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differentpostrebel · 5 days ago

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Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

.Chapter 48, part 2: Veil of Betrayal

A/N: We are back with a new chapter! This is the continuation of Chapter 48, since I divided it into 2 parts. Here we see the lines of defiance slowly beginning to crumble, and we get a shocking revelation, from who… Thank you guys so much for liking, commenting, and reblogging! I will be posting a teaser for tomorrow's chapter tomorrow along with the chapter. And without further ado, let the adventure begin!

Word Count: 4.7k

Sanji x Reader, Sanji x Y/N, One Piece X Reader

Time passed, and I found myself in the château’s medical ward. “Shit, what happened?” I groaned, feeling like I had been hit by a battering ram.. again. Every muscle in my body ached, especially my head, where a dull throbbing pain persisted. I attempted to sit up, but the pain intensified, forcing me back down.

Just then, Reiju walked into the room, her expression unreadable. "Are you alright?" she asked, approaching the bed.

"What happened?" I muttered, trying to piece together the events. The last thing I remembered was walking down the stairs, and then... nothing. “Was I attacked?” I thought out loud, the fragmented memories swirling in my mind.

Reiju’s gaze flickered with something I couldn’t place. “We were told you fell down the stairs and were knocked unconscious,” she replied calmly.

“Cut the crap,” I snapped, frustration lacing my voice. “I didn’t just fall. I was attacked.” The pain was becoming unbearable, and I gritted my teeth. “Shit, why?”

I instinctively reached for my blade and thigh halter, but as I searched around me, I realized it wasn’t there. “My blade!” I exclaimed, panic rising. I searched the bed frantically, but it was nowhere to be found. "Great, now I’ve got to find that too," I thought bitterly.

Reiju sighed softly and approached me with a calmer demeanor. "I also came to get you ready for your wedding dress fitting," she said, her tone cautious.

"Hell no!" I yelled, gripping my head as the pain surged again. "I’m not playing dress-up. I have important things I need to do," I gritted out, but the pain made it impossible to move as freely as I wanted. "Son of a bitch," I cursed, frustrated with the entire situation.

Reiju, unfazed by my resistance, handed me some medicine. “Here, take these. They’ll help with the pain and heal you faster,” she said, holding out a glass of water.

Reluctantly, I took the pills, glaring at her as I swallowed them down.

“Are you always this stubborn?” Reiju asked as I handed back the glass of water.

“All day, every day,” I replied, causing her to smile.

“Do I really have to go to this dress fitting?” I groaned, half-heartedly.

“Unfortunately, yes. But don’t worry, it’ll be quick, and you can rest in your room until it’s deemed fit,” she assured me.

Reiju and I may not have known each other well, but she had saved my captain, and now she was helping me with this pain. For that, I was grateful. “Okay, I’ll do it, but after that, I’m finding my crew, and also resting because this pain is just too much,” I added, trying to keep the mood light as we made our way out of the medical ward and into the calicoat. After some time, we finally arrived at the bridal shop.

A bell chimed as we entered, and a cheerful voice greeted us. “Welcome to Dreams in Lace Bridal Boutique, do you have an appointment?”

Reiju stepped forward confidently. “It’s under Vinsmoke.”

“Ahh yes, right this way!” The shopkeeper led us to a private area filled with elegant dresses. “And you must be the lovely bride-to-be,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I managed a small smile in return. “Aww, she’s shy,” she teased.

“Far from it,” I shot back through gritted teeth, trying to mask my nerves.

“Okay, well, these five dresses were selected, along with some for the after-party. Let’s try them on!” she announced cheerfully.

The first dress did nothing for me, and I immediately shook my head, saying, "No."

The second dress was form-fitted in the front but too big at the waist—another no. The third dress was another disappointment, and the fourth dress looked all over the place.

"Reiju, these dresses aren’t it for me," I sighed, beginning to put on the fifth dress.

"Don't worry," she assured me, popping a bottle of champagne, "I just know you’ll love this one."

As I stepped out, my heart raced, and I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. The dress hugged my body perfectly, the off-the-shoulder lace long sleeves making me feel both elegant and daring. The plunging neckline added just the right amount of allure, while the fabric cinched at the waist highlighted my figure.

The bottom of the dress flowed gracefully around me, a small train trailing behind like a whisper of sophistication. Adorned with delicate lace, glimmering pearls, and sparkling stones, it was breathtaking—a true testament to beauty.

Just as I was lost in the mesmerizing vision before me, the woman gently placed a veil over my head, completing the look. As I looked at my reflection again, I barely recognized myself.

“This one’s perfect,” Reiju said, handing me a champagne glass. I could barely focus on the drink as I admired the way the dress hugged me. “Wonderful! Now there won’t be any retouches; she fits perfectly in this dress. But it should be ready for the wedding,” she added, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Perfect, the wedding is tomorrow,” Reiju announced, and I nearly choked on my drink.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I managed to gasp, my heart racing.

“Sanji wanted his wedding with Pudding to happen tomorrow,” she explained, her tone almost casual. “And since you and Ichiji are set to marry as well before Sanji, that pushed everything up.”

“Why would he…?” I thought, feeling a knot form in my stomach. “He told me he wasn’t going to marry Pudding.” Confusion washed over me as I tried to process her words. “What changed?”

Before I could voice my questions, Reiju was already dragging me away to remove the dress. Panic surged through me. I gotta find Luffy then before it’s too late, I thought, urgency propelling me forward.

As we stepped out of the dressing room, I glanced back at my reflection one last time, still feeling the weight of the news. “Now, let’s look at other fits…” Reiju said, a smirk playing on her lips. The hint of mischief in her expression only added to my frustration. Once we finished with the wedding dress and the after-party dress, Reiju had a brilliant idea—to have me shop for other essentials usually reserved for the after-after wedding reception.

She handed me three bags, each filled with outfits that would keep the celebrations going long into the night. As we made our way back to the calicoat and headed toward Big Mom’s château, my mind raced with thoughts of how to escape this chaotic whirlwind.

Upon arriving, I hurried up the stairs to my floor, the weight of the bags in my arms becoming a comforting distraction from the turmoil of emotions. As soon as I opened the door, I dropped the bags with a soft thud.

But just as I was about to look for my stolen blade, I froze. Ichiji was already in my room, lounging casually as if he owned the place.

“How the hell did you manage to get in?” I exclaimed, my surprise mingling with irritation.

Ichiji smirked, leaning back against the wall. “I have my ways,” he replied, a cocky confidence in his voice.

Ichiji smirked as he walked forward, causing me to hit the wall behind me. The sudden impact made my breath hitch, and I felt my heart race. “I believe last night you did say we were going to discuss the matter of punishments,” he said, his voice low and teasing, his gaze locked onto mine.

My pulse quickened at the way he said it, a mix of challenge and something dangerously alluring. His fingers began to glide along my leg, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through me. “And I have a few ideas in mind that will be more than enough,” he added, pulling me closer to him, his presence overwhelming.

I swallowed hard, feigning confidence as I replied, “And what ideas might those be?” The words came out a little shaky, but I was determined not to show weakness.

Ichiji's smirk widened, and there was a glimmer of desire in his eyes. “Well, let’s just say I have some creative ways to remind you of your place,” he purred, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my skin.

“Creative, huh?” I shot back, trying to sound nonchalant despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. “Like what? You planning on writing me a love poem?”

He chuckled softly, a dark, rich sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Oh, it’ll be much more than that.” He stepped even closer, his body almost pressed against mine, and I felt the heat radiating off him. “I want to make sure you remember exactly who you belong to, Y/N.”

The way he said my name sent a jolt through me. I couldn’t deny the effect he had on me, and as much as I wanted to resist, a part of me was undeniably drawn to his intensity. “Is that so?” I challenged, raising an eyebrow. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Ichiji leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Let’s just say I’m a firm believer in hands-on learning.” The heat of his breath sent a thrill coursing through me, and my resolve began to waver. “Perhaps some physical reminders will help you understand just how serious I am.”

In one swift motion, he hoisted me into the air, my legs wrapping around his frame, my back pressed against the wall with no room for escape. “Easy there, tiger,” I managed to say, trying to maintain some composure.

“Tiger?” Ichiji replied with a smirk, his gaze glinting with playful mischief. “I like that nickname you gave me, princess.” His tone was teasing, and it sent a flush of heat through me.

“Yeah? Well, it was just a joke,” I retorted, attempting to push him back gently as I moved toward my bed, trying to create some space between us. “I’m going to rest a bit,” I said, hoping that would signal him to back off. But Ichiji took it as an invitation.

“Perfect! I’ll join you,” he declared, his playful grin widening as he began unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing his chiseled abs and toned muscles. My breath caught at the sight, and I quickly turned away, attempting to shield myself from the undeniable allure he exuded.

“This wasn’t an invite,” I shot back, grabbing my blanket and wrapping it tightly around me, as if it could provide a barrier against his charm.

Ichiji only chuckled, unfazed by my protest. He settled beside me, propping himself up on one elbow, and effortlessly pulled me closer to his chest. “You know, you can’t just push me away like that,” he teased, amusement evident in his voice. “It makes me want to stay even more.”

“Seriously, Ichiji,” I protested, though the heat radiating from him was nearly impossible to ignore.

“Relax, princess,” he replied, his voice low and inviting as he pressed a soft kiss against my neck. I couldn’t help but involuntarily lift my arm in response, a shiver coursing through me as I felt my heart race at his touch. “I’m not going to bite… much,” he added, the sultriness of his voice making it hard to think straight.

The warmth of his breath sent tingles down my spine, and I stifled a small moan as he continued to explore my skin with his lips. “Ichiji,” I managed to say, but my voice was barely above a whisper, drowned out by the sensations he was creating.

Not satisfied with my lack of response, he snaked his hand under the blanket, his fingers grazing my thigh in a way that was both teasing and electrifying. The touch ignited a rush of heat within me, and I bit my lip to stifle another sound, my mind racing in confusion and desire.

“Now let’s rest,” he said casually, as if he had all the time in the world. He settled next to me with a confidence that was almost disarming, his tattooed arm curling around me and pulling me closer against his warm body. Despite the chaos swirling in my thoughts, I felt the tension in my chest beginning to melt away.

His skin felt warm against mine, and I could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, soothing yet exhilarating. “There’s more of that coming soon,” he added, his tone suggestive, as if promising untold pleasures that awaited us.

“Why are you like this?” I asked, even though a part of me didn’t want to push him away. “You know this isn’t right.”

Ichiji chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Right and wrong don’t matter much when you’re drawn to someone. You can fight it, or you can enjoy the ride.” His eyes sparkled with mischief and something deeper, an intensity that made it hard to resist.

“Maybe a few minutes of resting will do me good,” I admitted, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to me. The warmth of his body beside me and the steady beat of his heart became a soothing lullaby, and as I slowly fell back into slumber, I felt his presence wrap around me like a comforting blanket, making it all too easy to drift away.

Hours passed, and Ichiji was still beside me. The soft light filtering through the curtains cast a peaceful glow over his features, and for a moment, I allowed myself to study him closely. His usual stern expression was replaced by something much softer in sleep, and I found myself drawn to the intricate design of his tattoo. Slowly, without thinking, I traced the lines with my fingers, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the ink.

“Mmm… Y/N,” he murmured, pulling me closer as I touched him. His voice was low and husky, stirring something within me that I couldn’t quite place. The way he said my name sent a thrill through me, and despite the chaos of my thoughts, I felt an unexpected comfort in his embrace.

Ichiji stirred slightly at my touch, his arm loosening its grip around me as he shifted, but he didn’t wake. Taking advantage of the moment, I slipped out of bed, careful not to make a sound. How long has he been here? I wondered, feeling a mixture of relief and urgency as I stood. My mission rushed back into focus, pulling me from the warmth of the moment and back to the reality of what needed to be done. I had to move quickly and quietly, knowing that every second counted.

I grabbed my things and made my way quietly to the door, closing it gently behind me before stepping out into the hallway. I need to find my blade and thigh halter... and Luffy... and Nami, before it’s too late. My mind was racing, piecing together the next steps. Time was running out, and I needed to act quickly.

As I descended the stairs, laughter echoed through the chateau, familiar voices pulling me toward them. My heart pounded, but I couldn’t resist following the sound. I edged closer, recognizing the laughter that belonged to Sanji. I peered around the corner, my breath catching at the scene unfolding before me.

“To us…” Sanji’s voice rang out, a toast in hand.

“To us…” Pudding responded, clinking her glass against his with a smile that made my stomach turn. I froze, watching the two of them in the soft candlelight, their faces dangerously close.

“What the hell?” I whispered under my breath, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing.

Sanji looked at her with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. “Pudding,” he said softly, his eyes filled with affection, “I have to say, I’ve never loved a woman more than I do with you.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, making me falter where I stood. Never loved a woman more? My mind spiraled as I tried to make sense of it.

The sight of them together, the way Sanji spoke to her—it shattered something inside me. I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to step out and demand an explanation. But deep down, I knew that this wasn’t the time. There was too much at stake, too much to do.

I turned away, my heart aching with every step as I silently made my way back down the hall, focusing on the mission ahead. There were bigger things at play, and right now, I couldn’t afford to let this derail me. I need to find Luffy.

Sanji POV…

A Day Before….

"You wanted to tell me something, Pudding?" I asked, glancing around her quarters as we sat together. My mind was racing. I had to tell her that there wasn’t going to be a marriage anymore. Besides, I needed to get back to my princess before she woke up. There was no time for distractions.

Pudding fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her eyes downcast. “I… I was the one who led your crew to this island...” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I blinked, caught off guard. "You led them to this island?" I repeated, the weight of her confession sinking in.

Her hands trembled slightly as she continued, “I’m sorry. I gave Luffy my word so that your crew could reach the southwest coast. I wanted to help you escape before Mama found out… but now, you're all in grave danger because of me.” Her voice was laced with despair, as though she’d carried this guilt alone for too long.

I exhaled slowly, piecing it all together. “I see now. I wondered how they managed to pass through all that security…” I muttered, realization dawning on me. “It was thanks to you.” I looked at her, softer this time, acknowledging her intent. “I know you meant well, but even then... I wouldn’t have gone to the coast.” I let the truth slip, knowing it contradicted what I’d told Y/N in the heat of the moment. I had lied to her... telling her I was coming back. The words burned in my memory, but I couldn’t have come back, not with these damn cuffs rendering me powerless.

Pudding looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “No, Sanji… If you're worried about the invitation, then let me take the blame. She's my mom... I’ll be fine. She’s used to arranged marriages, and she places these special bracelets on people who she thinks might run away,” she said, her voice trembling as if she were bracing for something worse.

I pulled back my sleeve, revealing the golden cuffs that had been weighing on me like a death sentence. "I know," I said quietly, lifting my arm for her to see. “Your mom has the key to these. And if I want to get rid of them…” My voice dropped, and the dread I’d been trying to suppress washed over me again, “I have to defeat the Big Mom Pirates.”

