#destination wedding movie

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part VI

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

VI. Sleeping Restfully

 Every time you wake during the night, Frank is clinging to you. With his heavy arm draped over your waist, or his head upon your breast. 

You don’t sleep well, but you hold him, savoring it while you can. And when the morning light starts gently creeping through the window, and you feel his morning wood enthusiastically pressing against your hip, you decide to give him something to remember you by. You burrow beneath the covers, taking his velvety tip between your lips. He makes a sound in his sleep, but does not wake.

After you take him deep into the back of your throat a few times, those mindless sounds shift to moans of appreciation. “Baby…” His voice is thick with sleep, his long fingers twist in your hair, half guiding you, half just holding on. “Fuck. So good.”

You slow down a little, now that you have his attention. You enjoy working his thick shaft with your lips and teeth and tongue–he tugs on you, urging you up, but you savor his beautiful dick just a little longer.

It hurts to think, it might be the last time.

“Please? Come up here…” He pulls on your shoulders, and after dislodging yourself with a pop you comply, emerging from under the duvet to straddle him. You are soaking wet, a fucking mess from your earlier activities and your little diversion now, your needy cunt swollen and ready as you grind against him.

You don’t say anything, just look into his big brown disbelieving eyes as you slowly impale yourself on his proud cock. You fuck him like that, making unapologetic eye contact until his thumb finds your clit, and you are lost in the madness that is his body inside yours–a part of you suspects you will never feel this good again. 

You cum with a sob, and he right with you, filling you with one last rush of that hot, luscious spend between your legs. You cling to each other as you ride out the aftershocks of your climaxes, soothing each other with kisses and soft panting in the bends of your necks.

It is the sweetest thing you’ve ever known.

You do not say a thing, as you pull back to look at him, taking in every little detail so you can imprint it upon your heart. It’s a face you wouldn’t mind seeing in the morning on a regular basis, but apparently that was not an option with this man.

He looks at you as though he is drowning, but he does not ask you to stay, as you tenderly kiss his forehead, and extricate yourself from him. You gather your clothes, not looking at him once, before you retreat back through the adjoining door to your room.

Only later do you realize you accidentally took his black t-shirt too. You press the fabric to your face, inhaling deeply. It smells wonderfully, heartbreakingly like him, and you stash it in your suitcase.

***

A part of you just wants to skip the stupid farewell brunch–but you’re hungry, and it’s free. You put on your last sundress, a beachy paisley print number, and descend downstairs on heavy legs.

You freeze in the lobby when you find Frank standing there– in one of his jeans and sport coat combos that for some reason crosses the wires in your brain–as though he’s waiting for you. It takes you a few long seconds to remember that you haven’t done anything wrong, and you don’t have to hide from him. 

It’s somewhat heartening, when you realize he feels just as awkward as you do. “Hey,” he says softly, holding up his hands, as though he can’t stop himself from reaching for you. The impulse is quickly quashed by him shoving said hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” you say just as softly, as though if you speak too loudly, you might break this fragile thing between you. 

“Can we…hang out? Until we get home, at least?”

The point in which he can safely ditch you at the airport, you can’t help but think. But you don’t want to fight. You can’t make this man want to see you again, after this weekend has gone. So you just nod, and you know he knows you’re not ok. You see it in his big soft eyes. For a self-proclaimed nihilist, this man is strangely empathetic. Perhaps because he spends his time over-analyzing everything, just to come to the same conclusion: everything is shit, and everyone is out to hurt him. 

You are so glad you’re already wearing your sunglasses–and that your mascara is waterproof.

You vaguely wonder what this big strapping man would do if you took him by the shoulders and shook him.

You walk to the hotel terrace together in silence. No one is more surprised than you, when he takes your hand under the table, though he won’t meet your eyes.

You are more than happy to share a ride back to the airport early. You decide you are ready for this weekend to be done. Monday can’t possibly  hurt any more than this.

On the plane, with one of the tiny complimentary bottles of regional red wine in you, you finally get up the courage to say something about all this. “You’re going to wish you’d embraced the miracle.” 

