-kay,” You said, “Sorry, Fred but I’m rushing to get some coursework finished. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course.” He mumbled as you turned on your heel and rushed away. His shoulders slumped slightly, “Bloody idiot, couldn’t get a word out of your mouth…”

Unknown to you, Fred walked all the way back to the common room muttering under his breath. The Yule Ball was coming up and the only person he wanted to take was you, he just needed to buck up enough courage to actually ask you. Every time he tried, though, he clammed up and nothing could come out of his mouth.

When you climbed through the portrait hole a while later, he was still sat on one of the couches, staring at the fireplace and brainstorming ideas of how he could gather up some of his Gryffindor courage and ask you a simple question. He actually made it a point to write down a few of them on some parchment, but most of them were crossed out.

Sonorus charm during breakfast

Sending her a letter (? possible)

Ask Hermione to ask her for me

He hadn’t noticed that you came in, so when you plopped down on the couch beside him, he almost jumped out of his seat. He looked right suspicious to you, trying to shove the piece of parchment he was holding back into the pocket of his robes. Knowing the kind of mischief he could cause you, you did what any other sane person would do.

“Accio parchment.” You said, pointing your wand at his robes. The paper flew out and into your open palm.

“No, Y/N-” He protested, but you stood up quickly and got out of his grabbing reach.

“What’s this Fred? Haven’t gotten any good ideas to ask someone to the Yule Ball?” You teased after skimming over his messy notes.

At that moment he thanked Merlin and Morgana that he hadn’t actually written down your name. Still, his ears and neck were pink and he could feel his face grow hot as you read over the dumb ideas he wrote down.

“That’s none of your business, don’t you think?” He mumbled, taking the parchment out of your hands and sticking it back safely in his pocket.

“Oh alright,” You smiled, “Just teasing!”

He nodded quickly then proceeded to make his way to the staircase, wanting to just curl up in bed and scream into his pillow. Something stopped him, though. He paused right at the doorway and turned to face you slowly.

“Y/N?” He said.

“Yeah, Fred?” You asked, busy trying to smooth down the disheveled uniform and hair that came from running away from him so quickly a few minutes before. You weren’t paying as much attention to the redhead as you should’ve, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“Do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

His question rang through the empty common room and made you pause what you were doing.

“Sorry, what?” You asked, turning to look at him.

“Erm, I asked if you wanted to go to the Yule Ball with me,” He mumbled, rocking back on his heels.

A slow smile spread across your face, “Of course! I’d love to.”

“Great!” He nearly yelled, “Great, yeah. I can’t wait!”

You stood at the top of the staircase, your gown swishing gently as you made your way to where the rest of the students were waiting. Fred’s hair could easily be spotted above the crowd, so you weaved your way through to him.

When his eyes found yours the world seemed to stop. Blood rushed to his ears and his breath came out in short puffs. His vision seemed to tunnel and the only thing he could see was you. You looked absolutely stunning.

“Wow,” He breathed once you reached him, “I think I’ve just died and gone to heaven. You look phenomenal, Y/N.”

Your heart stuttered at the compliment, “Thanks, Fred. You look great too.”

Fred was nothing short of the perfect date. He held your waist as the two of you entered the Great Hall, held your seat out for you as you reached your table, and took your hand to lead you to the dance floor when it was time for the waltz. The both of you weren’t great dancers, but you stumbled and giggled through the whole thing with smiles on your faces.

When the two of you grew tired of dancing, he gently whispered in your ear, “D’you wanna get out of here?”

“Sure,” You smiled.

In a moment of bravery, you took his hand in yours as the two of you walked leisurely through the snow filled grounds. Heart still beating in your chest, you stole a glance in his direction. To your surprise, he wore a goofy smile on his face and his ears were slightly tinged pink. Instead of letting go, he squeezed your hand and led you to an empty bench.

You sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, taking in the gorgeous decorations made for the ball, but after a while you asked “Knut for your thoughts?”

Fred turned to face you slightly and let out a small puff of breath, “I’ve actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

Your brows furrowed in concern, “What’s up?”

“I fancy the hell out of you, Y/N.” He breathed nervously, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear and staring at the ground.

“Oh Fred, I really fancy you too.” You grinned giddily, a small laugh leaving your lips.

His eyes widened at your statement and his grin seemed to match yours, “What’s so funny then?”

“Nothing,” You shrugged, snaking your arms around his neck, “I’ve just fancied you for so long, I just didn’t think you’d actually feel the same for me.”

Instead of replying, Fred swooped down and pressed a searing kiss on your lips. You gasped slightly, not expecting his lips to be on yours, but soon you melted into his touch. His arms wrapped around your waist before the two of you broke apart.

“That answer your question?” He breathed, going back in to peck your lips again and again until you were giggling and playfully slapping him on the chest.

“You’re really something else, Weasley.”

You lift my feet off the ground

You spin me around

You make me crazier crazier

“D’you wanna get out of here?” A familiar voice asked in your ear as strong arms wrapped around your waist.

“Now where have I heard that before?” You teased, placing a soft peck on Fred’s lips.

The wedding reception was in full swing now, a crowd of redheads filling the tent. You were standing to the side, taking in just how much happiness this event sparked in your life and in so many others’. It was as if the world stopped to celebrate the love that Bill and Fleur clearly felt for each other.

Without answering you, Fred merely took your hand in his and led you out into the dusk. The breeze cooling down your slightly warm skin.

“Care for a dance?” He grinned at you, holding out his hand when you two had reached a relatively empty area in the surrounding field.

“I thought you’d never ask,” You joked, taking his hand and putting your other one on his shoulder.

Gently, the two of you swayed together as the sun finally set beyond the horizon and as the first few stars appeared above you. No music was playing, nor was it needed, as you were wrapped around the love of your life.

He sighed contentedly, “When all this is over and we’ve won the war, I’m going to marry you.”

“Good,” You said confidently, “Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Fred Weasley.”

#vivianweasley400wc #Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley imagines #Fred Weasley fic #Fred Weasley fics #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley x y/n

339 notes · View notes

writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

Text

Blind (Sam Wilson x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: You had to attend one of Sharon’s parties in Madripoor. Which left you no choice but to wear one of her dresses. The one she suggested for you made you incredibly uncomfortable. After all, you were not really happy with the way you looked.

Words: 2,681

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, insecurities, self-esteem issues, struggles with body image, if one of these warnings trigger you please DO NOT read!, take care of yourself <3 you are so damn beautiful!, TFATWS spoilers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated! ❤

“(Y/N)? Can you come over real quick?” you heard Sharon yell from the other room. Following her voice, you entered her bedroom where she was waiting for you.

“What’d you need?” your head tilted to one side. The others were getting ready for the party & you still hoped you could somehow avoid your attendance. Being surrounded by tons of drunk people was not necessarily your favorite activity.

“Found a dress for you.” she pointed to her closet where a beautiful gown was hung up. The colors were not too bright, subtle enough to blend in but still stand out. It was short enough to gain others’ attention but not too short to be mistaken for a cheap chick. Long story shot: it was gorgeous. And that was where the problem began. While the dress itself looked fantastic, you knew that you would not live up to it.

“No.” was all you said. Sharon’s eyebrows perked up.

“No? What do you mean “No.”? You don’t like it?” she was confused because she could imagine you looking flawless while wearing this dress. Yes, she was aware that you were not the biggest fan of getting all dolled up. But then again, the few times she had seen you do that, you were owning everything & anything.

“It’s pretty.” you smiled a little. “Just, not my cup of tea, I guess.” you shrugged, trying to hide the fact that you were lying to her face right now.

“Bullshit.” she scoffed. “I chose this one because I knew you’d love it. I know you better than that, (Y/N).” she eyed you up & down. Sighing loudly, you took a seat on her bed & put your head in your hands in frustration.

“Do I have to attend?” you muttered, silently hoping she would let you ditch the party.

“Please tell me you’re not being serious…” Sharon crossed her arms over her chest, body facing yours as you still somewhat hid yourself.

“What’d you need me for anyway?” you threw your hands up in confusion. “Like, you got Bucky, Zemo. Hell, you got Sam. You won’t need me.”

“Hmm.” she hummed as she observed you more closely now.

“What now?” you questioned exaggeratedly. Standing up, you approached the dress & brushed one of your hands over the material gently.

“I see where the shoe pinches.” Sharon stated & you turned around, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah? Where? ‘Cause I don’t know myself.” you bickered. Why could she not just cut to the chase?

“This is about Sam, isn’t it?” she asked casually & you almost choked on your own spit. Coughing to cover it up, you straightened your back to regain your composure.

“What has a stupid dress to do with Sam?” a dumbfounded expression made its way onto your face. Sharon shook her head & chuckled at your obliviousness.

“You still haven’t told him, huh?” her eyes locked with yours & you hated how your heart skipped a beat just because she called you out on that.

“Haven’t told him what?” you decided to play dumb for a while longer. Sharon rolled her eyes at you & sighed out loudly.

“That you’re in love with him.” she made it sound like a straight up fact. Your eyes focused on your shoes, not being able to face the woman in front of you any longer.

“Love is a pretty strong word.” you chuckled awkwardly. “Besides, a minute ago we were talking about the dress you picked out for me.”

“So you’ll wear the dress?” she smirked at you enthusiastically.

“Really? Did you just say that to get me to agree on that?” your finger pointed to the robe. The only response you got was a simple shrug. Sharon then turned around & left you alone. Alright, message received. You had to start fixing up your appearance. Though you were not sure if your efforts were even worth it. No matter what, you were sure you would feel insecure the moment you put on that dress.

When the struggles with your body started? Well, you could not exactly remember a time when it was not there. Maybe it was because you had always been surrounded by people much prettier than you. More popular than you. More liked than you. Only when you became a part of the Avengers did those feelings disappear a little. As a superhero, nobody cared about your look as long as your abilities were good enough to save the world. Your team did not know about any of this, of course. After all, it was your own mind who played tricks on you. No one but yourself could be blamed. So when you looked in the mirror & saw yourself wearing that beautiful dress? It was not beautiful anymore. Not on you. Not when you were the one who showed it to the world. Or to the people in Madripoor. You knew you should not care about other people’s opinions. But you were your own worst enemy. And your mind told you the exact same things that the others thought. The only thing you noticed was how wrong it all looked. How your body was not good enough. Not for yourself & not for anyone else. And definitely not for Sam. Not that you were into him or anything. Even if you were, he was literally the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. He could have anyone. So why would he settle for someone like you? He deserved so, so much more. So much better.

“(Y/N)?” someone’s knocking brought you back to reality. “Can I come in? It’s Sam.” oh no. Would he laugh at you when he saw you like that? Possibly.

“Um…Just-Just a second.” you yelled & searched through Sharon’s closet in hopes to find some sort of coat to cover yourself up as much as possible. Jogging over to the door, you shakingly raised a hand to the doorknob, twisted it to one side, & opened it with a tiny creak. Peeking out, you found Sam in a black turtleneck. And damn, he was hot. Unfortunately, you were not successful in finding a jacket so you were left in the dress only. Hence why you only opened the door a crack.

“You gonna let me in or…?” Sam teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

“S-Sure, sorry.” pushing the door further open, you turned around right away, too scared to watch his reaction.

“You look gorgeous.” his comment made you stop in your tracks. Sure he was lying. It was simply something you said to co-workers when missions like that were on the agenda. Spinning around, your eyes met his, the smirk replaced by a sheepish smile. Almost like he was uncomfortable talking to you. Of course he was. After all, he just lied to you about your look. But it was nothing new. You were used to it by now. Shaking off the bad thoughts internally, you coughed quickly & continued your conversation.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Wilson.” you winked & were surprised by how well you actually handled this situation.

“Sharon said she picked out a dress for you. Said you weren’t really feelin’ it.” he stated & you raised your eyebrows. God, Sharon could be a pain in the ass sometimes.

“Uh-huh.” you hummed, hoping Sam would drop this topic. But he did not.

“I’d say you slay it.” he came a little closer but stopped when he noticed you taking a step back.

“You’d be the only one.” you mumbled to yourself. It was too quiet for him to understand you which was why he spoke up again.