"I’m willing to accept this marriage, but under one condition..." I said, my voice steady even though my heart felt like it was being torn in two. "I want Big Mom to let my friends go unharmed."

Pudding’s face twisted in guilt, her hands trembling as she covered her eyes. “I’m so sorry... You’re in so much pain, and it’s because of what I did,” she sobbed.

“Pudding, it’s not your fault. I promise.” I took a breath, knowing I needed to get this off my chest, to explain why I was making this decision. “Thirteen years ago… I managed to escape hell, only to walk right back into it again. But through it all, I should be happy. After all, I’m grateful to all the people I’ve met along the way, and... I can’t bear to hurt them.”

Pudding’s tears fell freely as she listened, her eyes filled with sorrow. I forced myself to push through the pain, to say what needed to be said. “That’s why my adventure ends here.”

She looked at me, her face filled with both pity and confusion. “I’m sorry... I can’t help it. But listen, Sanji... I promise, if you decide to marry me, I won’t let it be hell. I’ll make sure of it.” Her words wavered with sincerity, though the sorrow in her voice mirrored my own. “Oh dear, you’re suffering so much, and I’m making it all about me. You don’t want to marry me, so of course, it would be hell.”

She was right. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want her. My heart belonged to someone else entirely—someone who was probably waiting for me, not knowing the full truth. I thought of Y/N, her smile, her strength... everything about her that made me feel alive. But to protect her, I had to make this sacrifice.

“I don’t want to marry you...” I thought, the words silent in my mind as guilt gnawed at me. But I have to protect Y/N.

I pulled Pudding into my embrace, holding her gently as I made my decision clear. She cried softly against my chest, unaware of the storm brewing inside me. My thoughts drifted back to Y/N, to the lie I was once again telling her by accepting this marriage.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, for lying to you again...” I thought, feeling the weight of betrayal settle deep in my heart. But it was the only way. This was the only way to keep her safe, even if it meant sacrificing everything I wanted.

“You’re my salvation, Pudding," I said aloud, my voice tinged with a sadness I couldn’t hide. "If you’ll have me... I want us to get married in two days.”

The words felt like shards of glass leaving my mouth, cutting me with every syllable. This decision was the hardest one I’d ever had to make, but it was done. There was no turning back now.

The Next Day…

I hadn’t bothered to go back to my room last night. Instead, I stayed with Pudding, her soft breath against my chest as we lay together in bed. “Oh, sweet Pudding...” I thought, holding her close, but guilt began to creep into my thoughts. Y/N...

The intimate moment I shared with Y/N yesterday flooded my mind. I had left her alone in bed, only to be here with Pudding, trying to drown out the heaviness in my heart by pretending to enjoy this moment. I slowly rose from the bed, feeling the weight of my decisions as I decided to make Pudding some breakfast. But the idea of marrying her—it began to consume me, unsettling emotions fluttering inside me.

As I stepped outside for a moment, I overheard two soldiers talking nearby.

“You hear about the princess yesterday?” one soldier asked.

“Yeah, she’s in the medical wing right now. From what I heard, she fell down the stairs and was found unconscious,” the other replied, casually, as if they were talking about nothing more than the weather.

My eyes widened in shock. Fell down the stairs? Y/N?

“Serves her right for taking on our soldiers. That electricity tactic she uses really did a number on them,” the soldier continued, laughing slightly before returning to their duties.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Y/N... princess... what happened? I didn’t wait another second.

Rushing up the stairs, I made my way to Y/N’s room, my mind racing with fear and guilt. How could I have left her alone, after everything? Just as I reached her door, my path was blocked by none other than Ichiji, standing there with his arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.

“Move, Ichiji. This doesn’t concern you,” I spat, trying to push past him, my anger boiling over.

Ichiji remained unfazed, his cold gaze locking with mine. “Anything my fiancée does concerns me, Sanji,” he replied, his voice oozing with arrogance, as if daring me to make a scene.

Fiancée. The word hit me like a brick, only adding to the storm of emotions already churning inside me.

“Fiancée?” I repeated bitterly, the weight of the situation crashing down on me.

“Yes,” he said, his smirk widening. “And if you’re here to see her, you’re wasting your time. Y/N is under my care now.”

Fury surged through me, and I clenched my fists, stepping closer to Ichiji. My voice came out low and threatening, barely controlled. "Under your care? What did you do to her?"

Ichiji raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed by the anger radiating off me. His smirk widened as he crossed his arms. “Oh, relax," he drawled, his tone as condescending as ever. "I didn’t do anything to her. She had a little accident. Fell down some stairs, apparently.”

I felt my jaw tighten at his casual tone, disbelief coursing through me. "An accident?" I hissed, my fists tightening. "And you just happened to find out?"

He shrugged with a nonchalant smirk, as if none of this mattered to him. “I found out the news this morning, just like you.

I could barely contain myself. Everything inside me screamed to push past him, to get to Y/N, to make sure she was okay. But Ichiji’s presence, his smug confidence, only made me feel more trapped.

“She’s not your responsibility, Ichiji,” I growled.

He chuckled, stepping closer. “She will be soon. Get used to it.”

Every part of me wanted to fight back, to lash out, but I knew if I made the wrong move now, it would only make things worse. For her.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "This isn't over," I said through gritted teeth, turning away for now.

I swiftly made it back to Pudding's quarters, feeling the rage inside me subside just a bit, but the questions still burned in my mind. Who the hell attacked Y/N, and why? The image of her hurt and alone gnawed at me, but I forced it down for now. I had to focus.

“Sanji…” Pudding’s soft voice broke through my thoughts as she stirred awake. Her sleepy eyes met mine, and I forced a smile, keeping my tone light.

“Good morning, dear,” I said nonchalantly, though the weight of my thoughts tugged at me. “I was making us some breakfast.”

She smiled warmly, pushing the covers off and making her way over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I returned the embrace, trying to keep my mind from drifting back to Y/N, the guilt clawing at me.

“We have a busy day today, don’t we?” I said with a smile, brushing some of her hair behind her ear.

“Yes, we do actually,” Pudding replied, hugging me a little tighter. I could feel her excitement, the joy she was radiating about the day ahead. But as I held her close, all I could think about was Y/N. I have to find out what really happened to her…

#one piece #black leg sanji #onepiece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji #monkey d luffy #one piece nami #whole cake island #ichiji x reader #vinsmoke ichiji #one piece vinsmokes #one piece fanfiction

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clarafae · 1 month ago

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They rode under a canopy of white flowers so dense it was like a blanket of lace, the draping of a bridal veil over their heads. Spring was in all its splendour today. If the land had a personality, Lucien might have thought she was showing off for their little group, flashing red-breasted robins in the branches, exposing flowers that danced and rippled in the light breeze.

The five of them rode horses down the gentle slope towards Rosewood Village to catch the morning markets. Nesta and Feyre had hung back, following a good distance behind, while Ianthe rode ahead, leading the way. And Elain... Lucien examined Elain out the corner of his eye as she rode a polite distance from his side. Her dress was a gown of pink tulle, giving her the appearance that she’d sprouted from the centre of a rare blossom. An immense hat was perched upon her head, a cascade of ribbons flowing over the brim.

She shot him a glance, catching him mid-stare. “You don’t approve of women riding side-saddle,” she said.

“Do you require my approval, Lady?” he returned with a slight smile.

Continue reading on A03

#elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien #elain x lucien #acotar fanfiction

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ereardon · 2 years ago

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Part One: The Night Before

Summary: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Angst, pining, weddings, cursing

WC: 2.9K

Series masterlist here; part two here

There was a knock at the door.

You sighed and stood up from where you had been sitting at the desk writing your note to Jeremy for tomorrow.

Maybe it was Anna with the steamer for your veil. Or your dad asking about the schedule for the forty-ninth time. Or your mother with an emergency that definitely wouldn’t warrant her reaction: the florist only has medium pink not light pink roses or the wedding planner accidentally wrote cream china instead of bone-colored china and now the three-hundred person reception hall would be wrong.

Except you didn’t care. You didn’t care about any of the details.

Not anymore.

The knocking continued.

“One second!” you huffed, scurrying barefoot across the bridal suite. It was enormous and you simply flung the door open without looking through the peephole first. “Rooster?”

Bradley gave you a small grin. He was still wearing his jacket and tie from the rehearsal dinner, but the tie was now loosened and hanging around his muscular neck. “Hey Ace. Can I come in?”

You nodded and stepped to the side of the door. Bradley stepped inside carefully, walking into the living room of the suite.

“Shit, nice room,” he murmured.

You shrugged. “Dad said to do whatever I wanted. And how many times do you get married? One night in a hotel suite isn’t going to break the bank.”

Rooster nodded. “Yeah.”

You crossed the room, brushing a hand over his back as you grazed past him toward the wet bar. “Want a drink?”

“Sure. What do you have?”

“Wine, gin, bourbon, vodka, whiskey, soda, champagne. Whatever you want, babe.”

“Bourbon on the rocks.”

“You got it.” You grabbed a rocks glass and dropped in a few large cubes from the built-in ice maker before splashing a generous pour of Blanton’s over it. Despite the fact that you had promised yourself you were done drinking after the rehearsal dinner, you poured yourself a glass of champagne and sunk down on the couch next to Bradley, holding out his glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Bradley whispered, tipping the glass back and pouring half of it down his throat. You sipped carefully at your champagne flute, eyes wide.

“What’s up, Roo?” you asked softly, hand reaching out on the back of the white silk couch, touching him. He curled his fingertips around yours.

“Do you remember the night we met?” he asked.

You laughed. “Of course I do. You spilled an entire tray of tequila shots on my shoes.”

It had been a hot June Saturday. You were out with a few girlfriends. You had just finished your junior year at Georgetown and were back home in Annapolis.

You were standing at the bar, ordering another round, when the oaf next to you turned too quickly, taking down a waitress and her entire platter of tequila shots. They rained down on your feet. Thankfully you were wearing sneakers, so no glass penetrated your skin, but you smelled like the inside of a Mexican brothel.

“Dude?” you exclaimed, looking up at him.

Bradley Bradshaw looked back with wide eyes, cheeks flushed with pink embarrassment. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed and before you realized it, you were swept into his arms and he was carrying you bride-style into the unisex bathroom in the back.

“Hey man?” you asked, tapping his shoulder. “Want to put me down?”

“Sorry, yeah,” he said, setting you down gently. You tugged at your denim shorts and gave him a funny look.

“Why’d you do that?”

“In case there was glass,” he said softly. “Didn’t want you to step on it and hurt yourself.”

You peeled off your white Keds, which were soaked and now a faint yellow color, and lifted one leg to dunk your foot into the gross sink. “You just go around pouring tequila on girls and then scooping them up and hauling them into dark bathrooms?”

“I, uh,” Bradley stuttered and you laughed. He caught your gaze in the mirror and laughed with you. “I’m Bradley.”

“Y/N,” you said. “Now are you gonna help me wash my shoes or what?”

He picked up the Keds from the floor and took them to the other sink, rinsing them under cold water and pressing soap against the cloth sides. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see that waitress standing there.”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. Not the first time I’ve had a drink spilled on me. I’ve been to my share of college parties.”

He grinned. “Where do you go?”

“Georgetown,” you replied and he raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be a senior in the fall.”

“Georgetown,” he repeated. “Impressive.”

“Not really.” You switched feet, lathering the cheap pink soap over the toes of your left foot. “How about you, tequila boy? What’s your story?”

“Naval Academy,” he said and you peered at him. It made sense, you guessed. He was tall, lean, and muscular. He had deft hands, you could tell just from the way he was cleaning your shoes. And he had a quick reaction to scooping you up and hauling you into the bathroom, despite your protests.

“Just at the bar trying to sleep with townies?” you asked.

Bradley practically choked on his own spit. He caught your cackle in the mirror and turned to you with a grin. “God, you’re something, aren’t you?”

“I’m drunk is what I am,” you replied.

He held the shoes under the automatic hand dryer and you watched in silence as Bradley rotated them evenly. After a few minutes, he held them out to you. “Not perfect, but it’ll do.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, reaching out and grabbing them. You leaned against the cool white porcelain sink to slide each shoe on, bending over to tie the laces. When you straightened up, Bradley was staring at you. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, leaning back against the sink. “So, sailor,” you said softly and he grinned. “Buy me a drink to make up for the truckload of tequila you dumped on me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bradley placed his hand on your low back and steered you out back into the bar. Someone had cleaned up the tequila catastrophe and you stepped right back to where you had been standing before the incident, Bradley’s fingers still warm on your back. They slid off as he went to grab his wallet to open a tab and you looked up at him. He was attractive in an entirely unexpected way. There were small scars that peppered the left side of his face and you wanted to reach out and trail your fingers over them.

He handed you a glass — a vodka soda this time — and you smiled at him. Bradley smiled back.

And then a hand appeared on his shoulder and you looked up. A guy with the whitest teeth and perfect Dr. McDreamy hair stared back at you. “Bradshaw, who’s your friend?”

He was gorgeous. You felt your blood freeze for a moment.

And then Bradley’s voice pulled you out of your coma.

“Y/N, this is Jeremy. He’s my roommate at the academy.”

Jeremy smiled and you felt your heart speed up. “Nice to meet you.”

You left that night on Jeremy’s arm. He brought you back to his room at the academy; you were staying for the summer with your parents and bringing a boy home that you had met two hours earlier would have sent up red flags to your father.

After, you got dressed and left Jeremy asleep on his bed. You cracked the door open carefully, closing it behind you with a soft thud.

And then you almost tripped on a leg jutting out into the hallway.

“Fuck!” You stumbled but righted yourself at the last moment. Bradley gazed up at you with tired eyes. “Bradley?”

He nodded and stood up, wiping at his eyes. His Hawaiian shirt was rumpled and it looked like he had been asleep against the wall.

“Were you sleeping?”

“Just closed my eyes for a second,” he whispered.

You looked down at your watch and groaned. “Shit.” It was almost four in the morning. Your dad would definitely be looking for you. You looked back at him. “I’m sorry.”

Bradley shrugged. “It’s fine. Happens.”

You looked back at the door, forlorn. So it happened a lot. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You had slept with Jeremy after three rounds of drinks. Why would you think that wasn’t a regular occurrence for him? You nodded. “I see.”

“Y/N,” Bradley reached out and grabbed your hand. You looked up at him. “That’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “Jeremy, he’s a good guy. You should know that.”

You smiled. “I needed to hear that. Thanks.”

Bradley smiled back at you. “Well, I should probably get some rest.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I should go.”

“Do you need a ride or something?”

“I’ll just get an Uber.”

“I can wait with you.”

“You’d do that?”

Bradley squeezed your hand. You hadn’t even realized he had never dropped it. “Of course.”

The two of you stood in silence outside the dorm building. You were cold in the early morning fog. You shivered and Bradley shrugged out of his ugly Hawaiian button up and handed it to you.