Frank, who wasn’t exactly relaxed sitting by you, lost in his thoughts, somehow stiffens even more.

“Please don’t do this now,” he pleads. “We are an hour away from parting as friends.” 

You shrug, suddenly, if not fatalistically, amused. “What’s it matter?” you ask. “If you never want to see me again?”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to see you again. I said it won’t happen, because that’s how these things go.”

“You don’t think that’s a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

“Just being a realist.”

“What if I, heaven forbid, took matters into my hands to prove you wrong?”

Somehow, this man manages to frown all while his mouth twitches, trying not to smile.

“I think I would be alarmed.”

“You’re saying that if I showed up in the lobby of J.D. Power with a boombox playing In Your Eyes you would send me away?”

“I wouldn’t have to. Security in the building would.”

“Hmm. They could try, but I’m pretty fast.” You slide him a conspiratorial grin, your bravado definitely lubricated by wine. “I outran a mountain lion one time, you know.” 

Now, he does smile with you, even if reluctantly. “I thought it was a lynx?”

“Basically the same thing…”

“Uh huh.” He looks down at you, and you don’t think you’re inventing the warmth of fondness in his gaze.

“You’re going to wish you embraced the miracle…” you urge him again, willing him to relent, just a little. 

“Y/n…” There is exasperation in that word, but also tenderness. It’s there, and it’s real, and you want to grab on to this man and not let go. Instead, you sit with your hands in your lap, dying inside as you force yourself to behave like an adult and not wail and kick and scream. 

“You're going to miss me.”

“Like a migraine.” He's grasping for insults. You can tell his heart isn't really in it now. 

“You're going to go back to your important job manipulating the hearts and minds of the American people, and you're going to say to yourself, 'Wow, I miss that girl who called me on all my shit.'”

The corner of his mouth twitches. 

“Because who doesn't like having their sanity challenged at every turn?”

“You're going to be so bored.”

“How will I live with myself? Alone, doing exactly what I want to do, exactly when I want to do it?” 

You go on like you didn’t hear him, “And you're going to say to yourself, 'I really have a hankering for an engraved rock. Maybe a full set of Live Laugh Love. And you'll come find my shop. The Salty Siren. Right on the beach. I won't even say ‘I told you so.’”

“That's not going to happen, y/n.” He says it gently, and you can almost taste the regret. 

You look away, that unbearable feeling brewing in your chest, that warm ball imploding on itself like a black hole, eating away at you. 

“Your loss.”

He is studiously looking out the window, his hand clenched in a fist on his knee. He says nothing in reply, and that is when you're certain the magic of the weekend is dead. That even if deep down he would like to give the two of you a chance–he’s too much of a coward to take the leap.

Don’t Say Goodbye 

“I know what you’re going to say,” you tease as you walk towards the taxi stand, trying to pretend like your bones are not leaden with dread of the moment in which you will truly have to say goodbye. “It’s not me, it’s you…”

“It’s definitely you,” he fires back with zero venom, a surprising softness in his eyes. When you sigh and roll your eyes he amends quietly, “It’s definitely me.”

He could have knocked you over with a feather when he offers a hug–and he is the last one to let go. “It was very nice to meet you, y/n.” Oh God. Why does he have to be amicable now? It makes it hurt twice as badly, than if he'd been an asshole. When he bows to you before opening your taxi door for you, loading in your bag, your heart lodges in your throat. Because this man knows how to act like a gentleman. He can be so sweet, when he wants to, and the thought that he thinks himself unloveable tears your heart in two. 

“Frank…”

You just stare at each other with the door of the taxi open, you half in the car.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks.

“I guess so.” Anything, to prolong the inevitable. 

“You dodged a bullet, not marrying Keith.”

“Ok.”

“But he was a fool to let you go.”

It almost would have felt better, if he’d stabbed you.

“Thanks.” 

And you just keep staring at each other, neither of you really ready to let go. It almost annoys you. Why? Why does it have to end this way? It makes you say with more than a little bravado you don’t really feel: 

“We're holding up the line, Frank. There are other people in the world.”

“There are?”