“What was that?” one of his eyebrows raised but you brushed him off with a wave of your hand.

“Nothing…” you said monotonously. Clearing your throat, you directed the conversation to the upcoming party. “You guys ready?”

“Um.” Sam shot you a curious look but you ignored it. “Yeah, we can head there now.”

“Good, I’ll come in a second.” your back faced him.

“You okay?” something was off about your behavior & Sam could not tell what it was. It was uncommon to see you so shy & uncertain. Usually, whenever you were on missions, you were a badass, not letting anyone tell you what to do. Now, though? It was like a different person was standing in front of him. Someone who was incredibly uncomfortable. Trembling hands you desperately tried to hide by hugging yourself. Failing to keep eye contact. Voice cracking when you talked to him. Something was wrong. And he knew he should let you be for now. Seemed like you needed time to yourself. So he exited the room without another word.

Loud music, people shamelessly grinding on each other without a care in this world. Alcohol, you figured. Alcohol did that to people. Sharon was next to you, in a corner where nobody else decided to head off to. After all, the dancefloor was the main attraction. Your insecurities were acting up. Constantly pulling down your dress to avoid showing too much of your thighs. Sharon noticed but did not comment on it. Your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding your upper body inside the gown. Whatever you were doing, you wanted to hide. Unfortunately, a coat did not go well with your outfit. So that left you with basically no material to cover up. The woman next to you excused herself when she detected a familiar person in the crowd. Nodding at her, you took the chance & made it out of the party only a second later. Heading outside where the cool breeze grounded you a bit. You hated yourself so much right now. You hated your body. You hated your dress. You hated Sharon for choosing an outfit for you. You hated the loud voices in your head that told you that you were not good enough. Not pretty enough. Not lovable. Your appearance was by no means pleasing. You knew that. And this stupid dress underlined every insecurity you had.

A coat was put over your shoulders & you could not help but flinch.

“You’re shaking.” it was Sam who found you out here. Immediately, you calmed down when you noticed that it was only him. The comfort of his jacket brought you warmth. And it gave you an opportunity to hide more of your skin. Win-win situation. Leaning against the cold brick wall, Sam joined you a moment later. Your face did not meet his, though. Wilson would notice something being wrong with you. He knew you too well.

“I’ll head back inside in a minute.” you assured him but he had none of it.

“You’re gonna tell me what’s wrong now?” Sam’s head turned in your direction but you kept your gaze straight forward.

“I’m fine.” it came our harsher than you meant. Closing your eyes, you sighed because Sam did not deserve your rudeness at all.

“Sure thing. And I enjoyed Smiling Tiger’s favorite drink.” he replied sarcastically & managed to lift the corners of your mouth a little. “Talk to me.”

“I’m just being stupid.” shaking your head, you scoffed at yourself. Usually, you were better at hiding such things.

“It ain’t stupid if it bothers you that much.” Sam pointed out. Your head turned to face him & you had a hard time finding the right words.

“Just…” your hands gestured wildly but ended up at the hem of the material hanging by your thighs.

“The dress?” he asked & you nodded. “What about it?”

“Ugh.” you threw your head back. “See, I’m being stupid.” his hand grabbed your wrist gently when you wanted to head back inside.

“No, wait.” his voice was softer than before. “What’s up with the dress? It looks great to me.”

“It is. Great, I mean. Just not on me.” your rambling could not be stopped & before you knew it, you were spilling the beans to Sam. He was taken aback by your declaration.

“Wait…Is this the problem here?” he gestured to your figure & it took everything in you not to break eye contact. “(Y/N), you’re absolutely stunning in that dress.” there was sincerity behind his words but you could not hear it right now. Hugging his jacket a little closer, you hoped Sam would stop staring at your body so intensely.

“Could you stop? Please.” he almost did not hear it but the night in Madripoor was calm. All that could be heard was the muffled beat from the party.

“Who the hell made you think like that?” Sam started growing angry. Not at you but at whoever managed to plant these thoughts into your head. Shrugging, you averted your gaze from him.

“I mean…it’s kinda obvious, isn’t it? Look at all those beautiful people, Sam. I could never compare to them. Never. My body…i-it looks awful, I know that. That’s exactly why I never wear shit like that.” you pointed to your dress, scoffing lowly. “I wish I didn’t look like that. I wish I-“ Sam, being done with whatever you were saying, interrupted you.

“Listen, this is what you’re not gonna do.” he stopped briefly to gain your attention. Only when you looked at him again did he continue. “I don’t know why you see yourself in such a bad light. I don’t know because to me, you’re the most beautiful woman in this damn universe. And it hurts when you talk so bad about yourself. This…” he stepped closer, resting both of his hands on your waist, squeezing lightly. “This is perfect. There’s nothing wrong with you or your body. What can I do to help you see yourself the way I see you?” the last words were whispered. Your eyes widened at Sam’s confession. Sure he was drunk. Why would he tell you all of that?

“Stop that.” you tried pulling away from him but he would not let you. No, he only hugged you closer to his body so your chests were pressing against each other. “Sam, I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” he wasted no time with his response. “When I saw you earlier today in that dress? Damn, I didn’t even know what to say.” he chuckled to himself at the memory & you could not hide the small smile spreading on your face. That was the point where he knew he had you. “But, you know, duties. Couldn’t skip this party. But I wouldn’t have minded skipping it.” Sam winked at you.

“I don’t know what to say. I-I don’t know if I can trust you. Not when it comes to this.” you were completely vulnerable in front of him. Sam then realized that words were not going to change your way of thinking. And he could not change your way of thinking in one night. What he could do, though, was making you feel gorgeous. With simple actions, compliments, looks. And he made it his job to succeed with all of that. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your soft skin delicately. He was slow with his movements, giving you enough time to lean back if you did not want this. But you wanted this. And the look in your eyes was enough confirmation for him to press his lips against your own. The kiss was not what you expected it to be. You always thought that the first kiss you two shared would be passionate or heated. But this one? This one was filled with so much gentleness, so much emotion, so much admiration that had you weak at the knees. Sam smiled into the kiss when he realized you melting into his touch. To him, you really were someone special. To him, you were the only person he focused on in a crowd. You were it for him. Now, he just had to convince you that he was the one for you, too. But it was a challenge he gladly accepted. If it meant that he got to have you, he would do anything.

Published (04/18/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @bibliophilewednesday, @wanniiieeee (thanks for your support <3)

118 notes · View notes

leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 43

Chapter 43

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, heart break and heartache, swearing, drinking soft, smut

Word Count: 12000

You are awoken at 8am by Elise stirring slightly beside you. Knowing she is hungry and this is the last time you will get to feed her before the honeymoon you adjust your top and pull her into your embrace. You have plenty of milk in the fridge ready for your trip, but you want to enjoy this intimate moment with your daughter.

She immediately latches and you lean back against the headboard gently brushing her thin hairs from her forehead you stare down at her. Normally you would be completely mesmerized staring down at her; this huge piece of you, piece of Fred resting in your embrace. Just as you had felt with your three sons; and every morning with Elise up until this point.

Normally you use these quiet moments with your kids to try to determine what traits they have taken from you, what they have taken from Fred, their father, the man you are set to marry today.

But not today.

Today you feel uneasy, anxious, a ball of nerves resting in your gut. Your stomach doing backflips, nausea washing over you. Your entire body gets hot, palms getting clammy; you take deep breaths in through your nose and out your mouth, hoping you can make it through the feeding without puking.

You hear Carlee groan at the light knocking at the door, followed by her footsteps on the tile floor. Making your way out to the living room Allie stumbles out of her room wiping sleep from her eyes. Metal squeaking accompanies Carlee as she rolls the tray into the room. She pulls the lids off as you flop onto the couch as Sarah makes her way to join you.

“Good morning beautiful, can’t wait to see you in eight hours when you finally become my wife. Love you xoxo Fred” Carlee reads from a card that accompanies your breakfast. There is a round of “aww’s” from everyone as their eyes fall to you. You swallow the lump in your throat giving a fake smile that nobody seems to see through, still foggy with pre-coffee haze.

The room quickly gets busy after breakfast, Amalie and Charlotte arriving first. Some girls are getting their makeup done, others, yourself included, still having their hair done. You have a white silk robe slung over your shoulders, while all the girls have a pistachio coloured one. Each embroidered with cursive font on the back.

Maybe it’s the buzz in the room; the giggles and chatter, that nobody notices you have barely touched your first mimosa. Or maybe they think you are trying to take it easy, not wanting to be that bride. The bride who spends her wedding with her head in a toilet bowl. Or maybe they think you are pregnant, given your track record it’s not an unreasonable assumption.

Maybe it’s the excitement of Kathy walking in absolutely glowing, six months in to her pregnancy. Or maybe it’s Elise who spends most of the day being passed around the room from woman to woman. Even as she naps she never sees her bassinet, someone always free to bounce in her arms.

But if someone had of looked a little closer they would have seen how your nose scrunched up and you gagged taking that first sip of your mimosa. If someone had of listened they would have heard, well they would have heard nothing.

They would have noticed how 90% of your responses have been under five words, or how most of your responses are half smiles with a small nod of the head. If anyone had of watched they would have seen how you haven’t held your daughter in almost 5 hours, how you are the only person not to rub Kathy’s stomach in hopes of feeling a kick.

If they had of paid attention they would have noticed that you are constantly picking your nails. Your knee is anxiously tapping against the floor, so much so you are surprised a hole hasn’t developed.

If anyone had of noticed they would have seen the emptiness behind your eyes as you slowly fade further and further back.

But they don’t.

Or maybe they do. But maybe they think you are just nervous or so excited you are caught in your head. Maybe this is how some brides feel how some act.

Uneasy at the thought of walking down the aisle.

Uneasy at the thought of getting married.

“Oh you guys are gorgeous” you say as your bridesmaids walk into your sight in floor length pistachio A-line dresses. The top has a scoop neck with a white lace overlay and a racerback. The bottom is a chiffon skirt complete with white heels and matching earrings. It’s something you gifted them all with as a thank you for standing beside you, being a part of this day with you.

It’s after 2:30 and everyone is getting into their dresses, you the last person. You hand Elise over to Charlotte having just got her into her wedding day outfit. The seamstress did an amazing job and the dress that was too big mere weeks ago fits her perfectly.

Carlee and Allie lead you to an attached room and unzip the bag, both of them gasping at the dress before them. They of course helped pick it out, but they haven’t seen it since then. And there is a pretty big change that nobody including yourself knew about until the first fitting.

“Hey babe” you call out walking into the kitchen setting your purse down on the counter.

“Hey” Fred’s arms wrap around your stomach puling you back against his chest. “How’d it go?” his hand gently rubs over the bump.

“Well bean here decided before my first fitting was the perfect time to pop, so the dress would barely do up around it” you laugh. “My dress fittings going forward will be interesting.”

“I’m sure you still looked gorgeous babe” his warm breath is on the shell of your ear. “Wear track pants for all I care.”

“Funny thing though” you gently rub your hands over his as he hums in response. “It wasn’t the dress I picked out.”

“Hmm that is weird” he mumbles.

“Yeah see I ordered a white dress, the one I tried on today was blush.”

You pull his hands away and turn gently in his arms. Your hands land on his shoulders and his eyes stare down at you.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” you ask quirking an eyebrow.

“No” he shakes his head. “That is super weird.”

“You sure?” you ask seeing him trying to hide a smirk but he just nods in response.

“When I asked them about it they said my fiancé went in and made the change” you explain. “Two days after I ordered it.”

You stare up at him, your gaze getting firmer. Your arms cross over your chest and you take a step backwards until you hit the counter running out of space. Staring into his eyes he is the first to break with a deep sigh.

“Kay. So the girls came down last month and you all went shopping, and that night I facetimed with you.”

“Mhm” you nod.

“You wouldn’t tell me anything about the dress just that you loved it but I could tell you were holding something back. Well Lucas started screaming and you passed the phone to Carlee for a couple minutes. Well I kept pestering them and finally Allie let it slip that she didn’t think you were 100% happy with it.”