“Here.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You slid it on. It smelled like suntan lotion and beer and it was warm from where it had hugged Bradley’s boxy form.

A Honda rolled up slowly and you checked your phone, reading out the license plate.

“This is me,” you confirmed. Bradley nodded. You stepped to the curb and pulled open the door. “Hey, Bradley?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe I’ll see you around.”

He smiled. “I hope so.”

“Why is that what you’re thinking of?” you asked softly, taking another sip of champagne.

Bradley leaned back against the white couch, sliding his arm down to his side. You combed your fingers through his hair at his temple and he shut his eyes. “How’d we get here, Ace?”

“Get where, honey?” you asked.

Bradley sat up and looked at you. “Here, Y/N. With you marrying my best friend tomorrow, in the ballroom downstairs.”

You reeled back. There was a fire in Bradley’s eyes. You had seen that look before. “Brad,” you whispered. “What’s going on?”

“Why are you marrying him, Y/N?” he asked. “Why him?”

Your mouth popped open. Suddenly, it felt like the entire suite was devoid of air. You wanted to gasp but there was nothing to suck into your lungs. All that existed in that moment was Bradley.

“Roo? You’re not gonna believe it.”

Bradley took a deep breath. “What is it, Ace?”

“Jeremy asked me to marry him!”

He looked at your face. How fucking estatic you were. It had been seven years since the night the three of you met. Well, since the night you and Bradley had met, Jeremy had shown up out of the blue. Swooping in. Stealing the girl. Doing what he had always done.

But this time had been different. You were different.

You should have been his.

“Bradley?”

He looked up into your eyes. “What did you say?”

You rolled your eyes. “I said yes, Brad. Of course I said yes.”

And then you launched yourself into his arms, his hands wrapped around your waist, your fingers pressed tightly around his neck.

You whispered into his ear. “I’m getting married, Bradley. How crazy is that?”

He pulled you in closer. “It’s insane,” he murmured against your neck. “I can’t believe it.”

“What did you say?” you asked, aghast.

Bradley’s eyes were trained on yours. There was a hardness in his features that you recognized from all the times the two of you had been in difficult spots before. The first time he and Jeremy deployed together and you held both of them on the tarmac, tears in your eyes, your voice hoarse from spending the entire night before crying. It was the same look he had when Carole died and you had stood in a black wrap dress under an umbrella in the rain next to Bradley as they lowered her casket into the ground. It was the way he looked at you when you said the doctor found a mass on your ovary, only for them to remove it and confirm it was benign a few weeks later. It was the way he looked the night you had fought when he accused you of throwing your life away to follow him and Jeremy around the country from base to base.

You had never been able to let him go. It was always the three of you. It had always been the three of you.

Even when it was supposed to just be you and Jeremy. Bradley had always been there, in the shadows, never out of reach. It’s how you wanted him. It’s how you needed him.

“Brad?”

“Don’t marry him,” Bradley said. “Please.”

You had loved Bradley Bradshaw for years. He was the best friend you had ever had. He fit so seamlessly into your life that you could barely remember a moment when he wasn't in it.

He was the person holding your hair when you drank too much on your twenty-fifth birthday in Las Vegas. Bradley was there when you ran your first marathon. He was there when you and Jeremy bought the house. He was there the day you brought home Buddy, your labrador rescue. Somehow every single memory over the last decade has Bradley on the edges of it.

He was also Jeremy’s best friend.

“Most of you know me. I’m Bradley Bradshaw, best friend of the groom and best man.” Bradley paused while there were cheers from the tables of other Naval aviators. You grinned up at him from where you sat next to him. “But you might not know that I’m also a best friend of the bride’s.” He gazed down at you. “Y/N isn’t just the best thing that happened to Jeremy. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, too. So it’s the greatest honor of my life to be here with you all as they commit themselves to each other. I’ve been the third wheel for most of their firsts.” There was laughter in the audience but Bradley didn’t notice. His eyes were still on yours. You held his gaze, unblinking. “Tomorrow is just another first for these two. Here’s to a lifetime together. I love you both.”

Finally he lifted his gaze from yours and raised his glass.

“A toast to Jeremy and Y/N. Thank God I spilled tequila all over her shoes a decade ago or we wouldn’t be here now.”

More cheering. Bradley gulped down his entire flute of champagne and sat down. You leaned over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Roo,” you whispered into his ear.

His hand came out and brushed against the white silk of your dress where it sat on your hip. “I love you too, baby.”

Bradley’s soft brown eyes bore into yours. You suddenly felt exposed in your thin white lace nightgown that you had been wearing when you answered the door. You stood up and crossed the room, shrugging on the matching robe, cinching it tightly around your waist. So tight it hurt.

Everything hurt.

“What are you saying?” you whispered. “I’m getting married in less than twenty-four hours, Bradley. Why are you doing this?”

Bradley stood up. “Because I can’t watch you get up there and walk down the aisle to him.”

“Why?” you wailed. “Why the fuck not, Bradley?”

“Because it should be me!” he shouted and you froze. Bradley froze. The air in the room froze.

“What did you say?” Your voice was barely a whisper. It was so thin it could break. The way Bradley was breaking but you just couldn’t see it. Maybe it had always been like this and you had never seen it.

Bradley strode across the room until the two of you were only inches apart, his hands on your neck, tilting your head up to look at him. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since that very first night at the bar. I kick myself every night for not making you mine before Jeremy could.”

“Bradley.”

He dropped his hands and took a step back. You felt tears start to well behind your eyes. “I wanted to tell you, Y/N. I started to. A hundred times. A thousand. But then I saw how happy you were with him and I stopped myself. I care more about you being happy than anything else in the world.”

He paused. You wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, the heavy diamond on your left hand grazing your cheek.

A reminder.

Bradley took a breath. “I’ll walk away, Ace. I’ll go back to my room and pretend I never came here. And tomorrow I’ll stand up there next to Jeremy and watch you walk down the aisle like the most beautiful bride on the planet and I’ll try to forget that I’ve loved you for a decade and nobody else can compare to you. I’ll do all of that, if you can answer one question for me.”

You raised your eyes to his.

“Does he make you as happy as I would make you?”

A/N: This is a two-part series!

Please remember to turn on notifications on my library page @ereardonlibrary as I will likely be moving to that system instead of a tag list like below. Thanks!!

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@taytaylala12ylala12 @mizzzpinkink @wkndwlffwlff @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @rosewritesitout @atarmychick007 @khaylin27

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#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun x reader #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n

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ibijau · 7 months ago

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Sins of the father pt1 / On AO3 Wanting an alliance with the Yiling sect, Jin Guangshan arranges a marriage. One of the children Wei Wuxian had from his infamous harem of seducted women will marry his own grandson, Jin Ling, in exchange for a large sum of money. Of course Jin Ling is less than thrilled about it, and it seems neither is Wen Yuan, the strange and silent boy who now shares his life. Nobody in the history of the world has ever been more unlucky than Jin Ling. But there is more to his new husband than meet the eye, and if Jin Ling can figure out what secrets Wen Yuan holds, he might just have a shot at happiness.

The weather had started pretty good that morning, only to quickly degrade as time passed. It was nearly a full blown storm by the time the bride's sedan appeared down the road, with such rain and wind that would ruin everyone's clothes. Jin Ling took it as a bad omen. But of course, Jin Ling was in a mood where he would have found fault even with sunny weather. The blue skies were mocking his misery, he would have said. Still, it was very stormy, and that felt appropriate for the most mismatched wedding the world had ever seen.

Naturally, Jin Guangshan was to blame. Jin Ling used to adore the man who spoiled him rotten, but in recent years he'd somewhat revised that opinion. At now fifteen, Jin Ling was starting to suspect that everything wrong with his sect could be traced back to his grandfather. It was an opinion he kept to himself. People were already quick to call him insolent, arrogant, or ungrateful, he didn't want to prove them right. Besides, grown-ups hated it when young people were smarter than them, and Jin Ling suspected many adults in his life hadn't yet realised what a problem their sect leader was.

But really, it had been Jin Guangshan's idea, this wedding, as well as the alliance going with it. And he'd refused to listen to reason when anyone had pointed out the risks, which was one thing. But he'd also not paid any mind to his oldest grandson's very real emotions on the topic, which Jin Ling hadn't expected. He was the oldest grandson, the future heir. He'd thought his wishes would have more weight than that, but Jin Guangshan had been quick to put him back in his place, letting him know nobody cared about what he wanted.

And now Jin Ling was getting married, against his will.

As the bride's sedan came closer, it became noticeable that people were accompanying it. Jin Ling squinted, trying to get a look at his future spouse's friends and relatives. Instead he saw nothing but a dozen corpses, some half rotten, others as fresh as if they'd just died, which had to be worse. There was only one living person visible, a gaunt man wearing dark robes who walked in front of the rest. Even without ever meeting him, Jin Ling knew this had to be Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, the entire reason for this whole stupid wedding.

At last, the bridal sedan arrived in front of Carp Tower's gates. The sedan's door opened and Jin Ling got a first peek at his bride, a slender figure dressed in red, whose head was covered by an opaque veil of the same colour. When that person stepped out, Jin Ling wondered if there had been a change of plan, if Wei Wuxian had found a daughter of his own after all, one he was willing to sacrifice for Jin money. There was no way this small, frail figure belonged to the boy of seventeen whom the Jin sect had bought. This bride was shorter than Jin Ling, and more slender too, when already Jin Ling was at that difficult stage of growth when his entire body seemed made of bones with no flesh attached. A girl would be a better deal, of course, as she could give the Jin sect an heir. But she'd be in more danger with some of her in-laws, especially if she had the misfortune of being the least bit pretty.

But no, this had to be a boy. There was a very flat chest as a first hint, and then the hands peeking out of the sleeves, the only visible part of this newcomer, looked too big and rough for a girl. This really had to be Wen Yuan, the bastard son to whom Wei Wuxian hadn't deigned to give his own name.

Jin Zixuan nudged his son, and Jin Ling stepped forward to offer his hand to his bride. This earned him a glare for Wei Wuxian, as if somehow Jin Ling was at fault for this situation, as if it weren't Wei Wuxian himself who had sold them his own child. Wen Yuan did not move. Perhaps the veil was too thick, and he couldn't see Jin Ling's hand. Or else he saw it, and just didn't want to take it, to make Jin Ling look foolish.

“We welcome you here,” Jin Ling said, sounding awkward to his own ears. “We hope… we hope our preparations for this joyful day will satisfy you.”

Wei Wuxian's glare intensified, seizing Jin Ling with terror he couldn't control. It wasn't just him, either. Behind him, the adults were shifting uncomfortably. Even Jin Ling's mother looked ready to jump in, as if she didn't quite trust her childhood friend after all.

“I will take the money before I give you the boy,” Wei Wuxian announced.

Jin Guangshan stepped closer, although he did not dare approach as much as Jin Ling had.

“We have it, of course. But surely such matters can wait until after the ceremony? We have prepared a banquet that you will surely…”

“I will have the money now,” Wei Wuxian cut him, his expression darker still. “And I will not step inside Carp Tower, not unless my people can follow me there.”

Saying this, he gestured at the corpses which had now gathered behind him in two neat rows, like an army following its commander.

“Someone go get the chest,” Jin Guangshan ordered. “Guangyao ! Hurry!”

Jin Guangyao rushed away, and the wait began, made uncomfortable by the rain and the wind. Even with his pretty good cultivation, Jin Ling was starting to feel cold, and he knew he couldn't be the only one. His mother had to be miserable, and his younger siblings too. It gave Jin Ling some twisted joy to notice that Wen Yuan was shivering too, suffering as well from the capricious whims of his father, but that was short lived. Wei Wuxian himself appeared untouched by the dreadful weather, still standing tall and proud to glare at everyone, never noticing the discomfort of his own child. But then again, what more could be expected of a father so willing to sell his son?

At last Jin Guangyao returned, carrying a small chest Jin Ling knew to be filled with gold. The price of Wen Yuan's life, of Jin Ling's own ruined future. Wei Wuxian opened the chest to check its content, something Jin Ling found unspeakably rude, while knowing his grandfather would have done the same had the positions been reversed. When he was satisfied with what he'd counted, Wei Wuxian handed the chest to one of his corpse soldiers. He then turned to Jin Ling, his expression severe.

“If anything happens to my son, I will make your family wish you were never born,” Wei Wuxian warned. “And I'll make you watch everything I do to them, until there's nothing left of this sect but ashes. This is my son, and your treatment of him will be taken as a reflection of your respect for me. Am I clear?”

Jin Ling quickly nodded, so nervous he could hardly breathe. Wei Wuxian turned his cold eyes to Jin Guangshan.

“The same goes for you, and for that son of yours.”

While Jin Guangshan swore that Wen Yuan would be treated well, Jin Ling wondered why Wei Wuxian was worried his father of all people would do anything bad. It was fair to be wary of Jin Ling himself, who as a husband could easily mistreat his new bride if he wished, although he'd been raised better than that. And as for Jin Guangshan… The less said, the better. But Jin Zixuan ? He was universally well liked, and well respected, with a reputation for kindness. Why would Wei Wuxian think his son would be the exception to Jin Zixuan's kind disposition? Was Jin Ling's new bride so unlikeable that even his father might get irritated?

While Jin Ling worried, Wei Wuxian took his son in his arms and hugged him tight. It would have seemed like a sincerely affectionate goodbye, had Jin Ling not known how much money his father-in-law was earning from this.

“Don't forget what I've taught you,” Wei Wuxian ordered Wen Yuan, his voice wavering. “Let me know immediately if anything is wrong. I meant it, I won't let anyone hurt you.”

Wen Yuan nodded, but said nothing. And yet when Jin Ling was finally allowed to take his bride's hand to guide him inside Carp Tower, he found the older boy's fingers were icy and shaking from emotions he couldn't hide.

Wei Wuxian watched as the entire Jin sect followed the young couple, all of them in a hurry to put distance between him and them. Glancing back, Jin Ling saw his mother linger a moment, hesitating to approach the man who had once been a boy she knew, before her husband lead her away so she wouldn't miss any part of her son's wedding.

It felt wrong to get married to someone who didn't have a single person representing their family, nor a single friend. Wen Yuan might as well have been a ghost… But no, even a ghost wedding would have had relatives present, someone, anyone.

Jin Ling knew he ought to have felt sorry for his bride, but he was too busy being humiliated that this was the spouse his grandfather had found him, someone so unwanted and isolated. Everyone his age was going to mock him and say even all of the Jin money wasn't enough to find him a decent spouse when Jin Ling's personality was so difficult.

But the worst was yet to come.

After every usual ceremony, Jin Ling and Wen Yuan were sent to the house they would now occupy as a married couple. It was another thing that upset Jin Ling about the whole business, being made to leave his old room to move too far away from his parents and siblings to see them as easily as he used to. He hadn't even had a choice in the decoration, so everything looked showy, the way his grandfather preferred.

