#The ton really said they husband and wife dancing with each-other one more time then proper?
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The Bridgerton siblings all marrying for love and then proceeding to scandalize the ton with how obsessed they are with their spouses will always be so funny to me.
#The ton really said they husband and wife dancing with each-other one more time then proper?#laughing with each other in public??#Having at least 2-9 kids with each other???#How scandalous 😱#bridgerton#bridgerton siblings
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The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 86 - The Big Day, Part 3
It's time to cut the cake!
Ophelia is level ten cooking, so she's very confident with her knife abilities!
…A little TOO confident. Careful, Feefs!
Ophelia: SON OF A-
Xander: There are children here.
Ophelia: …booger.
Ophelia sucks on her injured finger sheepishly.
Ophelia: At least I'm pretty?
Xander: We're both killing it tonight, as per usual.
Let's try this again, just a bit more carefully. We don't want My Wedding Stories to turn into My Funeral Stories!
I really expected Xander to smash cake in Ophelia's face but he didn't! I'm so proud of my boy 😭
Marcie really said "y'all are taking too long, I'm digging in"
It's time for Moses' gift for the newlyweds: playing for them for their first dance.
Xander: Come here often?
Ophelia: The dance floor at our wedding? No, can't say I have.
Ophelia: You look so handsome tonight. I love your hair when it's slicked back.
Xander: You think this is slicked back? This is pushed back.
Ophelia: Okay, Tim Robinsim. I should know better than to give you a compliment.
Xander: All jokes aside, you look absolutely stunning. Is that dress alpha?
Ophelia: The Maxis Match dresses just didn't feel right. You gotta treat yourself sometimes.
The two quit their quipping and enjoy this moment, their first dance together as husband and wife. There will surely be many more to come.
Alright, they've had their romantic slow dance. Now it's time to party! Turn on that stereo!
It's hard to make time for everyone, but Ophelia is sure to greet and thank each of her guests for coming between hugs, compliments and synchronized dances. Being a bride is hard work, but she wants her loved ones to know how much their presence in her life means to her.
Ophelia's delighted everyone could be in attendance. Her friends, her family, old and new… Not that she'd ever call her gran old. She even convinced Hilary to bring Omari as a plus one. Not everyone has their former therapist at their wedding, but Ophelia's built different.
Speaking of Omari, she was right.
Looking at the group of people she loves more than anything, Ophelia knows she's ready to decide what her new trait will be.
Ophelia takes the Retraiting Serum that Omari had placed in her inventory and downs it in one gulp.
In a flash of light, her urge to steal from others dissipates and a huge weight is lifted off her shoulders. She's no longer a kleptomaniac.
After a lot of hard work and a lot of self-reflection, Ophelia is proud to say that she is now ambitious, a music lover, and loyal!
Marcie notices Ophelia staring into space like a weirdo and comes to check on her.
Marcie: You doing okay, girl?
Ophelia: Yeah, just having an epiphany. Typical bride stuff.
Marcie: …Right. Anyway, congratulations!
Marcie: The ceremony was beautiful. I'm so happy for you.
Ophelia: Thank you guys so much for coming. I hope the kids aren't bored.
Marcie: Joaquin's keeping Velma entertained but the boys are having fun on the dance floor! Violet seems happy playing in the sand off-screen too.
Marcie: And again, you look beautiful. You're absolutely glowing! Ophelia: …Glowing? Marcie: Is everything alright? Did I say something wrong? Ophelia: No, no. Long day, y'know? A lot has happened today but there's still one concern Ophelia's been ignoring...
This house has served Ophelia, and eventually Xander, well, but it's time to move on to something bigger.
Ophelia finishes prepping the garden for the move into the new greenhouse while Xander packs the last of their things.
Ophelia: It looks so empty in here.
Xander: I know.
Ophelia: This new place is going to be great. Marshmallow will have tons more room… and so will we, I guess.
Xander: We lucked out, it's a great house. I can see us growing old there, raising our family.
Ophelia: Yeah. Me too.
Xander: Let's finish getting everything loaded into the household inventory.
Ophelia: Okay, I just need to pee first.
Xander: Aww, your last pee in this house. Cherish it.
Ophelia: You're gross. But yeah, I will.
This might be Ophelia's last pee in this house, but she supposes there's still time left to earn a milestone here that Growing Together left out: First Pregnancy Test.
#The Sims#The Sims 4#The Sims 4 Legacy#The Lemon Legacy#TS4#The Sims 4 gameplay#sims 4#generation 1#ophelia#xander#marcie#marshmallow
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Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas- Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines
Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader Fanfic
-Pairings: mob! Tom Holland x reader
-Warnings: Language
-Words: 3.9K
Background Info- Tom Holland is boss of his mafia and Y/N Holland, his wife, is former mafia boss turned stay at home mom but still joined Tom on his business trips and meetings. They started dating at 19 and were married at the young age of 21, realizing they only needed each other. They have two kids together, both ages 16, Parker and Rosie Holland.
*Realistically to have two teenagers, Tom and Y/N are both in their mid/late thirties but they look like they are in their mid twenties/late twenties alright. What can I say, they have really good genes. I can guarantee that Tom will still definitely look as gorgeous as he does know in his 30’s.
Author note: I enjoy writing drama, so it’s hard to have constant fluff, mostly angst (I hope, at least what I consider angst). The more times where a character almost dies but doesn’t the better to me. This is my first fanfic, I wrote this story based on being married with kids because that is the part of my life I’m most looking forward to. Heads up but there is tons of dialogue, I find that the most fun to write.
Also I enjoy PDA and a personal goal of mine is to be married for 20 years and still want to jump my husband’s bones so there are a bunch of little hints like that through the fanfic. Sorry if your name is any of the characters, feel free to change them in your mind. I know it’s stupid of me to say that but whatever.
Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines
Words: 3.9K
You and Tom were a power couple. The Hollands, the ones with the most power and the most dangerous. A king and queen to their empire. Lately you had been tackling married life together and had been raising two kids. A boy named Parker and a girl named Rosie both the same age. But nothing could prepare you for what every parent dreads, their teenage years. All the hormones, mood swings and relationship drama that comes with it.
When both the twins turned 16 it was big turning point in your family. Rights of passage as Tom would say. You and Tom threw a massive gala to celebrate their 16 years of being alive. Tom as the leader of his own mob, money was no object and you coming from the family you did and being a former mafia boss, you both had truly opulent wealth. It was the night of their kids’ sixteenth birthday and everyone was invited from family, friends, business associates and even enemies. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer they would say. Tom and tried to keep as much as possible from your kids, trying to give them a normal childhood. Failing over and over again at that. Some nights Tom would come home bloody from beating up someone who crossed him. Or there would always been strange, bulky, built men surrounding your mansion for protection. It was hard to explain everything to the kids, but it was something they just had to do for family.
The party was about to begin, 7:00 on the dot, and the house was decorated to fit a very elegant yet youthful look. Caterers dressed in white carrying bountiful trays of appetizers. Tom and you adored the luxury of their life, even though they knew if they didn’t have all the materials they did they would be even happier. Their family is what mattered most to them. You were dressed to the nines, in a lace gold gown, with sparkly stilettos on. Her Y/H/C hair gracefully laying one her back, without a strand out of the place. And her Y/E/C eyes were beaming, if looks could kill they would. Tom couldn’t help but admire you.
“You know, it’s rude to gawk,” you said and Tom chuckled.
“I’m sorry but you’re just too beautiful not to,” he responded and placing his hands on your hips.
Rolling your eyes and smirking you said “tonight’s the night.”
“I know, should we do it now?” he questioned as his half smile turned into a frown.
“No, let him have this one more night. Without any obligation,” you had been dreading this night for years.
“Alright, darling,” he said as he kissed softly, he just couldn’t contain himself he
found his other half. The person that makes him want to be a better man. His soulmate.
Like any family there are skeletons in their closets but, the Hollands were a whole another story. Tonight was the night, one they had been dreading for 16 years, to be exact. You and Tom’s son, Parker would be tasked with the most difficult decision of his life. One that will rewrite his story. Tom wishes he would just turn it down and do what he didn’t have the balls to do when he was his age.
The day Tom’s dad brought him into the office, he knew his life would never be the same. Dom, his father and former boss of the Holland empire, made it very clear that if he turned him down, he could forget about being in this family. Tom just knows he won’t give the same ultimatum. Parker being the oldest and only son of Tom and Y/N Holland is the future of their family empire. Parker was quite popular, a playboy actually and very dashing. Wearing a black suit with a black tie and a white shirt he look just like his dad with his brown hair slicked back. Being one of the guests of honor tonight he had to look the part. Slowly made his way to the bar before his mother could find him. Desperately needing some liquid courage, he quickly poured himself a shot of vodka and downed it even faster. However nothing gets past, you, Y/N Holland.
“Parker Jackson Holland!” you fumed, catching her 16 year old son drinking.
“Hey, what’s with the middle naming me, it’s my birthday,” he responded a little startled.
“You should not be drinking, ever. You got two years, mister,” you explained.
“Alright, mum,” Parker sounded annoyed.
“Where’s your sister by the way, party is supposed to start in 10 mins,” you said as she noticed all the guest starting to arrive. A line of people already waiting at the door but everyone knew the Hollands preferred people to arrive fashionably late.
“I don’t know. Having a fit probably. Last I heard was screaming coming from her closet.”
“I’ll go check on her. Your father and I need you sober later. Understood?” You exclaimed.
“Yes, mum.” Parker was a good boy on paper but, enjoyed breaking the rules.
Right as you turned away, Parker then started to pour another shot.
“Don’t even think about it,” you said still walking forward. Parker chuckled and set the shot down.
You went to go check on her daughter. You knocked on the door when she heard something shatter. Rosie may seem timid but she definitely inherited Tom’s anger issues.
“Honey? Is everything alright?” You questioned, startled by the outburst.
“Yeah, mum. I’m sorry,” Rosie muttered seeming frustrated.
“It’s ok, oh honey!” You exclaimed, noticing the tears on her daughter face
“I know, this is stupid,” Rosie whispered trying to hide her tear stained face.
“No, no it isn’t. What’s wrong?” you said, genuinely concerned for her daughter’s well-being.
“I don’t know everything, this dress, my hair, my makeup,” she exclaimed frantically.
“Baby, you look beautiful.”
“Pretty enough that someone would want to dance with me?” Rosie whispered. You were caught off guard that your daughter could ever have thoughts like that.
“Yes of course, you are always gorgeous.” You hated seeing your baby girl beat herself up based on her looks.
“Thanks mom, I have a question?” You just nodded in response.
How did you get dad to fall in love with you?” Rosie asked inquisitively.
“Um, I guess was just myself. I didn’t put on a facade and I was very honest and transparent with him,” you answered a little taken back from the question.
“You were yourself? I find that hard to believe. From stories I’ve heard you seemed to be bold, brave and beguiling” said Rosie with a hint of sarcasm.
“Am I not those things now?” You asked, cheekily.
“No you are, just in a different way.”
“Honey, whoever you are trying impress, will love for who you are, ok?” You couldn’t stand seeing her daughter like this.
“Alright. Can you help me with my makeup?” Rosie asked because her previous makeup had been ruined by her miniature breakdown
“Yes, of course.”
Back at the party Tom was making his way around saying hello to almost everyone. He desperately needed to find his son. Tom’s and Parker’s relationship was interesting to say the least. As babies and toddlers Tom was there. He loved his kids so much but as they grew older they only noticed the times he wasn’t there. Only the missed recitals and football games, never all times that had dinner as a family and he tucked them in to bed at night. Parker is closer to his mother and his twin sister. Never really having that man to man talk with his dad yet. The time when fathers stop seeing their sons as boys and look at them as men. Tom approached Parker sitting there with his a drink in his hand, he hoped was a watered down Pepsi.
“Hey Parker, did your mom talk to you already?” Tom asked, not trying to raise too many questions.
“No, she might have mentioned something,” Parker responded.
“Ok, well after cake meet me in my office.” Parker nodded in response and noticed how he tensed a little at the conversation.
Their chat quickly ended when Harrison and his 16 year old son Henry came to wish happy birthday. Harrison is Tom’s right hand man, his consigliere and his best friend. He was more than that, Harrison was family. Harrison’s son, Henry was best friends with Parker and Rosie, ever since birth.
“Hey mate,” Tom said to his best friend Harrison.
“Hey, just came to wish this guy “happy birthday”” he said patting Parker’s shoulder.
“Happy birthday, dude” Henry said to Parker and he returned with subtle “thank you’s.” Parker slightly nodded to his dad to see if he could leave the conversation and Tom let him know it was ok.
“Come on, let’s go,” Parker exclaimed making his way to den where his other friends were.
Harrison was the first to speak up, “Have you told him yet?”
“No, Y/N and I are going to do it tonight” Tom uttered with a low toned voice.
“Geez, do you need me there?” Harrison asked, afraid Tom might say yes. Harrison was there when Tom went through the same process with his dad. Tom’s anger issues didn’t help the outcome.
“I think I’m alright, just family. Not that I don’t consider you family but I don’t even know if Rosie should be there.” Tom justified.
“It’s alright mate, I get it.”
They were both enjoying their night, making their rounds, Tom and Harrison went to get drinks, not beer this time but a scotch on the rocks as this was a classy night. Everything was dandy up until one of Tom’s men, William, came up to him informing Tom of a problem.
“Sir we have a problem,” William whispered to Tom, Tom nodded for them to follow them to his office.
“William, what now? Can’t you see I’m enjoying the party?” Tom exclaimed, closing the doors to his office.
“Sir, Daniel, was found dead at his post outside, shot by a tranquilizer gun, with a note taped to his chest, it’s for you.” William announced and handed the paper to the most important and dangerous man of the mob, his boss.
“What the fuck?” A long silence stayed in the air while Tom processed the news. Awkwardness had filled the entire room as they all awaited Tom’s response.
“For fucks sake, you need at least 3 guards posted outside. NOW!” He screamed as his anger continued to rise as read the note.
“Yes, Sir.” William said promptly.
“God forbid anything else happen tonight, but my wife and kids are the first ones to be escorted to safe house. Understood?” Tom explained as he only was only thinking about his family in that moment.
“Yes, Sir.” William said and quickly ran out before he could get the brunt of Tom’s upcoming outburst. Right on cue, Tom threw a glass ashtray at the wall, it shattering into shards.
“Calm down mate, what did the note even say.” Harrison asked with a worrisome look on his face. Tom showed Harrison the joy and his smile faded immediately. Tom for the first time, in a while, felt fear because he knew he had everything to lose.
Not wanting to deal with the life long headache that is his life. He looked for solace in, you, his wife as he spotted her over by the fireplace and made his way over to you.
“Have told you look stunning tonight?” He said instantly falling in love with you over again.
“Several times actually,” you said.
“Well I can’t help what you do to me, gorgeous.” He said placing a kiss to your temple.
“Hey, have you had the talk with him yet?” You said pointing a finger at your son getting very intimate with some girl.
The girl was Charlotte Owens. Parker and her had been together for almost a year, but you and Tom hadn’t met her formally yet. Your son was very tight-lipped the it came to his private life. She was tall, fair and had platinum blonde hair along with piercing blue eyes. Rosie didn’t seem to like her very much, constantly annoyed by her popularity status and reputation, used to be known for being with a new guy every couple weeks and don’t put it past Rosie to not give her the benefit of the doubt.
“No, remember we’re going to do it tonight. Is something wrong?” He said with concern, worried why you would forget something so important.
“No, not that talk, silly, “The talk”,” you responded. His lips formed an “o” shaped as he realized he would have to teach his son about how to be safe during sex.
“Oh, no. I’ve been avoiding it for as long as possible.”
“Why baby, you’re so good at it. You could give him a few a pointers.” You said, winking at him.
“Wow, love, you surprise me everyday. Speaking of beautiful girls, where’s Rosie. I’ve haven’t seen her all night,” Tom quickly trying to change the subject as they were at a party.
“I saw her a few minutes ago,” you said as a puzzled look grew on her face.
“Come on, let’s go find her and maybe you and I can sneak off for awhile.” He said cheekily.
“Tommy,” you whispered but eventually agreed. Slowly making your way out of the main ballroom to the secret garden next to his office.
Walking very slyly, you both made your way to secret spot near Tom’s office. Where ivy had grown throughout the brick and purple and yellow tulips lined the fence along with giant trees. There was a little wishing fountain that Tom had installed when you moved in, this was their secret spot. One where they could forget about all the violence and responsibility that tainted their lives.
Their intimate moment was ruined when Rosie walked by with some random guy named Connor, not the person she’d hope to bring there. All throughout the night Rosie seemed to be jealous of the attention her crush was getting at the party as he didn’t pay attention to her. Thus, she went find a distraction of her own.
“Oh hey, shh, look two people getting it on over there,” he whispered to her as she dragged him outside.
“Please don’t be my brother.” She murmured but felt like she wanted to throw up when she saw who it was.
“Mom, dad?” Rosie screamed.
“Oh shit, we’ve been busted,” Tom muttered against your neck.
“Hey honey,” You said while Rosie was completely mortified. Rosie’s potential hookup stood there mouth wide open.
“That’s your mum, god, she’s a babe.” Connor said.
“Connor, not helping.” Rosie exclaimed sternly as she pinched his side.
Tom spoke up, “Why don’t you guys go back and enjoy the rest of the party.”
Rosie just nodded and left as fast as humanly possible. She never wants to be that embarrassed again.
“Oh my god, we were gonna get it later.” You said.
“I know, we really screwed up this time. But have you had “the talk” with her yet,” Tom asked.
“Nope, we should both really get on that. What would I’ve happened if they hadn’t caught us?” You asked jokingly.
“I don’t want to think about that Y/N! She’s our daughter.” Tom exclaimed.
“Neither do I.”
“Enough of this, where were we?” Tom interjected immediately changing the subject.
“Well you lips were on my neck and you hand was on my waist, but I think the moment has passed and we should get back to the party,” you said rather seductively.
“Fine, I know you’re right. But fuck, I just want to make out with my wife,” Tom muttered frustratingly.
“Well you can later... in bed.” Winking as you chuckled.
“Man, that kid was right, you are a babe.”he said as he slapped your ass as you walked in front of him chuckling.
“Is it time for cake?” Harrison asks as he came up to Tom and you.
“I think it is.” Tom said and you nodded. Walking towards Rosie, who was desperately trying to erase her self from existence because of the embarrassment she’d experienced a minute ago.
“Hi, honey. Can you please go find your brother? We are going to cut the cake.” You said trying not to accidentally bring up the elephant in the room.
“Alright, fine,” Rosie muttered still a little peeved finding you and Tom like that. Rosie searched high and low for Parker.
Needing some assistance she asked Henry. “Hey, have you seen my brother?”
“Last I saw he was taking Charlotte to the green house” Henry responded.
“Alright, come on, let’s go find them” Rosie said rolling her eyes. Her hand slipped into Henry’s as she led the way. Making their way through the vast yet gorgeous yard. Rosie and Henry found Parker and Charlottes lips entangled together and bodies in a compromising position in the green house
“For fucks sake, how many people am I going to find sucking face at this party.” Rosie yelled, startling Charlotte and Parker.
“What the fuck do you want, Rosie? Can’t you see I’m busy.” Parker quipped annoyingly.
“Mom and dad want to cut the cake” Rosie responded.
“Ugh fine. Give us 10 mins” knowing he will be finished in that time.
“No, you can fuck your bimbo of a girlfriend later.” Rosie said, receiving a grimace from Charlotte.
“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that! Fuck off!” Parker yelled as Henry and Rosie left. Both of the kids had inherited Tom’s angry side.
“Well, you can explain to mom and dad you were late because you were balls deep in in your whore,” Rosie said walking away.
The moments leading up to the end of Parker’s innocence were fleeting. In more ways than one. He wasn’t a virgin even before that evening but, Parker could imagine the task he was supposed to accomplish. The 3 tier chocolate raspberry ganache cake had been cut and distributed to the guests. Happy birthday had been sung to Rosie and Parker. Parker tried to go off with Charlotte again, but Harrison stopped him and brought him to the Tom’s office.
“They’re in there,” Harrison whispered.
“Who?” Parker asked Harrison who was like his uncle.
“Just go,” Parker opened the door to see his mother and his dad sat behind the desk. The door shut behind him.
“Mom? Dad? What’s going on here?” Parker hesitated.
“Son, sit down,” Tom said, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy.
“We have to talk to you.” You interjected.
“Parker, as part of this family, there are certain responsibilities you have to take. It is a tradition in our family that at the age of 16, the sons are brought to light about the dealings of our family and what is expected of you,” Tom said as Parker grew wary. Not really understanding what his parents were trying to convey.
Throughout his entire life, he had his suspicions about his family. Wondering why men followed them everywhere, even on trips to the store for eggs. Why his parents went to work but have never seen their office, only heard it referred to as “the warehouse.” Why everything was always so damm secretive. Scared if he accidentally let some enormous family secret slip with his big mouth there would be repercussions. Never not scared of the harm that could come to his family.
“Your father, is the leader of a very powerful mob. I am part of it too, not just as wife but as his partner. There will be day when he will longer be in position of boss and you will take over,” you asserted playing off of Tom’s words.
“Our family is not only the owners of one of the world’s richest exporting company, we also do business with casinos and own multiple hotel chains. Sometimes our work brings us above the law, but the connections we have are what keep us alive.” Tom explained trying to preserve his son’s innocence.
“Why are you telling me all this?” Parker stuttered.
“Because it is time. Time for you to step up and take your place in this family. You’ve had 16 years of juvenile fun and now this is what has to be done.” Tom concluded.
“What if I don’t want this life. You don’t think I don’t know what happens behind closed doors here. All the times dad has come home with a black eye or blood on his knuckles. Why fuck isn’t Rosie here? She is the same age as me, WE ARE TWINS! Why am I the only one who has to do this. I don’t want to kill for sport like you and mom!” Parker screamed. He couldn’t handle this anymore. There was too much information he had to process.
“Do not raise your voice at your mother! Tom screamed.
“Dad, I had dreams and hopes. I wanted to go to college and travel. Find a nice girl and marry her. Experience the kind of love you and mom have. What you are asking me to do, flushes all that away. You are asking me to give up on my life.
So that’s it, I don’t have a choice,” Parker begged.
“Baby, you have a choice. Nothing is set in stone,” you said rubbing his arm.
“Y/N, you damm well know what will happen if he turns this down,” Tom yelled.
“Maybe this life works for you two, but I don’t want this kind of life. My answer is no. Find someone else.”
“Parker, you know I can’t do that. Take a couple days and think about it” Tom answered trying to stay calm.
“NO DAD! My answer is final, I’m not going to be your apprentice to carry on this heinous family legacy!” Parker exploded. It was too much.
“If you aren’t willing to do what is asked of you, then you can forget about being in this family!” Tom screamed. He did exactly what he said he wouldn’t, he gave his son an ultimatum. Parker couldn’t handle it anymore and left. Needing to forget about the fact he no longer had a say. He was stuck.
It was just Tom and you sitting in the study. They couldn’t understand where the conversation had gone. All their hopes for tonight went out the window along with potted plant Tom threw when Parker stormed out.
“Tom, you can’t force him. You can’t do what your father did to you to him.” You tried to say in a loving tone but it came out as stern.
“IM NOT, Y/N!!!” Tom screamed. He had fucked up. The words spoken tonight have rewritten his relationship with his son.
“Alright.” You whispered trying to calm your fuming husband down.
“I’m sorry I raised my voice, baby.” Tom’s tone immediately changed once he heard the softness of your voice. You just nodded in response
“Tommy?” You asked hoping Tom was now ok.
“Yes, love” Tom said.
“He’ll come around. I can promise you that.”
“I know, darling. That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what?” a look of confusion grew on your face.
He handed you a paper, the same one that was found on Daniel’s body, saying “Eclipsing of the Hollands. Let the show begin. Better watch your back.”
It was threat. A play to eventually be made on his life or the life of his family and you all had no idea who was behind it.
Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist
#tom holland#tom holland imagines#tom holland series#tom holland fanfic#tom holland mob au#tom holland au#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#Dad!Mob!Tom Holland#Mob!Tom#mobster#Mob!tom holland x reader#mob!tom x reader
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A Chime of Bells
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Part 5 of the If You’ll Have Me Series
Word Count : 3190
Warnings: 18+ Only - smut at the end obvs!
A/N: So this is the last official part of the series but I have so many spin off ideas and little moments I’d like to write about, as well as a prequal of how Y/N comes to be Duchess of Pembrokeshire ... also more Granville. Basically this series isn’t over and I will write more!!!
***
The warm summer breeze hit you as you stepped out of the church, the clear bright sky making the arches of blush roses stand out against the stark blue. You wobbled slightly as you stepped on the old cobbles of the church steps and you gripped tighter to the arm around yours, looking up to see Benedict smiling down at you. His gloved hand covered yours as you walked together to the awaiting carriage. The small ceremony had been held away from London, in the little church of the village nearest your new home. Benedict had never favoured London society and, London society, had never really favoured you. To that end Benedict had purchased a reasonably sized house on the Kent coast, only a short distance from Aubrey Hall but far enough that the ton would not easily come calling.
Benedict proffered a hand to help you into the carriage. “Mrs Bridgerton” he beckoned to you with a lopsided grin which you mirrored. Following after you, into the carriage, Benedict slid in beside you and rested his arm around your shoulder as the carriage began to move – the sound of church bells and his siblings cheering your departure ringing behind you. As the carriage trundled down the country lane, on its way to Aubrey Hall Benedict turned to you. “Are you happy to be Mrs Bridgerton?” he asked suddenly. You looked over, shocked.
Of Course, you were happy to be a Mrs Bridgerton, to be his wife. Surely, he knew how much you cared for him, how much you loved him. Your engagement hadn’t been particularly long but you both knew you knew each other long before you were seen together for the first time. “No. I’m ecstatic!” you smiled at his worried brow, cupping his cheek as you pulled him in to a kiss. He pulled back a little after returning the kiss. Only enough to see your glossy eyes staring back at him – his hand coming to cover yours that was placed on his cheek.
“But you were a Duchess.” He whispered just to you, leaning in closer to touch your foreheads together. “Now you’re just Mrs Bridgerton.” You laughed. His tone suggested that was a bad thing; and you knew, Benedict of all people cared as much for titles as he did for what ribbons his mother had chosen for Hyacinths bridesmaids dress.
“You should know by now that I do not care for titles. And being Mrs Bridgerton, is most definitely better than any title.” Your hand stroked his face, realisation blooming on it of how stupid he was being. Neither of you cared for a title and he knew that; but you were always expected to marry up in society and Benedict knew that by marrying him, you were marrying down. His arm wrapped behind you came to pull you in closer, so you were almost in his lap. His hand left yours and pulled your legs over his, so now you were. Your arms wrapped themselves over his broad shoulders and pulled him back to you, determined to show him just how happy you were.
Though the ceremony was small, which you had both wanted, Benedict had argued (unsuccessfully) for the size of the reception. It was a grand affair, held at Aubrey Hall, and true to his mother’s ‘suggestions’ the ballroom was crammed full of the crème de la crème of the ton. Although a lot of the ton were in attendance, thanks to Benedict’s last-minute interference with the guest list you made sure to only invite people you actually wanted there, including a lot of your artistic friend’s, making a surprisingly good impression on even some of the more reserved members of Society.
“Mrs Bridgerton.” A deep voice spoke from behind you. You turned to see Sir Henry Granville smiling at you over his glass. He bowed to you before joining you watch your guests.
“Sir Granville.” You smiled as you curtsied to him, “I do hope you are enjoying the evening?”
“Immensely darling.” He sighed “I do hope that now you are a married lady that will not mean that you, or your gorgeous new husband, will stay too long away from town.” Your eyes flit over to your gorgeous husband. Benedict stood by the wall of large arched windows, laughing with Colin at something Penelope Featherington had said. Oh the poor girl, her mother had dressed her again: a shimmering orange gown that matched her hair, with a delicate green lace to cut the two in half … she looked like a carrot. Your eyes drew back to Benedict; you could see from the other side of the room the laughter lines by his eyes, and the slight crookedness of his teeth that seemed to make him all the more cute. You only managed to sigh in response as you were lost in the scene before you, so content with your life for the first time in forever. Granville took your wispy sighs as confirmation he would not see either of you at his soirees for some months and stifled a giggle into his glass as he took a sip.
The party carried on until well into the evening, dancing and merriment stretched through several rooms of Aubrey Hall, and the gardens, where one lady of the ton was taught to juggle by several circus performers who had arrived earlier in the evening. By one in the morning you and Benedict were waving the last of your guests off from the front steps. Slumped against one another with silly grins on both of your faces, it was safe to say that the both of you were a little tired and a little tipsy. Violet Bridgerton had retired to bed just after midnight, shooing her youngest two back up the stairs with her from where they had been watching the party. Daphne and Simon had departed to their room shortly after as well, followed by Francesca who had to be carried to bed by Colin after falling asleep in a chair in the library. You and Benedict turned back to go inside. The footmen and maids had already started the clear up of the ballroom and gardens, picking up dropped napkins and sweeping away smashed glass. You bid Anthony and Kate goodnight, thanking them for hosting the evening; Colin followed after, cravat loose and waistcoat already unbuttoned. You didn’t even see Eloise go to bed, but you were told by Colin she had snuck away when one unfortunate young lord had made a most ungentlemanly remark and received a heeled slipper to the shin.
You and Benedict giggled at Colin’s retelling of the event, watching in contented silence as the last of the Bridgerton’s ascended the stairs. Well almost the last of the Bridgertons. You turned in Benedict’s arms to face him, smiling lazily at each other as his face came to rest in the curve of your neck. The light feeling that had been growing in your stomach bloomed in your chest as he began leaving soft, butterfly kisses along a column of soft skin there, just where you liked it. Your fingers clung onto his shoulders as your knees weakened. His hands roamed your back, the wide expanse of them and the heat they exuded seeped through your gown and sent goosebumps rippling over you.
By the time you were outside your room Benedict had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately as he searches blindly for the knob to open it. When he finally got you inside your honeymoon suite, he didn’t put you down, pressing you against the closed door as his hands slid up your thighs and under the layers and layers of chiffon and silk. Hastily ridding you of your silk stockings, the feel of his rough, artists, hands on your thighs made them quake around him, pulling a smirk from his mouth as he bit at your lower lip. Your hands found their way to his hair; the soft thick curls running through your fingertips felt divine and mad you cling to him further as he moved you over to the bed, pressing you back against the bed post so he could lower you to the floor.
