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#shows up to a fight in a wedding dress
foileadeux · 1 year
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points. white lady!
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regallibellbright · 3 months
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Sora: I want to experience this world’s weddings, too!
I was about to make a joke that she already did but you know, the dance party didn’t really have cake. And there was a lot of dancing and TECHNICALLY those aren’t their fancier dresses than usual, so it really was more of a hybrid I suppose.
I’m just saying Mashiro, you have an opportunity here!
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mejomonster · 9 months
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I haven't seen the new episodes yet. But from what I can gather this show is wish fulfillment and I'm quite excited that from what I've heard so far the plot is going like. The Most ideal way i would have hoped for it to be written
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catknives · 8 months
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soulmate-esque au where steve is born with a psychic power where the first time he touches someone who will be important to him, he gets flashes of future moments between the two of them.
the first time he touches nancy he sees flashes of the two of them happy together, then an argument. the flashes clearly jump ahead a few years, as if they maybe stopped talking for a while, but they still look happy in that future. he thinks that maybe they get in a big fight, but clearly they’re still in each others lives for a long, long time.
when he ruffles dustin’s hair looking for dart, he gets flashes of laughter and jokes and a long life of brotherhood. he sees secret handshakes and little plastic dice and being invited to thanksgiving.
they’re not always positive. the first time he brushes past billy in the locker room, he’s filled with flashes of anger and dread and pain, and none of what he sees makes sense in the moment.
on his first day at scoops, he shakes robin’s hands and gets his biggest vision yet. there’s so much love and happiness and joy there, including a montage in which they seem to work a frankly absurd variety of jobs. but he gets stuck on an image of himself in a tux, robin in a wedding dress, and thinks this must be my future wife.
it isn’t until much later, on a dirty bathroom floor, that he realizes he was standing behind robin in that vision of her in a wedding dress, and, oh, he’s her best man.
almost a year later, when eddie pushes him against a wall with a broken bottle to his neck, steve is almost convinced he’s passed out because of the sheer number of visions running through his head. some of the flashes are innocent happy moments—sharing a joint, laughing at a movie, making dinner—but there’s also flashes of pleasure and adoration and devotion on a level that steve’s never felt before.
he sees flashes of waking up next to eddie in bed, walking a dog around a lake hand in hand, watching eddie perform on stage, a soft kiss to a bare shoulder.
and suddenly steve yearns, thinks he’s never fully known the meaning of that word until now. he tries to play it cool, doesn’t want to freak eddie out, but he’s seen so many visions of them holding hands that his fingers itch with the need to interlace with eddie’s.
when eddie is attacked by demobats, everyone tries to get steve and dustin to leave eddie’s body behind, because clearly eddie is dead. and steve can’t explain to them why he knows that can’t be true, he just stubbornly insists and drags eddie to a hospital as he promises again and again to dustin that eddie is going to make it.
everyone but steve is shocked when the doctors find the barest hint of a pulse.
it’s touch and go at first, but they put eddie in a medically induced coma and he starts to improve. steve is there the whole time. he tells the unconscious eddie about all of the things they still have to do together, about how he knows eddie will live a long, happy life because he’s seen eddie with gray in his hair, laugh lines etched into his face, as they welcome their first grandchild to the world.
and eddie makes it, and when he was up eddie tells steve he heard everything. steve steels himself for denial or disbelief, but eddie tells him that it’s the first thing he’s heard in the past month that actually makes sense.
they share their first kiss right there in the hospital room, and even though steve has seen this moment before, it still takes his breath away.
as he grows older, steve notices more and more of the moments he’s seen in visions as they happen. he happily discovers that there’s so much the visions don’t show, and there’s still so much to see.
because yes, just like he saw all those years ago, he stands behind robin at her wedding, and it’s as moving and special as it always looked. but he also gives max away at her and lucas’s wedding, and he helps dustin propose to suzie, and he helps erica pick out her wedding dress. and, of course, robin stands behind steve at his own wedding.
steve lives a long happy life, with so many memories—seen and unseen—to look forward to.
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the fallout show is great because lucy gearing up to fight raiders in a wedding dress perfectly encapsulates what all fallout players do at some point
show up in a goofy outfit and your pipboy and bash heads in
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eufezco · 5 months
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IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE BABY — FINNICKODAIR x FEM!READER
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IN WHICH Finnick is interviewed by Caesar.
Caesar Flickerman greeted Finnick. Everyone in the audience stood up from their seats when he entered the stage, men chanted his name and women shouted for his attention. ―Thank you, thank you so much. ―Finnick smiled and waved to everyone in the audience who had welcomed him so warmly. He was especially handsome that night. The white shirt that your stylist had put on him had a large opening in the front that went down to almost his belly button, somewhat revealing for the Capitol but not vulgar at all. The bottom part of his outfit was a skirt that reached his ankles and the necklaces made with materials from your district rested on his neck.
From your place backstage you could appreciate how Finnick's green eyes shone under the spotlights. They also had that lovely glow when he saw you arrive at the back of the stage with your outfit. He wanted to tell you how pretty you looked, he wanted to help you relax before going on stage with Caesar. Finnick knew how uncomfortable those questions, often more private than they should be, made you. But it had been days since the last time you talked to him and you didn't have a Capitol camera on you, and that didn't seem to be the moment when you were going to speak to him again.
You had taken the opportunity to look him up and down when he was not aware of your presence. When his eyes fell on you, you acted unbothered, with a serious face and not paying attention to him for even a second. He was by your side with his hands behind his back minutes before he went onto the stage, you were paying attention to the tributes being interviewed but Finnick was looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
―You look great. ―Finnick dared to say. He didn't receive an answer from you, not even a look of disdain or a grimace. He pressed his lips together, defeated, and stretched the muscles in his back as the host introduced him.
You stayed backstage, watching him with your arms crossed and with still no expression on your face. The trip to the Capitol had been tense. Very tense on your part. Your hostile attitude hadn't made things easy for Finnick, your mentor Mags, and even yourself. From the instant your names came out through your stay at the tribute's hotel up to that moment, you had been avoiding Finnick. Mags had tried to bring you back to him, but you were pissed off. Pissed off with the Capitol for putting you in that arena with the love of your life, with Finnick for pretending that everything was okay, and with yourself for not letting them kill you in your first games.
You looked over your shoulder when a girl covered in white fabric appeared in your visual field. She came closer to you, accompanied by Effie who was constantly arranging her dress, and you rolled your eyes. ―A wedding dress. Of course. ―You pointed out loud enough for the girl to hear you.
You and that girl liked each other. Very similar personalities, highly challenging to the Capitol, difficult to contain for President Snow. You wouldn't say you two had a friendship but your encounters during training definitely could have been the beginning of one if you were not just a few days away from fighting for your lives in the games. Again.
―Snow made me wear it. ―Katniss confessed.
You looked up and down at her and nodded.― Make him pay for it.
―Finnick, it is an honor to have you here with us tonight. ― They both sat and Caesar grabbed both FInnick's hands, shaking them. The smile remained on Finnick's lips. ―We thought we would never have you back but we're so glad that we get to see you once again. Let's show some love to Finnick Odair, ladies and gentlemen!
At that moment the people in the audience applauded and shouted for him again. Your eyes were still focused on your partner, the boy was very relaxed, grateful for all the affection he was receiving from the people of the Capitol. Gosh, he was so good at pretending. At that moment your dress started to feel too tight and your stomach grumbled; was it because of the crappy food you'd been at the Capitol? Because of how tight was the dress around your body? Or was it because of how disgusted you felt with the person Finnick became when a Capitol camera focused on him? Even if you knew he was faking it, you didn't like seeing him like that.
―The pleasure is always mine, Caesar.
―Finnick, we saw that dramatic reaping day that took place on District 4 and I think I speak for everyone when I say that we lived it very intensely. ―Murmurs could be heard in the audience agreeing with the host. Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. ―First, your name comes out, ten years after your first victory, and then her name comes out and we can see how your expression changes completely. Look, look at that. ―The images from that day played on the big screens for the people to watch and you had to look away.
You swallowed and tensed your back, all the memories of that day came to your head unwantedly. His name. Your heart feeling heavy inside your chest. Him walking to the center of the stage with a smile on his lips. His eyes on you telling you to not worry. Your name. Gasps from the people of District 4. Finnick's jaw clenching. It became difficult for him to breathe. You walking to the center of the stage next to him with no smile on your lips. You shook hands. People clapped for you two.
―Are you okay? ―Katniss placed her hand on one of your shoulders and you nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing.
―People in District 4 love drama. ―A familiar voice said behind you two. The girl in her tree and wood-inspired outfit approached you and Katniss with a devilish smile on her lips. ―It's already done, girl. Your name came out already and you are here. Get yourself together. Snow is watching, don't embarrass yourself like this.
The relationship you had with Johanna Mason was complicated. You did consider her somewhat of a friend but sometimes she was too much. Finnick definitely knew how to deal with her better than you.
―We have been informed that she has expressly asked not to be here with you tonight, how does that make you feel?
―Well, it makes me feel sad, obviously. As everybody knows, she is a very special person to me and I think we could handle this situation much better together. Things have been difficult but I strongly believe we are the best allies, in and out of the arena. The love I have for her keeps me from having any negative feelings about her not wanting to sit with me here tonight, Caesar. I just hope that you all can enjoy her later.
―I'm sure we will have the best time with her. She's lovely, very lovely. ―People clapped. They loved Finnick. You could see it on their faces every time the boy opened his mouth, how they nodded their heads to everything he said, empathizing with him. In a way you were grateful for it, when the time came you knew they would rather save him. ―As you said, she'll be sitting here later and we know she's back there now, probably watching us and waiting for her moment. Finnick, is there anything you'd like to say to her?
Finnick nodded and acted for a few seconds as if he was looking for the words. As if he hadn't had this planned. ―My love, you have my heart. All eternity. And if I― if I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.
―Oh, Finnick! You're going to make our hearts melt! When did you became such a loverboy?
―I've always been, Caesar.
They all laughed.
Johanna giggled and you ran your hand over your face. Maybe Johanna was right and the people of District Four were too dramatic. Katniss was left speechless, he and his ability to make those things sound natural surprised her. He reminded her of Peeta.
―Forgive me but I must ask because I know people are dying to know. Is everything okay between you two? Has the Quarter Quell been the cause of any couple crises?
People in the audience laughed again and so did Finnick. He didn't find it funny but laughed anyway which made you angrier.―No, that has not happened, no. We have had our ups and downs since that day, as you said, there have been a lot of emotions going on. We had plans for the future but we are trying to get through it.
―I'm sorry, Finnick, but you can't leave us like this. Plans for the future? Tell us more about that.
―We were trying for a baby.
That statement hit you like a big wave and swept you breathlessly to the seashore. You heard Johanna chuckling and Katniss, on the other hand, was as surprised and as confused as you were. People in the audience got up from their seats, demanding more information, asking if there was a wedding planned, and questioning if you were already pregnant.
―No we weren't. ―You mumbled getting the attention of the two girls who were with you. ―¡No we weren't! ― You tried to go on stage, angry like the sea during a storm and about to do something foolish that you would regret later and for which Mags would tell you off. Johanna was quick to step in front of you to prevent that from happening. Effie let out a little scream, seeing the scandal that was being made.
―Johanna, move.
The girl shook her head at you, smirking. That smirk. She knew all along.
―I'm not asking, Johanna. Move.
Johanna, again, shook her head at you.
―¡Ladies! Let's mind our manners and let's calm down. Please. ―Effie intervened, aware that there were people from the Capitol backstage watching. Katniss was behind you, silently rooting for Johanna to let you out.
―He knows Snow is not canceling the games. He's saving you.
―I do not need him to save me. I do not want him to save me. If I have come all this way, it is to save him.
Johanna smiled, mocking you. ―Well, he has gone ahead of you.
―What's going on? ―Peeta appeared and Effie jumped on his neck to fix the white suit he was wearing.
―She's pregnant. ―Johanna answered him.
―I'm not.
―Congratulations. ―The boy from District 12 told you sincerely.
―¡I'm not pregnant!
Seeing that people in the audience were not calming down after Finnick's news, Caesar mumbled something in the boy's ear. Unlike the rest of the tributes who had already been interviewed and who remained on the stage, Finnick was sent to the back of it.
―Girl from 4, you're next. ―A man from the staff announced and grabbed your arm. Caesar was distracting the audience while they got you ready to go out.
―Get off of me. I'm not going anywhere. ―You shook your body and managed to free yourself from the grip that was eager to push you on stage. You were still face to face with Johanna who had not taken a single step backwards and waiting for Finnick.
He said goodbye to the audience and walked to where you were. He knew what was waiting for him there, an even angrier you who would not understand why he had done that. All this time moving around the Capitol and with much of your relationship on display for everyone, and you still hadn't learned how to play the real game.