Shaking your head slightly Fred continues on, his eyes softening “she said there was this dress in blush and you loved the colour but not the dress. Then you tried on the dress you bought and loved it but it was in white. They said you could get it in blush, but the customization was an additional $5000 so you said no and decided to go with white. She said you tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal but they could tell you were a little upset. When I got back into town I stopped on my way home. The stylist you had was working and remembered very well how you seemed disappointed. She said it took you over thirty minutes to come out of the dressing room. So I pulled my credit card out and paid for the change then and there.”

“Fred that’s very sweet of you, but I was fine with white” you say softly.

He walks forward and pulls you into his chest before he has the chance to see your face. If he had of waited he might have seen through you, that the problem wasn’t the colour of your dress, something much larger kept you locked in that dressing room. Instead your face is pressed into his chest and he continues on, none the wiser.

“You shouldn’t be fine about your wedding dress. And you know I don’t care about money, the dress even in blush was actually much less than I thought it would be. I just want to make sure this is the wedding of your dreams.”

You should have been thrilled at Fred’s surprise. It should have made you feel like the most special girl in the entire world. That you have a fiancé who is willing to stop at nothing to ensure today is exactly as you dreamed it.

Only thing is this isn’t how you dreamt it. How could you?

Instead of feeling butterflies about seeing Fred you have an overwhelming pit in your stomach. No amount of distractions or mental pep talks making it go away.

Slowly Carlee zips the dress up, working on the couple of buttons of the ball gown. Taking a few uneasy breaths staring at yourself in the mirror, you feel tears prick your eyes, just as Allie attaches the vail to your head.

“You look so beautiful” Carlee squeals fixing some of your hair.

“Thanks babe” you reply taking yourself in. The top is lace and beads, dropping into a low V on the front and back. Below the waist blush coloured tulle falls to your feet, trailing a few feet behind you. It’s not a classic ball gown, lacking the puffiness of a princess dress, but still not having a form fitted bottom.

A part of you was worried about the fit, being pregnant the seamstress only had 10 weeks to make the changes. And during that time your body was constantly changing, adjusting to no longer being pregnant. You had no idea what to expect, and this has been a major stress for you.

Finally ready complete with the earrings Charlotte leant you, the pair she wore on her wedding day. You walk over to the window looking out at the 200 guests who are patiently waiting in your seats, sun shining down on them. The clock quickly approaching 4 and everyone is laughing and chatting amongst themselves, every seat full.

You sigh and sniffle back the tears seeing them.

The two empty seats in the front row.

Walking out to the other room joining your other bridesmaids you notice Charlotte has left. Finding her way to Fred, for him to escort her down the aisle. Only Elise and the five bridesmaids left, all eyes falling on you.

“Mommy you look beautiful” you hear your son call. Turning around you see the three of them in matching navy tuxedo’s complete with black bow ties. Fred took you and the kids out a couple months ago to the tailors to pick out the looks for the groomsmen and the boys but you never imagined they would look this adorable.

The dark fabric against his light skin, matching suspenders and hair combed to the side just tugs on your heart strings. A white boutonniere pinned to the outside of his jacket. Fred styled his hair off to the side, his wavy red hair framing his face. You wipe away a stray tear quickly picking him up for a big hug.

“Oh my goodness look at you” you coo pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You are just the most handsome best little man.”

A smile tugs on the edge of his lips and a blush hits his cheeks “thanks mommy.”

“How is daddy doing?” you ask giving him another kiss tickling his side.

“He said I can’t tell you” he giggles making you laugh. You hoped Oliver would divulge some details into how Fred was handling today. If his nerved were getting to him, or if he was calm, like when he is in net on game day.

You wish he hadn’t told him though, you wish Oliver would tell you he is anxious. That he had to pour himself a glass of whiskey to calm down, his leg was tapping anxiously against the wood floor. That he was being pulled in two different directions while trying to play it off. But it appears Fred beat you to the punch, telling your child to stay tight lipped.

“Oh and look at your brothers” you say trying to distract yourself as Mitch stands there, holding each of the twins hands. They have on identical suits to Oliver, hair combed over to the side. “All of you are just so handsome.”

You walk over completely bypassing Mitch and scooping them for a big hug. You press your lips to their foreheads holding your three boys tight. Oliver begins to groan about it being too tight and you release him standing up to be met with Mitch.

“Hey Mitch” you say straightening his bow tie before he wraps his arms around you for a tight hug.

“You look beautiful momma” he says into your ear.

“You look nice too” you smile.

“I look better than nice” he scoffs jokingly. “Is the little lady ready?” he asks looking over to Elise. Wide eyes and smiling in her bassinet dressed in a white dress. It has a lace top and tulle bottom, a large bow tied around it, a white floral headband on her head.

While planning the wedding you tried to find a way to include all of the kids in the day. When you thought you were having a boy you planned on one of the bridesmaids pulling him down the aisle in a wagon. With the surprise of having a girl you switched to a groomsman pulling her down the aisle, and Mitch immediately volunteered to escort her. During the ceremony she will be with Charlotte in the first row but you still wanted to have her be a part of the ceremony.

“Yeah we just have to get her in the wagon” you respond as he walks over picking her up. He grabs a blanket placing it over his crisp suit to protect himself from the potential baby vomit, before pressing her against it. She coos in his arms reaching out to grab his thick brown locks giving them a tight yank.

“Okay” the planner comes into the room scanning around at everyone “Fred is ready and waiting for you.”

“Ready” Carlee comes up wrapping her arms around you for a tight squeeze. You feel yourself tense at the words, fists clenching firmly. Your nails dig harshly into your palms and you take a few uneasy breaths. Unclenching your fists you see the crescent shaped marks you left behind. All day you thought these feelings would go away once it came time to walk down the aisle, but instead bile rises in your throat.

Pulling away she sees some tears in your eyes, your bottom lip beginning to quiver. “Hey don’t cry” she wipes away the tears with her thumbs. Immediately recognizing these aren’t happy tears, they are the tears that often come before a collapse of emotions. Her voice drops to a hushed whisper as her lips find your ear “what’s going on?” she whispers.

She pulls you in tight and an involuntary sob slips from you before you breakdown against her. The room goes quiet only your sobs echoing as her hand tangles into your curls holding you close.

“(Y/N)” she whispers running her other hand up and down your back.

Your chest heaves and you fall apart in her arms “I don’t know if I can do this” you whisper through a deep shuddering breath as Allie comes up to you wrapping her arms around the two of you. Your chest tightens and your breathing gets erratic the room feeling like its crumbling around you.

“What do you mean (Y/N)” they usher you over to the couch your head falling onto Allie’s shoulder, Carlee crouching down in front of you. The silence that fills the air is deafening. You can feel the tension in the room as everyone watches on, waiting to see how everything unfolds.

“You don’t want to marry Fred?” Carlee asks softly squeezing your hands, your body stiffening at her words.

Your eyes stay locked on your feet but you crumble hearing her words, your heart breaking into a million pieces. You become frozen unable to respond, everything around you fading into the background. Taking a deep breath, anxiety brewing low in your gut slowly inching its way up to your surface

You don’t know how long you sit there, your eyes glazed warm tears barreling down your cheeks. Allie gently squeezes your hand and you remain frozen eyes locked on the floor. “What do you need babe? Need to run, we can do that.”

Silence.

Over what feels like the next hour Carlee and Allie try to talk to you. You hear Oliver object while Mitch, Amalie and Sarah usher the kids outside to provide you with privacy. His cries make your stomach churn and your chest tightens but you can do nothing to help calm him down. You barely have control of yourself at this point.

You spend the next ten minutes sobbing against Allie’s shoulder, Carlee constantly dabbing your tears trying to preserve your makeup. You have a tight hold on one of Carlee’s hands and one of Allie’s as they try to encourage you and talk you down. But it’s no use.

Your hands are shaking, blood running cold while the ringing in your ears drowns everything else out. They become inaudible; the only sound you hear is your heart beating through your chest. You feel like you are outside your body watching everything unfold. Stuck in a glass box and no matter how hard you pound your fists against it, it won’t break.

Tears are streaming down your face, and you know nothing will ease them at this point. Biting the inside of your cheek, the taste of copper fills your mouth. Your entire body tenses up “I can’t” you say pushing up from the couch walking away “I can’t do this.”

“(Y/N) you can do this” Carlee says walking up to you.

The blood pounds in your ears. Your heart thudded in your chest. Your hands trembling, feet tingling as you kick your shoes aside. You have to get out. You cry harder, chest growing tighter as bile rises in your throat. Your fists are so tightly bound you expect to draw blood

“No!” you yell stopping her in her tracks “you need to get me out of this.” Turning around to show her the buttons on the back “I can’t breathe you need to get me out of this.”

“Okay okay okay” she fumbles with the buttons, Allie coming to help her. Finally you push it down your body and step out of it standing in just underwear. Immediately you fall to the cool tile floor your dress in a pile a few feet away. Bending your knees and putting your head between them taking a few deep breaths.

You don’t move sitting on the cool floor in your underwear taking deep breaths while your friends silently look on, unsure of what to do next. Seconds feel like minutes, your heart still pounding through your chest. “I need Fred” you whisper so low it’s almost silent.

“What sweetie?” Allie asks your head not lifting from between your legs.

“I need Fred” you repeat and hear her heels click against the floor as the door shuts.

“Wow Frederik” your mom calls walking over to you. She grips your face placing a kiss on your cheek “you look so handsome.”

“Thanks ma” you place a kiss on her cheek pulling back slightly “you look great too.”

She smiles wide “ready?” she asks fixing your sleeve. You can see the tears resting behind her eyes, seeing her first born on his wedding day.

“You have no idea” you laugh holding an arm out for her. “I can’t wait to marry her.”

“Well between you and me, she looks absolutely beautiful” Charlotte says kissing your cheek again. You just smile in response, you have no doubt she is going to be breathtaking. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to get through your vows without breaking down.

Her arm links with yours and you begin the walk down the aisle, past the crowd of onlookers. Scanning around you see friends and family on both sides, team mates from all your years in the NHL scattered around.

You don’t spend much time scanning the faces, mostly looking ahead to your awaiting groomsmen. To the altar where you will finally get everything you’ve ever wanted. The squared off altar with soft coloured cloth draping it, white, red and pink roses mingled in it. The large oversized lanterns, soft coloured flowers littering the edge of the aisle, the oval backed brown chairs.

You had no idea this is how it would look. (Y/N) showed you pictures throughout the entire process, but you mostly helped nudge her when she couldn’t pull the trigger. The colour of flowers, the shape of the twinkiling lights, size of the candles. None of them really mattered to you, so you mostly tried to figure out what way (Y/N) was leaning and encouraged her to choose that. She wasn’t always subtle on what option she preferred, but all you need is her standing across from you and nothing else would matter.

But taking in the décor, all you can see is (Y/N). Everything looks amazing, not that you should be surprised. Kissing her cheek she makes her way to her seat and you finally take your spot at the altar beside your groomsmen. Next are the bridesmaids, your kids and then (Y/N).

You shutter just thinking about how in less than thirty minutes she will be your wife. You have the four most amazing kids, and soon this woman you share everything with will be your wife. You thought your family was complete when Elise was born, but today is the final piece to your forever.

“You ready for this” Auston whispers in your ear and you quickly whisper a yes not even bothering to look towards him. Your eyes stay locked down the aisle waiting for them to appear.

Scanning around the crowd you can see the guests getting antsy in their seats. You didn’t go through how long after you arrived at the altar the bridesmaids would start to walk but you are beginning to think it’s taking a little longer than expected.

Shifting awkwardly on your feet you turn to your watch, over twenty minutes late. While being punctual isn’t always her strong suit when dealing with four kids, today is the one day you can’t imagine she will be late.

And that’s when you see her.

Allie.

Quickly making her way down the aisle.

Too quickly.

That’s when it hits you, you shouldn’t be seeing her. It should be Amalie first. And Allie doesn’t look happy, she looks stressed. You swallow the lump in your throat as she comes up to you, turning you so your back is to the crowd.

“You need to come” she whispers in a hushed but assertive tone. “(Y/N)…” she trails off “(Y/N) needs you. Now.”

