#you copied my wedding country
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Sydcarmy/ClaireCarm x Kim K 'I got married in Italy/Andrea Bocelli’
‘You stole my [redacted] wedding country (pasta) and my wedding performer (Carmy), Andrea Bocelli (Carmen Berzatto) is my favorite male singer (chef) of all time’
Sydney was a little jellie and that’s fine, if you had to share your person you’d probably be too. It’s not her fault Carmy has been sending mixed signal. One minute he’s proposing businesses, the next he’s trying to ask her out then boom; ‘who’s Claire?’
#you copied my wedding country#and my wedding performer#tell Claire I said thank you then#iykyk lmao#sydcarmy#the bear#the bear edit#the bear fx#carmen berzatto#sydney adamu#carmen x sydney#sydney x carmy#charged and sexy#sydney x carmen
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The trophy boyfriend pt5.
In which Daniel Ricciardo and Kim YN are not done surprising the fans
or
In which Kim YN and her husband, Daniel Ricciardo allow the public to know of their children through media outlets
N.B: this is just something small I did for the fun of it tbh, hope you like it. And as always don't focus too much on the dates, they make no sense
PART 4
Liked by Danielricciardo, KimJeonwoo, and 1.3m other people.
Landonorris: my niece and nephew at the same age, 2 years apart.
Charles_leclerc: where is my godson 🤨
username: THEY HAVE A THIRD KID!
ussrname: well, obviously, Kim Jeonwoo was seen carrying a literal baby, these two can walk
ussrname: THESE TWO? pls, they are YN'S CHILDREN, PUT SOME RESPECT ON THEIR NAME
username: speaking of names, do you think they have korean or white names? Is it like korean first name and white second name?
username: I think they have both, like a lot of korean-mixed couples give 2 names for their children, however what i am curious about is the last name
username: ARE WE IGNORING THE FACT THAT CHARLES IS A GOD FATHER!! TO THE BABY OF THE KIM RICCIARDO FAMILY!!
Carlossainz55: my god daughter is the cutest 😍 also, why didn't you help her, can't you see her standing on her tippy toes to reach, do you want her to fall?!!
landonorris: shut up! You know it's making your heart melt, she looks so adorable trying to reach for stuff
carlossainz55: I see you have gotten braver over the break 😒
landonorris: no, it was just a spur of the moment thing, don't lock me in the bathroom again
danielricciardo: why have you not sent me these pictures!
landonorris: I have an entire album just dedicated to your kids, your phone literally has no storage!
danielricciardo: fine, I'll just give you my hard drive tomorrow to put a copy of every picture you have
landonorris: what do you mean tomorrow? I AM LITERALLY IN A DIFFERENT COUNTRY!
danielricciardo: yes, ik! The kids miss you and yn and I could use a babysitter
username: GOD I AM NOT OKAY
username: THE KIM RICCIARDO CHILDREN!
username: BABY GIRL KIM RICCIARDO HAS A GREAT FUCKING FASHION SENSE
username: it's so annoying that people are all like Kim- ricciardo, you can just say ricciardo I don't see the point of placing her family name first.
username: bitch pls, Daniel Ricciardo is the trophy husband here.
username: It's the Kim family's world and we all just live in it
username: YN KIM IS AN ICON, A LEGEND AND SHE IS THE MOMENT.
username: girl, they eating you up in the replies
username: oh to be a fly on the Kim Ricciardo House wall
username: SO ARE WE JUST NEVER GOING TO GET THE WEDDING PHOTOS
username: I honestly think that Daniel and YN filter all and every news that comes out about their family, like they hid their relationship for years and then no pictures of their wedding and no news of them until they felt it was okay to let the public know of their kids
username: well, yeah, that's the power of a chaebol.
username: I find it laughable that some people think that Yn and Daniel couldn't have hidden everything about themselves. Babes, YN and her family own like 40% of Seoul alone- and that's just their business in Seoul, let's not forget that they have international businesses- if they don't want you to know something you won't know it.
username: also the fact that they literally have family connections in politics and news outlets
username: I want to be their parent so bad but at the same time I want to be them! 😫
#f1 instagram au#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 social media au#f1 smau#f1#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x oc#daniel ricciardo parent au#carlos sainz social media au#sainz family#dad daniel ricciardo#korean oc
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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+
| Master List | Prev Part | Next Part
Word Count: 16.9k
Chapter contains: Wedding shenanigans, smut, meeting Hawkins characters, smut, regular kinks, public sex, and lazy writing where i didn't even look up countries to travel to for honeymoons. Also...a haircut... (don't hate me)
I barely got this done in time, and it's also unedited. My editor says she can do it and we'll replace the rough copy lol.
Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for always telling what they think and reading for it me first.
I just wanted to share some personal news. I'm 18 weeks pregnant, and I am always so fucking tired, so I apologize for posting a million things one week and nothing for months. The inspiration really comes and goes.
Anyways Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect your wedding to be so soon,” Skyler admits, in the middle of chewing on a salt and vinegar chip, some in her hand in queue to be chomped on next.
You keep your eyes on the movie playing snacking on a peanut M&M, watching Amanda Bynes’ truly unmatched comedic timing. “I am not spending a whole year of wedding planning,” you protest, throwing another chocolate into your mouth, “my mom is far too opinionated for me to be able to handle all of that fuss.”
“Well, you still need to find a dress…” Bethany points out, taking a hit off her vape pen. “And a caterer, someone to marry you, and a wedding photographer, decorate the venue—”
“We have invited close family and friends only.” You remind her, rolling her eyes. “If anything, the reception will turn into one big dance party. Hell, we’re ordering pizza. I don’t need a fairytale wedding. Having him has made my life a fairytale already.”
“Gross.” Skyler comments, sticking her tongue out at you playfully.
“I think it’s cute.” Bethany offers, grinning.
“Also, I might have already decided on a dress.” You hesitantly say, turning your head around and up at them to see their reactions. They collectively stop what they’re doing to scream at you for it. The gist of their uproar was mostly how they weren’t invited to the time you spent looking, but this dress was a happy accident by every definition.
“You found a dress?”
You shrug, pausing the movie so it’s not such a distraction for the conversation. “Yeah…”
The first time Eddie gave you his card and sent you to the mall for him, you were anxious about holding his money and only spent it on things he explicitly said he had wanted. The entire trip took about an hour, getting home and holding a few bags as you entered the front door. Eddie leapt from the couch, grinning wickedly as he met you in the kitchen. He held your hands as he smirked at you. “How was the shopping trip?”
“Good.” You answered, moving to your purse on the counter to hand him his card.
He put it in his wallet hurriedly, wanting to get back to you. “What’d you get?” He asks, starting to look through the bags.
“I found everything you asked for except for the socks, apparently they’re discontinued.” You answered, leaning onto the island counter.
Eddie’s face falters only the littlest bit, shrugging. “Damn, gonna have to find a new favourite pair then.” He looked through every bag one by one, seemingly looking for something he couldn’t find. “What’d you get?”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “Um, everything but the socks?”
Eddie’s face broke into laughter, hands snaking themselves around your waist. “Yes, baby, but what did you get for yourself?” His voice was so gentle, smiling at you fondly with a gorgeous lobsided smile on his face.
“Oh, um, nothing…” you answered, eyes flickering to the ground. “It’s your money.”
A hand made its way onto your cheek, intertwining his fingers in your hair. His lips landed on yours, taking your breath away with how dreamy and dizzy it made you feel. As he pulled apart, your knees were weak, mouth half open as you stared up at him in pure bewilderment. After you were able to catch your breath, you finally asked, “What was that about?”
He smiled at you tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re just so sweet, my love,” he muses, beautiful brown eyes roaming all over your face. “Sweetheart, you have a ring on your finger. If we’re about to get married, then my money is your money.”
A frown sat on your face, thinking over what he just told you, eyes fleeting all over his hardwood floor. “But…I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want—”
He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your chin to look up at him. “I know you don’t want it.” His other hooked around your back, pulling your body against his. “However, I do want to share it with you, just like I want to share everything else.”
You smiled at him, sighing as his hand caressed the swell of your cheek, leaning into it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m with you for any other reason than how much I love you.”
“And how hot you find me, hmm?” He teased, eyes half lidded.
You rolled your eyes playfully, hands petting the nape of his neck. “Of course.” Eddie gave you a big kiss, lips wrapping yours, making you feel only bliss. “So, if I take your card to Sephora and buy a palette I’d had my eye on, you wouldn’t protest?”
Eddie sighed, sticking his tongue out in his true fashion. “You could buy the whole damn store as long as you’re happy.”
You squinted at him, lips pursed as you assessed his gorgeous face. “…How much do you have in savings?”
He smiled, tilting his head playfully. “Enough.” He said, tilting his head and twisting his face comically. “Maybe not enough to buy the whole store, but enough to shop comfortably.”
With his blessing, you started to feel something like trophy wife on the occasional mall trip. Holding his black card as you swipe it unflinchingly at a large bill is so satisfactory as you see the glint of jealousy of the cashier’s eyes.
On your most recent outing, grabbing groceries and making stops at your favourite stores as you browsed, a little boutique in the corner of the mall caught your eye. You’ve never seen it before, a deserted area of the mall that has incredibly niche stores that mostly look like a storefront for a ring of some type. In the very corner is a sweet little boutique with hand made clothes, the kind of clothing one doesn’t come across very often anymore, all made with care with high quality fabric…but not at a designer price.
A dress with embroidered flowers around the skirt caught your eye in the window, and there were only cuter clothes. With several hangers of clothing on your hand, the corner the store comes into view, and the prettiest white dress you’ve ever seen came into view.
As soon as your size was in your grasp, you giddily ran off to the change room. As soon as the zipper is up, your eyes welled up in bridal glory.
All for 85 dollars. (Well, that’s not the whole bill, just the dress.)
Your eyes flicker back to your friends, shrugging. “It just happened.”
“How far is Hawkins, exactly?” Bethany asks, leaning on her elbow on her legs crossed.
“A few states away.” You answer, pressing play on the movie again.
“You’re only inviting close family, right?” Skyler asks.
“Yeah, and you guys and Steve’s family.”
Bethany tilts upside down on the couch, feet resting on the pillows as she watches the movie upside down. “I’m sorry, who’s Steve again?”
You roll your eyes. “Do you guys ever listen to what I say?” They shrug, looking at you expectantly. “He’s Eddie’s best friend.” Still, their looks are completely blank. “You remember the photo I showed you of Eddie? He was the one on the left.”
Their eyes both noticeably bug out of their sockets. “Oh, you lucky bitch.” Skyler chuckles, definitely remembering the one of the left.
You roll your eyes, again. “He’s happily married, you dicks.”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it” Bethany accuses, knowing you too well, if you had anything to say about it.
The hesitation says everything. “Okay, maybe once or twice.” You admit, avoiding their eyes. “But again, he is happily married, and frankly unrealistic. Plus, he might be my sister’s father-in-law,” you joke, mostly hoping there’s no truth behind it.
“Okay, this I gotta hear.” Bethany giggles, leaning in with much intrigue.
-
Hours later into the evening, your friends are taken off to their prospective life commitments. The living room is tidied up and the tv turned on to some background noise as you doom-scroll on your phone. Right on time, the front door to the house slams shut.
His hot breath and sweet kisses on your neck feels like home, titling your neck and humming happily as his arms wrap around your torso from behind the couch. “Hi, baby.”
“Hello, my love.” He greets. Your hand lands on his hair, petting his curls. “I gotta take a shower, then I’ll be right back.”
He bends your head on the back, giving you a deliciously upside down kiss. “Hurry fast.”
A usual shower for him doesn’t take too long, usually sporting sweats and a band tee as he comes back down the stairs twenty minutes later.
It’s only thirty minutes when your patience completely runs out, hopping up the stairs wondering if he fell asleep. He’s not in the room, or the bathroom, so you finally find him in the closet, squatting while he grabs something from one of the low storage shelves.
“Hey, Eddie—”
You forget the English language. Every word you’ve ever known is gone from your brain, nowhere to be seen. He uses his elbows to lean on his thighs, perched on his toes and smiles at your speechlessness.
“Surprised?” He asks, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.
You stare up at it, hand petting his scalp. “What did you do?”
He shrugs, spinning his hands in circles in his hair. “Needed a change.”
“That…that’s a big change.” You comment, noting the way his face looks without his hair framing it.
He grins, hand caressing your face sweetly. “What do you think?”
You wonder how you missed the razor with a hair clip on the counter. “I think we might have a problem…”
The panic in his eyes is subtle, but there. Clearly, he’s never had someone who loved him for him, and you’re excited to see his reaction. “Oh?” Eddie asks, doing his best to appear casual.
You smile, admiring the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck, even buzzed all the way to his scalp. “What the hell am I going to hold onto while you go down on me?” You ask, playfully scolding him.
He laughs, his face crumbling in relief. “We’ll figure it out, sweets.” He tugs you into his arms, arms gorgeously tough as he hugs you intensely. “Not the first time I’ve cut my hair, you know.” Eddie tells you, squatting back down to grab what he needed.
You’re honestly unsure if you’ve ever seen a picture of him with short hair, but then again, his social media doesn’t have many pictures of him. “Oh?”
Eddie grabs what he needed successfully, taking off into your shared bathroom. “Yeah, last time was when Dyl was like eight, or something.” Eddie answers, cleaning up the last strands of hair from the counter. How did you miss those?
“Needed a change, then, too?” You ask, now seeing where he placed his shed locks, the damn garbage.
Eddie tucks his lips in, tongue poking out between his lips. “Uh, not exactly.” He starts, hesitating. “Brooke sort of…demanded? I guess? That I cut my hair when long hair was apparently not really cool anymore.” He laughs, putting the razor away. “She wouldn’t let it go.”
Anger is useless, at this point, knowing that dumb bitch was just plain horrible to him. It still stings to know he had to deal with her, regardless. “She seems so lovely.”
Eddie laughs, taking your hand in his as he led you back out the bedroom and back down the stairs. “This time, at least I did it for myself.”
“I can’t lie,” you start, sitting nearly on his lap on the couch. “I will miss it, and our kids will be shocked when they see their dad had short hair in our wedding photos…but it’s hair. It grows back. I will always accept you for who you are, baby.”
Eddie doesn’t know which part to focus on more. He hopes you never fail to make him feel so loved, and honestly, he doubts you ever possibly could. But for the moment he focuses on the first part. “Our kids huh?” He asks as you lean back comfortably against his chest.
“Oh, hush, you know what I want from you.” You rebuke, smiling satisfied as you watch whatever is on TV.
His arm wrapped around you pulls you impossibly closer to him, still expecting the itch of his hair on your neck. “I know, my love. I want the same thing.”
“You get any calls for RSVPs, yet baby?” You ask, sighing happily.
“Steve called, everyone’ll be there, of course.” Eddie answers, grabbing the remote to switch channels.
“Oh, cool, I can’t wait to meet Jocelyn.” You say, still not having met his wife.
“I thought you’d be more excited to meet Eliza.”
“Oh, her, too.” You laugh, nodding. “She will be the cutest flower girl ever.”
Eddie kisses the top of your head, sighing happily as his cheek rests on it. “That, she will be.”
-
Eddie’s hands are intertwined with yours as he flies down the major highway, music blasting through his speakers as the wind sends your hair flying from the open windows. The prospect of flying versus driving to Hawkins was debated for a hot minute, but a long road trip with him was just too good to pass up. Several bags are in the back seat, packed for both the four days you’re spending in Hawkins, and the three weeks for the honeymoon.
He surprised you with a His and Hers matching set of bags, mouth quirked in a smile as he saw the embarrassment take over your face. He knew how excited you were to go take a trip to Cancun with him as newlyweds, and he did his best to make it clear the feeling is mutual.
But before you can take off on a flight with him, comes getting married.
Both your dress and his suit are in garment bags, something you’re all too thrilled for him to see, the prospect of him on the other side of the aisle filling you with a level anticipation you didn’t know was possible.
The trip is long, and you wonder how Steve was able to make it to your parents’ in such short notice, noting you’ll need to extend more gratitude to him. You had offered to drive, but Eddie had repeatedly denied you, insisting you’re his queen, and he planned on treating you like one.
What was that you had said earlier about living a fairy tale?
As you pulled into the small town, Eddie texts a few of his friends to let him know you had arrived safely. He pulls up to the one gas station in town, stretching his back out, walking into the convenient store to pay and take a leak.
When he comes back out of the station there’s an aura of amusement on his face, shaking his head. You meet him at the pump, eyebrow quirked to ask him what he was so smug about.
“He’s still alive.” Eddie chuckles as he puts the pump to start filling it up. He laughs again when your face twists into even more confusion. “Gus, the owner from when I was in high school, he’s still kickin’, and he’s still running the joint.” He pauses, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Probably out of pure spite, if anything.”
You kiss his cheek, petting at the curls now swirling in his hair. You still missed the length, but he looked good with short curls. “Wonder who else has surpassed those expectations.”
His eyes widen at the idea. “If Higgins is still principal…”
You smirk, having several stories about Higgins undeserved vendetta he held against Eddie, having once blackmailed him into dripping out. “God help the youth of Hawkins, Indiana.”
“I don’t blame Arlo for any of his sass in that case.”
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a text from your mother that she, Viti, your dad, and her had successfully landed in Indianapolis and are currently grabbing their rental. Thank god your mom is acting like a mother again after her brief mental psychosis.
For the first day in town, Eddie has a whole plan for you, refusing to tell you what he had planned. First, was the singular old folks’ home Hawkins hosted. The receptionist immediately recognizes Eddie, flickering to you with a twinkle in her eye. “Is this?” She asks, pointing to you covertly.
“Sure is.” He answers. “How is he?”
“Very excited.” She answers, placing a pen and paper on the counter in front of you. Eddie signs his name, and hands the pen for you to do the same. “Same room as always.”
Confused, you follow his lead down the hall the opposite way from the rec room where a group of elderly individuals were playing bingo. He’s petting your thumb with his, his eyes flickering between your eyes and the ground.
Is he nervous?
He finally stops at the door second to last on the left, labelled with the number 18. Three knocks on the door and there’s a gruff voice on the other side telling you to come on in. Eddie takes a deep breath and opens it, slowly walking into the room.
The door opens to an older, much older, man with a very thin patch of hair on his head facing the other direction, hands shuffling over a faded deck of cards, slowly categorizing them, supposedly a game of solitaire. Eddie lets go of your hand to approach him from behind, playfully humming, moving one of the cards over the old man’s shoulder. “There ya go.” Eddie says, gentle and smug.
“Christ, you always knew how to beat me.” He mutters, shaking his head. He lifts it to face Eddie, smiling ear to ear as he stands up slowly, relying on the table in front of him for stability. “Bout time you came back to town,” he jokes, tugging Eddie in for a hug.
You can see Eddie’s smile over his shoulder, observing the way Eddie relaxes in his hold. Eddie’s hands on his back are firm, gripping onto him for dear life. You’ve heard stories, only had an idea of how much his guardian meant to him, but from just the looks of this hug, it’s the kind of affection you suppose could only a parent could provide him.
Times like these you wished you knew him when he was younger, just to see more of these vulnerable moments.
Not that you want to cut their reunion short, but you need to get this introduction out of the way because it was the one you’re most nervous about. You clear your throat subtly, only to get their attention. Eddie’s eye’s abruptly open, meeting yours apologetically. “Sorry, sweets.” He says, pulling away from the hug. “Uh, Wayne this is—”
Wayne, the man who has picked up the slack from his deadbeat brother and runaway sister-in-law, turns to face you, smile on his face as he abruptly wraps you in his arms for a hug. “I don’t need an introduction to the woman who brought my son back to life.” He insists, squeezing you tight. You want to feel cocky about this statement, but all you can do is smile into his shoulder. It’s impossible that the affect you have on one another is the same, a lust for life you’ve never have before now ever present, looking forward to the future knowing that you’ll have him for as long as humanly possible.
It's just nice to hear from those who have known him his whole life.
Wayne finally lets you go, the smile lines ever present as he grins at you. “Well, I suppose you two still have a lot of work to do before Saturday, huh?”
You look at Eddie, shrugging in sync. The only thing there really is to do is set a few tables up for the reception and pick up some flowers from the local florist. A small wedding means little to do, especially with good friends in town insisting on helping tie the final pieces together.
“This one isn’t a bridezilla, is she?” Wayne jokes, winking at Eddie’s exasperated eyeroll.
“She could stand to be a bit more decisive, to be honest.” Eddie laughs, a lobsided smile.
To be fair, you just wanted to marry him, it really didn’t matter how the tables are laid out at the reception, or where you take the photos. He could’ve taken you to a courthouse and you would’ve been satisfied, but there is something so enticing about announcing to your close friends and family how much you love and plan to spend all your days with him.
Wayne and Eddie talk, Wayne telling the embarrassing stories you’ve been begging Steve to tell you, yet with no success. The pink blush on Eddie’s face is adorable, watching as he hopelessly protests the stories, but Wayne seems to be the only person out there who doesn’t get intimidated by Eddie’s stern voice. You wonder if the temptation to give the same energy next time you’re being berated by him will be too much to ignore.
Your favourite story that Wayne told you was the one where he was ten years old and attempted to mix his love of hard Metal and Dungeons and Dragons and turned on the song only to forget he had it turned all the way up the day before.
It resulted in snacks everywhere and one of his favourite figurines crashed as he stumbled across the room to try to turn his stereo down. Wayne even had some photos he keeps in a box on his dresser, handing one by one. The best set of photos were Eddie growing his hair, going from a kid with a buzz cut in the halls of a school displaying a rock signal to the camera to a jaded teenager refusing to smile for it.
Yeah, if you knew Eddie in high school you would’ve been down bad.
Eventually, Eddie stops protesting at the stories and just ends up defending the actions of a hormone-driven seventeen-year-old.
“You’re not expecting me to wear a suit, are you?” Wayne squints, leaning back onto the desk.
“Just wear something nice, will ya?” Eddie asks, an aura of affection for his lifelong guardian.
“Yeah, yeah.” Wayne dismisses him.
The nurse is sweet as you and Eddie sign out, Eddie requesting that they get him out of his room to socialize for once. She laughs, insisting that they do his best to get him out, but he is stubborn as he is old. Judging from his silver hair and the vibrant blue veins showing from his paper-thin skin, you can see where Eddie gets a lot of his personality from.
Eddie’s a silent sort of content as he drives down the main street, thumb caressing your hand with purpose and ease. He makes a turn, slowing at the end of the street at a sweet little yellow house. “Where you bringing us this time?”
“Still not telling.”
The front door opens to a woman with short curly hair, crossing her arms as soon as she sees who is on her front step. “Was wondering when you’d stop by.” She says, waving her hands to invite you in. “Come on in, Robin is over for the afternoon.”
“Hi, Wheeler.” Eddie greets her, tugging you in with him.
Oh, Nancy. You’ve heard little about her, only that her determination is scary.
“Yeah, come on in, you groomer.” Comes another voice, a little rough on the edges but said with love.
“Groomer?” Eddie asks, eyebrow tilting.
“You’re lucky that’s all I’m calling you.” Robin, sitting at a table with a cup of tea, playfully shoots back. “Marrying a girl half your age.”
“And like I’ve said on the phone, she’s been making as many of the decisions I have.” Eddie says, sounding tired. “Anyway, this is Robin, that’s Nancy.”
They toast their cups to you, observing how you and Eddie are with each other, his hand around your shoulders and your hand easily intertwined with his.
“They’re uh, they keep me in check.” Eddie laughs, gesturing to them.
“You cut your hair.” Nancy states, a smirk on her face. “Haven’t seen that in a few years.”
“Whatever, do you want to tell her or not?”
Turns out, Nancy and Robin been communicating and texting Bethany and Skyler for ideas on a bachelorette party for you. Your eyes are full of fear as you glance to them full of fear, scared of what they had planned.
Those eyes were a little too smug for comfort. “You haven’t told her anything about the uh… U.D, have you?” Robin asks softly as Nancy shows you a photo album as the friend group from years back. What a friend group to be in back in their heyday.
“Not quite yet.” Eddie shrugs, wondering how is it those faded memories can come back so quickly just because he’s in town.
“You ever plan to?”
“Probably. Won’t wait too long so she doesn’t think I’m senile.” Eddie jokes, but it falls flat.
“I think she can handle it.” Robin admits, now having spent a few hours with you. “Maybe skip the part where your heart stopped.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Probably.”
-
Eddie has made several more stops throughout the day, introducing the many colourful characters that flooded his hometown. Felt like right out of a storybook.
The one you most got along with turned out to be Dustin Henderson, the very same one who Steve’s third son is named after. Just from your first conversation surrounded by their goofiness, do you truly understand how dorky, how dramatic he really is. Dustin does have stories to tell you, less embarrassing, more dripped in his dramatic flair for life.
Dustin checks on the habits he still carries, does he still fidget with his fingers, does he tuck in his lips, has his patience gotten better.
Correction, Dustin is one other person you suppose Eddie can’t intimidate. You’ve seen many attempts only met with laughter. “Steve has a bachelor party planned for you, you know.”