―I'll go for her. I'm ready. ―Peeta offered instead of you. The man seemed satisfied and before walking Peeta to the stage, he warned you that you would go after the boy from District 12 whether you liked it or you didn't.
Finnick walked with his head down. You were no longer interested in Johanna but you were surprised by the way she and Finnick shared a look of complicity when he passed by your side. His eyes never landed on you but they did on his friend. You turned around and walked after him. Your fists were close, your jaw was tight.
You pushed him by his shoulders, now it was Finnick who seemed unbothered. You pushed him again, trying to get any reaction but instead, he continued walking as if you did not affect it. He was calmed, he did what he thought it needed to be done. People in the Capitol will have mercy on you, you will have plenty of sponsors and you will make it out alive. But you didn't want that. You wanted him to be the last one standing, you had already discussed that with Mags. The woman assured you that she'd do anything in her power to get Finnick out alive. ―Why did you do that to me?! Who gave you the right to do that?! Finnick I swear to God if you don't speak to me right now!
―Oh, now you want to talk, don't you? What happens if now I don't feel like it? Would you like that? Would you like me ignoring you like you've been doing with me for the past days?
By the way his eyes looked at you and the way he had said it, practically spitting the words in your face, you knew he had been holding it in for days. You shook your head. ―It's not the same.
―Oh but it is. Trust me. You just don't want to see it. And for your information, it was Mags. She gave me the right.―He turned around and answered your previous question. ―Oh, you didn't expect that answer? Did you think you were the only one she’s made promises to?
You clenched your jaw. You did think that. Whatever she'd promised Finnick would contradict the promises she had made to you, so she was clearly fooling one of you two. And you knew it wasn't Finnick.
―You made me look weak!
―But you're not so why do you care? Right now you have more than half of those people in the palm of your hand. You could need the stupidest thing in the arena and they would send it to you without even thinking about it. They will make you the victor.
―I didn't want that! I didn't want that and you don't even care!
―You're right, I don't.
―You fucker. ―You threw yourself against his chest, hitting him with your small hands compared to his body. He was still standing on the spot while you beat him with tears in your eyes out of anger.
―Come on come on, give him a break. ―Haymitch, who had gone backstage to be with Katniss when he saw Peeta come out on stage, tried to separate you from Finnick by grabbing you around your waist.
―Why don't you save all that anger for when we're in the arena? It'll be better.
―Finnick! ―Effie said, shocked.
―I fucking hate you. ― You mumbled. While Haymitch managed to get you away from Finnick, your hands grabbed his shirt, he wasn't going to get off that easy, not after that comment. Your body shook against District 12's mentor.
―I could really use a helping hand right now, you know? ―Haymitch struggled to hold you. Katniss and Johanna freed Finnick from your grip and he left. You tried to go after him but obviously, you couldn't do anything against three people. As you continued to fight to free yourself from his grasp, Peeta's voice sounded louder over the loudspeakers, getting your attention.
If it weren't for the baby.
You looked at Katniss and she looked at you, still trying to process what had just come out of Peeta's mouth and trying to find a way of not going into that stage and choke him to death. Now you were going to be the one who was going to hold her down.
―Well, congratulations to you two. You are going to be amazing moms if you make it out of this one alive.
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sansaorgana · 8 days
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— QUICK LEARNERS
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — You're sent to Giedi Prime to marry your distant cousin and become the new Na-Baroness. However, your new husband seems to ignore you. You come up with an idea how to gain his attention and you ask one of the Generals from your homeworld to teach you how to wield a blade.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — While writing my fanfic "Forbidden Fruit" I was inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures creating the Reader's homeworld. This time I was inspired by my own Slavic culture but as usual – the physical appearance of the Reader is not described. 💘 I really like coming up with all these new planets! Also, I decided it makes sense for the world inspired by the Slavic culture to be related to The Harkonnens, therefore Feyd and Reader are cousins but they're distantly related (as most noble people are, I guess).
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood – the Reader is injured, slight incest (distant cousins), SMUT, oral, hints of breeding kink, Feyd is a bit ooc in my opinion but... so what? he's cute 🤪
WORD COUNT — 7,840
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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QUICK LEARNERS
Your father, The Tsar, worked very hard to make this union happen. Baron Harkonnen had wanted his heir and nephew to marry one of The Emperor’s daughters but your father’s relentless visits, letters and arguments finally worked.
Your family was cousins with The Harkonnen bloodline. You were more used to their culture and you shared similar values. Of course your house was not as important as The Harkonnens. In fact, your planet was under The Harkonnen rule and your father only governed it in their name although his family had been allowed to keep their titles.
Giedi Prime was an industrial planet without any nature which was the opposite of your homeworld. Morana was mostly dark green – a never ending forest full of valuable resources. Sadly, most of them were being transported to Giedi Prime for nearly nothing in return. Your father was determined for The Baron to make it up to your people for all the centuries of colonisation and turn their Grand Duchess into The Harkonnen Baroness.
Your home world was supplying Giedi Prime with important raw materials and fearsome warriors that were known all over the galaxy as ruthless beasts in combat. Growing up in such an environment, you would easily adapt to Giedi Prime even though it lacked the greenery completely. You would make a much better Baroness than any spoiled daughter of The Emperor. Those were your father’s arguments at least.
So, you were sent to Giedi Prime with dozens of heavy wooden chests filled with your most precious belongings. Everything you loved, everything that was defining you – it had to fit in these boxes. You couldn’t take the forests with you nor the rivers, the songs of your people, the smile of your mother, the warmth of the fireplace. All you could take were the dresses and jewels, a few books. And a burden of the realisation how big responsibility had been placed upon your shoulders. To make your parents proud and to become a good na-baroness… and then Baroness. To give heirs.
You knew Feyd-Rautha from all the official ceremonies. You had never talked to him before, he would only greet you with a head nod and a word cousin in his low, raspy voice that was sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. A few times before you had watched him fight in the arena. He was an incredible warrior but his combats were for show which was disappointing for a woman from Morana – a planet known for its art of warfare.
You weren’t scared of him and you weren’t taken aback by his Harkonnen nature nor looks. You were used to The Harkonnens visiting your planet or you visiting theirs with your parents for official events and celebrations. However, you were not pleased with this union either. He didn’t seem to be a pleasant man and you didn’t like the responsibility that came with this marriage.
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Your wedding was grand. Every governor and leader of the planet under The Harkonnen rule was invited. Your dress was white, decorated with traditional red embroidery of your people. On your head there was a flower crown made out of flowers that grew on Morana. But seeing all the people around you, you quickly realised it probably was the last time you’d wear something white. No one around was wearing any colour except for black. The only white clothes you could see were the ones of the servants.
The wedding party was a display of power and violence but it wouldn’t make a girl from your planet flinch. You focused on the cake and tried to remember all the advice your mother had given to you regarding your upcoming wedding night.
She had been straightforward with you. A strong Tsarina like her would never hesitate or shy away. She had told you it would be best if you took your husband from behind so you wouldn’t have to look into his face. And she had made it clear that the marriage should be consummated. No matter how much it would hurt.
You observed your new husband with the corner of your eye but he looked the same as his wedding kiss had felt – bored and unimpressed. Cold.
Around midnight he stood up to leave the table without making any announcements. Panicked, you glanced at your new servant girls and they nodded at you. So, you stood up as well and gathered the fabric of your dress to lift it gently and follow him down the corridor.
He walked fast, you could barely catch up. His silence was heavy between you two. After all, you were his wife now – you were supposed to share a life together – but he chose to treat you like air instead.
When the doors leading to his chambers opened, you entered them right after your new husband. That was when he turned around as if he was surprised. He looked you up and down with contempt and you realised that he had not been pleased with this union.
Perhaps because you were not The Emperor’s daughter. Perhaps he wasn’t finding you attractive enough.
“Cousin,” he drawled as usual.
“Can you not call me that anymore?” You sighed.
“Wife,” you swore there was a shadow of a smirk on his face. But he didn’t say anything else and you felt helpless. You didn’t know how to talk to him.
You tried to remember your mother’s words. You weren’t there to have conversations with him.
“Husband,” you nodded your head at him and he watched with tilted head as you approached his huge black bed and bent over.
“What are you doing?” He snorted at you.
You couldn’t understand. You furrowed your brows and turned your head around. His sneering facial expression embarrassed you but you stayed in your position.
“Would you rather take me the other way around? I didn’t expect you to be a romantic,” you commented.
“I do not intend to take you at all,” Feyd shook his head. “I’m going to sleep. You do whatever,” he shrugged his arms and began to undress.
Clumsily, you straightened yourself and smoothed out the wrinkles of your dress. Once he was in his underwear, without a word he got under the cover and ignored you completely.
You watched in shock as he began to drift off to the land of dreams. You had no idea what to do. Not only you had humiliated yourself but also you had failed to consummate the marriage.
You crouched down and picked up all the pieces of clothing he had scattered all over the floor. Like a dutiful wife already, you folded them neatly and put them away on the chair by his desk. Then you removed the flower crown and your dress, thanking all the gods above that it was not a complicated piece because you had no idea how you’d manage to do that without your servants’ help. You tried to be as quiet as possible while doing that, not wanting to wake Feyd up and cause his anger.
Once you were in your linen underdress, you decided to just join him in the huge bed and go to sleep as well. You were laying as far away from him as possible as you didn’t want to bother him. It was no easy task because he decided to sleep right in the middle of it like he had forgotten already that he was married now and had to share.
You didn’t understand the situation you had found yourself in. When the small orb of light by your bedside turned off, you stared at the pitch black room as all your limbs tensed. You could hear Feyd’s soft snores and the distant sounds of your wedding party, the firework splashes of white ink in the night sky. Yet, you – the bride and the new na-baroness – just laid on the edge of the bed, feeling lonely and humiliated.
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The weeks passed and you remained Feyd’s wife by name only. You shared your chambers with him but he was always awake before you and in the evening you were often asleep by the time he would join you in bed. There were days when you weren’t seeing each other at all. He was busy with training for his fights but also with fucking his concubines. You had found out about all of them from your servant girls.
The most important ones were three scary cannibalistic harpies. The servants were terrified of them because they could end up as their meal any time. There were also other women in your husband’s life but they were regular pleasure slaves and they did not matter as much. With his harpies he seemed to share some sort of bond.
Of course. Now it made sense. How could you even compare to such creatures? However, you did not even want to. You just hoped Feyd would finally be reminded – by his uncle or the medic – that he had to fulfil his duties and produce an heir.
You felt lonely and rejected. Your duties were not many and you quickly realised that most of them were nothing but a show off – just like your husband’s fights in the arena. It was probably because you were a woman and a new addition to the family. The Baron would never actually put you in charge of anything important.
Your only companions were your servant girls. You grew attached to them but they were no friends. Not because you thought of them as less but because of their timid personality. They were terrified of The Harkonnens and they were often trembling whenever they spotted your annoyance. Such a dynamic could not be a base of any real valuable friendship although your heart was breaking for them.
They had told you that the people of Giedi Prime liked you. You were not like your husband nor his family and you looked different because of the pigment of your skin and your hair. Sometimes, to your new black Harkonnen attire you would add a jewellery or a flower crown from your homeworld. The citizens of Giedi Prime adored the additional splash of colour. You expected Feyd-Rautha to scold you for that but he did not. He seemed not to care at all about you and what you were doing.
You had tried everything to get his attention and to seduce him. You had started to wear more revealing nightgowns to bed but he would ignore you. You had walked in on him taking a bath on purpose – pretending it was an accident. He hadn’t even flinched.
You had been asking him things about Giedi Prime and The Harkonnen history – making a fool of yourself by asking him things you had known already. He would always answer dryly and coldly; often without even sparing you a glance. Then he would go on ignoring you.
You had tried to move closer to him in bed at night. Pretending to be asleep, you had adjusted your body slowly until your arms touched. He had woken up abruptly and moved aside, stealing the blanket.
You nearly gave up but there was one more idea you were thinking of. You wanted to share a hobby with your husband. It could not be sex because he refused to touch you, which made you feel so unattractive that you didn’t even think of flirting with other men to cause his jealousy. His coldness made you feel ugly.
No, his other hobby was the blade. And you sometimes observed his training and they always made you miss your home. On Morana the warriors would train day and night just like him. You had often observed them with your father as he was telling you grand stories. And perhaps you were a lady, but you were your people’s Grand Duchess and you could handle the blade. Or so you had thought.
You found one of the generals of The Harkonnen army who was from your homeworld. He looked different than the rest of them because of his longer, braided hair and tattoos on his face that were your people’s spiritual symbols. However, like most of the important military men from your homeworld, he had been sent to Giedi Prime as a young boy to be trained under The Harkonnens. Such boys were some sort of a tribute in the same way your natural resources were. All those years spent under the black sun had made his natural skin colour a few tones paler. But amongst The Harkonnens he still looked the healthiest.
