#free wedding matrimony

[lawanphere]

Trusted & Secure Sikh Matrimony Website | LawanPhere

Are you prepared to locate your ideal match? 🎉 All Hindu Sikhs in the UK are invited! 🌬🌧 Here's where your quest for love ends! Introducing Lawanphere, your one-stop shop for deep relationships with the UK's thriving Hindu Sikh community. 💖

👫 Our uk matrimony site is specifically made for you whether you're looking for friendship, companionship, or a lifetime partner. It's never been simpler to find someone who shares your beliefs, customs, and way of life thanks to the wide variety of profiles available. 🕊⸏

[valleydoli]

ʚɞ Gojo Satoru Fic Recommendations ʚɞ

J’adore (O)

Scars don’t fade (C)

August (C)

Sincerely Not (C)

Sincerely Yours (O)

Everyone’s Doll (C)

Missed Connection (C)

Confessions (O)

Confidential (O)

Violet Lights (C)

Starboy (C)

The Twist of a Knife (O)

A Dangerous Game (C)

Fate’s Gamble (O)

All I Need (C)

Baby Steps (C)

Finite (C)

Sensual Epiphany (C)

Two Lines (C)

Changes (O)

Infidelity (C)

The Fuck List (C)

In Other Words, I Love You (Dead Dove: Do Not Eat) (C)

Permanent Mark (C)

Sundered (C)

Infidelity (C)

Kick Off (O)

The Unfaithful (C)

I Still Want You (O)

Concern and Control (C)

Symptoms and Causes (O)

One Moment Was All It Took (Dead Dove: Do Not Eat) (O)

Fuck The List (O)

My Love Note (O)

As You Like It (C)

People Would Assume (C) (Dead Dove: Do Not Eat)

Break Free (O)

Limerence (O)

In Memory of You (TBD)

Motherhood and Matrimony (O)

A Fairytale Wedding (O)

Untameable Waves (please come back)

[retiredteabag]

Wishful thinking

Arranged marriage with Nanami… next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Nanami Kento was not in a sorcerer clan. In fact, he was the only sorcerer in his family. You had met him only once before you had been informed of the engagement, and in that brief interaction you had decided you knew exactly what type of man he was.

"It's a pain." had been his harsh words. Vitriol clear as day in his tone.

When asked what he felt about being a sorcerer his response had been that it was…a pain? Being the reserved individual he was, he didn't take the time to elaborate despite the questions of the sorcerers surrounding him.

You had rolled your eyes in that moment. Clearly, he had no sense of responsibility. No duty. I suppose that's what it means to not be in a clan. You had thought. He’s got no idea how good he has it.

And even though you chalked his image up in your mind as an irresponsible and pretentious git. The memory of his brutal gaze stuck in your mind. You knew deep down that it was simply jealousy.

Sorcery was a pain, there had been many instances where you wished you could put it aside and leave this world, but that was simply not what you were born for.

All those months ago, you had left the meeting with the Jujutsu higher-ups resentful. How lucky that man in the suit was, to not have an obligation to fulfill exactly what the clan heads asked of him. How free he must feel.

But, oh, how wrong you had been.

--

You had known your marriage was impending, having had meetings with your father and his subordinates on several occasions to discuss the offers from other clans.

Offers for your hand.

Offers for the rest of your miserable life, for your body, for your fertility, offers to impregnate you, and nothing much else.

You had been picky, of course, having known all your life this was forthcoming you were expecting to not have to rely on Zenin blood to uphold the family name.

Your father was no kind man but if there was one thing he was, it was prideful. If even his measly daughter could brush aside an important clan born man, he too could wait for a finer offer to come.

Back then, you had no idea that would lead to this.

You stood before a full-length mirror. Your dress came below your ankle, the neckline nothing short of chic modesty.

By all accounts and by the people serving you, you were expected to be prepared.

Your wedding was nothing special, a formality, nothing more. Clans from across Japan were here to see the ceremony. Still, your heart pounded as you gulped at your reflection. A shakily deep breath brought you little comfort as you squeezed your hand into a fist.

You knew little of the man you were to marry.

Here was what you had:

He was NOT a Zenin. Hallelujah.