Once the door closed behind them and they were alone for the first time, Wen Yuan pulled on his veil to remove it. Jin Ling didn't have time to be disappointed he couldn't do that himself. Instead, he was faced with the greatest shock of the day, the final humiliation this marriage had to throw his way.

“Oh damn, you're ugly!” Jin Ling exclaimed.

Wen Yuan's cold eyes turned to him, his face impassive. Maybe it didn't hurt him because he knew he was ugly. There was no way he didn't know, actually. But really, there was nothing appealing about him. He was skinny, even more so than Jin Ling had suspected. This was not the elegant slenderness of a talented cultivator, either. Instead, Wen Yuan looked as famished as a peasant after a decade of bad harvests. He was also deathly pale, making for a harsh contrast when his cold eyes were surrounded by dark circles. There had been an attempt to tie his hair elegantly, but the result was messy, his hair in such a bad condition that it couldn't hold in place.

People said Wei Wuxian had been a handsome youth, comparable to the twin jades of Gusu Lan, and even to Jin Ling's own father. Apparently, his son had inherited none of that charm. It made Jin Ling want to cry from humiliation. They'd bought him a bride, such an expensive one, too, and this was all his family could find for him. Jin Chan and the rest of his cousins were going to laugh at him for the rest of his life.

Jin Ling's existence was ruined for ever.

Still, that poor half dead boy in front of him wasn't to blame. They'd both been treated like pawns by the adults around them, but maybe they could make the best of this. Ugly as he was, Wen Yuan might at least be clever, or kind, or funny, or anything at all, as long as it didn't bring Jin Ling even more shame.

“Sorry, I was rude,” Jin Ling said. “I just didn't expect… Nevermind that. Do you want to eat?”

He gestured at the food which had been laid out for them before they even arrived, selected from the banquet his grandfather and his guests were having in the main hall. Every dish was more elaborate than the last, except for a pot of simple lotus root soup. Normally Jin Ling loved it, but everything was so awful that day, even the sight of that soup felt embarrassing. His mother was the wife of the future sect leader, she should behave like it. Now Wen Yuan was going to think this soup was among the best they could offer, and… And it was! No dish in the world could beat it, but it was just a simple soup, it had no place at a wedding banquet… But Jin Ling loved it, and his mother had made it because she loved him, and…

“Come on, let's sit and eat,” Jin Ling grumbled. “You must be hungry.”

He went to sit at the table. Wen Yuan hesitantly followed him, glaring at the dishes as if one of them might bite him. Maybe he really was scared, in fact, because he just sat there and didn't move to take anything.

“You can have anything you like,” Jin Ling insisted, demonstrating by putting some food on his own plate. “All of this is for us. Or do you want to drink, first? There‘s wine here, but I can ask for water or tea if you'd prefer.”

Wen Yuan said nothing, and still didn't move. Maybe he was one of Wei Wuxian's fierce corpses, Jin Ling wondered, before quickly dismissing the idea. There were arrays in place around Carp Tower, a fierce corpse couldn't have gone in without notice. His new bride was alive. Rude, unpleasant, ugly, but alive.

“If you don't eat meat, that dish is vegetarian,” Jin Ling offered. “That one too, I think. And there's fried rice here, I don't think that has meat. Just eat something, alright?”

Still silent, Wen Yuan watched him like a hawk. Maybe he was deaf. Maybe he was stupid? Maybe he'd grown up surrounded only by walking corpses, never getting a chance to develop social skills or learn any manners.

Maybe…

Maybe Jin Ling was too angry to care anymore. He'd done his best to be welcoming, he'd done his duty as a new husband, what more was he supposed to do? If Wen Yuan didn't want to eat, he could starve for all Jin Ling cared. But as for Jin Ling himself, he started scarfing down food, because he hadn't had anything since dawn anyway.

Almost immediately, Wen Yuan served himself some of the same dishes Jin Ling was eating, and started his meal. He ate only small pieces, and very slowly at that, as if the richest foods the Jin sect could offer didn't quite satisfy him. Or maybe he feared poison, Jin Ling realised when he tried other foods, only for his new husband to try them after him, never eating anything that Jin Ling hadn't tasted first. As if they'd be stupid enough to hurt Wen Yuan, when it might start a conflict with Wei Wuxian.

When they were done eating, Jin Ling had servants take away the leftovers. He made sure to stand near his new bride until they left, and to smile as if the situation were a pleasing one. He didn't want to give his grandfather any reason to be displeased with him, on top of everything else.

Alone again with his husband, Jin Ling ought to have chatted with him. A wedding night was a good occasion to get to know one's spouse after all. But Wen Yuan hadn't said a single word so far, and Jin Ling doubted it was about to change. So although it was still early in the day, Jin Ling showed Wen Yuan his bedroom. Jin Guangshan, with his views of marital fidelity, had agreed the newlyweds should be allowed separate rooms. A small kindness, easily granted when he had no grandchildren to expect from that union. Wen Yuan did not look surprised to have his own space, nor pleased, nor even upset. His indifference appeared limitless. Without even thanking Jin Ling or wishing him good night, Wen Yuan entered the room and promptly closed the door behind him.

This had to be the worst wedding in history, Jin Ling miserably thought as he walked to his own room. A fitting prelude for what was sure to be the most miserable marriage ever, worse even than that of his grandparents, who hadn't spoken to each other in five years at that point. It was just so unfair, and Jin Ling wanted to die, so everyone would miss him and regret that they'd forced him to marry that corpse-like boy. Or maybe he run away to Yunmeng and ask his uncle to adopt him and then someone else could get his husband. Jin Chan, maybe. They'd make a fitting couple, both of them unpleasant to look at, and even worse to be around.

Or else, or else…

Jin Ling fell asleep like that, imagining elaborate scenarios that freed him from this nightmare, quite certain that he was the most unfortunate person who had ever lived.

#jin ling #lan sizhui #wen yuan #lingzhui #zhuiling #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #lingzhui arranged marriage #not convinced by this title but hey at least it's out into the world now

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industria-adastra · 2 months ago

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[PMMM] like clockwork orange (keep your eyes buttered 'til the end

Summary:

Love, or maybe like—easy to give, harder to make stay. But oftentimes it was a hardy, persistent thing; torn so thin yet still holding on. Like spider silk, as some might’ve said. Like an illness, others might call it—chewing away at your senses, turning wrong to right, turning your vision rose-pink and making splatters of red seem ordinary.

Or: despite everything, she was still Madoka.

Pairing: Kriemhild Gretchen/Akemi Homura

Note: this is one of my darker works, so please heed the tags before clicking to read

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“I love you,” she’d once said, snot running down her nose, tears blinding her awful vision; so cold she couldn’t even realise that Madoka’s body had already started cooling. Homura had kept the gun and searched for the bullet that shot through Madoka’s soul. Had stared at the filthy metal in a hospital bathroom, wondering if she should fuse it to her heart—the lead poisoning would’ve been a vivid reminder of her sins.

She didn’t, but she kept it with her through everything. It wasn’t as if she needed something physical to remind her, but the cool metal was better than a cold body.

“I love you,” she’d once whispered into Madoka’s hair, or maybe twice, thrice, an unending cycle of being a dog at Madoka’s feet; collared and chained through her heart. A freak clutching at her skirts looking for absolution. Homura had begged her, more than once, repeating those same actions, the same words like a prayer on her lips.

There had been invisible blood on her hands—Mami, Sayaka and Kyoko—crimes of omission, dead through her inaction, culminating in her worst nightmare. An eye for an eye, a heart for a heart.

Madoka didn’t scream, that time. Nor did she scream in all those other times. It had cracked too quickly, broken in a flash, yolk tumbling out half shattered and spiked with eggshell. The witch had been a formless thing, reaching out for the stars in all its newborn naivety.

“I love you,” she’d once choked out, bloody tears in her eyes and chest pinned wide open; open like her arms in a warm welcome—adorned in bridal white, her hair strewn wide like a veil. Kriemhild Gretchen was nothing like Madoka, all sharp edges where it had once been rounded, inviting in the way a spider beckoned its prey. There had been static everywhere, jagged screaming singing of rapture. Kriemhild’s fingers had twined around Homura’s own, and she’d only been glad that her own fingers hadn’t been twisted like so.

Homura’s eyes were closed, but she thought she might’ve heard the sound of a toddler’s wailing.

“I love you,” she said this morning (or maybe it had been the afternoon or evening), cutting into fleshy bread and drinking wine as red as blood. It had dribbled down her lips from an open-mouthed kiss, sloppy and rough and alien through the way a tongue had been shoved down her throat, probing her oesophagus; the way Madoka’s teeth had snapped off her tongue, the way it felt like vomit should’ve been pouring out her mouth. Madoka’s hands had pressed firmly onto her hips, nails sinking into the naked flesh as a heartbeat thundered in her ears. Something wet glided across her chest, cold and stinking to high heaven.

Homura’s eyes were half-lidded as she lost herself further, threading fingers through pink locks that were smooth and sandpaper-like all at once.

Madoka’s body was cold.

#my writing #fanfiction #puella magi madoka magica #homura akemi #akemi homura #kriemhild gretchen #tw: sa #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent #Please do read the tags before reading the fic in case it is not to your liking #angst

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stark---contrast · 1 year ago

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@stevetonygames team Future | Square "Nope Nope Nope" | 100 words | Earth-3490 (aka the Natasha Stark universe)

"No. Nuh-uh. Nope, nope, nope."

"It's just a bridal gown," Jan said. "It's not gonna bite you."

Natasha crossed her arms. "You don't know that. A sentient dress wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's happened to us by a long shot."

Jan closed her sketchbook with a sigh. "I take it you've already decided on an outfit?"

"Well," Natasha said with a smirk, "why buy my three hundredth dress when I already have something that's guaranteed to get everyone's attention?"

Jan stared. "Please tell me you're not marrying Steve in the armor."

"...You can make a veil for the helmet?"

#stevetony games 2023 #earth 3490 #natasha stark #janet van dyne #starkfic

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69bitterbeingz · 11 months ago

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IF YOU'RE GONNA BE DUMB || CH. 9

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DISCLAIMER: This is a reupload from my prev account! best to follow the fic through ao3 [linked below] to avoid any future issues PAIRINGS - johnny knoxville, bam margera, steve-o, chris pontius, ryan dunn x female reader WARNINGS - swearing, drinking, injury

ao3 version

The moon floated in the cloudy night sky like a coin in inky black water, stars barely peeking through the haze like drops of milk. Big Ben’s spire pierced through the veil, and when the camera panned down, a man– no, creature , howled in the lonely streets, his hands raised towards the stars.

“This has got to be the dumbest one yet.”

“Dumber than getting thrown around like a football?” Johnny replied, laughing incredulously at your remark; you shook your head.

“No no , that’s a totally different breed of dumb. This is just…” You trailed off, then gestured at Chris, gleefully sprinting down the road in a hoodie and wolf mask. “Look at him.”

“C’mon, don’t be a fuckin’ killjoy.” Steve-O teased, nudging your ribs a little harder than you expected and making you jolt. With a jab back at his ribs, you smiled.

“I can call it stupid and still enjoy it.”

It was hardly even a stunt, simply an excuse to run around like a knob and weird people out, and all of you followed along like giggling kids. Some shots were a bit of a hassle - should’ve known that popping out at people on a late night tube would tempt some wanker to take a swing at Chris, but you all managed to escape just as the carriage doors opened, so no harm no foul. Besides, you bet these guys have been in worse scraps. To be honest, out of all the stunts the lot of you had filmed over your time in England, this was by far your favourite. No cringeworthy accidents, nothing totally disgusting or grim, just running around like headless chickens while Chris howled for all he was worth. It was just lighthearted fun, and a great way to close out your shoot. Even you got involved, although… not knowingly . You were distracted settling a debate with Steve-O [“you can smoke damn near anything, trust me, i have” “yeah but smoking incense like a cigarette can not be good for you”] when his expression suddenly changed from neutral to a shitty smirk. Before you had time to question what the hell he was so smiley about, you were literally swept off your feet. You screamed, as whoever had you in the bridal carry howled like a mad man; at least it was obvious who it was long before he had reached the park, giggling in a very un- wolflike way.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You asked, a little breathless as you clung to the front of his hoodie - you really wished he wasn’t wearing that shitty wolf mask, the low light of the street lamps made it look genuinely freaky.

Chris chuckled, putting on a darker tone this time. “ You’re fresh meat.” Though the ‘intimidating’ voice didn’t last long, as he broke back into a dopey giggle. When he finally ran back to the crew and put you down, you promised yourself to watch your back more vigilantly in the future. With that little escapade, everyone decided you had enough footage of Chris jumpscaring poor passers-by, the executive decision was made for celebration drinks in a bar near Tower Bridge. Tremaine was nice enough to get the first couple rounds for everyone, toasting the crew for their hard work on the past few months of shooting; he then turned to Johnny, Chris and Steve-O to make a special mention: “takes balls to do the dumb shit you guys put yourselves through.”

“Hear hear!”

Down the hatch, let the good times roll. Sure, you drank every night here, but this really did feel special, a joy and undeniable relief that everyone felt with the end of filming. The only thing was that you wish truly everyone was here to celebrate it too - despite not knowing Dave and Ehren that well, they deserved to be here much more than you believed you did. Not to mention Bam and Ryan… you stared into the bubbling liquid in your pint glass as the thought arose. Shit, you really missed them. You haven’t even been gone that long and you missed them. It was great being here with Johnny, Chris and Steve-O, but you couldn’t shake that feeling of an important piece of the puzzle being missing. You raised your glass to your lips and wondered what they were doing right now…?

You should ring Bam...

“Hey, what you staring into space for?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at the tipsy Chris now sitting next to you. Wait, where did everyone else go? Your head darted around, noting how the group had splintered off into different parts of the bar - you must’ve been so wrapped in drinking and thinking that you hadn’t noticed them all go.

“Huh… don’t know. How long was I out for?”

“Oh, dunno really, I was caught up with some guy. Anyway, you looked like you were thinkin’ too hard so I came over to get us some drinks. Wanna do shots?”

You quirked an embarrassed smile, letting your preoccupations slip out of your head. “Sure, get whatever you want, I’ll pay.”

“Oho! Well if you insist~ ” He giggled coyly, twirling his shoulder-length hair around his finger before turning to the bartender with his order. As he chatted, you lingered on the outline of his profile, the way his nose curved into his lips and other poetic nonsense. You never noticed how cute his nose actually was, it complimented his face nicely. Not that his face really needed complimenting, it was pretty damn great already. Then there was his pretty hair, slightly curly and hanging a little ways past his ears - it was long enough to run your fingers through and catch the knots. It suited him well.

Oh no, the booze was getting you all sappy .

You squinted at your beer for a second, as if to scold it, then quickly decided you didn’t give a shit

“You gonna grow it out?”

“Huh?” Chris asked, tilting his head to the side slightly like a confused puppy as he pushed your shot in front of you. You motioned to his head.