“General Bohumil,” you approached him one day after watching him train with other soldiers. He was putting his blades away as he raised an eyebrow at you, surprised to see you wandering around this part of the fortress.
“Slava, Grand Duchess (Y/L/N), My Lady Na-Baroness Harkonnen,” he bowed down. You smiled at the way he addressed you as it brought back memories of your homeworld where you were addressed as The Grand Duchess and with the word slava meaning glory as a sign of respect. “What brings you here, My Lady?” He asked.
“I was wondering if you’d find some time for me,” you began, a little nervously as he furrowed his brows. “To train me.”
“Train you, na-baroness?” General Bohumil hesitated. He was looking for the right words not to insult you in any way. “What does your husband think of such an idea, my Lady?”
“I don’t think he cares about what I do at all,” you admitted honestly with a shrug of your arms.
He would never say that but you could see the look in his eyes. You were a spoiled and bored noble lady in his eyes and he’d only waste his precious time on you. However, he was too scared to say no. Your question was not a proposition, it was an order. That was the way of The Harkonnens and that was the way your father ruled on Morana, too.
“Alright, my Lady. I can show you the basics,” he nodded. “We can start tomorrow. But I warn you, you can bruise or hurt yourself,” he added.
“I am aware. Those are natural consequences of a combat, General,” you smiled at him. “I will find you tomorrow,” you nodded and went back to your quarters, very pleased with yourself.
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The first week of your trainings – and you had insisted on them to take place every day – General Bohumil was only making you stretch and prepare your muscles for the future extortion. No whining about it could cause him to change his mind. But after the first week you were finally given a blade to hold. It was quite short and light but very swift to move. The handle was wooden with your people’s spiritual symbols engraved on it. It was a traditional blade of the warriors from Morana and it made you feel so proud to be your father’s daughter to wield it. It made you feel as if you were home again.
You were also given a shield-like device that would protect you from hurting yourself or from the General hurting you in an accident. You noticed that he wore one, too, probably expecting you to clumsily wave the blade around and possibly cause some harm with it.
“Repeat the sentences after me, my Lady,” General Bohumil began to show you the most basic moves. You nearly rolled your eyes at how easy they seemed to be but you wanted to be an obedient student and to prove to him that you were not just a bored noble lady. You really wanted to learn.
He corrected your posture and the position of your feet as he lifted your elbow and then he began to show you the same sequence again.
You had many traits that were considered to be positive – it could be seen now, in the way you obediently performed your duties, how you desperately tried to make your marriage work and keep both of the families proud. You cared about your family’s honour, you were aware of the responsibility placed upon you. You would never sabotage your union; you were loyal and proud.
But you also possessed some traits that were considered to be negative – impatience was one of them. You didn’t want to keep repeating the same basic sequence a million times all over again, feeling like a child with a toy sword. You wanted to feel the adrenaline already like your husband when you watched him in combat or the warriors on your planet. Not listening to General Bohumil’s warnings, you started to spice up the sequence with the moves you had only seen in the gladiator arena before.
“My Lady, please, that is too advanced. We will get to it in the right time,” he sighed, trying his best to contain his anger. As a military man he was all about discipline and if you were a common soldier, he would lash out at you, you were sure of that. But you were his Grand Duchess and his Na-Baroness and he couldn’t even scold you. He could only calmly try to explain.
But you wouldn’t impress Feyd with the basic combat moves. You were sure that if he caught you now, he would laugh with contempt. No, you had to be better than that. And you hated to wait.
“This stupid shield,” you turned the device off as General’s eyes widened, “it’s distorting my view,” you whined.
“My Lady, please, turn it back on,” he pleaded. “Your eyes will get used to it after a few weeks of training, I can assure you of that.”
“A few weeks?!” You sneered. “When you talk to me using such long amounts of time, I get discouraged already. You think I’m not good enough to master this art faster than that?”
“It’s not about your personal skills, na-baroness, I assure you. Every man needs time to get better,” he swallowed thickly as he watched you play with the knife in your hand. “Please, turn the shield back on.”
Like a spoiled child, encouraged by the fact that your little hand tricks with the knife came easy to you, you took a step ahead and attacked him. In one swift movement he defended himself as he crossed his knife with yours but you could feel he was not using his full force.
You tried one of the tricks you had seen while observing the fights and you tried to quickly take a step back and attack him once again but straight into his ribcage this time. However, you were not experienced enough to try such a move and the knife clumsily slid through your hand. You hissed out of pain as it sliced through the leather fabric of your pants and through the tender flesh of your thigh.
The General’s eyes widened as he turned his shield device off and approached you quickly. You were in so much pain, you were gritting your teeth but you refused to let out a scream or to sit down. You didn’t want him to see you like this although the tears were already pricking your eyes and you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your leg.
“Na-Baroness!” There was a worry in his voice but he used a scolding tone, not being able to hold himself back anymore.
“Don’t even mention it. I know,” you drawled through gritted teeth. “It’s my fault, I know.”
He nodded his head, relieved that you were not blaming your injury on him.
“You’re hurt, my Lady. Let me escort you to the medical wing,” he insisted.
“No, thank you. I will go there myself,” you told him. “I will be back when it’s healed,” you added and limped out of the door as quickly as your pain allowed you, too.
You wanted to be alone so you could finally start crying out of pain, although you made sure to do it quietly. You were thankful that the medical wing was close to the training section of the fortress for strategic reasons.
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Your servant girls had picked you up from the medical wing. They had been looking at you as if you were crazy but they hadn’t dared to say a word. Your thigh was now disinfected and bandaged and your servants helped you to change into a nightgown as they recommended you to go to bed earlier than usual and get rest. They left you alone in your chamber and assured that they would be nearby if you needed them.
But you weren’t sleepy. You felt ashamed and humiliated as you kept overthinking your stupid behaviour. You knew one thing only – you didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to find out about this accident. He would think of you as weak and foolish… and he wouldn’t be wrong.
You were laying on the bed and reading a book, making sure that your leg was covered by both your nightgown and the duvet. When Feyd entered the bedroom – earlier than usual – you started to suspect he had found out about your accident and wanted to see with his own eyes. You pretended not to pay any attention to him but you watched him from the corner of your eye as you struggled to focus on the book. He sat by his desk and sighed while reading some letters that had been placed there in the morning and you realised it was his time to perform his na-baron duties as he was supposed to deal with the paperwork. He hated this.
Knowing that he was already angry at the fact that he had to answer the letters, you were trying not to bother him at all and you controlled your own breath so it wouldn’t be too loud. On the other hand, you had to admit that Feyd-Rautha had never aimed his anger at you… so far. You had known about his nature before and although you were not scared of him, you had expected him to get violent at times. That had never happened, though. 
Sometimes you wished it had. Because at least he’d react anyway to your presence instead of treating you like air.
Deep in your thoughts, you lost your focus and dropped your book with a loud thump sound on the floor. You froze and glanced at your husband’s shoulders. He stiffened and you quickly leaned in to grab the book, forgetting completely about your new injury as the duvet and your nightgown pulled up and revealed your bandage.
Once you straightened your back with the book in your hand, you noticed the exposed thigh and quickly covered it, hoping that Feyd had not seen it. You looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him staring at you intensely.
“What is it?” He asked with squinted eyes.
He talked to you so rarely that you nearly startled at the harsh and unpleasant sound of his raspy voice. You wondered if you’d ever get used to it.
“This? A book, dear husband. Something about the politics,” you chuckled nervously as you waved your hand, playing a fool.
Feyd stood up and approached the bed as you watched with terror in your eyes. He aggressively tossed the duvet aside and your skin got covered with goosebumps. He lifted up the hem of your nightgown and you hated to admit how electrifying his fingertips felt on your thigh. He had never touched you like that before.
“Who hurt you?” He asked after seeing the bandage again. His cold eyes stared into yours with a burning gaze.
“What do you care?” You asked and shrugged your arms. “It’s nothing,” you assured. “An accident.”
“I care,” he assured you but without any delicacy. “As your husband I am responsible for taking care of you and your honour,” he pointed out. “And as my wife you are my property. Whoever raises their hand on you, raises their hand on me and the Baronship,” he added.
“I did it to myself,” you bit on your lower lip and he tilted his head, visibly in disbelief. “If you paid more attention to me, you’d find out more things about me and you’d know by now that I tend to be clumsy sometimes,” you hissed at him and tried to cover your thigh again but he kept his hand there.
“I do pay attention to you,” he stated. “I observe you. I know when you’re lying,” he clenched his jaw. “Why are you defending the person who hurt you?”
“I’m not lying,” you protested.
“But you’re hiding something from me,” Feyd was relentless.
“Then we are only fair,” you put the book down as you looked at him angrily. “Your whole life is a secret kept away from me. Can’t I have mine?”
“Women on Giedi Prime do not have the same freedom as women on your planet do,” your husband reminded you. “A wife belongs to her husband in a way he will never belong to her.”
“What a relief then that I am not your wife,” you raised an eyebrow and he pursed his lips as he gave you a questioning look. “Because you have not consummated the union and refused so far to perform your duty and secure our bloodline.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Feyd snorted and looked away. “Stupid woman.”
“I do realise I am a disappointment to you. I am not one of the Imperial Princesses and I am not as interesting as your concubines. Not important enough, not attractive enough,” you decided to finally take your chance and tell him everything you had been feeling lately since it was the first opportunity to have some sort of conversation with your husband. He still refused to lay his eyes on you again. “I feel lonely, abandoned and rejected. Homesick. I want to be a good wife. I want to be a good na-baroness. But you’re not even giving me a chance. Out of boredom, I asked one of the generals to teach me how to fight and I hurt myself during training. Yes, it was pathetic of me. Go on, laugh. Make fun of me,” you encouraged him ironically. “At least it will be the very first reaction from you given to me in a long time.”
“Stop it! Stop,” Feyd-Rautha barked at you as he stood up and turned his back on you. He clutched his hands on the chair by his desk.
“Does the sound of my voice repulse you, too?” You asked, angrily. Now, when you finally let all these things out, you didn’t want to stop.
“You don’t understand!” He exclaimed and turned around to look at you with so much intensity that you curled up on the bed, feeling small and vulnerable. After all, he was a strong warrior and you were only a wounded prey. Like one of the rabbits in the forests on Morana, hunted by the hound dogs.
“Then explain it to me,” you whispered. “You owe me that at least.”
“I hurt everything I touch,” Feyd’s confession was sudden and it shocked you both. After a long while of silence between you two, he continued. “Just like him. It’s what this whole family is like.”
“I thought you liked to hurt,” you pointed out.
“Not you,” he answered nearly inaudibly. It was difficult for him to confess those things. You blinked a few times in disbelief.
“Why not me?” You asked, carefully.
“You’re supposed to be my wife. But I… I don’t know how to be a husband,” he looked at you again. You could swear that his sickly pale cheeks flushed slightly. “I was never… taught,” he explained.
“I didn’t expect you to be,” you admitted. “I knew life with you would be difficult. I knew you enough to know that. But nothing could prepare me for being… ignored. Completely,” you made your own confession as your heart pounded in your chest. You moved closer to him and reached your hands out, taking his gently and he didn’t even flinch. He just allowed it to happen, so you squeezed his cold fingers. “I am sorry I am not the wife you wanted.”
“It is not about that,” Feyd looked into your eyes. “And I do not ignore you. I let you be here. Sleep in my bed.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that was already a sign of affection,” you rolled your eyes.
“Protection,” he fixed you. “I don’t trust anyone here. They all work for my uncle,” he lowered his voice. “And as my wife, you are under my protection. If you want to learn how to fight,” he sighed and let go of your hands to sit on the edge of the bed again and reveal your bandaged thigh, “although I do not approve of that, from now on, it will be me training you. Do you understand? I don’t want any other man to teach you. I would never let this happen,” his fingertips brushed on your bandage and you felt a shiver go down your spine.
“I understand,” you nodded, trying not to smile too widely. Not exactly how you had imagined it but your plan to get your husband’s attention seemed to be working.
Feyd looked at your face again as his hand caressed your hair and cheek. You got startled at that at first but then you relaxed under his touch.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how to act around… a wife,” he admitted. “All I know is that she should not be treated like a common concubine.”
“So that is why you prefer to be around them. Because at least you know what to do,” you pointed out and he nodded. “You could have told me that.”
He laughed at your words, grinning with that black smile of his. It made you chuckle, too, as you realised how stupid your words were.
“That’s right. The Harkonnens don’t talk about their feelings,” you guessed.
“Our what?” Feyd squinted his eyes at you as his face became serious again. “I don’t know anything about the arrangement between your father and my uncle. But the way you acted on our first night together, it made me realise you are not here by your own will. It brings me pleasure when my concubines fear me but I do not wish for my wife to be scared.”
“I’m not scared of you, Feyd-Rautha,” you assured him. “I have never been.”
He looked a little surprised by your confession.
“You admired me then,” he seemed to be proud of himself.