Your back stiffens at the firmness in her voice. Before she spoke you knew something was wrong, but hearing her tell you that makes you want to fall apart. Instead you turn saying nothing to nobody and head in the wrong direction, back where you came from minutes ago.

Gasps and whispers fill the crowd, your mom trying to reach out for you but you are gone. Long strides propel you down the aisle, once around the corner and away from the guests you take off running. Past Mitch who is bouncing Elise. Past Amalie who is trying to distract the twins. Past Oliver who cries out for you as Kathy holds him so he can’t chase after you.

Opening the door you don’t know what you expect. But it is not (Y/N) naked on the floor, her dress haphazardly thrown in a pile on the floor. Her head between her legs as she takes deep breaths. Her cries the only thing you hear.

Your stomach churns as you watch the site unfold in front of you. Swallowing back the lump in your throat, your heart breaks into a million pieces. Carlee shooting you a soft half smile before wordlessly slipping out around you.

You hear his dress shoes click on the polished floor. He can feel the pain rolling off you in waves long before he reaches you. Sighing he slides onto the floor beside you crossing his ankles. He doesn’t say anything, watching your chest heave, listening to your strangled sobs. He glances over at you. You can feel his gaze burning into the side of your head but you refuse to meet his eyes.

Too frozen, too afraid of what you might see. What you have caused. You don’t know how long the two of you sit there, but he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t touch you. He sits. Silently. Uncomfortably, Heart breaking as every second ticks on, but he knows you need time.

Finally your tears begin to subside, the walls pulling back from around you. Your knees bent and arms curled around them you take an uneasy breath mustering the strength to stare at Fred who has yet to move.

Your eyes flick to meet his deep brown orbs, they are glazed over, the tears pricking his eyes yet to fall. He stares down at his feet taking some uneasy exhales waiting to see if his life is about to unravel in front of him. His face is a blanket of panic and fear and it bruises your heart.

You see the pain in his eyes, the pain you caused and you immediately crumble yet again. Your head falls onto his shoulder, the touch startling him. He closes his eyes, focusing on the gentle touch before taking a deep breath. Without thinking he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tight to his chest, worried this is the last time. That if he lets go he’ll never get to hold you again.

One hand tightly grips your arm his other gently stroking up your cool skin. You continue to sob against his chest, but relax against him. You feel him exhale because you didn’t recoil from his touch. The silence in the room is ominous certainly loaded with meaning.

You don’t know how long you sit on the floor with him “you still want to be with me?” he hesitantly asks. Hearing him say those words breaks you. It’s not the words themselves, it’s the absolute despair and heart break he tries to hide but even still you hear the fracture in his words.

“Do you actually think that?” you whisper.

“Up until five minutes ago I had no doubts at all. Then Allie comes barreling towards me and I find you sitting in your underwear, your dress in a pile on the floor. Now I don’t know what to think.” The strain in his voice trying not to let it crack tears your heart in two and sends warm tears barreling down your cheeks.

You choke on your tears, pulling your eyes up to meet his. The look on his face nearly kills you, inadequacy, rejection, humiliation. The silence hangs thick in the air, a gentle thumb wipes the tears that have stained your cheeks. You smile lightly at his actions. As he sits there waiting to find out if you are about to break his heart he still is putting you and your needs first.

“Is this a Cody situation?” he whispers.

“What?” you say a little too harshly.

“Your ex”

“I know who Cody is Fred” you groan.

“You once told me you didn’t know why but you couldn’t commit to him that something was missing. When the time came for you to decide you couldn’t do it. Is this” he trails off trying to find the strength, but you don’t know if it’s to ask the question or for the answer. “Is this like that?”

“No. I love you Freddie so much” you whisper unsure if you can use your full voice.

“What’s going on babe” he asks softly thumb gently stroking over your cheek. Your bottom lip trembles as you struggle to find the words before you finally choke out“my parents.”

You watch him exhale the breath he has been holding onto for the past few minutes. His shoulders relaxing slightly but he still keeps you tight to him. His arms had never felt better wrapped around you. Holding you safe.

You have had a pit in your stomach for months, but you tried to push it aside. You have known since you were 12 that you had to do this on your own. You weren’t going to call your mom and facetime her minutes after accepting the proposal. Your dad wouldn’t cry when he saw you for the first time in your dress, your mom wouldn’t watch on during the father daughter dance.

You have been telling yourself it’s normal, that these feelings are to be expected but on the actual day you thought excitement would supersede your anxiety. But now you are wrecked with nerves and you just know you can’t do it. You can’t stand at the altar, with two empty chairs in the front row staring back at you. Seats that shouldn’t be empty, seats where your parents should be sitting.

Neither one of you says anything, Fred allowing you to cry against his smooth suit fabric. He feels your body slowly begin to relax, your sobs becoming less strangled but he doesn’t say anything giving your arm a soft squeeze. The soft thudding of his heart helps to slow yours down, calming you down.

“I’m sorry” you say faintly.

“Don’t apologize, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now” he hums pressing his lips softly to your temple. You melt into his touch and instantly felt all the tension he had been holding escape.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard” you sigh. “I thought I could make it through today, I didn’t expect to feel this way.”

“You didn’t think you’d miss your parents on your wedding day” he laughs lightly.

“I don’t know” you groan. “I thought I would be too busy to think about them, with everything going on. But now all I can think about is them; how they aren’t here.”

“How long has this been going on?” he asks knowing this didn’t start today.

“For a while” you mumble “first happened when I tried on dresses.”

You spent twenty minutes having a breakdown in the dressing room over the fact that your mom wasn’t there. That she didn’t get to be a part of the experience with you. You had long known she wouldn’t be there but that day sitting in the dress you fell apart. You told your friends you spent the time trying on dresses that you instantly knew were no’s and that’s why you were in there for so long. There have been a few times since then, but that was the first moment you truly missed her.

“You want to run” he asks causing you to snort slightly. “We don’t have to get married smuk. We have four kids and two houses. You already are my wife; I don’t need some piece of paper that says that. Just need you.”

“No Fred” you laugh for the first time all day. “I want to marry you, I just…I need a minute to miss my parents.”

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere” your head falls onto his chest listening to the soft beating of his chest. The light thud against your ear slowly soothes you, and for the first time in a while you feel at ease.

Finally you smile at him “I am so happy I have you.”

He leans forward to gently press his lips to yours. The kiss starts soft and hesitant. A kiss that tastes and feels like home making your arms wrap around him as you sink into the kiss. “I love you” he mumbles against your lips as he captures his breathe before returning his lips to yours.

His hand squeezes your arm tightly as he groans against you tongue sliding back inside your mouth. You run your fingers through his hair gently tousling the curls as the kiss becomes more heated. Fred is the first to pull away breathless, lips covered in your lipstick.

“I’m ready now” you say capturing your breath.

“Sure you don’t need another minute” he smirks pulling your face forward for another heated kiss. His tongue slips inside your mouth, your hand gently raking through his scruffy beard.

“So if it’s bad luck to see each other on the wedding day, what do you think kissing is?” he laughs against your lips.

“Let’s go” you rise to your feet pulling him up. Feet firmly planted on the ground you finally feel grounded. He pulls you back into his chest your arms tangling behind his jacket and he presses one last kiss to your forehead. The two of you stand there for a few minutes before you pull back. “You have lipstick all over your face” you tease.

“You’re naked and late to the ceremony” he quips back. “See you down there babe” he presses his lips back to yours before slipping back out the door.

“For years I’ve watched guys stare at their families through the glass, smiling at their wives and doing some pregame ritual with their kids. I never realized just how jealous I was of them until I saw you on the other side.”

You smile at Fred, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair, warm sun shining on you. The pond is your back drop a low chirping of birds and rustling of trees can be heard. Even though you saw Fred not too long ago, walking down the aisle was the first time you managed to take him in. Swathed in smooth navy, his hair slicked back, sun reflecting off his red hair. Everything you could have imagined in life standing a few feet away. Your hands gently resting in his as he recites his vows, you having just finished yours.

“When I saw you there bouncing Oliver in your arms I knew I wanted you there for every game. That I need you to be there every game. Feelings I thought were gone were suddenly awakened seeing you with our son. I knew I could have everything I ever wanted in life all I had to do was yes to love…and get you to agree.”

You roll your eyes and a few members of the wedding party chuckle but he continues on unfazed. “You are so funny and always able to make me laugh. But I don’t love you because you are funny or smart or kind, I love you because you are my best friend. I love how when you smile you get these cute crinkles by the corner of your eyes and the dimples in your cheeks. How when your favourite song comes on you will involuntarily start dancing while you cook dinner or make yourself a tea. That when you are truly happy your face lights up with the purest of radiance.”

You hear some commotion to the side cutting Fred off. You and try to ignore it, Fred clearing his throat when it gets louder. A smirk crosses both your faces glancing to the side to see Noah fussing. Fred opens his mouth but is cut off by a loud shriek followed by a “momma.” In typical fashion Lucas picks up on the fussiness of his twin and begins to squirm joining in the crying.

“They missed their nap today” Fred explains causing everyone to chuckle. Your eyes glance to the side and you see Charlotte and Ernst trying to soothe the two of them before bringing your gaze back to Fred. There is a sparkle in his eye with a wide grin spread across his face as the twins begins to calm down.

Clearing his throat he goes to start again “I can’t imagine my life without you” he starts but is quickly cut off by their cries again.

“One sec” you take a few steps and pull Noah into your arms. As you grab him Lucas is quick to call out “momma” and make an up motion with his fists. Shaking your head you pull him on to your other hip bouncing the two of them they begin to calm down as you return to Freddie. He quickly pulls Lucas from you, his head falling onto his dad’s shoulder relaxing against him.

Placing a quick kiss on his forehead and brushing some of Noah’s stray hairs he curls up on against you. “Okay ready” you smile taking your one free hand to grip his.

“I love that you are an amazing mother” he laughs bringing a hand up to Noah’s cheek brushing away the few tears that fell. “You are a fierce protective mother, and always put the kids first. Almost to a fault sometimes” he glances towards the boys who are standing up at the altar with you, not with their grandparents a few feet away. A large smile spreads across your face but you don’t care. The past few years your lives have been centered around being a family, and having them up there with you for this feels right.

“I had no idea when I met you that you were going to implode my life, but in the most amazing way possible. But now I can’t imagine a day without you. Standing here with you there isn’t a single thing I would change because it all led me to this point. I only went out for a drink and I got a whole lot more than I bargained for.”

He turns his attention to Lucas and places a soft kiss on his forehead. He has since calmed down and is resting against Fred, his eyes getting heavy. Turning back to you he smiles as Noah sleeps against your shoulder and chuckles. “Can’t believe all this happened because two people got drunk.”

“Geez” you laugh rolling your eyes as a few of the guest’s chuckle in response.

“(Y/N)” the officiant says “repeat after me. I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), take you Frederik, to be my husband. I promise I will be faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help, and care for you. I will continue to share my life with you and build our dreams together. I will love you and honour you, and be by your side for the good and the bad times, as long as we live.”

Taking a deep breath you smile at the man standing in front of you. One arm is holding your tired son, the other is holding onto Fred’s free hand “Jeg (Y/N) (Y/L/N) tager dig Frederik. at være min mand.”

He takes a deep sigh hearing you repeat the words back in Danish. It’s something you have been planning and working towards over the last couple months, trying to embrace this part of his life, your children’s life. Charlotte was eager to help you while she was visiting and you have been working on it since then. You sat down with her a few nights ago to repeat it one more time and she told you it was perfect. That you finally got the few words you have been struggling to pronounce.

“Jeg lover, at jeg vil være tro mod dig og være ærlig over for dig; Jeg vil respektere, stole på, hjælpe og passe på dig. Jeg vil fortsætte med at dele mit liv med dig og bygge vores drømme sammen. Jeg vil elske dig og ære dig og være ved din side til gode og dårlige tider, så længe vi lever.”

As soon as you finish he steps forward and his lips gently brushing against yours. It’s a soft and brief kiss but his hand lands on your hip to keep you close. His tongue traces along your lip, as your mouth opens. Before he can slide his tongue in you hear laughter from the guests. But it’s Oliver announcing “daddy is kissing mommy” that makes you laugh into the kiss and pull away.