He looks at you with a sparkle in those beautiful chocolate brown eyes, and you feel yourself slipping down, falling the rest of the way on this already slippery slope, head over heels, in love with him. God, it's going to hurt when you hit the bottom. 

You shake your head, smiling through your tears. 

“Why couldn’t I have met you years ago?”

“Count your blessings, y/n.”

At the moment, you don’t feel blessed. You feel like the universe does in fact have it out for you.

“Goodbye, Frank.”

“Have a nice life, y/n.”

Fuck if he doesn't sound as miserable as you feel. 

It's him, who moves just a fraction, brushing your lips with his one last time. Those soft, kissable lips you'll never feel again. It's like your soul leaves your body, when he pulls away. You feel like a jar of poisonous butterflies is unleashed in your belly. And then, you have to sit down, because your knees won’t hold you, and he is gently shutting the door, and the taxi is pulling away, carrying you in the opposite direction from the most interesting man you’ve ever met. 

Determined to be brave one last time, you flip him off out the window as you drive away. Through a film of tears you look back, and see him looking after you wistfully, looking lost on the curb with his suitcase in hand. But he smiles to himself at your rude gesture, and you can just hear that grunt of reluctant mirth.

It adds a final twist to the knife that's lodged in your heart.

You cannot tell, if you are laughing, or crying, in the backseat of the taxi.

Tbc...

[keanuquotes]

31:31 minutes of keanu and winona adorable!

[thequantumranger]

Keanu Reeves in Destination Wedding (2018)

[boredth]

If you haven't ever seen Destination Wedding (Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder), I feel like it's a very silverv situation. At least, it's definitely got the potential to be.

Johnny doesn't shut up even in his sleep

[texaschainsawmascara]

Winona & Keanu

[haveyouseenthisromcom]

[spyderschaos]

The other day I finished watching every final destination movie with my friends, this is how I would rate them

Final destination 2

Final destination 1

Final destination 5

The final destination

Final destination 3

[fabioemme78]

[sbrown82]

Same, Keanu. Same!

Destination Wedding (2018) dir. Victor Levin

[scealaiscoite]

setting prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🕊️ ꒱

¹⁾ a rural gas station in the middle of the night

²⁾ the last room at a drive-in motel in the small hours of the morning

³⁾ a cold, draughty church on a thursday night

⁴⁾ a stranger’s bedroom at noon

⁵⁾ a window seat on a red-eye flight during a storm

⁶⁾ a hospital waiting room with only one other person in it

⁷⁾ a sleeper train eight hours from its destination

⁸⁾ the first night in a new house, alone

⁹⁾ the steps of a wedding chapel in the rain

¹⁰⁾ a dingy truck stop after ten hours on the road

¹¹⁾ a divorce attorney’s office on valentine’s day

¹²⁾ the beach at ten on a monday morning

¹³⁾ a police station in a foreign country

¹⁴⁾ a coffee shop at two in the morning

¹⁵⁾ a concert venue, hours after the band’s set has finished

¹⁶⁾ a boat miles from land in any direction

¹⁷⁾ the third highest floor in a skyscraper

¹⁸⁾ the end of the line at a b-list movie star’s meet-and-greet

¹⁹⁾ a bar an hour after last call

²⁰⁾ an overgrown garden in a heatwave

²¹⁾ a car park lit only by streetlamps

²²⁾ a film set two days from the end of production

²³⁾ a graveyard in spring

²⁴⁾ the lap of someone who’s been gone for too long

²⁵⁾ a kitchen counter whilst dinner’s being made

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Epilogue

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

Epilogue: That Most Presumptuous Of All Things

“You look so handsome,” you tell Frank, smoothing his suit jacket, straightening the little cluster of white flowers in his lapel. He smiles down at you, that warmth shining in his dark eyes that you know is just for you. Even after all these years, it still gives you butterflies. 

His boutonniere matches the baby’s breath braided into your hair. 

All these years later, the two of you are finding yourselves at yet another destination wedding in wine country. 

This time, you’re not half so annoyed about the presumptuous inconvenience. 

This time, the guest list numbers two: him, and you. 