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” you cooled down his enthusiasm. “You annoyed me,” you explained and he gave you a scolding look. However, he was more disappointed than angry. “You’re a spoiled Harkonnen brat.”
“Look who’s talking. Like you’re not a spoiled little noble lady who decided she wants to learn how to wield a knife out of boredom,” he pointed out.
“I know, I do not deny. Perhaps we are not a bad match at all,” you giggled and his eyes sparkled again. “I’m not used to warriors cheating in the arena, you know.”
“He says it is not the time yet to show my real abilities,” Feyd explained himself quickly, a little embarrassed that you pointed out his cheating. Honour was important to him and it was his weak spot.
“In the bedroom as well?” You raised an eyebrow, surprising your own self with your boldness. “Perhaps you have not been taught about being a husband but you surely know what your main duty is.”
“You’re eager,” he smirked.
“I am not a concubine but I am a woman like they are. I have my own needs and desires. You do not make it easy, ignoring me after coming to bed late at night, smelling like fresh sweat, blood and leather,” you pointed out.
“I fuck like I fight,” he warned you as his pupils darkened. His face was now so close to yours that you felt his hot breath on your mouth and his eyelashes tickled your cheeks.
“Is that a promise?” You whispered.
“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he snorted at you and you felt your cheeks heating up.
“You’re right. You have to show me,” you teased.
“No,” he moved back suddenly and you felt a sharp pain in your heart. He was so close… you nearly had him. “I don’t trust myself around you,” he admitted. “You will show me,” he told you as you raised your eyebrow.
“Me?” You swallowed thickly as his words.
“I’m yours,” he said. “Do whatever you wish with me. If a child is what you so badly want, to make your parents happy, to make my uncle happy,” he explained with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “then go on, explore, have fun. At your own pace.”
Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you realised that he was inviting you to initiate an intimacy between you two. You panicked as you had never expected that he’d want you to take a lead in the bedroom.
“I do not want to have a child to make anyone happy,” you fixed him. “Anyone but me. I want to secure our position on Giedi Prime,” you explained.
“So dutiful,” Feyd smirked.
“We share some values, dear husband,” you nodded and moved closer to him with a soft hiss as your injury reminded you of its presence.
“Easy, wife,” he watched you and you smirked as you put your arms around his neck.
“Are you sure you’re not doing it because you’re avoiding the paperwork?” You asked and pointed at the desk with your chin. Feyd sighed and you giggled. “I knew it,” you bit on your lower lip and sat astride him.
The first thing you did was to take off his shirt. You had observed his body many times before and the sight of his hard muscles had been the most delightful one. You tossed the shirt aside and gasped softly at your husband’s smooth pale skin. You allowed your fingertips to explore every crease, every bump, every vein and every tendon. Carefully, you leaned in and breathed in his scent as your lips softly brushed his shoulder.
His body was a work of art. Daily workouts and trainings were working miracles. He was strong and flexible. The sight alone was enough to make you feel hot. You began to feel the wetness between your legs as you allowed your fingertips to explore the upper part of his body. You tangled your legs behind his waist and moved your hands to his back, feeling the bumpy skin full of thin scars scattered all over. You had noticed them before but only now you gained the courage to ask him about them.
“Was it him?” You asked and Feyd nodded, carefully watching your reaction. But you didn’t flinch or make a disgusted face. You were sad about it. The scars were old. He had to be a young and scared boy once, tortured by his uncle to turn him into the ruthless killing machine he was now.
You leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his cheek.
“Turn around,” you asked and he looked unsure. “You said I could explore and play. I want you to turn around,” you repeated and he nodded, hesitantly, before moving away softly, making sure he wouldn’t hurt your injured thigh. Then he turned his back on you and looked behind his shoulder to see what you were about to do.
You put your hands around his waist and moved closer, still caressing the hard muscles of his abdomen, you leaned in and left a trail of soft kisses up and down his scarred back. From the short conversation you managed to have with your husband you quickly realised that what Feyd-Rautha had never known in his life was tenderness. You wanted to be the first and only person to give it to him. You were his wife and that was your job.
He flinched at the feeling of your soft lips upon his scars but then he relaxed. You lowered the hands resting on his muscular chest and put them on his hips as you shyly hesitated for a while before finally placing one of your palms on his crotch. Innocently peppering his back with delicate kisses, your hand started to massage his bulge through the fabric of his pants. He groaned softly and you froze.
“Don’t stop,” he scolded you.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” you took the hand away and moved back. “You told me I could do it at my own pace. I am not a concubine to order me around,” you reminded him and he turned around to face you again, surprised by your tone. “I am not a shy mouse, Feyd-Rautha. You seem to be aware that women on Morana have more rights. I was raised by a strong Tsarina.”
“Forgive me, I am still learning,” he answered with an amount of sincerity that left you speechless for a moment. As if he really tried to be a good husband.
“It’s quite alright,” you caressed his shoulder. “Lay down for me?” You encouraged and he nodded, quietly.
Feyd moved up on the bed to rest his head on the pillow and you crouched down, waiting for him to be on display for your needy hands. The fact that this terrifying warrior that nearly everyone feared seemed to be so obedient for you just because you were his wife was making you even more and more aroused.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmured as you caressed his chest again. “I mean it.”
“So are you,” he confessed as he looked up at you and you shyly lowered your gaze. “I mean it,” he repeated your words.
“I haven’t felt very beautiful lately,” you admitted.
“I didn’t know,” he confessed.
You didn’t want to talk about it now. You lowered yourself to his neck and sucked on the soft skin only to soothe it with a kiss right after. You went down with your kisses, making sure to leave it upon every inch of his torso before you finally found yourself facing his crotch. His pants looked very tight at the moment. Too tight.
Shyly but curiously, you unbuttoned them and pulled them down with his underwear, watching his hard cock twitching at the feeling of your hot breath. His size impressed you but also made you anxious. You helped Feyd to get rid of his clothes completely and tossed them on the floor before leaning in again.
You grabbed his length carefully as he hissed out of pleasure, trying not to think of all the concubines he had before you – concubines who knew how to please him way better than you did. You hesitated before placing a delicate kiss on the tip.
“Be patient with me, I am only learning,” you looked up, giving him puppy eyes. He was looking down at you with darkened pupils and haze in his gaze.
“Have fun down there,” he growled and threw his head back. You giggled and went back to the soft kisses and kitten licks as your hand pumped his length.
“I’m glad you didn’t take me on our wedding night,” you admitted. “This is so much more fun,” you squeezed his tip and he bucked his hip with a grunt as you watched the black precum leaking out.
You had been educated enough by your mother, servants, medics and all the explicit books you could find in the library. You smirked and licked him clean before lowering your head and taking him as far down your throat as you were able to. You kept yourself steady by holding his muscular thighs but when you felt his cock twitching a little, you let go quickly; your drool mixed with his thick black precum leaked down your chin. Feyd looked up with an annoyed expression on his face but he didn’t say anything this time.
“We can have more fun once I’m expecting. Now we can’t waste any of that, can we?” You tilted your head and pulled your nightgown up to your hips before moving up and lining his cock with your glistening pussy. You swallowed thickly at the sight of how hard and big he was.
“Take your time,” Feyd put his hands on your hips. “It’s a lot to take,” he bragged.
“Oh, so you think I can’t handle it?” You raised an eyebrow.
Just like when it came to wielding a blade, you didn’t like being told that you couldn’t handle something. You were an impatient lady.
“I am your wife,” you reminded him as you slowly lowered yourself. The feeling of his swollen tip brushing your clit made you shiver but you bravely kept a poker face on. “I was made to take your cock and carry your children,” you added. “No matter how big it is, I’m going to take it.”
Feyd winked at you and your heart skipped a beat at that. He could be adorable at times, you had to admit. It made you happy that you could finally experience this side of him. It was worth all the pain your injury had been causing you.
You lowered yourself some more, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he tightened the squeeze on your hips, surely bruising them, too. You hissed and shut your eyes as you threw your head back.
The pain mixed with pleasure, the overwhelming fulfilment with an endless desire to feel him even deeper, to fill you even further, to make you swell and heavy with his children. When you finally sat fully on his cock, you let out a moan of his name as your walls twitched and squeezed him.
“Easy, wife, take your time,” he reminded you. His hands were keeping you down, not letting you move for a while. He was giving you time to adjust to his size and you opened your eyes to look at him below you. You gasped at the admiration on his face. All those weeks of feeling unattractive suddenly vanished from your memory.
You were a daughter of your planet. Morana was known for its fertile soil like you would be known for bearing his heirs. You were his goddess at that moment but you didn’t feel the need to be cruel towards your subject.
“I want you closer,” you breathed out and he nodded, sitting up very carefully, making sure not to hurt you. Once his back rested on the pillow behind him, you clinged to his chest and joined your lips with his in a kiss as your hips began to move slowly.
Feyd’s hands moved your hips and helped you to find the right pace and rhythm. Soon enough you were bouncing on that big cock with ease that came with desire. Feeling that you didn’t require so much of his help anymore, one of your husband’s hands moved down and rested on your bandage. His touch was unusually gentle and you moaned into his mouth, not breaking the hungry kiss even for a second.
After all those weeks of being left abandoned and touch starved, you just wanted to devour him. Nothing mattered; certainly not your wound, not the sweat, not the exhaustion. Your only goal was to chase the high that was coming.
Feeling that your movements became chaotic, Feyd cupped your face and groaned into your mouth as his own hips picked up the pace, taking control over you. You trembled and let out muffled cries of pleasure as he rutted roughly inside of you through your orgasm. Not long after you felt his thick black cum spilling deep inside of you as both of your bodies relaxed.
You broke the kiss and tried to catch your breath. Your husband wiped all the tears off of your cheeks and laid your head on his shoulder gently. You hugged his chest and cuddled him like that in silence.
“Do you remember what you promised?” He asked and you furrowed your brows. “That next time you want to train, you’re coming to me.”
“Yes,” you smiled to yourself. “But I am only learning,” you added, shyly. “I don’t want you to laugh at me.”
“If you’re a quick learner with the blade like you are in the bedroom, then you will soon laugh at me,” he assured you and caressed your back as you giggled into the crook of his neck.
“You’re a quick learner, too, Feyd-Rautha,” you looked up as he looked down, confused. “How to be a husband, I mean,” you explained.
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You watched the servant girls painting your husband’s beautiful body with the black war paint as you caressed your swollen bump through the fabric of your dress. They finished their job and took a few steps back with their heads kept low. One of them handed you the bowl of the black liquid and you approached him as he smiled.
You dipped your finger in the paint and drew one of the symbols of your people on his chest. He looked down, questioningly.
“And what does this one mean?” He asked.
“It ensures good favours of the gods and victory in battle,” you explained softly.
“You know that he hates it when you do that,” Feyd reminded you. Baron Harkonnen would prefer you to become a Harkonnen and give up your old ways completely instead of teaching Feyd more about your culture.
“I know,” you looked up. “That’s why I do that.”
In the beginning you had been indifferent to his uncle but the more you found out about him and the damage he had done to your husband, the more you hated him.
Feyd nodded at you and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.
“Na-Baron, five minutes,” one of the servants reminded him of the time left.
“I will bring you the hearts of my enemies,” he cupped your face as he looked deep into your eyes while making a promise.
“I have only one enemy,” you reminded him, “and he is not in the arena today.”
Feyd nodded quietly. He put his hand on your swollen belly and caressed it.
“Take care of your mother for me for a while,” he said and you chuckled with an eye-roll.
You watched him put the last pieces of clothes and take his blades. You couldn’t wait for the day when he’d become The Baron and he wouldn’t have to do it anymore. Even though the fights were fixed, you still feared for his life. And to think you had used to find this practice unhonourable. Now you were glad that his combats were cheated.
“Slava, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you blessed him.
He turned his head around for the last time to wink at you playfully and give you his black grin.
“I’ll be right back.”