You shoot Dustin a glare, charging on him. “There won’t be any strippers, right?”
Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops when you shoot a glare at him, giving you a meek smile. You fucking thought so.
“Don’t worry, Harrington has a death wish, but not that badly. It’s a meticulously planned out campaign.” Dustin chuckles elbowing you. “A few drinking games involved, but no models in bikinis.”
Suddenly Eddie’s in your ear, breath sending shivers down your body. “If you were to show up in a bikini, I wouldn’t protest.” Eddie whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek.
“Tempting, but I think I’ll wait until Cancun.” You answer, grinning cheekily at his widened eyes.
Eddie gets a text that night when you’re in the hotel room with him where the reception was to take place. Most of the wedding was completely figured out, the two of you are ready for a night in before the rush sets in for tomorrow, cuddled up under the blanket as he reluctantly watches one of your favourite romcoms.
His hand pets on your bare thigh, slowly making its way up, smirking at the way you tense under his touch, whimpering as you impatiently wait for him to finally touch you. His fingers finally, finally brushing under your panties and just seeing how wet you are when Eddie’s phone vibrates on the bed. “Don’t you dare.” You protest, clutching in his shirt.
“You’re not in any position to be making demands.” He chuckles, sliding to answer his phone.
You huff, head banging against the head rest.
“Make it fast, Harrington.” Eddie answers. You start to pay more attentive attention to the movie when his hand slips back under your panties. His finger moves easily along your folds, slowly working you. Eddie mutes his phone, “Be fucking quiet, got it?” You nod, forcefully taking a pillow and biting down on it. “Sorry, bud, what was that?”
Eddie listens, face crumbling in annoyance. “And we don’t get any say in this?” He asks, inserting his finger bast the barrier of your entrance. “Yeah, we’ll be an hour.”
Eddie hooks his finger, eyes raking down your body as your back arches in attempt to keep quiet.
“Because you caught us in the middle of something, Stevie.” He laughs starting to speed up. Something Steve says tugs a beautiful sound of laughter from his lips, hanging up and tossing the phone. “Take your panties off, we have an hour.”
You throw the pillow across the room, grinning as you take your panties and the shirt you’re wearing off.
When he slides into you, perfect and relentless, the words he whispers in your ear are how he can’t wait to marry you, how much he wants to see his girl in a pretty white dress just for him, and what a pretty girl he has.
The only words that leave your throat are about how much you love him, on repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you, Iloveyou.
Stubbornly, Steve demanded two of you made your way over as soon as possible. Eddie agrees, but really wishes he could stay with you when he sees the blissed-out expression you wear in the afterglow. Damn him.
You reluctantly go with him, half asleep as your head rests his shoulders when Steve finally opens the door. “Finally, you sluts!” Steve laughs, hand in his front pocket as he opens the door with the gusto only Steve Harrington really can. “Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time you get a haircut.”
You glare at him, rolling your eyes. “If we came all this way just for this, then I will see you tomorrow, Steve.”
“She has a point.” Eddie agrees, also ready to go back to the room and forget you were asked.
“Chill out you two.” Steve insists, “c’mon.”
Well, Steve is one hell of a schemer, because as soon as you reach the living room everyone (and then some) jumps out from their hiding places, a big ass surprise party.
Like the two of you weren’t already having a big party in two days, but this is a large reminder of how loved you are.
This thankfully gave you a chance to mingle with the rest of the Harringtons, Eliza regretfully already asleep upstairs. Immediately, you see the connection between Nicky and Dylan and how much they get along far more than Dylan ever did with Arlo.
Arlo and Viti are mingling a little too close for comfort, her back leaning against the counter as his hand is placed right next to her, nodding as what ever she says is apparently agreeable. Whatever Arlo is planning, he’d better stop that shit.
Jocelyn Harrington is the perfect ying to Steve’s yang, perfectly balancing out his chaotic personality and keeping him in check only the way she can. You ask her to keep an eye out for Arlo, something she promises that she’s tried to do many times in the past, in fact, this his him tamed.
You finally learn who you’ve hired to take the wedding photos, a boy you’ve only spoken to over the phone from Steve’s recommendation. He’s…Nancy’s, ex’s, son, Jeremy Byers, who has apparently picked up his dad’s hobby in photography and, like his father, turned it into something that can pay the bills. His dad is freakishly just like him, sweet and unassuming. What is it with genes in this town? Everyone just copies and pastes.
Somehow, Steve managed to get your parents to show up, somehow finally warming up to Eddie. Still, she’s on thin ice for ever having insulted him to begin with. Apparently, Nancy does remember your mom, having been on the newspaper with her.
Your mom was on the newspaper?
The night is spent laughing in Steve’s massive living room, the air filled with anticipation and pure excitement, actually glad you were forced out of bed. The doorbell rings, opening to face your two best friends as they squeal and wrap you in a hug and everything is right in the world.
Maybe your mom could stop flirting with Steve, though.
-
Finally, you stumbled into the Hotel room at 3am, giggling together as he falls on the bed on top of you. His hand snakes his way under your skirt, tugging them down fast, the sound of him undoing his belt driving you crazy as you giddily and hurriedly help him with his shirt. He’s been teasing you all night, his lush lips wrapping yours and wandering hands making you want to pull him into one of the bathrooms.
The pure want in you right now when you know you’re about to make Eddie your husband is coursing through your body is excessive. There’s a looming question, will you be able to hold back during your wedding? Answer is a definite no, but you’re trying to trick yourself into believing that you will.
His bare skin against yours as he ruts against you is everything, yet even after every orgasm you want more, crave more of him more than you ever thought was possible. You’re extra greedy that night, holding him closer, begging him for more, more, more. His words are a sweet mixture of worship, praise, and just a little bit of degradation. My girl, my sweet love, taking me so well, your sweet cunt, greedy little slut.
You fall asleep with your legs wrapped around his waist, sleepily exchanging sweet nothings in one another’s ear, the rest of the world dissolved completely.
The vibrations of your phone don’t wake you up, but it certainly alerts you to the following vibrations of Eddie’s. The phones didn’t even make it to your chargers, sitting in the mess of clothing on the carpeted hotel floor. Eddie’s body is partially on yours, wrapped in his musk as you stretch, taking in the reflection of the sun on the roof. “Eddie.” You moan, stretching your limbs as you attempt to reach off the king-sized bed. “Phone.”
Another phone is buzzing, somebody clearly relentless in their effort to get a hold of you. Eddie hums, head twisting only the littlest bit in your neck. “Too…too bad.” You slowly crawl out of his hold, rolling towards the scattered pile of clothing. Just when you think you’re successful, Eddie’s strong bicep effortlessly pulls you back, tightening his grip on you. “Stay.”
The sound erupts again. “You don’t think that could be important?” You ask, finger gently trailing along the skin of his back.
His shoulders shrug, lips starting to trail kisses along your neck. “Don’t care.” He mumbles, hands moving across your skin. You can feel his enthusiasm against your leg, tugging him down against you. “Waking up to your beautiful face, gorgeous fucking body, you think I care about anything else?”
When he puts it like that, you suppose you really can’t say no to him, especially when his voice is luring you in like so. You hum, starting to see his point as the buzzing fades into the background. “Then get to it, will ya?” You ask him, hands intertwined in his short curls. As he pushes himself up on his hands, his eyes meet yours, grinning cheekily.
“Get to it, you say?” He asks, hands tugging on your hips your body meets his perfectly. “Somehow last night still left me unsatisfied.” He pushes into you slowly, not giving you any warning or bothering to prep you. As assumed, the slick from last night remains ever present along your folds, allowing Eddie to push in effortlessly. Your mouth opens wordlessly, meeting his eyes and drinking in the pure lust in them. “This pussy baby, you’re telling me I get this for the rest of my life? Am I that lucky?”
As always, he’s crazy to believe he’s the lucky one. “Whenever you want, Ed,” you tell him, fingers clawing up his back and mewling. “Faster, please, please, baby.”
“Pretty voice beggin for me.” Eddie mutters, still granting the wish. “Think your pussy can take more of daddy’s cum?” He asks, hands intertwined in your hair and thrusting harshly. “Thought I already filled it a bit last night.”
“Never enough, Ed.” You gasp, pulling his lips on yours. They’re lush and sweet, but the kiss turns dirty as his hands press harshly and fiercely. “Can never…never get enough.”
Eddie chuckles, curling himself into your neck. “You keep saying shit like this to me and I will never let you leave this room.” His hands slide themselves down to your wrists, sitting up as he pulls your arms down your torso. This position hits a new angle, the pleasure hitting a deeper spot than you knew possible.
“Who said I want to leave?” You laugh, his grip on your wrists tight enough to bruise.
Your legs wrangle themselves against his chest, feet flexing next to Eddie’s face, watching his half open mouth and gorgeous face. “Just what I wanted to hear, sweets.”
His hips are beautifully relentless, eventually turning you around in his grasp, your face hitting the pillow as his hips start impossibly faster. His hand grips itself in your hair, pulling your back against his chest, snaking from your hair back around your neck. “Listen to those sounds you make, love, so desperate for me.”
“What a pretty girl, taking my cock so fucking well.” His other hand clings itself onto your clit, circling it as his hot breaths gasp against your neck. “Feel that sweet pussy dripping all over me, you close, babygirl?”
“So close, Daddy.” You whine, neck stretching impossibly high as the pull in your stomach is strong and intense. His fingers move faster, driving you towards that high more and more. “Oh, my god, Ed.”
Your pussy flutters around him, eyes twitching shut and whining in his hold as his hips never let up. As you just start to come down from it, there’s a loud knock on the door. You fall forward, whining as Eddie doesn’t let up. The knock comes again, faster and louder this time. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind them, and frankly, neither do you, listening to him as his groans grow deeper and longer, reaching backward frantically for his hands. “Gonna fill you up, love.”
The knocks are now rapid, never ending and stubborn.
“One fucking minute!” Eddie yells, voice harsh and aggravated.
Now the voice that’s been shouting is clear who it is, Steve apparently having no patience as he shouts in anger.
You feel him rut a final time, bending over you as he gasps desperately into your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Hurry up, I’ve been calling you guys for an hour!” He yells, you can practically hear his hands placed on his hips.
“You want me to open the door naked?” Eddie asks, grabbing the pair of pants he tossed onto the ground last night.
“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Steve asks, a hint amusement in his voice.
Eddie opens the door, rolling his eyes as he leads him in. You lie under the covers, not caring about the lack of clothing you wear. “What?”
“Oh lord.” Steve grunts once he sees your relaxed posture on the bed, scrolling through your phone.
“I’m sorry, did you not know what you were walking in on? Your ears have mysteriously vanished from your head?” You ask, a half smirk placed on your face at his hand exaggeratedly hiding you with his hand.
“I at least figured you’d have clothes on,” Steve grumbles back, crossing his arms. “I’ve been calling you two for the last hour, we have shit to do before the parties tonight.”
“Parties?” Eddie asks, slipping his shirt on.
“Yes, parties. Hurry, you two.” Steve demands, clapping his hands repeatedly. You stare up at him blankly, still half paying attention to the videos on your phone. “Well?”
You blink at him, stunned. Wasn’t this wedding supposed to be easy? “Get out!” Point angrily to the door of the room.
“I want you two in the lobby in five minutes. We got shit to do.” Steve demands, letting the hotel door slam behind him.
You glance to your fiancé, leaning on your elbow cheekily. “Wanna fuck me again?”
To be honest, Eddie’s jeans were back around his ankles before you even finished the sentence.
-
The feeling of shamelessness as the elevator opens to the lobby fifteen minutes later is refreshing, sporting kiss bruised lips and tussled hair as you cheekily greet him.
Steve looks tired, sitting in a chair in the lobby scrolling through his phone leaning on one elbow. “I should’ve known way better.”
Admittedly, Steve was right. Despite the size of your wedding there was still a stupid amount to do before the Wedding takes place the next day. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably would’ve stayed in bed all day until the realization kicks in. Maybe being as much in love with Eddie as you are is both your saving grace and your downfall.
Steve acts like a wedding planner. You thought your mom is bad, turns out she’s got nothing on Steve Harrington with a goal and a vision.
Flowers picked up, hair stylist and makeup artist booked, the church confirmed, all the t’s crossed and the I’s dotted.
When you’re sitting with Eddie and Steve on the living room couch at the early evening, Jocelyn opens the door, walking in with her daughter running in like a little tornado, her little curls bouncing with every step. Her voice is to the brim with giggles, running up to Steve with glee.
“Daddy!” She yells, hopping into his arms as he catches her effortlessly. Eliza is somehow even cuter in person than she is in any photo you’ve ever seen of her.
Steve hugs her tightly, petting her back like the gentle parent he is. “You see who’s here, yet, Liz?” He asks, nodding towards Eddie and you.
Eliza abruptly leaves his hold, switching her bright green eyes to Eddie. “Uncle Eddie?” She jumps straight for him, forcing the one arm behind you to wrap around her.
“Hello, sweetheart.” He greets, your eyes meeting his over her shoulder. Seeing him talk about her animatedly is one thing, but watching him melt as soon as she’s in his grasp sets your ovaries on fire. “Are you excited to be a flower girl for us?”
Her eyes flicker to yours, shyly smiling, as if remembering there was someone for her uncle Eddie to get married to. “That’s the lady?”
He laughs, hearts in his eyes never leaving as he glances over. “Yep.”
Eliza looks back to him ‘whispering’ in his ear, “She’s pretty.”
Eddie chuckles and places his hand by her ear, pretending to whisper back, “I know, it’s why I’m marrying her.”
The glare you want to give him is drowned out by the warmth that floods your entire body. “You two sharing secrets over there?” You squint your eye, pretending to be suspicious of them.
Eliza giggles, hiding in her hands. “No!”
“Then why are you whispering?” You demand, leaning in.
“We’re not!” Eliza giggles, kicking her feet as she tumbles off the couch.
“If you’re lying, I think a monster is going to come chase you,” you warn her, shaking your head exasperatedly.
Her eyes go bug wide, scared only as a four-year-old can be of a monster coming after her. “N-no, we weren’t whispering!”
You nod at her, smirking at Eddie, hoping it gets the point across. “Uh, oh, Eliza, I see a monster!”
Eddie catches on, dramatically crouching as he bares his teeth and pretends to growl. As soon as she hears it, she squeals, little footsteps taking off into the next room. You watch him run after her, suddenly completely forgetting that it wasn’t his idea to begin with.
How the hell have you just managed to fall for him even harder, you’ll never know. Maybe you want more than one with him.
You sit back comfortably on your chair, feeling completely relaxed from the sounds of their footsteps and giggles alone. Your head feels heavy falling over and suddenly facing Steve’s eyes already dead set on you. You’re startled out of your daze, head perking up quickly and hurriedly. “What?” Steve’s eyes flash up and down, making you feel a tad self conscious. “What?”
“What was that?” Steve asks, nodding towards where Eddie and Eliza are still running around, making loops around the house.
You shrug. “Just playing with your four year old?”
Steve tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. “When you two have kids, I think the world needs to watch out.”
“Kids?” You ask exasperated. “Who said anything about that?”
“You did. And him. And I know you’ve at least talked about it.” Steve answers, unwavering conviction in his voice. You’re speechless, playing with your nails as you avoid his eyes. “Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought.”
Once Eliza is put to sleep, you’re comfortably on Eddie’s lap as a knock on the door echoes through the house. Jocelyn gives a smirk as she opens the door, and a parade of shouts bursts through the door. The group of men that burst through it are all loud and jeering, their smiles too wide as their hands grab at the man beneath you, picking him up by any body part they can grab. He’s promptly lifted over their heads, all of them ignoring his shouts in protest and threats to dismember them if they don’t let go of him.
Not that you’re mad at Steve for throwing Eddie’s bachelor party onto him, just the opposite. A warning that the next time you’d be seeing him was at the altar would’ve been nice, though. You heard him shouting from the basement, a mixture of glee and anger. Steve gets up from the couch, making his way towards the door to the stairs.
You rush before he goes, blocking the way to the stairs. “Take care of him, won’t you?”
“I promise no lap dances from any of the strippers,” he vows, his face smirking at the glare that lands. “I’m kidding! It’s just drunk D&D, no strippers involved, I promise!”
You hit him on his shoulder, just a little done with his bullshit. “Better not be.”
“I mean if he starts stripping when we get to the tequila, I make no promises on stopping him.”
You stop Jocelyn who is just passing by. “You sure they’re over each other?”
She shrugs, knowing exactly what you mean from 25 years of dealing with the two of them. “Jury’s out on that one, I’m afraid,” she winks, petting Steve’s confused face.
“Make sure he gets there tomorrow on time,” you nod, patting his arm condescendingly.
“Right, a church in St. Louisville, right?” He asks. You hit him again, harsher. “Oh my god, sometimes you are so easy to piss off.”
You shoot one last glare. “For the moment, I think I have the right to be, you know? Sort of need him there on the other side of that aisle.”
“He’ll be there, he might be a bit hungover, but he’ll be there.”
“Alright. Now go downstairs, Harrington.” Steve startles you by tugging you into a hug, taking a moment in stunned silence before returning it. “Make sure he has fun.”
You sit down on the couch, listening to the crowd of men cheer as Steve finally gets to the bottom of the steps. Your head just hits the pillow on the couch when Jocelyn’s elbows land next to your hair, wearing a smirk you swear you’ve seen on Arlo before.
“Oh, you think you’re in the clear?” She asks, assessing the look on your face. “Come on in, ladies!”
Somehow when Eddie was picked up, you completely missed how there was a whole different group who followed in, sneaking their way into the kitchen. Now the very same ladies who organized the bachelorette party rushed in, grabbing your hands up from the couch as they all squeal in glee. You didn’t know where to look or what to say, surrounded by doting hands, both friends of yours and Eddie’s alike.
“Here,” no one in particular passes you a pretty dress, something you didn’t even pack for yourself. “Put this on, we’re going on a night out!”
“In Hawkins?” You ask, aware of the single dive bar that Eddie spent his nights working at.
They all let out a chorus of “no”, all explaining simultaneously that they rented a party bus and you’ll be travelling to the closest city that has one more than only one bar.
A tight dress, makeup that only other’s hands have put on you and a bit of pregaming, strobe lights are bumping and the bass is loud in while you’re surrounded by all of the hens. You’re extra surprised Nancy and Robin have also joined in on the fun, Robin’s voice scratchy in the speakers as she sings into the karaoke microphone. Your little sister is extra giddy that she was invited to join, too deep with number the drinks she’s already had.
You’re just glad she’s not with Arlo for the night.
To catch your breath about halfway into the trip you sit down, everyone following your lead with beads of sweat on their foreheads. The music is turned down eventually, all eyes on you.
“So, are you excited?” Skyler asks, poking your hip right next to you.
You nod shyly, a big smile taking over your face. “Of course!”
“Okay, so I just have to know, what’s the craziest thing you guys have ever done?” Bethany abruptly asks on the other side of you.
Your face twists into confusion, giving every pair of eyes staring at you exactly what was going on in your brain; what the hell is she talking about? “Crazy?” You ask, question her, wondering what they could possibly mean. “We really aren’t all that crazy.”
“Oh, come on.” Viti interrupts, crossing her arms as she sits on the seat directly across from you. “You know exactly what she’s talking about.” She wiggles her eyebrows, smirking.
“I happen to know his nickname the Freak is not just a name…” Nancy laughs. “If rumours from High School are anything to go by.”
Your jaw drops, laughing to compensate for the discomfort. “Why do you all want to know so badly?”
“Please.” Skyler protests, leaning forward on her elbow. “The way he looks at you? There is no possible way you guys don’t have crazy, or at least crazy good sex. Spill the beans.”
You ask for a shot glass, downing it straight away. Not that you want to entertain it, but just to protest, you’re gonna need to be a lot less sober than you are right now. “Assuming you are even close to being right,” you start, asking for another shot, “why the hell would I tell you guys?”
“Because our curiosity is peaked.” Viti explains, unwavering in the intense eye contact with you. “Spill.”
“Fine.” You give in, barely holding the laughter that bubbles out from your mouth at their joyful expressions. “Seems you guys are desperate to know, so I will tell you one little adventure. Just one.”
The music is turned down into a low melody, acting as a background when you tell the story of hooking up with him in the dressing room after just moving in with him. Their expressions are slack jawed, all on the edge of their seats as you describe the want and the adrenaline that rushes through you as your face is pushed up against the dressing room wall.
You end the story, laughing with the crowd at the circumstance in which you ended up meeting Steve Harrington. The bus stops, pulling up to the first bar for the evening. You get up easily, ignoring the way all eyes stare at you in bewilderment. “Well, you coming, or what? It is my bachelorette party!”
Robin is the first one to get up, laughter leaving her lips as she follows behind you. “C’mon, if we get her drunk enough, I’m sure that’s not the only story she’ll tell us!”
You wish you could answer the question of how you successfully made your way back into the bed of your hotel room, waking up next to the warm body that is your fiancé. The headache is splitting, waking up to the alarm on your phone that rings loud and clear. “Oh fuck.” You wince, checking the time. Luckily you still have time until your appointments, glad you opted for a later ceremony.
You go for the carry on that rests on top of your bags, knowing it holds extra strength pain killer. You take two, this hangover the worst you’ve ever felt. You refresh yourself in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and brushing your teeth.
You stumble back into the main room, greeted by Eddie sat up on the bed with a charmed look on his face. “How you doin,’” he asks, seeming to know more than he let on.
“My head hurts,” you whine, crawling into bed and wriggling your way in his arms.
“With how drunk you were last night, sweets, I bet it does,” he laughs, remembering the way he was barely unable understand the slurred words that came from your mouth. “You were so sweet, my love, and a very sloppy kisser, might I add.”
You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, the feeling getting worse as you hear his deep chuckles. “What did you see?”
Eddie is in his hotel room by 1:30, the night wrapped up early after too many rounds of shots and a rush of nostalgia from even some of the original Hellfire members joining in on the fun. They weren’t going to the wedding, but they had more than enough fun in making fun of him.
At 3:00, a few light knocks interrupt his late-night rerun. He was already yawning, his age setting in, but still waiting up for you. Through the peep hole, he sees your two best friends holding you by the arms, your eyes half open as your head sways. “Jesus,” he mumbles, rushing to unlock the chain and door lock. He opens the door with wide eyes, facing his fiancée who is giggling and hanging off her two best friends.
“Oh, thank God.” Skyler mutters, praising when Eddie opened the door. “Here, take your wife.”
You stumble forward into his arms, giggling madly when your face sees his. “You’re pretty.”
“Hi, sweets,” Eddie greets you, struggling to hold you up as your legs wriggle under him. “Have fun?”
You nod, wide smile on your face. “Kiss me.” Eddie is overtaken by how much tongue you give to him, hands hurriedly grabbing at the shirt he’s wearing, attempting to take it off and assumingly forgetting about the audience you held in the hallway.
“Whoa, whoa, baby.” He unpeels your hands and stops them, pushing them down. “I think you’re a little too drunk for that, go lie down, I’ll be right there, yeah?”
You nod, slowly staggering towards the bed, landing in a starfish position right in the middle. “So, uh, thought you said you wouldn’t get her too drunk?”
If he wasn’t so concerned for your liver, he’d laugh at the way your friends’ eyes bug out of their skulls. “We tried, we really did, girl was a runaway with a credit card.”
“You didn’t think to take her card away?”
Bethany squeaks, happy for her friend, but never wanting to be on the other side of his protectiveness again. “Oh, we tried. Also, she told us some stories.”
Eddie is afraid he already knows what she means by stories. “Stories?”
“Mmmhmm. We went from begging for one to not being able to shut her up.” Skyler explains, smiling meekly at the end of her sentence.
“Remind me not to send her out on a girls’ night with you two, anymore.” Eddie sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need her having liver failure by the time she hits thirty.”
“I mean, it was probably the excitement and all…” Bethany tries to mend but gives up at Eddie’s glare. “We’ll pick her up at 9 for the hair appointment?”
“You do that.” Eddie scrunches his face. “Thanks for getting her back safe, but I am seriously concerned for your lack of self-preservation. Goodnight.”
He doesn’t let them respond, closing the door and locking up for emphasis.
He slowly helps you take the dress that fits you extremely well off, assisting you into a pair of pyjamas. When he tucks you in under the blankets, you grab onto his shirt, yanking him in for a kiss. “Want you.”
Eddie doesn’t need any elaboration, feeling the way your hips sloppily grinded up towards him. “I know, baby, but you are way too drunk.”
“Pretty please?” You ask, your voice and face desperate in your want.
He sighs, petting your face gently. “I can make you cum, if that would help my baby?”
You nod, mewling in agreement.
“Okay, just to help you fall asleep, yeah?” You nod again as his fingers slide their way into your soaked panties, working them as he watches you fall apart easily under him.
It took you less than a minute to cum, he didn’t even slide one in. Damn. He was actually looking forward to dipping in your wet heat. You thank him repeatedly, yawning as you turn over and fall asleep in seconds.