“Your hair, I mean it’s already kinda grown out but, like, gonna grow it out s’more? Get real hippy dippy?”

“Oh… yeah, I was thinking about it.” He seemed caught off guard, shifting on his stool. A little hazy eyed, you nodded, face unreadable.

“...Your hair’s nice, soft. I hope you grow it out. Hippy dippy looks good on you.”

For a moment he just blinked at you, but a grin soon split his cheeks, and if you looked a little closer [or were a little less drunk] you would’ve noticed the splash of red that started to stain across the bridge of his nose.

“What a charmer! Your hair’s nice, too - really nice, actually. Hope you let me comb through it again.”

You smiled bashfully, bumped your shot glasses together with a ‘clink’ and knocked back the pair of snakebites. Burning, tinged with the citrus of lime juice, but it felt good going down, and Chris’s warm smile only served to soothe that burn. His eye twinkled mischievously as he watched you set the shot glass back down with a heavy hand.

“Wanna do another?”

The two of you got caught in your own world for god knows how long, chatting about who the fuck cares and getting totally shitfaced. You didn’t remember the last time you felt so light - it’s always so easy with Chris, he’s such a calming presence. At one point in the night you told him he reminded you of a capybara, and he drunkenly laughed and said you reminded him of a deer. You pulled a face and asked him why the hell are you a deer? And he said, “ No it totally makes sense. You’re this pretty, flighty thing but you got antlers and they fuckin’ hurt when you use them. Also, when you get surprised you get this cute wide-eyed look.” There were no further questions, you were busy downing your drink to quell the fuzzy feeling in your chest.

It could’ve been minutes or hours the two of you spent talking, but it couldn’t last forever. You were far gone, but you were with it enough to notice raised voices near down the other end of the bar. You furrowed your eyebrows, ignoring Chris mid sentence as you leaned to the side to look around him and see what the big deal was, only to see Steve-O jabbing his finger at a much larger bloke’s chest.

“Shit.”

“What?” Chris turned to see what you were looking at. “Ah shit. ”

To Chris’ surprise, Steve-O didn’t even seem to be the aggressor this time - the stranger, clearly wasted off his fucking nut, had a demeanour like a rabid dog, shoulders hunched over and shoving at Steve’s shoulder. Instinctively, your face screwed up in distaste as you watched it unfold, tensions rising when the guy grabbed Steve by the front of his shirt. Like you were on autopilot, you got up from your stool and marched over, ignorant to Chris’ slurred questions and your unsteady feet.

You knew damn well Steve-O can take care of himself, but to be entirely honest, this wasn’t for him. You were pissed in both senses of the word, and this was what you wanted to do.

“Mind your fucking business!” You barked, yanking the guy by the back of his shirt to get his attention. He looked over his shoulder, but didn’t pay you much more mind. Alright dick, as if you were gonna get ignored like that. You looped round, wedging yourself in between him and Steve and started pushing at the strangers chest. “Hey asshole fuckin’ look at me! I said mind your fucking business! ”

“The fuck ‘s this?” He asked, shoving you back by the shoulder like he did Steve. “Your fuckin’ bird stickin’ her neck out for you?”

“‘M not a fuckin’ bird shit for brains.”

“The fuck does he mean ‘ bird ’?” Steve asked nobody in particular, because right now your tunnel vision was set on the random man twice your size.

“Stop yapping and get the fuck out of my way, dizzy cunt.” The stranger spat, moving to push past you but you threw your entire weight into his front, managing to knock him back.

“I'll show you a dizzy cunt you fuckin’ bell end!”

You jammed your boot into his shins as hard as you could, and though it knocked you off balance, you steadied yourself in time to catch him wincing. However, it didn’t nearly have the effect you hoped. What followed happened too fast for you to really catch on - one second you were on your feet, the next your head hit the sticky bar floor, hot pain starting to radiate across your face and the taste of metal arising in your mouth as the edges of your vision started to black out. The stranger was ushered out by security - no matter the fact you were the little shit starter, if security sees a big guy knock someone out, they’re gonna be the one getting kicked out. Just before you totally blacked out, some familiar concerned faces crowded around you, and it kinda reminded you of when you wiped out on that ramp the first time you met them all, especially when Knoxville said,

“ Shit, [Y/n] you good? How’s your head?”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Ugh…Wow…

Your head really fucking hurts.

You don’t know who you are, where you are, anything really, but you could be sure of that much.

Your head really really fucking hurts.

Well, that and one other thing you noticed - the distant sound of people talking, maybe in a hallway? If you opened your eyes you could probably figure it out, but you didn’t really feel like it right now. In fact, considering the way you felt right now, you didn’t want to move for a million years. Which is saying something, since whatever you were lying on was pretty uncomfortable, starchy and stiff, nothing like your sheets at home. So, you could rule out home. One step closer to solving the mystery. You could hear other sounds nearer to you, things like coughing or hushed conversation; if you put in the effort, you could just about make it out. Something full of jargon, sounded professional. Well that’s just confusing, why would you be asleep somewhere professional? Through the thin skin of your eyelids, you could also tell there was a lot of bright light, light that’d probably hurt when and if you decide to open up. Looking forward to that. Bet that’ll do wonders for your head. Despite your hesitation, you knew you wouldn’t be able to get much more information without using all of your senses, so begrudgingly, you opened your eyes.

“ Jesus! ” You jolted at the unexpected presence of a man in hospital scrubs standing right next to you. The initial spike of your heart rate soon calmed as he looked at you with confusion; your expression was purely disgruntled. “Do you just… hang around like that? Waiting to jumpscare unconscious people?” He didn’t respond, simply picked up a telephone receiver on the bedside table and made a succinct message. You started to look around, eyebrows furrowed and eyes twitchy every time a certain movement made your head hurt. “Why aren’t I at the bar? Why am I in a hospital?”

“Your friends brought you into A&E about two hours ago, apparently you were knocked unconscious in a fight.”

You sucked the air through your teeth, reaching up to massage your throbbing temple.

“Shit, again? Man, I’ve gotta stop doing this, can’t be good for my head…”

“Not the first time then?”

“Well, first time getting my shit kicked in by a dude, I think. Unless I just don’t remember.”

The nurse hummed, he seemed concerned, but ultimately didn’t ask any more questions. He pottered around a bit, checking your blood pressure and heart rate only for it to come back pretty normal, if on the low side. All the while, the painkillers he gave you started to kick in.

“Hey uh… don’t know your name…”

“Nurse is fine.”

“Impersonal, alright, anyway you said I came here two hours ago? Was I really out that whole time?”

“Actually, when you came in you were conscious, but you fell asleep in the waiting room, and that was a concern due to the possibility of a brain injury.”

At least you weren’t knocked out for that whole time… you started to pick at your hospital wristband, noticing the dried blood stains on your shirt as you looked down. The wristband was kinda cool the more you looked at it, maybe you could laminate it and keep it as a bracelet or something… then when you craned your head up again, you were alone. Huh, no goodbye? Probably a pretty busy guy if he’s working A&E, you didn’t mind hanging out on your own for a bit; in fact, you could probably do with some solitude.

Well too bad, you weren’t getting any.

“Found ‘er.”

Following the familiar gravelly voice came Steve-O’s head ducking through the hospital room doorway.

“Oh, hey. Did they not tell you where I was?”

“Didn’t even let us follow you, dude.” Steve-O complained, taking a seat next to the hospital bed. “Fuckin’ weak, dunno why they rushed you off like that.”

“Probably ‘cuz of my bad brains.” You flicked your own forehead for emphasis, but just caused a twinge of pain in the process. Steve-O shrugged, leaning his arms on his thighs so he was a bit closer to you.

“You’re fine, bet you’ve gotten worse.” He trailed off for a second, staring at his shoes then back at you. “Why’d you get in between us like that?”

“Eh, don’t know. Had a lot to drink, wanted to piss somebody off… didn’t think he’d actually take a swing though.”

“All bark, huh?”

“No way I have bite, kicked the guy in the fuckin’ shins. He was being an ass anyway, deserved it.”

Steve-O smiled, not the impish one you’re used to but something softer. “...Thanks. That was pretty cool of you.”

You stalled for a second, but settled for mirroring his smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“ [Y/n]!”

Enter, Johnny and Chris. Chris wasted no time coming right up to your bedside. “Dude, did he scramble your brains?”

“Yeah, don’t even remember your name, Chris.”

Chris snickered, but he seemed preoccupied by something. “I, uh… I feel kinda bad about the whole thing, I should’ve held you back or something. I don’t know why I didn’t, it just–”

“If it makes you feel any better, I literally wouldn’t let you stop me.” You assured, shrugging nonchalantly, and he managed to crack a smile.

“Still, sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and ruffled his hair it might’ve been an excuse to touch his hair again . “You’re too soft for your own good, y’know.”

“Jeez, you’d think they’d at least clean the blood offa ya, you look a mess.” Johnny commented, coming up on the other side of your bed to get a good look at you. He looked around for a second, then reached for the box of tissues he spotted.

“There’s blood ? Seriously? But my nose doesn’t hurt..”

“I think the guy had rings on or something, gave you a gash on your cheek.” Steve-O explained, scratching at his left cheek as if to demonstrate.

“Eh, don’t worry about it, I gotcha.” Johnny assured, dipping a tissue into a glass of water enough to wet it but not have it break apart; his free hand cupped your cheek, warm and directing so he could keep your head facing him, and with a gentler hand than you thought him able, started to dab at the dried blood on your face. Sure, it still hurt , after sitting on your skin so long he had to scrub at some parts, but it was relaxing nonetheless. He let out little ‘sorry’ s every time you winced or hissed, and all too soon, it was over. Without thinking, your head followed his hand as he released your face, chasing the warmth of his palm, and to your relief he didn’t bother to mention it.

“There, now we’re even.”

“Nurse Knoxville.” You teased, resting your arms in your now folded lap as Steve-O and Chris chuckled.

“He’d be a shit nurse.” Steve-O snarked, followed by Chris.

“Bet he can’t pull off the outfit like I can.”

“Real nurses don’t even wear that skimpy shit, look–” Johnny motioned to the nurse stood in the doorway, staring disapprovingly at the group. “ That’s what they actually wear.”

“You shouldn’t be in here.” Your nurse said bluntly, fully entering the room. The guys all brushed him off.

“Nah, ‘s okay, we know her.” Chris assured, as if that was the issue.

“That doesn’t matter, only immediate family’s allowed. We’re not sure of her condition yet.”

“Aw c’mon , look at her, she’s fine.” Steve-O insisted, but the nurse wasn’t going to be convinced as he started to usher Steve out of the shitty plastic chair he was sat in.

“Really, I’m fine, we’ve gotta go catch a flight anyway so–”

“I really wouldn’t advise that. We’d like to keep you overnight so we can monitor your condition–” The nurse was interrupted by a beeping in his pocket; he pulled out a pager, took one quick glance, then heaved a heavy sigh. “There’s something I need to tend to… can you hang on for ten minutes?”

You nodded, so he swiftly left. Busy, busy man.

Johnny whistled, playing with his hands as he turned back to you. “You don’t have to give ‘em your insurance info or anything?”

“Nope, free healthcare.”

“Great, let’s get you out of this miserable li’l matchbox.”

You weren’t going to argue, you had shit to do. Lucky they didn’t put you in one of those paper-y hospital gowns because you really didn’t feel like staying longer than you absolutely had to. Once Johnny helped you over the metal railing of the hospital bed and Chris picked up your jacket, you hightailed it out of that A&E room before any nurse could stop you. It was still dark when you made it outside, but clearly nearing daylight, as that deep navy started to lighten to an ultramarine blue. You always liked that stage of the night sky, thought it was so pretty when everything was bathed in that hazy blue glow. The rental car was pulled up in front of the hospital entrance so you were all able to pile in as quickly as possible, then off you went on the way home.

Flashes of street lights flitted past the car window, and you watched as the cityscapes changed and flowed. A tug at your hospital wristband caught your attention, and you turned to Chris.

“Gonna keep it?”

You hummed and gazed at it again. “...Yeah, looks cool.”

With all your fondness for Chris, you hoped you weren’t sitting next to him on the plane back.

#jackass fanfic #jackass x reader #johnny knoxville x reader #bam margera x reader #steve o x reader #chris pontius x reader #ryan dunn x reader #if you're gonna be dumb

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shaadiwish · 2 years ago

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Here Are Some Fantastic & Trending Bridal Veil Shots That Took Our Breaths Away

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hotforharrysheart · 2 years ago

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Permanent Love Part 2

You booked two hotel rooms on different floors so Ron and Helen could get ready and not run into each other.

Harry walks you to the door of the room and pulls you to him. The room is already in complete disarray - dresses and shoes everywhere, hairstylist and makeup artist getting set up. It’s a bridal war zone with all the ladies sprawled on the sofas and then Ny pops the champagne. Lunch is on the way up and then it’ll be go time.

“Looks like a hurricane hit this room already,” he says smirking.

“Yep. Girls gone wild in here,” you say giggling. “What’re you gonna do?”

He shrugs. “Drink some tequila, smoke some cigars, talk some shit.”

“Sooo…not any different than any other day then,” you say smugly.

“Heyyyyyy…”

You giggle. “Go. Drink your tequila. I’ll see you later.”

He smiles and kisses you. “I’ll miss ya. Can’t wait to see ya all dolled up,” he says, kissing you again and pulling back to boop your nose before going to the elevator.

You shamelessly ogle his body as he walks away, then inhale a deep breath and shake your head smiling to yourself. “Hey mister,” you call out quickly, you crook your finger when he turns around. He immediately starts a long stride back to you, smiling. You drop your bag and walk quickly toward him meeting him half-way. You wrap your arms around him and jump up wrapping your legs around him, “You forgot something,” you whisper against his lips.

“Mmmm, wha’s tha’, Jezebel.”

Smiling and tightening your arms and legs, “I love you,” you say softly.

He smiles, “I love you more.”

“Ok, but just for today,” you reply.

The hotel door opens and you turn your neck and see Milena who calls out, “Hey, I’d say ‘get a room’, but you already have two, do you need a third?” You bury your face in his neck giggling. “Come on watermelon sugar, we need you in here.”

“Bye, my Jezebel,” he says squeezing your bum.

“Bye,” you return placing one last kiss on his jaw.

You jump down and walk toward the hotel room, making damn sure your ass moves just right in his view. You peek over your shoulder to see his eyes have gone dark. You blow him a kiss and keep on walking.

He shakes his head smirking. He loves your playful side so much.

In the room, you find a beautiful Helen dressed in a white satin robe and slippers, legs crossed in the hairdressers chair getting a stunning updo complete with woven in baby’s breath. She’s just breathtaking, and you can see the happiness written all over her face.

Hours later and lunch is eaten and hair and makeup is done and it’s almost time to walk to the courtyard. You’re standing behind Helen and looking in the mirror making final adjustments.

“Beautiful. Just beautiful,” you say, smoothing down her veil.