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MASTERLIST
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chaos0pikachu · 3 months
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word of honor is a comfort show specifically for scenes like when Cheng Ling the accidently adopted child of two mass murderers gets kidnapped by Soft Butch Assassin and her girlfriend High Femme Assassin for a piece of the glazed donut when Zhou Zi Shu shows up like "UNHAND MY CHILD!!" And CL is all "omg I'm your son 🥺🥺" and ZZS is like "I suddenly can't read I don't know mariah carey.gif" meanwhile our lesbian assassins are like "god people have no respect for torture time anymore" and they all have a swirly twirly fight b/c everyone is dressed to the NINES b/c if you're gonna be a murderer in a wuxia show you are also gonna look PEAK FABULOUS thank you very fucking much and then ZZS is like "oh no my nipple nails of cancer are acting up" and whenever his nipples are aching who shows up but Wen Ke Xing busting through the door like the koolaid man with the energy of a queen lip syncing for her life on Rupaul all "HOW DARE YOU HARM MY HUSBAND AND OUR CHILD" and ZZS is like "he's not our child!!" and another swirly twirly fight happens and the lesbians dip so our marital arts family chases them outside only to be confronted by ZOMBIES or crackheads whichever and WKX is like "husband, take our child and run" and ZZS is obviously not gonna do that cause like both a feral cat & a millennial he's always Down to Fight and also lacks general self-preservation so WKX is like "dying alongside you is also a beautiful way to die" meanwhile CL in the back wondering if they could all just not die like he didn't stick a piece of the glazed donut in his stomach and hang out with his boring, beige, busted uncles for 2 weeks just get eaten train to busan style the fuck
and then Scorpion King (not the rock) floats down from the sky in slow mo like a Jrock act floating down onto the stage playing his little guitar like "HELLOOOOOOOO ANCIENT CHINA!! HOW WE FEELING TONIGHT?" and ZZS is like "not a fucking band kid" so he throws smoke bombs naruto style and they all dip
and in the end of all~~~ of this CL is like "so I'm your son right?" and ZZS is like, "fuck it, fine" and signs the adoption papers while wwx is like planning an autumn wedding
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alltheirdamn · 1 month
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Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)
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Chap. 1 : Your Name
Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')
Masterlist
PROLOGUE
You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.
 Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway. 
The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion. 
Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes. 
You’d never love again. 
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“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.
By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.
“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road. 
You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays. 
Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life. 
Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love. 
Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake. 
“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded. 
“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.
“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”
You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.
“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”
Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.
“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”
“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”
“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”
You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved. 
The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough. 
Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil. 
It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better. 
Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long? 
You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again. 
**
You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement. 
“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.
“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.
You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.
“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.
Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks. 
“Really, Maria. You do.”
“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.
Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.
“Is that her dad?” You asked.
He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone. 
“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”
“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.
Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.
“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”
“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.
You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled.  And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance. 
And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest. 
“What was that?” Maria chirped. 
You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you. 
“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”
“It looked like something.”
You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer. 
“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you. 
Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles. 
“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”
“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”
You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.
“Miss Smith!”
“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. 
With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes. 
“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked. 
“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it. 
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally. 
“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.
“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement. 
“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”
His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.
“Joel,” he insisted.
You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?
Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home. 
The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.
The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit. 
You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.
“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.
“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”
“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.
“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.
Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.
“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.
“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”
“It’s my fault. I can fix it.” 
You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true. 
“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”
He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before. 
“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled.
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.
“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”
Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”
His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours. 
“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”
“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”
“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”
There was a lot of harm in it. 
You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly. 
“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.
You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.
“Yes, Mr. Miller?”
“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there. 
“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.
Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous. 
“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”
“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”
His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in. 
“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.
“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.
“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.
“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”
That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.
“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”
“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch. 
“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”
“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”
“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”
Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.
It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget. 
The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.
“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”
“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk. 
“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated. 
“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”
She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents. 
“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.
“I don’t know,” you sighed.
“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”
There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.
You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out. 
The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see. 
Joel Miller.
He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here. 
“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.
You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing. 
“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”
She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip. 
“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”
“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”
“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.
You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.
Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.
You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—
“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.
“Mr. Miller,” you said.
“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased. 
“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”
Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body. 
“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.
“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips. 
“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”
“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”
“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned. 
“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer. 
“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?” 
Was he… flirting with you? 
You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment. 
“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care. 
“What other flavors do you like?” 
He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.  
“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.
Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered. 
“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered. 
“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”
“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered. 
Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency. 
Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality. 
“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”
Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away. 
“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.
“How do you know? Were you watching me?”
“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?” 
He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends. 
“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach. 
“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked. 
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.
You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.
“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.
Joel peered around you and huffed loudly. 
“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”
“He doesn’t look too happy.”
“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.
Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.
“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”
“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.
“Wait!” Joel called out.
“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”
You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built. 
You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot. 
“Fuck,” you groaned.
As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.
“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained. 
“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you. 
The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer. 
“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”
Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins. 
“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud. 
Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.
“No,” he whispered softly.
Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door. 
“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. 
The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car. 
“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear. 
“I’m—.”
“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”
He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner. 
“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck. 
“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”
You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior. 
“Get in.”
His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar. 
You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness. 
Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile. 
“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light. 
You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”
“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”
A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably. 
“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”
You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction. 
“This is me,” you sniffled. 
“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”
“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”
“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.
“It’s all formalities.”
“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”
Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.
“Can I just know one thing?” He asked. 
You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.
“What’s your name?”
Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.
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allfearstofallto · 1 month
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Yandere Arlecchino who expected her darling to put up a fight and instead found out they were planning a wedding for the two of them all along or just is like, "yes kidnap me its okay i'll go willingly!"
Out yandere the yandere
She's not crazy if I'm crazy too
Yandere Arlecchino x Fem! Reader
TW: Yandere themes, mentions of stalking
She wasn't surprised to see your home empty. All your things packed away, photos off the walls, clothes no longer in the closet. She wasn't surprised to see that you were gone. You were a smart girl after all, she expected nothing less from you than to be aware that you were being stalked. You must've noticed she was on the move, noticed that she was growing impatient with her lack of you in her life. She scoffed at just how much of your stuff you'd left behind, in so much of a rush that you'd rather leave without it.
What did surprise her was the sound of your door opening again, her heels clicking against the floor as she turned to face…you? A smirk must've formed on her face, but she made herself stifle it. Although the chase would've been nice, the feeling of hunting you down where you stood, this was better. Waltzing into her arms accidentally, not ever being able to get away again.
“Forgot something?” She cooed, crossing her arms over her chest.
But you didn't seem scared. Didn't even make an effort to run away. Arlecchino was aware that she was a stranger in your home. Not just any stranger, but a harbinger. Even if you didn't know who she was, you'd be able to feel the power in her energy, in the way she carried herself, yet you weren't afraid of her. Were you putting on an act? Did you have something planned? Her red eyes stayed on you, pupils never leaving your form, but just awaiting your next move.
“I don't think so,” you looked over the room once more, “I was pretty sure I packed everything.”
“You must've forgotten to leave then,” Arlecchino chuckled, her claw like fingers tapping against her arm, “or do you not realize what I plan to do to you?”
You hummed softly as you walked into the room, past her form. Delicate hands reached into one of the many boxes you had sat to the side. She merely watched you, waiting for the part where you scream or cry, even fight, but instead you lifted a dress bag from inside the box and opened the zipper. White lace and tulle filled her vision. You traced your hands down puffs and ruffles, showing her the rather complicated wedding dress.
She cocked an eyebrow, “You're getting married?”
“Of course, silly,” you said with a playful giggle, taking one of her hands into yours and interlocking her long fingers, “I'm getting married to you!”
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thegettingbyp2 · 19 days
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Request: Feyd really likes his new wife's hair.
Beautiful
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When you stepped off of the ship the moment you landed in Arrakis, Feyd felt his breath catch in his throat, something he was unused to and tried to disguise as clearing his throat. He thought you were beautiful with your delicate features, wide, innocent eyes, but the thing that caught his attention the most about you was your hair.
Feyd was used to his pets and all of the other Harkonnens, so when he saw your beautiful brown waves cascading down past your shoulders, he was immediately intrigued. He made his way over to you, ignoring your father and the rest of his men beside you and bowed slightly, holding his hand out in a position that easily allowed you to slide your hand into his.
‘My lady, it’s an honour to finally meet you,’ he said clearly, bringing the back of your hand to his lips and brushing his lips across your knuckles gently, smirking to himself slightly when he felt your hand twitch lightly in his grasp. ‘I’ve heard nothing but good things.’
‘A pleasure to meet you too, Na-Baron,’ you replied, your voice soft and kind despite the nerves that were currently running through your body. You’d known that this day was coming for years, you’d been promised to Feyd-Rautha since you were thirteen and, now that you were of age, you were to move in with him and get to know him before your impending wedding.
Once all of the introductions were out of the way, your parents left with the Baron, giving you and Feyd some time. He started by showing you around the place you were now to call home before you both reached the final door.
‘What’s behind this door?’ you asked, having a pretty good idea but being too nervous to properly ask.
‘This is our room,’ Feyd replied, watching your face intently for your reaction and, as much as he liked your hair, in this moment, he hated it. Hated the way you could pull it across your shoulder to hide your face. Without thinking, he reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear, trailing his fingers gently across your cheek. ‘Your bags are already inside.’
You nodded gently before smiling softly at him before he opened the door. Leading you inside, you were surprise to find that Feyd had thought ahead and had added some decorations that you knew didn’t belong to him along with a dressing table with a large mirror sitting opposite the bed. ‘It’s lovely,’ you said, looking over at him, ‘thank you.’
Not knowing how to reply, Feyd nodded at you and stepped forward. You’d noticed all day that his eyes seemed to constantly trail to your hair and this time was no different. His hand came up and, just before he got close enough, he abruptly stilled his hand, moving his eyes to look into yours before speaking. ‘May I?’
‘Yes,’ you replied, your voice coming out in barely a whisper. All of a sudden, you felt his fingers weave through your hair, a look of fascination on his face. Hesitantly, he reached out with his other hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you slightly closer as he moved his face until he was inches away from yours. ‘You like my hair?’ you asked, not knowing how to react with him so close, his scent filling your senses, making you fight to keep your eyes open.
‘It’s beautiful,’ he replied simply, tearing his eyes away from your hair to look into your eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat. ‘No one else here has hair like yours, I love it, but I hate it too.’
‘You hate it?’ you asked, furrowing your brows slightly in confusion.
‘I hate how you can use it to hide yourself, like it’s a shield you can put up. I want to know everything about you and it’s…frustrating when you hide behind your hair. I’m not used to feeling like that,’ he confessed.
You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your lips, turning your body until you were face to face with him. ‘I can always wear my hair up?’ you suggested, failing to hide the smile in your voice as you spoke.
Feyd let out a laugh, a sound that you weren’t expecting to hear from him, nodding as he closed the last bit of space between you both, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he looked at you. ‘I’d like that very much.’
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princessofmarvel · 7 months
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Runaway
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summary | thomas has made a deal with a man to help his business. thomas’s only condition? to marry the man's daughter. except she doesn’t want to marry him. 
pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader
word count | 1.98k
 genre | fluff with some angst?
requested? | yes! i had so much fun writing this! especially since i have never written anything like this before! thank you so much for requesting! please let me know if you like it!
warnings! | arranged marriage? darkish thomas? (not really, i’m just not great at writing dark characters sometimes, lol) not proof read yet!
author’s note! | hey everyone! this main character was written with poc in mind, i have tried my best, but since i am not a person of color please let me know if there is anything i can change to make it better! i hope you enjoy your request! please know that if you have requested something, i promise that i will get to it soon! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!
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Thomas knew what was happening today, hell his whole family knew. His future bride was coming to birmingham. He struck up a good deal with her father about helping her fathers business about a week ago, then he saw a photo of the man's daughter. The only condition Thomas made? To marry his daughter. Once they agreed, the man said he needed a week to get his family there. By the time they got there, Thomas had already got everything set up to make damn sure the man would be successful in birmingham. Which included a few fights, but Thomas would do it all over again if it meant he could have her. 
They weren’t to meet until the wedding, something her father insisted on. So Thomas stood in a room of the church getting ready, when his brother John busted in. 
“They can’t find her Tommy” was all John said as he huffed as if he was out of breath.
Thomas’s mind began to race. What did he mean they couldn’t find her? Has something happened? Had one of his enemies found out about today and took her? 
“She was getting ready, and asked for a moment to herself, when her mother came back in to check on her, she was gone.” John added as he leaned on the closest chair. 
Thomas stood and took in his brother's words for a moment before he left the room. His future wife was out in Birmingham in her pretty white dress, with no protection and no one was doing anything about it. Her family may not know this city, but Thomas did. He knew what could happen to her if she stayed out there too long. This won’t be an issue when they’re married, and she has his last name. She could kill someone and get away with it then, but right now no one in Birmingham knows who she is. All they know is that she is a pretty girl in a white wedding dress, and the thought of what could happen to her made him sick.  
Thomas looked everywhere he could think his fiance would be. He couldn’t find her anywhere, the only place he hadn’t checked was the Garrison. 
He walked in to see his bride to be, standing behind the bar making herself what looked like her fourth drink. He walked in slowly, making sure not to scare her. 
“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked up to the bar. She looked up at him as she continued to make her drink. “I’m Thomas Shelby, your future-”
“I know who you are.” She said, cutting him off. 
“Well, we're supposed to be getting married right now.” He said matter of factly. “So what are you doing here?”
“I’m not marrying you, thought you would have figured that out by now.” She said as she took a sip of her drink. 
Thomas looked at her, making sure to not show how shocked he was that she was speaking to him that way.
“And, why not?” He asked her, now intrigued. 
“I don’t want to, I don't know you.” She said as she finished her drink. 