“You’re ridiculous” you mumble softly and Fred just shrugs it off smiling wide to you.

Your hand trembles slightly sliding the ring on his finger, partially from the excitement that he is now your husband, but also because it’s slightly more difficult with a baby sleeping in your arms. Once it’s finally on his finger he laces his hands with yours and takes a step closer, minimizing the gap. His eyes drop to your lips, but this time he waits for the minister to tell him to kiss you. He glances slightly to his right before back to you, his tongue licking his lips slightly.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your wife...again”

Before he even gets the words out Fred ducks down to bring you in for a kiss. Unlike the last one this is full of passion and heat. He slides his tongue in swiping across the inside of your cheek while his free hand finds the small of your back. You groan into the kiss bringing your free hand up to his beard. Your tongues continue to fight for dominance, and you begin to feel heat hit your cheeks.

You never imagined your wedding day kiss would be so heated. Thinking of all the people staring you chuckle lightly and pull away from him, foreheads still touching. Fred has a wide smile as he closes the gap once again, this time for a soft and brief kiss.

Everyone has wide grins on their faces, laughter filling the room around you. Multiple conversations are happening at every table, Fred chatting with Auston and Mitch while you are sitting, watching people enjoy themselves and having an amazing time. Fred’s chair is right beside yours, one hand resting on the tulle that covers your bottom half, a glass of whiskey in his other hand. Scanning around the room you smile taking in your friends and family, alcohol and laughter coursing through them.

Suddenly you hear a shriek and look out to see Lucas with orange juice staining his white shirt. Charlotte is quickly making work with some napkins to try and clean him, but you know it’s no use, the stain unlikely to come out.

“It’s not a big deal” Fred says into your ear.

“I don’t care" you smile turning your attention to Fred.

“You don’t care?” he repeats almost baffled.

“Why would I?” you move closer and breathe in his cologne, your hand landing on his thigh. “We have kids, they spill things, besides that shirt won’t fit him in a couple months anyways. And I’m married to the most amazing man, we have the most amazing kids. All of our friends and family are here, nothing else matters.”

“Almost everyone” he corrects brushing his lips to your temple. “What would they be doing if they were here?”

Taking a sigh you turn to him with a tear lining your eye. “Dad would always have a beer in his hand, walking around talking to everyone. Be the life of the party, laughing with anyone because if he didn’t he’d break down over his daughter getting married.”

“And your mom" he laughs taking a small sip of whiskey.

“She would always have one of the kids in her hands. You wouldn’t see her once without them. She’d hold Ollie and be out on the dance floor with him, rocking E to sleep, and constantly be playing with the twins to get them to laugh. She’d probably miss the cake cutting or a speech so encapsulated with them.

The only thing she wouldn’t miss is the father daughter dance. She’d watch the whole thing tears rolling down her cheeks.” You laugh slightly pulling back some tears.

“They would have loved you” you turn to Fred smiling.

“Yeah? The guy who got their daughter drunk and pregnant after one night?” he laughs.

“Well maybe not at first” you chuckle. “Dad would have hated you then, been an absolute dick to you. Even once we started dating he still would have been short with you, my mom would have had to talk to him. He reluctantly would have invited you golfing to appease both of us but he’d make it known he was only doing this for us and he wasn’t going to have a good time. Then he would see what I see and the two of you would become best friends.

He’d always have your favourite whiskey in the bar, ready and waiting for you. He’d go golfing and play tennis with you on weekends, tell you that you are barbequing wrong“ you say laughing lightly.

“Wish I got to meet them elskede" his lips gently brush against yours.

“Me too" you turn back to the scene unfolding, curling into his chest as his arm wraps around your shoulder. “Me too.”

“Oh my god that is just the cutest thing ever” Steph says staring onto the dance floor. Turning your attention over you see a few couple scattered around dancing before finding what she is talking about. Fred holding your daughter against his chest and you see his lips moving, him whispering to her as she sleeps in his arm, moving with the beat of the song.

You grin wide looking out, leaning against the bar behind you “I know he makes my ovaries explode” you groan as you feel of wetness go straight to your core.

“Watch it or you’ll make baby number five” she adds and you through your head back laughing.

“No, there will be no baby number five” you laugh. “But when he does shit like that it becomes hard for me to not want another.”

“Just wait until he sees your lingerie later he’ll be saying the same thing” Steph smirks winking at you.

Groaning you turn around to face the bar to order a drink while you continue to talk to her. The lights brighten slightly and you hear the DJ say something about a change of pace before feeling the bass vibrate under your feet.

“What are you ladies talking about” Fred asks as you turn around to find him, Auston and Mitch joining you by the bar.

“You guys having baby number 5” Steph teases and Fred chokes on his drink while Auston’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my god I said there will be no baby number 5” you laugh as Fred pulls you into his side, relaxing his grip. “We were actually talking about your girlfriend Maddie” you look to Auston.

The two of them have barely been dating for 6 months; Fred told you he is actually crazy about her, never having seen him like this with a girl. He told you Auston deleted all his dating apps and hookups phones numbers within weeks of meeting her and Fred thinks she could be someone serious for him.

He waited a bit to introduce her to the team and bring her to a game. She is a little more reserved and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with this part of his life, but this is the first time she has been around a large group of players at once.

“Wondering when it will be your wedding” you deflect some of the attention off you and onto him. His cheeks heat up and he shifts on his feet with a smirk on his face.

“It’s a little soon for that” he says softly but a part of you doesn’t believe it. He has basically been attached to her all day, constantly pulling her onto the dance floor, hand resting on the small of her back.

“Stop teasing him, he’s in love” Mitch teases.

“Fucking hate you guys” he mumbles.

“Elise and the twins are heading to bed, Ollie says he hasn’t had cake yet so he won’t go” Fred whispers in your ear. He grips your hand and pulls you over to the kids to say goodnight and goodbye, not seeing them until you return from the honeymoon.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you today, but you are absolutely breathtaking” he murmurs in your ear pulling you back against his chest. You just spent the last few minutes with Oliver spinning him on the dance floor, his laughter almost louder than the music. The lights have been dimmed; mostly it’s the warm glow from the twinkling lights and candles illuminating the space.

“You might have mentioned it once or twice” you turn your head to glance at him.

“Once or twice” he presses his lips to your temple “I need to up my game.”

Leaning back your head rests against his chest watching Oliver lead Mitch to the treat table to grab another cupcake. “You know for someone who never stopped pestering me about her wedding band, you haven’t even looked at it.”

“Oh” you realize. “I guess nothing really matters except the fact that I’m married to you” you smile.

You raise your hand and turn your attention to examine the rose gold band resting around your finger. There are multiple tiny diamonds evenly spaced around the band, shimmering back at you in the light.

“Oh it’s beautiful” you gasp examining the band, spinning it on your finger. Something about it looks familiar but you can’t place it.

“Mhm” he hums. “Recognize it?”

You stop fidgeting the ring and try to think of the one Charlotte has, maybe he had one designed to be similar to it. But her band is gold, and doesn’t have the number of stones placed on it. And you know it isn’t your grandmothers. Her wedding band is the one her mother managed to keep hidden during WWII, it’s a simple gold band with one small stone. But somehow this ring feels very familiar.

After a few minutes you finally sigh and turn your head back to look at him. There is a few beads of sweat in his hair line, only wearing his dress shirt having discarded everything else a while ago due to the heat. The top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, his chain visible on his hard chest.

“No I don’t” you say eyes trained on his.

“It was your moms” he says softly and you feel tears hit the back of your eyes threatening to spill out.

“What?” you choke out turning around in his embrace.

“Your grandmother offered it to me the day I asked them for permission” he explains, hands resting on the small of your back. You bring your hand back up into your view as you other tangles around his back, grabbing a chunk of his fabric.

“You’re dad had good taste” he says leaning down to press his lips to your forehead and a few stray tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“I can’t believe you-“ you choke on your tears sniffling against him. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Seriously? I was so happy when she offered it to me There was no way I wasn’t going to give you this ring. ” He gently brings a hand to yours lacing his fingers with yours and gently spins the band around your finger with his thumb.

“I wish they were here babe but this ring is a part of them. It represents their love, their marriage and their family. I can’t think of a better wedding band for my wife. Every time you look at it you will think of me and my love for you but also the love they shared.”

Your tears continue to fall as he tightens his arms around you. A slow song has begun to play and he slowly rocks the two of you to the beat, holding both of your hands against his chest. He hums the tune, his lips gently pressed against your forehead.

Standing tangled in his arms you have never felt so at ease. You realize that as long as you have Fred, you have everything you will ever need. Everything in life will be okay, and even if it isn’t somehow everything will sort itself out.

“Why don’t you put me down” you giggle as Fred struggles with the key. It’s not a typical key card it is an actual key and he is fumbling to unlock the door while your arms are wrapped around his neck.

“It’s our wedding night, I’m going to carry you over the threshold” he mumbles finally getting the key in.

“So traditional” you smirk pressing your lips to his neck, sucking soft marks under the collar of his shirt. His bow tie was long discarded and top couple buttons released.

“Be a lot easier if you weren’t distracting me” he groans as you gently nip his skin. You chuckle lightly hearing the door unlock as the heavy wood frame creaks open. Stepping inside he kicks his shoes off and the door softly closes behind him. He carries you into the living room of the honey moon suite and you pull back turning your head.

The low flickering of the candles on every surface capturing your eye. Next you see the countless bouquets of flowers, your favourite flowers, scattered around the room. He lets you take it in for a few minutes before bringing you into the bedroom. There is a selection of chocolate covered strawberries and other fruit with champagne waiting on the dresser. A rose petal heart on the bed and he quickly drops you on it, petals scattering around the white duvet.

“You do all this?” you ask softly.

“It’s the honey moon suite babe, I think they just do this” he smirks.

“Uh-huh. And the flowers? They just knew these are my favourite and brought in easily a dozen bouquets.”

“Thirty one” he corrects crawling over to you. “They did the candles, champagne and stuff but I may have called the florist last week about the flowers. For the record they would like more than a weeks’ notice to fulfill this along with the wedding bouquets, centre pieces and everything else. Might have paid a lot for these” he smirks “but you’re worth it.”

“One bouquet wasn’t enough?”

“Nope” he grins as a hand finds the back of your neck pulling you towards him. His lips brush against yours hooking an arm around your back he slowly drops you to the bed, hovering over you he closes the gap with a wide grin on his lips. You moan against him, tongue tracing along his lower lip your hands find his dress shirt grabbing a fist full of fabric. His jacket and vest being long discarded.

Your hand moves to the front of his shirt, giving it a tug to free it from his dress pants. “Someone’s eager” he groans as your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, slowly releasing them.

“I’m just excited to have sex with my husband” you grin emphasizing the word.

“Husband” he smirks against your lips “I like that.”

He pulls away rising to his knees and takes over the buttons of his shirt. He slowly pops the buttons revealing more skin, your eyes wandering over his bare chest. Dragging the fabric off his arms he discards it in a pile in the corner. Next his belt clanks against the wood floor, and he is off the bed. He pushes his pants down his legs tossing them in the pile of clothes, leaving him in just boxers.

Your eyes rake over his body, taking in every curve of his muscle. Taking a deep breaths your hips voluntarily arch up towards him. He grips your wrist pulling you onto your feet and spins you around “This dress looks amazing on you" he hums in your ear.

“Believe it or not it looks better off" you moan.

“Oh baby I know it does" his hands gently rub up and down your arms. His mouth is gently nipping the skin on your neck, his words sending an electric current straight to your core. His large fingers not in a hurry, slowly popping the button. You feel him fumble around your back struggling to undo the small buttons before dragging the zipper down your back.

His hands find your shoulders, gently pressing the straps down your skin but you step away from him. “I have something” you explain walking to the bags in the corner.

You pull out a small bag and Fred immediately knows what is waiting underneath the white tissue. “Save that for tomorrow” he pulls the handle from you dropping it on the floor.

“But I bought it for tonight” you whine.

“Baby I know you are going to look phenomenal in whatever lingerie is in that bag. But honestly I don’t want to wait for you to get changed only to have to take it off two minutes later, that’s two minutes of me not fucking you.”