He then had a hard on to get rid of, somehow turned on at how even when your mind is foggy all you can do is want him.
He fell asleep with you clinging onto him like a koala bear.
Eddie switches his glance back to you, smirking at the worried expression you wear on your face. “That even when you’re incredibly inebriated, you still just want me.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “But, I did want to request that you don’t destroy your liver, I was very concerned for you.”
You peer up at him, taken aback by how much his eyes convey the same message. “Okay.” You plant a clean, sober kiss on his lips, humming when his hands pet your hair. “Only because I never want to wake up not knowing what I did ever again.”
Eddie laughs, wondering what those CCTV cameras must’ve looked like. “Hey, princess?”
“Hmm?”
“Guess what?”
You lie on his chest, petting the patchy hair there. “What?”
“We’re getting married today.”
You can’t help it, grinning madly at this sentence and the pride in his voice. Holy shit, you’re getting married today.
Only ten more minutes of pure bliss, sharing sweet kisses and exchanging words of excitement do you get before the cavalry arrives, both your bridesmaids and Eddie’s groomsmen storming the room together.
He kisses you fiercely as he’s shooed out the hotel room, not able to get enough in before he sees you in that dress. “Love you!”
The door is shut, but you shout it back anyway, suddenly the excitement and the joy of your day settling in.
Holy shit, you’re marrying Eddie Munson, today.
-
Since you called almost one month ago, the only hair salon in town has been booked for you and your bridesmaids until noon. The stylist is full of questions about how you met, how long you’ve been together, what he does for work, all things you’re more than happy to explain. You didn’t ask for much, only curls that braided into a crown at the base of your head, but you didn’t want to risk spending hours on it.
She leans in as soon as your hair is done, reaching your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror. “Correct me if I’m wrong, you’re the one marrying Eddie Munson, right?”
Your eyes bug, biting your lip. “Mmhm,” you confirm, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.
“Don’t worry, small town things.” She laughs, taking the cape off you. “Your makeup artist just got here, I’ll let her take care of you in this seat.”
You thank her graciously, appreciating the companionship and conversation she provided, despite the nerves really starting to set in.
Thanks to a string of emails shared between you and the makeup artist, she has a great idea of exactly what you’re wanting, a natural look with the smallest hint of smoke. You find yourself having déjà vu when she asks the same questions, naming the groom to boot. The repetition is oddly comforting, you’d even call it soothing.
“Alright just a finishing touch, and you are all…done!” She hands you a hand mirror, and you couldn’t have done it better if you tried.
No. Seriously. You’ve tried.
Your bridesmaids all get their make up done, too, the group sitting in a circle as they talk absolute nonsense. “Dude, you’re the chilliest bride ever, we don’t have to wear matching dresses and you paid for our hair and make up? To think Skyler thought you were gonna be a bridezilla!”
You quirk your eyebrow at Skyler, who was in the middle of getting her make up done. For free. “Sky?”
“Hey, you were the one who always wanted the fairytale wedding,” Skyler rebuttals, raising her hands up in surrender.
“I said that like, a year ago!” You protest, a little defensive.
Skyler laughs, loud enough to stop all the other conversations in the salon. “Babe, you said that the week before you met your groom!”
Your eyes roll, a little embarrassed from being called out. “Yeah, okay, so before I met someone, I’m willing to give up a fairytale wedding for?”
“I mean he would’ve given you one,” your sister peeps out, having been quiet this entire time. “Pretty sure you didn’t need to give it up.”
“You have any idea how long those weddings take to plan?” You ask crossing your arms in your seat. “I was not going to wait that long.”
“Down, girl.” Bethany laughs, the rest of the salon following suit.
As soon as the stupidly massive bill is paid with a card that bares a name you’ll soon share, you’re brought back to the hotel room.
All you asked from your bridesmaids that they dress in something that makes them feel comfortable, but not something they’d wear to a night out.
As soon as they’re all dressed, they surround you in a circle of love as they help you get into your dress. Not that it requires them to help you out, but the sentiment is certainly there. Just when you thought you looked great in the dress when you initially tried it on, it’s nothing with everything tied together. God forbid someone call you out for being weepy, but you couldn’t help it even if you tried.
“You ready, Miss. Bride?” Bethany, your maid of honour asks, petting your hair as she meets your eyes in the mirror.
“Nope.” You answer, without a lick of hesitation. “Yet at the same time, I have never been more ready.”
“Usually I would harp on you for being cheesy, but that was actually really touching,” Skyler admits. You promise to yourself you wouldn’t hold the mist in her eyes against her, (no matter how hard she makes it.)
Your heel lands on the pavement of the cement, getting out of the car Bethany and Skyler took to the church. In the entrance hall of the church you meet your parents and the groomsmen, Eddie tucked away so he can’t see him, or rather, he can’t see you.
As the groomsmen pair up with the bridesmaids, (Bethany blushing as her arms are wrapped around Steve’s), your dad’s hand lands on your shoulder, kind eyes behind his round classes peering at you. “You, ok, there?”
“I’m so nervous.”
He takes these words in, nodding in consideration. “What exactly are you nervous about?”
A rush of emotion takes over you, resisting the urge to glance down the aisle to where you know Eddie’s about to start making his way down any moment now. “How badly I want this.”
“Nothing else?” You nod your head, no reluctance in it. “Well, then all you have to do is start down that aisle.”
The music you picked, a cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love, starts at 3’clock on the dot, much to the way your heart flutters.
Steve approaches you, arm around Bethany’s. “I helped Eddie sneak through, he didn’t see a single thing, and he’s already on the opposite side of the aisle waiting for you.” You nod, your eyes apparently bug wide. “Breathe. If it helps, he’s been a wreck all day.”
That helps. That helps more than he knows. “Really?”
“It was kind of annoying, honestly.” Steve answers, face twisted up. “Well, we’re about to miss our cue in the song, see you there.”
“Uh huh,” you answer, warm under the kiss he plants on your cheek.
Arm in arm with Dylan, Skyler winks at you as she soon follows.
Did your sister really have to walk the aisle with Arlo?
Your dad’s arm hooks in yours, patting your hand comfortingly. “It’s time.”
But I can’t help…falling in love with you.
There’s only about 30 or so people in the pews, but even as they all stand with their eyes on you, you’re glad there’s so few. However as soon as your eyes meet his chocolate ones on the other end, you forget all the nerves, all the anxiety, all the worry.
First, your mouth curls into an involuntary smile. Not by any means of sadness, does your smile fade and turn to tears. A laugh bubbles from your chest, the mixture of tears and laughter confusing you. Maybe it has something to do with the tears that also reflect in his eyes, and the way you can’t look away from him, but you could swear there’s only the two of you in the church.
The two of you in the world, really.
There’s a squeeze on your arm, your dad reminding you he’s with you every step on the way, but your eyes are glued in place. The closer you get to him, the wider his smile grows, yours growing as a direct answer. A tear escapes, and escape in the sense that you’ve done your best to hold them back, mouthing I love you to him.
If he didn’t have as much pride as he does, you know he’d be just as weepy as you are.
Finally, you reach the end of the aisle. “I’m proud of you,” your dad whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Now, go get married.”
You finally exchange a smile with him, quickly embracing his hug. “Thanks, dad.”
You step up to the altar, eyes raking over the sea, or pond, of people in the pews. Eliza sits with her mom in the front seat, excitedly waving to a couple that only has eyes for one another.
Finally, your hands extend to hold his, switching back to face him. Oh, just when you thought he looked handsome, it turns out he gets impossibly more so when wearing a suit. A gorgeous, black suit, accentuating his slim hips and his hair loosely gelled down.
His eyes rake over you, eyes unable to stay in one place on you. “You look beautiful.” Eddie whispers, voice deep and breathless.
You sigh, another tear leaving your eye. “Unfairly handsome.”
“You been crying?” He asks, holding your face to wipe them away.
Your lean your head into his hand, closing your eyes in sweet relief. “You’ve been, too,” you sigh, noting the single tear streaked down his face.
The person you’ve chosen to marry you has no true significance, and Steve had initially suggested he do it, but who cared. However, the pastor has known Eddie since he was a teenager, more than happy to marry him to you.
His words fade into the background, a few verses about love and anecdote or two about it in his speech. Truthfully, nothing matters but his eyes on yours and the way his gaze makes you feel.
A chorus of laughter echoes through the church, catching your attention, finally. “Seems we you got back again.” When you both look at him confused, he chuckles deeply. “We understand you’ve written your own vows?” You look at one another, but there’s no hint of any shame. “Eddie, you may go first.”
“I wish that I know how much that one shower would change my life,” Eddie starts, his thumb rubbing over your fingers. “I got in, stressing about the shop, then I got downstairs, and I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Oh, fuck. “I have to be honest, I know you keep saying you’re lucky, but I really am the lucky one that you saw anything in this old schmuck. Everyday I have done nothing but the best to feel deserving of your love, to make sure you aren’t taken for granted.”
The tears that stream down your face are uncontrollable. “Sometimes I don’t think I have any right to feel any right to feel as protective or possessive over you as I am, until you surprise me by saying something that puts words in my mouth, the same ones I’d have been thinking all that time. To love this much and to be loved the same in return is a miracle that I will never take advantage of, my love. You will never feel taken advantage of, never worry about money or shelter, and never worry about my loyalty to you.
“I love you. I will never be ashamed of it, I will never ask more of you than you can give. You have already given me everything you have, whether I deserve it or not, and I will give you the same, every time. To be honest, I have marvelled over what to say to you, staring at a blank page. All I can say is that you will never doubt my love for you. Ever.”
God, your makeup must be completely ruined by now from the tears and the snot. Halfway through Bethany came in clutch, offering tissues from her brassiere. Your ears could’ve been tricking you, but you swear up and down there are sniffles echoing from the audience.
“Now that we all had a chance to collect our selves, our beautiful bride, your turn.” You nod, blinking in surprise when you notice there’s a wetness in his eyes, as well.
“That’s gonna be hard to follow,” you laugh, the witnesses laughing with you. “Eddie. My love. To say it is a miracle that I love you this much and you love me just as much is an understatement. It’s not just a miracle, it’s a dream come true. A dream I never knew I had. That day also started differently for me, in ways I still regret to this day,” you say, looking behind him to where Dylan stands. “You come downstairs with your wet hair and, well, you, and it is true more than I could describe that I did fall in love with you in that moment, too.” His tears aren’t as messy as yours was, but Steve comes in clutch with a tissue as well.
“Every day I’m with you, all other fears seem to fade and disappear. Nothing else matters, I can truly get through everything with you by my side. It’s no lie that I am outrageously attracted to you, but I don’t think anyone could blame me for it.” He laughs at this, rolling his eyes in dismissal. “It’s the only part of my attraction though, I will deny anyone that could even dare to insinuate otherwise. Until I met you, I never knew I could feel this loved, this happy or satisfied by anyone’s mere existence, alone.
With you, I am happy. Even when I’m not. With you, I am both protected and taken care of. The way you protect me, I will do the same. The way you take care of me, I will do the same. Your sweet selflessness will never be taken advantage of, in any such way. From the moment I saw you, Edward Munson, I knew. I will love you for the rest of my life.”
“Jesus Christ.” It wouldn’t have been too alien to guess that it was Eddie who said it, but the very sniffles and exclamation came from behind him, Steve using his suit jacket to wipe a tear away.
“You okay, bud?” Eddie asks, also using his tissue.
“Just marry the girl, already.”
“Well, we do have some papers to sign.” The pastor escorts you to where your legal papers sit, names written for everything except the date and final signitures.
Steve signs, followed by Bethany, both sporting shiny eyes. She winks her green eyes at you, handing you the pen. When you sign yours, Eddie places a kiss on your neck, sweet and gentle. When he signs his, your fingers cling to the silk material of his jacket.
“Well, I think you two have seemed to wait long enough. I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride.” Eddie doesn’t even bother waiting until the end of the sentence to grab your face and plant a kiss on your lips, knocking the air out from your lungs from the love that surrounds you. He doesn’t care about his audience, barely takes note of the applause that breaks out, kissing you in a way that you normally wouldn’t dare in front of your parents on a good day.
Who fucking cares, you’re announcing your love to the world, they’ll get over it.
The flashes of Jeremy Byer’s camera is in your face as you walk down the aisle of the church together, hand in hand with him, fingers nearly losing feeling in your fingers as he grips onto you tightly.
When you stop in the church corridor, all that can be felt is a sense of celebration. You did it. All you need to do now, is party. “Oh my god, finally.”
He chuckles, wrapping you in his arms. “Can I tell you something, love?” You nod, inhaling his sweet cologne. “The moment I saw you in this pretty dress I got rock hard.”
You lick your lips, eyeing him up and down. “You don’t think your words made me absolutely drenched, Ed?”
“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, kissing you sweetly again.
There wasn’t a moment to escape for a few hours, whisked off to an area surrounded by beautiful flowers and greenery to take pictures, surrounded by the wedding party. On the phone, all you communicated is that you needed someone to take pictures of the wedding party for portraits as well as individual shots of you and Eddie, and Jeremy was a complete gem.
As soon as the portraits are over, every portrait where you look in his eyes not feeling a hint of cheesiness or falsehood, you are to head back to the hotel conference room for a reception.
Traditional receptions usually hold a first dance, speeches, embarrassing moments, cake cutting ceremonies, etc. To be completely honest you don’t trust your best friend or his to make speeches that won’t embarrass the two of you completely. And rather than sit for dull speeches, you told Eddie all you wanted was to celebrate with him and a DJ playing all the songs the two of you love, the wild combination it is.
You told your dad you would dance with him for the song that would’ve been your father-daughter dance, but nearly no traditions kept up for the reception.
The hotel offered a few plates of entrees for your guests before the DJ announces you two as a married couple something you accepted with a small external deposit. Steve oversaw ordering 20 pizzas in varying flavours, the very thing you’ll be doing instead of cake or dinner.
You hold your new husband’s hand in excitement as the DJ announces your arrival, the first announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Munson to some dad-rock song that he personally requested.
Well, the only thing you really splurged on for the reception was the open bar.
You pet the curls at Eddie’s neck, swaying together to the first slow song that the DJ played. Your lips are already kiss-bruised from your long day spent kissing him, but it doesn’t possibly prevent you kissing him any more, every single one he gives you somehow making you dizzier than last.
“Baby.” He grunts, getting your attention. He nods behind you, gesturing to the left. You turn you head to face Arlo and Viti, her eyes shining bright as she stares up at him, dancing even slower than you were.
“I’m gonna have to accept that, aren’t I?” You say, noting the special way her face is cradled by his hand and the way she leans into it.
“Looks like it, sweets.” Eddie says, his eyes still on you when you look back to him.
You sigh, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Hey, I gotta get going, I’m getting exhausted.” You look over to face Wayne, grinning in his plaid and slacks.
“Of course, thanks for coming.” Eddie says, giving him a hug. “So glad you could meet her.”
“Are you kidding, Ed? With those vows? Next time I see you, you better warn me before you make me cry like that.” Wayne laughs winking. “I’m glad you two found each other.”
“Love you, Wayne.” You say, grabbing him in for a big hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”
Wayne hugs him, too, gripping onto him tightly. “Thanks for the open bar, you two.”
The way you surround yourself with your friends and family, dancing up and down as the music bumps, the lights down with strobe lights flashing. In the middle of it, Eddie starts kissing your neck hands roaming and making you feel everything.
Eddie tugs on your hand as he leads you to a crowded hallway, a dead end with nowhere to go to. Your back collides with the wall as he kisses you, feverously and deliciously hungry for you as you are for him. “Oh, sweet love, do you know how crazy you make me in that pretty dress?” His hands hurriedly make their way under the skirt of your dress, ruffling it up as he presses himself against you. “I have been mercilessly hard since the moment you started coming down that aisle, baby.”
“You gonna fuck me in the hallway, Eddie?” You ask, breathless, “Can’t hold back that badly?”
“From the moment I first kissed you, I haven’t been able to hold back from you, love. You think I can hold back when you drive me as crazy as you do?” His kisses trail down your neck, nibbling and simultaneously inhaling your scent. “My wife, my gorgeous, lovely, beautiful, bride.”
You gasp, head tilted up as he effortlessly lifts you by your hands lifting under your thighs. “Need your cock, Ed.”
“Yeah, you need me to fuck you ruthlessly, my love?”
You nod hands shaky as you attempt to undo his dress pants. “Please, Eddie.”
Eddie yanks your panties down your thighs, marveling at the lacy fabric. “Fuck, I need that sweet, tight, pussy.”
Before you knew it, Eddie was lining himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, hurry up, before someone comes for looking for us.”
“You think I care if someone walks in on me fucking my wife?” Eddie asks, and his question sounds genuine. “I couldn’t care less if someone walks in on us, at least they could get a good show, we could give ‘em someone to be jealous of, yeah?”
Hopelessly, you feel impossibly more turned on by his dirty perfect words. “Then give me your big cock, Ed. Please.”
Eddie pushes into you, filling you completely. “Oh, there’s that cock drunk face I’ve been wanting to see.”
“Eddie, cock, so big!”
He doesn’t waste a second bucking into you, harsh and ruthlessly perfect. “Somehow your pussy gets better every time I fuck you, sweets. How tight you are, how perfect, oh, if I didn’t love it so much I would say it needs to be illegal.”
“The only thing that should be illegal, Ed, is how good you are with words.” Eddie laughs, hot breath down your neck. “God, you make me so happy…”
“Can’t wait to see you big and pregnant, sweets.” Eddie sighs, repeatedly bucking into you. “Wanna fill you with my babies.”
“Want your babies.” You gasp.
“Where the hell did they go?” Down the hall, you hear someone but it doesn’t occur that it even needs to matter. “God, need to put a bell on those two—oh my god!”
Your head turns to the noise, seeing your best friend standing in the hall with her eyes covered by her hands. “Either stay and enjoy the show,” Eddie stops to gasp, “or take off back to the hall.”
“I-I’m so sorry…I’ll see you in the dancing room,”
You giggle, tugging him in for a big kiss. “Sweet girl.” He laughs, starting to fuck you even harder.
“Cum in me, please, Eddie.” You beg, nails digging into the hair on his neck. “Wanna be filled with you.”
“I am going to keep you good and full on the honeymoon, my good whore,” Eddie mutters and you can feel him start to fall apart. “Gonna fuck you everywhere I can, put on a good show for everyone.”
You tighten around him, turned more than ever by his words. “I love you, Mr. Munson.”
He smiles, colliding his forehead against yours. “I love you, more, Mrs. Munson.”
You don’t know what it is about your new name, but it’s what gets the both of you off, Eddie’s cum filling you up deliciously.
Bethany avoids your eye as soon as you get into the room, and you’re sure she’ll get over it, not like you haven’t heard her and her ex-boyfriend many times.
“Hey, heard you traumatized your maid of honour.” Steve laughs, clutching a slice of pizza in one hand, and a drink of whiskey in the other.
You yank the piece, suddenly aware of how little you’ve eaten. “I thought she’d know better to walk in on us by now.” You laugh, taking a large bite.
Steve checks his watch, the very same hand you just yoinked the pizza from. “Doesn’t your flight take off in about the next three-ish hours?”
Eddie checks his, gulping in answer. “Oh, shit.” You check it with him, having a flight out that same night. “Should we get going, love?”
You nod, placing your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Let’s get going.”
Everyone applauds as you walk out in a sweet white dress, ready to take off to Cancun with your husband, walking down the lane surrounded by love.
Everyone gives you a hug, wishing you well on your long honeymoon.
“Don’t expect to hear from us!” You call, getting in the car that Eddie ordered.
-
The heat from sun is beautiful, sandals flopping in sync as you walk from the taxi that brought you to the hotel. “Jesus, Eddie.” You mutter, looking at your extravagant surroundings. “You did not need to spend this much on the hotel.”
“Well, get used to being spoiled, baby girl.” He mutters, leading you to the check in desk.
The check in attendant smiles sweetly, covertly putting one side of her hair behind one of her ears. She speaks with a thick Mexican accent, giving her best customer service smile. “Hi, checking in?”
“Yes, under the name Munson, please.” Eddie says, wrapping his arm around you.
“Oh, the honeymoon suite!” She exclaims, her smile brightening. “Well, to start, congratulations on your nuptials, and every request is completely fulfilled, no problem. As asked, we will not disturb your room unless absolutely necessary, and we have already booked the spa for your wife.”
“Spa?” You ask, eyebrow tilting towards him. “I love the sound of that.”
“Knew you would.”
“And you have a dinner reservation tonight at 7. Any questions, feel free to call the front desk, any time of the day,” she says, handing the card with the room number.
The floor level with your room only has a few rooms. Eddie taps his card on the door to open it, opening to a room with a damn kitchen suite and a separate room for the bed. “What the hell did you spend?” You ask him, mouth gapping open as your bags slip out of your bags.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, love.” Eddie walks to you, hands caressing your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. “C’mon, we have king bed I want to take advantage of.”
“What was that about no interruptions?” You ask him, petting his curls.
“You think we’re leaving this room for the next six hours?” he asks, lightly pushing you towards the double doors that open to the bedroom.
His words make you literally insane, wanting him more than you ever have. “W-what?”
“Baby, I am going to absolutely ravish you for so long you won’t even remember your own name.” He claims, already pulling the zipper down your back. “But you will remember your new last one.”
Your back is laid on the bed, Eddie pulling your panties down, biting on the second pair of lacey lingerie you wear for him in less than 24 hours. “Sweet girl, look how soaked you are for me.”
“Need you.” You grunt, anticipating Eddie finally tasting you from the feel of his hot breath on your pussy, sending shivers down your spine as Eddie places your legs over his shoulders.
Eddie kisses you, nose nuzzling in your intoxicating scent, his hilted nose hitting right up against your clit. “Fuck, are you wet, baby.”
“Can you blame me, I just married the hottest man alive!” You moan, heels pulling him in.
“My wife is the prettiest, and I will be spending my life making sure everyone around me knows how smoking hot you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to eat.”
Your hands fly into his short curls, lying restlessly as Eddie devours you. Your first orgasm takes over your body, invading every sense with mind numbing pleasure.
By the third one invades your body, everything is too much, feels too good, “Fuck! Eddie I can’t, I can’t!”
“You can, my girl, of course you can. Remember what I said about making you forget your name? I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He laughs, thumb circling your clit.
By the fifth orgasm you eventually learn that not even begging will stop him if he can help it. “You got a safe word, use it.”
His fingers hook in your warmth, driving you to another one, to which this point you’ve lost count. You swear you’re speaking to him, but in all truth, it is all incoherent. You’re trying to tell him how much you love him, and how good he makes you feel, but Eddie can’t make a single word out of it.
“What’s your name, hmm?” Eddie asks, spitting on your pussy dirtily.
You tell him, gasping for air.
“I see, still not enough yet.”
It takes 11 orgasms to finally drive you to the point where tears are falling from your eyes, both in happiness and straight pleasure. Eddie’s face is straight up soaked in you, the slick drenching his face like a beard. “Alright, beautiful wife, what’s your name?”
Your head lifts up, loopy at the idea that you even had a name to begin with. All that comes out is desperate gasps.
“There we go.” He mutters, crawling up your body. “Think you can handle my cock, or do you think you’re done, baby.”
Your hand reaches out for him, tugging him by his holiday shirt. You can’t communicate, all words left your brain, but you do know you still want his cock.
“Of course, I will still fuck my good girl.” Eddie answers, wiping the tears that fell down your face away.
You’re limp as he fucks into you, hands gripping your hips ruthlessly. All he can do is mutter how much he loves you, and how good of a girl you just were for him, and he could watch you fall apart all day, especially after marrying you.
He fills you up again, arms wrapping from behind you as you fell straight asleep, still muttering sweet nothings and wishes of his love.
-
The first thing that happens when you wake up, is your knees collapse from under you when you try to get up to use the bathroom.
After the mind numbing pleasure he just gave you, you suppose it only made sense. As you brush your teeth, he walks up behind you, his naked torso against your bare back as he kisses your neck gently. “Feel good?”
You laugh, almost choking on the toothpaste in your mouth. “Yes, baby.” You nod, spitting it into the sink. “It’s not past 7, is it?”
He turns you around to face him, giving you a sweet look of love. “Nope. Actually it’s in about an hour. Get ready, sweet stuff.”
“Actually, one minute.” You giggle, grabbing him by the hand before he can leave the bathroom.
“Hmm?” He asks, face questioning.
“Just need to do one thing…” You couldn’t help it, knowing he spent the better part of two hours just going down on you before you napped together. You get on your knees.
“What—oh, oh! Oh, fuck.”
After being bent over the sink in the bathroom, Eddie and you make your way into the front of the restaurant.
The host leads the way, sitting you in a corner of the dining room.
Eddie orders you a sweet cocktail and him a bourbon, eyeing you over the menu.
You returned the favour, making him cum twice before he finally begged to just fuck you.
The dinner is filled with your hopes and dreams, things you’ve been too worried to tell one another, scared of coming across too much.
