#besides almost all of the bachelors and bachelorettes are barely out of high school and romancing one skeeves me sorry

[thewritehag]

Everyone in the Stardew Valley fandom: *Ragging on Elliott because ???*

Me: *Bumrushing Elliott's heart events to marry him because I dig a soft, beefy boy who writes odes to his spouse after 50 years of being together the same way he did after their first date*

[ncitygirls]

only - changbin x f reader

angst, fluff, suggestive, royal!au, cw: war, 5.3k

you were barely eighteen when you accepted the hand in marriage of the son of the duke and duchess of levanter. seo changbin - an affluent heir to an impossible fortune - almost had you surprised when you found his interest in you was unlike that of your fellow bachelorettes. naturally, their interest was fuelled by an insatiable greed and a hot desire for financial prosperity. as should yours, as was yours. not changbin though. no, changbin prided himself on many things unfitting for a man of his status, even his age. he wondered not of your family’s alliances or existing trading partners, but of religion and upbringing. he tsked at mention of your international estates, unless in regard to your memories there. he was complimentary of your attire, less in expense but rather in beauty. changbin wanted to know of your favourite season, and your preferred time of day. who was your favourite poet, and from them your favourite poem. he was obsessed with your knowledge of the world, or rather your interest in it. you had been to neo, but did you really see it, really explore? and if not would you care to? did you prefer sugar or honey in your tea? your bread buttered or oiled? to sleep bare or in silk? he wanted to know what side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, if you were adverse to cuddling and if so, if you could be persuaded.

to be fair, he only spoke with you like this for two reasons. the first being your shared upbringing. after almost two decades of friendship, having you enter his home in the prospect of being his wife didn’t come as a surprise to the young bachelor, but rather a relief. he spent days in and days out discussing family politics, ancestry, and accounts. he chose to ignore the blatant issue there, sharing the intricacies of his family’s wealth and heritage with these ladies from kingdoms and countries he’d been too busy to pay any mind in schooling. he knew his ignorance could come back to bite him and it did, especially as you entered his home looking far prettier than he had ever recalled you looking. he held his tongue before he could whistle, but you could see his smirk all the same. it softened into a grin as he bowed, you returning the pleasantry with a lot less pleasantness than he offered you. he welcomed it all the same. it was why he could be free on this day. speak about the things that would effect you two as one another’s, not you two as one.

your presence also meant he didn’t have to pussyfoot around. he didn’t have to fear your hatred, nor your judgement. though your eyes rolled more than the actual number of potential brides he had become acquainted with. he let f bombs slip, and his guard down. he frolicked with you through the grounds you already knew so well, and guided you through the parts once forbidden to the rambunctious children you once were. he walked you to the kitchen and asked for bread, as opposed to stealing it like you both once would. he tried to describe the estate’s chambers as best he could, detailing the art a then prince hyunjin had gifted him and your childish scratchings still on his door frame.

‘you can see it one day,’ he had whispered under the willow tree on the grounds, watching the way your fingers clung loosely to the weeping leaves. ‘it’s still as it was when we were children.’

‘and how would i do that?’ the question is valid enough, though he frowns, tilting his head. ‘i did not realise i had uttered a riddle, my lord.’

‘well neither had i,’ he tutted, moving to latch onto the same branch you once held. ‘and here i was, assuming you to be the smart one.’

‘i am the smart one.’

‘then answer me this,’ he began, pausing to firmly elaborate, ‘plainly.’ your eyes roll for the umpteenth time at his silent warning before you concede with a nod. ‘how might you see my bed?’

with a sigh you deadpan, ‘if you were to make me your wife.’

‘so to see my bed, and your vandalism-’

‘scribbles.’

‘i must make you my wife.’

‘it seems quite the extreme just to see some old scribbles.’ if changbin senses the hidden meaning to your words, he gave nought away. ‘mightn’t someone just bring me a piece of the bed? i’m sure it’s almost past its use, just peel the pane off. and why still the same bed? you are a young lord of age now, don’t you think-’

‘you know you prattle when you’re nervous?’

‘i do no such thing-’

‘it’s cute.’

‘changbin! how are you so sure i want to be your wife, hm?’ you half questioned, moving away from his looming figure. ‘i only came because your parents asked me here.’

‘y/n, i have known you a long time,’ he punctuates his reminder by closing the distance you so bravely placed between you. ‘if you wished not to be here, you would have found no greater pleasure than to decline the invitation.’ that much is not only true but undeniable. the seo’s was your third courting invite this month alone. you knew, and worse, changbin knew. ‘is it so hard to admit that i might have soften that hardened heart of yours?’

‘i find no pleasure in your games, changbin.’

‘what game, y/n? can a man not just want you?’ your eyes betray you as you try to expel the softness conjured by his taunt. a taunt that is starting to sound less like a taunt, and more like a confession. ‘can i not just want you?’

‘how do i know you want me, bin?’ you pressed, pressing your back to the leaning trunk of the all encompassing tree. ‘how do i know you don’t just want a way out of this endless cycle of mindless heiresses?’

‘you said my parents asked you here?’ your head bobbed as he approached you, nodding in time with you before he stopped a foot before you, smiling eyes gazing right at you. ‘who do you think asked them?’

you were married that fall. under that same willow tree, in the presence of his royal highness and his kin, your family and the seos. the affair was small like you both wanted. small like your needs. you joked marrying you was a cop out, as he spun you around the gardens, escaping the intimate celebrations in the grand banquet hall to enjoy the breeze on your skin and feel the wind in your hair. it was the first time he held you since your dance lessons as kids. where you would lead and he would follow. he once swore he would follow you anywhere. both literally and figuratively. around the grounds of your childhood home, in all your beliefs and ideologies. he filled his mind and self with your gospel and truth, infatuated with your manner of thinking, how you arrived at conclusions. changbin spent his whole childhood falling in love with you.