Thomas moved to be behind the bar where she was. He took her drink from her hand and placed it on the bar. 
“(Y/n)” He said as he towered over her. “Your father has already given me your hand.” 
“I know, I don’t care.” She said as she grabbed her drink back from Thomas.
Thomas just took a moment and stared at the girl as she took her drink back. It was the first time he truly got to look at her. He got to take in the color of her eyes, and the curl of her hair, she truly was beautiful.
“Why exactly are you so against marrying me?” He asked as he stared at her. 
“I want to be my own person, not defined by my father or my husband.” She said not missing a beat. 
“I think I can help with that.” Thomas said, starting to get closer to the girl. “I have a certain reputation, if you’re married to me, you’ll be untouchable.”
“That's still me being defined by my husband.” She said, cutting him off with a small eye roll. 
Thomas took the drink from her and set it back down, but this time, she didn’t turn away from him, she just stared up at him, waiting for him to continue. 
“As I was saying, you would be untouchable, and if you wanted a role in peaky blinder business, you wouldn’t just be “Thomas Shelby's wife”. You would be “(Y/n) Shelby, most feared woman in Birmingham”. You have an opportunity here, the choice is yours.” Thomas said, staring her in the eyes. Normally he would never offer this to someone he just met. But there was something about (Y/n), just the look in her eyes, the way she wasn’t scared of him, how she held herself, how she looked at him with the same amount of intensity he looked a her with, how she didn’t care she was defying the most feared man in birmingham. "Don't let your pride get in the way of a smart decision."
Thomas watches the girl stare at the wall for a moment, him taking in her side profile. Until she finally looked up at him.
"I won't be reduced to just your little wife?" She asked with a small glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"I'll let you take care of anyone who says you are" He said with a serious look on his face.
The girl gave him a small smile, it was obvious that no one had ever believed in her the way Thomas was right now, that they all thought of her as some weak little girl and nothing more.
"Fine, I'll marry you" She said as she looked up at him with a small smile. 
Thomas wrapped her arm in his and led her out of the Garrison. He held the bottom of her white dress up away from the dirt as he walked them back to the church. 
“You know, you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.” She said to him with a small laugh. “It’s bad luck.” 
“I won’t let anything ruin this marriage, trust me.” He said as he opened the church door for her and let her walk in first. Thomas watched as her family whisked her away, knowing that this girl was truly something he had never expected her to be, and he loved it.
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bunnyhugs77 · 3 months
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Honey I'm Home
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୨୧- Just a little slice of life of a hard working dad, his tired wife and their twin girls.
୨୧ WC: 900
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Jungkook pushes open the door to your small two-bedroom flat, his keys jingling in the door which attracted the two little girls on the other side to come running instantly.
The soft patter of their socked feet hitting the wooden floors as they rushed to his as fast as they could. "Daddy!" The girls squealed. Jungkook crouched down, his once drained expression replaced with one full of delight.
"Girls!" He exclaims, taking the both of them in each of his arms, listening to their adorable laughter as he engulfed them into his tight embrace. "Daddy! Can't breathe!" Aria squeaks from where her head rested against his chest. Always the dramatic one of the two.
Jungkook laughs, apologizing and letting them go. Aria runs back to the kitchen where he could only assume the source of that flavourful scent was coming from. Meanwhile Hye-Ji stayed back to show him the flowers she'd picked just for him.
"Are these for me?" Bending at the waist to collect the crushed dandelions that were once in the grip of her fist. She nods with the brightest smile he's ever seen.
Picking her up as well, letting her rest on his side with one hand, careful not to ruffle the very elaborate princess dress she was wearing as he finally begins to make his way to the kitchen. "Thank you so much princess, I'll make sure to add this to my collection." He places a kiss to the crown of her head.
There you were. His eyes seemed to soften once they landed on you. In a button up and your favourite pair of mom jeans." Hi baby," He gets the chance to peck your lips briefly before Hye-Ji was asking to be put down.
She quickly ran off to her sister in the living room where there were colouring pages ripped out, building blocks all over the place, a box of crayons in the laundry bin full of clothes that were waiting to be folded.
"Hi." You manage a smile before resuming your blank stare into the pot of tomato sauce for the spaghetti that you'd been stirring for god knows how long. "Is everything okay?" Disregarding your mundane 'yeah' he know something is up.
"Honey, what's wrong? Talk to me." You sigh, dropping your shoulders, finally looking at him. He was in his typical work-wear for his day job as a private banker meanwhile he works part-time nights as a mail courier.
"Today was a bad day." Letting your head fall into your husband's firm chest in defeat. His hands raised to hold you in his arms the same way the have been for the last 5 years.
The shiny silver band of his wedding ring catching the light for a moment as he gently rubbed your back. "You wanna talk about it?"
You pout softly, "There's nothing to say, look at the state of the house. Hye-Ji turned the house upside down looking for her dress this morning. Then I took them to the grocery store and Aria got lost." Jungkook's eyebrows raise, but you weren't done.
"I finally got them to sleep for an hour while I did some laundry, and then I ended up falling asleep myself, waking up to crayons and toys everywhere, and Hye-Ji was crying because she missed you and then I started crying because I missed you too and-"
You couldn't believe this was making you tear up. The day was hectic and the fact you'd have to do it all over again tomorrow. Jungkook hushes you in a comforting manner, practically swaddling you in his arms. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here," you sniffle, stepping back.
"It's not your fault. You work two jobs. it's just hard sometimes." You admit and Jungkook gets an idea. "Go." He says and your brow arches, "I'll finish dinner, and take care of the girls. Go rest, or read that Jasper Wilde book you've been wanting to read. Please. Let me help, you deserve it." He pecks your forehead and you weren't going to fight him on it.
Leaving the kitchen and the responsibilities to him. Telling yourself that it would only be a thirty minute nap but it turned into 2 hours. By the time you walked back into the kitchen, it looked like you'd walked into a whole new house.
Everything was neat and tidy, the girls were sitting on the ground with a bowl of abandoned grapes shared between them as they watched Moana with an entranced gaze.
The laundry basket was gone, the floors were clean and the air smelled of soft fresh linens and cinnamon. Looking back to the kitchen where Jungkook quietly tidied up, humming softly to himself. You stood hidden from where you were admiring your little family.
You may not have had much but you had everything you needed right here. "You're amazing you know that?" Jungkook says as you approached him. "I should be saying that to you." You counter.
"No. I mean it, Y/n. Having two jobs is easy, but doing what you do everyday is a job for a saint. I appreciate everything you do for us, I love you so much." His lips pressing against your forehead while your heart felt so full of love. "I love you." You say.
"I have to potty!" Aria declares and the both of you look at each other.
"Not it."
"Not it."
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baby-jaguar · 6 months
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CoD Wedding Headcannons
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Some sweet love for our boys, hoping to cheer anyone up after MW3. While the photos do have fem/wedding dresses in them, I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible!
I hope everyone can enjoy!
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Price
Getting married to Price warrants an old Hollywood glamour, something more intimate and small for the people you both hold close, so you can make memories of the long-awaited night while being able to relax in good nature of the celebration.
You both decided to find a nice speakeasy for both the ceremony and reception, as Price had surprised you and rented out the entire venue. The soft and warm glow of candles and old lights casted a romantic light on you, showing the etheral glow to you.
Price is a traditional man, and decided to save his first look to seeing you walk down the aisle. As your eyes lock onto his, he sniffles and the distinct tell of his moustance twitching is what keys you in on him being able to feel comfortable showing his emotions as he hones his ice blue eyes on you.
He did in fact, make quite the show for your first kiss, taking you in his arms and giving you a gentle but deep dip, showing off the romantic (almost steamy) touch of your lips as you lock in your unity.
Your first dance is a slow sway in circles, focused on whispering sweet nothings to each other in between the kisses you reach up to give him. Saving the absolute last dance for both of you, as the clock strikes into midnight and the day is now Sunday, Etta James' Sunday Kind of Love plays out softly as you sway together before heading up to your honeymoon suite.
Vows:
"My angel, you have been everything I believed I never deserved. You have shown me what I have always been missing, the love that I never knew of. I know I will never be able to amount to the thankfulness of you sticking by me through and through, I will never stop thanking the heavens of the gold and glory that you are, as you run through my veins to find your home in my heart.
Just as I fought by your side on the field, I promise to fight for our love, to shield it from any harm that may come its way. Through the scars and wounds we bear, both seen and unseen, I vow to cherish every part of you. Your strength, your vulnerability, your laughter, and your tears - they are all precious to me. Our love is a force that any creature made by god would fear, as I know we are forever to be unstoppable together, through every small and great task.
Together, we will conquer any obstacle that stands in our way. I promise to never forget the sacrifices made; honoring our fallen, for they have paved and protected the way for our love. They watch over us, guiding us, and reminding us to cherish every moment we have. I love you, with every last being of myself, and even past my last breath. Forever and always, angel."
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Gaz
Gaz has a flair for the dramatics and also loves a fairytale and nature aesthetic. He requested a fairytale wedding, and it was an extravagant night for the two of you. Gaz values some traditions but was ready to blow those to the wind for his excitement to celebrate your love. You did a first look, and he was rendered speechless as he took in your form, tears already pooling and beginning to stream down his face.
Gaz took the time with you to learn a ballroom dance for your first song, impressing your guests and even yourselves with how beautiful and magical the two of you are. Cutting the cake was a very sweet moment for the two of you, as you both happened to have the same thought and booped each other on the nose with icing at the same moment.
Your wedding was held in a mountaintop venue, the night sky showing all the stars that shined brightly and reflected on a lake, approving of your love as if the faries make an appearance for your royal court of a wedding. As you danced the night away, Kyle was sure to keep a mix of whispering the most heart warming sweet nothings, and making sure to catch your reaction by the photographers when he murmured sinfully sweet thoughts in your ear.
Vows:
"Through the chaos and uncertainty, you became my anchor, guiding me with your strength and infectious spirit. Together, we have faced the darkest of days, and it is in those moments that our love has grown stronger. When I look into your eyes, I see a reflection of my hopes, dreams, and desires.
Your love has breathed life into my soul, and I vow to nourish that love with tenderness and compassion. I promise to be your confidant, your partner, and your best friend, as your happiness is everything that can and will continue to let my heartbeat to our special song. I promise to be the keeper of your dreams, the one who will protect and nourish you from any challenges we face, always together.
You are my life; I will walk beside you, hand in hand, supporting you in every step. You are the greatest reward life has ever, granted me. With every beat of my heart, I will love you fiercely, unconditionally, and without reservation, for you are the missing piece that completes me."
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Soap
Johnny was all for having a fun and colorful wedding, and a maximalist and retro decor was decided on. Because for a MacTavish? Go big or go home baby.
He never stopped smiling the day of your wedding, his astonishment at the environment and scene of your unity never leaving his face. You decided to read your vows privately to each other, holding hands and having your backs to each other while waiting to have your first look down the aisle. Under disco balls, your first dance felt like something out of a movie.
Johnny was one to always show off, and he was sure to spin and dip you around, his strength holding you as he even lifted you and twirled you around. Now as a real MacTavish, you both knew how to throw a party and made sure that your open bar helped your guests get as wild as you two are.
If you did decide to wear a garter, or simply put one on for the tradition, Johnny made a damn great show of taking it off; crawling underneath your dress/between your legs and made you squeak in embarrassment as his stuble tickled your thigh.
Vows:
"Today, I stand before you, to pledge my undying love. You, my little sparrow, have held my attention, obsession, and heart from the moment our eyes met. I promise to always have your back, whether we're dodging bullets or just trying to figure out what to have for dinner. With you, life is an adventure, and I can't wait to tackle it together.
I promise to be your partner in crime for life, always up for exploring new horizons and creating memories we’ll never live down, But as long as we're together, every moment will be an adventure worth cherishing.
You bring laughter and lightness to my life, even in the darkest of times. Your smile is like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds. Life is too short to not enjoy the simple pleasures, and with you by my side, every moment is a treasure.
I vow to keep the flames of passion alive, As Our love is a fire that burns bright, even amidst the chaos. I promise to keep the spark alive, to always pursue you with the same determination and intensity that challenges the forces of this earth."
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Ghost
Simon was enthusiastic to have a wedding that featured a dark and mystical aesthetic. He wanted something small and private, requesting that it be some of your closest friends and family to spend the special night together.
With a romantic and dark church, it was a powerful and mystical wedding that incorporates both of your energies. You both decided not to have groomsmen/bridesmaids and instead placed altars of your fallen teammates and loved ones under the arch with you two, feeling their love in your unity.
Simon waited for his first look down the aisle but began crying with a wavering voice during your vows. During the first dance, he lifted you to stand atop of his feet, holding you as he moved the both of you in a surprising fashion of a waltz, elegantly for the seasoned stealth veteran.
His eyes seemed to swim with tears, iris' almost as black as his pupils in the dark lit church and ballroom. His eyes were rarely straying from you, far to enamored with keeping every memory to be held in his soul- even in the next life.