He ducks his head down, warm air ghosting over your neck “and baby all I want to do tonight is fuck my wife.”

Hearing him call you that almost makes your knees buckle, heat rapidly building in your core. You too want nothing more than to feel his cock stretching you out. “I’m wearing it tomorrow night” you command.

“Look forward to it” his fingers return to your shoulders pressing the fabric down your body. A mess of blush tulle landing at your feet and you step out of it. Fred bends down to grip the back of your legs but you stop him picking up your dress to hang on the back of a chair “it’s expensive “ you shrug.

Once in front of him you push him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he slowly falls back. You drop to your knees in front of his quirking an eyebrow while your fingers toy with his elastic band. You can see the large bulge tenting his boxers making a fire ignite in your core. As you pull the fabric down he lifts his hips slightly his thick member slapping against his stomach.

Your moth waters staring at his throbbing cock, precum dripping form the tip. “Fuck” he groans as your lips wrap around him, tongue cleaning the sticky liquid from his tip.

Your tongue swipes up the vein on the underside of his shaft and his eyes practically roll into the back of his head. Soon you begin bobbing on him taking more and more each time, your hands gently stroking up his thighs.

You swirl your tongue around him, your nose pressing into his pelvis. Your eyes stay locked on his, watching as his snap shut and he takes a few uneasy breaths. Digging your freshly manicured nails into his thigh his hips buck up, tip resting against the back of your throat.

“Babe” he whispers, unable to use his full voice. Although quiet you hear but you don’t stop continuing to bob up and down on his long member.

“Fuck (Y/N)” he says more firmly as one hand begins to gently massage his balls. “You can’t do that.”

He pushes you off him, saliva dribbling down your chin and a pout crossing your face.

“Why?” you pout “I want to suck my husband’s dick.”

He swallows hard at your bluntness, eye lids fluttering. You shoot him an innocent look, squeezing your breasts together between your arms and batting your eyelids to him. Shaking his head he grips your wrist and pulls you harshly onto the bed.

You land hard on the mattress and he quickly rolls over you spreading your knees with his thick thigh. He manipulates you to raise your hips, pulling the remaining piece of fabric, thin white lace, down your legs. “Because baby I want to do this.”

You gasp loudly as two of his fingers find your folds, gently playing with your entrance. He moans feeling how wet you are, wet and full of need, waiting for him. You smile against his touch and his lips gently press into your temple.

“You’re soaked eh” he smirks sliding his two fingers over your heat, coating them in your juices. Before you can respond they part your folds and sink in. His thumb presses into your clit while his fingers begin to fuck in and out of you at a slowly building pace.

“Fred” your entire body squirms at the feeling and you hear a quiet dark chuckle against your neck. His mouth begins to place warm open mouth kisses all over your neck and chest, before finding your breasts. He licks over the orb before sliding his tongue between the valley of them before sucking on your nipple. You slide your hands over his bicep, your feather like touch making his fingers curl into your G-spot.

“I’m gonna cum” you warn feeling the slow build low in your stomach.

“That’s the whole point” he smirks increasing his pace.

“Not fair” you whine at the fact you couldn’t take him to completion but he isn’t going to stop until you do.

“Want me to stop?” he teases popping his head up to look into your eyes.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your lower lip being pulled through your teeth. In an attempt to answer you only muster a need filled whimper and he just quirks an eyebrow in response continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you, thumb pressing harshly into your clit.

“Good” his lips land on your cheek before finding your collarbone. He nips the skin, dragging his tongue along you “this is my favourite part” he muses.

You tilt your head slightly and he pulls back, dark brown eyes finding yours. He gives you a wink and the coil in your stomach is now tightly bound. A few final thrusts, you chanting his name through breathless pants and it snaps. Pure euphoria floods your veins, toes curling as he slows slightly to draw out your orgasm.

He groans when your nails anchor hard into his back but doesn’t stop, working you through it as warmth spills down his wrist. You’re vision begins to clear, the orgasmic haze lifting. Finally he stops keeping his fingers buried deep inside you but allows your fog to settle.

“I’m so happy I get to do this every day” his lips press to the corner of your mouth “make you fall apart on my fingers,” he places a soft kiss to your jaw slowly takes his finger out of your slick heat. “With my tongue,” he moves to suck on your earlobe and you whimper slightly.

He shifts his weight and his hard member pokes at your entrance. His voice is low and husky and he only pulls away briefly “or around my cock.” A loud gasp tumbles through your lips as he easily slides inside your walls, your juices providing an easy lubricant.

Slowly pulling back he brings his lips to your ears. “The best part though” he growls in your ear “I get to do it with my wife.” His hips snap hitting your cervix in conjunction with his words. Foreheads pressed together and lips ghosting over yours as he begins to rock into you.

A loud groan falls from your lips, they vibrate in your core and your nails scrape along his back, harshly digging into his skin. He adopts a slow and steady rhythm, hitting you deep with each thrust before dragging himself out to do it again. His head drops and he places a soft kiss against your lips. Along your jaw. On your neck. On your breasts.

His mouth is everywhere and you are turning into a mess under him.

Neither of you are in a hurry, relishing in the feeling. It’s not a new experience, you under him, leg wrapped around his waist as he loves you. But tonight it’s different.

Your first time married.

First time with your husband.

And because of that it hits different.

Your hands snake around his neck, tilting his head to pull him closer. His mouth quickly finds yours while you roll your hips up to meet his. He groans at your movements continuing to drive into you a hand finding your breast. He begins to gently massage your orb, rolling the nipple through his fingers his tongue swiping inside your cheeks.

You whimper into his mouth and he buries his hips against yours in response. Each thrust is deep and calculated, as he slowly drags his cock back. He almost pulls out completely but drops back into you, his tip pressing against your cervix.

He has you right where he wants you, teetering on the edge. Your heel digs into his back and you feel his lips curl upwards against you “let go for me baby” he mumbles before bringing you back in for a heated and sloppy kiss.

Soon he pulls back slightly, lips hovering above yours. Grunts and moans fill the room as you both approach your highs.

“Gå videre baby slip. jeg har dig” he coos in your ear (go ahead baby, I got you). Almost if on cue your second orgasm crashes over you. Still reeling from your first it’s intense and your entire body erupts with tiny flames. Limbs are tingling, incoherent sounds spilling from your lips.

He continues to mumble into your ear but you can’t focus on anything. His deep voice fades into the background as you shudder under him. Upon feeling your walls flutter around him Fred begins to feel his release. Giving you a final few thrusts he spills coating your insides with everything he has.

He collapses on you, his head landing on your shoulder. Coming down from your high you can feel some warm cum spilling around his cock and down the inside of your thighs. But the two of you continue to lay there, your fingers gently playing with his hair.

Finally the two of you have partially recaptured your breaths and he pushes himself off of you. Sweat is dripping from his roots glistening on his forehead but instead of pulling away me mumbles into the crook of your neck peppering kisses along your collarbone.

“I love you so much” he smiles. “My wife.”

“That’s a lot of food for the two of us" you laugh as Fred wheels the tray of food to beside the bed. There are plates of bacon and hash browns, scrambled eggs, a gigantic tower of pancakes and a few bowls of fruit.

You take one of the cups of coffee bringing it your lips, the faint hazelnut smell filling the air around you. Before you can take a sip there is a knock on the door.

With a soft grin he presses his lips to your temple and walks away. You sit silently trying to guess who is at the door when suddenly you hear the light pitter patter of Oliver’s feet followed by one of the twins light squeal.

You set your cup down just in time for Oliver to jump on the bed and wrap his arms around your neck as he tells you about his sleepover with Amalie last night. You help Lucas onto the bed when Fred rounds the corner with Noah and Elise tight to his chest. He quickly drops Noah onto your legs.

“My babies" you laugh pulling all three boys in for kisses on their cheeks. Fred sets Elise in the middle of the bed and begins cutting some food for the kids.

“What are you doing here?” you ask tickling Oliver. He squeals with excitement unable to capture his breath.

“We’re having breakfast” Ollie laughs.

“Figured you’d want to see them for a few hours before I whisk you away on our honeymoon. Get in some last minute snuggles" Fred explains as you release your toddler so he can take his breakfast from his dad.

Noah curls into your lap and you rest your chin on his head, holding him tight against your chest. Before you can reply Lucas climbs in beside him and you wrap your other arm around him.

“This is perfect” you say as Noah begins to whine, Lucas invading his space. Elise begins to cry and Oliver is talking a mile a minute about all the fun he had last night.

“This is perfect" Fred jokes setting the plate of food for the twins down and grabbing Elise to try and soothe her. “I can barely hear myself think" he laughs kissing her forehead bouncing her in his arms “it’s chaos.”

“Yeah but it’s our chaos” you smile pressing a soft kiss on both of your twins foreheads.

***

“(Y/N)” you hear Fred softly call out to you. “Were almost there.”

His lips press against your cheek and your eyes slowly flutter open. Reaching out he grasps your hand and helps you sit while you reach out to stretch.

You have no idea how long you’ve been on the plane, having fallen asleep but you are happy to know you will soon be getting off and can properly stretch your legs. You tried to get Fred to tell you where you’re going about twenty times, but he refused any information, not even giving you hints.

“Where are we" you push the blanket off your body as the seat rises back up. Taking the blanket from you he reaches over to grab the sun shade from the window and pulls it up “take a look.”

Excitement washes over you and you eagerly turn your head to look out. You blink a few times unsure if it’s from the sunlight flooding in, or if it’s shock unsure you are actually seeing the skyline through the glass.

“You didn’t” you gasp.

“Mhm" he hums pressing his chest against your back. Warm lips hit your neck for a soft kiss before he pulls back lips ghosting over your ear “you always said you wanted to go here, seemed like the perfect time to do it.”

You manage to pry your eyes and turn your face slightly to meet him “I can’t believe you did this" you say softly. His lips gently brush against yours “I’d do anything for my wife.”

***

Authors Note: This is the final chapter of this series, I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading it, this story started as the first thing i ever wrote. And it slowly evolved into something.

I wish I could commit to keeping it going but I have been struggling with the story the last few chapters (I always had the plan it was the getting pen to paper). So that is why I decided to end it, my original outline only had 31 chapters though so I’m glad I was able to expand on it.

#because two people got drunk #because two people got drunk fic #frederik andersen #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #Freddie Andersen #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #nhl smut #NHL Fic

64 notes · View notes

escapetodreamworld · 3 years

Text

Love is blind

Colette Marchant x Reader

Words 1880

A/n I originaly had a much longer idea in mind for an obsessive Colette fic but I decided to hold off on that idea, if y'all want it maybe I'll get around to writing it sometime this year.

Warnings, obsessive behavior, and maybe a slight controlling behavior. I don't think there's anything else but let me know if I forgot something.

Requested by @simplaif

Taglist ( @medeliadracon )

Max Medici selling his circus to V.A. Vandemere might've been the best thing to ever happen to you. You, your brother Holt, your niece and nephew and the rest of the circus all moved to Dreamland Amusement Park. You know the only reason you're here is because of Dumbo, the flying elephant you and the kids have been taking care of, but you're still happy to be here.

The best thing about moving here was Colette, the beautiful trapeze artist. Ever since you met her, back at the old circus, when she came with Vandemere to see Dumbo, you haven't stopped crushing on her.

You're starting to get the impression she might like you back, there are things she does that make you wonder. Like when you catch her staring at you or when Vandemere showed you to your new rooms and they were next to Colette's and she smirked at you as she passed by, and then now, she kept eye contact with you while she practiced her trapeze.

You and Colette were the only one in the practice tent, You had shooed the kids and Holt off, Vandemere gave the kids passes to go on all the rides, Colette was getting better at riding Dumbo so You and Holt decided the kids and him could run off and have fun before Dumbo's first show, tonight.

You watch as Colette and Dumbo fly around the room once more before landing, Colette hops off Dumbo. Dumbo runs over to you immediately, nearly knocking you over, you kneel down and start petting him. Colette clears her throat, getting your attention, you look up to see her staring at you rather intensely. "What do you think, are we ready for tonight?" Colette asks, never taking her eyes off you.