‘you weren’t a cop out,’ he breathed into the shell of your ear, humming as you lay your head on his shoulder. pressing his lips to your temple he confessed, ‘you were my only choice.’

that night, the two of you consummated your marriage under that same willow tree. his hands clinging to your waist as he ground his hips into you. his tightened breaths filling the drum of your ear with every snap, his lips closing around the skin of your jaw, summoning the most satisfying whines he could draw from you. his lover. his friend. his lady.

in his absence, you remind him of this night. how biting the bark had been on your skin, the autumn air stinging your already teary eyes. his last letter arrived over a fortnight ago, it spoke of his fears at battle, the treacherous methods of his enemies. the only face he prays to see again and until that day, the only face he will dream of. you have sent a handful of letters since then, yet still sour as you awake another day to no news. you sigh as you grab your quill, letting the ink drip before signing off your letter.

‘my dearest, changbin. a season separates us, but only a season could.’

it isn’t long after you seal it that you are summoned to the hwang holiday estate. the royal family have a long history of retreating to the country when the weather is a touch higher than that of luke warm water, or near cool cinder. the seo’s residence is but a short carriage ride from the estate, though a tad longer walk. you often opt to walk as you do today, taking no larger than foot long strides between the cobbled paths. your guard walks in time with you, though no more than a few feet behind. he had never been one for small talk, you quickly came to realise. though, since neither is your husband, you feel an odd sense of relief, normality, even in his absence. you try and enjoy the song of the breeze through the willow, the scent of the king’s rose garden carried on its back. it’s hard over the creak of your guard’s hurried stomps, his pace doubling with every corner you take. you only verbalise your awareness of his impatience when he arrives beside you, hastened to strike the door to announce your arrival.

“master yang,” you call softly as you two await entry. “if i did not know any better, i would say you were rushing me.”

“apologies, my lady,” he confesses, stepping back at your side without any question. though, when he gulps, you eye him with a softened concern. “i was informed you were summoned due to a grave emergency.”

“worry not, jeongin.” you chide, recalling your highness’ idea of an emergency. “the king often calls when the queen is away and he is tasked with matters such as assigning dinner seating.” jeongin looks as if he is about to ask when you add, “she says his involvement humbles him.” when he nods, you straighten as the door swings open, a servant welcoming you in. “yes, there is nothing to fear, master yang.”

only, falser words had never been spoken.

you are quick to note the tremor in the king’s frame as he hurries to stand upon your arrival, rushing you through the official pleasantries of an official summoning. “lady seo.”

“your highness.” you reply, your knee bending as you politely lower your head. “how are you on this fine afternoon-”

“i apologise, y/n. but as you know, i didn’t call you hear on matters of leisure.” he politely interrupts, a flush of embarrassment flooding his cheeks as you frown. “when was last you heard from him?”

“heard from who?”

“from—” hyunjin’s confused gaze cuts to his informants, a few members of his court shying away from him before he marvels at them. “has lady seo not been informed?” when he receives no reply, you feel yourself shrink as the gentle king bellows, “why has lady seo not been informed?”

“informed of what—”

“the order of information begins with yourself sire, before reaching the court, the council, the lady and then the people.”

“i specifically requested she be kept informed. why has she not been kept informed?”

“well, your grace, the lady of a knight is only to be informed once official word is received from the battlefield and delivered to you sire.”

“official word of what—”

“which came through this morning and you are about to deliver the information to the lady.”

“king hyunjin!”

gasps fill the room from all but the king himself. he doesn’t falter, instead he turns to move towards you, his eyes growing more fearful, more earnest as he approaches. he shudders at the thought of delivering this message. he even scolds himself for attempting to delegate such responsibility. you are a friend. not only to the crown, but to the royal family itself. before heavy crowns kissed their heads. before rings ever kissed your knuckles. you were his friend. you had always been a friend to him, and the only time you had ever needed him was now and he had let you down.

“we received word that neo soldiers stormed our fortress in miroh. while we have received word from a few troops who were able to escape, we have yet to ascertain who of the full fleet have made it to safety.” when he pauses to gulp he sees your eyes gleam, breaths shallow. his hands then find yours, gripping your shaky, sweaty digits tightly. “we have received no word from changbin’s troop,” he stops when you gasp, your tears falling, cascading down and around your stained cheeks, your lip trembling. “but we have been able to track a number of our men back through the yellow wood, south of levanter.”

“i-is he there? is he okay?”

“we are yet to hear word,” the tears continue to fall, and he hates himself but all he can do is continue, divulge everything he knows. “they plan to set up camp on the edge of the wood, so i will make my way there now and have word sent back to you as soon as i find him.”

“no,” you refuse, snatching your hands away to drag them over your stained cheeks. “i cannot wait, i will join you.”

“as will i,” jeongin pipes up behind you, his voice an odd comfort once more. “your grace.”

“it is no place for a lady,” hyunjin tries, sighing when you just scowl, already mid curtsey as you preempt his agreement and dismissal. “i will have a carriage sent for you at once.”

“would taking just a horse quicken my arrival?”

“i-it would,” he discloses reluctantly, watching you ready yourself to decline the carriage. “for my sake though,” your scowl returns, ignoring the concern from the king. “i implore you to take the carriage. the yellow wood is far from kind..” you decode his meaning before he ever finishes speaking. the yellow wood is far from safe.

“but is this not the same wood my husband’s troop plans to take, sire?” hyunjin’s nod comes seconds later, shame tensing his jaw. hyunjin is visibly trying to appreciate your patience after having all this information dumped on you. but hyunjin also recalls the threats you readily made and followed through on in your younger years. so much so, he fears the worst of you when you bow before slowly approaching him, voice but a decibel higher than a nat’s buzz to threaten him. the king. before as many witnesses as it takes to have your head. “fine. i will take the carriage.