He was not from any clan. (This had come as a shock to you, your father having only explored offers from fellow clan heads, you had no idea how this arrangement was to be made until Gakuganji, the principal of your school, Kyoto Jujutsu High, and one of the more powerfully cruel higher-ups, had arrived at your families estate, enlisting a "fine candidate" for your immanent marriage. He had seemed certain. Immovable.)

And last of the information you had, he was seemingly strong enough for your father to deem his ability to produce "quality children" acceptable. He was a grade 1 sorcerer, nothing to scoff at.

You knew your father would not have accepted the offer of a man without heritage if the higher-up’s had not endorsed it. Even now you wondered why they were so keen on this matrimony.

And that was all you had.

"You look beautiful." A maid from the estate was arranging your hair, she moved quickly, with a soft hand. You hardly noticed her. "I've heard he is a very gentle man," She starts up again after your eyes narrowed in the reflection of the mirror, "if that's any consolation." The women ends in a whisper.

You huff out a breath, "Thank you."

That's what they all say.

You wonder if she was lying to you. This morning you had heard your mother crying in your bedroom after you had made up your sheets for the last time. It made you sad, knowing she was afraid for you.

Afraid you would turn out like her.

You swallow with some effort and look up to the maid at your side, she smiled at you.

"It looks lovely." You say, assuming she wanted praise.

She lays a hand on your shoulder and her smile crinkles in a funny way, "He is very handsome." Her eyebrows tilt in a telling fashion, she almost giggles.

Great.

What were you to say to that?

"I... see." You look at the floor and turn away from your reflection. All that was left was for your father to arrive. To take your hand in an uncomfortably tight grip and lead you down the aisle to the man that was decided to be the father of your children.

"Is there anything you would like, before I leave you? It won't be long now..." The maid tries to meet your gaze so you look up to her face once more.

"No, there's nothing, thank you for helping me." You try to smile at her but your throat hurts from the brief amount of talking you have already done.

The women nods her head, she turns to go but hesitates at the door, for a moment you think she is going to turn and speak to you, to say something as a comfort perhaps, but just as her body holts to grip the door, the hinges swing away and your father steps in.

"Move out of my way. Move! Out!” Your father shoves at the women who had been by the threshold and she escapes out the door with a hushed apology and not a glance at yourself.

You stand before him. Resolved to not shutter in these moments. Neither of you speak until he swings his arms and says,

"Well, are you coming?"

You almost want to laugh. How you wish you could look up at the domineering man and say, no I don't think I am, but you knew better, and although he extends no arm to you, you take the few steps to his presence and heave a sign.

"Stand up straight. Serve us well."

You knew those would be all the words you heard from him tonight, as unhappy as you were to be married to a strange man, you felt pleased to know you would no longer be living in your clans estate, just as you knew your father would be glad to be rid of you.

Your fathers movements seemed all too fast. His steps, his reaching for your arm, his pulling you out the door and into the hall.

You felt as if time was slowing but those around you weren't effected. Your father huffed angrily, tugging you along. This was happening too fast. You didn't want this. You weren't ready.

You wiped the sweat from your palms over the satin dress hanging on your waist. The collar that once seemed elegant was starting to choke you. The door to the ceremony was drawing closer, you could hear music but it was almost as if the closer you came, the foggier it sounded.

Echos of your mother’s cries this morning permeated your brain. You knew you were asking for too much. But in those last moments before your autonomy would be taken from you, you had only one wish.

That the maid was right. That the man at the alter would truly be a gentle creature...would be tender....would be mild?

The doors were swinging open. The light was bright, but you did not dare to raise a hand to block its assault. You walked slowly, arm tightly locked in your fathers grasp. You noticed the clan leaders in the audience, but as your eyes tried to take in the man at the front of the room, you stuttered in your steps.

Hoping your father would take no notice, you tried to recall how you knew the man who was meeting your eye.

You began to put together who this man was, having met him before, though you hadn't been introduced. That one interaction had showed you he would not have been a man you would want to live the rest of your days with. He had seemed unhappy in those moment.

Fear shot through you.

An unhappy husband was more dangerous than any curse you had faced.

Having stared long enough, you drop your gaze from his own piercing one. You almost want to smile, but you're unable to.

Maybe he isn't as free as you thought he was. Poor him.

You wonder how he even managed to get in this predicament as the music began to come to its end. You're stepping up onto the platform that your future husband stood upon, your ankle wobbles in the heels that were chosen for you.

In a flash you see his arm reach out for you but you’re only confused, shrinking back a bit father from him.