No one was more surprised than you, a few months ago, when in the middle of dinner on a normal weeknight he set a river rock down in front of your plate of chicken carbonara that simply read, “Marry me?” 

You’d never meant anything more, when immediately you’d answered through your laughter, “Yes.” 

The two of you decided very quickly to forgo the meaningless trappings and pageantry of the conventional wedding. Who did it concern, anyway, but just the two of you? 

In half an hour, you will go to the courthouse where a Justice of the Peace will say a few words over your union, and you’ll sign a piece of paper together declaring you man and wife. This last big gesture will be undeniably sweet, but you can’t help but think it won’t really change anything between the two of you. The cement of your bond set long ago, mixed with dedication, sweat, and tears poured into this precious thing between you. 

It hasn’t been all roses. No real relationship ever is. 

Your fights are probably the stuff of legend in his condo building. Your first big go round, after the inevitable shouting match, you’d left his apartment in a huff, needing to regroup (so as not to commit murder). When you came back you found him sitting in the dark with his head in his hands. He’d thought you’d left for good, and you promised him that night that you would always come back for him. 

It’s a promise you’ve kept. 

A bit more embarrassing, your make up sex is probably legend too. Mrs. Fontaine next door always gives you a certain sly little look with a twinkle in her eye, the night after.

For such an expensive building, they’d sure skimped on the thickness of the walls.

He’s tried to break up with you, twice. Once, after seeing you holding a friend’s baby, (and maybe because you somehow managed not to drop it?) he convinced himself (without asking you) that you really did want kids and were wasting your youth on him. The second time, because he insulted you. Or rather, your art. His usually impish teasing just went a bit too far, and it had been a doozy, you had to admit. No one can deliver a cuttingly true remark like Frank, and he did make you cry,  though he apologized almost immediately. Ironically, in the end, the whole thing upset him more than you, the you deserve better song and dance surfacing again that you’ve fought tooth and nail.

You did not respect his wishes either instance, refusing to take no for an answer, going after him with both barrels and a vengeance. You sent flowers to his work, bribed his dry cleaner to put love notes in his jacket pockets, and left sappy balloons tied to his car. You even threatened to finally ambush him with the boombox (you didn’t even own one, truth be told) which finally led to a sit down at your favorite sushi joint, and your inevitable victory. As it turned out–it was exactly the assurance he’d needed all along. 

Both times your love just came out the other side of the fire even stronger. 

Your joy is legend too, even if only in your own mind. Frank makes you laugh every day. He makes you feel desired, and loved, and mostly saves his razor-edged observations for the rest of the world outside, which the two of you watch go by with spectators’ amusement and dismay. Talking shit remains your number one pastime together. At some point, the little things each of you does that inevitably annoys the other becomes more of a running joke. Your love language includes flipping each other off regularly and playfully trading barbs. It’s hard for others to believe, but his devotion to you is thoughtful and complete. You do your best every day to return it in kind. Some days you fall short, and sometimes he does too, but on the whole you make eachother happy, and somehow five years have flown by. 

 “You look beautiful.” His approval fills your heart like a sunrise. You’re wearing a simple white lace dress that hits just above your knee. If you have to run from a mountain lion, you’re not going to trip over your skirts. Your shoes? Might be another matter. 

“Thanks.”

“I like the heels,” he says with a smirk, as though his thoughts are aligned with yours. They often are as of late, you’ve found. Your shoes are actually the same wedge platforms you wore to a different wedding you attended together, what feels like a lifetime ago. 

“I thought you hated these shoes?” you tease. 

“Oh no. It will be impossible for you to run from me, when you finally come to your senses,” he says with a little smile, touching a strand of hair by your ear lightly.  You shudder as it sends a thrill across your skin, and if you’re being honest, straight to your loins. Whose ridiculous suggestion was it, anyway, to forego intimacy before the wedding? 

Ok, so it was yours–and Frank has been delighting in torturing you over the past month. You just might expire over the time it will take to get to the courthouse, go for a leisurely drive through the vineyards, and sit through a nice dinner at one of the wineries overlooking the fields at sunset. Sex is yet another thing between you that has somehow only gotten better with time, and to say you are looking forward to your wedding night would be an understatement.