His hands not leaving your body he pulled your long gown up your body as he stood to his full height. Pulling at the small bow at the back of your neck, he lifted the dress clean off of you – leaving you leaning against the dark oak bedpost, in your thin chemise. Benedict stared in awe at the practically see through garment: the pale fabric skimming down your body like warm milk. Your name echoed deeply from his chest as he eyed you hungrily; his eyes, usually so soft and tender, now looked dark and possessing. He stood for a moment, mind racing with the view before him. He had made love to you before, but now you were his wife. His. Wife. Forever. And the way you looked up at him through your lashes, not coy but knowing. You knew what you did to him, what you were doing to him. He could feel the length in his breeches growing with every movement of his eyes over your body. Breathing steadily through his nose to calm his heartbeat he tried to ignore the growing throbbing at the restraining fabric.
“You’re wearing too many clothes Mr Bridgerton” your silky words pulling him out of his daze as he looked to your face once more, stepping closer to encompass you.
“As my wife.” He paused “Mrs Bridgerton. I believe it is your responsibility to solve that.” He finished, his deep smooth voice mere inches from your ear. You slowly pushed his jacket from his shoulders, watching with a smouldering gaze as he assisted by pulling his cravat from his collar. Your eyes burnt into one another as neither broke eye contact, smiling, even as he toed off his boots. He made short work of his waistcoat, shucking it off as you began to unbutton his loose shirt, feeling his warm skin through the billowing linen. One he was free of it his hands wrapped back around your waist, not wasting a second in pulling you back into a steaming kiss, his tongue tracing your soft bottom lip, begging for entrance as his hands delicately try and pull the pins keeping your hair in place.
You spoke his name into the air like a prayer when you felt his heat seep into your bones, trailing your hands down his strong chest to pull his shirt free from his trousers, fingertips gently brushing over his stiff cock – trapped in confinement as you did so.
“Oh my love” he moaned as your hands brushed against his length. “Y/N, darling” he murmured, kisses departing from your lips to trail down your neck once more, his breeches falling no sooner than the buttons popped. As he bent down to kick them away, he grasped your legs again, circling them around his hips as he turned to kneel on the bed, walking you up onto it. His lips remained on yours, worshipping every piece of skin he could lay them on before lowering you back, softly so your head rested gently on the pillows beneath you.
As you landed on your back you smiled giddily up at him. The fleeting image of your last wedding night flashing before your eyes before you blinked and Benedict reappeared. Happiness flooded you as you thought of the comparison. Benedict’s soft kisses drew you out of your haze and you found yourself stroking his cheek as you had done in the carriage earlier. The soft murmur of his name drew his eyes back up to yours
“Yes, darling” the way his deep voice said those words, you don’t think you’d ever be used to that.
“I love you” you pushed at his chin to kiss him, savouring the way he felt above you, on top of you, how he tasted. You never want this moment to end and you couldn’t believe he was yours, Your Benedict. Smiling int your kiss, he pulled back when he felt wet on his cheek, realising you were crying into the kiss.
“Y/n, what is the matter?” he asked, worried.
“I’m just so happy my dear” you smiled as you cried some more; brushing a soft curl from his eyes that had flopped over into view. A comforting hand came to circle your waist once more, pulling you ever closer to his as his worship of your skin continued.
“Y/N. I love you so much.” His muffled words pressed into your neck in the form of kisses. “I will love you until the day I die and continue loving you long after.” He whispered “for as long as you’ll have me.” He smiled, tears in his eyes too.
“Make love to me?” you whisper into the space between you.
“Always” he smiled, kissing you once more on your lips, and continuing to press meaningful kisses down your clavicle and between your breasts, cupping them and inhaling your sweet scent as it surrounded him. As he descended lower on your body, his hands roamed and rumpled the soft silk of your delicate chemise, pushing it up your legs in a silent plea. You sat up to pull the chemise over your head, falling back again as Benedict’s soft lips graced your thighs, making you jump when he used his teeth to gently scrape at the soft flesh. You loved when he settled between your thighs, the way his tongue slide over your centre, the way it gently parted your lips and pressed you open against his face made you feel so alive. His eagerness to please you and draw any sound he could from between your lips made you shake with lust. As he sucked at you bud his eyes looked up at you through long dark lashes – the piercing blue of his eyes just visible above your thatch of hair. Your hand came down to card through his hair, pulling at it, not knowing whether you wanted him to stop and fuck you properly, or have him keep going forever.
“Every time I taste you, you get more and more exquisite” he growled, crawling back over you to steal a kiss from your bitten red lips, making you taste yourself from his glossy tongue.
“Benedict, get this off” you pleaded into his mouth, pulling as his open shirt. Complying with your wishes he tugged it over his head, revealing himself in all his glory. You’d never get tired of that sight.
“Now” he growled possessively “Where was I?”
“Taking your wife for the very first time?” you laugh softly at the insinuation. He lowered himself to cover you once more, his hand pulling your leg up over his thigh.
“Ah yes” he crooned smoothly “The very first time” his words punctuated by is head pushing into you. Since your re-entrance into society, many eyes had been beadily spying on you wherever you went, making rendezvous’ with Benedict all the more difficult - and when news of your announcement spread, any meeting outside of customary events had completely ceased. The stretch of his girth as he moved deeper into you sent a chill up your spine. You had missed the way he made love to you, the way he felt inside of you, and the way you could make him feel. Ever since that fortnight at Pembroke House, you had made it your life’s mission to give Benedict every ounce of pleasure you could.
As his thrust’s became rhythmic your moans began to echo into the darkened room. You began to roll your hips up to meet his, revelling the fullness and ecstatic ache of his cock inside you. His slow steady thrusts were scratching an itch but not fulfilling your need for him. You needed it faster; harder; you wanted to feel him in the morning and remember it whenever you found yourself in boring company. Benedict was getting lost in his rhythm, you could tell. His head was bent forward between you as he watched where he disappeared inside of you. His deep moans and hot heavy breaths hit your chest.
You raked your nails up his back, drawing his attention to your face as his head tipped back at the sensation. You took the opportunity to roll him over, pressing a hand to his chest to lay him down as you straddled his hips. Benedict’s hands came to rest on your hips as you pushed yourself back over down his thick silken cock, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh bound to leave their mark in either colour or feel. As you began to roll your hips you watched with delight as his head rolled further back into the pillows, the long column of his neck exposed fully. The sight of him, you were sure, could soothe the blind and, if only you were an artist, you would be sure to capture this very image.
“Oh Fuck” Benedict moaned after a particularly forceful roll of your hips. He began thrusting as ell as he could under you; opening his eyes to see you bracing one hand behind you on his shin, rolling your nipple in the other. The debauched scene before him made him double his efforts, grasping your hips and fucking up into you from below – allowing his thumb to stray down to your bud.
“Benedict” you prayed once more, arms giving out as you lay across him, only managing to hold yourself up with your elbows by his head. The change in angle allowed him to take more control from under you, biting into your shoulder as he drove you to orgasm, determined to feel your velvet hot core tighten around him. His calloused hands slid over you, brushing the soft peaks of your nipples as they cupped your breasts. He pulled one into his mouth as the other hand pressed you down onto his length. “Please”
“Yes “he breathed, feeling you pulse around him. “You’re so close my love. Come on, do it. I want to feel you over me.” His demand tipped you over the edge. The deep rumble of his words vibrating through you as an electric storm coursed through your veins. Benedict followed after you with a groan muffled into you neck. His cock pulsing seed into you until he was completely spent.
Rolling over next to him you collapsed back onto the cool sheets – turning your head to see him already looking at you, both sharing lazy grins as you caught your breath together. Benedict moved his hand just an inch to encapsulate yours, slowly dragging it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of your fingers.
“That was amazing.” You sighed, just about managing to speak and certainly not having the energy to move. Benedict’s hand flopped back down onto the bed, still holding yours.
“Yes it was” he whispered, pulling a thin sheet over the both of you as you settled into the stillness of the night.
#my writing#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x reader#Benedict bridgerton imagine#Benedict bridgerton x reader
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Can you do a supernatural cast series where you’re the wife and you do different interviews, like the videos on YouTube like Ad or thirst tweets or just answering fan questions whatever plz. If you have questions just message me and I’ll try to explain it further
Lol sorry it’s been like four months so don’t hate me but it’s been hard work juggling trying to write, school and work so sorry. I think it sucks but hopefully you’ll like it and I’ll be tagging the other parts in this one
Burning Fan Questions
Other parts
Alexander Calvert
Misha Collins
Jensen Ackles
"Hi I'm Yn Padalecki and I will be answer the fans burning questions about my life" I say smiling at the camera as I grab the bucket that's full of questions.
"I'm super nervous for this because before I got here Jared double dog dared me to answer literally every single question so I can't use my skip button" I say and the crew behind the camera laughs.
"Please for the love of god let their be questions to embarrass Jared more than me so he can eat it" I say giggling.
"First question" I say grabbing a folded up piece of paper from out the bucket.
"Who is the rudest celebrity that you've ever had the chance of meeting?" I read and I laugh.
"Oh that's a lot of them, there's an unsurprising amount of rude celebrities who think that they own Hollywood" I say laughing.
"But enough stalling because I have to answer this question anyway, the rudest celebrity that I've ever met was Christian Bale, no offense but he was a total dick to literally everyone around him, on set, off of set just everywhere" I say digging around the bucket for another question.
"What scandals has your team had to cover up?" I read and I start laughing.
"Noooooo" I say laughing even harder because I know I have to tell them.
"Okay okay. When I was 23 I had first met Jared and we got caught you know doing the deed and then the pictures were about to go out and they had to buy all of them back for double of what they were going to get" I say laughing shaking the bucket up and grabbing another one out.
"Have you ever used your celebrity status to get something for free?" I read.
"One time when I was out my daughter, Harlow we were getting frozen yogurt and I left my credit card at the restaurant we were at before without realizing it and at the register she goes oh my god are you Jared from supernatural's wife and when I'm with my daughters I usually pretend like I'm not but I totally knew she was going to give us the yogurt for free so I was like yeah, and then I asked her how she was and she was like oh this is totally on the house" I say laughing.
"I eventually went back and tipped a massive tip because I didn't pay last time" I say.
I grab another one out and I put the bucket down opening it "how many kids do you actually want?" I read.
"Well I already have two now but I'm aiming for at least five" I say laughing.
"I have a big family I'm one of 9 so I've always wanted a big family but not as big as mine so four or five would be a perfect size family for me, I honestly have a enough love for a million but four or five is definitely good for me" I say grabbing another question.
"If we came to your house what would we find in your cabinets food wise?" I read laughing.
"What an interesting question" I say.
"Everyone in the Padalecki household has their own cabinets because they are huge smackers. Harlow's is filled with the stuff she likes such as teddy Grahams, fruit roll ups, dried Cranberries, jolly ranchers stuff like that. Mine is filled with little cakes, gushers, banana chips which I swear by, peanuts, popcorn and Jared's, he has tons of candy, he is absolutely in love with white chocolate macadamia cookies and he always has those in his stash and Kiernan she's still on baby food so she's fully stocked on that" I say grabbing another question out.
"If you had to marry anyone that has starred along side your husband in his show supernatural who would it be?" I read.
"Oh hmm" I say laughing.
"Okay, Jensen is like Jared's best friend but I'm way closer to Misha so I'd definitely have to say Misha but no offense to his wife because I'd totally marry her as well or maybe even Rob, I love that man to pieces, he's a really good friend but then there's Rich, no offense to his wife Jaci but Rich and I have the best dance off's so that would be something to look forward to" I say laughing as I grab another question.
"If you woke up in Jared's body and had to stay in it for a day what would you do?" I say laughing.
"Easy, I'd leave myself little notes with plans for tomorrow so when I switch back he'll have to go through with them and we could have a perfectly planned out day because I planned it" I say laughing.
"If you go out to dinner with your non-famous friends, do you all still split the bill or do you pay?" I read.
"It depends really, my childhood friends don't like for me to pay for their stuff so we'll all split the bill but if I'm the one inviting everyone out then I'll pay before hand because then it'll be a lot of work trying to break it up" I say grabbing another question.
"What's one thing that Jared does that absolutely pisses you off?" I read cracking up.
"Breathes" I say smiling at the camera.
"I'm just kidding" I say laughing.
"When I'm super busy and like concentrating on my work he'll come over and innocently wrap his arms around me but then when I'm not paying him enough attention he'll start softly biting me and while I'm trying to work that can be so annoying" I say.
"What was the worst rumor that has been spread about you?" I read.
"I've had some pretty bad ones that I like to pretend didn't happen because they were literally so outrageous but I guess the worst one was that I was cheating on Jared. A few years back Harlow and I flew to my hometown for a few weeks and we spent Halloween out there and my twin sister and I dressed up as Sally from nightmare before Christmas because we've always done matching costumes whenever we're with each other and I posted a selfie on Instagram so everyone knew what I looked like but no one knew my twin sister was dressed identical to me and she took Harlow around with her now husband while I helped my parents be set up for the party and the paparazzi caught them together while they shared a kiss and while Eric played with Harlow and she was giggling and they put the photos on the front of the magazine and I was getting so much hate before I even knew what was going on and I was getting calls from our friends and they were asking me like how I could do that and then I had to go and post my pictures with my sister and write this long ass message about it and it was super bad" I say moving on.
"Who do you look up to the most, and what qualities do you love about that person?" I read.
"My grandma, she pretty much raised me. My parents weren't around often so I had to live with her for like 5 years, me and all of my siblings" I say digging in the bucket.
"But the qualities that I love about her is one, the fact that she is the strongest person I've had the honor of meeting" I say holding up one finger.
"Two, her boldness is like unbelievable. I took her to the oscars and she started flirting with The Rock and that's when I realized my grandma was my hero" I say laughing and I pull another question out.
"What's something you did as a child that no one knows about outside of your family?" I read.
"For two years I only spoke in a British accent, I had everyone confused at school because I never broke" I say laughing.
"How often do you and Jared have sex?" I read burying my face.
"No, I'm not going to be embarrassed. Sex is a normal thing, it brings about joy, relaxation, sometimes accidental pregnancies" I say laughing.
"But back to the question, I don't know. He's gone for like nine months out of the year but if he has a three day weekend or whatever then we'll spend a night together but when he's home in the three months he's off of filming it's literally whenever the kids are gone if even just for 20 minutes. We try to keep it as normal as possible" I say laughing.
"What's the last text conversation you had?" I read pulling out my phone and I laugh.
"I texted Robert about his new Batman movie because it was announced the other day and I just seen it this morning so I had to quickly congratulate him and he tells me that while I'm super late he still appreciates it and won't hold anything against me when it's time to hand out movie tickets and I said I'd never forgot about you shiny and he sent the middle finger emoji" I say laughing.
"What are your pet names that you and Jared have for each other?" I read.
"Ha, finally a question that he'd normally not talk about but I was dared so I call him Bubba or bubs" I say laughing.
"Literally it's how he's saved in my phone and he thinks it's so embarrassing" I say pulling my phone out and showing his contact name and photo.
"He's Bubba and he calls me a lot of different things but the one he always goes back to is beautiful or baby" I say smiling at the camera.
“Do your siblings and Jared get along?” I read and I laugh sighing.
“Like I mentioned earlier I’m one of nine so that’s eight siblings and then all of my siblings are older than me. I’m the baby and they are all married so my older brother and his husband love Jared and Jared loves them, we’re actually both of their kids godparents but then with my third oldest sister she doesn’t like me so she doesn’t like Jared by default you know” I say grabbing another question.
“Okay this is a question I have to know how often you do and Jared shower together?” I read laughing.
“Do you have to know that?” I ask laughing harder.
“Sorry to let you down but we don’t really, we’ll not anymore with kids it’s best one of us is out the shower while the other one quickly showers because we can’t leave them along for too long” I say knowing that my answer is not what they were expecting.
“But before kids it’s was an every morning thing we did together before heading out for our different business or whatever we had to do that day” I say.
“Did you have an oh shit moment at your wedding, and if so what was it?” I read and I nod.
“Yeah actually I did. But it’s been so long since we got married that I actually forgot until I read this question. My brother bless his poor heart showed up drunk like he was pregaming our wedding and the security didn’t know he was my brother so they were like kicking him out and my sister runs in like “oh my god Yn, the security just kicked Kalin out” so I’m like half dressed and I go down to try to figure out what the hell is happening and then I meet up with him and he throws up all over me like I’m talking full body covered and the make up artist just left and I had to shower and call her back so she could come fix my face and it was very traumatizing because it was so gross” I say laughing.
“But the whole wedding was beautiful and he didn’t drink at all” I say.
“If you had to pick a song from the late 10’s-2020 to be you and Jared’s couple song what would you pick?” I read and I awe.
“That’s a cute question. I guess I’d have to say Flicker by Niall Horan, we danced together to that song when Alex Calvert and his wife got married and it literally felt so magical and now whenever I hear it, it takes me back to a happy place and I just think about slow dancing with my best friend and husband” I say smiling.
“Do you and all the wives of the supernatural cast get along?” I read and I quickly nod.
“Those girls are some of my best friends, they know what it’s like to have a family and their husband work on supernatural so automatically we have something to bond over also with Alex’s wife she has a massive family so we often talk about the drama and problems that come along with it” I say laughing.
"Last one. What celebrity have you had beef with?" I read laughing.
"Daniel Radcliffe" I say quickly.
"But it was when we were younger filming the Harry Potter movies. We didn't like each other for like the first 4 movies" I say laughing.
"Our characters were close in the movie but on set we hated each other, I don't know why and I don't think he does either, I guess our energies just clashed but when we got to order of the Phoenix and we talked it out before we started filming and have been best friends in person ever since" I say laughing and tipping the bucket over.
"That was my last question. I'm Yn Padalecki and this has been answering fan questions. Thank you for watching and I hope you got a laugh out of at least some of these questions or you learned something you never thought you would learn about me" I say smiling at the camera
#jared padalecki#jared padalecki x reader#jared padalecki x you#spn cast#supernatural cast x reader#sam winchester#jensen ackles#misha collins#alex calvert#Spn cast x reader#cast x reader#reader insert#supernatural#celeb!reader#famous!reader#actress!reader#celebrity!reader
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Title: Pleasing The Duke {1}
Duke of Hastings/Rege Jean Page x OFC Jemilla “Jemi” Remmington
Warning: Plot, Regency Period Piece, Slow Burn, LOTS OF WORDS
Words: 5.7k
Summary: After your four weeks on the marriage mart and the tumultuous way yours and the Duke’s budding friendship that turned into a faux courtship, then a real crisis that could have tarnished your name forever, you are now married to the Duke. Only this is no traditional marriage. The Duke has professed to never fall in love, never get married, and never sire an heir, a matter you know nothing of. Furious that his wanton, lustful desires have gotten him to forego one of those vows, he is determined not to break the other two. That would usually be an easy feat. Only with you, it might be more challenging to keep those vows, seeing as no matter what, you are the only thing on his mind.
Note: Inspired by Rege Jean Page’s portrayal of Simon Bassett. This fic will not have any other characters from the series, except Lady Danbury, mainly the portrayal version of her by the incredible Adjoa Andoh and maybe Queen Charlotte portrayed by Golda Rosheuvel. This series will focus on The Duke and an OFC female character and will be a sultry and erotic historical romance. Anyone under 18 is advised not to read.
***Let me know if you guys want me to add like glossary terms at the end of the chapters for period specific words/items.
***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Julia Quinn’s characters, nor the Characters established by Bridgerton. I own the rights to the original characters created in this story.
If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘
As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️
***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
***Slightly Interactive***
Chapter One: The Duke & Duchess Of Hastings
“I pronounce you husband and wife.”
You kept your back straight and your limbs stiff though you felt at any moment either or both would give way, sending you tumbling to the ground in a heap of white lace, silk, and tulle. Perhaps you’d even be sucked into the ground for good measure, you thought. No one spoke once those words had been uttered. Almost a full minute passed before the clergyman spoke again.
“Eh-em, I declare you husband and wife.”
You gulped and slowly found your head swiveling toward the man beside you. a man who was practically a stranger, a man you’d now found yourself joined to until you were parted by death. Your husband—The Duke of Hastings. When your eyes met his, you noted a look of strangled fear and disgust. His jaw was clenched, and he looked as if he were seconds away from revealing the contents of his stomach right on the front of your gown.
Long moments seemed to pass with the two of you just gazing into each other’s eyes. This was not the gazing of enamored lovers or even lustful suitors. It was the gaze of a man who’d been forced into a marriage he did not want and a woman riddled with guilt for her part in it.
“Your grace.”
Simon’s head snapped back in front of him to find the clerk holding out the book he was to sign his name into. You watched as he took the quill from the clerk and slowly signed his name. He paused after every word as if he were seriously contemplating scratching his name from the book entirely. An act that was to be seconds took a full minute, and the entire time you wondered if he would turn to you and call the whole thing off, leaving you a ruined and jilted woman.
Simon held the quill to you for your turn. As you took the object, your gloved fingers grazed his. Even though your skin did not touch his, you shivered all the same—that was before Simon snatched his hand away to drop them to his sides. You glanced down at his hand that you’d ever so softly grazed a week or two ago and watched his fist clench tightly.
“Your grace,” the clerk repeated, this time to you.
Bringing your attention back to the book in front of you, you proceeded to sign your name beside Simon’s. Instead of writing the name you’d been accustomed to your entire life—Lady Jamilla Remmington, you signed your new one for the first time—Duchess Jamilla Bassett, The Duchess of Hastings. It looked strange to your eyes, but it did not look terrible.
“Congratulations, your graces.”
The voices began to overlap as each of those in attendance for the small ceremony extended their felicitations to both of you. Neither of you could find your voices or the words to reply to even thank them. There was nothing to be thankful for, you thought. You’d traded one unhappy future for an equally unhappy one, quite possibly more unhappy as you’d just entered the very thing you’d refused to—a loveless marriage.
Thankfully leaving the church, there weren’t people outside ready to shower the newlywed couple with rose petals and cheers. Unfortunately, you had to ride in the same carriage as your new husband. Simon sat across and diagonal from you, peering out the window at the scenery. Holding your bouquet of fresh flowers while fiddling with the blush-colored silk ribbon it was tied with, you watched Simon take a flask out of his coat pocket and knock back something strong from the whiff of it that caught your nostrils. He grimaced, then groaned before he looked at you.
The way he looked at you nearly made you stop breathing, not from him taking your breath away, but from the hostility you saw in his eyes. Simon grumbled before looking from you back out the window. Your stomach fell, realizing just how severe and hopeless your fate was. For the remainder of the carriage ride, you worked to keep your eyes off of Simon. It was a task that seemed more manageable for him than you.
Every so often, your eyes found their way back to him to take in other parts of him. Either it was the way his cravat looked around his neck, and the sly way peeks of his throat could be seen through the tiny slots, or it was the way he tightly gripped the flask he held. A flask he didn’t bother to hide. He was already so unhappy with you that he didn’t care to continue the ruse of propriety for you. It was disheartening.
Simon kept his jaw firmly clenched as he watched the scenery pass, but he didn’t look as if he were looking at the rolling hills or passing farms. He appeared to be looking directly through anything that passed. This was just day one of your “new” life, and if the two of you couldn’t muster any conversation, you didn’t know what hope there was for the future.
The carriage ride from the church to your reception took all of fifteen minutes, give or take a few. You’d tried to plead with your mother to forgo the reception, stating that it was outdated and unnecessary, but your mother wouldn’t hear a word of it.
“The wedding reception is one of the joys of the beginning of a married woman’s life. It is the time she greets the ton as a Mrs. She is no longer a miss. You will get to revel in your new role in front of all the other unmarried women. The reception lets everyone wish you well while being the source of envy in their eyes.”
You sighed, hearing her words in your memory from the night before. You did not fault her. she did not know the true way your nuptials had come about. She thought you and Simon had genuinely fallen head over heels while pretending to have fallen head over heels. She did not know about what had transpired to bring the two of you to this outcome. You didn’t dare tell her.
While a loving and kind one, your mother preferred her children, mainly her daughters, to be the supreme example of propriety. She had groomed you to be nothing but a proper lady. That meant you always had a chaperone when you were going most places. You were never alone with anyone that wasn’t a woman. Your hemline was the exact number of inches deemed appropriate, as was your neckline. It also meant that your education was top of the line—well, most of your education.
You learned to read, write, do arithmetic, play the piano, do needlework, draw, paint, sing, dance, how to catch the eye of a suitor, the propriety of courting, and how to run a household for marriage. Your accomplishments could have been seen as superior, but your mother said you had to be better than average. You had to be perfect. She pushed you further, saying because your skin color was different, expectations for you to be perfect were high. So, you expanded your education to learn two languages, French and Latin. Excelled in piano and learned to play the harp. You were quite accomplished, usually more than those around you.
The part of your education that was lacking was knowledge that went past things others could see. Your mother made sure to keep any discussions of inappropriate topics away from you and your sisters, only giving you the smallest of details. She sure stressed what was inappropriate but skimmed past any other things. It was while learning about science and animals that you grasped procreation at the most basic level.
You had plenty of unmarried friends. There was Tessa Carmichael, your best friend who lived across the road, Abigail Prowler down the road on the left, Edith Bunfeld down the road on the right, and Letecia Grother, whose aunt was on the neighboring street. All of you often spent your afternoons walking around the park and gossiping about many things, including the joys and privileges of married life. None of you really knew what to expect. Of course, many unmarried ladies tried to grill the ones who were married, but they all remained tightlipped. All they did was giggle into their fans, saying, “you will find out on your own.”
Here it was, the evening of your wedding day, and you still had no idea. Your mother had assured you earlier in the day before you left home for the final time as a Miss that “The Duke will take the lead, all you must do is follow it.”
“Your grace?”
You came out of your memories to see the footman holding out his hand to assist you out of the carriage. Once you stepped out, you rearranged your dress until Simon stepped out beside you. You watched him tuck his flask in his jacket before he held his arm out for yours without even sparing you a glance. Sighing, you looped yours with his and let him lead you into the building.
Once you walked in, the first people you saw were your mother and Landy Danbury. They both had bright smiles on their faces.
“Your graces,” Lady Danbury said, dipping her head.
“Oh, you know you never have to bow your head to me—never to me,” Simon said with a fond smile on his face as he looked at Lady Danbury.
You knew his affection for the woman went deep. You weren’t entirely sure about most of it, but you knew that she’d taken care of him helped him become who he was. You’d only known him about five weeks, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to peel back the many layers of The Duke Of Hastings. You suspected you’d need a lifetime for that. A lifetime which you now had.
“Are you all right, dear?”
You plastered a smile on your face and nodded.
“Of course she is mother, she is now a duchess,” your sister Jerrikka piped up as she came over to pull you into an embrace.
“You know very well I am not the type to hold so much weight on a title,” you replied.
“Is that so? Not too long ago, I remember you bragging you were to be a Princess,” Simon dryly shot out.
You glanced at him trying to keep the glare away. You remembered the conversation you’d had where you’d uttered those words and remembered why you’d said them. You’d wanted to pointedly show him that you were desirable though he behaved as if you weren’t. Perhaps part of you wanted to enrage him or garner any reaction from him at all. He’d been so damned stoic. It was next to impossible to know what toiled in his head.
To not draw suspicion of trouble so soon after wedlock, Simon smiled at you. It almost looked like a real smile, a warm one, but his eyes remained cold—detached. He then led you into the ballroom, and as he did, all eyes floated to you. Everyone in the room held broad smiles on their faces as they dipped down into a respectful half curtsey or head bow. You and Simon both returned the gesture before the members of the ton flooded around you, each offering their happiest felicitations for your marital bliss.
You kept your back straight, face neutral, smile stretched, and hoped it shone all the way to your eyes. Your eyes always gave away whatever you were thinking or feeling. It was what you considered your fatal flaw. Your mother could hide everything behind her relaxed expression and only allow others to see what she wanted. Even, your sisters, Jerrikka and Jacinda, could remain relatively stoic, you were the one who was cursed. Your father always called you his little lightning bolt because of how quickly your emotions flashed.
By the time the congratulations finally subsided, it gave you time to take your first ever taste of Ratafia. Your mother had never allowed it. She said it was for married women. You and Jacinda had only been allowed one glass of cordial at any event. Once you’d had your one glass, it was lemonade after that.
You were standing close to the fireplace in the corner of the room. It gave you a good view of all that was happening. Simon was beside you, slightly turned away with one elbow resting on the stone of the fireplace. His stance allowed you to take in his side profile. Even standing leisurely with his other hand on his hop and one leg crossed over the other, he still looked regal. Before you thought it was conceit you sensed in him, but you’d come to see it as pride.
It wasn’t a detrimental pride or one that said he thought himself high over others. It was a different kind of pride entirely. It was one that made him more attractive in your eyes. His slim but masculine frame you’d gazed over tens of times over the last month always set your curiosities running wild. Right now, you found yourself wondering if all of him had the muscles he’d displayed two weeks ago when he rolled up his sleeves.
You hadn’t even seen your brothers in that state before. he was the first. As your eyes traveled the length of his body, you raised your glass to your lips and took a sip of the coveted Ratafia that many ladies seemed to love. Your eyes stopped at his backside, and that was where they remained. The liquid passed your lips and washed over your tongue.
The most unexpected flavor filled your mouth. It was one that was stronger than anything you’d ever tasted. As soon as you swallowed it, you began coughing. Simon’s head spun to you with a worried expression.
“Are you all right?”
Your response was another fit of coughs, which made Simon take a step toward you.
“Jemilla?”
You held up your hand as you cleared your throat once more.
“Good heavens, this is absolutely terrible.”
Simon’s eyes flittered between the glass in your hands, your face, and back to the glass. Slowly a smile spread across his lips before he pressed them together.
“Is this your first time having Ratafia?”
You nodded.
“How? Every lady in London has a Ratafia habit they think no one knows of,” he said with a smirk.
“Is that so?”
“Why yes. Look.”
He stepped to the side then nodded his head to the ladies of the ton. You looked at a few of them, and each of them brought glasses of the horrid tasting drink to their lips, including your mother, older sister, and Lady Danbury. He was right. It would seem the ladies did have a liking for the thing.
“How is it that your mother and sister drink it regularly, but you have not?”
He was facing you again with plenty of curiosity in his eyes. Needing something to do, you nearly raised the glass back to your lips—nearly.
“My mother doesn’t let any of us have this. She says it is for mature married ladies. So I did not qualify.”
Simon nodded and raised his glass of Brandy to his lips.
“I see. So, now that you are in the company of those married but not quite mature ladies, you decided to partake.”
Curiosity nipped at you now. Tilting your head to the side, you took him in.
“Married but not quite mature ladies? Pray tell what you mean by that, your grace?”
Simon didn’t attempt to speak. He just took another mouthful of Brandy and studied you with the utmost scrutiny. A hint of mischief flickered across his face before he scoffed and turned away from you, taking up his same stance from before. You could have tossed the remaining Ratafia in your glass at his back. He’d always had this uncanny ability to wind you up since the day you’d met. It still hadn’t changed. Your mother said that it was a blessing, and it would mean your marriage would not be a bore.