“but i regret to inform you i have fallen victim to the sick allure of hope. so if this carriage takes him from me? if i am too late? i will burn your kingdom to the ground, jinnie. mark my words.”

only once you leave does hyunjin breathe, noticably shaken by the violent rage existing within the women of his kingdom. “ready her carriage.” he suddenly commands, terrified of letting you down. “i want her there by nightfall.”

hyunjin had not embellished the treachery of this road. you had halted close to ten times in the first six hours of the journey. thanks to forewarning by the king and his council, your guards were prepared to be extra vigilant. weary from all sides of the carriage, bandits who fell from the trees and ambushed from the sides did not live long enough to prevail. from dawn til dusk, the wood falsified night with its woven rotted branches and the gradually setting sun, seeing was becoming more hopeless yet more crucial. without a maid for travelling company and jeongin busy guarding your personage, you were once again left with your thoughts. in times of dire woe, you called on memories of your love, though they read more like dreams. this dream is one that only longing for the man you prayed awaited you on the end of this perilous journey could conjure. because not only do you miss him, you fear for him. not much has changed.

‘you think i am going to get myself killed?’ he breathed, nipping at your clavicle as you rest in his lap. ‘have you no faith in me?’

‘of course i do,’ you defend, gasping as he clamps down, teeth rolling your skin. ‘i just-’

‘you just.. what?’ he doesn’t expect an answer. or so you suspect. especially following a slow drag of your thinly veiled heat over his firmed thigh. ‘you think i would ever abandon you?’

‘no, binnie,’ you start, rising from him with a sigh. ‘i just know you.’

‘you do?’ he ponders sweetly, gazing up at your shining eyes. ‘and what is it you know?’

‘you’re powerful, but far too stubborn.’

‘you know,’ he hums, crossing his thick arms as a small pout steals the lips of the strongest man in the kingdom. ‘for someone who claims to adore me, you tend to speak ill of me every chance you get, my lady.’

‘must the two be exclusive?’ when his frown only deepens, his folded arms tightening, you sigh once more. returning to his spread legs, you perch yourself on them, raising your steady fingers to the creases painting the forehead of the most stubborn man you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. he softens only slightly, his pouted lip closing around yours when you lean in, silently asking his forgiveness. ‘for every ill spoken word, i make up for with countless good, bin.’

‘such as?’ he huffs, knowingly egging you on.

with a small smile, you offer a final peck to his lips before praising the knight beneath you. ‘i know you will fight valiantly.’ you admit, pride permeating right through you to the man you call yours. ‘you will bring honour to your family, to your country.’ with the pads of your fingers, you tuck his hair behind his ear, cooing as he relaxes at your touch. ‘you will be a hero, my love.’

‘and this all worries you?’

‘do you know who will keep your legacy alive, changbin?’ his frown returns at concern for your quivering lip, a sudden fear seeping into your tone. ‘me. your widow.’ he begins to shake his head, a half assed assurance on the tip of his prideful tongue when you remind, ‘it may vex you to hear this, but please remember your knighting was in part an award for your bravery, but also in large part to hyunjin’s love for you.’

‘how can you say that-’

‘since bang chan the brave, name a knight who lived to see his knighting. just one, bin. name one who knelt before their king and felt the sword atop their shoulders. name one who did not die in battle, leaving their grieving widow to accept a meaningless commendation of his honour?’

‘you call your father’s commendation meaningless?’

‘don’t make me laugh, bin.’ your scoff would wound him had you not uttered, ‘i would have rathered he be the one to walk me down the isle the day i married you. knowing my father loved me enough to protect his country is a nice sentiment, but don’t you dare assume i would take that honour over his life.’

‘hey,’ he calls, holding you in his lap as you try to move from him. ‘my love, i didn’t mean to offend.’

‘i know,’ in these seconds you see past the facade, the knight that your husband is. you only see what you fell in love with. you see the compassion, the understanding. ‘bin, i need you to understand. really understand.’ with his cheeks cradled in your palms, you plead with your love. ‘you mean everything to me, seo changbin. before i ever realised you did. i will not let this mindless war take you from me.

‘don’t be a hero, changbin. leave that to some village boy with a chip on his shoulder, with something to prove.’ he nuzzles into your palm as he listens to your plea, gazing into your warning eyes. ‘just come back to me, okay? don’t make me beg.’

‘what if it helped your case?’ he mumbled into your skin, his lips gently puckering as his palms glide up the side of your neck. his tongue slid betwixt your parted lips, trying to exorcise any and all tension from your trembling frame. with another soft pucker of his lips, a suck on your wet muscle has you loosening, falling into him as he moves to embrace you. ‘would you?’

‘do not mock me.’

‘i would never,’ you find this hard to believe as he smirks like a man with ten knives readied for your back. they come as kisses instead, they line the column of your neck, followed closely by his thumbs as he angles your head toward him. ‘you just seem ready to, so i would love to hear it.’

‘perhaps i will marry that lee boy, with the speckled cheeks. i hear the maids think he’s a descendant of fairies, born from the very stars that kiss his face-’ the words halt in your throat as he flips you, firmly pinning you to the goose down.

‘you seem to have thought this through..’

‘have i much choice?’ you huff, glaring at his thoughtful gaze. ‘one tends to ponder such things when faced with their husband’s imminent demise.’ he only sighs, eyes rolling skyward as he asks the gods, old and new, why they ever chose you for him. ‘i hear his line is filled only with beautiful men. who was his ancestor again? minho the something.’

‘you know,’ refusing to come to your aid, he gathering up the hem of your silks. ‘most men would have your head by now.’