“This was all your idea,” you remind him. “Are you…rethinking it? If you are–” 

He snorts and pulls you against him, lifting you on tiptoe with an arm around your waist and kissing you so deeply you know you’ll have to re-apply your lipstick. 

Ah well. 

“Woman…” He rests his forehead against yours, and you smile, ridiculously content in this moment with him.

“Why do you want to get married, Frank?” You realize, perhaps hilariously, you never actually asked him, so delighted that you just rolled with it. You already practically live together, at his place and yours. You’re both financially independent. You’re not planning on starting a family. Your commitment to each other was already set in stone.  

“I felt like we needed a challenge. We’ve been entirely too happy,” he says with that smirk that makes you roll your eyes. 

“Come on.”

“And if something happens to me, I don’t want my mother or Keith to be able to pull my plug.”

You poke him in the ribs for this. For some reason, he’s convinced himself this morbid scenario is inevitable. “I already have your medical POA.”

He squirms away with a grunt of amusement before grabbing you up again, his gaze softening for you once more. “Because, I love you, more than anything or anyone.” 

You believe him too. The thing about Frank, is that he does not make this shit up. He says what he’s thinking, at the moment he thinks it–and you think your heart really might explode. “Likewise,” you assure him with a smile, tilting your head to receive another gentle kiss that curls your painted toes. “Are you ready to go?”

He nods, and maybe you are feeling some pre-wedding jitters now. Because you still think this man is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on, and sometimes it is still a little hard to believe that he’s all yours. 

You grab your purse, he grabs the keys, and together you walk out the door towards the next big step of your life, together. 

The End, which is really just to say, another beginning…  

Thank you everyone who’s come on this wacky journey with me and supported this fic! @treedaddymcpuffpuff @scarlettspectra @sweetwolfcupcake @lilspookymeh @kurai-hono-blog @nightmare-bean  @discoscoob @thewhumpcaretaker and SO many others, (I didn’t want to make you feel weird by tagging you if we’ve never actually talked but I SEE YOU! 😘) your comments and likes and reblogs gave me life and helped me actually finish! FULL credit to @nightmare-bean for the rock proposal idea, I love it so much! 🤣

[yutarot]

SHES THE MAN [l.hc smau]

genres: humour, friends to lovers, college au, gamer!haechan, gamer!yn, everyone’s a gamer actually, loosely based off the movie ‘she’s the man’, fem reader, slowburn, angst, plot heavy

synopsis: after you discover your love for gaming, you soon find out that your college won’t let you in any of their e-sports teams due to your gender. but what happens when your twin brother leaves town just before he’s about to start at a new college, where not even NCU’s e-sports captain, lee haechan knows anything about him? there’s only one problem, your brother’s crazy ex is trying to hunt you down. will they all find out your true identity? and will their views on you change if they discover who you really are?

++ will be using the same taglist as my other works for ease, dm if you would like to be removed.

WARNINGS: language, mention of alcohol/being drunk, jokes about death, the plot will divert from the original movie, themes of sexism (at the start), cliffhangers again sorry guys, typos literally everywhere, a littleee bit of violence, small injury detail, heavy on the miscommunication trope… obviously…, lots of angst, things get MESSY, a small (?) plot twist

STATUS: COMPLETE! 08.06.24 - 09.03.24

DISCLAIMER: all portrayals of people are fake and from my imagination, in no way am i claiming that they act like this irl

MASTERLIST

[profiles one] || [profiles two] || [ig profiles]

[1 - positive affirmations]

[2 - let me cook]

[3 - dream vacation destination]

[4 - why’s he kinda…]

[5 - therapy scheduled]

[6 - winky face and all]

[7 - sorry i can’t read]

[8 - trick or treat]

[9 - “can i get your number?”] written chapter

[10 - bro shes your friends sister]

[11- double date]

[12 - canada?]

[13 - do you do weddings?]

[14 - sick and twisted.]

[15 - all of the above]

[16 - who are you?]