“It figures you would regress into a state of cowardice at the mere spark of a conversation,” you speared, knowing it would rile him up.
As expected, Simon spun around to face you but also took the three steps needed to be only inches from your face.
“Did you call me a coward?”
You fought a smile. “I wouldn’t dare, your grace.”
You knew he heard the sarcasm in your voice.
“All right, your grace, I shall educate you, but only a little. You are married, as sure as that bauble decorates your dainty finger, but just because you are married, it does not make you mature,” Simon reiterated.
You waited for him to continue, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you anxiously wanted to hear the end of his thought. Your eyes dipped lower than his to his mouth and watched him smile. That smile was something that was growing on you every time you saw it. You realized the dryness of your throat then, and you snaked your tongue out to wet your lips. His eyes dropped to your lips and stayed there for several long moments.
Simon leaned an inch closer. He could almost touch your nose with his. “You are not mature until you have woken the next morning in nothing by the bed sheets, with aches in muscles and places you never knew you could ache, and a road map of marks along your body all made with nothing but lips all from your first night with a man,” he said in the most alluring voice.
A strange feeling washed over you, and you feared you might actually swoon. Clouds seemed to fill your head as your entire body became so heated as if the fire you were standing near had caught on your body. You tried to control your expression, all the while Simon watched you. After a few seconds, Simon’s jaw clenched, making the muscles in his neck jump.
“Maturity, your grace, requires a toll be paid, and it must be paid over and over and over,” he finished. A scowl replaced his clenched jaw, and the thought that he felt disappointment made your stomach sink.
“And how many tolls have you collected, your grace?
Simon looked caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t a dignified question. One does not ask a man, even if he is her husband, such things.
“Plenty, but remember one needn’t make it an all-night occasion. Five minutes or so in a parlor could suffice.”
Jealousy hit you, and you couldn’t hide it. Simon smirked, then scoffed, but the smile slipped and was replaced with a frown.
“Well, my husband, the rake. I am surprised you wed at all.”
Simon looked pained, but you did not focus on it.
“As am I, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” He muttered it, but you heard it through. Instead of letting another emotion slip, you raised the glass to your lips and drank it all down in one agonizing and sicking move. Once finished, you walked off, leaving him there.
Mere hours into your marriage and things were already falling apart; you thought as you walked out of the ballroom and outside into the chilly night air. You took a deep breath, held it, and did it again and again. The man made you angry and flustered in under five minutes. You couldn’t help but reminisce about your time casually talking at balls and events around London while you were on the marriage mart. He’d been terse to begin with, but slowly he’d warmed to you.
You’d developed the beginning buds of a friendship that took you by surprise but was welcoming. While every man in London was trying to put their best foot forward to entice you into marriage, Simon was not. He showed plenty of his bad habits, his cynicism and preference to see the worst in people, his inability to see the true heart of those in his company, his stubbornness, his temper, and on some occasions, his rakish ways. It didn’t matter, you never judged him for it, and you could tell he appreciated it.
“My, how things have changed,” you said to yourself once you were under a wide-spanned tree sitting on the stone bench.
You closed your eyes and listened to the night, finding comfort in the chirping crickets, the sound of the wind rustling the leaves, the faint rolling of the wheels from passing carriages, all backed by the orchestral music from the ballroom. Slowly your anger subsided. You didn’t even know why you were angry. You’d known he had no plans to marry. It was one of the very first things he’d told you, and he repeated it on so many occasions it was seared to your brain. The Duke of Hastings was not in want of a wife. Yet, here you were married to him, all because of one night similar to this one.
It was your fault. You felt as if you’d left him with no other choice. You thought back to the night that had changed everything. You didn’t know what you were doing when you allowed him to cross the lines of proper distance between two unwed people. The only thing you could think about when he slowly came closer and closer was how badly you wanted to know what he smelled like underneath his cravat. For weeks the casual way he had it done with the different materials that were so much more vibrant than others always drew your attention.
In your few moments of stupor, Simon had managed to come so close you could see the small flecks of auburn within his eyes. His unexpected closeness made you swoon slightly, and his arms were there to catch you and hold you against him. It was your first time being close to a man that was not either of your brothers. Even then, there was some distance.
Simon’s hand then grazed your cheek and trailed down to your jaw before curving back to where your earlobe hung. You’d lost whatever strength your knees had and slumped against him just as his finger dipped down your neck and coming across your collar, and it was there he stopped. It took several moments for his finger to plunge lower until it dangled right above the rise of your breast. When he dipped his head down while maintaining eye contact, you began to shake in his arms. He took a deep inhale at the swell of your breast.
“You’re trembling like a leaf, are you cold?”
You shook your head slightly.
“Then what are you, Ms. Remmington?”
You could smell the brandy on his breath, but there was something else too, something you couldn’t make out.
“Quite fevered,” you whispered.
Simon took another deep inhale of your skin then moaned.
“Goodness, you smell of roses, night jasmine and--,” he inhaled again. “Orange blossom. You smell like my best dreams, Ms. Remmington.”
Your breath hitched. Simon came closer and closer until his lips hovered over yours. You should have moved and chastised him about impropriety, but you stood there while the hand that was at the middle of your back slid lower and lower until you felt his fingertips pressing into the flesh just above the swell of your bottom. The action brought your lower half firmly against his. You didn’t know what you felt, but it was something. His lips only slightly grazed yours before you’d heard voices approaching you. He’d been the one to pull away from you first and apologize profusely before he’d walked off, leaving you pressed against the wall of roses that was right behind you.
“Already hiding from your husband?”
You opened your eyes and saw your best friend, Tessa, standing there with a teasing smirk.
“Tessa.”
You began to stand, but she stopped you, sitting beside you instead.
“Your grace,” she said.
Scoffing, you bumped her with your shoulder. “Oh, stop it. Do not tease me. I am still Jemilla. I will hear no nonsense of your grace from you.”
“I know you are Jemi, but you are also a Duchess now. It would be faulty to not acknowledge it, especially in public, at least once.”
You sighed and fiddled with the new ring on your finger underneath your white gloves.
“We are not in public now. It is just you, and I so do away with it.”
“Very well.” Tessa remained quiet for a few seconds before she turned to you with an excited smile. “All right, show it to me.”
You pulled off the glove and showed her the wedding ring Simon had placed on your finger earlier in the day. Tessa gasped, grabbed your hand, and brought it closer to her face.
“Oh my. I dare say the Duke has excellent taste. It is quite beautiful. While most husbands give their wives one jewel, yours had bestowed you a bevy.”
You snorted and looked out into the night while she continued to gawk at the bauble.
“So why are you out here and your new husband nowhere in sight?”
You bit your bottom lip then looked at her. You’d told her everything that had happened between you and Simon. You’d told her the reason your engagement was so quick and that there was no love between you and him.
“Oh come, come, Jemi. I know you wanted to marry for love and desire and passion, but just because your marriage did not start that way does not mean it cannot end up there,” Tessa suggested.
“Tessa, be realistic. I have told you the things he has said about marriage. He came to town with no intent on marriage.”
“And look, he is married now, in mere weeks no less. Jemi, a man will say all sorts of things to prevent something, but from this day on, he is yours.”
It was then you thought back to his words by the fireplace.
“And how many tolls have you collected, your grace?
“Plenty, but remember one needn’t make it an all-night occasion. Five minutes or so in a parlor could suffice.”
You could have laughed out loud, but you didn’t. He hadn’t been yours before, and you doubted he was now.
“Tonight is your wedding night. Perhaps you shall feel differently in the morning,” Tessa said, a broad smile spread across her face.
You knew what she was insinuating. You had heard the chatter of a woman’s wedding night but had heard nothing of consequence. All you and Tessa were left with were speculation and plenty of possible theories and fantasies. Tessa stood and held out her arm for yours. After slipping your glove back on, you looped your arm with hers and allowed her to lead you back into the ballroom.
Once you were seen, your mother approached you and swiftly brought you towards your new husband, then enticed him to dance with you for all the ton to see. Simon, of course, complied, and the two of you drew every pair of eyes. Rather than looking directly at him, you kept your eyes somewhere neutral, somewhere that it would appear to others you were staring into his eyes.
“Remember what I said to you the first time we danced like this?”
“We’ve never danced like this, your grace.”
“You are right; our titles, or rather your title, has changed but are we not the same people?”
You fell into the trap and met his eyes.
“Are we, your grace?”
Simon peered deeply into your eyes as if he were looking for that very answer.
“I am told we have our entire lives to figure it out.”
Feeling your face beginning to shift to give away your inner feelings, you looked away, back to his ear.
“Stare into my eyes.”
They were words he’d said before, in the exact manner. You ignored his instruction, though the urge to obey pulled at your willfulness.
“Jemilla,” Simon said in a low, deep voice.
“Stare into my eyes.”
You caved and darted your eyes to his. Simon held it for a few moments.
“If this is to work, we must appear madly in love,” he said.
The words garnered almost the same reaction as it had the first time he’d uttered them. The only difference was you were well aware that appearances were not nearly all that they seemed. It had worked a little too well, and now you were married and so far from madly in love.
By the end of the evening, your feet hurt from all the walking around and dancing, and your head throbbed slightly, probably from the music and being unable to eat even one bite due to the anxiousness that had plagued you all day. After you’d said your goodbyes to your siblings, mother, and friends, you climbed into the carriage with Simon, unsure just where you were heading. You didn’t pay too much attention to the darkness outside the window because your head was too caught up in thoughts of what was to come.
You fiddled with your gloved hands, your bouquet that you’d nearly stroked all buds from all in an effort to take your mind off of things. After thirty minutes in the bumpy carriage, you saw a large tree pass by. You looked around you, trying to figure out where you were.
“Where—where are we?”
“One of my estates, Briarvale, Simon answered.
“Briarvale. I thought we were going to Clyvedon?”
“No, Clyvedon is quite far, much too far to travel tonight. Briarvale is the in-between point. We will stop, rest for the night, then continue on and should reach Clyvedon by late afternoon next.”
You nodded and lowered your eyes. “I should have made you aware of the plans before. I am afraid I am so used to consulting no one I did not stop to realize I now might have to. I apologize.”
He didn’t sound angry about it, just remorseful. Maybe he was being sincere. When the carriage stopped, the jarvey opened the door and helped you out. Some torches lit the entire walk path to the front door, where two servants were standing at either side of the door. Simon stepped out beside you and cleared his throat.
“After you, your grace.”
You walked ahead while taking in the large home before you. It was two times bigger than the one you’d spent half of your life in, and you imagined Cleyvdon would be four times larger than this one. You never imagined marrying this wealthy. Wealth was never one of your concerns at all.
“Welcome, your graces.”
You and Simon walked inside into the foyer.
“I will let you get settled,” Simon said before walking off, leaving you standing there and wondering where he was going.
One of the maids led you through the house to the stairs. As you climbed them, you took in the paintings on the wall and the wood’s shine. It was a well-kept residence. A few minutes later, the maid stopped in front of a door.
“Your room, your grace.”
“Thank you. what is your name?”
She looked surprised by your question, but she still answered. “Ingrid, your grace.”
“Thank you, Ingrid.”
She smiled and bowed her head, and waited for you to walk inside. When you did, the fire was crackling, making the large room very inviting.
“Is everything to your liking, your grace?”
You nodded. “Thank you, yes.”
Ingrid nodded, then walked out of the room, leaving you with your thoughts. You knew he would come, so you waited. You took the time to look around the room at the different paintings and objects and even examining the material of the sheets on the bed. Still, Simon hadn’t appeared. That was when your pacing began and did not stop. After pacing for quite a while, you finally stopped, then took off your shoes and waited some more. When another ten minutes passed with no Simon, you peeled off your stockings but hesitated to remove any more articles of clothing.
When you were sure you’d waited an hour more, you got annoyed and walked to the door. As soon as you opened it you saw one of the maids passing.
“Hello there.”
The young woman turned, startled, then dipped down to a bow.
“Your grace, is something the matter?”
You were embarrassed even to ask her this. “No, nothing is wrong. Have you—do you know where—has his grace retired for the evening?”
The maid gave you a curious look. No doubt she was thinking that you should know better than her. He was your husband, after all.
“Uh—no, ma’am. His grace is still in the study. Would you like me to deliver a message?”
“No! No. Thank you.”
You went back into the room, closed the door, and sighed out. She undoubtedly found it strange, and you worried you’d be the gossip of the house in the morning. You began undressing as you’d done plenty of times before then climbed into bed, leaving your petticoat on. Instead of going to sleep right away, you sat up and waited.
You didn’t know what was going on or what to expect, and that was the part that gave you the most anxiety and distress. After another hour, it was clear to see that Simon was not coming. You didn’t know what to think or feel. The very little you’d been told to expect still made no sense, especially since it hadn’t happened. Or had it? Your mother told you that your husband would take the lead. Had Simon taken the lead by staying away?
After going over it tens of times in your head, you snuffed out the candle that was on its last inch of life and lay down to stare at the upper canopy of the bed.
You were married, but his actions had proven the line was drawn, and you were on opposite sides with chasms between you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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#pleasing the duke fic#rege jean page fanfiction#the duke of hastings fanfiction#regency fanfic#the duke of hastings x ofc#bridgerton fanfiction#slow burn fanfic
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In the Bleak Midwinter {15}
A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.
Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.
A/N: I am so sorry it took me so long to update this! I have a lot of WIPs going on at once. I promise to update this again this week, though! Anyway, enjoy! I mean...if you can...
All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.
**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.
Links & masterlists:
Fanfic Masterlist
Ask me
The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}
In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}
Lysandra rolled over to find Aedion watching her with tired eyes. She chuckled, quietly, before rolling herself on top of him and pressing her mouth to his.
“Good morning, husband.”
“Wife,” he mumbled, his deep voice raspy from sleep, his hands wandering down to her bare ass.
“I like that name on your lips,” she mumbled, rocking herself against his hardened cock.
He groaned, and flipped her over. Her back hit the mattress as he hovered over her, as his lips trailed down the side of her neck. With her fingers tangling into his long, golden hair, Lysandra’s eyes drifted shut as she allowed her husband to explore her body.
Those beautiful, soft lips trailed down her shoulder and across her collarbone, down to her breasts where he worshiped her, slowly, with his tongue, his lips. She never opened her eyes, she let herself get lost in his touch, and his touch alone. Aedion was always so gentle, so delicate, while being fully confident in everything he did to her. He wanted her to know that she was respected, adored, that he didn’t want to be like all the assholes she was forced to be with throughout the years. He never wanted her to feel degraded. And yet, at the same time, he had to let her know just how wild, how completely barbaric she made him.
As his lips trailed lower, he displayed just that.
His mouth wandered between her legs, his head disappeared beneath the sheets. Lysandra gripped onto the pillows that surrounded her as he stroked her in an agonizingly slow pace between her folds. She let loose a breath as her back arched, as his tongue took its sweet time tasting her.
“Is this how you’ll wake me up every morning?” Lysandra breathed.
Aedion hummed something against her sex that brought an entirely new sensation sweeping through her body.
She took it as a yes, and remained silent as he worked his charm. Silent enough, anyway. She couldn’t help the sounds she made as he sucked on her clit and held her ass down firmly against the mattress to keep her from writhing.
And when he leaned up and pushed his cock inside of her, Lysandra became undone, her voice unable to not be heard.
She didn’t care.
Let them hear.
She let them hear her joy, her triumph, her peace in the fact that she had married a man who loved her, respected her, a man who she was so madly in love with that it made her feel invincible, even in the chaos that was their lives.
~~~
Rowan hated having so many people in the house. He was on guard, even though it was broad daylight and plenty of innocent people were around. He liked to think that even Maeve had a slight inkling of morals inside of her, somewhere.
Aelin was loving it. She was loving the florists and the decorators and the caterers spread throughout the estate. His beautiful, pregnant wife was a people person, and she had been secluded for too long.
“The band will be showing up soon,” Aelin told him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He chuckled, and kissed her, softly.
“Can’t wait,” he lied, and when the doors to the ballroom opened, his hand went straight for his gun, out of habit, out of instinct.
It was only Gavriel and Natalia, and it was the latter who was talking and the former who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world. He gave Rowan a pleading look, but Rowan only grinned.
Gavriel had gotten himself into that mess and Rowan was having too much fun watching the outcome to help him out of it.
“I wish you’d calm down,” Aelin said, quietly, running her hands down his forearms. “There’s going to be so many people here, Ro. And it actually feels normal for once. Haven’t you missed being normal?”
Rowan snorted. “When have our lives ever been normal?”
“Normal for us,” Aelin clarified.
“You should really be taking it easy, you know,” Rowan mumbled, cupping her face in his hands. “That baby needs to eat at some point. And rest. Maybe you should, you know, eat then rest instead of running around like a madwoman.”
“Calling me a madwoman only makes me crazier,” she said, pressing her lips to his before fluttering off, yet again.
He watched her go, smiling fondly after her. She didn’t take his advice, whatsoever. For the rest of the afternoon, all she did was make sure the estate was in pristine condition.
At least someone was doing it, he supposed.
He certainly didn’t want the job.
Lorcan seemed to be doing well. Rowan thought that even he was excited to be around a crowd again - and Lorcan hated crowds nearly as much as Rowan did. Elide loved crowds though, loved people, loved parties. Maybe the event reminded him of her. Maybe he was channeling her energy.
Even Rowan had to admit the sight of him chasing Lucy around the ballroom and through the halls was a sight to behold.
Elide would be proud.
By the time guests began to arrive, Rowan was dressed in his finest suit, per his wife’s request, and greeting each of them as they came in, encouraging them all to donate to the building of the new library, which he would also be doing.
Gavriel was the one who was truly good at talking to strangers. Rowan tended to scare most of them, Lorcan more so, and Fenrys was keeping himself hidden in the corner. Vaughan was good at smiling, and nodding thanks to those who came into the door, but it was Gavriel who had a true way with words, a warm welcoming.
It was because of that that Rowan made him stay close to the entryway.
His warm demeanor, and the fact that he could pick out a traitor, a fake, instantly, and had a great shot.
“You need to relax,” Aelin whispered into Rowan’s ear, when it was clear he was tense. “You said tonight was safe, and if everyone else sees you uneasy, they’re going to panic.”
Rowan nodded, but didn’t say a thing. All day all he could think about, the second people began to stream through the door, was that this was a mistake.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, though. Natalia floated around Gavriel with a drink in her hand, even though she never actually said a word to him, allowing him to do his job. Lorcan walked around with Lucy in his arms, showing her off to every swooning woman that looked his way. Lorcan may not have been good with people, but Lucy was a definite conversation starter in her little, red frilly dress. Vaughan was walking around the room, silently thanking everyone for coming. Lysandra and Aedion were obsessed with the world now knowing they were man and wife, and had already told the story of their wedding a hundred times.
Although Fenrys lingered in the corner, his foot tapped along with the beat of the band.
“Ro.” His eyes snapped down to Aelin, who was frowning. “You’re worrying me.”
“Why?” he asked, then forced a smile. “Go have fun, A. Enjoy your time. I’m alright, alright?”
Her smile was uncertain, but she nodded, nonetheless. After finding Lysandra and dragging her friend onto the dance floor, Rowan went to check all the posts, to make sure everything was secure.
~~~~
Aelin was exhausted.
Being pregnant and socializing with people for hours on end did not collide well. By the time ten rolled around, she was ready to be in her comfy clothes, in bed.
It seemed that Lucy thought the same, as she was sound asleep on Lorcan’s shoulder.
“Want me to bring her up with me?” Aelin asked, stifling her yawn. “Natalia’s drunk off her ass and I’m exhausted.”
Lorcan chuckled and looked around at the still bustling party. “Yeah, that’d be great.”
Aelin smiled as she took Lucy from Lorcan’s arms. The toddler barely stirred as she settled against Aelin, her cheek resting on her aunt’s shoulder. After telling everyone goodnight, Aelin was walking up the stairs with a snoozing Lucy.
After getting into Lorcan’s bedroom, Aelin dug up a little nightgown and helped an exhausted Lucy into it before sitting in the corner rocking chair for a moment to help her settle back down. Once she was sleeping soundly with her mouth hanging open, Aelin carried her to her crib and laid her down. For a moment, she looked at the toddler, admiring the little miracle. She looked so much like her father, but so many things about Lucy reminded her of Elide. Her wild nature, her curiosity, her beautiful smile. Aelin missed her friend, missed the girl she had grown up with, but she was so grateful to have Lucy, someone Aelin could watch grow up, someone to remind Aelin everyday of the young life that was lost too soon.
She kissed the toddler’s forehead before settling onto Lorcan’s bed. With all the people downstairs, Aelin thought it best to stay close. Surprisingly, Lorcan’s bed smelled pretty good. It was definitely comfortable. With a yawn, Aelin closed her eyes and settled into a deep, peaceful sleep.
The next time she opened her eyes, though, she was met with a knife at her throat and malicious, violet eyes staring back at her in the darkness.
~~~~~
Lorcan was exhausted by the time the workers were breaking down the decor. They had raised a ton of money for the library, which was a good thing, but Lorcan could have done without the endless conversing with other people. Elide had always been the people person, not him.
As he padded up the stairs, all he wanted was to fall into his bed and sleep for days. With a yawn, he stumbled through his doorway, and strutted to the little hall in between his bedroom and Natalia’s that she shared with Lucy.
He was only a few feet away from the crib when he stilled. At first, he thought it was a trick of the light, thought the darkness was messing with his mind. Then he took another step closer, and another, and another, until his fingers were gripping the side of the crib and his knuckles were turning white.
A panic began to rise in the pit of his stomach when the realization hit him.
The crib was empty.
He looked around as if Lucy had climbed out of her crib and began to discover the excitement of the room. As if she could have been hiding, Lorcan began to tear the room apart. Books fell to the ground, pillows flew across the room, everything inside of Natalia’s wardrobe was thrown out.
Lucy was nowhere,
“Lucille!” he yelled, knowing full well that his voice was full of terror. A thousand different scenarios ran through his mind, all with a different outcome, all unimaginable. “Lucy!”
With Natalia’s room a mess, he found nothing, and he was just about to tear the rest of the estate apart when he threw open the door.
Rowan stood there, his eyes wide.
Locan’s chest was heaving as he met his friend’s stare.
“Aelin’s gone,” Rowan whispered, holding up a note. The pristine cursive was all too familiar. “And she has Lucy, too.”
~~~~
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#tog#throne#of glass#period au#PB au#throne of glass#rowaelin#elorcan#lysaedion#sjm#fanfic#fanfiction
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Influencing the Influencer
By Hypnofur
“I have to say, I am loving retirement. This is my first year of being retired and it was everything I dreamed it would be and more. Everyone should retire at 36!” Dan joked into the microphone. The two radio guys laughed harder than they should have. While Dan knew that regular people couldn’t retire at 36, he wasn’t joking about loving retirement. He had been playing football since second grade. He enjoyed a 15 year career in the NFL. 13 of those years were in Cincinnati, but the last two were in Kansas City… where a SuperBowl was won in his last season.
Being part of a Super Bowl team, even as a backup like Dan was by the end of his career, makes you royalty in that city for the rest of time. Heck, ask the ’85 Bears about that. Especially in cities that love their team as much as KC. Dan always wanted to win one for Cincy, the city that he truly identified as home now, but that was never even close to being in the cards.
However, Dan was the only high profile guy from the Super Bowl team to retire after the big win. The rest of the guys pretty much stayed on the team, and were in the Super Bowl again this year. As such, all the KC radio and media people were desperate for a “Chiefs Insider” to talk to. Dan was flown down to Tampa for the week to do radio, tv, etc. He was considering a career in broadcasting, so this all-expense paid trip was a nice little trial run. The only downside of it, was that Casey didn’t come with him.
Dan’s wife was going to go to Tampa with him, and make a ton of Instagram videos and posts from Tampa. She was incredibly excited about it, as was the social media company that employed her to do all these blogs. Her sweetness, honesty, great style, and knockout natural beauty was evident to anyone who saw her, whether in real life or on a screen. She had sort of become “Cincy’s Sweetheart” over the years, so when influencers became a thing, she was in high demand. The Tampa vlogs were likely going to set records for likes. However, Dan’s mom broke her ankle in a fall the week before.
Casey insisted she stay home to help Dan’s mom. This is why Dan was head over heels for her. Yes, she was gorgeous. But she was also the sweetest, most wonderful wife in the world. While all the other players would have girlfriends and hook ups in each city, Dan never did. He was completely and utterly faithful to Casey.
With all this said, while Casey didn’t go to Tampa, she had to vlog about something. Trips to Dan’s Mom’s house during the day to help her out wouldn’t make good content. Such was the topic of conversation as the couple chatted on the phone Friday morning.
“So did you find anything to vlog about?” Dan asked.
“Ugh, I think so. They really want us to push groupon experience things. They gave DeAndra groupon passes to a comedy show, so we are going to do that.” Casey told her husband. She meant to sound a bit more cheery as she did so. She was trying so hard to not show her disappointment over not being in Tampa. She didn’t want to make him feel bad.
“Oh yeah, is Darnell going? If the dude is funny, the sound of Darnell’s laugh when he gets roaring is the only thing anyone in that place is going to hear! Hopefully the dude doesn’t make Bengals jokes. Darnell will get up on that stage!” Dan laughed, as did Casey.
“Did you drink tons of water last night?” Casey asked. She was always concerned about him.
“Hahah. I did. A whole river. I’m doing good. Three more days babe, then I am home to you. I miss you so much.” Dan said, very truthfully.
“Me too. I’ll tell DeAndra and Darnell you said hi” she smiled as she hung up.
Dan missed her terribly, but he was at least pleased that he’d have her vlog to watch later that night. He loved watching those. However, it was Friday night of Super Bowl week. Dan had a whirlwind day. He was treated like a Chiefs Legend because he was wearing that Super Bowl ring. He even got invited to a dinner with Joe Montana! He couldn’t pass that up. Dinner was great. Drinks were had, and not enough water was consumed. Dan passed out when he got back to the hotel.
It was late the next morning when Dan finally awoke. He realized that he had missed Casey’s Instagram vlog. He was surprised he didn’t have a text about that from her. He checked her Insta page. There wasn’t one from last night. That was really odd. He started to get a little nervous.
He texted her. “Hi, you ok? No vlog from last night?”
Fortunately, he got an immediate return text “Just filmed it this morning. Posting now J”
That put him at ease. He took a quick shower, and then grabbed his phone to see his beautiful wife’s angelic face. She was in her car. For some reason, that’s where people filmed themselves. Dan never understood why that was a thing.
“Hey guys, its Casey! Hope you are all having a great weekend! I know it is Super Bowl weekend, and that is super exciting for tomorrow! But, I wanted to tell you guys about a great experience me and my friends had thanks to groupon last night! My hubby is out of town, and I was feeling kind of sad, but then my friends called and said they had a groupon for an awesome experience. Totally changed the course of my weekend!
So we went to Funny Bone at Liberty Center, which is such a cute place! Anyway, my friend DeAndra told me the comedian was actually a stage hypnotist named Arnold Denton, aka The Amazing Hypno-natti. When I heard hypnotist, I was freaking out! Oh, and yeah, I found the name ‘Hypno-natti’ lame as well, but trust me guys, he is soooooo amazing!
So anyway guys, when we got in, I decided to put my fear aside and volunteer. Seriously guys, it was one of the craziest experiences I’ve ever had. Before we were even brought up on stage, we had to sign a waiver that basically said the hypnotist is not responsible for any injuries that may occur and all that other fun legal stuff. Guys, believe me when I tell you that I cannot recall a moment in my in my life that I was more nervous when I was up on that stage. The hypnotist explained to us, and the rest of the audience, that what we were about to experience was extremely different. Some of us would remember exactly what happened, and some of us wouldn’t. In total, there were probably about like twenty five of us lined up in front of the stage and the audience was told to be completely silent.
Right before we began, the hypnotist told us that we would be “under” for about a half an hour, but our bodies would react as if it had been asleep for 8 hours. So crazy! From what I can remember, it went a little like this:
We were told to sit down and just relax. With our eyes closed, we were told that we should feel this ‘energy of relaxation’ that would begin to pool at our feet and then work its way up to our body. All the while, there was this really strange music that was playing and the hypnotist was talking to us. After about 5 minutes he had us open our eyes and raise our arms horizontally and lock our fingers together so that we made a ball with our fists. At this point, we are still not under, so we were all aware of our surroundings and what not. Next thing I know, Hypno-natti is coming straight down the line and thrusting our hands down into our laps and pushing our heads down onto the shoulder of the person sitting to our left. It was about my turn and the last thing I can remember about this part is him yelling “Sleep!”
After the whole intro, we woke up and he was kind of pacing the stage and the audience was giggling and stuff and I can remember being super confused. I seriously thought that the show ended and I was actually asleep the whole time. As he was pacing, he was just casually talking to the audience and then he said “spark” (what I now know is a “trigger word”) and just like that it felt as though the wrath of God had come through the leg of the chair I was sitting in and electrocuted me in the butt! It hurt so bad; not like a long pain, but just like a jolt of electricity. I stood up so fast and everybody in the place was just rolling! I looked around and it was just me and another guy standing and grabbing our butts. He did this a couple more times and then triggered some of the other people and the whole time I just remember being super confused. At one point, I remember crying, because I had fallen deeply, madly in love with him, and he was dancing with someone else. It was soo crazy guys! Long story short, the hypnotist basiscally made us his personal puppets and we were slightly embarrassed, but it was all in good fun. My friends and I totally laughed about it all night after. It was a great experience that was all made possible through groupon!! Swipe up and see what other fun experiences they can save you a ton on. Luv you guys!!!” She concluded with a kiss of her fingers then the peace sign.
Dan loved to see her and hear her voice. He was wishing it wasn’t 48 full hours until he’d get to see her again. But it was. Those 48 hours went quickly at least. Frankly, it was a whirlwind. By the time he walked in the door of his spacious Cincinnati home Monday morning, he was exhausted – but so glad to hug, squeeze, and kiss his gorgeous brunette wife.
“Tell me everything!!” Casey said as she put some coffee on. She could tell by his face that he needed it.
Dan laughed as he admitted he exhausted. It had been quite a week of late night dinners, Super Bowl parties, and media work. It was terrific, but it wiped him out. However, he happily launched into his diatribe. He told her about all the radio shows he went on, and how he even did a couple TV spots. Casey squealed when he told her that he plugged her vlogs on all the local Cincinnati shows.
“ooooh My big media mogul!” Casey flirted. Her big brown eyes gazing into Dan’s. Then her phone beeped with a text, which was a constant occurrence. She grabbed it and checked the text. It was at this point that her expression changed. She became completely focused on the phone. It was like she suddenly forgot Dan was there.