Eddie wants to raise three kids with you. You agree, confessing how hard you fell for him after seeing him chase Eliza. He doesn’t plan on moving, but might if you asked him to.
You’re only working because you’re scared of relying on him, or making him feel like a bank. He doesn’t care, you can work or not, it’s completely up to you. Sometimes you worry about him being afraid to tell you when he is feeling too achy, joints too sore, or is not ready for something. Truly, honestly, Eddie is more worried about you thinking he’s too old for you.
It was never a worry to begin with, despite the 22-year age gap.
If you could stop asking yourself how it’s possible to keep falling for someone harder, you would.
When Eddie takes the dress you wear off, he’s whispering sweet promises, somehow even sweeter than the vows he told you.
It was two more rounds before you fell asleep in his arms once more.
-
Camille works her front desk, filling in some paperwork and starting her opening shift duties. “Hi Linda!” She says, greeting one of the maids who has been working there 15+ years. “Morning, Linda! Any updates?”
Linda leans in, as she always does when she has hot gossip. “Were you the one that checked in that newly wed couple yesterday?”
“Uh, Munsons on the eighth floor?” She asks, remembering the way he touched her ass so brazenly in front of her. “Yeah, I remember them.”
“Well every maid has heard them over the last 24 hours, they are relentless with one another.”
Camille resists from laughing, eyes bugging out of her head. “Like…?”
“Yes. Exactly like that.” She looks both ways before leaning in again.
“And trust me when I say they are loud.”
“Well, I guess I know why they didn’t want to be interrupted,” She laughs, barely holding back in laughter.
-
The hot sand lies underneath your towel, one foot bent, the other extended as your sunglasses barely shade you from the sun. One ear pod is in your ear, the other in Eddie’s, listening to a sweet mixture of both your music taste.
Eddie lies almost directly next to you, body in direct touch with yours. You’ve been there for barely an hour, sun cascading down on you. “Hey sweet thing,” Eddie starts, turning towards you, leaning on his elbow.
You take the earpiece out, lifting your head to look at your smoking hot husband. “Hmm?”
“C’mon, we’re going for a swim.” Eddie says, holding your hand out for your earpiece. “C’mon.”
You hand it to him, letting the dress you wear over your bathing suit fall off your body. “It’s unfair how hot you are.” He says, eyes appreciating you blatantly.
One of the only things you’ve kept from your relationship with your now stepson, (still weird), is the bathing suit you wore when you met Eddie. You made sure he didn’t see it until this moment, and it was worth the wait. Even as you run straight to the water, you’re utterly aware of how Eddie is chasing you, giggles invading the otherwise quiet beach as you splash into the water.
As you swim together, you can see the sweat that beads on his skin from the hot sun. You can’t help but splash him, enjoying every moment with him in the eerily blue water. “You like my swimsuit?”
He grabs you so your legs easily wrap around his waist, lips meeting the salt on his skin from the sweat. “Shut up, you knew exactly what you were doing, baby.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
He laughs, arms pulling you in tightly, so you feel the boner in his trunks. “You don’t think I don’t remember what you were wearing when I first met you, sweets?” One hand slips to your bikini bottom sliding it over. “Those pink strings stayed etched in my mind for days.”
One finger slides in, Eddie watching your reaction carefully. “Been thinking of ways to make you fall apart on a public beach ever since, and this is just one of them.” He feels you tighten up around him in response, a smile slowly creeping on the face. “Making you cum in the water, no one will be the wiser if you keep quiet.”
You gulp, placing your head in the crook of his neck. “Oh, fuck, daddy.”
“I know you love to be watched, hmm, my little minx?”
You nod, barely holding in any of the gasps that leave your throat. “Love people to see you like this, I just know you do.”
“Gonna make you cum, then we’re gonna fuck hidden away from the rest of them, yeah?” You nod, nails digging into his shoulder.
The feeling takes over you, withering in his arms as you try to stay quiet. The sloshing of the water around the two of you certainly doesn’t help, however. “Eddie.”
“Hmm, if I didn’t know water sex actually feels terrible, I’d have put it in by now.” Eddie muses, still grinding his tent against your cunt, still uncovered.
Eddie eventually finds a little secluded area sort of by the water, yet somewhere people might still be able to cross accidentally. His cock his perfect as it hits the spot repeatedly, and he doesn’t even give up after the first time he fills you up. “Listen to you whine for me like a little slut.” He moans, untying the strings on your neck to reveal your tits. “I bet everyone on that beach can hear you.”
At this point you didn’t even care. “Let them listen.”
He laughs, sighing into your neck. “Whatever you say, pretty girl. Just keep taking this cock, let the chips fall where they may.”
-
It’s a miracle your stuff wasn’t stolen off the beach.
Eddie sends you to the spa, demanding you get everything and anything that tickled your fancy. When asked why he didn’t want to follow you, he gives the vaguest explanation in the world, and unfortunately he’s stubborn enough to wait until you give in.
So, a full body massage, a pedicure, sitting in a mud bath just because you can, and you come back to the hotel room feeling more pampered than you knew was possible. “Hey, Ed—” You stop short as soon as the red flower petals that lead you to the bedroom come into sight. “What--?”
All you can do is follow the giggles that radiate from the room.
The double doors open to him, sitting next to a table with a supper on it. “How you feelin, sweets?”
“Pampered.” You answer honestly, your feet twisting nervously.
“Good.” Eddie answers, picking up a dress you knew he had bought in light of being the only one to ever see you wear it. It’s…revealing…to say the least. “Put that on, then come sit down with me.” As his eyes rake down your body, lucky isn’t even close to how you’re feeling. “Man, I’m good.”
“What’s all this for?”
“Do I need a reason to spoil you?”
You laugh, sitting when he pulls the chair out for you. “No, I’m just—”
“I get it.” Eddie offers, sitting across the small table. “It feels a bit much, to me, too. But man, I need you to know how much I love you, sometimes or I will melt.”
Do I even need to tell you how the evening ended? I’ll give you a hint; love bites that cover your neck, passed your breast, and trailing all the way to your pussy.
-
“Since when do you dance, anyway?” You ask him after he tells you the purpose of your walk for the night.
“Since grinding against you in a club was an option.” Eddie answers, laughter bubbling behind in his voice.
He leads you through a crowd of people dancing to a Latin beat, heavy on horns and percussion. He doesn’t give you a chance to even hesitate, his fingers strong on your exposed hips from the cut out in your dress, his knee planting itself in between your legs.
The heat makes his curls frazzle, the constant salt on his skin sweet. From the last two weeks spent in the sun, he’s starting to get a sun-kissed glow. His hand intertwines itself into your hair, tugging on the scalp as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, somehow still moving his hips against yours simultaneously.
“This is the best feeling.” He mutters, not expanding any more.
“What?” You mewl, your hips truly starting to give in to the beat.
“Knowing I have the hottest girl here.” He states, as if it’s a straight fact.
“Imagine how I feel.” You state, knowing for a fact no one even compares to his level.
Eddie turns you around, mouth kissing against your neck as your hand lands on the curls that now are surprisingly already getting some growth again.
He can’t stop his wondering hands. He never can. As if he has the strength to. They never actually touch anything, but they do grab at your ass, your thighs, even feel your tit up. Eddie loves the heat that radiates your pussy, a signal of how fantastic he makes you feel, and how much you want him, no matter where you are.
As you hop bar to bar, drink to drink, dance to dance, by the time you stumble back into the hotel room together you’re both so revved up, you don’t even bother taking your clothes off.
Your reputation throughout the hotel is how intensely you feel for one another, how badly you love each other, and usually they’d just chop it up to newlyweds, but this was a different intensity. Most of the maids haven’t even seen your faces, but they know for a plenty of intimate details just from cleaning on the same floor.
There’s not a single noise complaint, as the floor of the newlywed suites are basically made to make it your oasis.
By the end of the third week, you get homesick for your little house with him, homesick for your own bed. Eddie has spent all the time in the world ravishing you wherever he can, and it would be a lie to say you didn’t spend a single second on your knees in a public setting.
Camille, a woman who has spent the three weeks recommending local restaurants and helping Eddie with his little schemes, helps you check out and speaks to you over the desk as if you were an old friend. “By the way, I hope you know you two have gained quite the reputation here. Have a safe flight.”
Eddie’s truck is in the driveway when you get home, Steve promising to bring it back as one of his many best-man duties.
As your back hits your back, it’s better than ever to be home, glancing up at the popcorn ceiling. As you’re lying down, you notice a slight ache in your nipples that isn’t very normal for you. No mind, you would grab a test from under the sink and take it just in case.
Is…is that two lines? Is that two lines?
That’s definitely two lines.
“Shit.”
-
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken
Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyss @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @spencerssatchel @bl4ckt00thgr1n @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp @lma1986 @mischieftom @strangerfan3691 @crayongirl-linz @dumblittlebunbun @ick90 @emilyshortcake @lemonmintseltzer @joannamuns9n
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson smut#older!eddie x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader
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MICK DATING A K-POP IDOL | MS47
― Warnings: mentions of family members; not proofread.
― A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to Asian people and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <;3
― Based on this requested here
✷ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide
✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment(don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee
Everyone always took Mick as the country music type of guy, so when he started liking things about K-pop and added a few music from the genre to his official F1 playlist fans started to suspect something was up;
And as it happens, it was because a few weeks later you were walking on the paddock and getting to the Mercedes garage. Getting to Mick;
Your relationship was quick to become public, and Mick would attend concerts whenever he could;
It took him some time to get used to how famous you were. And how you would be giving him gits regularly, but everything you gave was always so thoughtful, especially when he got a song for his birthday - a whole song about how much he was your sunshine boy;
He loved watching your choreographies and would totally ask you to show them to him whenever you're home together.
You guys would share a bunch of stuff about your cultures. Constantly traveling between Asia and Europe between the holidays;
Mick was also the first boyfriend your fandom actively shipped. He would be all flush and happy about it, especially when he attended concerts, and some fans asked him for pics too;
He would put your songs to play in the garage, no questions asked;
Not only would Mick love watching you dance, but he would also try to learn some moves himself;
Would love it whenever you sang at home. Like truly love it;
The proudest boyfriend;
Would wear your merch around like one wears a wedding ring and proudly shows the world;
Mick would get into other K-pop groups too, and you would love to see him immerse in the culture;
Truly the sweetest and most comprehensive boyfriend you could've asked for.
― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! I don't know much about K-pop, so if anything is inaccurate or something please just let me know!🤍 make sure to let me know your thoughts by reblogging and leaving me an ask!
Side note: Thank you for the request, nonny! It's been a beat since I last heard K-pop music, and I did while writing this piece - it was so much fun!! <3
taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @leclercsluv @v1naco @callsign-scully @heelariously @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @peachiicherries @therealcap @mehrmonga @cixrosie @thatgibbsygirl @the-depressed-fellow @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @skepvids @scopeiguess @nzygftoji @princewis @bbreezybitch @graciewrote
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©thisismeracing ― Do not copy, steal, or translate my work. Do not repost on a different media platform.
#singer!reader#kpop idol!reader#ms47#mick schumacher#f1 x reader#f1 imagines#mick schumacher headcanon#f1 fandom#mick schumacher x reader#f1 x asian!reader#asian!reader#op: headcanons#f1 x you#f1 fic#formula one imagine
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Every Time You Lie-Ch 2 || Lloyd Hansen
Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x female!reader, dark!Husband Lloyd Hansen x Wife!reader.
Synopsis: Any woman is jealous of you, especially with the status of being the wife of Lloyd Hansen—the CEO of the biggest pharmacy company in the country. From the outside, everyone sees you as a perfect family, a successful husband, two kids, and living in a big house.
But the truth is different. You are trapped in this marriage because of the mistake you made. You are willing to give everything you have to get your freedom. Free from him. Free from your vicious mother-in-law. Free from your snobby son.
This story has manipulation, tragedy, and drama.
Both of them shouldn’t be together.
Warning: Betrayal, suicidal thought, harsh language, tragedy. Minors do not read. 18+
Author Note: I do not consent to copying or translating my work.
Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think about this one.
Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5,Chapter 6 , -
Main Masterlist || Ko-fi
Lloyd always gets what he wants. He learned his ability to manipulate when he was a teenager.
He never stopped doing it, and it benefits both sides.
Good at manipulating, negotiating, and most of all, a football championship. That's how Lloyd got accepted at Harvard Law School.
Every man and woman was jealous of his success, and he noticed that, too. And he enjoyed their envied look. But what can he do? There's only one winner.
However, they were surprised when they discovered Lloyd worked as a corporate lawyer at the pharmaceutical company.
Because many law firms are interested in recruiting him.
The truth is, it's been Lloyd's plan from the beginning to work in Laurent Pharmaceutical.
The story will go back to when he was 9 years old. He just returned from playing with his friends when he heard his mother scream. He went to see his mom, who was already on the floor. She's kneeling and her head facing down. Mail letters and bills are scattered around.
His house and his mother, Krystal, became a mess after his father died of lung cancer. Lloyd has learned about death and accepted that his father has gone.
But Krystal didn't accept this. She crawled to Lloyd, her hands clenched on his shoulder. Her teary eyes and messy hair make her like a lunatic.
"Lloyd, remember this. It's all Laurent's fault your father is gone. It's all his fault!!!"
Lloyd clenched his fist, holding the pain because of her hand gripped. "Yes, mother."
Since then, he has studied, made friends and used his charm to manipulate people.
When he got accepted at Laurent Pharmaceutical, it was really easy for him to get promoted. Lloyd finally met the CEO, Ralph L/N. He is a humble man who prefers to work at the lab with his team rather than expand his connections.
Such a waste, to be honest. This company has potential because of the quality of medicine it makes. It's cheap, effective, and has loyal consumers.
If he becomes the CEO, he will make the company bigger and more successful.
Lloyd discussed expanding the company with Ralph, but he wasn't interested.
That's where he met you, Y/N L/N, for the first time at the lab. You were looking at the microscope when your father called your name.
Lloyd met with your sister and your younger brother. He tried to hang out with them, but he failed. Mia, the second child, in her head, only filled the wedding plans with her fiance, while your brother didn't let anyone enter his friend circle.
The only choice he has is you. You are the eldest child and want to continue the company after Ralph retired. It's perfect. That means you know everything about the company.
He tried getting close to you. He started as your advisor, became a friend, and became a lover. It wasn't easy, but he loved challenges.
When both of you became close, he discovered an internal fight between siblings. You, Mia and Theo, are fighting to become the next CEO.
Lloyd thinks how sweet and cute you are when you come to him, telling him all your problems. That's how he knew everyone's secrets and weaknesses.
He used all the information to make L/N siblings fight with each other. At the same time, he continued his plan to make Laurent Pharmaceutical company bankrupt. To finish his job and fulfil Krystal's wishes.
But decided not to bring down the company after you told him, "I love you Lloyd."
That's the first time he felt guilty. You were innocent, kind, and gentle. He knows what the company means to you. It wasn't your fault, but you got into this mess because of him.
When Krystal heard his plan, she didn't agree. He doesn't want to stop halfway, too. "I'll change the company name to Crystal Pharmaceutical."
His mother didn't say anything, but a smile appeared. It's the first time he sees her smile after his father died. He never saw her smile when he made any achievements. Turned out revenge is the answer.
Then, the judgment day came. When he signed the letter to make it official, he became the new CEO and changed the company name to Crystal Pharmaceutical.
That's the first time he saw hatred in your eyes when you looked at him. He doesn't like it. He longs for the loving eyes. Lloyd understands that you hate him. He will make it up to you.
But he lost his patience when you wanted to publish the company secrets that could end everything. He doesn't want to do this but must make you listen to him.
He threatened your family life. That's enough to make you obedient.
After exchanging vows and kisses on your wedding day, you told him, "I've stopped trusting you."
Nobody from your family or friends at the wedding. Only Lloyd, his mother and people you don't know.
He smiled and kissed your cheeks. "Everyone has their secrets."
Since then, both of you have become a married couple. He watched every move you made. Lloyd knew you still hated and blamed him, but that's life. Nothing is fair in this world—only the strongest survive.
You didn't try to do anything; after becoming a mother, you stayed home and did your duty as a good wife. He had nothing to complain about. His life is perfect.
Time passes, and under his management, the company has expanded and has a billion in profits. It made him own the world.
Successful company, perfect image, and perfect family.
When becoming successful, there's always a temptation. Lloyd has ignored it because he got you.
But in the end, he got tempted by this one girl. Her name is Zoey. She reminded him of when you were young.
What impressed him was that she didn't want anything else from him. She just wants to know how it feels to be with him. He must admit he lost control when he tasted the forbidden fruit.
Every time they were together, Lloyd felt guilty towards you. And he wished you would never find out.
But his fear became true on the wedding anniversary.
You knew.
He doesn't know how you found out; he will check on your daily agenda.
He thought you would slap him and went to hit Zoey, but instead, you said, "I want a divorce."
No. Oh no, he didn't expect that. The only woman who he only loved in this world. You're his perfect wife in his golden cage, and he can't let you go.
He should've chased and apologised to you rather than continued the damn party.
Lloyd almost lost his mind when the head of security suddenly barged into the party and said, "Mrs Hansen got hit by a car."
He immediately went to the hospital, but you were already in the surgery room. He wasn't allowed to get in. Lloyd calmed down when he heard Emily was inside with the team.
"Hiks…hikss…"
Lloyd didn't realise his son, Lionel, was sitting near the waiting room. He sat in the corner, lifted his knees to the chair and hid his face.
The bloody shoebox is beside him. It's your blood.
Lloyd gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. He approached his son and put his hand on Lionel's shoulder.
Lionel lifted his head; there was relief on his face when he saw Lloyd. "Dad…"
Before he said something, his neck was grabbed, and Lloyd pushed his body to the wall. "Uurghh…"
Lloyd no longer cares. Because of this kid, you got into an accident. "If you weren't mine, I would end you right now."
"Put him down!!!" Krystal screamed in the hallway. She was shocked to see her grandson being strangled.
Lloyd clicked his tongue; he threw Lionel to the ground like trash. Krystal ran and helped her grandson. She looked up to Lloyd. "How could you do this to your son?"
Lloyd didn't bother to look at her. "It's your fault for making him so irresponsible like this."
This is the first time Lionel saw his father this scary. He hides in Krystal arms.
The surgery went on for 4 hours. Finally, the head doctor and Emily came out from the surgery.
The senior doctor removed his surgery mask and explained the result of his surgery: "12 broken bones, her head got hit badly. We have stopped the blood in her brain and lungs. It's a miracle she was still breathing when she arrived at the hospital. But she already lost so much blood. I'll be honest. There's a low chance she could wake up."
When Loyd heard that, his knees became weak. He grabbed his phone to make a call. "Gather all the best doctors. Tell them, it doesn't matter how much it costs."
After he made the call, he sat on the floor and looked at his wedding ring. If the damn doctors couldn't help you and you leave this world. He will chase you to heaven or hell and bring you back.
With all the doctors he gathered, none of them can cure you. It's been 4 months, and Lloyd almost lost his mind when he saw you looking lifeless like this.
Your best friend Amelia was heartbroken, and she blamed this on him and Lionel. What's new?
Then your brother Theo came too. Lloyd never saw him after he took over the company. And it takes a lot of work to track him down.
The first thing Theo did when he met Lloyd was punch him. "I have lost Mia and my father. If I lose Y/N, I will torture your mother in front of you until she dies.'
Lloyd never thought Theo would threaten him. After 20 years, he looks different. Lloyd saw the look in his eyes before. Veteran army. Seems like Theo has secrets.
He needs to be on guard when he's with Theo.
Lloyd prayed every single night for you to open your eyes.
His prayer was answered when Lionel told him, "Mom just opened her eyes!"
Both of them ran fast to see you.
Oh, how bright his life was when he saw you looking at him. Finally, you're back.
But he wasn't ready when you avoided him, and you asked, "Who… are… you…?"
It felt like thunder just struck him. Then he realised the way you look at him is different. Lloyd was too stunned to speak until Emily asked you.
"Do you know what today's date is?"
"21st July 20XX."
Lloyd's hand dropped down when he heard the date. Because it was one day before he met you, that means…
You don't know him.
To you, he's just a stranger. All the memories both of you had made together are gone.
You moved your head left and right gently. "Where’s Theo?"
"How did you know he's here?"
Your head tilts toward the flower vase near you. "The flower. He will buy this for me everytime he apologises to me."
There’s a flower vase beside you with white orchids. That flower symbolizes apologies. Theo learned it when he tried to impress girls. He always gave you this flower after both of you fought. And it always has 3 stalks, an odd number representing his siblings.
You don’t understand why, when you think about Theo, you miss him because you met him last night.
“Is he with my father?”
Lloyd sighed.
"I'm sorry but Ralph L/N died on 11 April 20XX.. And today is not 21st July 20XX but 8th August 2023."
You widen your eyes. It's impossible. "This is a fucking joke, right?"
"A joke with you lying on the patient bed? It's a tragic joke."
Is that true? Is that why these two youngsters are calling you mom? And this man, is he your husband? What happened to your boyfriend?
This question made you have difficulty breathing. "Haah…Haah…"
You need help understanding what's happening. You remembered that you went out with Amelia last night, and now you woke up in the hospital?
"Uurgh…"
Suddenly, you feel a painful headache. When you closed your eyes, you saw a blinded car headlight, heavy rain, and darkness.
You fainted again.
Lloyd, hold your head. Seeing you didn't recognise me, his blood boiled. He screamed, "Get the doctor, or I'll burn this place to the ground."
Emily ran outside. "Call the neurologist department!"
The hospital went into chaos for a moment. All the senior doctors gathered to discuss. It's obvious what happened, but they fear Lloyd since he is the biggest donor to this hospital.
In the end, Dr. Gilbert stands beside Emily. If Lloyd is mad with the result, at least his daughter can calm her father.
"Dissociative Amnesia."
When Lloyd and Lionel heard that, they felt lost. Amnesia. It's a difficult word to accept. That means you have no memory of them.
"This type of amnesia is forgetting a specific period of time. It is caused by stress or trauma. That's reasonable since the hit she got because of the accident. It's even a miracle her eyes are still working. The shattered glass from the car also got into her eyes."
Lloyd rubbed his forehead. "She forgot who we are. Her family. She only knew she was 21 years old."
Lionel felt scared, thinking his mother didn't remember him. He regrets everything he did towards you.
"At this moment, try to be patient. If she is too stressed, she will get a stroke. There is something that medical can't explain but I will keep saying it's a miracle Mrs. Hansen is still alive."
Dr. Gilbert looked at his note "When she calms down, we will try hypnosis therapy to trigger her memory."
After saying that, both of them left the room.
Lloyd keeps watching you asleep. He hopes you will remember him and tell him it's just a nightmare when you wake.
But no, the second time you woke up, you asked him, "You're my husband?"
Ahh, he lost you.
He felt empty when he heard that. You are his biggest achievement. And now, in this situation, his hard work turns into nothing.
Even though Lloyd felt empty, he still showed you the wedding photo from his phone.
You looked at the photo; no one from your family or friends. You don’t know all these people. And your face in the picture, you know it's a forced smile.
You know this since you have always been asked to get photographs for a magazine. You used this fake smile.
But why, on your wedding day, you don’t look happy?
"Why does my face look like that?"
Lloyd was speechless because you were right. It's a forced marriage. You don't have any choice but to marry him.
He smiled and said, "You missed your father and felt sad he couldn't be beside you. In this photo, you tried to be strong, my dear."
When he called you that, your skin shivered. It made you uncomfortable. You pushed away his phone and looked at him. "Are you sure I married you? Because you're not my type."
Lloyd bites his tongue when he hears that. You went back to your old self. It would be nice if you just kill him now.
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Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 ,-
Main Masterlist || Ko-fi
#chris evans characters#soft!dark lloyd hansen imagine#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x fic#lloyd hansen x fem!reader#soft!dark lloyd hansen x reader#dark!lloyd hansen x reader#dark!lloyd hansen#husband!lloyd hansen
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Could I request a Cersei x f reader where the reader is Cersei’s secret lover but Jaime (Love him but needed a villain) found out and made up lies about reader so Cersei herself throws the reader to jail. When she’s finally freed after the allegations were proved wrong, reader is now cold hearted, avoiding Cersei who tries to talk to her. Go heavy on the angst. You can decide if it’s happy ending (at least as happy of an ending as you can get with Cersei) or not. Thank you! You don’t have to write it if you don’t want to
(Gif not mine but can I just say that I hate myself for loving how beautiful she is?)
Title: Lioness Roar
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Pairing: Cersei Lannister x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4,719
Summary: Cersei’s brothers could do whatever they wanted with little to no consequences all because of their gender. Now as the Queen, Cersei believes she can do more.
Warnings: vulgar language, daddy issues (guess who), homophobia, angst, mentioned wlw smut, and I will admit it does kind of read like yandere.
Author’s Note: God I love writing about Lannisters. They’re so complex (and I know I’ve said that before so sorry if you’re sick of hearing it but I’m not sorry for saying it) and I think this might be the first time I’m writing a Cersei x reader so this was exciting!