[17 - i don’t wanna see you again]

[18 - it’s all over]

[19 - he doesn’t miss you] written chapter

[20 - the truth]

[21 - we’ve missed you]

[22 - you’re delusional sweetie]

[23 - i guess we both had our secrets] written chapter

[24 - second male lead]

[25 - i had no idea]

[26 - is she okay]

[27 - you know her]

[28 - the nile?]

[FINAL; 29 - you already do] written chapter

END!

replies, likes and reblogs are all appreciated! feel free to send requests in my asks; scenes, chapters, characters etc.

TAGLIST - CLOSED.

[wolfiihoney]

Nanami is the type of husband who… ᧔࿔᧓

︶︶⊹ ୨ I love writing about nanami ୧ ⊹︶︶

Part 2 of my “the type of husband who” series.

Unedited, srry loves <3

Nanami is the type of husband who refuses to text you and will call you just because you texted a simple "hi."

Nanami is the type of husband who makes sure to learn how to perfect your favorite coffee or tea, so when you wake up in the morning it’s already there waiting for you.

Namami is the type of husband who can communicate his feelings VERY well and will help you with yours.

Namami is the type of husband who always yearned for marriage so when he got it, it became somewhat of a badge of honor. (Gojo also got him a “The Best Husband Ever” shirt for a wedding gift because he knew Kento wanted to be a husband and Nanami wears it as a bedtime shirt😭).

Nanami is the type of husband who doesn’t show public affection, but he will hold your hand with the occasional little back rub.

Nanami is the type of husband who wants babies and a lot of them. He always knew deep down that he wanted little ones running around but pushed the thought away because of his job (that’s until he met you).

Nanami is the type of husband who loves nicknames and rarely calls you by your real name. He prefers "darling" and "love".

Nanami is the type of husband who likes to wake up early but hates waking you up early because he knows how much you love to sleep, so he’ll just lay in bed watching you sleep, rubbing your hair. (He’s a super, loving man).

Nanami is the type of husband who works way too hard and needs a vacation every so often. he always lets you pick the destination though. (he took you to Malaysia for the honeymoon of course).

Nanami is the type of husband who LOVES to cuddle and will randomly grab a book and your hand to go out and cuddle in the big hammock in your backyard (just imagine that seriously).

Nanami is the type of husband who loves giving you what you want and struggles to say no. Do you want those nasty chips that have too much red food dye? Go grab a bag baby. Want to spend all night watching princess movies and eating candy? He’ll go fetch the blankets.

Nanami is the type of husband who adores the colder seasons and will randomly come home with 4 bags of fall decor (he’s so wholesome).

Nanami is the type of husband who is oblivious to how adorable he is. he does the cutest things throughout the whole day and when you bring it to his attention he’s just like “Oh”.

Nanami is the type of husband who you will hear in the next room bragging about how “smart and amazing ” you are, You'll randomly hear him say “My wife made the most lovely bread today” to one of his co workers.

Nanami is the type of husband who gets shy when his students ask to see a picture of you because they can’t believe he actually got married. (he shows them a thousand pictures of you lol).

Nanami is the type of husband who loves back scratches. He doesn’t like to expect anything from you but he will expect back scratches.

Nanami is the type of husband who holds your legs up so he can vacuum under where your legs are (he’s way too strong).

Nanami is the type of husband who starts a little book club with just the two of you and he looks forward to it every other week.

Nanami is the type of husband who will secretly feel betrayed when you take a nice bath without him because that’s something he likes to do with you.

Nanami is the type of husband who loves to take care of you but also loves when you take care of him. (He likes being babied and you are the only person who will ever know that information)

Reblogs are definitely appreciated ♡♡♡

[witnbeauty]

How can this be the way the species is set up? How can we be allowed to feel so much for people who don't feel anything for us? ~ Lindsay, Destination Wedding

[multific]

The Dreamer Empress

Emperor Geta x Reader

Warnings: mention of murder, blood, and spoilers of the movie. The reader's character is based on Helaena Targaryen from House of the Dragon. 

Summary: You always dreamt—dreams of death, happiness and the Empire. But your dreams always come true.

The Dreamer Empress.

That is what the people of Rome called you.

What not one of them knew is how your dreams always come true.