“Who’s that?” Dan asked, realizing this was strange. Was someone hurt? Was something wrong? Casey didn’t answer. She just typed a couple things on her phone, and then walked upstairs, not even addressing Dan as she left. Dan found this very strange, but he also had to pee really bad. He figured he’d see what the deal was, but had to handle that situation briefly before anything else.
Much to his shock, by the time he got up to the bedroom, Casey was naked and wearing headphones. She was sprawled out on their bed, reclining in a mound of fur pillows. Naked and eyes closed with her blue bullet vibrator that they had bought as a sexy toy at their anniversary. Dan understandably figured that this was a “welcome home” sex game. He found himself immediately getting hard.
"I’m going deeper and deeper." Casey said quietly. Dan assumed she was talking about the vibrator going into her pussy. This was unusual sex talk from her, but he was still into it.
She moans, "Going deeper and deeper. I am deeply hypnotized. "
Dan was stunned. She was sooooooo freaking sexy with a nipple in one hand and that toy teasing the other one. But what did she say? Did she say hypnotized?
“Deeply hypnotized and deep under your control.” She whispers.
Dan heard that and got more concerned, but then couldn’t help but notice that he sound of the vibrator changed! She had turned up the setting. Soon, she was pinching her breasts and her hips are starting to rock slowly. She was moaning and purring. Dan was so hard he couldn’t think straight.
Casey turned the toy up to level 3; as fast as it goes. The next 4 settings are just various combinations of the 3 vibration speeds. Her hips were moving faster, her breasts were bouncing and she was having a hard time keeping the toy on her clit. Her teeth were clenched and she could feel the orgasm start to creep over her skin. . Her chest was heaving as she changed the setting on the toy again.
Slow, Slow, Slow, medium, medium, medium, fast, fast, fast
Slow, Slow, Slow, medium, medium, medium, fast, fast, fast
Slow, Slow, Slow, medium, medium, medium, fast, fast, fast
Slow, Slow, Slow, medium, medium, medium, fast, fast, fast
With hypnotic words and commands being fed into her mind, the orgasm raced up her torso and arched her body off the bed. Her neck muscles tightened and her eyes pinched shut as she screamed out loud and held the toy in place right on top of her clit.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOhHHHHHHHHHH, OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! I server Master Hypno-natti!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I belong to Master Hypno-natti!!!!!!!!!!!! OOOOHHHHMYGODMASTERRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Shock from Dan.
Awe from Dan.
Lust from Dan.
Fear from Dan.
Anger from Dan… and anger won.
He grabbed the headphones and ripped them off her. He yelled right into the microphone. “This is her husband, you sick fuck! Stay the fuck away from us, or I’ll rip your motherfucking arms off!!!!”
There was a click, and Dan knew that the person on the other end of that phone was gone. He turned his attention to Casey, who was now glistening with sweat, and still breathing heavy.
“Cay – Cay, wake up babe. Cay” he said, shaking his wife.
She eventually stirred, opened her big brown eyes and stared back at her husband. “Dan, what’s going on?” she asked.
“This is going to sound nuts, babe. But I think the hypnotist from the other night, like triggered you into masturbating for him on the phone.” Dan explained carefully. He wasn’t sure how his Catholic, surprisingly conservative wife would handle this manipulation.
He watched her face as the realization of what happened washed over her. He held his breath as he expected the tears to start rolling. Instead, she looked at him wide eyed. Then her beautiful big brown eyes slowly went down to his crotch.
“I missed you” she whispered, as she stared at her husband’s erection.
Confusion from Dan.
Fear from Dan.
Love from Dan.
Lust from Dan… and lust won.
He went down and made love to his wife. They kissed passionately, like the reunited lovers they were. Dan couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. He couldn’t wait any longer, and inserted himself right into his wife’s already very wet pussy. He glided right in. He didn’t last long in there. Within 30 seconds, he had finished. Casey giggled and gave him a loving hug. He crashed on to the bed beside her. Planning to only take a minute to catch his breath and then have a talk with his wife about the whole hypnotist thing, Dan accidentally fell sound asleep. The crazy week of the Super Bowl was just too much. He was out like a light, he didn’t even hear Casey get a text...
Dan slept for a good two and a half hours. He woke up to Casey lovingly rubbing his back.
“Hey babe, if you sleep too long, you won’t be able to get to sleep tonight. Your schedule will be all wacky.” She said lovingly. He knew she was right. She was always taking care of him.
Dan turned around in the bed and smiled at his beautiful wife. She had gotten freshened up, her clothes were back on and she was all together. God, she was so beautiful. Like a brunette angel.
“Hey, try this” she said, handing Dan a cup of tea. “It is a new chamomile tea they want us to vlog about. It’s actually reeaalllly good!” Casey said excitedly. Dan took the tea and tried it. He wasn’t a tea guy, but… anything for Casey.
“Hey, look babe, we have to talk about that Hypno-natti guy. I think he’s like still playing with your head” Dan said. He had always been direct. “When I came upstairs, you were on the phone with him I think, and you were, you know…”
“Playing with myself?” Casey said with a devilish, but so cute grin. She didn’t usually say things like that.
“Yeah” Dan said, surprised she said that out loud. He felt his dick stir a bit.
“Seriously babe, you are going to love that tea” Casey encouraged. Dan took another sip. It was pretty good.
“So, that was hot to see, I’ll admit, but you can’t have some guy like… controlling you to do sex stuff” Dan said, surprised he needed to map it out to her to this point.
Casey nodded. Then she looked at the bed sheet starting to tent around Dan’s groin. She laughed. “Well well, me thinks he doth protest too much” she teased. “OMG, I forgot to tell you. I saw the BEST movie on HBO Max when you were gone!” she said exuberantly.
“HBO Max? Babe, we should really deal with this hypnotist thing.” Dan said, what the hell was going on? His head was feeling a bit tingly. Boy, he must still be tired.
“I know Dan, and we will. I’m sorry, I have just missed you soo much. I saw this movie, and it was like, really sexy. And I can see that you are, you know… turned on right now” she said as she gently stroked his growing hard on.
“We can deal with this hypno stuff later. But right now, I am in the mood, and you are in the mood, and I want to show you the sexiest things I’ve ever seen on screen. Finish your tea and we can check this out” Casey said as she leaned into a sensual kiss with her husband.
Dan was a very smart man. He went to Notre Dame. He knew something was seriously fucked up here. But he was a MAN. And the curiosity of what kind of movie could have been so hot that it got her acting like this was just too curious for him to ignore. Against his better judgement, he let his beautiful wife lead him to their home theater room. He felt his head spin as he stood up from the bed.
“Take a seat in the middle” Casey directed with another long sensual kiss before turning on the surround sound and the media player. Dan’s eyes were glued to her. She was walking around such sexy confidence. He had never seen her like this. What the hell was in this movie???
Satisfied that the AV system was on and playing, Casey sat down in the large velvet chair next to her husband’s. The giant screen was black for a while, and Dan noticed that there was a humming coming from the speakers. The humming was vibrating through this very core. It felt… warm? Was that right? Soon there was a black and white spiral on the screen. What kind of HBO Max thing is this? Dan thought. Then he remembered the hypnotist. Wait, what the fuck? He went to protest, but he was becoming enthralled by the whirling spiral that had become the only thing in the room. He could feel it hypnotizing him, warm waves of relaxation moving out from it into his opening mind. Hypnotizing him. Hypnotizing Casey. Hypnotizing them with the way it spun around and around, always going deeper.
This was how it felt to be hypnotized? Dan thought to himself. He never could have dreamed how nice it was. How good it felt to be under hypnosis, under hypnotic control. He knew who the voice belonged to now, that it was Hypno-natti talking to them as they watched in a deep hypnotic state. Hypno-natti was amazing! Sooo amazing. Hypno-natti was the master of the fascinating, hypnotic spiral that controlled their minds.. He was telling them that it was time to submit their entire mind and body now, to go into a trance.
Dan knew he didn’t want to do that, but he felt a deep desire to obey, an overwhelming urge to submit. Pleasing Hypno-natti was most important. To go into a trance for Hypno-natti. Hypno-naitti’s voice was telling them to prepare to surrender totally to his hypnotic power. The spiral was turning faster now. Dan felt all his thoughts begin to move down into it. He could feel the intense hypnotic influence reaching out for his mind and he couldn’t help but submit. Faster and faster, round and round. He was falling into it. Falling faster and faster. She could see only an endless spiral in front of him now, a deep whirling tunnel that pulled him in as he stared into it. Hypno-natti’s voice was controlling their thoughts, hypnotizing them into total obedience.. There was only the spiral. And the voice. The whirling spiral. The soothing voice. Hypno-natti’s voice. Their master. Dan knew he must obey. Casey knew she must obey her master. They were hypnotized, so deeply and completely.
Next thing Dan knew, he was somehow in the foyer. When had he left the theater room? There was a knock at the door. He answered. There was a small scrawny guy about 10 years older than him standing in the doorway.
“Can I help you?” Dan asked, his head still cloudy.
“I’m the Amazing Hypno-natti” the man said. His majestic voice now very familiar to the former NFL start. “Invite me in” he commanded.
“Please, come in” Dan said immediately, stepping out of the way.
Casey had entered the foyer when she heard the knock. When she saw Hypno-natti, she was immediately overcome with desire. He was soooo sexy. The sexiest man ever born. She immediately felt her pussy moisten and her nipples get sensitive. She flirtatiously played with her hair and smiled at him.
“Hello my darling Casey” he said as he took her in. She was so incredibly beautiful with her gorgeous brunette hair, big brown eyes, and perfect trim figure.
Dan knew this wasn’t right. He could sense the attraction between them. What the hell? She was his wife. “Look buddy, I-”
“Dan, go into trance” Hypno-natti said authoritatively. Dan said nothing, but his hands fell to his sides.
“Casey, I am your Master. You desire me above anything else.” Hypno-natti said, feeling very confident that both parties in the couple were completely under his hypnotic sway.
He moved into Casey, kissing her neck gently. She was too lost in him to look over at her husband, who was still still standing next to her with a glazed, entranced look in his eyes.
At Hypno-natti’s direction, the three went upstairs to the bedroom. At this point, the hypnotist commanded Dan. "Take off your wife’s pants and panties”.
Dan rose to action slowly. "Yes, Sir," he said in a soft, deferential voice as he knelt in front of her and pulled down the black yoga pants and little satin panties that were meant for his homecoming.
“Lay her on the bed” Hypno-natti said as he took off his own pants. Dan complied and then went to stand up against the wall when instructed to do so. All this, despite the 10 or so inches of height and almost 150lbs of muscle that Dan had on the hypnotist.
Hypno-natti descended upon her, his face directly in front of hers. His eyes boring into her own. "Submit to my influence, Casey. Submit to my hypnotic power. Submit to Hypno-natti. Submit to hypnosis” he said as he again rhythmically put his cock against her body.
"Very, very good, Casey. You're blissfully floating, deeply in my erotic thrall, open to all my commands. Feeling so wonderful as you obey me. Realizing now that nothing seems important but obeying me, because it feels so wonderful, so sexual. You want the sexy feeling of obeying me, don't you, Casey?"
"Yes. I want to obey." She repeated happily, lost in lust.
"Very good Casey. The more obedient you are, the more wonderful you will feel. Only pleasing me matters now, nothing else. All you want now is the wonderful, sexual, floating feeling of obeying my voice. All you want is to be deeply under my control and to obey me. Tell me now what you want, Casey."
"Deeply under your control. Obey you."
"Do you want me inside you?" he asked the hypnotized wife.
"Yes!" Casey answered, no longer caring for her dignity, her marriage, or for anything but the prospect of being ravished by her master.
The man poked the head of his penis against her quivering opening, slight hip movements just threatening to penetrate her, but not quite.
"Tell your husband how badly you want me to fuck you."
Casey shut her eyes, ashamed of the words she knew she had to offer. "I want him to fuck me!" she offered to the room.
The man pushed her head to the side, making her stare at her husband, still standing against the wall, his penis slowly inching its way to a semi-erection with the spectacle. "Say, 'Dan, I need Hypno-natti’s hypnotic dick inside me.'"
"Honey!" she mustered. Pausing, unbelieving of her own abandon. "I need Hypno-natti’s hypnotic big dick inside me! I neeeed it!!"
With one sharp thrust, the man invaded her with the full length of his modest cock, and Casey cried out in surrender at the explosion of pleasure. He brought his face down to hers, leaning in as if to kiss her, his breath hot on her face, and slowly slid his dick out, his rock-hard shaft grinding against her achingly swollen G-spot. As she raised her lips to accommodate him, he pulled his face away teasingly and thrust himself violently into her again, eliciting another loud pre-orgasmic cry. For what seemed like an eternity, they kept up this erotic dance of desire and denial, his hands caressing her hair, the almost gentle play of his face so close to hers contrasting exquisitely with the force of his thrusts. Finally, he brought his lips to meet hers and kissed her deeply, the lustiness of his tongue's exploration telling her that he was just as aroused by her as she was by him. His cock driving into her more insistently now, faster, even deeper it seemed.
And she loved it - there was no use denying it to herself. The hypnotic power of his eyes, their entrancing gaze. Now the hypnotist was pulling her head back by her hair as he fucked her, running his tongue up and down her neck. Then unleashing her and licking her all over her face. Making her feel so owned. The pressure inside building now to unbearable intensity, the edge of orgasm too much to stand. "Oh... my... God!" she stammered.
The man now gripping the slats of the headboard as leverage to drive himself into her with as much force as he could. He wrapped his small ams around her, squeezing her to him, her tits pressed against his chest, making her feel what strength he had as he continued fucking her just as hard as he could. She wrapped her arms around her Master, wanting to feel him as much as possible.
“Cum for me now my pet and tell me that you now belong to me!” Hypno-natti grunted.
In a burst of mind-shattering pleasure, Casey felt every muscle in her body violently contract upon his words. Her nerves screamed in ecstasy. A long, wailing scream shaping the breath that rushed out of her lungs, forming finally into words..."
"OH GOD, I'M CUMMMMMIIIIIIING!!!!IIIIMMMM YOURRRRSSS!!!"
**********************************************
A week later…
“Hey guys! This is Casey. We are half way through February. I can almost smell the spring! Anyway, I want to tell you guys about something that I am soooo into right now. I’ve been totally improving myself through hypnosis. You guys might remember one of my earlier vlogs where I talked about a totally fun stage show I went to starring the Amazing Hypno-natti. Well, I’ve been working with him one on one on a ton of stuff and he is totally helping me with his incredible hypnosis skills. Dan too! So, swipe up to learn more about Hypno-natti. He has both sessions and videos available. And you can even find where you can try some of his unbelievable chamomile tea. Guys, it is sooo good! More vlogs coming this week, don’t forget to like and subscribe Luv you guys!!!” She concluded with a kiss of her fingers then the peace sign.
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The Day Avalor Won’t Forget- Eleteo Finale Fic
It’s finally here!!!! I cannot thank the EoA Discord enough for all the laughter and emotions shared after the Finale! Fan fic, art, and more were thrown and in the midst of it all a story began to unravel. Below is the culmination of the ideas of myself, Gus, Sushibelle, Halloweennut, and more who contributed to a silly head canon I had. Without you all, this story wouldn’t have happened and you all deserve equal credit. So without further, please enjoy! (P.S. It’s a long one!)
In the Kingdom of Avalor…
The laughter of children could be heard coming from the village square. Giggles of different tones and pitches were mixed about as soon applause joined them.
A small puppet show’s curtain fell and the puppeteer himself stepped out in front taking a bow.
“Armando! Tell another one!” A small child in the front said happily.
“Yes! Please?” came another pleading voice, followed by a chorus of agreeing voices urging the man on further.
The man, Armando, looked around at the crowd and then back at his lovely wife who motioned for him to continue with a large smile on her own face, saying she clearly wanted to see him continue as well.
With a half sigh, Armando smiled back at the crowd, “Alright then! One more story.” He said and moved towards the back of the puppet theater stage.
The children cheered and began to chatter amongst themselves as he prepared the next performance for them.
“What story do you think he’ll tell next?” Asked one of the older girls, braiding flowers into her long hair.
This made a younger girl next to her think. “Hmm, what if it’s about the Sunbirds?” She said, flapping her arms like wings.
“Shhhh! He’s about to start!” came another voice.
The crimson curtain began to rise and Armando’s voice rang out, “This is the story of a beautiful Queen and a powerful Wizard… The tale of a day no one in Avalor would soon forget...”
-
Queen Elena flopped herself onto the throne in the ballroom, her crown tilting forward slightly as she did so. It had been a tiring day filled with royal documents and decrees piling up slowly on her desk. This was the side of ruling she hadn’t been looking forward to at all. But she bore it all with as much motivation as she could knowing that she had a duty to her people she had only just begun!
Still… she could afford to take a little break and the quiet of the ballroom currently was quite relaxing to the new Queen, so much so that she began to close her eyes and breathe in deeply.
The large doors at the top of the stairs slamming open against the marble walls however ended any moment of rest she had begun to have.
Elena jumped alarmed, turning toward the stairs where her sister now scurried frantically down to her.
Princess Isabel looked disheveled and out of breath enough to concern her sister who stood up to meet her.
“Isa? What’s wrong!” She said, looking her over for anything off.
The princess groaned, cupping her cheeks, “Elena! I have a serious problem!” She stated.
“What is it? Are you alright? Did someone do something to you?” The Queen continued questioning, taking in her sister’s demeanor, and trying to find the source of her agony.
Isabel paused before mumbling, “Prince James… asked me to go on a… date with him…”
Elena got closer, “Prince James did what?” She asked, not fully understanding her little sister’s muttered words.
“Prince James… ASKED ME ON A DATE.” The little princess ended up yelling in frustration, ducking her face into her hands.
Elena was temporarily stunned. Her little sister had been asked on a date by a boy. She knew this day would come after all Isa was beautiful and smart! Isabel possessed so many amazing talents and traits that would surely one day wow someone in a different way… But she had no idea it would come so soon. She had seen them hit it off well at her Coronation and even dance, but an actual date?!
“Earth to Elena… Say something please?” Her sister said, peering out from her hands.
“Sorry Isa, you just caught me off guard there! Wow, so Prince James huh?” The Queen said now teasingly with a wink.
A groan from between hands confirmed that the teasing had worked. “Yes yes, now please I’m freaking out here. What do I do?” She said fully facing her sister.
“Isa, I’m flattered truly that you’d come to me with this, but why did you come to me for this kind of advice? Why not Abuela or even Naomi? Don’t you think they’d have a little more… expertise here?” Elena said, laying a hand on her shoulder.
Her sister looked at her confused, “What do you mean more expertise? I figured you’d know enough. I mean haven’t you and Mateo been seeing each other this whole time?” She dropped casually.
Elena didn’t know what she had been expecting as a response, but THAT definitely hadn’t been it. It was equivalent to the feeling of freezing water pouring over her.
“I-I… what?!” She sputtered out, eyes wide.
“You don’t have to be shy about it, we all saw you guys dance together at your Coronation. Plus you guys basically live together here at the palace. It’s not actually a secret.” Isabel said, waving her hands around her.
Elena still hadn’t moved an inch.
“Did I hear that we’re talking about Elena and Mateo?” popped a blonde head from the top of the stairs also.
Chancellor Naomi seemed almost giddy with excitement as she looked over at the two sisters.
“I-I..” Elena continued to stutter, not being to form any coherent thoughts.
“Oh come on Elena, it’s okay! You can totally let up on the secrecy. I think by now most of the Ever Realm has a pretty good idea of what’s going on between you to two.” Naomi said, causing Isabel to laugh a little.
Elena however still felt like she wasn’t even breathing.
“Um, Elena?” Asked Isabel a bit concerned when she realized her sister was still frozen in place.
Just then one of the palace maids came by with a bucket and mop, “For what it’s worth your Highness I must say I think you both make a wonderful pair. You remind me of me and my own husband when we were young.” She said kindly with a warm smile, before continuing with her tasks.
“W-We what?!” The Queen finally said.
“Wait… unless there isn’t something going on… or you just really didn’t know?” Naomi suddenly responded connecting the dots with Elena’s shocked behavior.
Inside the Queen’s mind was a jumble of emotions and thoughts threatening to flood her. Her dress wasn’t flashing different colors, but emotions flashed across her face just as clearly.
It wasn’t until the throne behind them began to tremble did the girls realize Elena was about to burst.
-
Across the hallway, an older woman carrying a basket overheard the topic of discussion from the opened doors of the throne room.
One Rafa de Alva couldn’t help but listen in when she heard her son’s name mentioned and boy was she happy she did! Her son and the Queen?! How wonderful!
Her steps became much more quick and joyful as she now moved with even more purpose to see her son.
-
“Mateo! It’s me, your Mami!” She called down into the Master Wizard’s secret library.
A thump and the dropping of something was heard before Mateo de Alva appeared.
“Mom! I didn’t know you’d be visiting… Wait how did you even get in?” He said looking up at his mother skeptically.
She smiled proudly back down to him, “That’s not important, what is that I brought you some of your favorite baked rolls!” She said holding up her woven basket.
“Oh, thanks! I’m in the middle of working on a potion, but if you want you can come down” He said sheepishly looking back over at his half-completed potion and books.
When he turned around Rafa had already made her way down the spiral stairs and was grinning ear to ear.
Mateo moved to give her a hug and take the basket from her, but her unusually extra bright smile was confusing him a bit.
“Um, thanks again Mami.” He said before turning back to his books, trying to ignore the strange vibes he was getting from his mother. Maybe she had just really missed him lately?
“You’re welcome mijo! Now, Mateo did you really think your own mother wouldn’t find out about what you’ve been up to in the palace?” She said leaning in close.
Now Mateo was really confused. What he had been up to in the palace? What did she mean? He’d been pretty busy since the Coronation brewing new potions and working alongside both the Royal Guard and Isabel to improve and incorporate their magical defenses further.Besides that he had taken on teaching the Delgados more magic as well. He really hadn’t had much time for leisure, so what could she be meaning?
“What do you mean?” He asked, turning around to gather a bottle of pure lavender extract.
Rafa laughed, “Why when the wedding is!” She stated simply.
Mateo stopped mid-pour.
“The...what?” He said slowly to comprehend what he was hearing.
“Oh, mijo you don’t have to be so shy with your mama! I’m so happy to hear the news! The Queen of Avalor and my son?! You’re growing up so quickly!” She said with a joyful tone.
It was at that moment that Mateo in his stunned brain fog ended up dumping the whole bottle of extract into the potion brew and the entire room erupted in a cloud of purple smoke. A small explosive sound could be heard from that side of the palace causing everyone nearby to stop what they were doing.
-
“Let’s go over this again so I fully understand… So you were on the way here when you heard Elena and Naomi talking about… me?” Mateo said as he was still trying to wipe the purple residue off his robes and process what his mother was telling him.
He couldn’t believe he had been so distracted he had caused a minor explosion. Luckily for his mother and him, it wasn’t anything serious beyond coloring them in purple powder. He had given several maids and royal guards a near heart attack however in the process…
“Yes! I even overheard one of the palace attendants mention that she thought you both were a lovely pair, even reminding her of the relationship with her husband. Isn’t that so sweet?” She said, clasping her hands with a dreamy tone.
Mateo couldn’t help but facepalm. This had to be a misunderstanding. Him and Elena? They were just very close friends… Sure they had been through a lot together and he thought she was the most amazing person in the world, but again they were just friends, even if Mateo sometimes wished they were more. Deep inside, he had a pretty good idea how he felt but he would always put Elena’s happiness and needs first, even if it meant above his own. This mentality had caused him to lock away his feelings for the better part of the past 3-4 years.
Having now cleaned up fully, Mateo put down the rag he had been using. “I’m going to go talk to Elena.” He announced.
Rafa beamed, blotches of purple still visible on her, “Oh of course! Can’t stay away from true love.”
Mateo instantly blushed hard, pulling at his robe collar, and walking toward the throne room.
-
“Alright Elena, let’s just calm down here.” Naomi said, backing away slowly from her friend.
“Yea! We were just teasing. I’m sure not the entire realm knows!” Isabel offered in support, also slowly backing away.
“What?!” She exclaimed as her throne began to shake and hover in the air.
Realizing that her flurry of emotions was causing a scene yet again, she instantly closed her eyes and began to recite, “Baby Jaquins. Abuela’s Chocolates,” and more things that made her happy and relaxed.
And yet even with all those lovely things in mind Elena still felt her breath quickening. Mateo and her?! Everyone knew apparently?! But they were just best friends?! ….Weren’t they though? The last time she had fully seen him had been her Coronation several days ago. When she had appointed him officially the Master Wizard and he had asked to be her first dance…
She felt herself gasp lightly. Was that a sign? Was there more meaning behind it? Yes, they had danced quite a bit together in the end… but he had been dancing with Carla too? They even look quite comfortable with each other…
Her heart clenched as this new thought came with a new emotion.
“Okay whatever you’re thinking about now, don’t!” Naomi yelled as she and Isabel observed the plants in the ballroom suddenly begin to grow violently in length, threatening to envelop the entire room they were in.
The plant vines quickly began to reach outside the open windows and through the connecting doors, spilling out to other areas. Those outside could suddenly see vines wrap themselves around the north palace tower and began to flee in horror, wondering what kind of magical mishap or creature had been unleashed now.
Elena could only watch on in horror, hands clasping her face.
“Oh no no no!” She said trying to fan herself to hopefully calm down a little.
Not even a full week into her reign as Queen and she had already lost control of her magic… again.
-
Mateo jumped backwards just in time as a large mass of green sprung into the hallway from the throne room.
“Woah!” He exclaimed, examining what he now realized was a plant vine moving further down the hall.
“Elena!” He yelled realizing the source of the vines was coming from the room his mother said she was last in.
The thought of her being in danger somehow motivated him to move and with a blasted spell, he made it through the nearly blocked doorway.
As he looked down into the room, he was surprised to find that the only ones in the room were Elena, Isabel, and Naomi; not a malvago or creature in sight. The vines were continuing to move around, but he also took note of the hovering throne and banners flying around in a magical mess. Isabel and Naomi seemed to be trying to seek cover, but Elena was found in the center, looking around rapidly in fear.
His eyes softened when he realized what was happening and he put his Tamborita away behind him.
Elena’s eyes continued to flash around until they settled on him.
“Mateo.” She simply said, some relief coming to her in seeing him.
The vines halted their growth and expansion and the throne, along with the banners, fell to the floor. He noticed this and smiled. He knew she could handle herself; he never doubted her. He was still glad to see that he had a calming effect on her nonetheless.
Little pitter pattering footsteps hopped behind him and soon the ever colorful Flo was standing in between the two friends.
“You guys are getting married?! Can I be the flower girl, please?!” She squealed happily.
Both Elena and Mateo found themselves stunned for another time again today. Caught with saucer-shaped eyes and mouths hung wide open, the room around them began to shake yet again.
“Oh no…” Isabel said from behind a pillar.
Mateo turned to see the movement resume before landing on Elena once more, just in time to see her flush a wild red and suddenly begin to tumble.
He rushed forward and caught the Queen, delicately holding her in alarm, her crown tumbling from her head and rolling to a stop in front of Flo.
No one in the room dared to move. Not even the vines.
“Sooo… Should I take that as a no?” Flo said innocently looking at Mateo and the Queen now laying in his arms.
-
“I can’t believe this all happened…” Elena said, flopping back onto her bed.
Mateo moved to sit next to her cautiously, fiddling with his hands. “I’m so sorry for my mom’s gossip…” he said, feeling so guilty that this ended with Elena even fainting and the palace covered in vines still.
She turned to look at him, “Oh Mateo, this isn’t your fault. Or your mother’s. Truth be told, what she did overhear technically happened…”
This caused Mateo to look at her strangely.
“Isa came to me for dating advice and she, well, she thought you and I… were a thing? And that’s where this whole mess started… Because I couldn’t handle my emotions and react properly. I’m sorry…” Elena admitted, sitting up against her pillows and avoiding eye contact in embarrassment.
Mateo felt the rose tint fill his cheeks again. So that’s where the rumor came from.
“I-It’s okay, really! You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It was all just a big misunderstanding.” He said, trying to contain his blush.
“Of course… just a misunderstanding…” He heard her mumble from beside him.
The almost disappointed tone in her voice caught his attention and despite his blushed appearance, he turned to her. Her face was lowered and she was staring at her hands. She seemed sad almost?
“Elena? It was just a misunderstanding right?” He asked carefully, not daring to insinuate something too deeply and risk their friendship. Afterall he had very firmly accepted his place in her life, as a best friend and trusted ally, and nothing more. He was content with that. Whatever made her happy, he would support her. He would be with her always.
Her honey eyes looked up at him finally, “You know, apparently Isa wasn’t the only one that thought that? Naomi and even some of the palace staff noted our… bond. The way we danced at the Coronation and how close we are on the daily, they just took it naturally as a sign of something more. Accepted it so easily and even celebrated it…”
He didn’t know what to say to all that. Was it really that obvious how deeply he cared for her to others? So much so that people didn’t even question it, but happily accepted it? And they thought it was mutual?
“Mateo… Was it just all just a misunderstanding?” She finally asked him in return, a curious look on her face.
Here it was. A moment. A door. She was asking him. Would he speak up? Would he finally pour out his feelings after years and risk their bond? Or would he deny them and keep their friendship where it was? He had spent moments wondering if he would ever get to this moment and what he would do when he did. Now it was actually here.
While she looked at him still cautiously and hadn’t moved closer to him, he swore he could note every single tiny detail about her in this moment. She looked so vulnerable. Her eyes wide and observing him. He loved her eyes; he could stare at them forever, even now. They were the eyes of his best friend and the one person in the world that he swore knew him more than anyone else. But they were also the eyes of the newly crowned Queen. They were the eyes of someone who had been through so much and deserved to be happy. Could he face those eyes with this reality? With his truth?
Could he really live a life without doing so?
He hesitantly reached out for her hand, Elena’s breath hitching.
“What if… what if it wasn’t fully? What if there was some truth?” He said, leaping into the unknown.
Elena’s face was reading a thousand emotions all at once when she whispered, “What was true…?”
“The truth is that while we might not ‘be a thing’, the thought might have crossed my mind once or twice… or more than that. The truth is that we do have an amazing bond and I-I treasure you dearly. Dancing with you at your Coronation was one of my favorite memories… I could have danced with you all night and more if you’d let me…” He finally confessed carefully, feeling a large weight fall off his shoulders and now the fear of her reaction sinking in.
“B-But what about Carla?” She suddenly asked, before covering her mouth embarrassed.