“Thank ya fo’ this. Fo’ everything.”

She turns around and faces you. “My sweet girl…I love ya s’much,” she says, hands on your cheeks.

“I love you too. I’m so happy we could do this for you.”

Down a floor, Harry helps Ron into his jacket and smooths his shoulders down. “Ya look great, Ron. Ya ready to get married again?”

Ron chuckles. “Thank ya, Harry. I’ll be forever grateful fo’ wha’ ya’ve done fo’ us.”

Harry blushes. “Ah, ya welcome. Happy ta do it.”

Ron turns around to face him. “When are ya gon’ do this? Walk our girl down the aisle, eh?”

Harry sucks his lips between his teeth. “I…I’m gonna…she’s the one.”

Ron smiles. “Good.”

Back in your suite, “When is Harry gonna throw you the wedding ya deserve sweet girl? I’ve seen how he looks at ya,” Helen says, gripping your hands.

You blush. “I don’t know. He’s talked about it. I guess I still don’t really believe it.”

“Ah my sweet girl. Ya better believe it. He’s in love with ya.”

“I hope so, Helen,” you take a deep sigh, “Almost ready? Harry’s gonna walk you down the aisle. I took a look earlier and, Oh Helen, it’s just gorgeous out there, spectacular.”

“One last photo, ma’am,” the scurrying photographer says. You both smile cheek to cheek. “That’s certainly one of the best shots. I’m off the take one last photo of the groom. Good luck, you look beautiful.”

“I don’t know how Harry tolerates having a lens in his face all the time,” Helen says pressing her hand on her tummy.

“Well, he says it’s much better now that we have the pink cottage, we call it our bubble, we just kinda live in our own world there,” you say shrugging your shoulders and straightening the neckline on Helen’s dress. “You know you two are a part of our little bubble world…thank you for that.”

She kisses both of your cheeks and takes a moment to make sure she didn’t leave any lipstick. “Oh my god! I’m about to get married again!”

“You sure are!” you say sharing her enthusiasm as you text Harry a quick message to say you’re ready. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror. Your navy-blue, satin, sleeveless dress fits you like a glove to the waist before it flairs into a tea length flounce. It’s impeccably made and the sweetheart neckline enhances your cleavage where Harry’s initial necklace hangs over your heart. Your matching Manalo Blahniks do incredible things for your legs. Harry’s gonna love them.

Down in Harry and Ron’s room the photographer takes one last photo of Harry shaking hands with Ron, when his phone dings with an incoming message.

“Looks like the ladies are ready!”

The photographer perks up and says he’ll escort Ron down to the courtyard and Harry makes his way to the elevator.

You’re applying one last swipe of lipstick when you hear a knock at the door. Helen, twists and turns, “Where should I go! Where should I go!” she says frantically.

“It’s just Harry, I bet Ron’s on his way down there,” you say calmly with a grin. She’s so cute you think to yourself. Forty-five years of marriage looks good on her.

You walk to the door, smooth your skirt and take a deep breath. “Why do I feel nervous…” you mutter to yourself.

You open the door to see your handsome man in a beautifully tailored black suit. You look him up and down then stop at his face.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Jezebel!” he says looking you up and down, “Goddamn!”

“Language, Harry…” Helen says from around the corner.

You grin, “You like?”

He twirls his finger, indicating that he wants you to spin around. On a tiptoe you spin and your dress flares as you do.

“God, ya so beautiful,” he says pulling you in, “’M one lucky son of a bitch. Sorry Helen,” he calls out to the room. He places one hand on the side of your neck, “May I kiss you?”

“I might die if you don’t.”

From the hallway, you hear a click and see the photographer has arrived to take a few more pics of the bride. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist, you’ll be so happy I captured that.”

“Gonna love gettin’ ya outta this dress later an’ seein’ wha’ ya have on under it,” he says in a whispered murmur against your ear. “Then in nothin’ more than my necklace an’ tha’ sexy stud in ya nose.” He pulls back with a very sly smirk and speaks up, “So where’s my other girl,” he calls out and winks at you.

Helen comes around the corner, fixing her earring, “Here I am!”

“Helen, my God, ya look amazing. Ron’s gonna be happy as fu—er, bloody happy, tha’s wha’ he’ll be. Ya a lovely bride, Miss Helen.”

“How is my Ronnie? Is he nervous?”

Harry chuckles and kisses her cheeks. “He’s no’ nervous at all. He can’t wait ta spend tha rest of his life wi’ ya.”

Helen puffs out a breath.

“Ya ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Ok, we’re all going down ta the lobby then.”

Helen goes out first, followed by you and Harry.

Once you make it to the lobby, Harry leads you to the French doors leading out to the courtyard. You and Helen both gasp at just how beautiful everything is. There are flowers everywhere and the aisle is a bed of rose petals with white wrought iron chairs lining the sides. You can just see the minister and Ron standing under a wrought iron arch with pink roses threaded all through it.

“It’s time, Helen. I’m gonna walk her down the aisle an’ then come back fo’ ya, yeah?”

Helen nods, awestruck.

Harry gives the signal and the music starts. He holds out his arm and you take it and you walk through the doors and down the aisle.

You make it to the front and then he leans in close to you, and kisses your cheek. “Next aisle ya walk down, ya’ll be in a white dress, jus’ know tha’,” he says and circles back to the French doors to walk Helen down the aisle leaving you with your mouth open, stunned.

You open and close your mouth a couple of times just standing there with your hand out to one side. Finally you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding and smile a very shy smile and smooth your dress. You look at Anne who has a confused look on her face. She mouths, “You Ok?” You nod your head and grin a goofy grin. Then you begin to pat your skirt on either side, feeling for the pockets. Damn you forgot Ron’s ring. Gemma stand up and runs her fingers over her ring finger and then points up slightly. You nod and she runs off to the side. Whew! Gemma will save the day. It’s amazing that she could read your mind, but then she’s your best friend for a reason.

The music queues up, everyone stands and your mind is on seeing Ron’s reaction. He blushes and coughs into his fist before wiping a tear. You turn your body to see a beautiful Helen on Harry’s arm. He’s covered the hand she has hooked on his elbow with his own and he’s grinning from ear to ear. You look at his hand and thankfully see Helen’s diamond circling his yellow tipped pinky finger. Thank god he remembered. He reaches Ron and places a kiss on Helen’s cheek, shakes Ron’s hand and places her arm on his. You see him whisper, something that ends with the word “forever,” then moves to stand to the side. He catches your eye, winks and mouths “love ya”. You feel a tap at your arm and find a panting Gemma who hands you Ron’s ring. You kiss her cheek and thank her. If that’s the worst thing that happens tonight, you’ll consider this wedding a success.

Ron is looking in the eyes of his beloved with so much love you it’s palpable. He looks her up and down and just shakes his head grinning like a teenager. He whispers, “Just wow,” and the twinkle lights and hanging lanterns turn on spontaneously. Helen looks up and around at all the trees, the arch, the table and she opens her mouth and looks back at Ron and giggles. The sun has just set below the horizon and it’s like the world lit up just for them.

The ceremony…well, to be honest you can’t remember much of it other than passing the ring when you’re asked and hearing them pledge their commitment to another forty-five years. It’s extremely hard to think past Harry’s comment and the eyes he’s making at you the entire time you’re stand there. At one point he bites his bottom lip and fidgets with his rings. You can’t help the tear that slides down your face when the minister tells Ron he can kiss his wife. You look away at first feeling like you’re intruding on a private moment, but when you do look, Ron has his hands on Helen’s cheeks as he pulls her face up to him. You can’t help but think about how Harry does that same thing with you. You wonder if he’ll do that on your wedding day. You suck in a breath, “Whoa,” you say softly wondering where that thought came from. Apparently, Harry heard you and is looking at you with his head cocked to one side and his brows furrowed in concern. You smile and shake your head and mouth, “I’m fine.” Harry smiles back and mouths, “Love ya”. Mr. and Mrs. Ron Chapman are introduced and the photographer is clicking away as they walk back up the walkway to everyone clapping and cheering.

Harry can’t stand it any longer as soon as they’re half-way up the walkway, he walks straight to you and uses his finger and thumb to hold your chin and places a soft kiss on your lips. You blush, thankful that most of the guests are looking at Ron and Helen. All of them except Anne, who is looking on with a soft teary smile. She’s clapping, but it’s directed at the two of you. Forehead to forehead you smile at each other. Finally, he offers his arm and you take it and work your way up the walkway. You greet Ron and Helen and offer kisses and hugs.

Hors d’ oeuvres and cocktails are served on the lawn while photos are being taken.

You’re posed by the arch to take a photo with the bride and groom when Harry leans over to whisper in your ear, “Las’ time we had professional photos taken we dinna ‘ave any clothes on.”

You burst out laughing causing Helen to look over at you. You put your hand over your mouth and shake your head, “I’m so sorry,” you say to the group.

“’F I remember correctly ya weren’t laughin’, bu’ ya did make a lotta noise.”

You squeeze his arm, “Stop! You’re in a mood tonight Mr. Styles,” you tell him in between more photos.

He looks at you and smirks. “Everyone knows weddings make people randy.”

You giggle. “Well, you’re gonna hafta wait because we have a reception to attend!”

He doesn’t get a chance to respond because the photographer is directing Ron and Helen to move over so she can get pics of the two of you and then releases you for individual photos of the Chapmans and then it’s time to eat.

The tables are rustic and covered in a lace runner with flowers on each side. There are fairy lights strung over the table and candles everywhere so even though the natural light is fading, you can see everyone perfectly. The wine is poured and the entrees are brought out and there’s bread and cheese and pasta and meat and everyone is talking and laughing and enjoying this perfect evening to celebrate two people you love very much.

Everyone’s mostly done eating so Harry stands up to make his toast, his fork clinking softly on his glass. “A chance meetin’ in Cornwall is how we met Ron an’ Helen. I bought a cottage there an’ needed a caretaker fo’ it. I had no idea they’d be caretakers for s’much mo’ than a cottage. Their love inspires me because after 45 years it’s stronger than ever. I love ya both an’ wish ya a lifetime of happiness. Cheers!”

Everyone raises their glasses and toasts the happy couple and as soon as he sits back down he turns and presses a kiss to your lips. “Love ya s’much,” he says, forehead pressed up yours.

You comb your fingers back through his hair. “Love you more.”

Just then the music starts up and the band announces it’s time for the couples dance. You watch silently as Ron twirls her around the dance floor, tears of joy falling down your cheeks. You gasp as you feel his hand push the skirt of your dress up until his hand is on the skin of your upper thigh and his long pinky finger moves backwards to gently caress your pussy over the silk of your barely there panties. You bite your bottom lip but never take your eyes off of the dancing couple. You can feel his breath hot on your neck when he says, “as soon as this dance is over, go ta the loo an’ take off these panties.”

“Harry!”

“Bet they’re soaked. Ya don’ need ‘em an’ I need access ta my cunt, understand?” He asks as his pinky presses a little harder against your center.

“Mmm!” You grunt out a little too loudly but fortunately everyone is preoccupied.

He smirks as the song ends. “Now,” he whispers in your ear and you hurry inside to remove your panties and wad them in your hand. You return to sit down next to him, but he’s not in the same space. You peer around seeing if maybe he was just speaking with someone, when suddenly you hear a guitar strum through the speakers. You turn to see him standing at the mic with his guitar and the girls standing in a semi-circle around him. You smile at him as you tuck your panties in your pocket. He notices and smirks before he speaks up. “We have a little something special planned for the bride and groom an’ any of ya out there who can relate ta the lyrics. We’ve slowed this down a bit an’ I hope ya like this version. Fo’ all the lovers out there…,” he strums a chord and begins, “Baby, you are the love of my life, Woah. Maybe you don’t know what’s lost till you find it…”

You see the concentration on his face as he does his best to convey what he’s feeling and his desire to sing with purpose. The couples at the table listening all sit a little closer and the partners listening to their lover sing are all a little bleary eyed. It’s a beautiful version, simple and heartfelt. You look over to Helen and she has tears rolling down her face and you can’t help the ones that fall from your eyes. Such a sweet gesture and such beautiful words. He can’t help but keep his eyes glancing to yours as he sings. You feel a little put on the spot as people catch his sight, but he’s claiming you unabashedly – he doesn’t hide his feelings and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. As the song comes to a close. He pulls the guitar strap over his head and sets it on the stand as everyone stands up, clapping and whistling. You’re standing over to the side with your hands clapping even as you fist a tissue. He catches your eyes and walks with determination toward you where he grabs your cheeks and places a very intense passionate kiss on your mouth. You hold on to his wrists and return the kiss feeling overwhelmed with the moment. Everyone sits and begins to chatter about how good that version was and all you can do is stare at him and smile.

“Ya OK, Jezebel?” he asks brushing your hair from your eye.

You nod and smile. “I’m perfect.”

He leans forward, “Do ya ‘ave somethin’ fo’ me?”

You reach in your pocket and pull out a fisted hand.

“Put’em in ma pocket,” he says and you do, hand trembling, heart pounding. “Good girl. Dance wi’ me,” he says as Tennessee Whisky starts to play.

There are Edison lights strung over the dance floor area and between those and the twinkle lights in the trees you couldn’t imagine anything more romantic. He twirls you around and pulls you in close, one hand on your lower back and the other over yours resting on his chest.

“Finally…,” he sighs, “Finally got ya alone an’ in ma arms. Missed ya. S’tough havin’ ta share ya wi’ everyone else.”

You chuckle, “Well, honey, I’m quite familiar with sharing you with everyone on the planet, Mr. Rockstar and resident sex symbol, but it’s really, really nice to be missed. I’ve missed you madly. This is a good thing we did here.” You both look over to Ron and Helen who are in a tight embrace and swaying to the music.

“We did, dinna we.” He leans into you, face to face, low voice, extra thick accent, “This s’our song an’ I ‘ave a confession, it really turns me on…ya look so fuckin’ hot in tha’ dress. Jus’ flittin’ ‘round all proper in it… an’ the freak in me jus’ wants ta see ya spread out, all undone fo’ me… ‘cause tha’s fo’ me only.” His hand on your lower back squeezes you closer.

“Well, you do have my panties in your pocket, mister.”

He leans in to whisper in your ear, “God, I wan’ ya. I wan’ tha’…” he says nodding toward Ron and Helen.

“Harry…” you whisper biting your bottom lip, glassy-eyed.

“Wanna talk ta ya abou’ it mo’, but no’ here…later…when ‘ve got ya in ma bed, yeah?”

You nod your reply and softly close your eyes. The song comes to a close and suddenly, Ron calls out “Play it again,” with Helen giggling with her face buried in his chest, blushing with embarrassment.

You both laugh and Harry mutters, “Knew I liked tha’ man. Mmmm, got tha sexiest woman here in ma arms.” He brushes your hair off your forehead and places a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

You lean your body in closer, “I love you too.”