‘-magnificent! it was minho the magnificent!’

‘maleficent.’

‘hm?’

‘his name,’ nipping at the exposed skin of your chest, his hand tugs at the starched fabric as he corrects you. ‘it was minho the maleficent.’

‘oh,’ you breathe, less in defeat but rather in sweet contentment. ‘and why is that?’

‘because, my sweet,’ he huffs into your chest, resting on the heels of his palms planted either side of your cushioned head. ‘he burned all of levanter to the ground when his queen died.’

‘yes, he did.’ changbin only strokes the skin of your cheek as you pout, his eyes rolling at your uncanny ability to bring everything back to his encroaching departure. ‘and my husband will not even skip one war for me.’

‘’one war’?’ he smirks, dropping his lips to your exposed breast, tongue sweeping over your teased nipples. ‘you speak as though war is like an evening in a tavern.’

‘both tend to end in regret,’ you jest, or attempt to. it is growing increasingly difficult to barter with him as he presses his lips to your stomach, his body lowering in kind with his touch. before he can disappear entirely from view, you rise. as he rises with you, you are stunned by his rosey cheeks, the flush journeying to his neck as you rest on your elbows. he sees your turmoil. your clear desire for him shadowed painfully by your love and fear. he drops a kiss to your hip, his knuckles dusting the veiled bead of your heat, eyes hard on you as you falter, head lolling to the side before you regain your strength. ‘bin?’

‘hm?’

‘stay.’ it’s faint. so faint he barely recognises it as a plea. he only sighs, his forehead pressed to your abdomen as he purges your wet eyes from his memory. ‘please say you will stay. i cannot bear the thought of a winter without you.’

‘my love,’ changbin speaks into your skin, lowly beseeching your understanding while praying for your peace. ‘a season might separate us,’ he hums, expertly parting your thighs as he offers a lone kiss to your mound. ‘but only a season could.’

“my lady?” jeongin’s voice is first to break you from your nostalgic nightmare. the second is the cries of injured men. “we have arrived.”

the edge of the wood is a wounded minefield. limbless soldiers, knights and footmen alike, are dotted around the dimly lit field. your eyes gloss over at the heaped bodies, and water at the stench. “how long have they been here?”

“just under a week,” jeongin recalls, holding his hand out to stop you as medics pass with a burnt body on a stretcher. “it is hard to believe this is the winning camp.”

“there are no winners in war, jeongin.” you whisper, watching a man close the eyes of his fallen comrade a pair approach to drop his body in a mass grave. a fight ensues. “only loss.”

“y/n?” you halt at the call, half sprinting at the sight of han jisung, wearing a smile warm enough to light the night. “i thought his highness was jesting when he said you’d be here.”

“han!” you cried, latching onto him with a grip that nearly winded him. “thank god, thank god.”

“more like thank changbin,” he wheezed, squeezing you back just as tight, lifting you a few feet off the ground. “had he not been here, i would have surely-”

“where is he?”

“-died.” he only grins as you stiffen, recognising his part in your terror a second too late. “oh! no! he isn’t dead! he is alive! very alive!” his eyes flicker to a scowling jeongin, gulping down an apology as he gestures to his left. “come.”

further from the wood and slowly decaying corpses are the tents. some somehow less grand than a teepee, some spacious enough for a few hours sleep. jisung guides you both up to the largest of the lot, where you find an ill tempered king hyunjin growing increasingly more so. “no, leave him be.”

“had we known you were coming your grace- we can have him moved immediately.”

“your king gave you an order, soldier.” jisung chimes in, tongue slotting into the swell of his cheek as he gestures to you over his shoulder. “now move out of the way or i’ll have you explain to lady seo why she can’t see her husband on account of your insubordinance.”

“yes, sir.”

hyunjin bristles at jisung’s ability to command his men with little effort before he softens at your restless gaze. “he’s been asking for you.”

the grandeur of the king’s tent suits changbin well, you think. a fire crackles at the furthest end, masked only by a large canopy where you know he rests. the four poster bed takes up most of the space, and around it lays tin bowls, rags, blankets and water. the room seems barely lived in bar the knight whose faint breaths float toward you through the warm air. you feel yourself stalling, too busy taking in the space to recognise your fear. what will you find when you pull the curtain away? what remains of your husband, your lover, your friend? will he still have the same warm eyes and full cheeks? will his hands still fit in yours? his feet still step in time with yours? will he look the same, sound the same even? you swallow down this fear, and instead bask in the joy that he’s alive. your husband is alive. and nothing separates you. not a season, nor a wood. not time or conflict. only your fears.

and then they don’t. when you pull back the veil, nothing separates you but air. a soft man made gust as you reveal the man you’d once called your friend, only to call your betrothed and then yours. the fire barely lights the room yet still he glows. he lies bare from the waist up, his abdomen bandaged in rolls of cotton, his chest exposed. you watch it, the slow rise and fall of the place you longed to rest your head, you dreamt of dreaming on. before you realise, you have lowered yourself beside him, careful not to disturb him, nor his wound. before you can call for him he smiles. even in his state of slumber, he leans into your touch. before you meet his eyes, you feel his on you.

“you came.” he whispers, a heavy breath of relief escaping him as your thumb dusts his cheek.

“of course,” you try, before taking your lip between your teeth, fearful your tears might dampen his skin. you kneel at his side, carefully ridding yourself of your outer garments, before returning your hand to his cheek. “how do you feel?”

“now?” he smirks, wincing as a laugh runs through him. “wonderful.”

“and before?”

“so, so.” he murmurs with a kiss to your palm. “a sword to the stomach will do that to you.”

“do i have han jisung to thank for that?”

“no,” he coughs, recalling his sacrifice. “only me.”