(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)
~~~~~~~~~
Cersei always believed that if she were born with a cock, her world would be a lot different, but for the best.
As a child, she drew pictures of herself on the back of the dragon, and as she got older, her father kept promising to marry her to the prince, so then she began drawing Rhaegar Targaryen in those same pictures.
Before she grew into her female qualities, she was able to dress as her twin brother and attend sword fighting lessons without anyone able to tell the difference.
While Jaime had no interest in listening to his father about the importance of their history, their finances, and the running of the keep, Cersei listened intently. She knew that if she were Tywin’s firstborn son and heir, he’d be proud of all of her accomplishments, and this was just one of many ways she tried to gain his approval.
She did all these things to prove that she can do anything her brothers did possibly even do more than Tyrion but Lord Tywin always stamped down her ambitions other than the one that involved her getting married to the prince. No matter how hard she tried, Cersei could never get her father to actually see her aside from what she already was.
One look and Lord Tywin would’ve seen his daughter holding a sword better than Jaime ever could and reciting old text better than Tyrion could ever pronounce. If Tywin could only see past her gender, Cersei would truly be his golden child.
Alas, she was nothing but a bargaining chip; a pawn he liked to move around the board. When her marriage proposal to Rhaegar fell through and all the Targaryens were killed off, Cersei was married to Robert Baratheon and she became his Queen Consort. She gave him three children, despite the two of them being unhappy from the start. Even if her children didn’t look like the King, she didn’t care. She did her duty to the realm, to her husband, and to her father, securing the legacy Tywin always wanted for his family. Cersei did her part and now she felt inclined to her own right of freedom to do whatever she wanted.
That freedom came in the form of Lady Y/n.
As a wedding gift, Lord Tywin sent Cersei the daughter of one of his bannermen to act as her handmaid and confidant. Y/n was possibly the only truly kind gesture Cersei’s father ever made toward her, but the new Queen was bitter from the beginning. She did not confide in other women. Cersei felt as though she was above gossiping and hand-sewing, even when she was a little girl. With her father’s praise and boasting of her being the most beautiful woman in all the Seven Kingdoms, Cersei even believed she was above all the ladies of the country, including Y/n.
Y/n was a quiet young woman. Dutiful towards her Queen and tending to her every need without question, the handmaid was smart to never speak openly to Cersei. She kept her thoughts tight-knit in her mind and only replied to the Queen if Cersei spoke directly at her. Even where Y/n was from, she heard certain rumors about Cersei and how the Lady Lannister’s best friend, Melara Hetherspoon, mysteriously fell into a well and only Cersei lived to tell the tale. Y/n’s mother was secretly concerned when Tywin Lannister sent her daughter away to tend to Cersei, knowing that the Lioness of Casterly Rock was always troubled and strangely devoid of any emotion other than anger.
Even Y/n believed this, and in fear, she never spoke a word to Cersei unless spoken to so as not to draw attention to herself. Tending to Cersei was like awaiting with anticipation for a barrel of wildfire to ignite. All it took was one tiny flame.
However, once Cersei’s children were born, it appeared as though that flame was tameable. Y/n often tended to her Queen’s children more so than the wet nurses. Many wondered if the wet nurses were just lazy, but one maid, in particular, had the bravery to whisper about the Queen being behind this, how Cersei ordered the wet nurses to do their duty to feed her children except Myrcella but to leave all other care to Lady Y/n and herself.
If this rumor was to be taken seriously, no one knew why Cersei would do such a thing unless she full-heartedly trusted her handmaid. But this was Cersei Lannister of all people, and no one, not even King Robert, was allowed to be near the princess and princes without Cersei’s presence.
And yet, Y/n could be found with all three children, alone, holding them to her chest when they cried or laughing as she chased them around in the gardens. If they weren’t with Cersei or their teachers, the royal children were likely to be found with Lady Y/n, who they lovingly nicknamed their aunt once they began to speak. Perhaps the children truly thought Y/n was part of their family and if so, Cersei had allowed it to appear that way.
The truth is Cersei grew to care for one other person besides her children and Jaime, but kept that close to her heart and locked it away, not even Y/n could reach it. At first, Cersei was disgusted with her thoughts and her feelings. There was a time in her inner turmoil when she would lash out at her handmaid even though Y/n did nothing wrong. Despite all this, Cersei blamed her for everything and was even tempted to send her away. But young Myrcella, barely able to write her own name, cried one night when Y/n was not there to tuck her into bed and told her mother how much she loved Y/n. Feeling defeated, Cersei never exiled Y/n and refused to look at the other woman for many months.
Cersei’s demons came to a head when she heard Jaime tell yet another story about Tyrion finding another whore to bed with... but instead of her usual disgust, another thought struck her. There was a time when Cersei could act like a boy all she wanted without anyone batting an eye. She could do whatever she wanted and even though she was now Queen, Cersei had yet to take full advantage of that. As long she remained married to the King and gave him children, her father could not tell her what to do and her husband cared very little about what she did as long as Cersei kept him out of it. Hearing Jaime’s story of Tyrion’s new woman, Cersei thought if her dear little brother could take any common whore to bed without scandal, why couldn’t she?
Lady Y/n was already her handmaid. It was already the perfect disguise. If Tyrion could do it and hide his lover as a servant girl, so could Cersei. If Robert could openly bring whatever woman he wanted into his bed, so could his wife.
Of course, Cersei could order Y/n to kiss her and bed her if she liked, but she was a clever woman and felt the excitement of playing the long game of convincing Y/n to love her. So as not to scare her, Cersei started off slowly, starting by subtly nodding her thanks to Y/n when she helped her dress and undress because yes, Cersei has never once thanked anyone before. When Y/n didn’t appear put off by this, Cersei slowly began to openly thank her, then slowly progressed to subtly touching her arm or moving Y/n’s hair off her shoulder.
This slow progression is successful in many ways. Y/n doesn’t notice how much Cersei changed because Cersei had slowly done so without any red flags rising. Before Y/n could remember the story of Melara Hetherspoon, Cersei had her wrapped around her finger, practically brainwashing her handmaid into believing that she had always been a kind and loving queen towards her loyal subjects. Cersei’s patience paid off when Y/n began to openly talk to her about her hopes and dreams, even her opinions, without ever flinching of fear or repeal.
And, in a way, her patience also brought Cersei to love Y/n even more than just for lust. Listening to Y/n talk made Cersei wonder why she had suppressed the young woman from doing so in all the years she’s known her. Everything sounded exciting when Y/n spoke, her voice forcing Cersei to listen to every syllable.
That is... until eligible suitors came searching for Y/n’s hand in marriage. When Y/n talked about her suitors, Cersei would immediately order her to speak of something else. She couldn’t bear to hear about the men trying to take her new interest away from her. She wouldn’t allow her brothers to steal a toy from her as children, why would this be any different?
It was the talk of the decade. Throughout King’s Landing, people whispered about how Lady Y/n must be cursed. Ever since her father announced opening a proposal for her, many of Y/n’s suitors have mysteriously disappeared or been found dead in their beds, sometimes even before they could meet her. Over time, several men have gone to King’s Landing in hopes of winning Y/n’s hand. None have returned to their homes and some houses were on the brink of extinction because of this curse.
It didn’t take long before men stopped asking for Y/n’s hand in marriage, and Cersei had never been happier to have her handmaid remain at her side.
By the time Jon Arryn mysteriously died, Y/n was more than just a confidant or friend. She became Cersei’s secret lover, and Cersei didn’t feel any shame or disgust the first time she kissed her. While making plans for the royal family to travel to Winterfell, Y/n shyly and breathlessly confessed her love for Cersei. Before she could escape the Queen’s chambers in her shame, Cersei roughly held Y/n’s face in her hands as she fervently kissed her. The victory going on in Cersei’s mind was all too sweet, hastily taking Y/n to her bed then and there, finally claiming her as no one but the Queen’s.
Cersei had begun to feel like a god with what she had taken as her own. With Y/n secretly under one arm and Jaime under the other, she began to believe and reminisce about the young girl she once was, a Lady Lannister who took no prisoners and always got whatever she wanted. As Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Cersei felt as though she held the world in her hands and was believed to be untouchable.
This god complex would continue to fester and grow as several events play out. While in Winterfell, Young Bran Stark mysteriously fell out of a window. When the royal family left the North, they brought Ned Stark and his two daughters with him as the new Hand of the King. When Cersei arrived back in King’s Landing, Y/n was waiting for her in her chambers with open arms and a hot bath. Cersei had never felt such power secured tightly in her fist before.
That is until it slipped ever so slightly out of her grasp and Cersei lashed out and nearly lost her mind. Under Lord Stark’s orders, his wife Catelyn took Tyrion as her prisoner and this prompted Jaime to attack the Hand of the King before escaping King’s Landing. Cersei could feel her power and influence slipping when, even as Ned Stark admitted to her accusations, Robert still refused to punish his old friend.
Madness slipped through, for a split second, as Cersei snapped, “I took you for a king!”
“Hold your tongue.”
“He’s attacked one of my brothers and abducted the other. I should wear the armor, and you the gown.”
King Robert spun around and hit her before Cersei could say more. She proudly claimed she would wear this mark on her face like a badge of honor before swiftly leaving the room. She retreated to her chambers to lick her wounds and fester in her rage. When Y/n was summoned, she was horrified by the angry bruise on Cersei’s face and tended to it immediately. Unaware of what had happened, Y/n barely even blinked when Cersei ordered her to stay with her the whole night.
War began to brew after that and Cersei received word of Tywin and Jaime raising an army to bring back Tyrion. Sensing it was time to make her move, she had her cousin Lancel bring an armload of wine for Robert when he fled to the Kingswood to hunt. Of course, everyone knows that wine and hunting don’t mix, and when Robert returned to Cersei, his guts were spilling out of him. It wasn’t long before Joffrey was sitting on the Iron Throne after that, his mother sitting beside him.
Cersei had Ned Stark arrested and his daughters confined to the Red Keep. With her son as king, she now had all the power with no one to tell her otherwise. She still felt her self-control slip, however, when she heard of Jaime’s capture and then Tyrion returned to King’s Landing as Tywin’s Acting Hand of the King. When she heard the news of her twin brother, Cersei retreated back to her chambers and once again, kept Y/n in her bed all night long. Y/n was none the wiser, believing Cersei was only grieving her brother’s capture by taking her anger out on her lover. This anger got even worse when Myrcella was sent away to Dorne.
When Jaime returned, Cersei was still an angry woman and nothing was ever the same again. Cersei retreated from Jaime’s embrace whenever he reached out to her. At first, he thought it was because of his missing hand, but then Cersei gifted him a golden prosthetic as a replacement. When she didn’t appear disgusted by him, Jaime kept a watchful eye on his sister.
He suspected Cersei had another lover but failed to find any man entering his sister’s chambers, no matter the time of day. He did, however, always noticed Y/n freely walking around wherever she wanted. Even when Cersei was not around, Lady Y/n would enter her room and the guards standing outside wouldn’t even question her. Sometimes, Jaime even witnessed Y/n ordering the guards around as if she were speaking on the Queen’s behalf, and they listened to her. Jaime’s affronted thoughts came to a halt when one day, he noticed Y/n out in the gardens with Tommen, the young prince indulging the lady with a book he read out loud. Cersei was nowhere in sight.
Jaime was not the smartest Lannister, but he knew Cersei better than anyone, and he knew that his sister would not trust their her children with anyone unless she had complete faith in them.
He confronted his sister that night when he knew that Y/n was sent away after helping Cersei undress. With the Queen now alone, Jaime snuck in and didn’t hesitate to speak his mind, “You love her.”
Cersei froze, her back turned to him, refusing to say a word or even look back to face him. Jaime scoffs because that was enough of a confirmation for him. Cersei was never one to hold back her tongue; this would have been no exception if it wasn’t true. The emotions that began to build within Jaime were rage and disgust. He pushed a boy out of a window for Cersei. He kept their affair a secret for Cersei. He killed his cousin for Cersei. He even lost his hand when trying to get back to Cersei. How is it that he went through all that trouble the gods have cursed him with for Cersei, and she had already moved on and fallen in love with another? How could he live with this knowing that Cersei had pushed him aside for none other than a woman?
“As hateful as you are... you love her,” he seethed between his teeth, “All those years you made me believe you kept her around to keep all eyes away from us... when really you just wanted us both. You have always been a selfish woman.”
A wry smile curls over his lips, the brewing anger slowly turning malicious, “But I wonder how selfish? Or are you just too blind by love to see it?”
Cersei turned to face him, her expression sour and voice dripping with venom, “See what?”
“That she has fooled you,” Jaime lets the words spill out of his mouth like water, fluid and graceful, even he believed the deceit he spoke, “Lady Y/n’s father may be our father’s bannermen, but she is no ally to us. I intercepted a raven before my escape, one that was addressed to Robb Stark. It was sealed with your sigil but not your handwriting, so I knew it wasn’t yours. However, seldom few have access to your seal and your desk, so one could only wonder who had the means of contacting the King of the North bearing your mark?”
Cersei stood still, eyes locked onto Jaime’s as her expression slowly twists and turns corrupt with barely restrained rage and madness in between the flicker of the candle flame. For a moment, a brief moment... Jaime thought that rage was directed at him.
~~~~~~~~~
Y/n was roughly woken by a few of the Queen’s personal guards, binding her and muffling her screams with a rag. Tediously, they bring her all the way down into the dungeon before throwing her into the deepest, darkest cell. With her bonds and gag loose, Y/n finally has a moment to yell and plead, her hands gripping onto the iron bars for dear life as she begged for someone to help her.
Her pleas stop, however, when from the shadow emerges Cersei, regal as always, dressed in her usual red and gold fabrics without the help of her usual handmaid, now trapped behind bars. The moment Y/n caught the light on Cersei’s face, she knew who to place blame for her arrest.
“Why are you doing this?! I deserve an explanation!”
“You’re a traitor,” Cersei hissed even with a sly smile on her beautiful face, “You betrayed my son, your king. And worse of all, you betrayed me. Did you truly think I wouldn’t find out about your secret little messages to the King in the North? Were you praying that Jaime would never return so that he wouldn’t be able to inform me of your treachery?”
Y/n was initially shocked by these accusations before turning to defend her honor, “Surely he’s mistaken! Your brother has been away from home for far too long. His mind might be sick from being Robb Stark’s prisoner all this time. Why would you believe Ser Jaime over me?”
The question dies in her throat, her face crumbling into fearful realization as Cersei continued to stand still, as quiet as a cat while smiling down at her mouse. Y/n’s voices drop down into a whisper as she tries to hold back her own emotions, “... Unless it’s true. The rumors have all been true. You and your brother...”
Y/n’s fear slowly reverts to anger as her thoughts spill openly from her lips, “I refused to believe the whispers. I was loyal to you from the very beginning. I stuck by your side through everything and yet-- How could you?” She finally snapped, voice rising once again as her grip tightens around her bars, “I sacrificed everything for you! I gave you all I had and it still wasn’t enough, wasn’t it? I loved you... with all my heart, but not even love can cure you from this madness.”
Cersei’s eyes bore into Y/n’s own, the two women standing in the silence of the dark, cold dungeon. The Queen doesn’t acknowledge her actions for not even she knew why she quickly decided to imprison her former lover. She herself felt disgusted. Cersei had been able to round up each of King Robert’s bastard children and slaughter them for the sake of Joffrey’s legitimacy, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to have Y/n executed even though the woman was accused of betraying Joffrey. Cersei once believed she would do anything for the sake of her children, and now she felt disgusted knowing that she couldn’t even kill a woman to uphold that silent promise.
Cersei held her chin high, her voice was as cold as the day she first met Lady Y/n, “I love my brother. I will only ever love my brother. How could I ever love someone as lowly as a servant girl?”
~~~~~~~~~
It didn’t take long before Tywin noticed his daughter had a new handmaid and not one who was trusted enough to tend to Tommen when Cersei wasn’t around. Without questioning the Queen, Lord Tywin conducted an investigation and quickly discovered Y/n in the dungeons. After briefly talking to her and investigating Jaime’s accusations, Tywin was able to concur that Y/n was innocent of such treasonous actions and set her free. When Cersei heard of this, she was enraged and immediately went to her father with demands of executing her former confidant. When Tywin brought his evidence to her attention, Cersei refused to believe it, turning a blind eye and cursing her father’s name. Even in disbelief, Cersei couldn’t help but internally feel the ache and anger in her heart. Deep down, she knew Y/n had done nothing wrong, yet she listened to Jaime anyway. The last nail was wedged into her coffin when Tommen asked Cersei where his Aunt Y/n had gone. Only then could she truly admit she made a mistake.
But it was too late. With Y/n no longer being Cersei’s handmaid, the lady avoided the Queen like the plague. Y/n was no longer the woman everyone once knew to be kind and compassionate. She was cold and calculating to everyone, including Cersei, if the two women ever had a brief encounter in Joffrey’s court.
Y/n couldn’t even find it within herself to feel sympathy towards Cersei when Joffrey was murdered at his own wedding. Long after Tommen was crowned King, Y/n continued to avoid Cersei and never once shed a tear for the boy she once loved as her own. As long as one bore the face of Cersei or sported any sort of Lannister trait, Y/n avoided them at all costs and even felt disgusted if she had to share a room with them. A moment of opportunity arrived for her to be rid of this Hell when the High Sparrow became a big influence on King Tommen and his people. Cersei had the High Sparrow annointed as High Septon with the belief that he would work under her rule, and Y/n watched this unfold from a distance until finally, she made her own calculated move.
In time, Loras Tyrell, Queen Margaery, and even Cersei had been thrown into various cells of the Great Sept when none of them confessed to the sins they were accused of. Cersei had felt the cold breath of karma ghost down her neck the moment her cousin Lancel entered the room to stand beside the High Sparrow. Weeks dragged on and Cersei was miserable in her cell, hair matted and body covered in filth, tongue dry from her thirst. The cell door opened one miserable morning and Cersei curled in on herself instinctively, ready to refuse the water when offered in exchange for a confession... but the septa never said a word. Slowly, Cersei looked up from her arms and found Lady Y/n standing there instead of a septa, dressed in travelling clothes and holding a small pouch of water in hand, devoid of emotion as she looked down on the former Queen she served.
Cersei didn’t look pleased or impressed, turning her away to lean against the cold wall of her cell, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The one thing you have always strived for; craved for... You have always wanted to see me suffer.”
“I don’t know if there is anything I can say or do to convince you otherwise,” Y/n scoffed while setting down the pouch of water, “I gave my life to you, yet you still believe I betrayed you somehow in some shape or form. Even when I was proven innocent, you despised me. Why?”
Cersei blinked slowly while staring off into space, trying to swallow her spit to relieve her thirst, “You were just some lowly reminder of a time when I was unfaithful.”
“To who? King Robert? Everyone knows you despised him. That is no secret. Everyone knows that you would have done anything to hurt him. But to hurt Jaime... I think most can suspect that at this point, you would have done anything to keep him at your side. You can’t fool anyone, Your Grace. Not anymore.”
“I have fooled no one.”
“No one but me. You had me fooled the moment you kissed me,” Y/n’s voice broke, ever so slightly, cracking her mask, “You had me believe what we had was love. And yet you threw it all away the moment you decided to believe whatever you wanted to hear.”
“I didn’t want you to betray me.”
“And I never did. But you didn’t exactly care, did you? Instead of just asking me, you threw me in a cell and left me to rot. Because it was Ser Jaime’s word against mine.”
“Why are you really here?” Cersei rasped, watching her finger as she absently traced shapes into her cell wall.
Y/n composed herself, hardening her heart again and quickly blinking away the tears before they could be shed. She straightens up her vest as she confidentally spoke, “I came to say goodbye and to pray we never see each other again. What happens to you is no longer my concern. King Tommen has granted me leave from your service and is sending me home today. My only wish... my only wish is that we part with our truths laid out to one another... the way it always should have been.”
Cersei finally turns to look up at the woman standing over her, feigned smile spreading over her filthy face, “What truths, pray tell?”
“The truth is you were right, Queen Regent. I did betray you,” Y/n carefully watched as Cersei’s face twisted with several emotions before continuing, “I betrayed you to the High Sparrow. I confessed my sins to him and thus revealed yours. I told him everything, from our affair to yours and Ser Jaime’s. It wasn’t your cousin who turned you in. It was me.”
For years, Y/n has watched Cersei play the game with eager eyes and thin smiles and it wasn’t until recently did Y/n want to see the smug smile wiped from her former Queen’s pretty face. In her dreams, Y/n could imagine this and feel satisfaction bloom in her stomach, fulfilling her without food or water and lasting her till she is old in age. Now, finally succeeding in making Cersei lose at her own game, Y/n doesn’t feel that satisfaction she desired. All she could feel was guilt and shame.
Cersei’s face crumbled until it was laid bare for Y/n to read her as a childrens’ book, the Lady Lannister’s voice becoming accusatory, “So I was right. All you’ve ever wanted was to see my downfall.”
Y/n felt as though she had been slapped in the face, hating herself even as the words fell out, “No... never. Not when I loved you.”
Cersei looked back up when she heard Y/n kneeling down to her height, meeting her shining eyes as her former handmaid whispered as though she spoke a secret, “You might not see it as I do, but if I were to recall... you were the one who betrayed me first. I only returned the favor. Farewell... my lioness. I will pray for the next whore you decide to take to bed.”
The way Cersei’s face fell only made Y/n feel worse as she stood, turning to leave. The former handmaid wanted this woman to beg for her life as she once did in her own cold cell. She wanted Cersei to squeal and cry and feel her heart break as she once did, betrayed by the woman she loved. In a last ditched effort, Y/n kicked her pouch of water close to the cell door, far from Cersei if she even tried to reach it.
“No-- wait, Y/n, please-!”
Y/n hastily made her exit, slamming the cell door behind her to shut out Cersei’s pleas. As she walked down the hall, Y/n could feel a tear slip past her detection... as well as a smile of freedom.
~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hi I’m back on my bs again. It’s been a busy couple of weeks and now that I’m caught up on House of the Dragon and no longer working nights, I feel fueled to write again. Please support and leave a request in the ask box!
#cersei lannister x reader#cersei x reader#cersei lannister imagine#cersei lannister#got#got imagine#game of thrones#game of thrones imagine#asoiaf#asoiaf imagine#a song of ice and fire#cersei lannister fic#lena headey
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selfish
bf!joel x reader
fic masterlist
summary: joel has work. and you miss him.
warnings: angst, so much angst!!!, plenty of pining, both characters are stubborn, there is 0 communication, if only they would just talk to each other!!, but obviously not, why would they do that?, also reader is pregnant (no use of y/n, no outbreak, mild age gap (reader is 23, joel is 28))
word count: just under 1.2k
a/n: this is my first fic on here and idek why i've written this but i'm pining so,, T.T
it's fifteen minutes past 8 and joel is still tapping away on his keyboard, brows furrowed, lower lip between his teeth.
you've only peeked into the room to see if he's finally done, but he isn't. so you walk back out to the living room and pick up the new copy of notes from underground that you bought at the old book shop yesterday.
you'd wanted him to come with you, even told him it would be lovely to have him. but whilst the whole country took the day off for a holiday you don't particularly celebrate, joel was still in your room, still tapping away at his keyboard. with a soft sigh, you had pressed a kiss to his forehead and he'd given you a sheepish smile. I'm sure you'll love it, baby. send me loads of pictures.
so alone you'd gone, sifting through the piles and piles of unsorted books, hoping to find something nice. you'd picked up a small, tattered book about duties of couples in marriage. a wedding present signed off by a distant uncle. giggled at the silly pictures and then put it aside. more unsorted books, several copies of jane eyre, pride and prejudice, a tale of two cities (🤢 you couldn't imagine ever picking that up again, what a terrible piece of prose).
until finally, a copy of notes from underground. fyodor dostoyevsky. you'd always wanted to read dostoyevsky but you'd never considered yourself having enough time or patience for him. deep breath. no better time than the present.
so here you are, curled up in the little nook next to the fire place where only you would think to sit. it's a tight spot but you like it. it's warm and comforting and since you don't have joel's arms, the brick wall will have to do. besides you’ve got olives and vanilla ice cream to keep your cravings at bay so at least there’s that.
you'd spent your day finally getting back to the painting you'd forgotten in the back of the attic last month, followed by work on your dissertation, glancing at your phone every now and then. no messages from joel. so you'd given him a missed call like you always did to catch his attention.
joel.
hi, baby, need a sec. brb.
and you'd given him a second. ten minutes. twenty. you knew you were being needy but before this god forsaken job you'd spent every day together, curled up in each other. you'd help each other with your assignments, him pressing absent-minded kisses to your shoulders as he flipped through his architecture textbook.
nearly an hour later he'd texted you back.
hi. sorry. got carried away.
no, it's okay. how are you?
and he'd gone on a rant about work. and you'd listened. and then he was gone again.
even when he came back home, all you'd gotten was a squeeze on the arm, a kiss on the forehead and a meeting, baby.
you'd wanted to scream. but how selfish would that be? he was working. besides your dissertation was waiting for you, the cursor blinking, jeering at you for leaving it mid word.
and now it is nearly two hours later. you've both eaten dinner in separate rooms and you're reading dostoyevsky.
dostoyevsky.
the clock is mocking you. tick, tock.
tick, tock.
tick, tock, you pathetic little bitch. he is working.
tick, tock, look at you! my god. he is working!
tick, tock.