“Christ, I gotta know…” he leans in close to your ear, “Are ya wet fo’ me?”

You nod and gulp at the same time.

“So tell me somethin’, wha’s ya number, one or two?” he asks with a smirk.

You offer a look of confusion. “Dunno, I’ll take a guess… ummm…two. Now what is it?”

“Two’s very nice…very, very nice,” he smirks and leans back to your ear, “s’tha number of fingers ‘m gonna put inside ya later.” You falter in your step feeling a jolt of weakness at his dirty talk. He grips you tighter, “Hold on, Jezebel,” he says with a chuckle. “How abou’ a number between one and ten?” he smirks again, very proud of his little game.

“Umm…six,” you reply with a shy giggle, slightly shrugging your shoulder with the feel of his warm breath on your neck just below your ear.

“Oooo, baby tha’s gonna be very, very fun…ya think ya can handle six orgasms?”

“Harry!” you whisper-shout looking around, “Your Mum is just over there!”

Completely ignoring your comment, he goes on. “S’a good thin’ we don’ leave early tomorrow…’m gonna spread ya out, all undone fo’ me tanight. I need it…I wan’ it. Need ta be inside ya.” The song comes to a close and you try to pull away, but he holds you tight. “Don’ wanna let ya go…meet me behind tha’ hedge over there…I need a proper kiss,” he says while you stand a little straighter and look around like you might get caught doing something naughty. He leans in, “Five minutes, understand?”

“They’re gonna cut the cake soon, H, we have to hurry,” you say grinning and playing with your necklace.

“Five minutes… go take a sip of ya champagne, politely s’cuse y’self an’ come ta me,” he says kissing your cheek.

You do as he asks, excuse yourself and try not to look guilty as you walk toward the hedge offering polite nods along the way.

A hand reaches out and pulls you in causing you to stumble on your heels and fall into his arms giggling.

He attacks your lips like a ravenous man on a mission. You lean up on tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. Arms wrapped around your waist, he lifts you as he opens his mouth to devour your lips.

“Mmhmm….hmmm…mmm…” you moan into the kiss.

Panting he pulls back for a breath, “Love ya s’much.”

“I love you, Harry, God, how I love you!” you stop to look around and see if anyone can see you.

“I wan’ ya heart, wan’ ya soul… mine are yours,” he says searching your eyes and breathing heavy. “I wan’ your forever. Be mine?”

“Harry, I dunno what you’re asking? But you have my forever, you have my heart and my soul,” you say holding his cheeks and staring into his eyes.

He shakes his head frustratedly, “Fuck! No’ now, s’ Ron an’ Helen’s day… jus’ know it in here,” he holds his hand over your heart.

You smile and nod your head, “I know…I know…”

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to cut the cake, if you’ll all gather together,” the event planner announces on over the speakers.

You put out a pouty bottom lip. “Thank god we don’t have to clean up after this, we can get to our room soon…my feet are killing me,” you say against his lips.

He dives in for another passionate kiss just as you’re trying to walk away, “Killin’ me, babe, swear I’ll rub ya feet tanight, promise.”

“Harry, we gotta go!” you whisper-shout trying to pull away.

“One more,” he says pulling you in once again and kissing across your jaw to below your ear causing your body to break out in goosebumps. He pulls you to him pulling your skirt up just enough for him to cup your wet pussy.

“Mmmm, Jesus swee’heart,” he says running his middle finger through your slit.

You let out a groan and break away, rounding the corner while you straighten your dress. Soon as you get around the hedge you run into Helen, who looks at you, sucks in her lips and pulls a leaf out of your hair. A few moments later Harry rounds the hedge with his middle finger in his mouth. You turn to look at him, eyes bulging when you see him sucking his finger. You look back to Helen who is slightly bent over giggling.

“Well, I was looking for you sweet girl. After we cut the cake, we’re having Cal take us back to the villa. I’m not going to throw my bouquet because I just don’t believe in leaving things up to a toss…I’m giving it to who I want to have it. Here, love,” she says passing the beautiful bundle of flowers to you. You look up at Harry who has his hand on your lower back.

You throw your arms around her neck. “I love you, Helen. Thank you so much. Let’s go cut that beautiful cake and find your handsome groom.”

You watch smiling as Ron and Helen cut the cake and feed it to each other. You’re so happy for them. This is the wedding they should’ve had all those years ago.

Harry’s just behind you, his arms around your waist and he can’t help but look down and see how happy you are. He squeezes you to him tighter. I always want her to be this happy, he thinks to himself. He smiles as you lean back and place a kiss under his jaw. “Don’ go an’ get me mo’ riled up than I already am, Jezebel,” he says, voice raspy in your ear and you shiver, your hands over his on your waist tightening.

Everyone sits down again at the tables and eats the cake and you can’t help but swipe some buttercream on your index finger and pop it in your mouth making sure that he’s watching.

He squints his eyes. “Askin’ fo’ it an’ ya already gon’ get it,” he whispers in your ear.

You gulp and eat the last bite of your cake.

Ron and Helen stand up and everyone looks at them. Ron clears his throat and addresses the group. “We’re leavin’ bu’ jus’ wanted ya thank ya fo’ sharin’ this mo’ with us. We never got ta have the fancy wedding tha’ Helen deserved an’ we appreciate it mo’ than you’ll ever know. Goodnight everyone,” he finishes grabbing Helen’s hand.

“The Chapmans’ ladies and gents! Everyone please gather round and let’s send them off in style!”

You all jump up and then it’s a flurry of hugs and kisses and well wishes and so glad I met you’s and then it’s your turn to say goodbye.

“Ah, my sweet girl. Take care of yaself an’ thank ya.” Helen says hugging you closely.

“I love you so much,” you tell her squeezing her tighter.

“Love ya too sweet girl.”

Ron shakes Harry’s hand and then leans in close. “Put a ring on our girls finger why don’ ya. Thank ya fo’ everythin’.”

Harry chuckles. “Ya welcome. Go! Enjoy your honeymoon!”

You kiss Ron’s cheeks and Helen kisses Harry’s cheeks and then they’re off in a shower of flower petals.

He hugs you from behind. “Was a good night.”

“It was, yeah.”

“One last dance and then we’ll go, yeah?”

You nod and smile.

You see him walk to Ny, Elin and Sarah and then they all walk to the stage. You furrow your brow. What in the world?

He walks back to you smirking and then you hear the opening of At Last and then you’re in his arms as you hear their beautiful voices harmonize and tears spring to your eyes.

“You did this?”

He smiles and nods. “Been plannin’ it fo’ a while.”

You squeeze the hand that he’s holding to his chest. “Thank you,” is all you can say. You don’t realize you’re the only one’s dancing until the song comes to an end and he spins you and dips you and then everyone claps.

“My feet hurt so much, babe,” you say slowly limping off the dance floor. “I can fix that,” he says, acting like he’s going to pick you up. “No way! Harry!” you whisper-shout to get his attention, “I don’t have on any panties and that is absolutely out of the question! I’ll just go barefoot….”

He looks at your through thoughtful eyes and then pops his eyebrows up, “Can fix this, hang on, darling.”

He jogs into the front desk and comes back with a pair of white fluffy house shoes, you can’t help but grin from ear to ear. You hobble over to a chair and take a seat. He kneels down and gently takes off your expensive shoes and slips on the house shoes. You wiggle you toes and groan in relief, then lean forward and brush your hand down his cheek, “So good to me…just so good to me….”

Milena and Gemma are looking on and Mil says, “Looks like Prince Charming found the girl to fit his slippers."

Gemma takes a deep breath and releases it in satisfaction, “Yeah, I think he has…she’s perfect for him. Like two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly and paint the most beautiful picture.”

“Aww, Gems that was the sweetest thing to say!,” Mil says throwing her arm around her.

“He’ll always be my baby brother and I want the very best for him. He doesn’t have it easy…it’s not always easy living his life – I just want them happy,” She says with a sniffle.

You shiver as the night air is cooling off. Harry wraps his jacket around your arms. “Shall we say some quick goodbyes an’ get outta here, ma love?” he says grabbing your shoes and helping you stand.

You nod your head ready to close the night and get comfortable in your suite. After making the rounds, you walk side by side with your head on his shoulder, your shoes in his hands. He turns his face toward your temple and places a kiss. You hear a click and turn your heads inward over you shoulders to find the photographer smiling. You both look up at each other and laugh and he captures another shot of that moment. “Does she have a non-disclosure agreement?” you ask.

“Yep,” he replies softly.

“Just don’t want those pictures to be sold to the highest bidder, she’s captured some really special moments and I want those piccies to be just for us,” you say stopping to take one last look at him in the soft light before you have to enter the building where the lights are bright.

“I’ll make sure we ‘ave plenty of photos, swear ta god, never wanna forget this nigh’”

“Thanks for my slippers,” you say looking down at your feet on the elevator ride. When he doesn’t respond you look at him and he’s giving you a hard stare, once he finally blinks a tear drops onto his shirt.

“Oh baby,” you say running your thumb under his eye, “You must be exhausted.”

“No, no’ tired in tha least,” he says turning to place a kiss on your forehead, “Jus’ happy…an’…let me take care of ya tanight?” His kiss lingers and you close your eyes. ‘

“That sounds amazing, I really want a quick bath… don’t think I can relax until I wash some of this busy day away.”

“Lemme do it fo’ ya?” he pleads quietly.

“Yeah, but I…”

“No, swee’heart, I really need ta do this, please?”

You smile nodding and squeeze his hand, pushing into him so close his jacket begins to fall off your shoulders.

Just as the elevator arrives, he bends down and pick you up bridal style.

“Oof, Harry!”

“Just go wi’ it, Jezebel…no complainin’”

You wrap your arms around his neck in reply as he walks toward the door to your suite.. “Carry me to our room, H,” you lean in close to his ear, “Make love to me tonight, take me however you want me, make me yours.”

His adam’s apple bobs and he clenches his jaw. You can tell he’s holding something back, but you don’t push. It’s been a long couple of days and there’s no sense in pushing right now on the tail end of such a lovely night.

As you enter through the double doors of your suite, Harry mutters, “threshold,” so softly you could barely make it out.

“What’re you doin’ baby?” you ask curiously.

“Jus’ don’ wanna forget,” he says shyly blinking.

He puts you down at the foot of the bed and you plop backwards with a big sigh. “Lemme go get the water started. Share a bottle of water wi’ me?” he says cocking his head to take in the sight of you hair flared out on the duvet, breasts swelling out against the tight dress top, necklace askew and lying gently between your collarbones. “Ya s’ fuckin’ beautiful…”

You smile, “Why thank you handsome, you’re not too bad ya’self,” you tease back.

He grabs a bottle of water from the wet bar and begins to tug on his tie knot as he walks into the bathroom. You sit up and move your hand toward the side zipper on your dress. “Don’t touch that zipper, Jezebel, I wanna unwrap ma gift tanight.”

You smile to yourself and nod your head like he could see, “M’Kay.” Instead you pull the backs from your earrings and step to place them on the table.

He comes back and he’s untucked and unbuttoned his white dress shirt but left it open. The button on his black trousers is popped open and his feet are bare. In other words, he looks positively edible.

You shake your head and bite your bottom lip, “God you’re hot, Harry.”

“Lemme unwrap my gift, Jezebel.” Holding both your cheeks he leans forward to place a gentle kiss to which you open your mouth and lick you tongue out to let him know you want more of him. He opens his mouth and bites down on your bottom lip. His breathing has picked up. You run your hands up his abdomen and slide the shirt off his shoulders. He’s sucking on your tongue when you pop away to lean forward to kiss the wings of first one swallow and then the other. He reaches under your arm and pulls the zipper down and the dress falls open. “Wha’ are ya wearin’ under this dress, love?”

“Well, you have my panties and I didn’t want bra lines, so I have nothing on under it at the moment.

Closing his eyes and moaning, he reaches down to palm his cock. “Fuck me, baby…thank god I dinna know abou’ tha’ all night, I’d never ‘ave made it.”

Pulling the sleeves down your arm you slip the dress down. The fabric rubs across your very hard nipples causing you to take an inhale of breath and your eyes to flutter.

“Sensitive, innit?” You nod your head on an exhale and rest your forehead on his chest. “Hold on fo’ me, love, let’s get in tha tub so you can relax, then I promise I’ll make ya feel good.”

“Been holding on all night, H…”

“Me too, Jezebel… me too,” he says kissing the top of your head and running his hands up and down your arms.

In the bathroom you pop your hair up in a messy bun and turn to watch Harry finish undressing. You aren’t shy about watching his every movement and you do it without breaking eye-contact. Finally, you turn to look in the mirror, “Harry, I love my make-up, it looks so sexy, but…”

“Take it off… wash it off. I wanna kiss my baby, not her make-up,” he says running his hand down your lower back. You exhale a relaxing breath so glad to get your skin clean. He leaves his hand there on your lower back rubbing soothing circles around and around watching as you apply your cleanser then rinse it clean. You pick up your moisturizing cream and he takes it from your hand, “Lemme do that in the tub,” he says carrying it to the tub.

You settle between his legs in the warm water and can’t help the groan that leaves your chest. “Oh, my, god…feels so good.” With your head back against his chest he rubs in a tiny dab of moisturizer on your cheeks and forehead, around your nose and chin, up and down your throat. Who knew that could be one of the most erotic, care-taking acts he’s ever done? “Skin’s so soft and light. Thank ya fo’ lettin’ me do this.”

“Are you kidding? Honey…Mmmm…feels so good.”

He leans down to kiss you lightly. You raise your arm and thread your fingers in the back of his hair, your other hand resting on his knee. The water level is just so that it laps up against your nipples. They’re so hard and crinkled at both the cool air and the intense arousal you feel. One of his hands is rubbing soothing circles on your tummy, his other hand resting on your thigh. You close your eyes and can’t help the slight arch in your back as the water laps against your breasts. You feel his cock twitch and surge with blood. “Touch them…please,” you plead.

“Mmmm…babe…let’s see if I can make ya cum from jus’ playin’ wi’ these little berries, hmm?”

His hand slides up to cup your breasts and whispers in your ear, “Love these tits, they’re s’soft an’ sensitive ta my touch, how’s tha’ feel?” he says running his thumbs back and forth and circling just outside your nipples.

“Feels so good, dress was so tight on them, and I…I…I wanted you so much, they felt heavy and achy,” you say positioning your mouth so you can get a kiss from him. “Kiss me, and pinch them, please,” you plead sliding your legs back and forth against his legs. You look down at his finger, yellow polish still on his fingernails, thank god, something about his nails being painted just turns you inside out.

“Wanna make ya cum s’bad, jus’ wanna see ya let go fo’ me.”

You fist the hair on the back of his head, it’s getting a little longer, there’s more to tug on. You can’t help the swirl of your hips, the bow of your back.

“Ya feel it don’ ya, baby?”

“Touch me more.”