Even as a child, you had dreams, and soon your suspicions were confirmed.

You dreamed of a man with firey hair whom you would marry. Who would love you so much, it was unimaginable. 

But whenever you see him in your dreams, he always has fire and death surrounding him.

You knew that had to be a sign.

A sign of his true nature.

But his eyes were so soft as he looked at you.

He couldn't be that bad right?

Perhaps you shouldn't have assumed so much. 

Perhaps you should have believed your dreams.

Emperor Geta was sadistic, angry and impatient.

But his eyes as he looked at you, seemed to change.

You saw it in them.

But you got scared, turned around and left.

After all, how would you explain to him that you have been having dreams about him? About a life you two can have.

The Emperor.

Of all men.

Of course, it had to be the Emperor.

You thought about running far. Never meet him again, but you still went to the Colosseum.

You still sat so you could see him. 

You watched as he decided on the fate of the men.

How can you already love him?

You only met him in your dreams.

Never even spoke a single word with him.

And yet you knew, you loved him.

Then, he suddenly looked at you. Of all the people there, his eyes locked with yours. 

And you immediately knew, there was no point in running. 

You were destined for him.

You met him the same day.

He was drinking some wine while his brother was laughing.

Geta was drawn to you the moment you entered. You tried your best to avoid him, but you knew it was pointless.

He found you and you gave yourself to him fully.

"Marry me." he whispered into the night before he kissed you.

---

You woke up in his arms, like many mornings before. 

You stirred and so did he. 

"My Love?" his voice was always so deep in the mornings.

"I had a dream." you whispered and he moved his head into your neck, you hugged him. "I dreamt... your brother was holding your head, but, your body wasn't there and Macrinus was behind your brother with a bloody knife in his hand."

"My Empress and her dreams. My Beautiful Wife and her gift from the Gods."

Geta learned about your dreams almost right after you two wed. You mentioned to him a Gladiator he would like. The next day, a new Gladiator showed up, earning the amusement of both Emperors.

Later, you mentioned to him a plan. The Senator's plan to overthrow him and his brother. You told him that in your dreams the Senator gathered with his people behind a lion.

Geta's soldiers found the Senator and his group of men hiding in a room with a lion statue blocking the door.

Geta believed in your dreams. He had no reason not to. They were all true.

He was the first to call your dreams a gift from the Gods.

"I will make sure Macrinus' plan falls." he said before kissing your lips. "My wife cannot lose me."

"I truly cannot." you looked into his eyes and he smiled, knowing just how serious you were.

He made sure Macrinus failed. 

Geta promised you a long and fulfilling life. And he would make sure to give you just that. 

Weeks passed, then a whole year.

Rome was growing and the people were happy.

They all loved the Empress, as much as the Emperor did.

"You haven't been having dreams recently." Geta noted one evening when you got ready for bed.

"I do have them, Geta. They are happy ones."

"You said those are rare."

"They are. But they do happen."

"Will you tell me what it was?"

"I had a dream of you with a boy."

"A boy?" he asked confused.

"Your son, I believe he was. He called me Mother as he ran to me when you told him to and he looked much like you."

"You dreamt of us having a son and didn't tell me?" he sounded rather hurt.

"I am sure I'm not pregnant."

"I know but... sometimes I wish I could see your dreams. The happy ones sound truly spectacular."

You smiled at him as you lay down in your bed.

"I am so used to seeing bad things, I rather not get carried away when I see something happy. I didn't mention this one to you because I was afraid it wouldn't come true."

"Of course it will. All of your dreams come true. This won't be any different. We will have that beautiful boy you saw. And we will be happy. I promise you, My Love."

"I like your promises. They are much like my dreams. You always make sure they become real." he kissed you on the lips after he joined you in bed. Moving to lay you on your back and he moved on top of you.

"That is because I simply love you."

"And I love you too." you said with a tear in your eye and pulled him in for another kiss.

Just how glad you were for not running away.

You were glad you stayed and decided to face your destiny. 

You were glad to have such a man by your side.

The crazy and violent Emperor of the people, who was also your loving and caring husband.

Gladiator II Collection

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