"joel?"
nothing.
"joel!"
"hmm?"
"I'm bored."
he lets out a soft tired chuckle that makes your heart warm. "want me to come dance for you?"
idiot. you tell him as much.
you get up and tip toe to your room again. "hi."
"hi, sweetheart." his hair is soft and fluffy. you push your fingers through it, watching his eyes flutter shut.
you press a soft kiss to his lips. he smiles.
"do you have any time today?" you ask him, leaning back on your hands.
you really are pathetic. but you miss it. you miss having him all to yourself every night. you miss pressing soft kisses into his jaw without having to worry about his brows furrowing and him apologising because work was demanding his attention. you miss how he'd rub the anxiety away from your chest. didn't matter what the anxiety was about, he'd always take it away from you. and now he can't, because he's always anxious himself. about work. about you. about the baby you had on the way - the baby he was working so hard for.
and you want to be selfish. you want to tell him where it hurts. sometimes you do and you see his guilty little eyes as he looks over at you and tries to take it away. but it doesn't go away anymore. and he feels so fucking guilty about it. and you only add to his stress, and then you're feeling guilty too and it's not good for either of you.
"I'll be free in a bit, sugar. I'll be off at 10. I hope."
but that's not what you want. because once he's off at 10, he'll be tired. and he should rest.
but you're selfish.
so. "no, like. do you have any time today for me?" you rephrase and watch as his shoulders slack and his eyes darken.
look how sad you've made him.
"yeah. after 10." he's blunt. cold.
and that's because you know he wants to rest. and he knows he wants to rest. and you've just been selfish again and fuck, he's getting so tired. tired of constantly being pushed to show up. to be there. for work. for you.
you’d celebrated this job with him, hadn’t you?! made him a little cake and blown up balloons. it was a good job. hard work but it paid so fucking well. the two of you had planned this baby for so long. he’d taken up a diploma so that he wouldn’t have to support you on the wages of a contractor whilst you worked on your masters. but hindsight is 20/20 and you’d much rather have a small house and a tight budget and still have joel than sit in the living room alone, day after day as he worked his ass off trying to do what’s right what any man with self-respect would do.
tears sting your eyes. you miss him. and you're so fucking pathetic, making all of this about you. he notices but doesn't comment because he's done. he's done consoling you about something he is going through too.
but you're selfish. so you stand up and walk out and he's left staring at the ghost of your perfume wondering when something will finally let up. when something will give. when you'll just understand and let him be.
until then he knows that this cycle will repeat every day. because you're selfish.
not that he'd ever think that. because he's joel and fuck he loves you.
but you know it. and your clock knows it.
you're selfish.
--
if you're reading this, thank youu xx maybe I'll write some more. idk, but I hoped you liked it. <3
just migrated from reddit back to tumblr and I didn't realise how much I missed tumblr aaaaaaa
love, d 🖤
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal as joel miller#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#tlou show#joel miller fic#pedro pascal fic#joel miller one shot#tlou angst#tlou x reader#joel miller angst
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Barbe Bleue (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst)
[Masterlist] [Taglist]
Summary: Beware, beware...
Note: This is a very much belated contribution to @zablife and her celebration. Congratulations once more - I hope you enjoy nevertheless!
All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.
Warning: death, violence, dead bodies - also quite literally pardon my french
Wordcount: 4565 words
She remembered everything about the day of their first meeting, the sun turning the sea to shining aquamarine, the terracotta tiles of the roof taking on the shade of a precious wine.
It had been a beautiful day in a beautiful place, warm, but not too warm for the children to play outside. There had been boys playing at soldiers, or outlaws, or even cowboys, and some girls playing a skipping game.
“Méfie-toi, méfie-toi, méfie-toi.”, they had sung, as the rope picked up speed, before sending one of the girls in the middle. “Première épouse, Deuxième épouse,…”
They had added to the melody of the place just like the whispering of the wind in the trees, and the waves splashing against the cliffs.
That was the day she had first met Thomas Shelby.
He was a businessman, he had said, one of many that came to these parts, yet one of few that came alone, without wives or girlfriends or mistresses. It seemed almost like he had truly been here just for business.
He had never said if this particular endeavor had been a success, but theirs had.
They had driven up to the hills, in that shiny polished car of his that he had let her drive at the end of their few days together.
Then he had invited her to London, not just said it, but paid for her travel and accommodation for the five days she was there.
During the days she had been sightseeing or shopping, with him meeting her for lunch or tea and then always in the evenings. They went to the theatre, to the opera, the ballet.
And a few months after that, they had holidayed together in Rome, eight days just him and her and la dolce vita.
By the end he had asked her to marry him - and how could she say no?
She had met many people, many men, in her time. Some were generous, some were kind, some were affectionate, some were attentive. Few were all.
Mr Thomas Shelby was one of those few.
So it was no choice at all, was it?
There was only one time where she met his family ahead of the wedding, and perhaps it was why she was so keen on memorizing all she could about them.
They were an interesting lot.
There was Mrs Gray, an aunt, who was wearing more glitter and shine than a Christmas tree, from earrings, to bracelets, necklaces and brooches.
All, she noted, the most expensive Art Deco cuts money could buy.
There was the sister, Mrs Thorne, who favoured less flashy items both in jewelry and clothes, but no less pricey. She could tell from a mile away.
There were brothers too, to go with the sister. The elder with his narrowed eyes and scarred knuckles, seemed keen to avoid her gaze.
The younger made an effort to hold her gaze, to keep his soft hands in the pockets of his tailored jacket, and his jaw muscles’ clenched.
He was a boy, she could tell, who would have taken great offence to being called that.
They were kind enough, she had to admit, but there were gazes she did not like, whispers she could not catch and words she could not place.
“She’s got some shoes to fill.”
But she knew she would be happy with Thomas, she just knew she would.
Arrow House was their home, a large country home on a sprawling piece of land. And all theirs. It had been Thomas’s for nearly a decade now, but now it would be their home, for their future.
Thrice’s the charm. That was what one of the chauffeurs had said with a shrug.
There were rules of course, as in any house. He didn’t like her in the basement, fraternising with the servants he said. What an oddly harsh way of putting it. Nor did he want her climbing to the attic. There was nothing up there and the stairs were unsafe. And who would want to have a ladder snap out from under them?
Oh and his office was to be his alone. He didn’t want her meddling in his business, not that it was of interest of her anyway, he assured her.
Not the attic, not the office, not the basement.
With all the other rooms, she could do without them, would probably never have wondered what lay behind those doors if he hadn’t made such a point of it, but it wasn’t worth starting an argument over.
There was so much else to explore!
Not just the many rooms, and the paintings on the walls, the expensive furniture, the vast library, that had predated his ownership of the house for generations, she was sure, but other fineries.
The silverware was old, she recognized quickly, but it was placed in cupboards with new china, the industrial kind, but by no means cheap. She recognised the gold rims and gold paintings on one set from a catalog a few years back, done to replicate the Fabregé style just a few years after they lost most of their customers in tragedy.
Quite…flashy.
But there was another set, also new, but in shape and colour more reminiscent of the classical style in softer colours, like the late baroque, but in the style of the European Art Deco.
Both sets seemed barely used, with even and matching numbers of plates and cups, no chips, no scratches. Two brand new sets of china just a few years apart that, apart of time and pricing, couldn’t be more different.
A few days after her discovery, she had almost forgotten it, but Frances, the housemaid asked her if, as Mistress of the House, she wanted to purchase a new set of china.
“No need to squeeze another one in the cupboards.”; she told her in the lightest tone she could muster, expecting a giggle or smile at least, since she was in charge of delegating the cleaning duties and wouldn’t welcome yet another dust collector.
Instead, the woman had grown pale.
The contents of the cupboards could only occupy her for so much, especially when compared to the gardens.
There was a traditional rose garden, with stone statues. Three looked as old as the house, but two were far less tormented by time and weather, only showing the earliest of marks.
The vegetable garden was carrying well, and as the gardeners told her, but two years from their first rotation, to keep in mind if she wanted to keep the vegetable garden.
She saw no reason to remove it.
Beyond it, just beyond the walls she could see dents in the grass where supporting pillars must’ve stood once, and up until not too long ago - but long enough for grass to regrow.
When she asked the gardeners what had stood there before that, he told her he didn’t remember, but that he would help her with any changes she wished.
Thomas had told her she could reshape the garden to whatever she desired.
“I shall take my time before making any rash decisions.”, she assured the gardener as they passed the flowerbeds with the yellow roses. “It takes time for ideas to take root, just like flowers.”
“Oh aye,”; he said without the smile she had been hoping for. “If they have enough time to get to spread them.”
How curious northern humor was!
Beyond the gardens were the stables, a large, renovated facility with extra rooms for the saddles, reins, crops and boots.
She saw men’s boots of all sizes, sturdy and worn, partly even mended.
Only in a dust covered box in the corner did she find women’s boots, a white pair and a brown one.
The white leather boots were delicately worked, yet seemed highly impractical to her. The brown pair, though made from soft leather, seemed more sturdy and reliable. They were also two thumb widths longer.
Neither shoe had been worn long enough to create true creases.
Upon spotting her discovery, the stable boy told her there was a shoemaker in London who she could seek out, but she declined.
The next time she visited the stables, with Thomas, the box had disappeared. What a shame, she had liked the azure-painted wood. It had always been her favourite colour.
And the time she went to retrieve the silver candelabra, she found the shelves below void of both baroque pastels and gold shimmer.
How strange.
What remained though were the outlines in the tapestry she could spot on her way up and down the stairs. There were two, where there was almost a pale shadow behind paintings of horses, peaking out behind the frames. One shadow had almost disappeared if the morning light didn’t betray it, but another was more noticeable.
Still, she didn’t like the case of the disappearing china. It wasn’t her taste, of course, but she had quite liked the way the pale blue looked against the white of the cup.
Of course, she could have asked Frances or the maids, but she was nothing if not a self-reliant woman. Where would one put old china? The basement? The office? The attic?
Certainly not the office, she thought, giggling at her own joke, so she opted to try the attic.
Careful as not to lose balance or break through the old wood, she crept upward, only to find it truly reliable.
The attic was as all attics were, with old furniture, forgotten trinkets and a few suitcases.
She wouldn’t have spared them a second glance if she had not noticed a peaking shimmer of silver from a fray that had snuck out from its leathery prison.
Her curiosity sparked, she opened them.
Each and every one of the suitcases were filled with clothes, suitcase upon suitcase of women’s clothes from stockings and underwear, to fur-lined winter coats. As always, the sparkling evening dresses captured her attention most of all - the shimmer and shine, the beads and glittery frays.
But not all the dresses were at similar lengths, in fact, about half the dresses would be too short for her to wear, while the other half would be too long.
How strange - especially since they were both in the fashion of the last decade, after the war and the stagnation that came after, created in the rush of the new world, with wider cuts, shorter skirts and blinding shimmer and shine.
It was a true shame to leave such pieces rotting in the attic but she didn’t know who they belonged to, Mrs Grey? Some were certainly flashy enough? Mrs Throne - some perhaps.
Either way, the gowns were all so very recognisable, she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by being seen wearing another woman’s clothes.
~
While Thomas’s office was forbidden to her, and perhaps in exchange too, she had an office of her own, looking over the gardens, with a plush sofa, a delicate writing desk, and freshly cropped flowers brought to her each day.
Next to the sofa was a small side table with two drawers. In the first was nothing, emptied out to be filled with her heart's desire.
In the second, she found anything to avert a spontaneous catastrophe, from handkerchiefs, to needle and thread, and a little envelope holding buttons in case one came loose.
What a thrifty choice, especially since she knew that Frances and the maids had sewing supplies downstairs.
Still, any well-educated girl should be able to sew her own cuff buttons back on, and inside. She found a collection of those.
Only upon folding it again, did she see the letterhead identifying the sender.
Mrs T. Shelby it read, in dark red, almost maroon lettering.
She thought nothing of it, except that her predecessor must’ve been either a very serious woman, or a very professional one. It looked almost like the kind of font used for company writing rather than a private letterhead.
She knew, of course she knew, that there had been a Mrs Shelby before her.
Thomas had told her all about that - well, not all about it, but she knew of her and that their marriage did not end on good terms.
What more did she need to know? She certainly didn’t care for much else.
The previous Mrs Shelby didn’t seem to be missed much by his family as they never spoke a hint of her, nor the staff. Besides, she was Mrs Shelby now. What should she concern herself with the previous one?
Does spring wonder how winter’s tidings fared?
~
Most unfortunately for her, Thomas was frequently away on business, and she soon found herself forced to find use for her time. Eventually, even she relented and began to browse the bookshelves. Most were old classics that were better known than read, and dry books of law and higher learning.
Occasionally she spotted a book of poetry, or geography or history. One book did indeed catch her interest - a book about the unfortunate wives of the increasingly unshaped Henry VIII.
She remembered a sing-song game about the man, skipping back and forth on chalk-bordered lines: “Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived.”, all aiming of course for the last and most fortunate spot. As a child she had done so too. Of course now she knew that Anna of Cleeve had the greatest luck - and sense - of all of them.
Beside it was a book on yet another Queen who through no fault of her own came to miss her head, and as she pulled out the book she had selected in the hope of familiarising herself more with her new homeland, it caught in the binding and was thrown off the shelves.
As she picked it up, she noticed the folded letter paper someone had used as a bookmark between the pages.
On it was a list of names, three for boys, three for girls.
Charles - Alexander - John - Sophie - Marjorie - Jane
The names were of no concern to her, not compared to what she saw printed on top of the page.
Mrs T. Shelby.
In purple, looped writing.
Her thumb brushed over it, tracing the looped S, the hooped L, the way the letters were all strung together in a girlish way, like the first word of a fairy tale in a children’s book.
Not at all professional.
And a complete clash with maroon.
~
She did not mention the letter and envelope to Thomas, much like the dresses. But this time it wasn’t for lack of thought.
In truth it was anything but - she thought in professional maroon writing, and breathed in looped purple lettering, the contrast, the mismatch, the utter dissonance making her temples throb.
It was the same temple Thomas caressed as he pushed hair out of her face, saying how much he would enjoy a portrait of hers to hang in his study.
It wasn’t an unreasonable request - many new paintings adorned his walls, of him and his brothers, standing, a horse, or even sitting in a group. Some included his sister and aunt, while others contained just the woman.
The only reason someone should own more than one painting of oneself is if one owned more than one house to show them in.
Her husband seemed to disagree.
In fact, he seemed very keen on it.
She could tell by the clothes the women wore and the hair they had when they had been immortalised when they had been painted.
It was more difficult with the ever-so-boring clothing choice of the men.
“Frances?”, she asked one afternoon, looking at the large family portrait in the dining room.
“Mrs Shelby?”
“Where is the painting of the previous Mrs Shelby?”, she wanted to know.
“Mrs Shelby?”, the older woman said, sounding almost frightened at her suggestion.
“I’d like to see it please.”
“Tha- there is no portrait here.”, she stammered, shifting uncomfortably.
“No?”, she asked. “Where is it?”
“Gone.”, Frances quickly said and rushed to leave.
Gone. Maybe so, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know where it was gone from, not when she so clearly saw the thin line of paler tapestry peeking out behind the painting of the horse, or the lining on top of the painting of the doe in the forest.
Two signs, two paintings.
It wouldn’t be unusual for a man who had not one but four paintings of himself in his house to have more than one of his wife.
But as she looked at the horse and the doe, she did wonder if one maybe showed a woman in purple and the other a woman in maroon.
From the window she could look out to where the gardener’s children were playing, a game of skipping rope.
It brought back the memories of that very first day, and the melody the girls had been chirping.
Méfie-toi, méfie-toi, méfie-toi.
The shoes disappeared, just like the china had done, and she was sure if she had told a soul of the suitcases in the attic they would suffer the same fate if they hadn’t already. The letter paper and envelope could burn, or be hidden easily, but not the outline on the walls, no matter how little of it was shown.
She knew because she passed them every single day, and every single day she would let her eyes confirm what could not be erased. Father time remained undefeated - flowers wilted, women aged, colours faded, some to light, some to dark, but they faded all the same and once the petals had dropped, once the wrinkle had formed, there was no smoothing it back out again.
But she wasn’t there yet, not quite, and she knew well how to play her part, and so she took great care in wearing the jewelry Thomas not only bought her, all his money did that, but picked them out himself.
They were neither the most exquisite nor the most tasteful of her collection, but wearing it was what a good wife did and would undoubtedly please him greatly and the last thing she wanted was for him to stop buying her jewelry.
So she wore the necklace, and the matching earrings and the matching bracelet she had gotten over the course of a year - birthday, wedding anniversary and Christmas respectively, but the pins she clasped in her delicately laid hair were her own.
Just a little touch of elegance wouldn’t hurt, not that many would understand. Tonight's extravagance was for business partners she had never heard of, as, like her aunt-in-law so generously put it, insight to family business only extended to blood.
On the way down, as the silks of her gown whispered against her thighs, she could see the outlines of the replaced paintings even in the flickering lights that illuminated the rooms for the night.
But while the electricity was fickle, her smile never failed, nor did the sharpness of her gaze.
Just because it was not hers to know, did not mean she had no interest in finding out.
After most were on the closing sips of their first glass of champagne, Thomas and Arthur and a few other men moved onto a more private discussion for which a change of scenery seemed necessary.
She saw them leave through the door to the library but when she went there for some much needed air, it was empty.
That only left a return to the hallway, which was filled with guests, or the servant’s staircase at the back.
Not up, she thought, someone who took such great care to remove themselves from a situation would not then choose the option that limited their movement further.
So down it was, to the kitchens and cellars and storage rooms.
All day there had been a hassle to rival the preparations for war, with everything being prepared only to the finest of standards, clattering of pots and pans, shouting of a handful of cooks over a dozen kitchen helpers, the murmur of honest work being completed.
Now there was anything but.
Granted, they had settled the menu for tonight to allow for maximum flexibility, but that did not mean the complete absence of work, nor of people.
A lady of the house snooping about in the kitchens, of course only to inquire after the selection of brandy Thomas ought to have made for after dinner, if asked, would not go unnoticed- if there was anyone left to notice.
But it was as if all birds had escaped the cage, all chickens fluttered out the den, all horses escaped the pasture. There was no sound, no sight, nothing but the buzzing of the event upstairs.
Until she smelled the smoke of the cigarettes coming from behind the kitchen.
Walking on her tiptoes to prevent her heels from giving herself away, she crept closer, until she could touch the cold wall, just below where the window was tilted open to let the kitchen smoke escape - and now let the cigarette smoke in.
“-....gotta change me shirt before we get back.”, she heard Thomas say, followed by a slight, strained cough. For a man so keen on appearances, he was so easy to slip back into his old speech patterns when with his brother. Such a mistake was so easily and obviously avoidable, but when in the company of Arthur, it was a certainty for him.
“Yeah, yeah, you do that Tom. I’ll just get some boys to clean up the mess in the meat room.”, she heard her brother-in-law mumble.
She removed herself quickly, if either one of them decided to use the kitchen door to get back in and held her breath until she knew it was clear.
How strange - that Arthur would want the meat room cleaned in the middle of a party, she thought, as she kept her company with the storage boxes of wine, both new and those predating her husband’s purchase of the house.
It was an easy guessing game of which was which, but not one she was interested in, and with Arthur’s promise to return quickly, she’d have to move quicker still.
Glancing left and right, before she reached for the door knob, she was surprised to find it locked.
The easy thing would have been to ask Frances or the cook for a key, as they both had one or to retrieve the spare key in the butler’s office, the appropriate thing would have been to return to the celebration. The smart thing, the only thing that would satiate her more, was to pull one of her bejeweled hair pins out of the back of her updo and twirl it between her fingers.
Locks were so much like men, one just had to know which buttons to press and how to do it, but after a bit of fumbled wiggling, both inevitably gave in.
It opened with a slight click, making her heart flutter with excitement, as she pushed it open with her shoulder, gathering her skirts in anticipation of the unsavory stains of blood and worse that would stain the white tiled rooms.
But when she looked up, she was met with eyes, a pair of warm brown eyes ripped wide open as if surprised to see her - only they didn’t see her. They couldn’t see her.
The pin slipped from her hands as she clasped them tightly over her face to keep herself from screaming, disappearing in a scarlet puddle as she stared at the man, at his eyes, his parted lips, and the metal hook that had been driven through his throat, holding his lifeless body up at the place where he had met his end.
There was another, further back, his body slumped to the side like a forgotten sack of coal, with his face turned away from her, blood still seeping out from under him.
And there was a third, laying on the table where the butchers would prepare the game after a hunt, his hand but an inch from a cleaver, still reaching it seemed.
One. Two. Three.
All men she had seen just moments ago, with life in their eyes and strength in their limbs as they left the dining room for the library - left with Arthur and Thomas.
She did not even realise she was running until she reached the door to their bedroom, her mind remembering in the very last moment that Thomas had spoken about changing, so she turned in the opposite direction, all the way down the hall to one of the countless guest rooms.
They would house some guest or cousin for the night who had already unpacked, but she didn’t care as she slammed the door shut, her fingers slipping again and again as she turned the lock.
She wanted to scream, to hurl, to curl up in the corner and weep, for herself as much as the three she had seen. She wanted to fill her coat lining with jewels and run, run straight to the train station, on a ship - to the Americas, or Australia, or Africa - anywhere, anywhere but here.
But she couldn’t leave.
She couldn’t stay here either. Soon she would be missed, if she wasn’t already. No, she had to go down. She had to smile, to talk, to drink, to dance because if she didn’t the guests would know, and worse, Thomas would know.
Her whole body tensed as if the muscles wanted to burst forth, escaping the prison of her skin like rats scurrying away from a sinking ship as she pressed her palms against the wood of the door, forcing herself to breathe, to calm herself, to think - to think on everything that happened, to draw on everything she knew.
She’d survive this, she’d have to. If anyone could, it would be her.
When she turned she could see her reflection in the mirror glass, the abyss of nighttime beyond, painted lips, perfect hair, jewels given by her husband and a silk gown tailored to perfection.
She was the image of elegance and perfection, and when she smiled, no one would ever know. No one could ever know. She would not let them.
By the time she had descended down the stairs, not even her hand was shaking anymore, only her heart was thundering in her chest. It was the only part of her body she could not control, the only thing she could not subjugate to her will, not as she talked to the guests, not as she took her husband's arm, not as she beamed and clapped for his toast.
It thumped and thumped and thumped.
Only in the mingling after the drinks, between billiards and card games, in the haze of exotic cigars did she see Arthur and Thomas talking again, their backs turned.
As if feeling her gaze, Thomas turned.
She smiled at him, the perfect, perfect wife, before turning back to the guest she was talking to, an older woman who had been telling her about her granddaughters.
They would be of an age, she thought, with the girls she had watched that very first time she had met Tommy.
In that very moment the thumping of her heart seemed to match the rhythm of a skipping rope, being hurled through the air in a shadowed street on a distant shore, perfectly in sync with the bright laughter of girls and the song they sang.
“Méfie-toi, méfie-toi, méfie-toi de Barbe-Bleue.“
Taglist
Overall
@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms @midnightmagpiemama @adaydreamaway08 @trixie23
Tommy
@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik @elenavampire21 @evanore @dandelionprints
#valentineswritings#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#peaky blinders#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby / reader#tommy shelby & reader#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby / reader#thomas shelby & reader#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby x reader imagine#thomas shelby x reader imagine#peaky blinders imagine#barbe bleue
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Dick: I got married in Italy
Dick: Am I saying you copied me by getting married in Italy?
Dick: Who played at my wedding? Andrea Bocelli
Dick: Who played at Jason’s wedding? *gasps* Andrea Bocelli!
Dick: YOU STOLE MY FUCKING WEDDING COUNTRY AND MY FUCKING WEDDING PERFORMER
#batfamily#batfam#incorrect quotes#bruce wayne#jason todd#batman#damian wayne#tim drake#dick grayson
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Everyone needs a break.
Please stop asking the mods @captregina, @rogersstorm2005, @acircleofstars, and @mid-westmonster the same questions about this fake wedding. They're exhausted on so many levels because of it.
They have told you time and time again that this is PR, and this will be over in it's own time. They have said this from Day One, and their stance is not going to change, no matter how much you try to convince them otherwise.
I personally have had to unfollow and block some Team Real blogs in here, and I know very little about PR. Even I know that something isn't right here.
Why would have a wedding article, a wedding exclusive that is being covered by 500 gossip sites, every magazine known to man, and keep changing the dates, locations, times, adding a guest list, then have a second wedding in Portugal in a short amount time? You can't have a second wedding in a short amount of time in another country without immigration taking notice and being pissed off about it, as it's been explained to you so many times now. I'm no immigration expert, but I'm starting to feel like one. The paperwork would have to be filed well in advance for that, and you would be going through everything with a caseworker, as it's been explained.