“Carla? Me and her made up. We’re friends now and yes we had a great time at your Coronation, but Elena it was you that I wanted to be by all night. But it was your day, you deserved to choose what made you happy. You were so joyful and carefree that night, I didn’t want to impose myself… I’ve always just wanted you to be happy.” He replied, clasping her hands gently to steady himself as the truths made themselves known.
She felt almost stupid for being jealous… Here he just shared his heart to her, like he had done many times before, but this time he was sharing it fully… With the fear of the unknown hanging around them.
What would she say now?
“But… but what if you also make me happy?” She tested saying out loud.
Mateo sat up straight as a rail. Had he heard that correctly?
“M-Me?!” He stuttered out in disbelief. His hazel green eyes looking at her with hope.
Her hands gripped his further, “Yes you, Mateo de Alva. You also make me happy. If I’m also honest, you make me very happy actually.”
He swore her own beautiful eyes were shining right through him. This was definitely a moment he knew he would never be able to forget for as long as he lived. He wanted to ingrain every single second of it to memory. He never thought this would actually happen, yet fate it seemed had other plans.
“So… where do we go from here?” He asked bashfully, leaning closer to her. He knew where he wanted it to go, but he would wait as long as she wanted if he had to.
Elena smirked, “Wherever we want to go querido.” Taking the plunge and addressing him with a term of endearment that she had heard her mother use for her father.
Mateo couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Well, I guess you’ll be able to give your sister some advice after all huh?” He said back, suddenly more confident and even flirty with her.
“Just shut up and kiss me.” The Queen said, pulling him even closer and closing her eyes.
“Whatever you wish for my Queen.” And soon the two were locked together, the day’s chaotic events fading around them, making way for the start of something truly magical.
-
“And so the Queen and her Wizard began their love story together that day. Their love not only fixed the magical vines, but bloomed an entire field of roses in the palace gardens. Their love still lives on strongly, for there is no greater magic than love, and the entire kingdom of Avalor knows this because of them.” The puppeteer said, having the puppets of Queen Elena and King Mateo join in a hug, surrounded by hearts, before the curtain fell down again. Marlena finished strumming the last notes of the love song she was accompanying the show with.
Loud applause filled both of their ears as the town’s children and some passersbys stood to their feet.
“Bravo! Bravo!” They said together and Armando couldn’t help but blush as he took his wife’s hand to bow together.
Looking over at Marlena’s smile, he couldn’t help but feel so blessed to have his own piece of a fairy tale as well.
-
“I love hearing that story! It’s so different getting to actually see it though right Joaquin?!” said one of the older girls in the back of the crowd.
Her large hazel eyes had a far off dreamy look to them as she played with the flowers in her wavy hair.
Her brother however looked nearly disgusted, “Ew! As if we didn’t have to already deal with mom and dad daily Alicia…” He said crossing his arms and rolling his amber eyes remembering his parent’s constant displays of affection throughout the palace and beyond.
She sighed, “I think it’s lovely. They are still so in love just like that day once upon a time ago...”
#fanficiton#Elena of Avalor#elena castillo flores#mateo de alva#eleteo#romance#comedy#fluff#finale fic#EOA#eoa spoilers
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Night and the City (1950)
I LOVE 70-year-old movies. What a romp this has been through post-war cinema and straight-up noir. This little tale, though lighter than the book, doesn’t skimp on the hard-luck trauma the main characters keep finding themselves in.
Richard Widmark stars as a grifter who thinks he has a chance at something big only no one will give him a loan to find out. His girlfriend is Gene Tierney but she knows enough to hide the money she earns working as a nightclub singer.
Then we’ve got two supporting characters that I was unfamiliar with until now and I absolutely fell in love with them. Googie Withers and Francis L. Sullivan. Why hadn’t I heard of these fantastic actors before? I really don’t know because they’ve both been in tons of stuff. Googie and Sullivan play husband and wife. Googie used to work for Sullivan in the nightclub but now she manages the girls who charge a dime a dance, et. al. Sullivan loves his wife, Googie does not reciprocate. Oh my goodness. That dynamic was wildly noir.
Widmark asks Sullivan for a loan and gets denied. He finds another way. I have to say there’s a whole wrestling subplot element with some father-son conflict that comes off really well. It could have been cheesy but the actors and the narrative get the job done letting you know what some men stand up for and others do not. So good. SO GOOD!
OK - then we have the director - Jules Dassin who, according to Darryl Zanuck, was making his last picture since he was being blacklisted. Dassin took the crew to London, scouted locations and actors and got the job done. Dassin said a couple of things about this movie that surprised me.
1. He really respected Richard Widmark. Jules Dassin thought he could direct Widmark as Hamlet. I personally don’t see it but I’m sure I have him typecast as a noir villain. He just does it so well.
2. Dassin cast Gene Tierney as the female lead because Darryl Zanuck suggested her. She was suicidal after a bad breakup and the studio head wanted to put her to work to help her through it. According to Dassin, it worked. She seemed to enjoy being on set and she is good in the film, albeit a minor character. She had to be cast as the lead because, well, Gene Tierney. The director was much impressed that Zanuck thought about how to help Gene and he was happy to oblige.
3. This movie shows Widmark running a lot. It starts out with him running and it ends with him running. Jules Dassin explained how he got the last shot in one take with 6 cameras. It’s pretty extraordinary and breathtaking. Really good filmmakIng.
4. One last thing the director said was that people accused him of copying The Asphalt Jungle which was released the same year (don’t worry - that blog is coming). Dassin hadn’t seen The Asphalt Jungle and only saw it when people started saying he copied it. It’s hard to say what led people to think that when I don’t see these two films alike at all. Other than they are both noir the two are quite different from each other.
Last shout out to the writer of the original novel, Gerald Kersh. He didn’t write much that made it to the screen but if you look up his books on Goodreads they have reviews of more than 4 stars. It could be his stuff was too raw for movies at that time, I’m not sure. But I added Night and the City to my Goodreads list so I will let you know - somehow - what I think.
#night and the city#noir#richard widmark#gene tierney#googie withers#francis sullivan#darryl zanuck#jules dassin#gerald kersh#1950#1950cinema#70-year-old-movies
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Could you do a oneshot where Vivi forces Jude and Taryn to wear revealing outfits and Madoc decides he’s joining them. This is an after QON Headcanon. Of an overprotective daddy Madoc giving dead glares to anyone to anyone who approaches his twin daughters
I know it’s been a few days but I promise I didn’t forget! Also imma just warn you here and now this is CURSED. (Also I just realized you said headcanon. I wrote it as a fic I hope that’s ok)
~~~~~
Daddy Daughter Dance
Three years of exile and the unwavering support of his wife had hardly softened Madoc to the mortal world. He found mortals to be dirty and unstable, far too lowly to interact with his family.
Vivienne Duarte thought it was absolutely hilarious and, while she might not always agree with what her sister does, she thought that banishing Madoc had been some of Jude finest work. She couldn’t have thought of a better way to pull the rug out from under her faerie father’s feet, and it filled her with pride at how masterfully her sister had dealt with dear old dad.
Still, having her father perpetually around was starting to annoy Vivi. He got bored and decided that the best thing to do would always be to go knocking on his eldest daughter’s door, asking her what was up and how she was doing. She was starting to go insane, and she desperately needed an out.
Then, as she was sitting at the dinner table during one of Madoc’s forced family meals, when Taryn longingly mentioned wanting a night off from the baby, she had a spark of an idea.
Taryn had showed up with Ghost and her toddler, a darling little girl named Ellanora. Jude had finally relented and agreed to come along for supper, Cardan naturally right behind her. Heather was being her absurdly supportive self, Oak had finally reached the point of his life where he was prone to teenage mood swings and he was hiding in his room, Oriana looked like she was fraying at the edges.
“Ladies,” she brightly began, her wicked smile spreading from ear to ear, “I believe it has been far too long since we had a night out on the town!”
“We’ve never had a night out on the town,” Jude pointed out, a brow raised at the ton her sister was taking.
“Then surely it’s been too long!” Vivi shot back, standing up from her chair so quickly that it shot out behind her and slammed into the wall. “Come now, Jude. You know that you and Taryn won’t be able to visit forever! Why not take a night off and celebrate the joys of the mortal world with your loving family?”
Heather hid her laughter by taking a sip of her water. She’d seen this look on Vivi’s face before and she just knew that chaos was waiting in the wings.
Taryn, bouncing her child on her leg, looked over to Ghost. They’d married about six months prior and they were still in the lovey-dovey-heart-eyed stage of love. “I would love to, Vivienne, but Ellanora needs to—“
“Surely Ellanora’s daddy can watch her? This is a girl’s night, after all,” she grinned. “No Cardan, Garret, Madoc, or Oak allowed!”
Jude scowled and Cardan pouted, Taryn blanched and Ghost quirked his head, Oriana pursed her lips and Madoc went thunderous.
Oh this was going to be perfect.
���I don’t think—“
“Oh Jude, come on! You and Taryn won’t be able to hang out with us forever, let loose tonight and have some fun! You already left Elfhame,” Heather swooped in and Vivi could get on one knee and propose right there.
Vivienne gave no chance for anyone else to complain, standing with a sense of finality and moving towards Oriana’s walk-in closet. Oriana was always dressed for a night out and she and Heather both looked bangin’, but Taryn was dressed like a tired mom and Jude was still wearing her practice leathers.
Heather must have been working magic back in the dining room, because by the time she’d picked out outfits for the twins, both were standing behind her. Taryn appeared to be bouncing with excitement, desperate for a night away from the baby. Jude looked perturbed, as she typically was when she was separated from Cardan.
Neither woman complained as they stripped and dressed. Taryn had always loved her fashion and Jude had really come into her own in the past few years, her husband’s doting doing wonders for her confidence.
Still, as they looked in the mirror in Oriana’s closet, Jude raised a brow at her older sister.
Taryn was wearing a high waisted skirt and low-cut shirt combo, heels stolen from Oriana making her calves look gorgeous and her ass pop. Jude was in a slinky dress, just barely hitting her thigh with the back falling open down her spine.
If Jude were a betting woman, she’d say Vivi was trying to make their father have a heart attack.
As they walked out of the closet and towards the front door, they ran into Heather and Oriana, both smiling knowingly. Just as they were about to leave, Madoc walked into the living room.
And his jaw hit the floor.
Of course he was used to the faerie brand of risqué clothing, but mortal clothes are a far cry different. They’re abrasive, choppy, far too high cut and low quality. What the fuck did Vivi think she was doing?
“Bye dad! We’re going to Bare Assets!”
Then the girls were out the door. Off to the closest night club they could get to. Bare Assets was a local strip club with both male and female strippers, a fantastic bar, and a separate dance floor that Vivi and Heather frequented when they wanted to act out.
“What’s Bare Assets?” Madoc screamed back into the dining room, scaring Ghost and Cardan—who had been cooing over Ellanora and trying to get her to eat her broccoli.
“The strip club where Jude and I had our joint bachelor and bachelorette party a few years back,” Cardan nonchalantly offered, almost immediately catching his slip up and clamping his mouth shut.
Unfortunately, Ghost, who was thoroughly distracted by his adopted daughter, didn’t catch the way Madoc’s eyebrow was twitching. “I remember that night! I got on the pole and some random stripper licked my nipples.”
“I don’t think you should say that in front of your kid—“ Cardan started.
“Nipples!” Ellanora, who had recently started imitating words she heard adults say, interrupted. Cardan hid his laughter with a cough; let Ghost explain to Taryn why his daughter was yelling about nipples.
Then, as the front door slammed shut, both men looked back up. Madoc was gone.
They shared a look and (wisely) decided to stay with Ellanora.
Vivi had been banking on Madoc following them, just like she’d been banking on him getting lost long enough to give them time to do a shot or two each. This was a woman who had nearly two decades put into annoying her father: she was an absolute expert.
They were dancing when she heard a scream by the front door and she started grinning like a madwoman. In the back, where the DJ was blasting dubstep and the dance floor was a living thing, she knew they had a few minutes left before Madoc would be able to fight his way through the strippers and past the bar.
Oriana was busy learning how to do the robot from Heather while Taryn and Jude jumped around to the best of the music. It made Vivi happy how the twins had reconciled over the past few years. It was nice seeing them get along in ways they never really had before.
When a hand clapped on her shoulder, she wasn’t surprised at all. She turned with a wicked grin and cane face-to-chest with her furious father. She was just about to say something snarky when her father bellowed, his voice vastly overpowering the music.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST PUT IN MY DAUGHTER’S DRINK?”
Vivi sounds around, her eyes catching on the plastic cup in Taryn’s hand that she’d previously missed. Just beyond the drink was a man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, a small plastic bag held in his shaking hand.
Taryn looked down at her drink and realized this stranger had been trying to drug her and absolutely no one had noticed. The environment must’ve been too loud and unfamiliar for Jude to see, Oriana would’ve never noticed, Vivi was too far away.
Her lip curled in disgust and she threw the contents of her roofied drink all over her would-be drugger, grabbing her twin to keep her from gutting the bastard and moving over to where Madoc was fuming.
Vivi was shaking and Heather was trying to explain what just happened to a very confused Oriana. Jude was quickly checking all the exits and making mental notes of everyone’s face, the nightclub now a battleground.
“How dare you?” Madoc spin Vivienne back around as he roared. “How could you put your sisters at risk? You know how dangerous it is for them!”
Vivienne hadn’t even thought, she’d been so busy trying to irk her father that she hadn’t even considered Jude and Taryn weren’t raised here, they wouldn’t know to cover their drinks. The mortal world would be just as dangerous for them, only in different ways.
Madoc went to scream some more at his eldest daughter, but Taryn stopped him with a gentle hand to his wrist. She was always the best at getting him to smile and calm down.
“It’s okay, dad. We’re safe, it wasn’t Vivi’s fault.”
She goes to say something else, but a bouncer works his way through the crowd before she can, thanking Madoc for his help and telling him they’d caught the man and kicked him out. When the bouncer offers to let Madoc drink on the house, Taryn pipes up and accepts for him.
“Taryn I don’t think—“
“Oh come on, dad! You can’t spend your whole life hating everything mortal,” she announced as she rolled her eyes. “Let us help acclimate you while we still can.”
“With you and Jude glowering at everyone, we won’t have to worry about anyone bothering us,” Oriana observes with a small smile as she walks over to her husband’s other side.
Before Madoc can say anything else, he has some terrible cocktail in his hand and he’s surrounded by all the women in his life as they do the robot. (Jude would’ve preferred to keep bouncing up and down, but Oriana was insistent.)
So Madoc spends the rest of the night drinking and eventually dancing in a den of mortals, watching over his daughters and glaring menacingly at anyone who even thinks about looking at them. Oriana started stealing his drinks and Heather and Vivi disappeared into the bathroom, Jude and Taryn watched in fascination as a stripper insisted on teaching Madoc to twerk, and none of them had to worry about checking their drinks again.
~~~~~~
Am I sorry about writing a fic where Madoc twerks? Yes. Also I specified the strip club because ya bitch is writing a bachelor/bachelorette party fic at the strip club and yes Ghost gets his nipples licked by a stripper I’m also sorry about that one.
Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @andromeddea @jurdanhell @thesirenwashere @sweetlyvillainous @clouds-and-peonies @clockworkgraystairs
#cardan greenbriar#jude duarte#tfota#taryn duarte#vivienne duarte#oriana#madoc#the ghost#heather#tfota fic#tyrannosaurus lex answers#tyrannosaurus lex writes#im sorry this is like the most cursed thing ive ever written
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Colin Bridgerton Love Story
Georgia and Colin is a new story about a plus sized biracial girl who falls in love with Colin Bridgerton. Written for @theshyprincess and this is only chapter 1! I will be posting more, the frequency depends on the reaction this first bit gets
Chapter 1: The Promenade
Words: 1298
Georgia Devonshire had spent the majority of her life unloved. As an only child, all of her family’s fortunes were up to her. With her father always busy with work, she was left to the devices of her mother. Lady Devonshire was a beautiful woman. Her skin was almost porcelain white, with jet black hair and blue eyes. She relished in her beauty and was so excited when little Georgia came out as a perfect mix between her and her husband. The blue eyes were striking against her darker skin, and the black hair had the texture of her father’s. It only took a year and a half for Georgia to start gaining what was seen as unseemly weight. Lady Devonshire refused to pick up such a heavy baby and tried many times to get the staff to feed her less. Alas, no matter what she did, Georgia was heavy set. It broke her heart. This resulted in a childhood full of withheld meals, direct and indirect insults, and the assumption that no man would ever marry her for love or attraction.
In the summer after Georgia’s sixteenth birthday, she was preparing to come out. Both she and her mother were full of dread at the prospect, but there was nothing else to be done. Lady Devonshire had been unable to produce any more children, much to the dismay of her Lord, and so all of her eggs were in this basket. She did not hold out much hope. There was, however, a sliver of hope which still existed in Georgia’s heart. Despite the lack of attention she’d received, she still held onto her dream of walking into her first ball and getting swept off her feet by a handsome suitor. At her first ball, she was sorely disappointed. She watched from the sidelines as almost every single other young lady got asked to dance. Their dresses twirled so prettily, and laughter rang out. Some of it was probably exaggerated, but Georgia didn’t care. Even if she was going to be miserable and pretending to be happy on the dance floor, that would be better than not being a part of the fray at all. Two balls later, Georgia began to think she would never get the opportunity to pretend to laugh at the joke of a suitor. She would die old and alone, a disgrace to her family. The thought was almost too much to bear. She left that ball early, with a tutting mother in tow. Most of the season passed uneventfully for her. One by one, the girls she would talk to at events got engaged, leaving Georgia alone to wonder about her future. Of course, she was happy for the other girls, but she was also jealous. Every time someone proposed, it was one less eligible man out there. Not that Georgia really thought any of those men would be interested in her. She wasn’t holding out hope but giving up wasn’t an option. Even if she knew without a doubt that her efforts would be fruitless, she had to try. For her parents, because in their eyes this was her only purpose. This was her one chance to redeem how disappointing she’d been her entire life. She had to try for herself, because this was her chance to get out. To possibly be appreciated for her skills and personality which her parents continually ignored. Most people did, in fact. It was as if her fat was some kind of shield, and it prevented people from actually seeing her at all. Despite her beauty, people’s eyes always glossed right over her. Bigger was most certainly not better, and no one in the ton seemed keen to let her forget that. So, at a late season picnic, Georgia was quite surprised when a young man kept glancing her way. She promenaded with her only friend who was still single, Cora. She thought him much too attractive to be paying her any mind. “Is it my imagination, or is that young man looking at me?” Georgia asked. Cora followed her gaze and gasped in excitement. “That young man is Colin Bridgerton, and he most certainly is looking at you!” Georgia’s breath escaped her when she heard his name. Everyone knew of the Bridgertons, of course, but Georgia hadn’t met them. Her family’s social status wasn’t quite high enough to interact with Bridgertons. She’d seen him at a couple of balls during the summer but hadn’t known his name. While most of the other girls memorized names and faces of gentlemen, Georgia had chosen to focus on bettering herself. If she couldn’t be attractive, she would become the best mother there was. A good wife, too, if any man would allow her the opportunity. The best she’d hoped for was an older gentleman without other prospects who would give her children. But Colin could give her so much more. He looked away, and Georgia’s hope fell just as quickly as his gaze. “I’m sure he was looking at you, Cora,” Georgia said, her voice as plain and unemotional as she could manage to make it. “You’re so beautiful. You’ve had two proposals already.” Cara blushed and said, “Not from the one that matters.” She looked across the vast lawn toward a group of men. She’d been in love with the same man since she was a young girl, Elliot Abberton. The two of them had long been friends, but he didn’t seem to see that she wanted more. It frustrated Cara to no end, and consequently Georgia as well, having to hear about it so often. “He’ll come around someday, Cara,” Georgia reassured her, and she believed it. Cara was kind and beautiful and loved him with her whole heart. If Georgia herself couldn’t have a happy ending, she found comfort in knowing her friend would. She would simply have to. “I think we should walk over by the Bridgerton boys,” Cara suggested, already steering them in that direction. “We cannot!” Georgia protested. But she was being pulled along, and as they got closer it became more apparent that Colin was indeed looking at her. She was convinced it couldn’t possibly be because he found her attractive. She was just too large to be considered seriously romantically, or so everyone had always said. He strolled a bit away from his family’s tent to be closer to the path, a bounce to his step. Colin was a mixture of boyish charm and impassioned intent as he walked. It was all Georgia could do to not gasp when she saw him up close. He was beautiful. A warm and inviting smile, a sparkle in his brown eyes, and hair she wanted to run her fingers through. She shook those thoughts out of her head. “I must have an introduction,” He proclaimed when they reached each other. “Oh, you must?” Georgia asked him with just a hint of attitude. Cara nudged her but Colin just laughed. “My name is Colin Bridgerton. I would be delighted to find out yours.” His smile became a bit shy, but he didn’t back down. He waited expectantly for Georgia to make her way out of shock and respond to him. That didn’t happen. It was Cara who said, “This is Miss Georgia Devonshire.” Hearing her name snapped her back to reality and she gave a small curtsy. Colin quickly returned it with a bow. “A pleasure, Miss Devonshire,” he said, taking her hand to kiss. She blushed as he did so, and then his mother was calling him away, and he bounded back to his tent. After this encounter, Georgia couldn’t sleep for days. She wandered about her house with her head firmly in the clouds, replaying the brief conversation over and over again.
#colin bridgerton#bridgerton#chapter one#fanfic#kenzie writes#biracial#plus size#big girl love#romance
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My Top 10 Favorite Songs of All Time - 2006 Edition
2021 Editor’s Note: I was looking through some old files and found this thing that I wrote sometime in the summer of 2006 at age 22. For all I know, it could’ve been 15 years to the day! Looking back, I’m not sure how many of these songs would still make my top 10. Don’t get me wrong, I still love all of these tunes, but I’m sure you know how it goes - You get older, you get exposed to more things, and your idea of good music expands. Anyway, I thought it might be nice to share with anyone who still uses this site. I present it in its original format without edits to my writing. I ended up writing full posts in this blog about some of these songs if you go through the archive.
Stu’s Top 10 Favorite Songs…Ever
Let’s start with some honorable mentions. These were so close, and I thought about it for so long, but they had to be left off.
Honorable Mentions
All Summer Long – The Beach Boys
All Summer Long. 1964. Capitol
This song has been described so many times as being “the perfect summer song.” When you listen to it, you can’t help but smile from the opening marimba intro, all the way through. It just screams “summer” and it hurt me to leave The Beach Boys off my top 10.
Bleed American – Jimmy Eat World
Bleed American. 2001. Grand Royal
So full of energy, so rocking, and so what would’ve been the most recent song on my list. I wanted to keep it in the top 10 just so I could have a song from the ‘00s, but it wasn’t meant to be. When the chorus kicks in, I can’t help but headbang.
Marie – Randy Newman
Good Old Boys. 1974. Reprise
Randy has said that a lot of young composers pick “Marie” as their favorite Newman song, and I can see why. The idea of a guy having to be drunk to tell his wife that he loves her is pretty funny, and throughout the whole song it’s just the beautiful melody with tons of strings, all to a tune about a guy ripping on himself as he comes home drunk to his wife.
Does He Love You? – Rilo Kiley
More Adventurous. 2004. Brute/Beaute
I guess this is newer than Bleed American, so it would’ve worked too. This is another more recent song that it killed me to leave off the list. The outro is an arrangement of the main tune with a different chord progression performed by a string quartet. Very beautiful. Also when Jenny Lewis screams “Your husband will never leave you, he will never leave you for me,” I get chills every time.
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So here it is. After a long day’s work, I’m finally finished. It actually turned out much different than I was thinking when I first started. The number one wasn’t really even in my top five when I started, but I slowly realized I loved it so much. I also left Ben Folds (Five) off this list completely, and I don’t know, I just feel the whole catalogue of Ben is so solid, none of the songs stick out to me that much. But anyways, here it is! After the break of course…
Stu’s Top 10
10.
(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave – Martha and the Vandellas
Heat Wave. 1963. Motown.
This one beat out “Bleed American” just barely. The reason being that somehow, despite being nearly 40 years older than Bleed American, it still has so much energy that it kills. Dan Bukvich once told our Jazz Arranging class that you can boil all the oldies you hear on the radio down to three categories: 1) Great Song. 2) Great Performance. 3) Great Arrangement. This song is one of the great performances. The handclaps throughout, combined with the driving baritone sax behind everything and constant snare drum action will keep anybody with blood running through their veins dancing all night long.
9.
Bodhisattva – Steely Dan
Countdown to Ecstasy. 1973. MCA
This song is my Freebird. It’s just a basic blues progression song at its core with some minor changes at the end of the form. The real kicker that drives this song home is the three minute guitar solo in the middle that isn’t nearly as rocking as Freebird, but it is highly proficient and takes me to places that just make me want to play the song over and over again. I have no idea what this song is about, probably Buddhism, but hey, this once again proves that lyrics rarely matter and the music itself is the core.
8.
Zanzibar – Billy Joel
52nd Street. 1978. Columbia
This song reminds me of long car rides on vacations down the west coast with my parents growing up. They used to play a tape of 52nd Street, or at least their favorite selections, constantly on these trips. I didn’t hear this song again until early in my senior year in college and remembered why I loved it so much. The song has a heavy jazz influence, displayed in the breakdown where Jazz trumpeter Freddie Hubbard does a solo. The best part of this song though is at the end of the 4th line of each verse, Billy does this “Woah oh oh!” thing that just makes me want to sing every time. It was between this and “Miami 2017 (Lights Go Out On Broadway)” which is also a great song, but the “Woah oh oh!” is too much for ol’ Stu boy.
7.
Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) – Bruce Springsteen
The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle. 1973. Columbia
Early Bruce Springsteen records have something that very few other artists can ever pull off without sounding cheesy or forced. It has this undeniable sense of urgency, like the world will fall apart and life will crumble through your fingers if this one moment in time doesn’t work out the way Bruce describes it. There are so many early Springsteen songs that just set a scene of “We have to get out of this town right now girl before it kills us, no matter what any of our parents, friends, anybody has to say.” There’s a line that kinda sums it up: “Well hold on tight, stay up all night ‘cause Rosie I’m comin’ on strong. By the time we meet the morning light, I will hold you in my arms. I know a pretty little place in southern California down San Diego way. There’s a little café where they play guitars all night and all day. You can hear ‘em in the back room strummin’, so hold tight baby ‘cause don’t you know daddy’s comin’.”
6.
I’ve Got You Under My Skin – Frank Sinatra
Songs For Swingin’ Lovers! 1956. Capitol
This song falls into the category of great arrangement. This Cole Porter classic tune was arranged for Sinatra by Nelson Riddle. The story goes that he was still copying down parts for the players while riding in the cab to the recording studio on the day of recording. After the players ran through it once with Frank, they stood up and applauded. The Baritone sax takes control here, outlining a Db6/9 chord throughout the intro. Of course, Frank’s vocal delivery is spot on and goes up and down in all the right places for the biggest emotion impact. It’s amazing how a song with no real chorus can be so good.
5.
A Change Is Gonna Come – Sam Cooke
Ain’t That Good News. 1964. RCA Victor
This song was not even going to be on this list, but then I ran across it while scouring my collection of music and remembered how good it was. Then I listened to it and was blown away by the level of detail that went into this arrangement. Sam’s vocals soar above the mind blowingly beautiful arrangement. The lyrics to this one actually add to the tune itself, speaking of wrongdoings in the world around him, and how social change is on its way in the form of the civil rights movement. The song flows with such ease out of Cooke that one might forget the weightiness of the content, but the song’s content is just so heavy that it’s impossible to deny it.
4.
Whatever – Oasis
Whatever EP. 1994. Creation
This song was released as a Christmas present to the U.K. from the Gallagher brothers and company. It never appeared on any full album, only being released as a single, and amazingly, it blows away anything else they’ve ever done. Think “All You Need Is Love,” but with tons of rocking energy and a snide, nonchalant attitude. The chorus speaks, “I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I choose and I’ll sing the blues if I want. I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I like, if it’s wrong or right, it’s alright.” Not exactly poetry, and the song isn’t exactly breaking any new ground either, but the song is absolutely perfect in every way, and it was going to be my #1, but perhaps the only reason it’s not at number one is because I’ve played this song so many times that at the moment, these next three are beating it, but who knows how I’ll feel in a few months. This song also pulls the same “outro performed by a string quartet” thing as “Does He Love You?” but even better. It’s so simple, but I can’t get enough of it.
3.
Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra
Out of the Blue. 1977. Jet
This is obviously the best Beatles song that the Beatles never wrote. The staccato guitar during the verse combined with the strings present in just about every ELO song combine to make a force that is undeniably catchy and musically challenging at the same time. This is really what makes ELO so good. I didn’t discover this song till probably Nov. 2005, and it was one of the best days of my life. I didn’t want to include two songs by the same artist in my top 10, but if I did, I probably would’ve added “Turn To Stone” on this list too because it is almost as awesome as this one. It’s a shame that just like Billy Joel, most critics at the time hated ELO for being overly creative musically (they called it pretentiousness). These days we have acts that really are pretentious (see Radiohead), but everyone loves them, even critics. I’m not knocking all Radiohead, just most everything post OK Computer. Sorry, got a little sidetracked there.
2.
Only In Dreams – Weezer
Weezer. 1994. Geffen
This has been my favorite Weezer song since about a month into me picking up Weezer’s debut album back around early 2000. It has this ostinato (a repeated motif over and over again) in the bass throughout most of the whole song, never even really resolving to the Gb major chord (excluding chorus, which never really resolves) that it wants to until the end of a 3 minute contrapuntal guitar duet when everything dies out except the bass which just retards on its own until it finally plays the single Gb we’ve all been waiting for. The song on the whole up until the guitar duet is pretty tame, but once those contrapuntal guitar lines start intertwining, my ears perk up every time. I can sing both lines at separate times upon request and when the drums finally kick back in fully at the climax of the song, I let out a sigh of relief or bang on my car wheel in exultant joy, whichever is more of an option at the time.
1.
All Is Forgiven – Jellyfish
Spilt Milk. 1993. Charisma
I always loved this song from the first time I heard it, but I didn’t realize how much I loved it until maybe April 2006. I found out about Jellyfish first semester of college in the Fall of ’02 and heard this song, and knew it was great. The constant tom-tom driven drums, the fuzzy, almost white noise distorted guitar, and the half time bass throughout. It was great. Then in April I put it on my mp3 player for the walk to school, and then I listened to it for about two weeks straight. Seriously. It runs into the next song entitled “Russian Hill” which is almost as good, but because it’s a separate song, I couldn’t include it on the list, but in my mind, they always run together and are basically one long 9 minute song. The ending just gets more and more white noise filled until you can barely take it anymore and then it just cuts off completely into the slow acoustic intro for Russian Hill. It’s perfect in every way. I think this would fall into the category of great song. And the way the song builds up right to the middle of the song and then cuts out completely except for some very VERY faint xylophone noodling, and then busts back in with some feedback directly into guitar solo. Man I love this song.