“If I were going ta touch ya where would ya wan’ me ta touch ya? Would ya wan’ me ta run ma fingers over ya little swollen clit? Jus’ imagine how good ma fingers would feel wi’ all this warm water. Fuck me, Jezebel, my cock is s’hard for you,” he says kissing the side of your cheek with an open mouth. “But s’different tanight, I wan’ ya ta feel ma love while we make love… while we fuck, because, baby, trust me if we’re fuckin’ ‘m still makin’ love to ya. An’ I love ya so god damn much…all the parts of ya, this heart,” he says running his flat palm over your heart, “this brain,” he says smoothing the hair off your forehead, “this soul,” he places both hands on your tummy, “When we fuck, I get ta touch an’ see a little bit of tha’ soul, a part nobody else gets ta see…’m obsessed wi’ it, when ya cum, s’like ya heart busts wide open fo’ me.

“Harry, I don’t think I can cum without more,” you cry out turning your head toward him seeking out his mouth, his tongue.

“See, I think ya can, Jezebel, jus’ keep listening an’ keep lettin’ go…move ya hips fo’ me…yeah, jus’ like tha’. I’m gonna get inside ya later,” he says raising one hand to pinch your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “So deep inside ya… ya gon’ let me in, hmm? Been dying’ ta get in my wet cunt all nigh’.”

You cry out when he says that, and raise your hand to cover his as you feel him tugging and rubbing your nipple. “I wan’ ya ta cum jus’ fo’ me, I wan’ ya orgasm, fall apart fo’ me, beautiful, jus’ let go…”

“Harry, Ha..Ha..Har…Oh.. Oh.., it’s cumming, it’s cumming,…,” you start to sob out tears your head thrown back, eyes screwed shut with a pained look on your face, “No, I’m empty inside, no, no, no,” you wiggle and squirm.

He can’t take your tears, so he slides his hand down and curls his middle and ring finger inside you as your tummy begins contracting and your thighs start shaking quickly. You pull your legs up on either side of the tub pulling your knees up as he slowly pumps his fingers working you through your orgasm.

“There she is…tha’s my girl…,” he smiles proudly against your cheek, “Cum on my fingers…so beautiful, so beautiful, I love ya, I love ya so much…I love this…I love this, don’t stop, baby keep goin’…ya got another one fo’ me, I know it, I can feel it…cum s’hard fo’ me…let’s go again.” He lowers his voice and props his mouth closer to your ear, “Gonna find our spot, s’it full fo’ me? Hmm? S’ya tummy full for me? I know it’s righ’…,” he curls his fingers and applies the slightest pressure along with his “come hither” motion, “Here.”

“AHHHH…AHHHH…,” the second orgasm comes barreling through and you throw your head back even further his mouth open next to your ear.

“Jesus Christ…Fuck, Jezebel! Can feel ya slick cum on ma hand even in tha water,” he whispers in your ear as your body gushes out wetness with every contraction.

“No, no, no! Stop, stop, stop. Too Much!” you say trying to push his hand away.

He leaves his hand over your mound just running it back and forth, “Hey, Jezebel…talk ta me? Ya alrigh’?”

You’re panting, eyes closed, and you turn to your side pull your knees up, catching his hand between your legs still cupping your pussy, and curl into him letting out a soft exhale. You slide your hand up to his neck, “I’m good…it’s just so intense and still embarrasses me a little.”

“I don’ wan’ it ta embarrass ya,” he thrusts his hips behind you, “Ya feel tha’? Tha’s because my sexy girlfriend is so fuckin’ hot when she cums,” he kisses the top of your head, “Listen to me Jezebel, your body gives me everythin’ an’ I fuckin’ love it. Ya do it fo’ me, an’ I know ya body an’ ya body knows me an’ gives me wha’ I wan’. I love everythin’ tha’ happens when we fuck. I love when ya let go like tha’, truthfully, makes me feel like a beast. But ’m sorry ‘f we went to far tanight, maybe s’too much fo’ tanight?”

“No, no, it’s the best release, you just can’t imagine, and it makes me feel…,” you hide your face in his chest.

“Makes ya feel wha’, love?” he pulls your chin up to meet his eyes.

“Makes me feel very…loved, and very sexual. Is that weird? Just feels like our special thing, like it’s our love and our secret. My heart does burst when I cum for you.”

He smiles softly, nosing your cheek sweetly, “S’not weird at all, nothin’ abou’ ya is weird, yeah?” he smiles and kiss your nose, “Let’s rinse each other off wi’ some warmer water an’ go have a cuddle.”

“Cuddles later maybe? I wanna make love, please. I..I’m so open an..and sensitive right now, and I need to feel you.” You stop to stare up at him, “Harry, I know something is on your mind, I feel it and I see it,” he searches your eyes with a hard stare, “I wanna soothe whatever it is that’s bothering you, I wanna make love.”

He’s still staring hard into your eyes and normally you want to look down and away from his penetrating stare, but somethings changed. You’ve never felt more loved and accepted than you do with him and you’re starting to believe him when he says you’re his forever.

His eyebrows go up a tic when you don’t break his stare and he smiles.

You can’t help but smile back at him. “Take me to bed, Harry.”

You feel his cock twitch against your side and you pull the plug and rinse each other off with some warm water. You step out of the tub, grab a towel and slowly dry yourself off, never taking your eyes off of him.

He licks his lips as he watches you move the towel over your body. God, she’s so beautiful, he thinks. As your hand moves down your leg, he can’t help but imagine a diamond on your ring finger. He’s known for a while that he wanted to marry you but after everything that’s happened these last two days, the urge to make it official is stronger than it’s ever been.

You pull a fresh towel and hold it out for him. He takes it from you, making sure to graze your fingers with his and you shiver.

He dries himself off while you shamelessly admire every inch of his naked skin and you can feel a shot of arousal shoot through your body.

He drops his towel to the ground and moves so he’s standing in front of you. His hands move up to your face and cup your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours. As much as he’s aching for your touch, his kisses are soft and wet and just enough to have you leaning in for more. “Go lay in the middle of the bed, ma pillow under ya hips, legs spread, fingers holding yourself open fo’ me,” he says, the back of his fingers trailing down your neck to your nipple. “Can ya do tha’ fo’ me?”

You gulp and breathe out, “yes.”

He smiles against your lips. “Good. Go now.”

You turn and walk to the bedroom and your body breaks out in goosebumps. You can tell that he’s watching your every move. You crawl on the bed and position yourself the way he asked you to. He comes to the end of the bed, crawls up in between your legs, eyes drinking you in, every curve of your body, noting your flushed cheeks, and your chest heaving in anticipation, your fingers slightly trembling as they hold your pussy open for him. His fingers run down your slit and you cry out, a soft cry of his name. “Love when ya say ma name like tha’, fuck.” His hands move to your breasts and cup them, thumbs rubbing back and forth over your hard nipples. “I wanna get ya close, bu’ I don’ wan’ ya ta cum, yeah? Wan’ ya ta hang fo’ me as long as ya can. Tell me when ya get ta our lovespace, yeah?”

You nod. “Yes, wan’t you to take us there.”

He smiles as he bends his head and licks a stripe up your slit. He uses the pointed tip of his tongue to collect your honey at your entrance and bring it up to your swollen clit. He does it again and again and then he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue working against you.

“Ha…ahhhh…oh my god…Harry!”

He pulls back and wipes his chin, fingers moving slowly up and down your clit.

“Ya there?”

You nod slowly. “Yes…mmmm…” you giggle, “feels so…”

He blows on your clit.

“Ahhh! Ohhhh…do it again.”

He slides two fingers into your dripping entrance and curls then to your g spot, loving the sounds you’re making. He slowly curls his fingers and then blows on your clit again.

You clench and he watches, transfixed. He does it again and you clench again.

“Mmmm…ohhhh…ohhh….again.”

He blows again and this time he suctions back to your clit, moving his tongue slowly. He’s careful not to push you over the edge.

“Cl….close….mmmm….so close…gonna….oh…gonna cum, can’t hold it!”

He pops off. “Hold it fo’ me Jezebel. Wanna be inside ya when ya cum fo’ me.”

He moves your hands from your pussy and positions himself. He’s so hard and your hips are at the perfect angle for him to slide in.

“Ahhhhhh…mmmm…” Your hands grip his biceps and you gasp as he bottoms out.

He leans over you until he’s pressed up against you, chest to chest.

You close your eyes as he starts moving, just barely leaving you and then swirling his hips as he thrusts back in.

“Eyes on me, Jezebel. Wanna see ya eyes when ya cum on ma cock,” he says, voice raspy, accent getting thicker with arousal.

You force yourself to open your eyes and you gasp as you move your hips under his.

“God, ya s’sexy an’ ya feel s’goddamn good. Can feel ya pulsin’ around me, Jezebel. Dream about the way this feels, about the way ya feel round me,” he pants out.

“I’m cumming! Harry, I’m…Ohgodohgod,” you cry out, the dam bursting and your back arching up into his body as you cum around him.

He stops and just watches, he’s on the verge himself, but something so intense is happening on your face. His mouth is slack, lips wet with both of your saliva. This is my woman, I do this to her, he thinks to himself. As caveman as that sounds…This. Is. My. Mate. I want her, I need her.

You’re panting and so sensitive, he’s still so hard. You groan and flex on him, “H?” you whisper, opening your eyes wider slightly concerned, your body still pulsing. “Don’t you wanna cum inside me?” you ask running your hand through the hair on the back of his head.

He smiles…then slightly shakes his head like he’s pulling himself from a trance. “Jus’ love watchin’ ya cum, it’s so beautiful…so sexy…” he leans down to kiss you. You wrap your legs around his waist, and with the pillow propped under your hips and your legs now pulled up, he slides just slightly deeper.

You run your hand down his back to pull on his bum, “You’re in so deep and it still doesn’t feel …close enough and I’m…still…,” the walls of your pussy start pulsing, “mmm, baby… I’m still...,” you pant, “I wanna watch you cum too.” He swivels his hips and takes in a deep breath and holds it, “No, don’t hold back, Harry…want more….”

He growls his need, pulls back and snaps forward causing you to squeal in delight and him to groan deeply. “Yeah…keep going, honey…,” you encourage.

His lips are slack his eyes glazed over with need. He pulls back again and pounds back in. “’M gonna fuckin’ cum s’hard an’ deep inside ya, gonna fill ya up…ya hear me, Jezebel? Gonna cum s’hard in this pussy, ma cunt, been holdin’ back all day an’ trying no’ ta think abou’ fuckin’ ya, an’ tha harder I tried no’ to, tha harder ma cock got.” He’s pounding you into the mattress, having finally lost control and you couldn’t be more happy. “Cummin’, I’m cummin’ in ya, feelllll ittt…Errrrrr, uh, uh, uh,” he’s still and his entire body is stiff as he pulses, twitches and spurts inside you. You can feel the warmth of his cum, flood your body and push out around his cock, rolling down your backside.

He suddenly falls onto your body, relaxed, but panting out his breath. “’M I hurtin’ ya?” he asks from your neck where his face is buried.

“God no,” you say smoothing your hands up and down his back, then curling your fingers so you can scratch his back lightly up and down with your manicured nails. “Feel good, feel better?” you ask. You feel him nod his head.

He pulls his head up and kisses your lips tenderly. “I love ya.”

“I love you too,” you say looking from eye to eye, “Baby, is something wrong? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’ve been amazing this week, you just seem distracted and like there’s something on your mind. Did I do something?” Your brows furrow in concern.

He rubs his thumbs on your cheekbones. “Oh babe, yeah…I mean… somethin’ IS on ma mind, an’ yeah, ya did do somethin’, but it’s not what you think…’s definitely no’ something wrong…” he kisses your nose, “s’oh, so right. So, so right.”

You smile, relieved. “You can talk to me about anything,” you say rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“Well…” he gulps staring into your eyes, “Jezebel…how do ya feel about marriage? I mean, is it archaic an’ old-fashioned ta ya…have ya ever thought abou’ bein’ married?”

You grin and shrug your shoulder, “I’d really like to be married, it’s not archaic or old-fashioned to me, it’s a sweet commitment and I always hoped to find someone who loved me enough to wanna spend the rest of their life with me. What about you?”

He grins happily, “Well, ‘m gonna spend tha rest of ma life lovin’ ya, I know tha’ an’ ‘ve just been wonderin’ fo’ a while now wha’ ya’d say ‘f I asked ya?”

You return his grin, “Umm, Har-ry? Did you just ask me to marry you while you’re still inside me?”

He touches his forehead to yours, “Fuck… ’m sorry, dinna... this isn’t romantic, swear ta Christ, baby, I’ll do it again…”

Your body clenches on him, causing him to pull back slightly and smirk.

“Babe? D’ya jus’…”

You bite you bottom lip and slowly blink your eyes, “Well, if you were to ask, then I would probably ask if I could take your name too.”

“Baby, you can ha…wait, d’ya jus’ say ya’d say yes?” he interrupts himself.

You just giggle and nod frantically running your fingertips up and down his sides.

He grins and it turns into furrowed brows, “’m so so sorry for,” this he shakes his head looking around, “swear, I’ll do better, s’jus’ ya wanted to know wha’ was on ma mind, an’ I won’t ever, ever lie ta ya, so I jus’ told ya. S’been on ma mind fo’ a while….”

“I love you, Harry… there’s never going to be another for me.”

“I love you, babe an’ I wan’ wha’ Ron an’ Helen hav’, been so scared no one would ever wan’ me fo’ me, tha’ somethin’ like tha’ would jus’ be somethin’ I’d hav’ ta live without. I mean, most people who do wha’ I do have tha shittiest luck at forever love.”

“Well, they aren’t you and me. We’ll make our own forever last, with a lot of hard work and keeping ourselves real.” You brush your fingers through his hair. “Things’ll be hard, extra hard because of our situation, but this kind of love is worth the work, right? Like…I know it’s about to get so crazy with, movie premieres and more travel, but we’ll make it work.”

He presses his lips to yours as he pulls out, pressing several kisses to your lips. “Be right back.”

Your hands run down his arms as he gets up and your head falls back to the pillow and you smile a smile of pure joy. You want to pinch yourself. Is this real? You feel like you’re gonna wake up at any minute.

He comes back with a warm cloth and gently cleans you up and he chuckles. “We made a proper mess, Jezebel,” he says as he pulls the pillow out from under your hips.

You watch as his eyebrows go up and you know that look. “What?”

“Hold on,” he says getting up and going to the dresser and picking up the amethyst ring Stevie gave him and comes back over to the bed.

You sit up and he sits down in front of you.

“This ring means a lot ta me because Stevie gave it ta me,” he says slipping it on the ring finger of your left hand.

You both stare at your finger in awe.

“Wanted ta see how it’d look,” he says.

You look up and meet his eyes. “Harry…” you breathe out, your right hand subconsciously fingering your bee necklace.

“Looks beautiful on ya, Jezebel.”

“I love you, Harry.”

“I love ya too. Forever.”

#permanent love part 2 #original content #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #friends to lovers

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