You also wouldn't have an article about the wedding and a separate article about the nazi porn troll being the one for Chris. No, you would put that into the article about the wedding in the form of a short paragraph. You would also sell the rights to your wedding to only one magazine, and that would be it. You don't have 500 articles that are being copied and pasted, added too, and twisting words to fit a narrative based on what DM says and based on what a few colorful tumblr blogs say. No.
The tents were for a kids birthday party. If there was a wedding, everyone in Concord, Cape Cod, Carlisle and Boston would have seen something even remotely close to it, but they never seen anything. I lived in a small town for four years, and people will talk.
The nazi porn troll was busy doing her own thing in Portugal.
His family and the Marvel cast would be there. Instead, his family was running errands and spending some time together, Chris was spending time doing his own thing and setting up for his niece's birthday party. Emily Blunt and John Krasinski were at the U.S. Open with their daughters. The Seb was in NYC at a baby shower, Mackie was doing his own thing, Chris Hemsworth was promoting his line of fitness products, ScarJo was promoting her makeup line, Jeremey was promoting his vodka brand at a bar that Chris's friends own. Not everything in Boston revolves around Chris. Not everyone revolves around Chris. Not everything in Hollywood revolves around Chris.
You also wouldn't have his team remove the sentence claiming that the nazi porn troll is his wife from Wiki, or anything related to her, once on Monday. That was their way of saying that this situation is BS. Once this whole thing stops snowballing, they will go and lock everything and remove everything.
I don't know how else they could have explained that this wedding never happened, it's fake. There are so many things that make everything inconsistent here. The math ain't mathing.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
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These are my personal observations and not facts!
Asteroid Fan(151590) conjunct Mars means that your fans become aggressive towards you. The admiration turns to envy and competition. They will also be very interested in your sex life.
If you have Lie(3550) conjunct Moon you might have had to lie a lot in your childhood since you had to protect yourself. It can also indicate that your mother lies to you a lot.
Blewett(22927) in synastry indicates a relationship that will end badly.
Someone with Asteroid Chaos (19521) conjunct Mercury has the ability to create chaos with what they say. They create conflicts wherever they go.
Asteroid Psyche(16) in Libra needs a peaceful environment to feel good.
Nemesis(128)conjunct Lilith means you make enemies because of your appearance and sexuality. Secret enemies might hate you for things that has to do with those topics.
Juno(3) in the 1st house loves to take pictures with their partner and show them off on social media.
Ceres(1) conjunct Mars sees working out as a form of self care.
Boda(1487) conjunct Jupiter means that your wedding will take place in another country or that you meet your spouse while on vacation.
People with Groom(5129)conjunct Sun easily loose their identity in a relationship. They see themselves as an extension of their partner. They might change their looks to fit their partners preference. Their existence revolves around their relationship
Any asteroid conjunct the Sun is something that is so ingrained in your personality and who you are that you dont even notice it:
Lilith conjunct the Sun: being sexual and being true to who you are and your beliefs comes natural to you. You just wont back down and have a hard time understanding people who just follow the rules without questioning them.
Nessus conjunct Sun: being abusive and sensing other peoples weak spots comes naturlly to you. You cant help but instantly notice weakness and have to control yourself not to attack.
Dejanira conjunct Sun: Being victimized by others happens everywhere you go. You feel bad for yourself a lot without even thinking about it because you are used to being a victim.
One thing that ive noticed with Lilith dominant people is that they are good at ”handling situations” like they are the person you should call if someone is blackmailing you or threathening you. They do not take stuff like this lightly. Remember how Lilith refused to lay under Adam.
Circe (34) and Medusa (149) aspecting Ascendant or in the 1st house means that men will punish you for their own lust. Men feel a strong sexual desire for you that they feel uncomfortable with and it can result in them punishing you for it. Men might act catty and nasty towards you. Having this aspect as a woman also means that you support other women and take their side over the mans side. In the myths both these women were punished for being lusted after and Circe was seen as a dangerous witch.
Copy: 151590, 3550, 22927, 19521, 3, 1, 1487, 5129, 34, 149, 16
© 2022 Zeldas Notes
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Our Son Got Married
Part 2
I was the officiant
I was honored when Brady and Cloe asked me to officiate their wedding. In the state of Maine you must be an ordained minister or a public official (ex. judge) to officiate a wedding. I paid $15 to American Marriage Ministries and was ordained a minister. (You may call me Reverend Mike if you wish).
I drafted a script for the ceremony and let Brady and Cloe choose which parts they wanted to do. For example, they chose to exchange vows, but didn't want the part where I ask the congregation if anyone objects. Likewise, they wanted to keep the ring exchange simple. There's really only one required portion of the ceremony, and that is the declaration... "Do you Brady take Cloe to be... etc., etc." Brady and Cloe wrote their own vows and to say they were inspiring and heartfelt is an understatement. Half the congregation was tearful when they finished.
The only real opportunity for creativity for me as the officiant is the invocation. I chose to use this time to welcome the guests, say a few words about Brady and Cloe and talk about marriage in general. I'm very proud of what I wrote; you can read it below the cut.
When friends heard that I'd be officiating, they suggested attempting to inject humor into the ceremony - perhaps by copying other funny wedding scenes like Mr. Bean's performance in Four Weddings and Funeral or the marriage scene in The Princess Bride. I played it straight however and the ceremony was flawless.
Mike's Invocation
Please be seated.
Thank you everyone for making the trip to this beautiful place. Speaking on behalf of Brady and Cloe as well my wife Beth and Cloe’s parents, Ken and Beth, we are honored by your presence. We are also mindful of loved ones who can’t be with us today; we know they would join us if they could.
As the officiant of this wedding, I have several official responsibilities. My most important responsibility, however, is to make sure that Brady and Cloe understand the commitment they are about to make and are prepared to keep that commitment.
I’ve studied their relationship closely and spoken to them individually and together and I’m pleased to report that they will make a great married couple. I say that with confidence because over the last 8 years they have passed with flying colors the Relationship Tests of Strength.
They have
Worked together. In fact, this is how they met; working together at the Indiana University Foundation and each secretly hoping for office hours which overlapped with the other.
Traveled together, including international travel to countries where they didn’t speak the language.
Moved to a city which was completely foreign to both of them (Boston) and have together moved from one apartment to another.
Supported each other through rigorous professional examinations (the CPA exam for Brady and the Bar exam for Cloe), which they both passed.
Tackled home improvement projects together, including relationship test, hanging wallpaper in a bathroom together.
Sheltered in place together; working demanding jobs from a small apartment during a global pandemic. They’ve even worked together to modify that arrangement at this wedding venue with just a few days’ notice.
And finally, with little or no discernable skills, experience, or appropriate equipment, they have gone camping together. Repeatedly.
As the married couples here will attest, surviving any one of these Relationship Tests of Strength is cause for celebration. And yet despite these tests Cloe, who claims that she liked Brady first, still describes him as thoughtful, patient, empathetic and curious. Brady, who thought that Cloe was just too cool and definitely out of his league, still describes her as compassionate, thoughtful and beautiful. Brady and Cloe are outstanding individuals, and they are about to become an even more outstanding married couple.
But enough about Brady and Cloe… let’s talk about all of us.
Each of our lives is composed of almost endless choices and possibilities. Some people like to think of doors opening and closing, but I envision myself walking a trail through life with paths before me – each decision holding the possibility of new paths and new destinations. Most decisions and events in our life don’t alter our direction very much if at all. What I chose to eat for breakfast this morning isn’t going to affect the course of my life.
Occasionally, however, a decision or event changes our course dramatically. These are the moments when I can literally feel the universe shift. That’s what it feels like to me. The universe shifts. Entire worlds of new possibilities suddenly appear while others just as suddenly evaporate. You know those moments… choosing what college you’re going to attend, starting a new job, moving to a new part of the world, the beginning or ending of a romantic relationship, the death of a loved one or the birth of a child. These are moments which are frozen in time and shine in our memory.
In my experience, the most extraordinary, universe-shifting decisions are the ones we choose to make together; those special moments when we choose to bend our paths to be nearer to one another. What we are about to witness in a few minutes isn’t just the universe shifting for Brady and Cloe; the universe is about to shift for all of us. Their decision, their commitment to love one another other alters the path for everyone here. Their paths will be forever entwined as will be the paths of all of us.
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Of Snakes and Kitten
Since I love them so much, I did a Oberyn x Reader x Ellaria story
It was perfectly normal for the nobles of Westeros to arrange marriages between their children to form alliances between their houses and kingdoms.
But with soulmates, there were a few exceptions.
Some were crazy romantics, considering that fate should not be gone against, and others were lucky enough to be linked to an influential member of another house.
As soon as the mark appeared on their skin, copies were made and sent around the world, hoping that another important family would respond, announcing that one of their own was the lucky one, and that a wedding could take place.
Y/N had nothing to do with politics. Daughter of a lesser noble in the Kingdom of Vale, she spent her days reading and walking in the woods. Balls could be fun, she liked to chat and dance with her friends, but she did not receive the attention of young men, who preferred the other girls in her house.
It didn't matter, as her mother often told her, because one day she would meet her soulmate, who would love her more than anything.
She wasn't quite sure how to react when a raven brought the name of the one meant for her.
Oberyn Nymeros Martell, Prince of Dorne.
The man, nicknamed the Red Viper, had a certain... reputation.
He had been discovered in the bed of a noble's lover when he was only sixteen, and had poisoned the old man during their fight. Since then he had had many other conquests, both male and female, in almost every kingdom, and he was often with his paramour, Ellaria Sand, who bore him eight daughters.
No doubt he had many more bastards, whether he was aware of it or not.
Y/N tried to stay positive during the boat trip that took her to Dorne. If they were soulmates, that meant something. It had to.
And when she arrived in this magnificent country, with this ocean, this sand, these colours, and this smiling prince who welcomed her with a soft kiss on her hand, Y/N wanted to believe it.
The wedding not having to be celebrated before several days, they took the opportunity to spend time together and get to know each other better.
Oberyn was the sweetest man she had ever met, polite, funny, kind, cultivated.
Oh, he clearly liked to flirt, but he remained respectful, not touching her without permission. He showed her around the palace, the library, the gardens, the private beach, the city, and Y/N tried desperately not to look like a child excited by each new discovery, in vain. This did not seem to displease the prince.
"You are so adorable, my sunshine. Like a kitten, you roam your new territory with curiosity and admiration, but looking upset to be seen in such a state. Have fun, little kitten. You don't have need to pretend here."
Being noble, and a woman, Y/N knew that wasn't true. With King Doran and the rest of the court, she was very careful.
It was the same with Ellaria Sand and her daughters. In the beginning anyway. Y/N was very intimidated by her soulmate's paramour, still wondering if she was going to poison her by serving her wine or kissing her. Ellaria was very friendly, and very tactile with her.
Almost as much as with Oberyn.
They touched almost every time they saw each other. Yet Ellaria didn't seem to be doing it to make Y/N jealous or show her that he was hers. Beautiful and fascinating, the Sand Snake was dancing around her.
"I'm glad that you are his soulmate. I was afraid to meet an idiot, or a whore. But you're so pretty, so sweet. Yes, Oberyn is right, a real kitten."
"... You didn't meet your soulmate ?" Y/N asked shyly, letting her caress her cheek.
"No. I'm not looking for them. I love Oberyn. I love the other lovers I meet on my way. I love being free. And again, I'm really, really happy that you're here, and that we've met."
The proposal was obvious. Ellaria wasn't just willing to share, she really enjoyed Y/N, and maybe that could have worked.
But Oberyn did not seem as enthusiastic as his paramour. Certainly they spent time together, but he kept a certain distance between himself and Y/N. Maybe he wasn't so glad that she was his soulmate. Maybe he just wasn't happy about having a soulmate and being forced to get married.
After all, he too was known to love his freedom.
The day before the wedding, Y/N surprised him with several lovers and she understood then that he would never change, not for her.
Above all, he would never love her, not as she loved him, not as she would have liked to be loved.
This hurt her deeply. She cried all night, mourning her ridiculous childhood dream, when she should have known that since no one had ever loved her before, it would never happen.
She did not eat during the banquet and hardly spoke during her marriage, except to answer the priest.
Although he didn't love her, her husband was not cruel, and Oberyn noticed something was wrong. She didn't answer him when he asked her if she felt okay once they were in her room, just taking off her clothes and going to lie down on the bed.
He stared at her for a long moment before leaving without touching her.
The following weeks were terrible. The two spouses avoided each other like plague, Y/N staying either in her bedroom or in the library, trying to hide her sadness and tame her depression.
Ellaria was trying to help. It didn't help. If the prince had to choose, Y/N was sure he would take his paramour. But she couldn't blame him, he had known her longer, she was the mother of his children, and she was beautiful.
She couldn't blame Ellaria either. In other circumstances, she would probably even have considered her a friend, always there for her, gentle, patient, clever.
With great tenderness, she stayed with Y/N, combing her hair, checking that she was eating properly and stroking her hand like a lover.
"Talk to me, my kitten." she purred as she sat down next to her. "Tell me why you are so upset."
"... That's stupid."
"I don't believe a word of it, because you're not stupid. I don't like to see you like that. Neither does Oberyn. He doesn't know what to do to cheer you up, he is afraid of having done something wrong and he hides himself at the other end of the palace."
"He didn't do anything wrong, it was I who expected too much from him."
"You're saying too much or not enough, kitten. What did you expect from this fool ?"
Tired, Y/N explained her dreams, her hopes, her lonely childhood, her doubts, her fears. She would have liked so much that her prince would make her forget all that, but it was not possible. He wasn't what she had imagined, and she couldn't blame him.
She just needed time to accept the situation.
"My father wrote to me." she continued without looking at Ellaria. "He asks me when I think I'll bear an heir. I don't want the prince to force himself to be with me if he doesn't want to, but..."
"My kitten. My kitten, that's the first stupid thing you've said since we met. Don't move."
Very quickly she returned with Oberyn, visibly sad to see her like this, and sorry to have hurt her. They didn't really have time to talk. The Red Viper and the Sand Snake wrapped themselves around Y/N to cover her with kisses and caresses.
No doubt that was how we talked in Dorne.
"You're shaking my kitten. Poor little darling, so touch starved."
"The people of the North are real idiots." the prince muttered as he kissed her, before turning to Ellaria to take her lips.
The pleasure was intense. Oberyn and Ellaria were truly gifted and caring lovers, and Y/N did not regret the experience.
But a thought gnawed at her as soon as they were done, and continued to plague her mind each time they found themselves in bed together.
Because they were always together, the three of them.
And yes, it was good. Very good. Yes, she loved them. But did that mean something, that her husband was never alone with her ? Did Ellaria have to be there for him to feel desire ? Was she used to make him forget Y/N so that he could fulfill his duty ?
It didn't really seem to be working, because after two months she still wasn't pregnant, and that was soon to be a problem. It couldn't come from Oberyn, he had already had children.
She requested an audience with King Doran to discuss this matter.
"I don't understand what I can do for you, dear sister."
"You are the King, and you know better than anyone what is good for your kingdom. If I can't have children, then maybe it would be better if I left and your brother married someone else."
"You are soulmates, that would be absurd. There is no one better for him. Either way, it will be his decision."
The prince was not pleased to learn what had been said during this exchange. He didn't understand why Y/N hadn't come to see him. Finding her alone in the gardens, he pinned her against a pillar, forcing her to look at him.
"I am the second born. My brother already has children. I already have children. So if you don't give me an heir, it doesn't matter to me. I would be happy if you got pregnant, but know that the children of Dorne are all made in love, not out of obligation."
For a brief moment, Y/N thought she saw something dangerous in his eyes, beastly, and she thought he was going to take her here, but Oberyn just kissed her forehead before leaving.
Yes, the children of Dorne were made in love.
And Oberyn didn't love her. That explained why she didn't get pregnant. That was what she said to Ellaria as they drank wine on the beach, watching the sunset.
"You two..." sighed the Sand Snake. "You really are soulmates. You are lovely idiots. My lovely idiots. Guess I'm going to have to step in again."
"But..."
"Hush, kitten. The maid will take you back to the palace, I have to talk to our prince who doesn't understand anything."
This time, when Oberyn ran into her room, he was alone, and he looked desperate, gently cupping her face in his hands with a pleading look.
"Tell me that you know I love you. Tell me."
"My prince, you don't have to..."
"Yes, I'm a prince and I don't have to do anything. Exactly. I love you. I love you, I love you, I'll tell you until you believe me. I loved you when you got off the boat. When you smiled at the children of the city. When you marvelled at my kingdom. When your eyes sparkled in the library. When your laughter broke out in the gardens. When you kissed my girls. When you accepted Ellaria. I love you, not because you are my soulmate or I have no choice. You are so precious, my kitten, my sunshine, so bright, so beautiful. I curse all the people who made you believe otherwise. You are the most lovely person I have ever met. I love you as much as I love Ellaria. The others don't matter, I don't need to them, now that I have you. Forgive me. I didn't want to force you, I didn't want to overwhelm you. Everything is new to you, and your customs are different. I wanted to give you time and space. But If you want me, I'll always be by your side. I am an excellent lover, but I can be silly. I... I wrote you poems."
"Kiss me."
The next day, Ellaria was delighted to find them entwined in the bed, and she was even happier the day Y/N began to vomit.
Y/N didn't understand why, it wasn't fun to be sick, unless the Sand Snake had finally decided to poison her. Oberyn too was surprised to see her so cheerful, but his paramour continued to smile, before looking at his soulmate's belly.
The prince then let out a cry of joy as he leapt from his chair to run towards Y/N and spin her around in the air, before kissing her and her stomach.
"Really ?!" he asked.
"Re... Really what ?"
"I think so." Ellaria purred. "I will look for a healer."
The pregnancy was quickly confirmed, and celebrated by both kingdoms as a promising sign for their political and economic alliance.
It didn't matter to Y/N, Oberyn and Ellaria. The two snakes focused on the well-being of their lover, doing everything so that she lacked nothing. As their paramour played with the girls, Y/N turned to her husband.
"Do you… Do you think it will be a girl again, or do you want a boy ?"
"I don't care. It will be our child, whom we will cherish."
We meaning the three of them, as always.
As a child, Y/N had hoped to be happy and loved by meeting her soulmate. Now she had two lovers, eight daughters and a baby who would be pampered by this huge family.
#oberyn martell#oberyn martell x ellaria sand#oberyn martell x reader#oberyn martell fanfiction#ellaria sand#ellaria sand x reader#oberyn martell x ellaria sand x reader
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PART ONE
We’ve Come A Long Way, Baby
a tom holland imagine
You can access the part two here: PART TWO
PAIRINGS: tom holland x female!reader
SUMMARY: you reminisce the journey that both you and Tom had ventured, and how far the both of you have come, before officially tying the knot.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hello, i’ll be posting an imagine for the meantime >< this will have a part 2, i decided to split this imagine in two parts because for the next part i want to solely focus on the wedding. let me know if you like it! enjoy reading!
REMINDER: this is purely fiction, this is a product of the author’s (me) imagination. this work is originally written by me, do not in any way repost or copy my work.
WORD COUNT: 3,500
WARNINGS: none, just pure fluff!
DIVIDER BY: @v6que
You reminisce the journey that both you and Tom had ventured together, and how far the both of you have come, before officially tying the knot.
The Meeting
You and Tom had met in London, you had decided to move to London to be more independent, you entered University of Oxford and pursued your career in law. You had met Tom at a party of a mutual friend, and you don’t know him at all, you literally have no idea of who he is. So when your mutual friend had introduced you to each other and your friend mentioning that Tom’s a famous actor, the look on your face was priceless because you don’t know him at all. You don’t know his movies and actually never heard of him in your whole life, and you were embarrassed. But Tom was really chill about it, he doesn’t mind that you don’t know him, it even made him feel better because at least someone treated him normal for once, and from there, you two had clicked.
It was months of texts and calls, back and forth. He was always away for filming and you are busy attending your classes and finishing your degree, until on your graduation day, he had finally asked you to be his girlfriend. It was the best birthday present that you had ever received. Since he’s a well known figure, you two decided to keep your relationship under the wraps, that is until a year into your relationship, you had been spotted together by a paparazzi walking around LA. Where you had visited him one time during his filming, and that’s when you decided to make your relationship public. Your relationship had been receiving nothing but support from his fans, you couldn’t care less about the negative comments. As long as you both love each other, that is only what matters the most.
Tom had already introduced you to his family, and his mother, Nikki, had never been more thrilled that he’s son is dating a very beautiful and amazing woman, she’s also glad that she’s no longer the only woman in the household. Suddenly, out of nowhere, it led him to question how come he had never met your family or know something about your family since you never talk about your family with him. He knew nothing of your family background, until he was scrolling one time on his twitter account and saw a post of a photo of him and you that he had posted in his instagram, that he was not dating an average person, he was literally dating an heir, on both sides of your parents. When he had approached you about this, you had explained it to him—he was a bit sad, but he fully understand afterwards, and on the very next day, you two found yourself on a plane ride back to your home country and had arranged a schedule for him to meet your family. He was a nervous wreck, but you had assured him him that everything will be alright.
When you had first introduced Tom to your family, they had mixed opinions about him. You’re brothers found it cool that you’re dating the Tom Holland, the spider-man, your brothers are a big fan of marvel, so when you told them that you don’t know who spider-man is, they educated you about the marvel cinematic universe and sat you down to watch a hundred of marvel films—which had been a lot for you to take in. They had questioned Tom’s intentions as well with you, like the big brothers that they are, but when they saw that he’s a nice and down to earth guy, a few drinks, and bonding over golf, they know that he’s a keeper and supported you both through and through.
As for your parents, they’re skeptical because they don’t really know what was Tom’s intentions with you. You had been through a long list of relationships, and each relationships that you had back then were only for convenience, they dated you just to use you and your family’s connections. You were privileged enough in life, you had been born with a golden spoon in your mouth. You are born into one of the wealthiest and influential family, you can say that you’re quite well known, but you never really flaunt it like the usual wealthy kids do, and you’re pretty much the darling sweetheart of your home country. Not to mention that you’re the only woman in your family, and your family is very protective of you, they want their princess to be with someone who is deserving of their princess. But eventually, they warmed up to Tom, your father had bonded with him through golf as well just like your brothers. They can see that Tom is a really good match for you.
You chuckled at the memory. Both you and Tom had been through a lot of ups and downs, it had really been an emotional roller coaster for the both of you, a lot of challenges, but you both had managed to get past through it. It just proved how strong is your love for each other, and that was when you had decided that he’s the man that you want to spend the rest of your life with, and Tom thought of the same too. You got up from your bed and sat at your vanity chair, there’s still plenty of hours before your wedding. You can’t help but stare at the engagement ring on your finger and smile.
The memory of Tom asking your parents for your hand in marriage played in your mind. You weren’t there, but your brothers were. The rest of the family as well, including your parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents.
The Stamp of Approval
You let Tom know that you’ll be flying back home to visit your family for a week, and he was okay with it, he apologized as well that he won’t be able to come visit them with you due to the press tour. What you didn’t know was Tom didn’t tell you that they will be having a press tour in your home country, so he was planning to surprise you, and he has a mission as well. That mission is that he was finally going to ask your parents for your hand in marriage.
He was a nervous wreck, he had been a nervous wreck when he had met your parents, but this time it had really intensified, it felt like his heart was gonna beat right out of his chest. Tom nervously fidgeted with his watch as he stood outside of the main door of your family’s mansion. He had been there for about a minute or two now, practicing his speech on how he was there to finally ask for your hand in marriage, which he had been planning for months. He took a deep breath and finally had the courage and rang the doorbell, the doorbell echoed inside your home, as he was waiting anxiously for the door to open.
As the door opened, Tom was greeted by your mother, who welcomed him with a warm smile and giving him a tight hug. She quickly ushered Tom inside, he stepped inside of the mansion and no matter how many time he had been in your family home, he will always be struck by the grandeur of your home whenever you both visit your family. Walls were adorned with beautiful artworks, furnitures was plush and comfortable. Your mother led him into the living room, where he was greeted by your brothers, grandparents and other family members—which were your aunts and uncles. Which he had not expected at all.
Tom, your brothers—which were very delighted when he came and squished him in a hug, grandparents, and your other family members had exchanged their pleasantries, then going back to what they were doing before he arrived. Except for your grandparents, they had joined as well in the living room.
“My love, Tom is here!” Your mother had called out for your father, “It is so great to see you again, Tom! What brings you here today? (Y/N) is out with her friends right now, but she’ll be back by dinner. She also told me you’re busy with the press tours, so you won’t be able to come with her.” She asked.
“Hello, auntie,” Tom greeted your mother, when you had introduced Tom to your parents, they had insisted him on calling your parents aunt and uncle, “I didn’t tell her that we’ll be having a press tour here, because I wanted to surprise her.”