#2006#Me#All Summer Long#The Beach Boys#Bleed American#Jimmy Eat World#Marie#Randy Newman#Does He Love You#Rilo Kiley#(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave#Martha and the Vandellas#Bodhisattva#Steely Dan#Zanzibar#Billy Joel#Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)#Bruce Springsteen#I've Got You Under My Skin#Frank Sinatra#A Change Is Gonna Come#Sam Cooke#Whatever#Oasis#Mr. Blue Sky#Electric Light Orchestra#ELO#Only In Dreams#Weezer#All Is Forgiven
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‘I do’ under the stars - Present Day!Brian May x Danish!reader
This was actually happening. You were actually going to marry the man you loved. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, still finding it hard to believe you were wearing your wedding dress.
"Y/N?" You heard Roger's voice after a short knock on the bedroom door.
"Go away, Roger," Sarina sighed as she got up from the chair she was sat in and opened the door a peak. "We're not read-"
"I know that, love, I just-" Roger let out a heavy sigh, "It's Brian,"
Your eyes widened as you heart tightened hearing those words. You spun around and marched barefoot over to the door, pulling it open. "What's wrong, Roger? Is he okay? Is it his-"
Roger shook his head, smiling as he looked you over. Beautiful. "No, love, he's okay... He just, he wanted to have a word."
You let out a relieved sigh, "I'll kill him," You smiled softly, "Where is he?"
Roger rolled his eyes. "That's the thing, I haven't a clue. He just said, tell Y/N/N I need to have a quick word, and then he buggered off." Roger huffed as he folded his arms across his chest, clearly stressing out.
You shook your head smiling, "Don't worry, Rog, I know where he is." You pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Y/N, your shoes!" Sarina turned around to grab them for you but you had already left.
You weren't going far. You climbed the flight of stairs and crossed the landing until you came to a large wooden door and opened it. You began grinning to yourself as you looked up into the darkness at the top of another set of stairs.
"Brian? You know we're not meant to see each other." You smiled, slowly walking up.
You heard Brian chuckle as he approached the top of the staircase. "I'm a bit old to believe all that nonsense, don't you think." He held his hand out for you. "You look beautiful, my love." He pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss.
"What's wrong, Brian? Are you having second thoughts?"
He shook his head, and began guiding you over to the large telescope that was set up. "Of course not, love. I just wanted to show you something before we said 'I do'." He grinned.
You raised your eyebrow, "Brian, what could you possibly have to show me?"
Brian nodded to the telescope. "Just look,"
You let out a small scoff but looked anyway. "How many times have you had me look through this thing? I think I've seen--Oh my God!" You pulled back and looked up at Brian. "Is that a,"
"Comet?" You nodded, "It is. I remembered you saying, you'd never seen one so," He smiled as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"Wait," You turned around in Brian's arms, "Bri, is this why you insisted we get married at this time?" You grinned up at him.
Roger had joked about Brian being a science geek when he suggested that the two of you got married under the stairs. Having your special day in the comfort of your home, away from prying eyes as you committed your love to one another. You thought it was a rather romantic idea.
Brian's cheeks began to blush as he nodded, "Hmm, yes. I heard along the grape vine that, you'd be able to see the comet tonight so-"
You pressed your lips against his in a loving kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as Brian held you close to his body, kissing you back with just as much love.
"Excuse me!" Roger called out from the top of the stairs, glaring at the two of you.
You looked over Brian's shoulder with bashful smile, trying to laugh as his red cheeks hid behind his beard. "Sorry, Rog," You smiled at him.
He held his hands up, "Whatever. It's not like you've got a ton of guests waiting or anything. I swear, if you ask me to be your best man again, I'm saying no, having me running around. I'm too old for this shit." Roger huffed as he turned around and made his way back down.
You hid your face in Brian's chest as the pair of you shared a laugh as Roger continued to moan as he walked away.
"We should probably get to our wedding." Brian whispered.
You nodded, lifting your head so you could look at Brian. "I can't wait to be, Mrs May." You smiled loving up at him.
Brian grinned, "C'mon, before Roger has a stroke or something." He chuckled taking your hand in his.
----------
-Flash back-5 years ago-
You let out a heavy sigh as you tapped your pen against the table. The black printed letters on the page were starting to jumble together, but you had to study. Why you thought getting a summer job as a personal assistant for a band was a good idea, you'll never know. But here you are at midnight, in the hotel restaurant trying to figure out how to stop cats from pooing in a plant pot.
"Ugh!" You groaned and dropped your head onto the table in front of you. You were glad there wasn't many people down in the restaurant at this time.
"I thought I'd find you down here," Brian spoke softly as he walked towards you putting a smile on your face. "What have we said about staying up past midnight?" He teased, sitting down opposite you.
You smiled, "Just because you're an OAP."
Brian chuckled, pulling your text book across to him. "Cheeky." He smiled before closing it. "Why are you our personal assistant if this, is what you want to do?" He said as he tapped your text book on Clinical Animal Behaviour.
"Needed a job," You shrugged with a cheeky grin, "When I go back to school, it's going to be all work, and this seemed like a once in a life time opportunity." You smiled at him.
Brian hummed, "Still makes no sense. It's not exactly the most idle place to study, on the road, fetching and carrying, and looking after us old codgers." You laughed at him, shaking your head as you began to put your things away. "Wouldn't you rather, go home to Denmark and see your parents?"
You let out a soft sigh, "As much as I miss them, Bri, I spent all my life with them. I want to take this time to, be me." You shrugged. "Does that sound selfish?"
Brian shook his head, reaching over to pat your hand. "Not at all, love. Some times you've got to think of yourself before others." He smiled, "Right, I think it's bed time, young lady."
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Whatever you say, old man."
----------
-Present Day-
"I do," You smiled teary eyed up at Brian as the two of you held hands as you stared lovingly at one another, your friends and family watching as you shared your vows.
"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." The vicar announced you man and wife, and in front of your loved ones, you shared your first kiss as husband and wife.
As Brian held you in his arms and kissed you with such passion and love, the memories the two of you had shared over the last five years span through your mind.
Even though there was an obvious age gap between the pair of you, I mean you were a lot closer to 30 than Brian was, it didn't seem to matter so much. There was times where it was apparent, like when Brian had found himself having some health issues. The heart attack really knocked you for ten, but in true Brian fashion he bounced back after some time to recover, more loving and caring than ever.
He was always willing to learn something new, and so the two of you had visited your parents in Denmark and you'd tried to teach him as much as you possibly could about your home.
At first your parents were more than shocked when you told them who you were dating. You had the whole 'he's too old', 'he's taking advantage of you', ‘you can't see a future with him', blah, blah, blah. But once they actually met him, after a lot of arm twisting that is, they saw the man you did. Not just a famous rock star who they thought was just having his way with you because you were a pretty young thing, but a man that saw you as a smart and bright woman who was capable of great things.
Of course your romance wasn't always so easy, what with the media sticking their nose in, and the fans having their own opinion. It was because of this that you and Brian took so long to admit how you felt about one another. There was a lot of longing looks, and lingering touches on both parts. It took Adam and his drunken big mouth to drop you in it for Brian to work up the courage to ask you out.
-Flash back-4 & half years ago-
As much as he hated being in a loud night club, barely understanding what was being played over the speakers, Brian happily sat in a big comfy chair along with Roger and Adam as you and Sarina danced with one another. Although he was doing it out of habit, he was watching you, a fond smile on his face as he watched you laugh and have the time of your life.
Roger rolled his eyes with a scoff, "He's like a bloody teenager." He chuckled pointing over to where Brian was, paying him nor Adam any attention. "Oy!" Roger threw a balled up napkin towards Brian, laughing when Brian jumped.
"Piss off!" Brian glared at him.
Roger rolled his eyes again, "Sorry, mate, have I distracted you from your perving?" He teased.
Brian blushed once again telling him to piss off. "I'm not perving."
Adam nodded laughing, "Don't worry, Bri, Y/N's just as bad."
Brian's brow creased and he turned in his seat so he was facing the younger man. "What on Earth are you talking about?"
"Are you serious, right now?" He huffed, "You really must be blind if you don't see the lady boner she gets whenever she's near you."
Brian shook his head as he looked to Roger. "Lady boner?" He asked looking confused.
Roger burst out laughing, almost dropping his drink on himself. "Oh, fuck." He quickly put his drink down still laughing. "Oh, God... He means, she's got the hots for you, Bri."
Brian's eyes widened. "Y/N?"
"Oh, yeah," Adam nodded, "She's even had a couple of saucy dreams about you, Bri."
Roger's head snapped to him."Has she?"
Adam "Oh, Dr. May, fuck me with your-" Adam stopped his terrible impression of you as you came to a stop in front of him, unimpressed to hear him exaggerate what you had told him. "Oh, hey, girl-"
"Don't." You glared at him, snatching your purse off the table. "I'm off." You huffed and turned on your heels.
Brian was quick to get up, calling Roger and Adam tossers before he followed after you. He caught you just before you left the club, holding your hand softly as he pleaded for you not to walk away from him. You told him you just wanted to leave for your hotel, and Brian was more than willing to escort you, to make sure you were safe.
'I wouldn't be much of a gentlemen if I let you go on your own, would I?'
----------
-Present Day-
"Look," Brian pointed up to the sky. The pair of you stood in each other's arms, slow dancing as the night wore on.
You smiled up at the sky as you watched the comet move across the black sky. You cuddled into Brian's warmth. "It's beautiful, Brian." You lifted your head to look at him. "Thank you."
Brian grinned down at you before slowly pressing his lips against yours, pulling a soft moan from you. "Jeg elsker dig, fru May." Brian whispered his love for you in Danish making you grin. He shook his head with a soft chuckle, "Doesn't sound as romantic with me butchering it."
You giggled shaking your head as you reached up and cupped his wrinkled face, his youth still there as he smiled down at you. "I still love you, Mr May." You whispered as you leaned up and pressed your lips against his.
#present day!brian may x reader#pd!brian may x reader#present day brian may x reader fluff#brian may x reader#Brian May fluff
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Inspired by @evaroze 's AU in tumblr. Years of solitude had made Branch very cynical towards the idea of having a family of his own. In fact, if anyone had told him back when he was still grey that his, then, unattainable crush, Princess Poppy would not only be his Queen but also bearing his children, he would've laughed at them and warned them to not go out unless they wanted their over imaginative mind to get them eaten by the bergens. Now? Now he wouldn't change what he had for the world.
@foxlanaeshrek @eva-93 @tipolover22 I think you guys wanted to read this ;)
As unusual as it was, Poppy was actually worried.
And, yes, it was a unusual sensation, considering she’s always faced any trouble, any challenge, with nothing but hope, optimism, and confidence.
But, then again, this wasn’t just any challenge. She was about to break some earth shaking news to the love of her life. News that greatly affected both of them. News that would soon affect the whole kingdom, too. And the troll who held her heart was well-known for his tendency of overreacting about the most insignificant thing.
And this wasn’t insignificant, this was huge.
The pink queen trusted her husband, more than anyone in the world. But she knew that her news were something closely related to the core of years of self-loathing, sadness, and survivor guilt. They were related to the utterly devastating feeling that was loss, an irrational fear that only increased tenfold when one was at the receiving end. But just as loss awakened paranoia and dread, it also awakened the primal instinct of protection and care inside of everyone.
And, as paranoid and over-cautious Branch could be, he was twice as protective and caring.
There were simply no words to describe how wonderful he truly was.
That actually helped her ease her mind. All she needed to do to find her usual confidence was think about every single piece of proof that showed that her king wouldn’t act like she’d just told him she was cheating or him, or about to die, or sacrificing herself to the bergens in order to keep the kingdom safe…
And, Hair, was she glad her thoughts had nothing to do with any of that.
So instead, she focused on all the fond memories she shared with the former grey troll. The way he threw away everything he had ever believed in just to make sure she was safe during their adventure saving the village from the bergens. How, during said journey, he’d finally let her in and confided in her his fears and memories that haunted him. The way he slowly but surely came to embrace his inner troll. Or the way he took the greatest step of his life, forgetting all about his hopelessness and trauma just to cheer her up, to bring her back from the pit of emptiness that was her own sadness. Oh, when he sang for the first time in twenty years just for her. When he sang about how much he loved her! With nothing but adoration on his face as he uttered those three, magical words!
There truly were no words that would make justice to the infinite love and gratitude she felt for having Branch in her life.
But it wasn’t just the things he did during their adventures that made her heart flutter; it was also every little detail about him and their relationship. Like every night she felt fussy about something that might go wrong with one of her latest projects for her kingdom, when he would sing the sweetest ballads to her just to help her calm down. Or how reliable he was to entrust their people’s safety in his hands, always with moderation, of course. The way their voices would match effortlessly whenever they sang together. The velvety tone of his voice whenever he whispered sweet nothings into her ear, swearing his undying devotion to her in the form of the most moving and beautiful verses she could’ve ever imagined. How their bodies became two pieces of a puzzle everytime they danced or met each other in the night, it was as if they were two star-crossed lovers, finally reuniting with their beloved after years apart, yearning for one another.
Poppy chuckled at that, it was exactly that connection what had put them in the predicament they were in.
But that wasn’t important. What mattered was that, no matter what, Branch would always be the one that held her heart, and he held it so protectively, so close to his own…
All of her previous worries had vanished and were now replaced with thrill.
Poppy made her way through her husband’s underground bunker. If anyone had told her a few years ago that she would be living in there, married to the, then, grumpy, grey survivalist who would now be happy and colourful, she would’ve asked for an intervention to help the poor unfortunate soul that had just lost their mind.
But, alas, there she was. Living in a bunker and happily married to the grump. She finally made it to the living room, now decorated with a mix of Branch’s old artefacts, and her bright and colourful items. The Snack Pack never failed to comment on the hilarity of finding jars full of glitter, muffin trays, and dozens of bright-coloured scrapbooks in the same room as jars full of sweat, weapons, and books on survival techniques.
She found him there, seated on his chair and going over some blueprints for one of the many buildings and plans he had to improve the village. He was so handsome, with his new royal robes. Ever since they got together, the twins had made sure that he had tons of clothes, even more so the moment they told the Snack Pack they were getting married. The twins’ wedding gift had been an entire wardrobe with king-fitting garments; capes, pants, leather fingerless gloves, shirts, blazers… You name it.
And he looked stunning in whatever he wore. This time, he was wearing his old leaf vest‒”It’s the most comfortable thing I own, Poppy!”, he’d told her once‒and some brown pants he’d received from the fashionistas.
Not like her own wardrobe hadn’t changed, though. Ever since she became queen, Satin and Chenille had been providing her with dozens of dresses befitting of her role. But, she was still a Pop Troll, meaning she also had the need to stay true to herself and close to her subjects, and wear simpler clothes.
Like the dress she had put on that day; a simple, sleeveless white sundress with blue, embroidered diamonds adorning its hem and matching knee-length boots. Her hair, high in a ponytail but slightly curly and adorned with her crown. The perfect blend between regal and approachable.
Seeing as Branch was far too immersed in his duties, she called him, “Branch.”
At the mention of his name, he immediately looked up, “Oh, Poppy. Sorry, I didn’t see you there. What’s up?”
“Um,” she took a deep breath, she had to tell him, “can we please talk? It’s important.”
He had already stood up and was by her side the moment she said that, making him feel uneasy. “Poppy, is there anything wrong?” He asked her as he took one of her hands and rested his other hand on her cheek, reassuringly, “C’mon, what is it? You know you can always count on me.”
Yes, she knew. Still, she was so nervous she could barely look him in the eye, unintentionally worrying her husband further. “It’s just… It’s something very important for the both of us, and for the village! A-and, it’s huge, Branch, I swear. But I don’t even know where to begin!”
“Poppy, my love, what’s going on?” The survivalist was at the verge of hyperventilating. It wasn’t like his Queen to beat around the bush like that. At all.
“Well, i-it’s just that…”, the pink troll stopped again, not sure if that was the proper way to bring up the topic, “Sorry, I mean, uh, remember how odd I’ve been feeling lately? Morning sickness, some dizzy spells, and the like?” She tilted her head to the side, hoping she’d finally picked the right way to break the news to him.
“Yeah, we thought you might’ve been coming down with something.” The uneasy feeling in his chest was only becoming stronger and more suffocating by the second. If there was something the blue king didn’t like one bit, that was Poppy not acting like herself.
“W-well, it’s actually something more serious than that-“, Poppy stopped mid-sentence at the sight of a worried sick Branch. Oh, why couldn’t she just tell him!? At this rate he was gonna have a heart attack without even knowing!
Branch began to gently stroke her cheek with his thumb, mimicking the action with his other hand and caressing his wife’s. Now he truly feared for the worst. “Poppy, please, what’s going on? Are you okay?!” His voice was desperate, his heartbeat going a mile a minute, and his eyes only showed one emotion; panic. Oh, if anything happened to Poppy he knew he’d never forgive himself. He just couldn’t.
Seeing her partner’s reaction, the young queen knew she’d only messed up again. She really needed to tell him, but words proved themselves useless. Argh, why couldn’t she be as good with them as Branch was?!
That’s when it clicked.
Maybe Poppy wasn’t a poetess, or a smooth-talker like her husband, but she was a troll of action. Why using words when you can just show what you mean? After all, an image had always been worth more than a thousand words. That was the reason she scrapbooked‒well, and also because it was incredibly fun and she was so damn good at it. But, of course, it just had to be that day, of all days, that she hadn’t made a scrapbook to show to Branch…
As her king and beloved was losing his mind, calling out her name several times to get her attention, she was looking at everywhere but him, trying to find a better way to fess up. That’s when her eyes landed on his hand, the one that was tenderly holding her cheek.
“His hand, of course!”, thought Poppy, the perfect solution materialising in her mind.
“Poppy?” Branch called out to her for the twentieth time in a row, “Please, answer me! What’s wrong?!” Surprise came over him the moment the worry on his wife’s face was replaced with a tender look and a sweeter smile, finally looking at him straight in the eye.
Even to this day, her eyes were hypnotising. Luring him into getting lost into the infinite abyss of space that was hidden behind them and never coming back.
“Nothing’s wrong, Branch.” She said as she took his hand from her face and held it in both of hers. “I just want to show you something.”
Before the practical troll could do so much as ask, the optimistic half of him moved his hand in front of her, placing it onto her belly. He allowed himself to cast a glance at the source of his happiness. The look of pure bliss she wore, accompanied by a beautiful smile made his mind go blank.
Branch had always felt pride in his vast knowledge on Poppy’s facial expressions, especially her different smiles. What had once been one of his best-kept, most embarrassing secrets, had soon proven itself to be one of the most useful tools he had when it came to his romantic interest. He could describe and categorise each and every one of her smirks, grins, and smiles in depth; and he could tell when she was faking one from a mile away. So at this point he was convinced he knew all of them by heart.
The smile she wore now, however, it was one he’d never seen before. Full of love, of hope, of promises of an even better future waiting for them. It wasn’t even a toothy grin, but it was just so wide, and so warm, and so beautiful. But it wasn’t just beautiful, it was stunning. It was breathtaking. It was heartstopping. It was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. When Branch looked at that smile, he was pretty sure he was looking at happiness itself.
It was that smile and the sudden, comforting warmth he felt from her belly that made him understand. He finally understood.
There were so many things he wanted to say at that moment, but his mouth was suddenly very dry and words failed him. It was finally a miracle when he managed to utter, “P-Poppy…? A-are you…?”
“Yes, Branch. I’m pregnant.” She finished for him, the smile never leaving her face. “We’re gonna be parents.” She was at the verge of tears. She was gonna be a mother! Even better, she was going to make Branch a father!
Oh, she just hoped he was as overjoyed as she was.
Her answer came in the shape of some very familiar and addicting lips crashing into hers at the same time as a pair of strong arms enveloped her. The kiss was sweet, and slow, but just as passionate and full of love as the ones they shared on nights like the one they’ve conceived their soon-to-be child.There was no doubt he was as happy as she felt.
She couldn’t help but grin widely when they had to break the kiss for air, “So, I take it you liked my news?” She teased, still in his arms.
“Poppy, my sweet and pink queen, everytime I think I can’t possibly love you any more, you always manage to prove me wrong.” He hugged her again, resting his head onto her shoulder, “I’m gonna be a dad!”
The royal couple just stood there for a few minutes, in silence, happily enjoying each other’s presence along with the new life forming within the queen of the Pop Trolls. When they pulled apart to look at one another, they both had tears of pure happiness in their eyes.
“We’re gonna be parents,” the survivalist whispered, smiling.
“Yeah,” his wife smiled back at him.
“We’re gonna be parents!”
“Yeah!”
“Oh my Gem! We’re going to be parents!” Branch suddenly panicked.
“Yeah?” Poppy repeated, raising and eyebrow at the blue troll’s reaction and feeling slightly uneasy. “I thought that was a good thing…Isn’t it?”
The worry and‒was that fear?‒in his partner’s voice stopped him in his tracks, realising how his outburst could have sounded like. “Yes! Of course!” he accidentally shouted, making Poppy flinch slightly, “Sorry. But Poppy, seriously, it is a great thing. Don’t get me wrong! I am beyond happy. I-I’m thrilled, really.”
“Then why did you just act like me being pregnant were the end of the world?” She took a few steps back, distancing herself from him and crossing her arms, an eyebrow raised. Waiting for an answer.
“It’s not that, Poppy. You being pregnant is the best thing that happened to me since you married me!”
“But…?” she urged him.
“But… I’ve just realised I have to make the bunker a safer place for the kid. I already worry myself to death whenever you get too close to one of my weapons or traps, I can’t stand the thought of our baby getting near them.” He explained, his hand resting on his chin in a contemplative manner, “I should probably check the village too…” He whispered that last part to himself.
“Okay, yeah. That makes sense.” Poppy nodded.
“And I should also establish a perimeter for crawling babies, and go on regular patrols to make sure the area is safe for whatever outdoor activities we want the baby to participate in, and soundproof the bunker so no noises wake, scare, or disturb them, and…‒”
“Oh, no. You don’t!” The optimistic troll interrupted, slightly glaring at him, “Don’t you dare go full on overprotective and paranoid mode on me and the baby, Branch!” She warned him.
“But…”
“Shhhh! Listen, Branch. I know you just want to make sure our family is safe, and believe me, that’s one of the things I love most about you. But we can’t obsess over it either! We’re bound to mess up at some point, but we’re still gonna do our best and are going to love the baby and each other more than anything in the world, alright?” The royal troll told her husband as she leaned closer to him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
They stayed like that, lovingly gazing into their eyes. Poppy was already leaning in for a kiss when Branch spoke up,”But I’m still gonna soundproof the bunker!” And with that, he got up and went to the elevator to make his way to the village and buy the materials he would need.
“Branch, come back here!” Poppy shouted after him, but to no avail.
The Pop Troll sighed, it was going to be a long pregnancy. She smiled, one she was looking forward to.
………
“The Maple Tree” was one of the few official bars in Troll Village, a custom they’d picked up from the Hard Rock Trolls that still needed to be fully accepted. The differences between both tribes was laughable; while you could count the exact amount of pubs the Pop Trolls had with one hand, the Rock Trolls had one every 109 inhabitants. And Volcano Rock City was a very big city.
Of course, those differences also meant that places like “The Maple Tree” were a lot more pleasant and welcoming than the rowdy businesses Queen Barb’s kingdom possessed.
The bar was carved into a tree, that was, however, not a maple. Because of that, the furniture was all made of the tree’s wood and padded with rose coloured cushions. The benches were attached to the walls, just like the counter was. The counter, on the other hand, was filled with colourful bottles, glasses, and drinks, most of the latter being more classic Pop Troll drinks‒such as fruit and berry juices, or candy flavoured refreshments‒ than actual alcoholic drinks. And finally, the bar was famous for its stage, which welcomed bands of any tribe to play and fill the atmosphere with their music as a sign of diversity, peace, and acceptance.
At the moment, the young king of the Pop Trolls and soon-to-be father was sitting on one of the stools surrounding the counter, and downing his third shot of the evening. Just because the Pop Trolls’ taste surpassed the rest of the tribes’, it didn’t mean that the owner of the pub wasn’t curious of the other types of refreshments and dishes the other trolls would have in their homelands.
As Branch enjoyed the scenery and his drink, he kept looking at a picture in his hand. One he took everywhere with him; his wedding photo.
He remembered quite fondly that day. Even as he and Poppy had work as an unstoppable and perfectly coordinated team when they were doing the arrangements for the ceremony, the reception, and the after-party; once the day came, he had been a nervous wreck. He spent hours second-guessing everything, wondering if, perhaps, Poppy had thought better of it and would call off the wedding after regaining her senses. Or even worse, that it was a terrible mistake and he was about to ruin Poppy’s life and lead the kingdom to its doom.
But the moment he saw Poppy down at the aisle, his heart stopped, his mind went blank, and all his worries faded away. There she was, as beautiful as ever. Looking up at him from behind the veil with so much eagerness and adoration he almost thought he was looking at a reflection of his own soul.
She was perfect.
She was real.
She loved him.
He loved her.
They loved each other.
And they were getting married, that wasn’t a mistake. That was one of the best decisions he had ever made in his life, and she agreed to it. They were in this together, the two of them against the whole world. As always.
After they’d said their respective vows and the blessed “I do’s”, everything was a blur. He remembered Poppy kissing him senseless, with so much vigor and passion he thought his knees would fail him for a moment. He remembered dancing exclusively with each other for hours on end, both slow dances and upbeat songs. He remembered singing to her a song he’d written for the occasion; “Mirrors”, he’d called it. Because it represented how the two of them were the reflection of the other, their other half. They completed each other.
I don’t wanna lose you know
I’m lookin’ right at the other half of me
The vacancy that sat in my heart
Is a space that now you hold
Show me how to fight for now
And I’ll tell you, baby, it was easy
Comin’ back here to you once I figured it out
You were right here all along
It’s like you’re my mirror
My mirror staring back at me
I couldn’t get any bigger
With anyone else beside of me
And now it’s clear as this promise
That we’re making
Two reflections into one
‘Cause it’s like you’re my mirror
My mirror staring back at me
Staring back at me
And, of course, he remembered taking that picture. But looking at it now, knowing his family was about to grow more that he could’ve ever imagined, filled him with so much joy he could cry any moment now.
That photo truly was one of his favourites. The twins had done an astounding job with Poppy and him. He wore a simple, yet, elegant black tuxedo with a buttoned-up white shirt and a royal blue tie. And Poppy…
Hair, Poppy was a vision of loveliness.
Her hair was tied in a long braid that reached down her waist and was adorned with pearls and flowers; white daisies, pink, blue, and purple roses (symbolising their love)… Her dress was a beautiful white ball gown with a queen Anne cleavage, its collar made of tulle. Her loose strands were in place thanks to the pearl tiara that was also part of the veil. And the look of pure happiness she wore during the entire day was the best accessory imaginable.
In other words, she was a divine creature that had descended from Paradise to captivate them all with her presence.
And she was his wife and bearing his, their, child.
As Branch lost himself in his own little world, he failed to notice that someone was looking over his shoulder, stealing a peek of the picture he had in hand, “The Queen and ya were looking hairy fancy that day, Yer Highness.” Said a gruff voice with a Southern accent.
Branch jumped from his stool the moment the voice spoke. Luckily, it belonged to someone he knew all too well. Leaning on one arm on top of the counter, stood a troll with bronze skin, a fiery orange mane, and a yellow nose. His knowing eyes were the same warm colour as his hair. The troll wore a flannel shirt and blue jeans, and he was the owner of the bar‒ Maple, hence the name of “The Maple Tree.”
“Sorry, if I scared ya, Yer Majesty. I just couldn’t help myself! You looked so happy, both in and out of the picture!” The bartender laughed as he served him another shot, the sound of his, rather loud, laughter echoing around the place.
“Ha-ha. Very funny, Maple.” Branch deadpanned. “For your information, I am very happy. Thank you very much. And, please,” he scoffed, “it’s not like you didn’t have the same stupid grin on your face the day you married Cindy Lou. I should know, Poppy and I gave you our blessing, along with Delta.”
Ever since the different tribes of trolls had learned to coexist, it wasn’t so uncommon for them to befriend, date, or even marry followers of another type of music. In Maple’s case, he’d found himself his soul mate and partner for life in Cindy Lou; a country troll with cornflower blue skin, wheat-coloured braids, and four beautiful, brown and white spotted horse legs. Not to mention, his own sister was in a long-term relationship with a rock troll.
“That ya did, King Branch. That ya did.” Maple chuckled. “So, what’s got ya so chirpy?”
The former gray troll froze. On the one hand, he and Poppy had agreed on telling the kingdom together in a party Poppy had spent three days planning that was supposed to take place in two days time. But on the other hand, he’d already had four shots of a not-so-light drink, and he was known for not being very good at keeping secrets when drunk. Because of a few beers, he’d gone and confessed to Poppy that he kept all the invitations she’d ever made him, and where he kept them.
Summing up, he was frosted.
“Uh… Y’know, the usual. J-just came up with a-a new… defense system… for the village.” Branch tried to lie.
“Really now?” Maple raised an eyebrow at him, “Is that why ya decided to take today, of all days, yer wedding picture‒the one ya never leave outta yer sight, might I add‒ out of yer hair in the middle of my bar? Because ya came up with a new defense system? Really selling it, pal.” The bartender smirked at him with his arms crossed.
The survivalist really hated it when other Pop Trolls used sarcasm on him. Like, how did they even learn how to use it?!
Seeing no way out, given Maple had served him enough drinks to be able to blackmail him with way too many embarrassing stories of him, Branch sighed. There was only one thing he could do. “If I tell you, you have to hair swear you won’t tell anyone.” The look in his eyes was dead serious.
“Hair swear?” Maple’s eyes widened.
The King of the Pop Trolls nodded.
“Very well.”
After they’d completed the oath, Branch took a deep breath and fessed up, “This is something Poppy and I wanted to share to the whole village later but…” he smiled, “we’re having a baby. Troll Village will soon have a new little prince or princess.”
The orange haired troll gasped, delighted, “Yer Highness, that’s great! I can’t wait to meet the little trolling. I’m sure the whole village will be happier than a country troll dancing to the sound of “He Stopped Loving Her Today”, ironically”, Maple gushed, “Oh, I can’t wait to tell my Apple Pie!”
“Don’t you dare!” Branch hissed, making the other customers turn around to look at him, “You can’t tell a soul, Maple. Not even Cindy Lou, you’ve hair sworn.” He whispered-shouted.