“well that’s good,” you hum, employing the upmost care when leaning over him. “because i would hate to think my knight was blindsided.”

“never,” his assurance fans your lips, as yours hover over his. “only by you.”

you almost forgot how it felt to kiss him. the feeling only coming in dreams. there was no memory strong enough to conjure the feeling of his lips pressed against yours. the slow melt of tender skin on skin, the warmth, his gentle caress. his kiss is slow, but even in his prime he took his time. his lips close around yours with such timing and precision, ushering a slow burn of desire from the heels of your feet all the way up to the crown of your head. he knew how to expunge pain and fear from you, to free you from your demons, to reinvigorate you. to love you.

he’s weak. in all the worst ways. his body, his will. he raises his hand to your neck, pulling you closer as he presses his tongue between your lips, connecting the muscles with little intent of parting. he swallows around you, drinking you in, keeping that same, slow and teasing pace. only to pull you closer.

“you need your rest,” you pant into his mouth, resting all your weight on your arms as he pulls you back down, pinning your forehead to his.

“no,” he refuses, sweeping his thumb along your jaw. “i need you.” his voice shakes then, unlike him. unlike the man you know. “only you.”

“is that why you called me here?” you tease, silently wiping his tears away, silently reading the fear in his eyes. he begs them away though warms at your easy dispelling. “to use me?”

“my love,” he laughs, ignoring the pain in favour of basking in your smile. “you know i did not call for you.” when you move to argue, he recalls, as if he were there, “‘would taking just a horse quicken my arrival?’”

“i might have been here sooner if-”

“this,” raising his other arm, he gathers your face in his palms, “is soon enough.”

safe.

“okay.” you agree, allowing him to tug you closer once more. you let him kiss you without restraint. you let him curl his fingers into your neck, ignoring his wincing and kiss him through it. you let his grunts mask his pain, his teeth rolling your lip between the rows, you let him share it. you let him have you, because despite the odds he stayed alive. he stayed alive for you. and that was enough. “i love you.”

he blinks up at your shining eyes, guiding your wet cheeks to his puckered lips. “i love you,” he whispers back against your lips, feeling himself heal at just the touch of your hand. “only you.”

because only a season separated you. but now, not even a season could.

[iamtwilighttrash]

My Breaking Dawn

*warnings: mention of sex, minor cursing  

(Stephenie Meyer owns this series and it’s characters)

Chapter Two

Jacob dropped me back home at 7:30. The sky had begun to change from overcast blue to a muted pink, and together we watched from my small front porch as the sunset blossomed.

“You have fun tonight, Bells. I mean it. I’ll see you tomorrow!” He was eager to go to the Bachelor Party— I could see the anticipation shining in his eyes. He turned to rush off but I gripped his sleeve, stopping him in his tracks.

“Our last normal human day and I don’t even get a hug goodnight? Asshole.” Thoroughly chastised, he grinned and ducked his head before swooping me up in a crushing bear hug.

“Sorry, Bella. Love you like crazy.” I laughed when, at last, I was able to breathe again.

“Love you too, Jake. Get outta here you crazy wolf,” I teased, sticking my tongue out. He rolled his eyes but jogged to his bike. I was barely inside the house when the engine roared to life and he was tearing down the street.

“Was that Jake?” My dad’s voice, so close, startled me so much that I nearly jumped through my skin.

“Agh! Dad!” Charlie, soda in hand, leaned against the entryway to the kitchen and patted my head as I scowled at him. “Why are you still home?” He had made arrangements to stay over at Billy’s so that my party could take place at our house; Alice had nearly hugged him off his feet when he’d grudgingly agreed. 

“Sorry, Bells,” he said gruffly. “I just wanted to make sure that you got here safe, wasn’t tryin’ to give you a heart attack.” There was a little smile peeking on the corner of his mouth. I rolled my eyes, but felt deeply touched by the notion that he had wanted to make sure I made it safely.

“It’s okay. Yeah, that was Jake. He swung by the Cullens earlier to, er, spend time with me before I...got married.” But it was so much more than that. Soon, I would no longer be human. Neither Jake nor I knew what the future would hold after I was turned. 

“Well, I hope you too had a nice time. I know you promised me this before, but I just wanted to make sure that tonight-” 

“No drinking, no strippers, no damage?” I teased. Charlie reddened, all too easy to embarrass, and I giggled in passing as I veered towards to fridge. It was dinnertime for the human. Imagining that in Edward’s voice made me smile bigger in remembrance, and then blush at the thought of what was soon to come. Silly, silly girl. Ruled by your hormones. After rummaging through the fridge, I turned to assemble a grilled cheese and tomato soup. Comfort food. Comfort food for the fear of my wedding, but also to ease the anxiety of the party Alice was about to subject me too. Charlie watched me as I methodically sliced cheese, oiled a pan, and butter bread. 

“Do ya think you could make me one of those to go?” I flashed him a grin. 

“Going to miss having me around to cook?” 

“A little.” He seated himself at the table. The realization hit me hard; this was it. This was the last time I would be human, eating dinner with my father in his shabby kitchen. I would no longer be able to hug him without wanting to kill him. 

My dad, my biggest supporter, and he would have to fear for his life around me.

“Bells, what’s the matter?” The tomato soup was started to scald to the pan. I quickly moved to stir it. 

 “Just nervous.” With my back turned, I hoped he could accept the lie. 

“Bella.” The firmness made me turn to look at him, our eyes locked. “I know I might not have acted the right way, you know, when you first told me. But I...” Both of our cheeks were on fire. The pregnancy accusation. “I want you to know that I’m happy you’re marrying Edward. When I see you look at each other, well,” he got a sad look on his face, and swiped a hand through his hair, “I remember how I used to feel when I looked at your mom.” My vision blurred through surprised tears. “Me and your mom didn’t work out, but I know what it feels to be in love. And you’re not like me, Bells, or her. You’re strong, and determined, and if you and Edward have a problem you’ll fight to fix it. He’s different too. I can tell...well, aside from when I almost killed him for running off... that he’s going to be a good man to you. I just wanted you to know that.”