You look to meet his gaze once more. He's barely a few breaths from you. His eyes seem focused on your face.

The officiant is talking but you cannot hear him.

You realize one of two things in this particular moment, one, the maid was right about something, this man was remarkably handsome. And second, you realize you're feeling quite faint.

The dress had not been so hot before you were standing before this man in front of all these people under the shine of all these lights. You swallow, dig your nails into your palms, the officiant seems to be speaking to the man before you and it isn't long before your husband speaks out a low, "I do."

You feel as though you must pay attention, your bit is coming up now and you would hate to embarrass your family, but you can hardly hear the man over the pounding in your ears. A prick of sweat starts to form on the back of your neck.

There is a pause in the mans speech, he looks at you intently, after a moment he raises a brow.

Oh, right. "I do." You say.

You look anywhere but your husband. Knowing you weren't expected to kiss, you try to take in some more air. This was it.

The officiant hands something to the man before you.

He's so tall. The suit he is wearing seems to fit him perfectly, and you can’t help wondering who helped him here today if he had no clan members.

His arm is suddenly in front of you, palm up. It takes you but a moment to know what he is asking for. You brace yourself and set your hand within his own.

He places his other hand onto yours for a moment, engulfing your hand in his grasp. You are shaking, you know you are, but with everything going on in this very moment, you are hoping he won't notice.

A ring is being slipped onto your finger. Good, now your turn.

He hands you his own, a plain ring of gold.

Don't drop it. Do not drop it. Don't-

You miss his ring finger once before finally sliding it on. You hope no one noticed. You pull your hand free of his first and look to your father in the crowd.

This was it, right?

There was an echo of the efficient, "I now pronounce you husband and wife", and the group before you claps in respect.

The man who you had just married is bending down to your ear, but he doesn't say anything. You look him from your peripheral vision, and he is tilting his head down the aisle a bit.

Ah, yes. Your hand is in his own as you go back down where you just came. Your life is forever changed now.

So much lay before you, so much for you to worry about, but the one thing on your mind in this moment is how the grip of your husbands hand is infinitely more pleasant than the aggressive clasp your father had on you.

You hope against hope, that maybe, you would never feel the harsh grip of a man again.

But that was too wishful, was it not?

[truelymarry]

TruelyMarry is the most trusted matrimony website where you can browse lakhs of verified profiles and chance to get your perfect one. we help you on your whole matchmaking part and guide you how to make your marriage profile attractive.

So, if any one is looking for a profile through matrimonial sites, our matrimonial bureau is best for them where lakhs of success stories happened and more on counting. Enroll yourself on our matchmaking site and make your happy 

[marrynation]

When it comes to your matrimonial state and taste you may have many dreams that you want fulfilled by a perfect marriage. There is nothing like perfectness when you set upon finding a match who will fit your preferences 100% but you can get close to that figure if you join a trusted matrimonial website

. When we say trusted matrimonial website we can determine is status by checking its portfolio and how successful the website has been so far with its matchmaking. Trust is an important virtue which you seek when you to join a matrimonial website as it concern your future life and its outcome.

Some matrimonial sites register false or fake information that are made up for satisfying members. It is a matter of your life and your future and you should not partner with rogue websites that fee you with lies.

There is no such thing as a measuring scale to judge a matchmaking website and you could only trust the site when you come to know through authentic sources that they are indeed a good matrimony site which has produced highly positive results for its members.

Finding a match through matrimonial site is all about gathering information about future bride or groom. If the data provided is authentic you can deem the website resourceful and trustworthy.

Finding a match is all about matching characteristics and habits with the opposite member and if you are able to match more than 80-90% you can consider the proposal fruitful and successful.

The matrimonial sites are the best avenues to find your matched soulmateas you will find huge volume of matrimony data which you can process at will and unearth what you are looking for.

With a website for matrimony you have less chances of failure because you are provided with huge amount of partner information and time, which is plenty.

Some of you may not have people such as parents, friends or relatives to arrange your marriage by finding a matched partner but a website like https://marrynation.comwill act as  your parents, guardian, or caretaker and find that elusive partner you have been looking for in the past.