"The two of you are improving a lot, but I think your bond could be closer." You say, looking at Dumbo then her again, you continue. "Dumbo knows you, but he doesn't have a relationship with you, you're just the lady that rides on his back. There's no friendship between you too." You explain, scratching behind Dumbo's ears while he leans into your side.

Colette huffs. "And how am I supposed to build a closer bond in just a few hours?" The French woman's visibly annoyed that you're critiquing her performance, you roll your eyes. "Come here." You say, gesturing her over. Once she's close enough you grab her hand, pulling her down to kneel beside you, then you guide her hand to the spot on Dumbo's head he loves having scratched.

After a minute of giving dumbo love and affection he rolls over to cuddle closer to Colette, causing her to genuinely smile. As she continues petting Dumbo you take the moment to stare at her, taking in her beauty. She catches you, you snap your head back down to watch Dumbo, hoping she doesn't think you were really staring at her. You start berating yourself for being stupid, but you feel a hand on your knee.

You look up to see her staring intensely at you again, your heart starts beating so loudly your scare she'll hear it. Colette leans in slightly causing you to let out a shaking breath, making Colette smirk and lean closer, she glances down at your lips then back up to look into your eyes. You're so nervous you can't even lean forward to close the distance between you. Just as you feel Colette breath ghost across your lips the doors open, causing you both to pull away quickly.

Vandemere walks in followed by his bodyguard, Vandemere looks at us on the ground and asks. "Why aren't you practicing?" He's clearly annoyed we're not. You clear your throat "Dumbo's been flying all day, he needs to rest before tonight's performance." You say, voice a little shaky. You see Colette smirking in the corner of your eye.

Vandemere nods "Ah yes well, I came to talk to you anyway, about something important. There's going to be a red carpet before tonight's show, a few reporters and photographers, and I want YOU on my arm tonight." Both you and Colette say "what" at the same time, you're shocked and nervous about the idea, Colette's angry.

"Shouldn't your girlfriend accompany you on the red carpet?" You ask, look from Vandemere to Colette. "No, I don't want Colette being seen until Dumbo and her's performance. And I want Dumbo's trainer there." Vandemere says, growing annoyed.

You try once more to be out of this. "My brother is also Dumbo's trainer, so are the kids."

"The kids are too young for these kinds of things, and your brother doesn't have as pretty of a face as you." Vandemere says, trying to be charming. You sigh in defeat, and agree to do it. Vandemere claps his hands together excitedly. "Wonderful, I already have some seamstresses in your room, so let's go get you into a gown for tonight." And quickly ushers you out of the tent.

You spend the next few hours trying on countless dresses and getting your hair and makeup done, until you're finally ready. You're nervous but you're able to get through all the interviews with a smile, "you're almost done" Vandemere whispers to you while you pose for pictures. You start to relax, happy you've gotten through this with nothing to bad happening, but then Vandemere does something stupid, he leans down and kisses you. A short quick peck on the lips, you immediately pull away, and storm off, praying no one took a photo of it.

You go find Holt and the kids in the main tent, backstage getting ready for Dumbo's performance. Luckily Colette's nowhere to be seen, you don't know if you can face her right now, Holt asks if you're okay and you lie saying you are.

The night ends in more chaos, there wasn't a net during the performance, Dumbo slipped and almost caused Colette to fall. Then Dumbo flew out of the tent and found his mother in a wild animal exhibit, and Milly ran off. After finally finding Milly, you start the long processes of walking her to her rooms then walking to yours. Somewhere between finding Dumbo and finding Milly you broke a heel. So you're walking barefoot, once you're finally in your room, you strip off your dress and fall into bed.

You wake to a banging noise coming from somewhere close by, you roll over in bed curling into your blankets, trying to ignore it. After a minute with no signs of the sounds stopping you get up to see where it's coming from and if you can make it stop, you grab a robe tying it tightly around yourself before going to investigate the noise. Upon entering the main lounge area you find out the noise is coming from someone bang on your door, assuming it's Holt, you march angrily to the door, ready to tell him to go away.

You yank the door open, to find a very angry Colette, holding today's newspaper. You can't read the newspaper because of how she's holding it, but you assume it's about her performance and that's why she's mad. Sighing you opening the door wider signaling for her to come in, she does and as soon as you close the door your back is slammed into it. Colette's body pressing yours to the door one hand on the door by your waist the other by your head, you're shocked, unable to comprehend what's happening. Colette's eyes burning with anger and something else, her almost ragged breath hitting your face.

You're a little worried but that doesn't stop the feeling burning in your lower stomach, you start to squirm but don't make an effort to move away. Colette notices this causing her to grin, she pushes herself closer to you and ghosts her lips against yours, never letting your lips touch even when you try closing the distance. "Colette." You whimper, pleading with her. Her grin only grows. "Aww you poor thing, you're so desperate for me." Colette coos, teasing you. causing you to go weak. Colette moves to your neck, her breath hitting it, and you can feel her teeth graze your jaw. You whimper again, causing Colette to chuckle against your throat.

Colette moves closer to your ear. "Just say the magic word." She whispers, seductively. Then continues teasing you. "Please." You gasp, desperately. You're not sure you can take much more of her teasing. Colette wastes no time, moving her hands from the wall to your face and kisses you, pulling you closer to her. You kiss her back immediately, melting into her. You grab onto her shoulders, steading yourself. Colette's tongue slips into your mouth, exploring, dominating. When Colette starts to pull away she bites your bottom lip pulling on it before releasing it and you.

Your gasping for air you didn't know you needed, still on cloud 9 from the kiss. Colette leans back, a grin on her face as she admirers you. Her hands still resting on your face, she caresses your cheeks with her thumbs. Her grin widens, you see on her face that she just had a thought, you start to ask but she beats you to it.

"You seem to have enjoyed this kiss more than yours last night." She says, smugly. And traces your bottom lip with her thumb. You're shocked, you really thought no one had seen it. Colette raises an eyebrow at your stunned expression, then proceeds to pick up the paper she must've dropped when she pushed you against the wall, and read from an article. "...After my talk with V.A. Vandemere and the lovely flying elephant trainer, Miss (Y/l/n). I witnessed a moment between them, a kiss, one that ended with Miss (Y/l/n) storming off…" Colette finishes reading it and looks up at you.

You blush, embarrassed that someone not only saw but wrote about it. "I um.. Did you read the part where it says I stormed off." You say weakly, avoiding eye contact.

"I did." Colette says, annoyed. But somehow you know it's not you she's annoyed at. You chance a look at her, but when you do you're caught in her intense stare, unable to look away. "Please don't be mad, I didn't like it." You say, trying to reassure her.

Colette lightens up on her stare, she comes closer to you again. "I know baby, I just don't like it when people touch things that belong to me." Colette coos, and gently grabs your chin. "You do belong to me, don't you?" Colette asks, her voice low. Almost daring you to say no.

If you weren't so in love with her you might've been able to tell how dangerous this was, might've questioned the tone she used, maybe you would've seen the way she stared at you when you weren't aware. Maybe you'd question why your room is next to hers or why it's so far away from your brother's when you know there's vacant rooms closer. But you're in love, you don't notice any of it.

You look at Colette with so much love and adoration, and tell her what she wanted to hear. "Yes."

#colette marchant x reader #colette marchant #eva green x reader #dumbo 2019

171 notes · View notes

slythergirlimagines · 4 years

Text

Well Why Don’t You?- Zuko x Reader

Summary: You and Zuko constantly dance around each other, and Sokka and Toph have had enough. Fluff, with a tiny bit of angst!! Masterlist

(GIF isn’t mine!) Words: 3,398 Request: yes

**** let me know if I you all want a masterlist!

Well Why Don’t You?

The first party Zuko hosts is a year after the war. It is a “welcome to Fire Nation” party, to honor the new members of one of Zuko’s outreach programs.

One year after the war, and everything is slowly starting to feel normal. Your parents had died before the war began, and having no where else to go, you ended up sticking close to Zuko, your best friend.

Zuko had brought up the idea first, claiming that he had no one left either, and it had really worked out quite well for the both of you. You gave Zuko advice and opinions with an honesty no one else would. Zuko offered you a place of belonging and a deep friendship.

Though you missed your parents and your friends, you had never felt quite so happy as you did with Zuko. You knew a lot of that happiness had to do with your feelings for him.

Zuko had joined your side and won you over first. You believed him before anyone else did, and as time progressed, you slowly started opening up to each other. You often teamed up in battle and just naturally gravitated towards each other. Toph and Sokka had teased you about it relentlessly. You had realized you loved him when Azula struck him with lightning, when you had almost lost him.

Then Zuko had healed and had become Firelord, and you hadn’t said a word to him about your feelings. Now you are really starting to regret it as you watch him dance with Mai. They had broken up a long time ago, but that didn’t make you feel better as you watch him pull her tighter to him and whisper in her ear. Angrily, you slam your finished drink on the table.

“Another.” You demand, and Sokka looks at you with troubled eyes.

“Y/n, you’ve been drinking a lot more than usual, are you sure you can handle another?” He asks you, brows furrowed. You must be really obvious if Sokka was noticing something wrong.

“Obviously it has everything to do with Lover Boy and Mai.” Toph says, inclining her head in the direction of the dance floor. For a blind girl, Toph really does see everything.

“No it doesn’t.” You hiss.

“Ooh you hit a nerve.” Sokka giggles, tipping his drink back. You aim a hard kick to his shin. Sokka chokes on his drink, and you take a little pleasure in his sputtering. Toph pats him a few times on the back, but she’s laughing too hard to really help.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry. I won’t say anything else about your all encompassing love.” Sokka says.

“All encompassing love for who?” Zuko asks, head cocked to the side like a puppy. Mai is there, arm wound tightly through his. She smiles at you, but the expression looks forced on her usually bored face.

“For wine.” You cover smoothly. “I was just about to get another drink and Sokka was teasing me for being an alcoholic. I showed him though.”

You nod at Sokka, who now sits rubbing his shin.

“That’s my girl.” Zuko smiles. “Guys, you all remember Mai?”

Everyone at the table nods, and exchanges pleasantries. Zuko pulls out a chair at the table and seats Mai, and then takes the chair in between you both.

The wine is catching up with you, and your head is fuzzy, even fuzzier with Zuko so close. You want to kiss him, to hold his hand, to be with him. All of that is impossible with Mai next to him. Of course Mai is beautiful, and of course that’s who Zuko would go for. Mai is a badass and she’s controlled. She’d be the perfect match for Zuko and his mood swings.

You stand up too quickly suddenly desperate to get away, and knock over your empty wine glass. You wobble in place before regaining your balance.

“Y/n?” Zuko asks, concern etching his face. “Are you alright?”

“Fine!” You say in a voice that tells everyone you are absolutely not fine. “I’m just off to get some wine! Haha that rhymes.”

Your awkwardness combined with the alcohol has just made a painfully embarrassing moment that you’ll never expunge from your brain.

Sokka bursts into drunken laughter like a child, and Toph rolls her eyes. You barley manage to get yourself out of the party before you start crying.

————————————————-

The next party Zuko hosts, you are prepared to make a move. Toph has taken to giving you weekly pep talks, and she’s bolstered your confidence a lot.

You had picked out the perfect dress, a black gown with a plunging back. The bodice was tight against your figure, and emphasized your curves. You spent all day creating a dramatic makeup look and pinning up your hair. You knew you looked good, hopefully Zuko would see it too.

You take up your usual spot at the table with Toph and Sokka. Katara and Aang were hardly ever at these things, too busy running their academy or fixing the world. Toph and Sokka are a bit more like you, with no where to go.

Toph and Sokka are starting a drinking game, and you’re too zoned out to really listen to the rules. You’re eager to see Zuko, and even more eager to have him see you.

“With the rate she’s going, we’re going to die of alcohol poisoning.” You hear Toph say.

“What?” You ask. Toph smiles sheepishly, and looks to Sokka to say something.

“Well...” Sokka says, and his face says that he is absolutely trying every way to get out of this.

“Are you playing a drinking game about me?!” You demand. Their smiles give it all away, and suddenly you feel rather affronted.

“What are the rules??” You smack your hand down on the table.