I walked over, bent down to hug him tight. I had not spent enough time hugging Charlie; I knew that now that my human life would soon be over. But, I resolved to not feel guilt, and instead served up our grilled cheese, listened to my father talk about his day, and spent a few precious last moments with someone I loved. 

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

Angela threw her pillow towards Alice in disbelief, shocked but giggling at the question. Alice feigned an OUCH! at the pillow’s impact, and cast me a sly wink. I was flushing just as hard as Angela, and the question hadn’t even been directed towards me. 

“Alice! So not fair to put me on the spot like!” 

“Asking if you and your long-time boyfriend have had sex is not an unfair question! It’s a Bachelorette party!” Rosalie let out a little laugh as well, and Leah smirked from her perch on the arm of my love-seat. 

“Agh, alright. Yes. We have.” Everyone let out a girlish squeal of excitement. I was a little shocked; was I the only virgin I knew besides Edward? Not that virginity mattered much to me, but it was still a little surprising. I was no prude, and I fully accepted that people in high school had a lot of sex; I had heard all of the almost comical story of Jessica  losing her virginity to Mike, which Edward had complained about to me in his car after school-- The details were so much worse in her head, love. You have no idea how lucky you are. -- but I still had not heard about Angela and Ben. 

“How was it? When was it?” 

“About a month ago. And it was,” she gave us a lewd eyebrow wiggle, “phenomenal.” All of the other girls, myself included, let out obnoxiously loud laughs. “But enough about me. Bella.” Oh no. I knew it was coming. “What about you and Edward?” 

“Ah...well...we both decided to wait. Until after...marriage.” I had struggled for a moment, fumbling on the words. I thought that my skin was ablaze. 

“Oh man, I don’t know how you guys managed!” Alice teased. I gave her a look. Angela gripped my hand.

“Does that mean that tomorrow...the honeymoon...” As my cheeks darkened and I bobbed my head in a shy nod, Angela smiled. “That’s so romantic!”

“Nervous?” asked Rosalie. Her gentle fingers were busy braiding Leah’s shoulder-length hair, but both of them gave me their full attention. Leah was flipping through the pages of an old magazine that my dad kept on the coffee table. I knew she would rather be out in the woods, out with her pack, but the fact that she chose to be with me made my lips curl on their own accord.

“Rose...” I scolded, half-serious. She gave me an innocent look. I sighed, taking a sip of the soda to my left. The carbonation had all but evaporated, but the liquid soothed the dryness of my tongue. Soon, human food would mean nothing to me. I indulged in another watered down sip. “I guess...” I looked around. These were my friends. I had to stop being so embarrassed about sex when I was the one who had begged Edward to have it. “Yes. Yes, I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be,” said Leah. There was always a bite to her tone but I knew she meant the words with kindness.

“Yeah, Bella,” Alice scooted over to give me a one-armed hug; as always, the coolness of her body settled me. “You’ll be okay. I’ve packed some...um...helpful things in your suitcase.” The blush came rushing back with a vengeance. Angela guffawed into the crook of her elbow. Rosalie smirked, tying of Leah’s braids skillfully.

“Oh my God, Alice!”

“Oh, don’t panic Bella!” My almost-sister-in-law nudged me. “I can almost be certain you’ll thank me later.” The wink almost pushed me over the edge.

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

It was hours later, alone in my own bed, that the true gravity of my situation hit me. I was about to be married woman, say goodbye to my human family and friends, lose my virginity, and become a vampire. Isabella Swan was being shredded to pieces and rebuilt: Bella Cullen. Beautiful, hopefully graceful, and bloodthirsty Bella Cullen, who could wrestle with mountain lions and play baseball during thunder storms and race werewolves. Newborn Bella Cullen, who would have bright red eyes and uncontrollable thirst.

Was I ready to say goodbye to Isabella Swan? Was I ready to walk away from my parents and Angela and possibly even Jacob?

On my desk, I could just make out the photograph of Edward and I that we had taken over summer. Even with my dull human senses, his beauty stood out in the darkness. My heart thumped.

Yes. Yes, I was ready. For an eternity with him, there was nothing I wouldn’t do.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Interrupting ‘I Do’

Tony Stark x Reader

Words: 2602

Summary: When your wedding day is under attack, you have a little more to worry about than the reception. Tony and you are separated when a bomb goes off and have to find a way back to each other. 

Notes: Yes, Tony Stark has taken over my Tumblr, why do you ask?

-

It was the biggest event of the season. Tony Stark’s wedding. Well, it was your wedding too, but you were often left out of the headlines. Not that you cared. The journalists and magazines were more Tony’s thing. You were just a lawyer from Brooklyn that he’d met at a fundraiser event four years ago. 

The mimosa in your hand was meant to calm your nerves, but everything still set you on edge. It was all still pretty surreal, from the gorgeous ring on your finger to the beautiful venue. It was a large tent looking over the Hamptons. A part of you still dreamed of the church around the corner from your childhood home. But you couldn’t complain. 

“Earth to Y/N?” Your maid of honor Kat waved her hand in front of your face. “What do you think?” You looked in the mirror at your hair that she’d been styling for the past two hours. One more weight lifted off your shoulders and you checked off hair and makeup on your mental checklist. Taking another sip of the mimosa, you paced to the hotel suite window. Behind, your bridesmaids chatted and laughed as they did their own makeup. 

Your cell phone began to ring and kat snatched it off of the table before you could see who it was. 