Vows:
"From the darkness where death once consumed us, to the light that now shines through our love, I stand here today, my heart laid bare, to vow my eternal devotion to you. In the face of danger, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, our love has blossomed like a fragile flower, defying all odds. Today, I stand here, a silent guardian, to pledge my undying love and devotion to you. In our promise, my heart will always yearn for your touch, laughter, and the warmth of your presence.
Through the pain and loss we have endured, I promise to cherish every memory we share. Your laughter, your touch, your soul - they are etched into the very fabric of my existence. I will hold you as tenderly as the spirits did when creating you, as you are a gift that I will forever cherish. In this broken world, I vow to mend any pieces of your heart, to hold you close when the weight of the past becomes too heavy to bear.
I will be your strength when you feel weak, your rock when you need stability. With you, I have found a love that mends the scars of the past."
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Graves
Phillip desired a venue within the wilderness and countryside, deciding that a farm with a Barn reception was perfect. His vows were as strong as his commands, his voice was deep and rich with honey, and maybe a few tears, as he spoke his heart out to you and let the crowd hear just how much you have changed him into a loving man.
You partook in “burying the bourbon,” planting a favorite bottle in the ground of your wedding venue, one month prior. Once dug out, you intertwined arms and took shots all night, the heat of the drink and your love enveloping you both. two-stepping through the night on the dance floor, he twirled you expertly and dipped you low to the ground before always leaving a kiss on your lips.
It was during the ceremony that he surprised you, having ordered a mechanical bull for you and the guests to ride. Taking you and himself on the first ride, you laughed so hard you cried at how silly, but fun it was.
Taking you to the airport after the wedding, he had a classic American car with a "Just Married" sign on the back. And of course, the Shadows were your escort to the airport.
Vows:
"My sweetheart, from the moment our stubborn hearts crossed paths, I sensed a connection deeper than what ties us to this life. I will be a guardian of our love, ensuring that it shines brightly in every step I take, and every breath I draw, as you are the whisper that breathes into my greatest devotion.
In the depths of my soul, and the depths of you, I promise to carry our love of shared laughter, whispered promises, and the unspoken bond that will forever be the piece that grounds me in this realm. I vow to live a life worthy of the love you bless me with, to carry forward the lessons you teach me, and to honor the sacrifices we have made to make it this far, together.
Your courage, compassion, and unwavering loyalty will forever inspire me, my angel, whom I vow to cherish and love and you beat your wings to the pulse of my heart.
As I walk this Earth with you by my side, I know that we will be forever united no matter the realm we are in. As our love knows no boundaries, and as we exchange these vows, we will be together, holding each other in a timeless embrace. To the moon and farther, you are my saving grace. ”
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Alejandro
Alejandro was excited to celebrate your commitment and love to each other, already planning a massive celebration between each other's families, friends, and Los Vaqueros, who helped set up your beautiful wedding. In true Vaquero fashion, the Wedding Lasso Ceremony was incorporated.
By a thick cord of white rope, the priest tied it around you two in an infinity shape and blessed your unity to eternity. As he read his vows to you, Alejandro tried very hard to not cry but in the last paragraph (and from hearing his own mother’s soft sniffles in the crowd) he had a quiet sob while his eyes found yours, reciting the lines from his heart.
As the ceremony concluded, you and Alejandro rode your horses down the streets of the town, waving and smiling at all who had come out to shout and cheer for your parade of love in La Callejoneada, many throwing rice and flower petals towards you two in a token of celebration. Your wedding was held in an orchard of Mango trees, the meaning of affection and adoration not.
Vows:
"Mi Amor, as we stand together, I vow to be the person you deserve, to love you unconditionally, and to be a witness to your growth and transformation. Our love is a flame that burns brightly, illuminating the path before us, and I am grateful to walk it by your side.
In your eyes, I find the force that drives me to be what you deserve, as you are the most sacred thing to ever cross the path of my heart. Eres mi existencia, la luz que hace que mi sangre lata en mi corazón como siempre ha sido el tuyo. (You are my existence, the light that makes my blood beat into my heart as it has always been yours.)
Mi Vida, in you, I have found a sanctuary where I can be myself, unburdened by the weight of the world. I vow to be your shelter and support, and together, we will create a haven of love and understanding, where we can always find solace and rejuvenation.
Desde este día en adelante, caminaremos juntos por el sendero de la vida, enfrentando los desafíos con valentía y compartiendo las risas y los sueños. Mi amor por ti trasciende las palabras y se manifiesta en cada gesto, en cada mirada, y en cada latido de mi corazón."
(From this day forward, we will walk the path of life together, facing challenges with courage and sharing laughter and dreams. My love for you transcends words and is manifested in every gesture, in every look, and in every beat of my heart.)
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Rudy
Rodolfo was ready for a celebration but wanted to keep it intimate to your closest family and friends, and of course, Los Vaqueros as well. You both chose a beautiful wedding venue next to the beach, having the white decorations tied into the beautiful white sand and blue ocean water.
Exchanging Las Arras matrimoniales proved to be heartwarming as the priest and los padrinos y madrinas made sure you felt the love as you became a Parra, a member of their family. You were surprised as Rudy managed to only have his eyes water during his vows but his voice wavered, and he had to clear his throat multiple times while reading them aloud.
That didn’t stop his voice from showing his conviction and devotion; entering the reception, Rudy placed you on a lone chair in the middle of the dance floor and lined up with his men and a mariachi band. Under the sunset, he serenaded you. His voice rang out richly and perfectly, causing tears to stream down your face as your hand laid over your heart to try and keep it still.
Vows:
“Mi Cielo, your presence in my life has been like a symphony, each note perfectly harmonizing with the next. Together, we have created a melody that resonates deep within me. You have become my muse, my inspiration, and the beat of my soul.
Mi Corazón, prometo nutrir nuestro amor como una flor delicada, cuidándolo con cuidado y devoción. Así como un compositor cultiva su obra maestra, yo me haré cargo de nuestro amor, colmándolo de cariño, comprensión y respeto. Nuestro amor florecerá, irradiando su belleza al mundo. (My Heart, I promise to nourish our love like a delicate flower, tending to it with care and devotion. Just as a composer cultivates his masterpiece, I will take charge of our love, showering it with affection, understanding and respect. Our love will blossom, radiating its beauty to the world.)
Our love is a masterpiece, and I promise to protect it with all my being. As we embark on this journey together, I vow to always walk beside you, hand in hand, navigating the twists and turns that life may bring. Our love will be the melody that carries us through, and with you by my side, I am confident that we can conquer anything. En este día y todos los días venideros, me comprometo a amarte con cada fibra de mi ser. (On this day and every day to come, I commit to loving you with every fiber of my being.)
Our love is a melody that sings of devotion and commitment, and I am honored to be the one who shares this beautiful symphony with you.”
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König
While planning your wedding, König asked for a deal between you two for the ceremony. If you granted him a private elopement, he would deliver the wedding of your dreams. Deliver he did, as he picked a literal castle for your venue. An enchanting and historic architecture with plants adding to the mystical feel, he made you feel as decadent as two rulers who are together forever more and uniting two kingdoms.
He chose to speak his vows privately to you, with a camera pointed towards you to watch as you both had tears running down your faces at the words spoken softer than any feeling your heart has ever felt before. However, he knew that a party was needed to celebrate your love, so the reception was held in a ballroom that overlooked the forest.
As a man who values his heritage, you and König had a private ‘Brautraub’ where you hid within the castle, waiting for him to figuratively seek and kidnap you as a symbol of starting a new portion of your life with him as he (literally) swept you off your feet and into his arms.
Vows:
"Mein Schätz, our love is vital as the bond between two rulers has created a kingdom of love and unity that reigns within our souls. You are the crown of my life, the sun that illuminates my kingdom. With you, I have experienced the true meaning of love and devotion as you have captured my heart, forever I will honor and protect you, as you are my guiding star that will lead me to my heaven.
Mein Liebling, ich gelobe, unsere Liebe wie ein kostbares Juwel zu hegen und sie mit Hingabe und Aufmerksamkeit zu pflegen. Ich gelobe, unsere Liebe immer zu nähren und sie stärker zu machen als einen funkelnden Diamanten, denn niemand wird jemals meine Hingabe an Dich schmälern. (My darling, I vow to cherish our love like a precious jewel and to nurture it with devotion and attention. I vow to always nourish our love and make it stronger than a sparkling diamond, for no one will ever diminish my devotion to you.)
Meine Sonne und Sterne, I vow to cherish and nurture our bond with tenderness and care. Like a king protects his kingdom, I will guard our love fiercely, shielding it from harm. Our love will stand as a beacon of hope, one that is a testament of royalty, radiating its warmth and beauty to all who witness its majestic journey. Ich liebe dich für immer.”
(Meine Sonne und Sterne = My Sun and my Stars. Ich liebe dich für immer = I love you, forever.)
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
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Gojo's and (y/n)'s daughter buying a prom dress for her because she never had one
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Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader; daughter x reader
Word Count: 1,5k
Synopsis: When you told your little one about the fact that you never got to wear a prom dress, it was clear for your husband and daughter they needed to change that for your birthday.
Warnings: fluff overload, Gojo and daughter are sweetheart, obviously reader wasn't able to afford a prom dress back then so if you get triggered by a rough past don't read, tell me what you thiiiink 🤍
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„I can’t wait to wear one of them!“
You follow the tiny index finger of your 4 year old daughter, darting directly into the store window you already stopped by countless times. Gently you rub her head, get lost in the eyes that remind you so much of your loving husband.
“Which one do you like best, huh?”
“What a hard question…”, she mutters, eyes fixated on the countless dresses displayed.
It is indeed. Would you rather wear the tight black dress with a breathtakingly beautiful back? Or what about that princess dress in the front with the glittery sleeves? Oh, how much you’d love to just get in there and try all of them on, feel like a princess once again. While you did get the chance to wear something beautiful on your wedding day, you were never able to do so as a teen by actually wearing a prom dress.
“Did your prom dress look like one of these?”
You can’t supress the silent sting in your heart and bittersweet smile creeping up your face.
“I never had a prom dress, honey”, you explain gently.
The face of your daughter drops immediately, brain visibly running hot by the sheer thought of you not having a prom dress.
Despite your good financial situation now that you’ve worked hard for, you weren’t that lucky when you were young. A prom dress is expensive, a luxury not everyone is able to afford. And that everyone was your family.
“But why?”, your daughter cries out.
You kneel down to meet her eye to eye, fighting for your composure. It might be silly, but you always longed to wear a beautiful dress to a ball, to feel like a princess for a night. When apart from your prom and wedding do you even have an excuse for something like that? You missed that chance, it shouldn’t bother you-
But it kind of does.
“You know, when I grew up, my parents didn’t have as much many as your daddy and I have now. A prom dress is really expensive and not as important as paying rent and something to eat.”
“But weren’t you sad?”
“I was. And it still makes me sad”, you admit.
“But it’s okay not to get everything you want, it’s okay to cut back. And it heals me to know that I’ll buy my little princess the prettiest prom dress ever.”
With a swift motion, you pull her body closer to yours and rub your nose against hers the way it always makes her giggle.
Yes, after all, you have a family now. And that is worth way more than a prom dress.
-Later that evening-
“Okay young lady, time to go to bed”, Satoru announces playfully after giving you a kiss on the cheek, lifting his child up with ease to carry her into her room followed by heartfelt laughter.
“Daddy, I need to talk to you in secret.”
Satoru tilts his head to the side, the sudden seriousness in his daughters’ eyes being so unknown to him.
“Got ya.”
With dramatically silent steps he closes the door behind him and returns to his daughters’ bed, raising his eyebrows to show her he’s listening.
“Mommy and I walked past a shop today and she told me she never wore a prom dress!”
“Oh, really? She didn’t even tell me about that”, Satoru replies with the same outrage in his voice.
“And she looked…sad. So I thought I could buy Mommy a prom dress for her birthday to make her feel better.”
It takes all of his strength to not melt away in an instant. What a little angel is daughter is, how sweet of her to even consider something like this even though she’s only 4 years old. Oh, how much he’d love to see you in a gorgeous gown as well, maybe even take it off after your birthday...
“What a great idea kiddo! Okay, let’s make a plan. How should we call it?”
“Operation enchanting elegance!”
“Okay, well…I wanted to say operation prom dress but that sounds better I guess”, Satoru replies.
“Hear me out: Tomorrow when Mommy’s at work, we’ll sneak into that shop and you’ll pick the dress for her.”
“Deal!”
-your birthday-
“Mommy, Mommy! You need to wake up, it’s your birthday.”
“She’s right, you have to wake up babe”, the oh so familiar voice of Satoru purrs against your ear.
So you really have no chance, huh? Slowly your lids flutter open, a bright smile already plastered on your face.