“Alright, alright. Yer the boss.” The owner of the bar raised his hands up in defeat. “But really, congratulations. I’m sure Queen Poppy and ya will be some groovy parents.”
“I hope so too.”
The next morning, a loud banging noise coming from outside the bunker woke both Poppy and Branch up, they soon recognised the noise as someone knocking on their door. Startled, they exchanged glances and made it to the elevator. The moment they stepped out of their home, they were greeted with half of Troll Village, grinning from ear to ear.
“Congratulations!” Every troll present shouted at the top of their lungs.
King Peppy took a step forward, “Aww, Poppy! I can’t believe my little princess is finally going to start her own family,” the old king sniffled, “I’m so proud!”
“Dad, I’m 25. And I have been queen for three years now, and a married woman for two.” She deadpanned, “But how did you guys find out? You weren’t supposed to know until tomorrow at the party.”
“Oh, Maple told us.” A voice from the back yelled.
“Only because His Majesty spilled the beans first!” The bronze skinned troll defended himself.
“Maple!” Branch hissed, “I told you to keep it a secret. You hair swore! Do the sparkles, glitter and dew drops mean nothing to you!?”
“Hey, it’s not like I pinkie promised…” The orange haired troll shrugged.
His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched, the blue troll was about to give the other troll a good talking-to when his wife’s voice stopped him dead on his tracks, “Branch? You told them about the baby?”
Yup, he was most definitely frosted.
“I’m so sorry, Poppy. But I’d drunk a little bit more than I should have, and you know how I can get that happens, and then Maple appeared, and you know how he can get when he wants in in the gossip, and‒”
“Hon, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Really?”
Poppy nodded.
“But I ruined the surprise, t-the whole point of tomorrow’s party…”
“It’s not like we can’t celebrate tomorrow anyways,” she shrugged, “Besides, I can’t really blame you, guess it was too big a secret to keep to ourselves.”
“Oh, Poppy. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you‒, wait a moment”, he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, crossing his arms and impatiently tapping his foot at the same time, “You’re the goddess of surprises, you hate it when someone blows them…”
“W-what do you mean?” she started fidgeting with her hands, shrinking from his gaze.
“Poppy, have you told anyone about it?”
Before his Queen could answer, the other half of the village led by the Snack Pack appeared in front of the bunker, holding a huge banner that read “Congratulations on the baby!”
Her husband raised an eyebrow at her, “It slipped as part of the lyrics of the morning song.” She laughed awkwardly. “But, hey, one less thing to worry about, right?”
Branch chuckled, shaking his head with a grin. Sometimes, Poppy made it impossible to be mad at her and her quirks.
………
Trolls pregnancies were very different from those of other species. While most mammals would develop in their mothers wombs for months until they were finally ready to be born, or oviparous in eggs; trolls were born very differently.
It even changed depending on the type of troll, actually.
The most famous case were glitter trolls. They didn’t need a partner to be parents, so genitals weren’t as big a deal for them as other trolls. Hair, they didn’t even show them! Reason why they were always naked and Guy Diamond had given birth to Tiny Diamond all on his own.
Rainbow trolls, however, did need a mate. But the way Rainbow trollings came to be was just as surprising. The mother-to-be would spend the first trimester pregnant, carrying the forming egg in her womb. Then, once the first three months of the pregnancy were over, she would go into labour and lay an egg. That egg would then spend the remaining six months of its development surrounded by materials meant to keep it warm and healthy, namely its parents hair. And finally, at the ninth month, a trolling would be born from the egg.
Even if Rainbow trolls didn’t spend as much time with their forming babies as other species did, it still was of great importance that the mother was kept safe and comfortable, far away from unnecessary stress. For their emotions were still closely connected to the baby’s well-being even when they had already laid the egg.
Unfortunately for Poppy, who was roughly into her second month, that meant that Branch was on overcautious, overprotective husband/father mode 24/7.
The pink troll was currently resting on her chair in the bunker, working on what she already considered one of her finest works. Just like she’d made scrapbooks of her and Branch’s relationship (she had entire albums dedicated solely to certain dates and their wedding), she’d decided to do a scrapbook of her future baby.
So far, it didn’t have much. She wouldn’t be able to add the best stuff until the baby was actually there. But she still worked with what she was given; like sweet moments she’d experienced while pregnant. Mainly little details Branch had done for her.
It was funny, being an expecting mother. She knew nothing about her baby, and she already loved them more than her own life.
As she was adding the last remaining touches to the page she’d been working on, her husband made it back to the bunker after a long day ruling over the village.
“Poppy, love! I’m home!”
“Oh! Hey, honey!” she greeted him, slowly getting up from the chair, “How was your day?”
The moment he saw her standing up, he was there by her side. Putting one hand on her back and the other taking hers, to support her, “The festival’s coming along. But some trolls are way more helpful than others…” He sighed, “I’ve had to look for Keith three times in an hour because he was never where he was supposed to be!”
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, and then, I was reminded for the umpteenth time that the village tends to get the safety codes mixed up…” He rested his index finger and his thumb on the bridge of his nose, exasperated, “Seriously, I don’t understand how I keep forgetting that I have to give them a crash course about that. I mean, it’s been an issue since before we started dating!”
“Well… Maybe you could try with a different approach?” Poppy offered.
“Like what?”
“You see, most of us haven’t spent a little over a decade in an underground bunker, devouring practical books as the best way to pass time,” she smirked at the fake offended look he sent her, “so we’re not very good with numbers.”
“Oh, than what do you suggest I do, oh, all-knowing Queen Poppy?” He sent her a look, barely managing to suppress his laughter.
“How about, instead of numbers, you used colours?” She got closer to him, tempting him as they bantered.
“Colours, you say?” he got closer as well, sending her a sly smile, “What do you have in mind?”
Poppy began to tenderly kiss his neck, his cheek, his ears (a soft spot of his), “Just come up with something like, “Code Magenta: fire hazard” or “Code Periwinkle: cupcake shortage”. Y’know, something like that…”, she practically purred into his ear.
Branch could feel himself becoming putty in her hands. If there was one thing he was sure of, that was that his wife, especially his flirty wife, was his greatest weakness. And he had the pregnancy and her hormones to thank for.
An expecting mother’s symptoms were incredibly varied and unpredictable: mood swings, cravings, soreness in different parts of the body, strange abilities one could only dream of… For Poppy, the most present ones so far were mood swings and cravings. The mood swings constantly had Branch on the lookout; one minute, Poppy could be her usual self; perky and positive, and the other; she could be either a pink ball of barely-contained fury or a disconsolate crying mess.
He honestly didn’t know which one he dreaded the most.
On the bright side, her mood swings could also bring pleasant surprises. Like moments when she would be extremely affectionate (and Branch never rejected a chance at having his adorable wife’s undivided attention and endless kisses), or she could be extremely… erhm… eager. Which he would be able to smell thanks to his enhanced senses and feel his heart melt and his knees buckle from a mile away. Just like at that very moment.
The cravings, on the other hand, were manageable or a handful depending on the moment. Granted, it wasn’t the same thing going emergency grocery shopping at 3PM as going at 3AM. But his sweetheart needed him and he’d be frosted if he ever said he wouldn’t get her what she wanted. He just couldn’t say no to her.
The thing about them, though, was that they were always something sweet. Always. Hormones had given Poppy an even bigger sweet tooth than before. Everything had to have at least three spoonfuls of sugar now that she was expecting.
He’d been worried sick about a possible diabetes until Dr Plum Plimsy had assured him that it was normal, and that her body would be able to deal with all that sugar on its own.
Speaking of sweets… As much as he wanted to lose himself in his beloved’s affections, he had something for her, and if he didn’t give it to her before dancing a good ol’ tango, the angry mood swing was sure to come.
“Hey, Pops”.
“Hm?”
“I’ve got something for you.” He said as he slowly untangled himself from her loving embrace. Grabbing a paper bag from his hair, he handed it to her, “Your favourite.”
The moment he said those words, the queen of the Pop Trolls squealed like a teenage girl, “Oh, babe! You remembered!” She all but gushed as she took one of Biggie’s extraspecial, hyper-exclusive, once-in-a-lifetime cupcakes. Strawberry, no less. Her favourite indeed.
“I love you so, so much!” She squealed right before her lips came crashing onto his. Their favourite way of thanking each other.
“I love you too.” Branch smiled at her. “Now, sit down and eat your cupcake. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”
“Hey, that’s my line!” Poppy reprimanded him.
“I… I beg your pardon?” Now Branch was beyond confused. What had he done? Had he triggered furious Poppy by accident?
“I said, ‘that’s my line’”, the pink troll repeated, now fully facing her husband with a pointed look, “Branch, ever since we told the village I’m pregnant, you’ve been doing everything on your own! You don’t let me take part in the negotiations with the other tribe leaders, you don’t let me organise nowhere near as many events and parties as before; the sole idea of me going on a walk alone sounds completely insane to you!” She’d unknowingly been raising her voice as she spoke, clearly frustrated.
The former gray troll started fidgeting with his hands, doing everything in his power to avoid her questioning gaze, “I… I just want to make sure you and the baby are safe and stress free…”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Her shout made him look her in the eye. The frown on her face was bad news, “It took us a whole lot of work to help you evolve from paranoid hermit to slightly-disgruntled-but-all-in-all-caring husband and king! No way I’m letting you go back to neurotic lover!”
“…N-n-neurotic lover?” Branch managed to utter, still taken aback by Poppy’s sudden outburst.
“It’s the best middle ground I could come up with.”
“Oh”.
“My point is”, Poppy continued, “as much as I appreciate what you’re doing for me, ‒because, believe me, I appreciate everything that you do a whole lot‒, you have to give me my own space. You know, you outta let me do things on my own.
“I might be pregnant, but I can take care of myself. Besides, “she snorted, “this is Troll Village. What’s gonna happen to me here that’s actually dangerous?” She laughed.
The young king couldn’t help but laugh himself, “I guess you’re right. Sorry, Pops.”
“It’s fine, my king. Just… Control yourself a little bit more in the future. ‘Kay?”
“Hey, I’m not that overprotective!”
“Literally, the only thing you haven’t done is lifting me up whenever you see a puddle of mud‒!”
“See? Not that overprotective.”
“You didn’t let me finish. As I was saying, because you throw yourself to the mud and form a staircase with your hair whenever you see one!”
“Can’t let Cloud Guy get ahead of me again…” He muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing!” He sighed, “Look, Poppy. I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m so excited about us being parents that the mere thought of anything happening to any of you is enough to keep me up all night. But I get it, I should give you some space. I’m sorry, really.”
“Oh, Branch…” His wife cooed at him, “I love you.” She closed the gap between them and kissed him.
“I love you too.” He said in between kisses. When they finally pulled away, he asked, “Any idea on the gender of the baby? According to… Basically every experienced female troll I’ve talked to and any book I’ve read on the matter, you mothers have a pretty good instinct when it comes to these things.”
The optimistic troll looked down at her breasts, which were growing quickly to be able to feed the baby when they were born, “I don’t know the gender, but I’m pretty sure the baby’ll be a hungry one. These two are huge!”
“The baby isn’t the only one who’s hungry.” Branch teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Poppy couldn’t help but blush deep red. To this day, she could barely keep herself from blushing, and sighing, and just acting like a teenage girl in love whenever her husband was romantic or recited poetry to her. So, whenever he opted for a more… intimate route, she was a goner.
So there she was, blushing like an idiot as Branch took one of her hands and started to leave the lightest of kisses on her knuckles, “I’ve heard that some marriages lose their spark as soon as children are involved, things such as husbands losing interest in their wives because of their bodies changing and becoming distant as a result…” he chuckled, amused beyond belief, “However, as soon as I gaze at you, angel of mine, I can only wonder how a heartstopping vision such as this”, Poppy could feel him practically devouring her with his eyes, “can drive a sane man away.” He finished by kissing the back of her hand intently.
“G-guess t-they’re not so s-sane after all, a-are they?” The queen stuttered, overwhelmed by her husband’s affections.
Turning the tables and turning Poppy into a huge mess for once always brought a sly smile to Branch’s face, “Not so sane in the least.”
Without much of a warning, the teal troll rested his free hand on his wife’s back and the one that had previously held hers right behind her legs, lifting her up‒as gently as posible, of course‒, and carrying her bridal style to their couch. Once seated, Branch allowed Poppy to nestle herself in between his legs, her back pressed to his chest as his hands rested on top of her growing belly.
A comfortable silence settled between them, the love they had for each other covering them up from any possible cold, with their heartbeat as the best background music; all of it combined created the perfect atmosphere for an expecting young couple of lovers.
But silence never sat well with Poppy.
“Branch?” she called.
Her husband hummed in acknowledgement.
“Could you please sing to me? There’s nothing I crave more than your voice, especially when you’re away all day…” she whimpered, turning slightly to meet his gaze.
Branch chuckled, for it was true. The one thing Poppy would never fail to ask for, besides sweets, was for him to serenade them. She claimed it calmed her and the baby. Made them feel safe.
Leaving aside what he usually thought of her antics, her wish was his command. So he began to sing, from the heart, as an attempt to express how much she meant to him. For only that could ever get close to making the true depth of his feelings for his beloved, and pink, and perfect wife any justice.
Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine,
I’m leaving my life in your hands
People say I’m crazy and that I am blind
Risking it all in a glance
And how you got me blind is still a mystery
I can’t get you out of my head
Don’t care what is written in your history
As long as you’re here with me
I don’t care who you are
Where you’re from
What you did
As long as you love me
Who you are
Where you’re from
Don’t care what you did
As long as you love me…
With every verse, Poppy just made herself more and more comfortable in Branch’s arms. If there was one thing she could call Paradise, that were moments like this. She could only think of one way to make it better; to have a little trolling in her arms.
“Funny that you would choose a Backstreet Boys’ song, “she teased him with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “considering you have practically the same voice as Justin Timberlake from Nsync…”
“Remember me why are we together again?” He deadpanned at such a poorly joke. She knew he hated being compared to Justin Timberlake. That was a low blow, even for their usual banter!
“Heh,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “you liked it and you put a ring on it, so...” The pink troll emphasised her point by pointing at the finger that, sure enough, wielded her wedding band.
“Are you quoting songs again?”
“You don’t like it when I make my points through song and you don’t like it when I quote songs. There’s no winning with you.” She sighed in an over-the-top manner.
“And then I’m the dramatic one…” Branch rolled his eyes.
“Oh, you bet you are!” Poppy turned then to face him, resting her waist on her bent knees and unconsciously giving Branch anxiety, “Every time‒and I do mean every. Single. Time‒, something wakes you up abruptly you yell “Hide the coconuts!” And I ask you, my love, why? Just why? Who hurt you with a coconut, Branch?”
They stayed in silence until a roar of laughter escaped the both of them. It only got louder the moment Branch grabbed Poppy by the waist and dipped her, kissing her deeply. Once they separated to breathe, they went back to their original posture, affectionately nuzzling each other’s cheeks.
………
As unexpected as it could sound to foreigners, the nights in Troll Village could get very cold. The low temperature and occasional howling winds always invited the citizens to stay in, protected by the warm, fuzzy hair the pods were made of. Branch’s bunker, on the other hand, as advanced and well-developed as it was, still lacked such protection; so the nights could, indeed, get very cold.
The survivalist thought he had that problem solved the day Poppy moved in to live with him and start a new life together. Each other’s warmth proving to be all they needed to comfortably survive the night.
Therefore, the moment he noticed the heat that radiated from a figure that should be lying beside him missing, he panicked. Before he opened his eyes, he tried reaching to Poppy with his hand, but her side of the bed was empty. Sure enough, when he finally looked at it, searching for his wife, he realised she was nowhere to be found.
She wasn’t in the bunker.
She was a pregnant female.
There were predators in the forest!
A lump in his throat, he rushed out of the covers of their bed, put on his robe, and began to frantically search for his pink muse.
He searched everywhere in his bunker, just to be sure. She wasn’t in her favourite spots, she wasn’t in his favourite spots, she wasn’t in the kitchen, getting a late night snack; she wasn’t in the chocolate stash, she wasn’t in the reformed armory (although, admittedly, he wasn’t sure why he thought she could be there in the first place). Just where was she?!
With a feeling of dread tugging at his heart strings, he got out of his bunker to search for her in the woods. With a lantern in hand, he kept calling her name, hoping she would answer him. Finally, right before he decided to turn around and alert the village of their missing pregnant queen to initiate a search party, he found her. But the state he found her in was most unnerving.
The upside of it was that Poppy seemed to be completely unscathed, she had no visible injuries nor she appeared to be in pain. In fact, she was merely sitting on a rock in the middle of a clearing and gazing at the night sky. The downside of it was the distant look she wore when she looked at the stars shining high above her. Her pensive frown and melancholy eyes reflected a whole new level of depth inside of Poppy. The manner in which she stared at the stars held such reverence and humility it almost appeared as if Poppy was begging the stars to allow her to become one of them; to give her the chance of being as beautiful and carefree as them.
Branch soon decided that such a look didn’t belong on Poppy’s face. It should be the stars looking at her that way, not the other way around.
As carefully as he could, in an attempt to not startle her, he called her, “Poppy?”
Poppy just kept staring at the night lights like she hadn’t even heard him, which didn’t help him calm down his growing anxiety.
“Poppy, please, what’s wrong?” he tried again, this time getting closer to her. Lantern in hand, he carefully positioned himself right beside her, as they agreed they should always be; right next to each other, but instead of sitting on top of the rock with her, he opted to sit on the grass, to give her some space in case something was wrong. Which, judging by her unresponsive state, was very much the case. “Precious, it’s me, Branch. Please, my love, what are you doing here so late in the night? It’s very dangerous, you know it is.”
No matter what he did, the worried husband just couldn’t get his wife as so much as acknowledge his presence. Branch could feel the desperation getting to the best of him, it was maddening. In a last, desperate attempt, he leaned a little closer, tried to look her in the eyes, and attempted to reason with her, “Poppy, if something happens to you what’s gonna be of the baby? What’s gonna be of me?”
That seemed to stir something inside her. An answer at last! Only it wasn’t the kind of answer the blue troll had been expecting. In fact, it was actually way worse than momentarily losing sight of Poppy; she was crying. As soon as he’d finished his last sentence, the pink queen started hiccuping and sniffing softly, as the same time as tears made their way to her magenta eyes, reddening them quickly.
Before Branch could do so much as embrace her in hopes of consoling his wife, she spoke up, her voice wobbly and frail, “Branch, what if I don’t make it?”
Her question took him aback, “What do you mean?”
She shallowed thickly, “What if I die giving birth, Branch?”
She, then, turned to face him. She was so vulnerable at that moment and she felt so utterly lost. The idea of dying terrified her! Not only because she knew she still had too much to live for, but because she couldn’t bear the thought of living her loved ones behind so soon! If she died prematurely, who was going to make peace between Satin and Chenille when their sibling bickering went too far? Who was going to scrapbook with Biggie everything that Mr. Dinkles had done during the day? Who was going to babysit Tiny Diamond when Guy was busy? And most importantly, who was going to be there for Branch and their child, her dear lovable grump and soon-to-be ray of sunshine, when ruling the kingdom became too much?!
At those thoughts, her quiet cries turned into loud, heartbreaking sobs that she tried to hide by shielding her face with her hands. The sight was devastating indeed, and Branch could only stare at his crying wife while he felt his own heart breaking in two.
That definitely wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
“Poppy. Poppy. Poppy, please, look at me!” he pleaded as he gingerly guided his morning angel’s face with one of his hands, very much like he did when she lost her colours all those years ago. He just hoped this wasn’t going to be a repeat of that time, “Where’s all this coming from? Just this afternoon, you were completely over the moon with the idea of giving birth.”
Her magenta orbs were suddenly focused on the floor, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, “I… I had a nightmare, Branch.” Again, she swallowed thickly, in a futile attempt to get rid of the uncomfortable lump in her throat, “And… It brought unpleasant feelings back.”
“You? Unpleasant feelings? Okay, Pops, now you’re freaking me out. Seriously, what’s this all about?”
She finally held his gaze, and hair, were her eyes filled with sadness and fear. It killed him to see her like that. “It reminded me that my mother died when giving birth to me.”
Oh. Branch’s eyes widened. Oh.
Now that was unexpected. Neither Poppy or King Peppy ever spoke of Poppy’s mother, late Queen Holly, in such a way. Normally, their voices would be filled with care and longing, clearly reflecting the loss they carried. But never did they sound as serious as Poppy did then. Usually, if the late Queen was ever brought up, the royal family would convey their feelings in a way that was best described as bittersweet; it was clear they missed her, but at the same time they knew Queen Holly would want them to be happy, even if she was no longer with them. This time, however, the grief in Poppy’s voice was palpable, like no other time. It actually reminded Branch of when he reminisced his grandmother.
But it was true, Queen Holly had passed the day she laid Poppy’s egg. Branch remembered her vaguely, but such a presence could never be forgotten altogether. Queen Holly was a Rainbow troll with party pink skin, covered in glitter freckles and moles all over it‒of which Poppy had only inherited some moles and the glitter freckles on her cheeks‒; denim blue, silky hair; and a violet pair of eyes and nose. For the very brief encounters Branch had had with her before her passing, she could be best described as a toned-down Poppy. She was as calm, collected, and regal as she was optimistic, kind, and caring. No wonder King Peppy loved her madly, or that the kingdom had mourned her loss like they would grieve the most fateful Trollstice.
He also remembered King Peppy constantly mentioning how, in contrast to the eccentricities he’d passed down on her, his little girl had received her mother’s smile. And for that, Branch was eternally grateful.
All in all, Branch should have known that the loss of her mother would have affected Poppy greatly, still… It was easy to forget such a detail with Poppy’s upbeat and positive attitude indicating anything but loss.
But now, the familiar feeling of mourning and misery he had lived with for so many years presented itself in Poppy’s features, making it clear that not even her, the happiest troll to ever live, wasn’t immune to their effect. And that certainly didn’t suit Poppy, at all.
The questioning look on his wife’s face, though, brought him back to the real world. She had asked him a question, a query whose answer probably meant so much to her that it was practically like her sanity and ease of mind depended on it. Which they probably did.
What if I die giving birth, Branch?, her words resonated inside his skull, raising questions he hoped with all his being he didn’t have to answer. But it was apparent he had no other choice.
“Just what would I do if Poppy passes?”, he wondered. His most sentimental side knew that a part of him would die with Poppy if she didn’t survive, for she was his hope, his love, his saving light guiding him through the darkness he’d been facing all alone for years. Poppy was his happiness, and there is nothing harder to cope with than the loss of a source of happiness; especially if it came from a loved one.
But, his rational side knew that he would never be truly alone if Poppy left them. He’d been close friends with the Snack Pack ever since they befriended the bergens, after regaining his colours he even made friends of his own, and, most importantly, Poppy would leave him the most precious gift to remember her by: their child.
There were just so many factors to take into account, all of them as devastating as they were hopeful. As fulfilling as they felt selfish. As comforting as they were painful. But, above all, none of them succeeded at conveying what they were supposed to; none of them would truly ease Poppy’s fears.
Taking a deep breath, the former grey troll braced himself for one of his biggest challenges to date. He moved a little closer to the pink troll, took one of her hands from her lap and, squeezing it a little in a comforting manner, he spoke, “Poppy, in all honesty, I have no idea what I’d do if I lost you. Probably go mad,” he eyed her curiously for a minute, but when he saw his poor attempt at a joke had been fruitless, he quickly resumed to comforting her, “You do mean the world to me Poppy, and now that I know what it feels like to have the world, I could never go back to accepting anything else.
“However, I know I wouldn’t be alone. And, while it’s true a whole kingdom is quite the heavy burden on a lone troll’s shoulders‒you know that better than anyone‒, you’ve also taught me that I’m never truly alone. Thanks to you, my delicate flower, I have friends I can count on no matter what. Thanks to you, I have enough experience to handle any issue that might arise in our community. And, most importantly, thanks to you, my love, I have the family I’d been yearning for since I was a kid who’d just lost his grandma. And I’m forever grateful for all that, Poppy.”
“It’s good to see you’ll be okay if I’m gone…” She tried to smile, but it came out forced, giving the queen’s true feelings away. Luckily, his husband knew just how to fix that.
“Ah, ah, ah!” He wagged a finger from his free hand at her, halfheartedly admonishing her, “You didn’t let me finish.”
“By all means, go ahead.” She chuckled weakly.
“Above all, if there’s something I’ve learned after years of knowing you, Poppy, that is that you will always, always, get back up again. Always. So I highly doubt laying an egg would ever be enough to take you down,” he smirked at her, “I mean, you ventured into the forest on your own to save your friends from our natural predators, did everything in your power to make peace with said predators and succeeded, and the most challenging thing of them all���, his gaze softened as he uttered those last words, “you never gave up when it came to winning over the village’s reclusive grump. And you didn’t just win him over! You won his heart, and now he doesn’t want it back.” He finished at the same time as he kissed the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers.
Hearing such beautiful words, Poppy couldn’t hold her tears back anymore, but before Branch could panic again, she closed the gap between them with a deep kiss, embracing him as she went on with the lip-locking, her hands playing with the nape of his head as his roamed her back; their hair intertwining as only troll lovers’ would.
Once again Poppy’s conviction was reaffirmed; no matter the challenge, she would always be able to face it with Branch by her side.
………
If anyone had told the Snack Pack a few years ago that their dear Poppy would be happily married to the village grump and bearing his child, they would’ve looked at each other and agree that person was wackier than Cooper.
However, now they loved Branch just as much as if he’d been a member of their group his whole life, and where immensely happy for him and their queen. Although it is true they all had different opinions on their relationship at first.
At the beginning, they would all agree that Poppy tried too hard to involve Branch and to befriend him, especially considering the latter’s knack for ignoring, refusing, and even destroying her scrapbooked invitations and attempts. The heathen!
“Poppy, he’s way more trouble than what he’s worth!”, they would tell the, then, princess over and over.
Admittedly, though, even if they weren’t as observant as Poppy was when it came to the reclusive troll’s secret desire for company, they certainly were more observant than she was of his numerous hints of his secret feelings for her. They never mentioned it because they weren’t really sure how to bring such a topic up to Poppy, and because they low-key thought it was a lost cause, too. After all, there was no way two trolls so different from one another could make a relationship work!
Nowadays, however, they were glad they’d been so sorely mistaken. Poppy and Branch were an unstoppable team, and an even cuter couple! They were literally the whole village’s OTP.
When it came to Branch’s feelings, of the whole Snack Pack, Smidge was the first one to pick up on them; but she was also the hardest to convince to give the boy a chance. Having spent so much time near Poppy, with that of being her right hand in practically everything since they met, the Teaspoon troll didn’t take it lightly whenever Branch made Poppy doubt her own leadership and skills with his harsh words. And she couldn’t just forgive someone who tore a perfectly good invitation just for the sake of it! Just what in hairnation was Branch, an animal?!
Luckily, she soon started to warm up to him the moment he proved he’d do anything for Poppy, and she would always respect a fellow Poppy defender.
The first one of the group of friends who actually shipped them was Biggie. He even played dress up with Mr. Dinkles pretending to be them, and if, by any chance, you were to witness such thing, it was easy to notice the romantic atmosphere their games would head to. But it was to be expected; Biggie was a huge romantic and an even bigger supporter of the “opposites attract” trope.
Guy Diamond, on the other hand, didn’t really think much of it. If they ended up together, they would work things out themselves; if they didn’t, it just wasn’t meant to be. Although he was positively appalled to find out Biggie had been roleplaying as them and hadn’t invited an actor of Guy’s caliber to participate.
Satin and Chenille were conflicted. It was undeniable that Branch’s fashion sense was an insult to everything they believed in, but his ability to sew his own garments was impressive. Besides, they could totally see why Poppy could be interested in someone like him; he had quite the nice build, a sturdy body with defined muscles from years of hard work, and a pretty handsome face. In other words, he was fine model material with zero clothing expertise.
Cooper was simple enough in his approach. Before Poppy and Branch saved them from the bergens he was slightly afraid of Branch and felt really bummed out by his buzzkill attitude, but then, as soon as they decided to take a step forward and become a couple, his whole reasoning could be summarised by saying “If Poppy’s happy, so am I.” Which, honestly, was the wisest thing to do, otherwise, he’d tell you absolutely everything there is to know about him. And some things you just don’t want to know.
No matter their original views on the matter, now they could all agree those two were the perfect couple. Because you only needed to watch them for a little while to appreciate the way they would dance with each other, so intimate it felt like intruding in their private time. It took so little to be moved by the sweet, sweet ballads they would sing to each other and nobody else, capable of bringing anyone to tears. Because anybody could melt at the sight of the smiles they reserved for the other; in Poppy’s case, even if she smiled for practically anything, no smile, grin, or smirk could even begin to cover the beauty of the ones she sent Branch. And, in Branch’s case, though he did get better with time, any other smile would look like he was about to barf compared to the grin he shared exclusively with Poppy.
Yes, those two were their best friends. And they were the most beautiful married couple they’d ever see, of that they were sure.
………
Saying the day the egg was laid had been an emotional rollercoaster would be a vast understatement.
It had been a winter afternoon. Poppy and Branch were out supervising the construction of some new homes for the trolls from the other tribes that decided to live there, either because they liked the idea of a change of scenery, or because they’d met and fallen in love with a Pop troll and had decided to live in their partner’s homeland.
As Branch kept talking to the troll in charge about the best course of action to take when building or checking the blueprints to see if they needed some last minute modifications, Poppy was just looking down at the trollings playing around the area.
Soon, she’d be down there with her own little bundle of happiness and love, her dear, attentive husband close by. Oh, she couldn’t wait to walk hand in hand with Branch as they cooed at their little one, to watch Branch’s proud face and his dopey smile when he played with them, to sing and hug the precious little gift they were about to receive. To watch them grow up! A wide grin made its way to her face, oh, she just couldn’t wait!
And apparently, she wouldn’t have to.
As Poppy kept gazing at the village below her, she suddenly felt herself moist. Like she had peed herself. But that didn’t make sense! Ever since she found out she was pregnant she kept needing to use the bathroom regularly, she would’ve known if she needed to go!
That’s when the pain, along with the realisation, came.
This was it. Her water broke. She was going to lay the egg! She had to tell Branch!
“B-Branch? H-honey?”
“Yes, darling?” he replied absentmindedly, focused on the blueprints before him.
“My water broke.”
The moment those words left Poppy’s mouth and registered in his brain, his heart did a somersault and his eyes widened. Oh, cupcakes. The baby was coming! He immediately shoved the blueprints to the troll he had been talking to and ran next to Poppy. Taking her hand and positioning his other one on her lower back, he started to guide her towards their home.