“Gold Diggers Incorporated, this is Katherine speaking.” She snickered. You shot her a death glare. “Oh hey, Tony!” 

“Kat, can I please speak to my fiance?” Tony asked patiently on the other end. She gave you a mischievous smirk. 

“I don’t know… she’s still a little busy with her bachelorette party gift. He’s- oops-” She giggled, “I mean it’s a blast.” You pried your phone away rolling your eyes. 

“Hey,” You greeted. You felt like a high school girl with butterflies stirring in your stomach. “She’s kidding.” You clarified and he chuckled. 

“You mean you don’t have a male stripper hiding in your closet?” He teased. “Damn, I was hoping for a lap dance.” Just hearing his voice made your nerves fade if only a little. “Come out to the balcony.” 

You could sense his cheeky grin and you smiled, stepping out onto the balcony as he said. You expected a note or something, but nothing was there. 

“Okay, I’m out here.” You shrugged, looking around. There was a loud sound and a flash of red and gold scooped you off the ground, causing you to let out a surprised yelp. 

“If you mess up her hair Tony, I swear to God, I’m going to kill you!” Kat shouted after you as he launched off of the balcony, lifting you into the air. You soared over the beach as workers bustled around below you. You landed on a cliff down the beach from the tent and saw a picnic blanket folded beside a basket and a bottle of wine. A car was parked just down the hill. 

“It’s a little early, don’t you think.” You motioned to the wine as he set you on your feet. 

“I figured this could be an exception.” He said through the helmet. “I’ll be right back.” He trekked down to the car, going in one door and coming out on the other side, the suit stripped away, revealing dark jeans and an old rock band t-shirt. As much as you loved seeing him in a tux, it was his casual, more at home attire you like best. 

“Morning.” You raised an eyebrow, earning a wink. “What’s all this about?” 

“Is it a crime to want breakfast with my soon to be wife?” He asked with his usual level of snark. 

“You know it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.” You pointed out as he laid out the blanket. 

“I don’t believe in bad luck.” Tony shrugged. He sat down and poured you a glass of wine. “97 Pinot Noir. It’s the wine-”

“We had on our first date.” You finished with a smile. “I can’t believe you remembered.” You sat beside him and looked at the horizon. 

“This still seems kind of unreal.” He admitted, pulling out a package of strawberries and some muffins. “Not in a bad way, obviously.”

“I know what you mean.” You laid your head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around you. “By the end of today… I'll be Mrs. Stark.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your face. 

“I like the sound of that.” 

-

After breakfast, the two of you drove back to the hotel and finished getting ready. Rhodey made sure Tony didn’t wander around and cause any mischief, taking him back to his room so he could put on his tux. You made another mental note to thank him for his help. 

By noon, it was time to head over the ceremony, spiking your nerves all over again. You were marrying Tony Stark. Pictures would be in every tabloid in New York, flattering or not. Basically, every woman over the age of twenty would build an opinion on the woman who tamed America’s Number One Bachelor, and they would not be afraid to voice it on all media platforms. 

As the limo neared, photographers stood in line, anxiously awaiting to take the photo that would define your stance in the public eye. You put a hand on Kat’s arm. 

“I can’t do this.” You gasped, all of the breath leaving your lungs. Before she could respond, the photographers switched their focus to the sky. The flashes of their cameras reflected against the gold and hot-rod-red metal as Iron Man landed before them in a dramatic hero pose. 

It was then you remembered that you weren’t just marrying Tony- you were also marrying the suit. You were marrying Iron Man and all the worry that comes with him. Even when you were dating, you constantly wondered if Tony would come home every time he flew off. 

Tony stepped out of the suit with his classically recognizable smile on his face. You let out a breath of awe. He knew how to work a crowd. He held up his hands. 

“Alright guys, this isn’t another fundraiser gala. I’m going to have to ask all of you to wait until after the wedding to get more pictures.” Everyone tried to object as security ushered them away. Tony turned to the limo and gave the driver a thumbs up. 

“He had to make his entrance.” Kat snorted. You felt yourself blush and watched him disappear into the tent. 

“He knew.” You beamed. He knew how much you hated the press, so he gave them a taste with his entrance so they would leave you alone. You couldn’t imagine a better man to marry. 

You stood outside as the groomsmen and bridesmaids entered, ending with Rhodey and Kat. Then was Pepper, without whom this day wouldn’t have happened. You had insisted that she enter with the rest of the wedding party and be recognized for everything she had done for the two of you. 

“You look amazing.” Happy grinned at you as you took his arm. When you’d asked Happy to give you away, he’d never looked so, well, happy. “Are you ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” The opening of the tent was drawn back and the music swelled, lights twinkling all around you. All of the guests stood- all close friends of either you or Tony. Neither of you really had any family left. But none of them mattered, at least not in that moment. 

All that mattered was him as he turned around to see you. Tony’s eyes filled with more light than you’d ever seen before and there was no smugness or playboy charm in his smile. It was just complete and utter joy. 

“Wow.” He gasped breathlessly. Every discovery, every invention, every flight in the suit paled in comparison to how he felt in that moment. 

You were halfway down the aisle when you heard it. It was faint and barely noticeable below the music. Rhodey shifted uncomfortably as unfamiliar faces stood moved from the seats. He put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and his expression said more than words could have. Tony turned back to you and his eyes held something else entirely: fear. As he reached his hand out to you, he shouted:

“Y/N!” 

The first explosion took out the far left wooden beam holding up the tent, causing the entire side to collapse in on itself. The blast left a ringing in your ear, consuming all other sounds. You couldn’t even hear yourself screaming. 

Happy acted quickly, pulling you through the frantic crowd. With the smoke and fire and hoard of running guests, you’d lost sight of Tony. You were a few feet away from the exit when the second bomb went off. The impact knocked you away from Happy and into another post, and you were quickly buried in a pile of wood and rubble. 