Your mother let out a gasped and squealed. Your mother is the biggest supporter of your relationship, you can say that she’s the president of your ship. She always post a photo of you two on her instagram together with your family, and instagram stories as well. Your mother is also the number one source of photos of both you and Tom that the fans are always waiting for.
“I also wanted to talk to you all about something.” Your mother nodded.
“Come, sit.” She motioned Tom so sit.
They both sat down on the couch at the same time, Tom sitting infront, facing your mother. Your father coming down from upstairs. Once your father is finally seated on the couch with the rest, Tom took a deep breath and straightened his posture.
“Uncle and auntie,” He started, “I came here to surprise (Y/N) and to talk about something with you as well. I came here today to ask for your blessing to marry your daughter.”
Both of your parents have different reactions, and your grandparents just smiled widely at Tom. Your mother squealed again, while your father was serious and carefully listened, motioned Tom to continue.
“She means everything to me, and I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without her. I can’t see myself with anyone other than her. I would be honored if your would allow me to marry her.” Tom smiled softly.
Your grandmother turned to your grandfather, who then turned to your parents and speak something in your native language. Tom felt his heart beating faster as he waited for their response, until your grandparents turn to Tom and nodded happily. Your grandparents approved of him marrying you. Meanwhile, your father turned to Tom, directly making an eye contact with him.
“Tom, throughout the years of your relationship with our lovely (Y/N), we have watched you and (Y/N)’s relationship grow. We have seen how happy you make each other, we saw how much you make our daughter happy. She had never been happier in her relationship, and it’s rare for her to see be happy in a relationship, which you know very well how her past relationships ended. We love her so much, she’s our baby girl, our one and only princess. Seeing her very happy, especially with the person she loves the most, it’s enough for us.” Tom nodded at your father’s words with understanding.
“You are basically already a part of our family, you have been with us through every family celebrations and family vacations. So yes, we give our full blessing for you to marry our daughter.” Your father smiled widely at him, standing up giving Tom a tight hug. Then your mother gave him a hug as well, and lastly your grandparents.
Tom felt the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders as he smiled with gratitude, feeling sense of excitement and joy. Tom knows that both of your future together would be bright and full of love. Now, he couldn’t wait to propose to you. Your mother stood up and retrieve something from their bedroom and came back down to the living room.
“Tom, grandma just told me that I should give you this,” She handed Tom a black velvet box, and he opened it gently, “It’s a family heirloom. It was grandma’s ring when grandpa proposed to her, it’s what also my husband gave me when he proposed to me. So now we’re giving it to you, I know that (Y/N) will be very happy.”
“Thank you so much, I promise to take care of (Y/N).”
“I know you will, son. I know you will. I trust you with my daughter, I know that you’ll be a loving husband to her. Also call us mom and dad, you’re both getting married soon.” Your father smiled.
Your mother squealed again in happiness, calling out your brothers and your other relatives as well to tell them the great news. They had rushed to the living room and sat down on the vacant couch.
“(Y/N) and Tom are finally getting married!” Your mother shouted, causing your brothers and family members to jump and shout in happiness.
Your brothers rushed to Tom and squeezed him in a hug, your brothers are older than you and Tom, but they can be a bunch of bear hugger, a man child as well if they wanted to be. Your family hadn’t noticed you coming inside, you stared at the scene that unfolds right infront of you. You can see your parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles smiling and cheering, on the other side, you saw your brothers hugging Tom jumping up and down, chanting like they’ve just won a game or something.
Wait…Tom?!
“Uh, what is happening here? I just got home and I returned to a party? Without me?” You chuckled.
“(Y/N)!” Your brothers yelled all together.
“What? Why are you acting like I just came home from war?”
“Oh honey, you don’t know what’s coming.” Your mother said, in which you looked at her in confusion.
“Mom! Shh!” Your oldest brother, Collin shushed your mom, and your mother raised her hands in defeat.
“Tommy? What are you doing here? I thought you have a press tour?” You gently smiled at him.
Your brothers had let him go and he slowly walked toward you. Tom hugged you, arms wrapping tightly on your waist, as you give him a soft kiss on the lips. Your hands gently caressing his nape.
“Surprise,” Tom smiled softly at you, “I didn’t tell you that we’ll be having a press tour here, so I decided to surprise you, darling.” He kissed your lips.
“Well, you did surprise me.” You giggled in the kiss.
“I’m glad, darling, because we’re gonna be heading off to Paris for the next press tour and you’ll be coming with me.”
“I’d be honor, baby.” You smiled.
“Good, because I won’t be taking a no for an answer.” You both loved.
It felt like it was just the two of you in the room, forgetting about your family in the background. You can’t believe it, you’re so in love with this man, and he is so in love with you two. You wouldn’t trade it for the whole world, you can’t see yourself loving another man that is not Tom. He has taken your world by storm, and your heart.
The Proposal
Tom had proposed to you in Paris, right under the Eiffel Tower. The reason why he wanted to take you to him for the press tour in Paris it’s because he wanted to propose to you there, of course to spend time with you as well. He had ask for Zendaya and Jacob’s help with the proposal, you brothers will be there as well for the full package support. Tom couldn’t be more thankful.
The both of you are walking towards the Eiffel Tower, hand in hand. You can feel your heart racing with excitement, you had been to Paris before, you always accompany your mother during the Paris fashion week. You basically know Paris like the back of your hand, but being in Paris with Tom is a whole different experience. In the city of love with the one you love the most.
You can already see the iconic landmark looming ahead, the steel girders reaching up towards the sky. The sun is already setting, casting a beautiful warm golden glow, and Tom knows that this moment will be etched in both of your memories forever. As the both of you approach the tower, Tom took your hand and lead you to a quiet spot underneath the tower. He turns to face you, and as he look deeply into your eyes, you can feel the wave of love, gratitude, and pure adoration washing over you. You are the person Tom wants to spend the rest of his life with, and he knows that he have to make this proposal perfect.
Unbeknownst to you, your friends—Zendaya and Jacob, and your brothers are just around the area, waiting for Tom to pop the million dollar question to you. Your and Tom’s parents wanted to be there as well, but they can’t due to their respective busy schedules. But they have them on facetime, so they are updated on what’s going on. Tom took a deep breath and began to speak.
“My love,” He began, “Ever since I met you, I know that you are the one for me. You don’t know how much joy and happiness you had brought into my life, and I can’t imagine my future without you in it or loving someone that isn’t you.” You already have an idea of what’s going on, you are trying to hold your tears.
“I know that we have had our ups and downs, a continuous roller coaster rides of emotions, but I believe that together we can overcome any obstacles that the world throws at us. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, making you happy, supporting you with every decision you make, and cherishing every moment that we have together.”
Tom reached into his pocket and pull out a small black velvet box. Your eyes widened because you know that velvet box so well, it was a possession that your mother owns and ever since you were a child, you had already been begging your mother to give it to you. But she always tell you that you’ll have it when the time is right. You can’t believe it. He opened the box, revealing the big beautiful emerald ring. The emerald sparkling against the light of the beautiful setting sun, gasping in surprise.
“So, my darling, will you do the honor of making me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He smiled widely.
You noticed your brothers, Zendaya, and Jacob at the distance, right at the back of Tom holding a poster that says ‘Will You Marry Me?’and your oldest brother, Collin, holding the phone, speaking and your two other brother, Nick and Philip recording the moment. By now, a lot of people are surrounding you and taking videos, which will probably end up all over the headlines and internet articles right after.
Tom hold out the ring to you, and you can’t hold it any longer, you let your tears of happiness fall. You nodded your head rapidly and you throw your arms around Tom’s shoulders, kissing him deeply. You both smiled at the kiss. Tom slipped the ring onto your finger, loving the way how it looked on your finger, and suddenly there were fireworks display at the sky, courtesy of your brothers.
“Yes. Yes, I will marry you, Thomas Stanley Holland.” You giggled.
“She said yes, everyone!” Tom shouted, and everyone cheered.
The Eiffel Tower stands tall above the both of you, which had been a symbol of your love and lifelong commitment to each other. A special place that you will hold dearly in your heart, and a reminder of the love that you share with Tom.
#tom holland imagine#tom holland x female!reader#tom holland fic#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker fanfiction#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x reader#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland
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Beautiful Stranger
Daphne's first love and heartbreak
a/n: Hello loves! As you may (or may not) know, my characters will be on @elisysd new story Gold Rush! They won't me important, but on the prologue she talked about Daphne and I wanted to do her point of view of that part of the story! I hope everyone likes this!
Summer of 2042
Greece was a place she always loved.
Every summer since they met, her parents went to that country to spend their summer holidays, making it a family tradition. All the Norris rented a house in Parga and then a boat to go around the coast.
On a shelf of her house there's an album of photos from all those vacations. She always opened those albums when she was a kid, watching how her parents used to be, how her mom used to look like.
There are pictures of the first time they met, both of them on a camper traveling together. Then there is a picture of them hugging, her mom with a beautiful engagement ring on her finger. Then pictures of their wedding, and their honeymoon.
And then the first time she was in Greece: inside the womb of her mother.
One of the reasons she loved going to Greece was because she felt like she belonged to that place. She never met her mom's family, only an old woman she considers her grandma.
When the old woman started to get sick, Lando and Lily decided to be with her on her last moments.
Lando was now retired, and Lily was a well known artist in Europe. But, even if he had three championship titles and she had her paintings in important art galleries all over the globe, luck and fortune weren't always by their side.
In 2039, the Norris family moved into Parga, wanting to spend the time and make memories with the woman that welcomed them as her own kids the first time they stepped in the town.
But unfortunately, Nora Makris died in January of 2041. Leaving the family with a hole on their hearts
Now, in the summer of 2042, after the death of the beloved woman, they were on a blanket with snacks and drinks in front of them, sitting in front of the grave of the woman.
"So… we wanted to tell you something, Nora" Lando smiled weakly, hugging his son on his lap. "Will you say it, buddy?"
"I am on a karting team" the eight years old boy said, hugging his dad.
Daphne smiled weakly looking at her brother Percy. He's the exact copy of her father, with the same smile and same curly hair.
Otherwise, Daphne is the reflection of her mother, but with her father's eyes. She loves art, she loves Greece. Some of her parents' friends joked around saying that she saw her mother painting while she was in her womb, because since she was little she already showed her will to make art.
"I miss you, Nora" her mom sighed, making her dad hold her hand and kiss her head. "We all miss you, mom"
Daphne sighed and left a flower in front of the grave, tracking the name and numbers with her fingers.
R.I.P.
Nora Makris
Your family will always remember you
"Come on, kids" Lando sighed, helping his son get up and then he did it. "It's time to go"
Daphne looked at her family. Her brother held her hand tightly, hugging her while they walked away from the cemetery. She looked back, how her dad hugged her mom's shoulders kissing her temple.
Since she was little she always dreamed of having someone that could love her how her dad loves her mom.
"Are we going to Santorini?" Percy asked his dad, holding his hand. "Will Louis be there?"
"Yeah" he smiled, picking him up. "Come on, the rest of the group is already on the boat"
That summer, the Norris family boat will be full with the Leclercs, the Gaslys and the Vestappens. The four families will spend their summer together, going by boat to Santorini and staying in a house together.
"Julia!" Daphne smiled, hugging her childhood friend.
"Dane!" she smiled, hugging her back.
The Gaslys had twins, but she never got along with them a lot, they were always with Ethan, the Verstappens' son.
Julia Leclerc is her best friend. Even if they live in different countries and study in different places, all the time they went to the races to support their fathers, they spent time together. She's like the old sister she never had, and she loves her as a sister.
"How are you?" Julia asked with a weak smile.
"Yeah… well… I mean, I miss her" she smiled weakly. "It is hard. She was there since I was born, but now she's not…"
"I get it, Dane" she sighed. "She was part of your family. I miss her too, but I totally get it that you feel this low now"
"Yeah" she sighed.
In previous summers, Nora liked to have the kids with her when their parents went out to have fun as adults. Julia and Daphne always sat on the floor in front of her learning about Greece and the history of it. Thanks to that woman they know and love this place.
"Come on, I bought some things to spend time here" the older girl said, walking in front of her.
The yacht wasn't big enough for the four families to sleep there, so they had to share rooms to make sure there wasn't a problem.
"How is Louis going?" Daphne smiled weakly, watching the little Leclerc sitting next to her mother, wearing noise canceling headphones.
"Nice… he goes to therapy and they are trying to find a way of communicating with him" Julia sighed.
Daphne nodded and walked with her friend, looking around. She saw the Gasly twins and Ethan, looking carefully at Julia to see her reaction. Since she was little she remembers the arguments the two kids had, how Ethan tried to make her angry and how upset she reacted.
"I hate that he's here" she heard Julia groan, making her chuckle softly.
After they got changed into their bikinis, they went to the living room together, sitting on one of the couches.
"Sometimes it makes me sad to look at your brother trying to get closer to Louis" Julia sighed, watching how Daphne's brother was sitting meters away from Louis.
"He brought a book about insects, you know?" Daphne said, smiling softly. "And he even bought some small plushies of bugs for him"
"Really? That's so sweet" Julia smiled weakly. "Do you want me to ask him if he wants me to give them to him?"
"Would you do that for him?" she smiled softly.
"Sure" Julia nodded, nudging her side.
Julia is a wonderful person. Daphne knows she suffered from bullying, she saw how her friend changed. One week she was friendly with her and the next one she tried everything to keep a distance with her. But she tried to keep contact with her, until she discovered what happened.
She saw how Julia got up and sat next to Percy, hugging him and playing with him to make him laugh. If there's something true about the older Leclerc is that no matter what, she will always love and protect her family and loved ones. And because she has known the Norris since she was born, she feels they are part of her family too.
"A bird told me you have a gift for my brother, hm?" Julia chucked, tickling Percy.
"Oh, yeah" he laughed. "Is a plushy of his favorite bug"
"Yeah? Do you want me to give it to him?" she asked. "I'm sure he will like it, you know he likes the gifts you give him"
"But he doesn't know those are mine…" he sighed.
"Percy, he knows you want to be his friend" she smiled weakly. "But you know how he is… it's hard for him, yeah? But you are doing an amazing job"
Daphne smiled looking at them. She's grateful for her father, because thanks to him she has a big family. Charles and Lyanna are her godparents, and Louis her parents' godson. She's happy to be part of the Leclerc family.
Spending the day on the yacht was borning, because they couldn't go to the water since the boat was moving.
"Hey" Daphne heard him sit next to her.
"Oh, hey" she nodded at him, the Verstappen sitting next to her made her blush.
"So… are you having a good time?" Ethan asked, showing interest in her.
"Well, you know how it is. We can't go to the water" she shrugged. "And you just interrupted an interesting book"
"Oh, sorry" he laughed. "What were you reading?"
"Oh, one of my mom's favorite fictional books" she said, showing him the book. "Lore. Did you hear about The Hunger Games?"
"Eh… no" he laughed. "What's that? Guys being hungry?"
Daphne wanted to hit him with the book. How can someone be so stupid?
"No, idiot" she laughed. "Is like a dystopia where a country had a rebellion and the president of that country decided to make every year something like a show that made two people, called tributes, from all the twelve districts fight in a random place until one of them is alive"
"Oh… I never imagined you would like something as bloody as that" he laughed.
"Yeah well, it's a classic" she said, rolling her eyes. "The thing is that in this book the author mix that with the Greek mythology"
"Ah yeah, I get it" he nodded.
She doesn't use to talk with Ethan. Julia always tries to keep her away from him, but it's inevitable to not look at him. She always thought he was good looking, like one of those illustrations of her mythology books.
Something inside of her, like little tickles on her stomach, made her blush every time she found Ethan looking at her while the twins talked with him.
During the days on the beach in Santorini, she could feel his eyes on her. He talked with her when they were alone, and she casually started to feel things for him.
"I swear, I really think he likes me, Juls" Daphne sighed, laying on her friend's bed. "Sometimes I catch him looking at me"
"He's disgusting, Dane" Julia sighed. "Come on, I'm sure he's having dirty thoughts while he looks at you"
"I don't think he's like that" she frowned. "He's sweet with me… maybe I can make him be a good guy"
Oh, she really believed that. She heard all the things Julia said about him, how bad he is since he was born. But, as the teen she is, she really thought that she could change the bad guy and make him a good guy.
Some days he would flirt with her, talk till late and then walk with her to the door of her bedroom. Somehow, she started to fall for him.
Is he her first love? Would he be her first kiss? First boyfriend?
Then, that night came.
They went to have dinner, and since none of the kids, except Louis and Percy, wanted to stay in the restaurant, all of them decided to leave and go to the house.
In that moment, Ethan was with her, walking next to her on the beach. She thought it was romantic, being alone with him under the stars.
"It's a beautiful night, right?" She smiled, looking up at the stars.
"Mhm" he nodded, standing in front of her.
Then he did what she was dreaming about for the last few days. He pressed his lips on hers.
It was a messy kiss. Sure, he knows how to kiss, he did it tons of times with random girls at school. But she never kissed someone like that, so she just let him lead the kiss. It was something she never expected, to feel his tongue and his hands on her ass.
But she didn't care. Ethan Verstappen was kissing her.
She went back to the house with a silly smile, going immediately to Julia's room and telling her everything.
But of course, not everything is perfect.
Even if he spent the next day with her on the beach, kissing her sometimes when she noticed no one was watching, the next day things changed.
He was distant, not looking at her and ignoring her.
Somehow, that hurt her.
But what hurt the most was going to the beach at night, hoping to find him there and ask him what was wrong and why he was ignoring her.
Dane couldn't believe what her eyes were watching. She really didn't want to believe that was real.
Ethan kissing a random girl.
"Ethan?!" she gasped, making the boy pull away from the kiss and look at her. "What the hell is this?"
"Oh, you" he laughed, holding the waist of the girl.
"Why are you kissing her?! After everything you said to me?" she exclaimed.
"Ah… come on! It was just to have fun!" he laughed. "Nothing serious. You really should calm down. I would never be with someone like you"
She could hear her own heart breaking. It was so cruel, she was one of the many girls he played with. She was part of that long list he likes to brag about with the Gasly twins.
When she went to the house, she ran inside Julia's room, jumping in her bed with tears rolling down her cheeks.
"He… he just said that he would never be with someone like me" she mumbled, hugging her friend. "What does it mean? Why?"
"Don't listen to him, Dane…" Julia sighed, running her back and brushing her hair. "You are better, too good for him, okay? You deserve to be with someone that makes you happy"
"It hurts… I thought he liked me" she mumbled.
"Look, I'm going to tell you something and I really want you to listen carefully" Julia sighed. "Ethan Verstappen is not good news. Now you know what happens… don't look at him, okay? Ignore him"
Since that day, Ethan Verstappen was a man she never wanted to talk to ever again. She was dead for her.
taglist
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#f1#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 fanfics#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x y/n#f1 x oc#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#lando norris#lando norris x oc#lando norris blurb#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine
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Matacuervos, ch. 2 Introduction to conversational Antivan
Read on AO3
The word ‘honeymoon’ was exactly the same in Antivan: luna de miel. This coincidence delighted Hamal, as did the language, which, for all its associations with his beloved, was objectively one full of poetry and art.
Why was a sleeping shrimp a cautionary tale? What did it mean if something was from the year of soup, or fresh as a lettuce? And how could he not admire the way Zevran came alive when speaking Antivan, with all its twists and turns?
He had some time; though the proposal had been spontaneous, the wedding was anything but. There were rings to procure, a chapel to settle on, and assassins to evade. Still, Hamal was in a hurry most unlike him. The mystery of that tongue beckoned him. To learn it was to learn Zevran a little better, so he set about this task immediately.
Numbers and colors first. Days of the week and directions.
Hello, goodbye, please and thank you. Love songs and lullabies. All the vital parts of the language: kiss me, come here, yes.
Terms of endearment captured him the most. He’d already learned some: Amor, corazón, mi vida. Certainly he had many of his own: Ma vhenan, emma lath, mir atish’an. But he liked Zevran’s best, because he heard them so often in that sweet voice, whispered into his ear at market, or amid a flurry of sheets and pillows.
He devoted himself to all this and more.
“You are learning quickly!” Zevran observed, Antiva City far behind them. His smile shone, like the ironbark ring Hamal had gifted him.
“I have a good teacher,” Hamal said simply with a laugh.
Equally thrilling were Zevran’s attempts at speaking Elvhen.
In Zevran’s accent, ma vhenan became something like ven ( which in Antivan meant ‘come here,’ as in, stay with me always), or something like venas (which in Antivan meant ‘veins,’ as in, you are in my blood). As Zevran might say, the interplay of their mother tongues danced.
And when the time came, he said his wedding vows in Antivan.
The process of translating the words from Elvhen to Common, then to Antivan, took he and Zevran the better part of an afternoon—but time moved slower in love, it seemed. Thank the Creators for that. And Zevran had insisted on reciprocating the gift.
In the end they were left with three copies of their wedding vows: one in their respective mother tongues, one in that awkward yet vital bridge of Common, and one in the language of their chosen homes.
A charm, like turning a ring three times to make a wish. Such excess of love and language was like spring after a cold winter.
Such was marriage.
.
Following a quick ceremony in a rural chapel, they vanished into the northern region of the country. They moved quickly, careful not to be tracked—that bloody night in Antiva City remained fresh in both their minds—but their travel involved more pleasure than it did business. They were newlyweds, after all.
There were fruits here that could never grow in Ferelden, sold in little street carts, arranged with such artful skill that it almost seemed a shame to eat them. There were shops selling hand-made sandals and ornate patterned belts, and the smell of the leather damn near made Zevran cry with joy.
Hamal felt he could lose himself in this feeling forever, and with this thought came a startling realization: that Antiva with Zevran felt more like home than Clan Sabrae without Zevran ever could.
He promptly bought Zevran the sword and leather scabbard he’d been admiring.
Every night they went to a different inn, falling into one another; effortless and joyful, the way they fit together, almost like it’d been long-rehearsed. Hamal might whisper something he’d overheard a giggling couple say on the street. Whatever it meant, it caused Zevran to fall back laughing, unable to hide the blush rising to his cheeks.
And every day brought about a new vocabulary lesson so that Hamal could more easily navigate his new home. Over their shared morning coffee, Zevran coached him in important phrases. How to trade, how to ask directions.
“No entiendo. Necesito traducción, por favor.”
“No entendo, nescito…”
“Ne-ce-sito,” Zevran said, elaborating a little. “Like ‘necessity’.”
“Right,” Hamal said, trying again. “Necesito traducción, por favor?”
He’d stumbled through many an awkward translation error, but oh, he tried. It was as much a mark of commitment as the vows they had taken together; as precious the rings that now adorned both their fingers. It was like every word Hamal learned in Antivan translated simply to I do, I do, I do.
“Just like that,” Zevran said, satisfied. “That’s my boy.”
Hamal’s smile pulled at his peeling sunburn, his eyes glinting fiercely with pride.
.
“You know, I grew up near here,” Zevran told him one morning.
He had a map rolled out on the table in front of him. On it were the beginnings of something; a nebulous sketch of the task ahead, a road neither of them knew just yet.
“Did you?” Hamal asked. “Were you born near here?”
“Here, in Rialto,” Zevran said, gesturing. “I lived there before the Crows… acquired me.”
Hamal considered Zevran’s careful choice of words; he knew what he meant, so he didn’t ask for clarification. Instead, he gave him a warm smile, gentle and encouraging.
“I would love to see it, if you’re up to visiting.”
“Perhaps. If we have the time,” Zevran said. “But really, amor , the place means very little to me. I have no childhood home, unless you count the brothel my mother worked at. I had no family there. No friends. None that would remember me, anyway.”
“Still,” Hamal said, “It is your birthplace, vhenan . That alone makes it special. Consider it a sentimental request from your husband?”
The question lingered for a moment, then Zevran rolled up the map quietly. He planted a quick kiss on Hamal’s cheek.
“That, I can do,” he said. “Besides, what better place to continue our investigation into the Crows, than where I first encountered them myself? Perhaps the Crows are still active in Rialto, gathering their recruits the same way they did back then. We ought to investigate.”
“It seems a sound approach,” Hamal murmured. His eyes slid from the map over to Zevran. “So, ma vhenan. Back to business, is it?”
Zevran paused. “Yes. I suppose so.”
That single syllable carried more weight than either of them were prepared for; it heralded the arrival of something unforeseen. A change. An end. Or a beginning.
There was no shame in flinching from it.
Zevran smoothly tossed the map aside, and turned to his husband with a smile.
“For now, let us just enjoy the last day of our honeymoon. What do you say, amor? ”
Hamal laughed. The sound bloomed in Zevran’s chest. But it was settled.
The next day, they departed for Rialto.
#dragon age#zevran arainai#zevran x warden#mahariel#dao#oc: hamal mahariel#rinnywrites#ok ok here it is i'm done it's overworked as is ;-;#at some point i'll make a nice graphic or moodboard for this fic like i did with fsisap and others but for now this is what you get <3#if you recognize parts of this you win a prize <3 wee
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