“Someone call for Dr. Plum Plimsy!” he cried.
Aside from the obvious help they’d need from the village’s doctor, it was imperative that the mother laid the egg in the parents’ house, for they were to constantly watch over it until it hatched. Problem was, Branch never really thought about starting a family when he first started building his bunker. In the middle of the forest. A good half an hour from the village!
If he didn’t have his wife about to give birth with him at that very instant, he would be working on a time machine to go back in time and smack his former anti-social self in the face.
“Easy there, Poppy.” he tried calming her down, “Just breathe in and breathe out, like the doctor taught you to.” He said while panting himself, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the pink troll.
“Oh, I’m breathing alright! It’s you who’s about to pass out!”
When they finally made it to the bunker and down the elevator Branch wasted no time in preparing the “nest” Poppy would be using to lay the egg. Those nests were made of warm and soft materials to keep the mother and the soon-to-be child comfortable during the delivery and the remaining six months; respectively.
As soon as Branch was done, he gently took Poppy by the hand and led her to the finished nest he’d made with the blanket and pillows they’d bought over the last three months specifically for that day. With Poppy comfortably located, all that was left was to wait for Dr. Plum to appear and guide them in the process.
Poppy just kept breathing and squeezing Branch’s hand, who feared he might lose the circulation of his hand from how strong his queen’s hold was. Finally, Dr. Plum made it to the bunker’s living room, “How are we feeling today, Your Highness?”
“Is giving birth a mood? Because then, yes, that is how I’m feeling today.”
Alright, sarcastic Poppy. Yup, she was in a lot of pain. But she knew better than to be a brat towards the doctor. “Sorry, I’m just in a bit of pain…”
“A bit?!” Branch choked out, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to use his right hand after that day.
“Worry not, Your Majesty. I have dealt with far worse.” The Doctor assured with a gente smile, “My Queen, this is a very simple process, actually. All you need to do is push when I tell you as you breathe in and out. Are you ready?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Now, push!” she ordered.
Poppy did as she was told. It hurt a lot, although Branch’s face was probably a lot worse than hers… Still, she could feel something moving inside her. After the first push, Dr. Plum asked her to breath.
This process repeated itself several times; the Doctor would tell the expecting mother to push, she would do as she was told, and then she had a few instants to breathe. Until finally…
“Push!” screamed the doctor.
Poppy was screaming at the top of her lungs with that last push. She could feel her insides stretching to impossible lengths as the egg made its way through. Just how big was that thing?! But despite the struggle, she finally made it; she’d laid the egg and survived.
“Poppy…”, her husband’s voice broke her away from her thoughts, “you did it… And it’s beautiful!”
From the corner of her eye she could she the tears in his eyes, and when he gently handed her the egg, allowing her to hold their future kid in her arms; she soon felt like crying herself! The egg was beautiful, just like Branch said. It had six different, pastel colours, laid in a horizontal position; purple, orange, yellow, pink, blue, and green. It was also coated with a thin layer of glitter than shined depending on the angle the light reflected on it, it also had a tuff of rainbow hair. And it was big.
“Uh…Dr?” Poppy called.
“Hm?”
“Are eggs supposed to be this big? Because the last one I saw was Tiny Diamond’s and I could’ve sworn his certainly wasn’t this big…”
The Doctor, resting her hands behind her back, just chuckled, “No, they’re not.”
That caused Branch to panic, “What‒? I-is there anything wrong with our kid, Doctor?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Your Highness,” she waved a dismissive hand at the royal couple, “Just that this isn’t a kid.”
“What, are you saying Poppy just gave birth to a colourful, glittery rock?” Branch deadpanned, sarcasm back at full force.
But Plum merely laughed, “Not at all, Branch. I’m just saying that you’re probably going to have more than one kid.”
“What?!” they both yelled.
“Yup, that’s why the egg is so big. It has more than one trolling inside!”
The king and queen just stared at her, both of their jaws just a few inches away from touching the floor, “Anyway, I should be leaving. Poppy, do make sure you rest a lot. You deserve it after this, and I’ll be coming regularly to check on the kids”, she made sure to stress that word, “Call me if anything happens!”
And with that, she was gone.
Poppy’s mind was blank. Sure, she’d always hoped she would have more than one kid, but she never expected they would come together. Still, those were some very good news, and the egg was finally there, and she had survived! The thought alone made the pink troll want to cry from happiness all over again. Despite her talk to Branch and his reassuring words a few weeks back, the idea of leaving her loved ones behind just like it happened to her own mother still terrified her. But that was water under the river now, she was in pain, if a little tired, and all that was left to do was watch over the egg until it hatched. And if there was something she knew, that was that Branch wouldn’t keep his eyes off of it.
“Well, that was… Something,” she chuckled weakly, “But can you believe it, Branch?! In just a few months we’ll be parents!” When a few seconds passed and she didn’t receive a reply from her husband, Poppy turned to look at him, “Branch?”
There he was, lying unconscious on the floor. He had fainted.
“Oh, come on…”, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. Although a small part of her was actually amused by her grumpy man’s antics.
As soon as the news about the queen laying the egg had got out, the entire village was at the bunker’s door, asking how it went; if Queen Poppy was alright; how they felt… Of course, the Snack Pack were fiercely defending their place and right as the first ones to know, taking full advantage of Smidge’s intimidating presence and strength. Yes, they would be the first ones to find out… After Peppy, but he was the only exception!
The old king, on his part, had kissed and hugged Poppy over a thousand times the very instant he’d been able to visit them. He’d told her over and over just how happy and proud he was of her for everything she had accomplished with tears in his eyes, even mentioning that her mother, Queen Holly, would be proud too. Peppy had congratulated Branch too, and he’d almost hugged him until the former grey troll couldn’t breathe. Branch would never admit it, but a few tears had escaped his eyes when Peppy told him he was like a son to him and that he was incredibly honoured to be capable of calling him his son-in-law.
The Snack Pack gushed, cooed, and generally lost their minds as soon as they saw the egg. Satin and Chenille immediately announced they would be working on a unisex clothing line for the babies. Guy Diamond offered to be their babysitter, given he already had experience with his own child, Tiny Diamond. Biggie promised to help Poppy with her scrapbook of the babies, taking as many photos of them as she pleased. Smidge had sworn she would be the kids bodyguard, and that Hair saved whoever considered, even for just a second, to lay a finger on them. DJ Suki, on her part, told them she would help them create some lullabies for when the babies were fuzzy and didn’t fall asleep easily. And Cooper… Well, they had all birthday cakes until the children had their own kids sorted out with him.
The months that followed were stressful, but wholesome for the expecting parents. They decided they would take turns in watching over the egg and ruling over Troll Village, which included one of them would have to miss out on important celebrations; but their subjects were very understanding, they were going to have the future royal kids, after all!
Whenever it was Poppy’s turn to watch over their growing kids, she would bring her scrapbook supplies, some food and a blanket or two; one for her, the other to keep the egg warm. And even if she certainly was excited and overjoyed about her ever-growing family, she did get anxious from time to time, and certainly took her responsibilities very seriously.
Branch… Was Branch. When he was at his calmest, he would follow Poppy’s example and do whatever chores he had ‒that were safe, of course‒, in the living room, around the egg. But when, for whatever reason (generally nightmares that brought back fears from his grey days), he would feel extra panicky, he would basically make a bunker inside his bunker. To ensure the kids’ safety.
They both were very excited about being parents, but they were very worried, too. Luckily, it only took each other a talk with their soulmate to ease their minds. And every time it happened, Poppy and Branch would keep watch over the egg during the night together, usually falling asleep with their heads resting on top of the other’s.
Then, one Summer morning, the day finally came.
Poppy was in the living room, keeping an eye on the egg, as Branch was in the kitchen making lunch, probably a healthy and light pasta salad; perfect for the hot weather. Poppy was working on a scrapbook based on the Glitter Palooza Festival that had taken place recently when, suddenly, she thought she heard a noise.
Looking around, she saw nothing out of the extraordinary, “Branch? Did you say something?”
When he replied that no, he hadn’t uttered a word, the pink queen just shrugged and resumed her scrapbooking. As she was cutting a piece of plush into a troll, however, she heard the noise again. It was some kind of rattle mixed with a creak. Curious beyond compare, she set her materials and scissors down and focused on finding the source of the noise. Maybe she didn’t have Branch’s accute senses, but she sure as Frosting wasn’t deaf, either.
When she finally heard the noise for a third time, she turned her head to the direction it came from, and she gasped. There, right beside her, was her egg, which was moving slightly and had a little crack on its shell.
This was it, the babies were coming!
She wasted no time calling her husband, “Branch! Come quick!”
At the sound of Poppy’s frantic voice, Branch came rushing in, “What happened? Is everything alright?”
“Branch, look!” she motioned to their nest, “The egg is hatching!”
When he turned to see that, indeed, the egg was hatching, his breath hitched. They were about to be parents. He was about to be the father of Poppy’s children. His Poppy, his beautiful, kind, happy, and wonderful Poppy who seemed so unattainable just a few years back. He was so happy he could feel his colours shining brighter than ever, Poppy’s too.
Slowly, they sat down on the floor, just in front of the egg and never taking the eyes off of it. Finally, it cracked completely. And what they saw left them speechless.
Inside the egg there weren’t two, or even three children. There were six! All of them girls, and each of them was of one colour reflected on the, now, broken shell; purple, blue, green, orange, yellow, and pink. And they were perfect!
Tentatively, as it to not hurt them by accident, Poppy and Branch held them in their arms, admiring the beautiful gift they’d just received. There was no stopping the tears that threatened to escape the both of them. They did it, they were parents.
………
Ever since the girls had been born, life had been more of a blessing to the residents of Troll Village than ever, especially to the kids’ parents.
For the last few years, Poppy and Branch had done everything in their power to balance their personal and professional lives, so, as much as it pained them to, they had to ask for babysitters now and then, since they couldn’t afford rescheduling or having one of the too missing important meetings constantly. But, all in all, even if their life was crazier and busier than ever, it was also happier. Withouht a doubt.
The girls had brought them so much joy!
The funniest thing was that, not only were they all of a different colour, they also had quite different personalities. Even from their parents’! It was almost as if they’d taken a personality trait from Poppy and Branch each and turned it into their core way of being. And just like that one could define the six young princesses: Violet, Rosie, Aster, Daisy, Lily, and Pansy.
Violet was a light purple trolling with slightly tousled, dark purple hair, a pink nose and bluebell eyes. She was, without a doubt, the diva of the sisters. She simply loved fancy outfits, shiny things, and absolutely loathed getting dirty. She was, in fact, the only sister who didn’t mind not being able to go to expeditions to the forest with her father. And she was a sucker for attention, the kid simply lived for being in the middle of the spotlight. Honestly, if Poppy didn’t know any better, she’d say Violet was the twins’ and Guy Diamond’s kid; who, by the way, simply adored the little princess, and constantly asked if she could model for them, or take part in his plays; respectively.
Rosie was a hot pink little girl with silky flamingo pink hair, a green nose, and green eyes. Rosie, despite being the most physically similar of the girls to her mother, had inherited her father’s shy personality and his tendency to snitch on trolls she was suspicious of. But she made up for it by being incredibly gentle and kind, as well as a hopeless romantic. And, oddly enough, she seemed to be attracted towards Rock trolls and their music, which her father hoped was just a phase…
Aster was the opposite of Rosie. That is to say, physically speaking, she was the one whose colours were closest to Branch’s, for she had periwinkle skin and wild, curly sapphire hair whose bangs covered her eyes, and a fuchsia nose. Their fashion sense was quite similar, too. However, she was nowhere near as cautious as him; in fact, she loved adventure, all types of sports, and challenging herself. Just like her mother did, in her own way. And, although some would define her as somewhat of a tomboy, she was simply fascinated by butterflies.
Daisy was a little Poppy 2.0. Sure, her colour palette was nothing like Poppy’s, having orange skin and hair, her dad’s purple nose, and green eyes, alongside an adorable gap in her two front teeth; but her personality and hobbies were 100% Poppy. Daisy was always on the move, she was the life of the party, and got pretty upset whenever her parents would tell her she couldn’t go to certain events because she was too young. But she was just as artistic, constantly drawing and hanging decorations… It wouldn’t be the first time Poppy and Branch were forced to scold her for drawing in the walls when she should be sleeping.
Lily was the cool girl. She was a neon green trolling with yellowish green, shaggy hair, with a bang of it covering her right eye, and an yellow nose. Her down-to-earth personality was best defined as what Poppy and Branch could accomplish if they put both their minds to it. However, the girl had almost as much of a hard time opening up as her dad, only ever really being honest about her feelings and worries to her parents, who were always there to listen and encourage her to try and trust new people. And she was a huge plant nerd. She and Branch would spend hours in their greenhouse studying and looking after the vines there.
And, last but not least, Pansy. She was entirely yellow, except for her orange nose. Pansy simply loved facts, every single day she would get close to whoever was willing to listen and talk their ear off about any fact, about any topic: botany, art, survival skills, origami…; you name it. She adored learning new things, so she spent as much time as posible in the library. Everyone was convinced she’d live there if she could. On the other hand, her endless curiousity led her to yearning to become an explorer, always down to discover new places, which made her the most upset and disappointed when Branch told the girls they couldn’t come with him to the forest.
Despite their differences all six princesses had something in common: they had all inherited their mother’s glitter frackles and a varietion of her famous bangs, and their father’s ears.
Although Poppy had started her princesses’ scrapbook even before laying their egg, it was to be expected that it would only get bigger and bigger as soon as they were born. The moment the girls hatched from the egg ‒after both parents had gushed over them to their hearts’ content as well as crying like there was no tomorrow, that is‒, Poppy had picked up some remains of the shell and glued them to the scrapbook.
She did the same with practically every memorable moment in the girls’ life: the day their hair grew for the first time ‒second, if you count the strand they had to plant in order to grow their Troll Gem‒, the first party they ever went to, the first time they met Mommy and Daddy’s Friends and loved ones, their first visit to Bergen Town and other troll tribes… But, as the girls started manifesting their different interests and personalities, Poppy had to add more sections. One dedicated to a daughter each.
She just didn’t expect she would have to add a seventh section anytime soon, though. But she did.
Again, she found herself in quite a pickle. Not because they were bad news but because… They were shocking. And, to this day, her dear husband still had a lot to improve when it came to receiving shocking news. Not to mention, now it wasn’t only telling Branch. Now, they had six daughters to get explain the whole situation to.
But first, she had to tell the troll who was supposed to be better at handling such information. Key words being “supposed to.”
The Queen of the Pop Trolls decided it’d be best to tell him at nap time, when the girls would be asleep and it’d still be telling him as soon as possible. She found him in his office, where he would go to to work on blueprints and plans for the kingdom. In a way, it was very similar to the day she told him she was pregnant for the first time.
“Branch?” she called him, “Can we talk?”
Looking up from his desk, he smiled at the sight of his wife, “Sure, my sweet. What’s up?”
“What’s up is… Um… I… I… I, well…”, she stuttered, “I wanted to tell you that… I’m…”
“Poppy?”, he asked, one eyebrow raised at her, “Are you ok?”
Oh, words be frosted! Frustrated beyond belief, she did the only thing she could think of that was effective; she took her husband’s hand and placed it on top of her belly. Just like she’d done the first time. The look of realisation and pure shock in his eyes was proof enough that he’d finally got it.
“Huh. I’m gonna register a patent on that move. It’s foolproof.” She joked.
Blinking hard, Branch tried to collect his thoughts. “Poppy… Are you pregnant again?”
“Yup”, she popped the ‘p’.
His jaw all but dropped.
“But, how?!”, given the pointed look his wife was sending him, he quickly tried to amend the slip-up, “Ok, yeah. I know how. Don’t answer that.” That was certainly too much, so, sitting back down at his desk, they both stayed in silence for a few minutes, “I just… I can’t believe it! I mean, we already have six kids!”
“Glad to see you still remember how to count.” Poppy smirked at him.
Her joke wasn’t well received, though, for it only made her husband scowl lightheartedly at her, “I’m supposed to be the sarcastic one of the two, that’s basically my thing! Don’t steal it, it’s not natural when it comes from you. Stop it. Seriously, stop it.”
Chuckling, she made her way to the wooden desk. She leaned ever so slightly over it to make herself comfortable, all the while finding the situation to be quite amusing, “Sorry, couldn’t resist. Are you finally over it? Or do you need a few more minutes to be shocked?”
“I’m gonna take you up on that.” He sighed, “It’s just… Wow. Seven kids, Poppy. Seven!”
“Branch, unless you want me to ‘steal your thing’”, she air-quoted, “you really ought to stop making it so easy.”
“Right. Sorry. But, oh my Gem!” he threw his hands up in the air at the same time as he reclined on his chair, “Before I became the King of the Pop Trolls I used to be the King of Safety…”
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen, am I right, Hot Stuff?” Poppy couldn’t help but snicker at the glare Branch was sending her.
His frown only deepened at her laughter, “Stop it.”
Once she managed to calm down, she rested her hands on his shoulders and started massaging them in an attempt to soothe him, “You’re freaking out over the wrong thing, my king. Having another kid should be the last of your problems.”
“Oh, yeah? And what, do tell, should be at the top in my list of problems, according to you?”
“Telling the girls they’re going to have a baby brother or sister who’ll probably have to receive a lot of attention instead of them. I’m sure our little Violet, a.k.a. the biggest attention seeker in Troll Village will simply love that.”
“Oh, cupcakes.”
“Oh, cupcakes, indeed.” As excited as she was, Poppy still felt a little uneasy over starting that new chapter in their lives all over again, this time, with six other kids. She was rubbing her temples, trying to figure out what to do, when a pair strong but incredibly gentle arms hugged her from behind.
“It’ll be fine, gorgeous.” Her king whispered in her ear, “We can do it. And as for the girls, we just gotta assure them that we’ll always love them just as much, even with the new baby.” He left the lightest kiss on her temple, “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”
“Thank you, honey. You always manage to calm me down.” She turned slightly to meet his eyes, “So? Are you ready to be a for the second/seventh time?”
“With you? Always.”
Turns out, telling the girls hadn’t been as much of an ordeal as they thought. Sure, they had to explain to them ‒as vaguely as possible‒ how their mum had got pregnant and the pregnancy process. And sure, they’d had to assure them over a dozen times, especially Violet, that even if the baby needed a lot of attention for quite some time, they would still love them all no matter what. But, overall, their daughters were mostly excited; asking about just when the baby was going to be born, if they could play dress up with them, if they could sing and dance with them…
It was the cutest thing ever for their parents.
Just like it happened when they were expecting for the first time, the village, the Snack Pack, and Peppy were overjoyed, although none wasted any time to tease Branch about his hypocrisy when it came to safety and protection. But, of course, they were just joking goodnaturedly, and quickly offered their help for whatever they might need.
As the months passed, the girls would do their very best to help in any way they could. They tried to not get in any trouble; to not worry their mum. They spent as much time as possible with Poppy, trying to learn more about the baby. They would give a hand to their father in any chore they could help at, because they knew he was also very busy and stressed with ruling over the kingdom as well as taking care of his family.
When the day finally came for Poppy to lay the egg, Branch had agreed with Guy Diamond that he would watch over Rosie, Aster, Pansy, Daisy, Violet, and Lily while Poppy laid the egg. After all, none of the girls in his life needed that extra stress. Saying they were reluctant to be away from their mum and their future brother or sister during such a crucial moment would be an understatement. But alas, if they could help mummy that way…
When they finally came back home and got a chance to see the egg for the first time, they all gushed and squealed like there was no tomorrow. The egg, which was much smaller that time, meaning it only held one troll; was of a mint colour, coated slightly in glitter, and with a tuff of green hair. Poppy had promised the girls that, as soon as the baby was born, they could help her with the baby’s section in the family scrapbook.
After months of waiting and “Are they here yet?’s” from six very impatient soon-to-be older sisters, the time finally came one Winter day. This time, it had been Pansy the one who noticed the egg shaking and cracking slightly. And, since she already knew quite a lot about eggs from reading so much, she soon notified her whole family.
It was difficult to tell who was more excited, the kids or their parents. One thing was for sure, the best way to describe the feeling they all got as soon as the baby arrived would, indubitably, be with on word: happiness.
That was the feeling that reigned when little Sticks was born.
And a bit from smugness from Poppy’s part, actually. She had won a bet and now Branch owed her a hundred cupcakes.
………
Now that little Sticks was two years old and a lot less fuzzy than when he was just a newborn ‒the baby boy was adorable as they come, but he sure took after his father; he was a grumpy bear‒, the King and Queen of the Pop Trolls had decided it was time to update a tradition of the royal family.
They were going to take a picture for the family portrait.
It was a tradition as old as time, even older than the days of the Trollstice. As the members of the royal family grew older, they would take those portraits to commemorate how for they’d come. From the little princes and princesses as toddlers with their parents, the kings and queens, to the day when the heirs to the throne would start a family of their own.
In Poppy’s case, she had several portraits where it was just her and her dad, the closest she’d ever been to her mother being the photo Peppy and Holly had taken when she was still pregnant. But as soon as she decided to share her life with Branch, he would appear in every single one of them, and she no longer felt so alone. The first photo they’d taken was from after they got married, which both signaled the beginning of their own family and the rise to the throne of the Pop Trolls’ new king. Then, they had their own photograph with Poppy pregnant, something she’d insisted on back when she was still scared of not surviving. As soon as the girls were born, they’d posed for a few pictures with them, from when they were newborns to just before they’d found out a new addition to the family was on its way. And, finally, they were going to include little Sticks in their family tradition.
Their little boy, who was contently resting in his mother’s arms for he was a huge mama’s boy, added even more colour to their family. Sticks had mint skin, neon green hair, and a light yellow nose. And, of course, Poppy’s freckles as well as Branch’s ears. He was the missing piece to complete the rainbow the royal children formed together.
“Alright, guys…” Biggie, who was in charge of the photoshoot, said, “Smile and say ‘cheese!’”
“Cheese!”
From that day on, whenever they looked at that picture they would all smile, no matter the circumstances; if they’d argued with each other, if they felt sad, if they were over the moon with an upcoming party… It didn’t matter. Because whenever they looked at that picture, they’d be reminded of the most important thing of all: they were a family.
#trolls#dreamworks trolls#trolls the beat goes on#ttbgo#trolls world tour#twt#poppy#branch#broppy#oc#king peppy#violet#rosie#aster#pansy#daisy#lily#sticks#married!broppy#rainbow children! au#trolls au#trolls fanfiction#the snack pack
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Look In My Eyes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader
Warnings: slight angst, mentions of PTSD, PTSD episode, a shit ton of fluff :)
The first time he saw her, his mind went silent. The ever-calculating, always strategizing, overly cautious Bucky Barnes experienced mental silence for the first time since he was a young boy. It was like she had a magical remote control and had hit the mute button, and all he could even think about was how gorgeous she was. And even then, he couldn’t actually comprehend how the universe had put someone as stunning as her in his line of sight.
And, later that night, when Steve had introduced her to him, Bucky had actually been as suave and charming as he was back in the 40s. He said all the right things, made her smile so much that her cheeks hurt, and fell in love with the laugh that resembled one of those cartoon-like magic wand sounds. Or maybe windchimes. He didn’t know. It was all so gentle yet bright and happy. He could listen to it all day.
The second time he saw her, he was dumbfounded. It was three in the morning, and there she was, in the kitchen of the compound, a cup of tea in hand as she listened to calming music. Her hair was messy, she had on no makeup, she was in a hoodie and sleeping shorts, but she was still the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.
Bucky didn’t even know that she was a part of the team, and that’s because she was just recruited officially. Tony had Steve train her for the past year while she worked hard to contain her powers. He asked her what she was doing up, she said that she couldn’t sleep, and they talked until they both tired out and went to bed. He had a newfound respect for his teammate; she had PTSD and experienced insomnia and nightmares due to it, and Bucky related a little too hard. He didn’t know what this new feeling was inside of his chest--it was a fluttering, a burning, and a chill all at once.
Sam told him it was his cold, icy heart feeling love for once.
The third time he saw her, they were training together. Steve mandated a team session, and she stood shyly around the mat, next to Steve. Her eyes were trained on Sam and Natasha, who were going at it at the moment. And when Steve called her to the mat to fight Wanda (no powers allowed, girls), (Y/N) looked up at Bucky with a small smirk. She took Wanda down quickly. (Y/N) used what Bucky would consider a signature Natasha move, throwing herself onto Wanda’s shoulders and using that momentum to flip Wanda onto her back and pretending to snap her neck. Wanda smiled up at (Y/N), and (Y/N) smiled down at Wanda before helping her up.
Bucky was ridiculously attracted to her already, but that just made him even more attracted.
“(Y/N)--” Steve started, and then he looked to his best friend with a prideful smirk. “--and Bucky.” Heat rose to the man’s face as he stepped onto the mat next to this beautiful woman. She looked nervous, his experience of people-reading told him that much. Her body stance exuded confidence, but he knew that she was faking it. “And, (Y/N), powers are allowed,” Steve added. (Y/N)’s demeanor changed entirely. Where she was once faking confidence, she now showed anxiety and nerves.
“Steve, I don’t think--”
“It’s okay,” Bucky said. He didn’t know why she didn’t want to use her telekinesis or electric powers, but he knew that the last thing she would do is hurt him.
She steps off of the mat and speaks to Steve in a hushed whisper, and then he excuses her to leave the session. Bucky looks at his friend with confusion before assigning someone else to spar with him.
After Steve says that they’re done for the day, Bucky seeks her out. It took all of five minutes to find her in her room, door locked and silence on the other side. He gives three quick raps on the metal, but no answer ensued. He enters her code and opens the door slowly, not expecting the sight in front of him.
Numerous small objects floated in the room, some sparks surrounding various ones. (Y/N) laid on her back in the middle of her bed, her arms stretched out to the sides with her palms face-up. Her eyes were closed, but not peacefully. They were squeezed shut, and labored breaths passed--in through the nose, out through the mouth.
Bucky takes one step, and her eyes snap open. The objects clatter to the floor, no longer suspended by her. Eyes are wide, and tears are threatening to spill. “Please, no. I-I didn’t know that they were--please, no, no,” She pleaded, fear laced through each and every word. He realizes the look on her face, and he can tell that wherever she is, it isn’t here.
“Sweetheart, where are you?” He asks.
“Red--re--” The words can’t seem to pass her lips, so she panics more when Bucky takes another step toward the bed. “No! Please, no.”
He suspected that she was a part of the Red Room. That she had been tortured endlessly and that she was terrified that Bucky was going to hurt her. His heart broke for her.
“I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed, sitting on the bed. “Look at me, doll.”
Her eyes shut and she turned her face away, a hot tear falling. He gently places a hand on her knee, making her jerk at first, but she allows the contact. “I don’t want to go, please don’t make me go,” She begs. Her voice is just barely above a whisper. Her eyes open and look up to him, and Bucky feels his heart drop into his stomach.
“(Y/N), look in my eyes,” Bucky says, matching his tone to hers. He moves one hand up to cup her face, and although she remains rigid, she doesn’t flinch, and he supposes that’s a start. “You aren’t there anymore, sweetheart. You’re in New York with me. You’re safe. You’re having an episode, babygirl, that’s all it is.” The words at least make a dent, but they don’t fully register. “Breath with me, okay?” Bucky asks. She nods and together they breathe slowly, grounding her back, back to reality, back to now, back to here, back to him.
Her hand slowly reaches up to grasp his own, and she presses it closer to her cheek. It’s slightly damp and it feels like she’s on fire, but she’s coming back.
(Y/N) looks into his eyes, and she comes back from the Red Room, and she gets utterly lost in his pools of blue. She swallows hard and then nods to tell Bucky that she’s okay, that she knows she’s safe.
“Thank you,” She mutters. He gives a sad half-smile and brings her into him, soothing her anxious mind. “It was the Red Room.”
“Tortured?”
She shakes her head and sighs. “I was the torturer.” This takes Bucky aback slightly, but he doesn’t let her feel it. “They forced me to do it. I have these abilities and I hate them so much because all they have ever brought is pain. Buck, I don’t want to hurt anybody who doesn’t deserve it.”
“I understand, (Y/N),” He tells her. And he really does. He was the Asset, once upon a time, and he still hasn’t healed. “You’re not that person, doll. You are who you choose to be, and that is a strong, beautiful, pure woman who can do anything she sets her mind to.”
“Anything?” She asks, slight confidence to her voice. He nods her head and notices how she leans in closer to him, slowly, slowly, slowly. He looks at her lips, slightly red from her biting on them, so perfect, so inviting. She presses her lips to his gently, making sure that he could back out at any moment. He doesn’t. In fact, he presses just a little harder, moving his lips in sync with hers, sweet like strawberries, soft like silk, pure, innocent, but passionate all at once. His senses are flooded with her, her, her.
He smiles when she pulls away, pressing her forehead to his. He looks into her eyes, and he is lost, yet he knows exactly where he is.
They look into each other’s eyes many times after. Before they kiss, when he takes her to dinner, the first time they wake up next to each other. It feels fresh every time. It was something new, something different and perfect in so many ways.
Five years later, she turns to face him, so close, yet so far away. The white of her dress makes her skin glow, even more so with the light makeup. Her hair frames her face, the flowers in her hand provided something for her to fidget with. The rows of people stand and take pictures and stare in awe, but neither of them notices. She walks down the aisle, arm looped through Tony’s, one painfully slow step at a time.
Bucky’s hair is shorter now, his face is clean-shaven, and he looks youthful. The spark of love has been there longer than five years, but that smile that he wears now was unlike one that she had ever seen. She and Tony stop right at the altar--well, the garden entrance outside of the compound--and he kisses her forehead before handing her to Bucky.
When it came time for the vows, she nearly cries as Bucky speaks. “I have never believed in fate. Things have never happened for a reason, no God has ever handed me anything--except that time Thor gave me some of his liquor. But, the night I first looked into your eyes, something changed. It might not have been divine intervention, but the universe decided that we should at least meet. And, shit, I’m so glad that it did. (Y/N), you make me feel human. Like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. And I thank whatever God or Goddess might be listening, because I’m so in love with you, and my only goal in life is to make you feel as happy as you’ve made me.”
She gives her vows (and Bucky actually sheds a tear, off the record) and they are pronounced as husband and wife.
As they share their first dance as a married couple, they look into each other’s eyes. The amount of happiness that each one feels is indescribable and pure and eternal.
The first time he saw her, his mind went silent. The first time she saw him, she heard the voices of angels pushing her to speak to him. It may not have been divine intervention, no, but they were each other’s deity, and that was more than enough.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x enhanced!reader#bucky x enhanced!reader#marvel#marvel one shot#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#fanfiction#fan fic#fanfic#look in my eyes
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