-

When you woke up, you could hardly breathe. A cloth sack had been placed over your head and your ears were still ringing. You could just make out the voices around you as the vehicle you were in continued down a bumpy road. What cut through the most was the voice on the radio, broadcasting the latest events. 

“It’s just in, owner of Stark Industries and famed face of Iron Man, Tony Stark’s wedding has been the subject of a massive terrorist attack. Mere hours ago, three bombs detonated in the canopy where the ceremony was being held. While Mr. Stark was able to escape the wreckage in the Iron Man suit, his bride-to-be Y/F/N Y/L/N has not yet been found.” 

“How much traffic can there possibly be in the goddamn city?” Someone, presumably the driver, exclaimed. 

“Relax, we’re almost there.” Another voice growled. The van came to a stop and you were dragged out and forced into a chair. Finally, the sack was removed and you observed your captures and your surroundings. 

“Welcome, Mrs. Stark.” One sneered. His accent was thick and you recognized it as Russian. 

“Well, not yet.” You corrected bitterly. “You made sure of that.” He smirked, narrowing his eyes. 

“You’re very pretty. I can see why he likes you.”

“You really think so?” You said with sarcastic flattery. He placed a toothpick in his mouth and couched in front of you. 

“Tony Stark stole everything from me.” He hissed. “I saved you from marrying him, little bird.” You pouted your lips. 

“But he’s got such a nice ass.” You snarked, earning a hard slap. You ignored the sting in your cheek and looked at the man more closely. “Wait a second, I know you. You’re the guy who attacked Tony on the racetrack three months ago. Ivan… something.” 

“Ivan Vanko.” His demeanor was calm and that’s what scared you. If he was screaming and cursing, you could use his own anger as a distraction. But his collected manner meant that he already had what he wanted. 

“What do you want?” You finally let the fear set in and Ivan could see it. 

“An acquaintance wants the suit,” He began, “He suggested that you may have answers. After that, he says that I may exact my revenge on Stark.”

“So you’re just the lackey.” You snickered, pretending that you felt less threatened. You looked around at his fellow goons. One of them had his arms crossed, but you could just see the watch on his wrist. A certain familiar logo decorated its face. 

“Hammertech?” You snorted. “You’re working for Hammertech?” The other men shifted a sudden look of panic on their faces. “You know that Justin Hammer is an idiot, right?” 

“Hammer helped me get here, but I do not work for him.” Ivan picked up a blow torch, lighting it far too near your face. “You are going to burn, little bird.” You closed your eyes, waiting for the white-hot pain… but none came. Instead, there was a loud crash. 

“Hold it, Korshunov.” When you opened your eyes, there was Iron Man, slowly looking up at Ivan from his crouched landing position.

  “Tony,” You gasped with joyous relief.

“The Metal Man,” Ivan growled. Tony blasted the other men before they could even raise their weapons. Ivan stood behind you, lifting your face up by your hair and putting the blow torch next to your eye. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Tony warned. 

“Why’s that?” Ivan laughed. “As you say, I am holding the cards.” Removing his mask, Tony sucked air between his teeth in a snarky cringe. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t come alone.” 

“Drop the blow torch or we blow the building.” Rhodey threatened a missile loaded arm aim Ivan’s skull. He just smiled and grabbed another device from his pocket. 

“Too late.” He pressed the button on the device and ran, dodging Rhodey’s shots and vanishing. 

“Uh… Tony,” Rhodey looked down at the chair you were strapped to. “We’ve got a problem.” Tony rushed over and the two examined the bomb. 

“Okay honey, don’t panic,” Tony said slowly as the two quickly tried to undo your restraints. 

“How much time is there?” You asked, hearing the dreadful tick of the explosive. Neither man responded. “Tony!”

“As of now… 40 seconds, but don’t worry, I’m getting you out.” He carefully used the repulsors to seer through the ropes. You could feel the heat nearly graze your skin. You tried to keep yourself from counting down the seconds. 

“Tony,” Rhodey urged nervously. 

“Go after Vanko, I’ll get her,” Tony ordered. Rhodey launched out of the warehouse to get a better view. 

“Got it!” Tony exclaimed, quickly taking you in his arms. “Hold on tight.” His mask closed and he took off just in time for the explosion. 

Tony landed on a nearby rooftop and couldn’t bring himself to let you go. He just held onto you and your now singed dress like he would never let you go for as long as you lived. 

“Now what?” You muttered breathlessly. As you collected your bearings, you could see the neighborhood around you now cast into chaos. It was the neighborhood that you grew up in. And a few blocks away was the little white chapel. Tony followed your gaze a smiled. 

“I mean…” He gave you a smirk with the ‘I have an idea’ look in his eyes. “I don’t know about you, but this has got to be fate.” 

“What about the big white wedding with the tuxes and the dress and the crowds of people.” You stuttered. “I thought that’s what you wanted.” Tony just chuckled. And pushed your wild, messy hair out of your face. 

“Y/N, I don’t care about any of that.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “I just want to marry you.” You smiled brighter than you ever had before. 

“Then let’s do this.” 

-

There were no journalists this time. No photographers calling out your name or disapproving groupies to worry about. Beside you stood only Pepper and Rhodey as witnesses- Rhodey having turned Vanko into custody and Pepper looking happy, but not surprised in how everything turned out. 

And then there was Tony. Your wonderful, brilliant Tony, standing in front of you in the Iron Man suit. He looked at you like you were the sun even as you stood there in your tattered and charred dress. For that moment, there was no one else in the world. 

And as Tony said those famous two words, despite the bombs and the kidnapping, you couldn’t imagine a better way to say “I do.”