And get greeted by your daughter and husband dressed in matching unicorn jumpsuits, holding the tackiest cake in their hands you’ve ever seen. Oh god.
“You guys…”, you giggle out, on the brink of losing your composure completely.
You definitely do when both of them begin to sing a very wrong sounding happy birthday. How is it even possible that your very own child heals your inner one? Those outrageous birthday parties, the endless affection you never knew. Warmth radiates from your heart all over your body, your glossy orbs catching the gaze of your already staring husband.
It’s because of him. The man who came into your life so unexpectedly, the man who swept you off your feet before you even knew how powerful he is. Satoru is your best friend, your partner in crime, your safe space. And most importantly he is the love of your life, the father of your daughter, your husband.
And nothing will ever be greater than this.
“Quiet now daddy, I’ll give Mommy her present!”
“Honey, I told you over and over you don’t have to get me something. You’re my greatest present.”
“After me”, Satoru mumbles with a sly grin, his hand gently caressing your cheek while your daughter drags the biggest box you’ve ever seen behind her.
“I love you babe.”
“I love you more”, you reply, pulling him down into a passionate kiss.
God, how much you love that man. Despite all the things he’s been through, despite all the responsivity his broad shoulders hold, Satoru never misses to show you his affection even though you’ve been together for so long now. He makes you feel loved, makes you feel special like on day one.
Not only on your birthday.
“Open it! Open it!”
“Wow, this is pretty heavy”, you comment in utter surprise.
What on earth is in there?
“Open it”, your husband begins to demand as well, his eyes glowing like the ones of his tiny daughter next to him.
These two…What are they up to again? Is it a prank gift, one of those strange souvenirs Satoru loves to bring you from his missions? Or is it something disgusting, like the ran-over rat she gifted you last time?
You open the box, ready to be greeted by literally anything.
But not by a gorgeous gown.
“You can’t be serious”, you breathe out.
What a nice glittery fabric, you never felt something this soft in your entire life. With a swift motion you get out of bed, pulling the dress out in order to see it in its full glory. This is everything you ever imagined, the one dress that caught your eye in that one show window every single time.
The show windows.
“You really bought me a prom dress?”, you cry out.
You don’t care about how pathetic you must look now. This gown is gorgeous, way better than anything you could have worn back then.
“You said you never wore a prom dress so I needed to buy you one”, your daughter explains proudly.
There is no time to waste. Faster than she’s able to react you kneel down in front of her, devouring her body with yours.
“You’re an angel my baby”, you mumble into her soft hair while she grabs your face gently and wipes your falling tears away.
“No, I’m your daughter Mommy!”
“Now try it on, Momma.”
“You are the best husband ever, Satoru…”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Now come on, show us that dress!”
“Yes Mommy, show us the dress!”
You suddenly feel so overwhelmingly special. Wearing a gorgeous gown in your bedroom, surrounded by your husband and daughter cheering for you. Is this really your life? If it’s a dream you never want to wake up again.
“You really look like a princess”, your daughter shouts in excitement, clapping into her little hands.
You can’t help but stretch out your arms, embrace her into a tight hug again. Oh, you truly don’t deserve your precious little family, you don’t deserve all the things they do for you.
“I love you…”
“…to the moon and back”, your daughter ends your sentence like she always does.
“You look pretty hot, babe…”, Satoru purrs in front of you, his eyes darken just the way you love it.
“Wait until evening.”
Bonus:
"How much money do you have?", Gojo questions while standing in front of the checkout.
"I've got...This two coins!"
"Those are 2 cents...You know we can't afford a dress from that, right?"
"That's why I take you with me Daddy!"
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Tags: @waffledeath @zeyzeys-stuff @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva@kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san@deezy12299@busyreader17
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joekeeryswife · 4 months
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arranged marriage 2 - f.c
hello angels! oh my goodness thank you all so much for the love in the last chapter, i cannot express how grateful i am to all of you! Felix is 22 and reader is 20.
here is chapter 2 (there may only be 1 or two chapters left 😔) of my short series! here is y/ns ring, if you don’t like it you can change it, there is also going to be a link to a few dresses and again if you don’t like them you can change it!! there will probably be some mistakes so bare with me lol, enjoy reading🩰
taglist🩰 (add yourselves here): @hummusxx @lalademie @kikiandbella @anamiad00msday @saltburntt @livvy256 @gee72sstuff @edogiscool @real-lana-del-rey @cel3stel0v3r
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it had been almost three months since your engagement party and a lot had changed. you and Felix were not getting along at all. your parents had thought it was best if the two of you moved in together and it had been the worst decision they had ever made. all you would do was fight and argue.
today, luckily, your mum, Elspeth and Venetia had decided that it was best for you to start trying on wedding dresses which meant you wouldn’t have to see Felix. “how are things with you and Felix going?” Elspeth asked, the three of you were sat in the back of the car almost at the wedding dress shop.
“not good. all we do is fight, i’m seriously considering not following through with this marriage” you rolled your eyes at the mere thought of Felix. “he’s being a dick head. sorry about him y/n, it’s like he’s on his period” Venetia apologised for how her brother was acting.
“oh no y/n don’t think like that, it’s just nerves. the two of you are going to have a very extravagant wedding and he gets nervous with those sorts of things” Elspeth said as she ran a hand through her hair. “it will get better i promise” she finished, showing you a sweet smile.
“surely you’re excited to try some dresses on? you might even find the one today” your mum finally spoke up. she loved the idea of you in a lovely white ballgown, walking up the isle arm linked with your fathers.
she had been dreaming about you getting married for years. “i hope so. how do you know if it’s the right dress for you?” you questioned, both women had been married and been through this exact same experience as you.
“you just have a gut feeling. i mean with me i had two dresses. i had one for the ceremony and then one for the party, god i wish i could relieve my wedding. it was the happiest day of my life” Elspeth said and your mum hummed, agreeing with what she had said.
“you’ll know if it’s the right dress, don’t worry about that sweetheart” your mum grabbed ahold of your hand and squeezed it gently. you nodded, giving her hand a squeeze back. “oh look, we are here” Elspeth said as the driver pulled up outside a fancy wedding boutique. “well, here goes nothing”.
-♡-
“oh that dress is ravishing” you heard Elspeth say as you looked at yourself in the mirror. “it’s elegant, fits your body nicely, you look beautiful. what do you think?” she continued as she looked at the dress. this was the fourth dress you had tried on and you were beginning to think that this bridal shop didn’t have anything for you. “well, it’s a pretty dress. but i think it’s a little too plain” you mum agreed “it is a little too plain. very pretty but you need some sort of design on there” Venetia nodded her head, indicating that it was time to try on yet another dress.
you walked back to the changing room with the stylist and she helped you get into the next dress. this one was beautiful, it looked like a princess dress and that was something you loved. however, the dress was still plain. you walked out and stood in front of the three of them, their gasps were loud. “oh my goodness, this dress looks absolutely perfect on you y/n” Venetia said as her eyes trailed over the dress.
“y/n, you look so beautiful sweetheart” your mum said as she looked at you in awe. “i love it but it’s still plain, i want some sort of pattern on the fabric. i love the way the dress is and i would have picked it if it had a pattern” you said as your hands brushed over the dresses skirt. your bridal stylist Amy spoke up “you do look gorgeous in this dress style but i think i have one similar to this with a pattern. why don’t you go to the dressing room and i’ll bring it through?” you nodded, a smile appearing on your face.
you made your way to the dressing room filled with nerves and excitement. hearing that she had a dress similar to this made your heart beat fast. after a few minutes she came into the dressing room with the most perfect dress you’d ever seen. it was exactly what you wanted.
she helped you put the dress on and your heart fluttered, this was your dress. you walked back out your mums eyes filled with tears and both Elspeth and Venetia gasped, i’m awe of how beautiful you looked. “y/n i seriously have no words. you look so radiant and elegant, i am praying that you have picked this dress” your mum said, the dress was absolutely perfect.
“i can’t see any flaws in this dress, i think if i was to ever design my wedding dress this would be it” you turned to face the three of them, you’d never felt like this before. “that dress is just absolutely gorgeous. you look like a bride” although you were mad at Felix, you were excited to get married. not because you were marrying him but because you could party like no other in the most beautiful dress with your family and friends.
“i think my brother might fall in love with you when he sees you in this dress” Venetia somewhat joked, she knew her brother would at some point fall in love with you and this dress would make it 100x easier. “i think it’s time we buy this dress and go celebrate” Elspeth said which you all agreed too.
-♡-
you had been out all day and it was now 7 at night. you hadn’t heard from Felix at all and you were not looking forward to seeing him. you opened the door to your house. “Felix, are you home?” you called out but got no response. you walked round the house saw him sitting on the sofa watching the tv.
“hey” you spoke as you sat down on the sofa next to him, you put your bag next to you and sighed. it had been a long day and finally sitting down felt amazing. he ignored you, his eyes still fixated on the tv screen. “how’s your day been?” he shrugged at you and you sighed, rubbing your forehead in frustration. “we can’t live like this Felix. this is no life” you looked over at him.
“y/n, have you ever thought that maybe i don’t want to live here with you?” his tone didn’t shock you, he had been in a bad mood for weeks. “i’m sorry but this wasn’t my decision either. do you really think i want to live here when you’re in a bad mood all the time?” he was silent.
“maybe think that i’m trying to work this out for the sake of our parents and whatever this relationship is and you’re just throwing it back in my face” he stood up, his tall frame towering over you.
“y/n. this isn’t a relationship. we are being forced to marry each other” you stood up, you weren’t going to let him intimidate you. there was an uncomfortable distance between you both.
“what is your problem Felix? why is there such an issue with you marrying me. i get we don’t love each other but am i really that bad?” you hated to admit it but even though Felix had been awful to you, there was a part of you that was falling for him.
there was some days where he was okay and the two of you got along, having Felix be nice to you was what made you somewhat fall for him. “don’t try guilt trip me y/n. you hate me just as much as i hate you” he scoffed but you just shook your head.
“what? i have been nice to you since after that talk we had in the bathroom at the party. i’m sick of you blaming me for absolutely everything when i’m reality it’s you who is the problem. i don’t think you realise how you make me feel when you treat me like shit” you could feel yourself getting upset.
“don’t pretend like you really care. you never cared about how it made you feel before so what’s changed now?” you shook your head, embarrassed that you were even about to admit this.
“what do you think Felix?” he looked at your confused. “there has been some days where you’ve been so sweet and it’s hard for me to not catch feelings for you” his eyes widened and you looked down at the ground, way too embarrassed to even look at him.
you could feel your eyes welling up with tears of embarrassment and frustration at the fact you had just admitted to Felix, the one person you’d thought you’d hate for the rest of your life, that you had feelings for him. and you knew that he didn’t feel the same. you could tell by his energy when he was around you.
it was silent, it felt like an eternity waiting for him to say something. when you felt like you’d been standing there long enough you decided it was best for you to leave, you’d embarrassed yourself enough and you just wanted to be alone. you grabbed your bag and started walking away from Felix who was still trying to process everything you had just said.
“y/n wait, don’t leave” he noticed that you were heading for the front door and was quick to follow you. Felix was never good with expressing how he felt and spending this time with you, living with you, made him realise that he was falling for you and that scared him. he’d been in love once before and it ended horribly and he didn’t want the same thing to happen with you.
“i’m going to my parents house don’t follow me. i want to be alone” you continued walking and looked for your car keys in your bag, he could hear the waver in your voice as you tried your hardest to keep your tears at bay until you weee away from him.
Felix continued following you and when he was close enough he grabbed your arm and turned you to face him. in one quick motion Felix pressed his lips against yours. it took you by surprise, it was filled with passion and love.
you quickly kissed him back and dropped your bag on the floor. your arms found their way around his neck, pulling him in closer. you’d been in one relationship and had your fair share of kisses in the past but it was nothing like this.
he pulled away, both of you breathless “please don’t go. i’m sorry i upset you. i am just scared” his eyes looked deeply into yours and you felt your heart flutter. “i’m scared that one day you’re going to find someone better than me because let’s be honest we haven’t gotten along, well, ever” his cheeks flushed a bright shade of red as he confessed his feelings.
“at first i didn’t want to do this marriage but now, it’s all i can think about. i see us getting married, travelling together, having kids together and growing old together and i’ve never felt like this before” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, Felix Catton the one boy who truly hated was confessing his feelings for you.
“do you think maybe we could start over and try make this work? not like we did the last time in the toilets” you semi-joked which made him smile, you hated to admit it but his smile was beautiful.
“come on, let’s go back inside it’s freezing out here” he said, pulling away from your hold but he grasped your hand and squeezed it softly. “i can’t believe you dropped your birkin bag for me” you picked it up and looked it over. “you’re lucky, it has no marks on it. looks as good as the day i bought it”
the two of you made your way back inside hand in hand, happy that you both finally expressed your feelings for one another. the only thing left was for the two of you to get married.
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