“Obviously it has something to do with being the most beautiful girl in the room.” Zuko says, smiling at you. He places a kiss to your cheek, and then sits down. You could literally explode on the spot, but even in your high you don’t miss Sokka and Toph taking a synchronized drink.

So it was about you and Zuko then.

“Thank you.” You tell Zuko, and you can’t help the warmth that colors your tone. Who gave him the right to be so charming? You knew this was his normal diplomatic persona, the one he used to flatter his subjects. You could pretend it was real for a night.

Sokka and Toph drink again, and this time is not subtle at all. Zuko notices, and quirks his eyebrows at them.

“So what are the rules?” He asks, truly perplexed.

“Don’t have any.” Toph says. Zuko rolls his eyes, but leaves them to their own game.

You’re about to ask Zuko to dance, when an advisor comes up to him.

“Lord Zuko, I have someone who would really love to meet you.” The old man says. The person who wants to meet Zuko is clearly the beautiful young woman trying her best to pretend she isn’t watching the exchange.

Zuko notices this too, and smiles at his advisor.

“Of course, give me just a moment.” He says. You’re torn between two feelings. On one hand, you love Zuko’s devotion to his people, but on the other, jealousy is eating at you.

Zuko smiles at you softly.

“You really do look lovely.” He says. “Don’t go anywhere guys, I’ll be right back.”

You watch him walk away, with a heavy heart. It seemed like nothing would truly be enough to capture his attention.

“Drink!” Sokka calls, indicating your wistful glances at Zuko. You drink until your glass is empty.

————————————————

You don’t go to the third party. Every inch of your body hurts, and your head is pounding. You think you might have a fever, but you don’t want to call anyone in to check. You absolutely despise being sick, and sometimes you like to just wallow in your sorrows.

Toph comes in to check on you before the party. She’s dressed in a lovely green gown, and a gold headpiece.

“Toph, you’re gorgeous.” You croak. “Stay away from me though, I’ll get you sick.”

Toph gives you a pitying look.

“You sound awful.” She says.

“I feel it.”

“Do you want me to send somebody in to check on you? No offense, y/n, but you actually look like you could be dying.”

“Thank you Toph, I really wanted to hear that.” You mutter into your pillow.

There is silence for a few seconds as Toph debates what to do.

“Seriously Toph, I’m ok. Go have fun.” Then sitting up, you tease her. “Tell me all about Sokka’s reaction when he sees you in that dress.”

Toph blushes, and hurries away like you expected her too. Content at your privacy, you fall back on your bed to get some sleep.

You had only just fallen into a fitful sleep, when you are awoken by someone stroking your face.

Zuko sits in your bed in his party robes, looking more concerned than you’d ever seen him.

“Zuko?” You croak. Maybe this is a fever dream or a hallucination. There’s no way that Zuko left his party to come sit with you.

“Hey.” He says softly. “Toph told me you were sick. I sent for a healer a few minutes ago.”

He brushes a few sweaty strands of hair out of your face and you groan internally. How could he ever want to be with you after seeing you like this?

“Get away from me, you’re going to get sick!” You protest when you realize that he’s sitting too close.

Zuko rolls his eyes, and moves closer just to spite you.

“I don’t care about any of that, y/n.” He says. He leaves his hand on the side of your face, and his thumb strokes your cheek bone. “You’re really hot.” He says.

You know he doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but in your feverish state his words are funny.

“No you’re the hot one.” You say, giggling. Zuko smiles, but he also looks more concerned than before.

“You’re delirious.” He says. The healer knocks on the door, and Zuko hurries to let him in.

The healer makes him stand away from you, as he gets to work. Zuko paces, watching everything with his amber eyes.

You’ve never really noticed how beautiful his scar is, before right now.

“Thank you, y/n.” He says, and you blush.

You definitely hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“My lord, I think she’ll be ok after some rest. We just need to break the fever.” Zuko winces, and you think that he must be remembering the time he was sick in Ba Sing Se. He had told you about it long ago, about how painful it was.

“Alright.” Zuko says, “Thank you for seeing her. I’ll stay with her.”

“My lord, I am perfectly happy to stay...” the healer trails off at Zuko’s face.

“I’m not leaving her.” Zuko says, tone final. The healer bows his head, and starts instructing Zuko.

“Keep the cloth cold, and keep her under the blankets. I’ll come by to check every few hours. The best thing for her to do is sweat it out.”

You hear the door close, and then Zuko sits beside you on the bed again. You hadn’t realized that you had closed your eyes.

Zuko’s hands replace the healers, and he starts pressing the cold cloth against your forehead.

“What about your party?” You croak.

“More important things for me to be doing.” Zuko says. You are ill, quite possibly delirious, but you could swear you hear some deeper meaning in his words.

——————————————————

The fourth party Sokka and Toph are armwrestling, and you are keeping score. You all are by far the loudest table, and you know that if it wasn’t for your status as war heroes, you would have been kicked out long ago.

Zuko has been floating around tables all night, shaking hands and kissing babies. The people love him, and they see him for the great ruler he is. You’re happy for him, and you’re proud. But you also miss him.

Zuko finds his way over to you all during round 8. Sokka is only up by one point, and the narrow margin has really been a blow to his pride. You’ve decided to call a winner at round 9, so this victory really determines the outcome. You hate how into their stupid game you are.

Toph is just edging out Sokka when Zuko’s hand touches your back. He lets it trail slowly upwards and cup the back of your neck, thumb rubbing in slow circles.

“Who’s winning?” He asks lowly, to not disturb the serious concentration. You’ve never been more turned on in your whole life.

“It’s a toss up right now.” You say, obviously flustered. “If Sokka wins this round, he’s the winner, but if Toph wins we go into sudden death.”

“Mmm.” Zuko says close to your ear. Goosebumps explode down your body, and you fight a shiver. You glance over at him, and you lock eyes.

Is he looking at your lips? Is he leaning closer? Am I?

“Victory!” Toph cries, slamming Sokka’s arm into the table.

Your moment with Zuko is broken as you turn to them.

“That’s a tie. Round 9.” You say. You turn back to Zuko with a smile, and find one mirrored on his face. He looks happy, you think. More content than he has in a long while.

“Y/n?” A cocky voice asks you. You turn to find one of Zuko’s youngest advisors standing there. He is around your age and rather handsome. One of the types that knows it too.

“Dance with me?” He smirks, holding out a hand.

“Sorry.” Zuko says, with faux politeness. He drops his arm around your shoulders and curls you into his side. “We just can’t spare her. She’s our scorekeeper.”

His arm is holding you tight against him, possessively. Your whole body is fuzzy again as you smile at Zuko.

You turn back to his advisor and shrug.

“No one else can do it.” You say by way of explanation.

Zuko doesn’t move his arm the rest of the night, and neither do you.

————————————————-

Sokka and Toph are done with the games. You and Zuko had been dancing around each other for years now and it was really starting to get annoying. They couldn’t even enjoy getting drunk at parties anymore without one of you looking longingly at the other all night.

That’s why they were currently holed up in an unused advising room discussing plans.

“We’ve got to do something, Sokka. It’s not even fun to drink anymore.” Toph cries, slamming a fist on the table.

“Tell me about.” Sokka says. “All they do is drool over each other.”

“You’re the master strategy guy, let’s come up with a plan. There’s got to be something we can do.” Toph taps her foot rapidly against the ground.

Sokka sits in deep thought for a minute, hand rubbing his jaw. His blue eyes are far away as he considers several options.

“Well, jealousy didn’t work either time they were around other people. Zuko was still too chicken when y/n got all dolled up, and aside from locking them up together I just don’t know what will break their stubborn minds.” Sokka groans.

Suddenly, he and Toph both jump up.

“That’s it!” Toph says. “New mission, find a door that locks from the outside and lock those idiots up.”

————————————————

The fifth party Zuko hosts, you rewear the black gown. You liked it, and Zuko had called you beautiful when you wore it. Maybe tonight it could be your lucky charm.

It’s Zuko’s birthday, and you had managed to get Aang and Katara here as a surprise, and they were going to stay the entire weekend. Iroh was also going to come stay, and you had planned a smaller private party for tomorrow. You knew Zuko would be thrilled to spend some seeing his friends, and actually getting to spend some time with them.

You were just finishing spraying yourself with perfume, when Toph comes barreling into your room.

“Y/n, quick it’s Zuko!” You are in instant worry mode as you follow her out.

“What’s happened Toph? Is he alright?” You question.

Toph leads you through the winding corridors, and into a back part of the palace.

“Toph!” You demand as you come to a stop in front of a door you’ve never seen.

Sokka stands there, dressed in his finest blue party outfit. Toph is in her usual green.

“You guys? What’s going on. Where’s Zuko? Is he alright?” You question.

“He will be.” Toph says from behind you. Sokka opens up the door, and before you can ask anything else, Toph shoves you inside and the door slams shut.

Instead of falling onto the ground, something warm and hard catches you. Arms wrap around you to steady you, and you can instantly tell it’s Zuko.

“Zuko? What’s going on?” You ask him. “Are you ok? Toph said-”

“They did the same to me.” He chuckles. Your eyes are adjusting to the darkness, and you can just make out his smile. “I think we’re being set up.”

“Oh.” You say, as calmly as possible.

“Yep! And you’re not coming out until you talk about your feelings.” Toph says. “Gonna be weird to have a birthday party with no birthday boy. So you better make it quick.”

Zuko still has his arms around you, and you find that you haven’t moved yours either. You’re so close that you can feel his body heat.

“Zuko.” You whisper, softly. “I’m sorry they’re ruining your birthday.”

You can’t say that you feel that badly about having some alone time with Zuko, but you feel the need to share it all the same.

“Don’t be.” He whispers back, head lowering. “This is exactly where I want to be anyways.”

Your face breaks out into a grin as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Yeah?” You ask.

“Yeah.” His lips are on yours immediately after, and there’s no more time for talking.

Zuko pulls you as close as he can, pressing hot kisses down your neck and to your collarbone.

“This is my favorite dress.” He says, running a hand over it appreciatively. “I always thought about how I’d tear it off of you.” He growls and then brings his lips back to yours.

In between passionate kisses you manage to respond.

“Then why don’t you?”

The invitation seems to be all he needs, because his hands are suddenly everywhere. They leave warm tingling trails wherever they touch, and you think you might be in heaven. Zuko’s hands deftly find the zipper, and he’s got it halfway down when the door is thrown open.

You and Zuko blink guiltily into the bright light of the hallway, and you can just make out the horror on Toph and Sokka’s faces.

“I did not think it would work this well.” Toph says, thoughtfully.

Sokka simply looks disgusted at the whole thing, and shudders.

“This room is occupied.” Zuko says, winking at you. He closes the door with a well aimed kick and you all are alone again.

“Hi.” You whisper, smile too wide for your face.

“Hi.” Zuko says. He leans down and kisses you again, a little less hungry than before. He takes his time, really exploring your mouth with his tongue.

You’ve never loved him as much as you do right now, in this tiny closet.

“Zuko.” You say, pulling back from the kiss. “I love you.”

Zuko pulls your face up to look into his eyes.

“I love you too. So much.” He says, and then he kisses you again and again.

“We better go.” You say, almost sadly. “People are going to start missing you.”

“I don’t care.” He growls, nipping at your lips.

“I have a suggestion.” You say, coyly. You stand on your tip toes to whisper in his ear. “Why don’t we make an appearance, and if you’re really good, we’ll sneak away and finish what we started.”

Maybe Zuko hugs his friends and promises to see them tomorrow. Maybe you stay at the party for all of ten minutes. Maybe Zuko all but carries you away. And maybe, for years to come, you and Zuko find yourselves in the habit of getting stuck in tight spaces.

A/n: Wow two in one night! I hope you enjoyed reading this story! I’m going to try to get through as many requests as I can this weekend, so keep an eye out. If you want to request something, please do! My asks and inbox are always open! I hope I tagged everyone who asked, but if I didn’t, please let me know and I’ll add you! As always you can find my work under the tag slythergirlimagines!

Taglist: @galacticamidala @a-random-queer-kid @taeeemin @realimbo @samsmultifandomblogs

@fire1ordzuzu @shortmexicangirl

456 notes · View notes