[pedge-page]

Daddies, Daddies, Daddies

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: you're marrying your fiance, but your mind is already on banging his father

Warnings: infidelity, unprotected sex, step dad, father in law, Daddy kink and I'm choosing not to specify more tags as they are spoilers. Read at your own discretion

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Even as you say your vows to your soon to be husband, his and your smiles beaming of future endeavors, you can't help but glance towards his impeccably handsome dad, and you're soon to be father in law. You had a thing for broad chested, soft tummied, grey speckled dilfs, and this hunk was no exception.

Yes, you love your man to be, but getting to know his family...intimately was part of the whole marriage package too. Can you blame a woman? And the way his bulge practically waved at you through those tight slacks so prettily, begging you to take a seat on your new papa in laws lap had you swaying with excitement. Heat filled your core as you grinned and held hands with your fiance. He's rambling about his promises and devotion, but your brain is too focused on what his dad's plump lips will feel lie devouring your little cunt while everyone else will be too busy getting food at the reception.

He had been eying you the entire engagement. From the moment you were introduced, his gaze traveled to your cleavage and ass before settling on your lips and shaking his hand.

It beyond amazes you he hasn't taken the next step, so far going no further than his hand grazing your lower back and prolonged hugs where youe tits pressed against his chest. He teased you for months without saying anything, but maybe he's even sluttier than you are: waiting for you to be taken before he can make a new claim. You sucking on your tongue at the image of getting railed in his powder room during Sunday lunches at your in laws house, or giving him a "tour" of your bedroom with his thick member pulsing in your mouth when they come over for Thanksgiving.

You couldn't wait to add that old man's cock to your pussy list.

"I do!" You say right on cue, and the two of you seal your kiss of matrimony with a racous applause.

After the ride to the reception hall, a bunch of hugs and warm welcomes, you're so close to getting your hands on your new daddy, so close to introducing him to his new sweet little cunt he's gonna make a happy future in, when your step dad yanks you right out of the hall and into the restroom.

"Daddy!" You shout, surprised by his grip.

"What? Thought you were gonna give everyone else some attention but your old man?" Joel tuts, tracing his rough lips across the smooth expanse od your exposed shoulders. "Or did you think you were gonna give some of my pussy away to your new daddy?"

"You're not my old man," you clarify, but you don't stop his familiar touch over your body.

He chuckles. His hands settle along your waist protectively. "You're my little girl as far as everyone else is concerned today. I'm the only daddy who showed up to give ya away didn't i? S'okay. Just like you, I didn't mean shit up there either."

You sigh, melting a bit as he presses a wet kiss to your pulse point.

"Thought you were gonna be done with me even after you got married? Gonna get a new daddy cock to ride every morning to work? Eric, that's his dad's name right? Saw ya eyin him all durinf the ceremony. Little slut, cant even say i do to a man ya marrying before drooling about his daddys dick? Yeah. Honey, he couldn't handle you like I do. Neither of em."

He smirks in the mirror as he licks your cheek with a fat strip, side eying the way your eyes get hazy in the mirror. His hands slope down your chest to cup your breasts in that gorgeous wedding dress he helped you decide on. The one that gives just the right amount of appropriate yet subtle sexiness. He squeezes the plumpness of your tits before pulling the corset line down, your titties falling free for his large palms to knead while you gasp.

"Stop thinking about getting another daddy cock in this pussy. You got one right here--" he pushes his bulge further into your ass, forcing you to grip the sink and hold yourseld from falling forward-- "right here, baby doll, to give ya everything you need. Never had a complaint not wantin my cock, did ya?"

You smirk drunkly, shaking your head. "No daddy. I love this cock."

Joel kisses the shell of your ear before unbuckling his belt and hoisting the skirt of your dress up.

You gasp when he slides his hardened length along your already soaked folds.

"How about we start working on that baby you were always wanting, huh? You been beggin me for it, told ya gotta wait till you're married. Even your In law daddy Eric mentioned he couldn't wait for ya to get round with grand babies. How bout that? He n i got somethin in common already."

He slides in, forcing your walls to part to accommodate his intrusion.

Joel sets a low pace, gripping your hip tightly as he ruts into your ass with fat slaps, his cock getting sucked right in with each thrust "Except this pussy. He ain't touching this sweet little precious cunt. Shit doll, youre soaking wet just thinking bout old man cock today, huh? Yeah, don't you worry baby. Your step daddy gonna get that baby in ya sooner than you know it. Gonna provide everything ya need. Won't need to go to your new family's side for nothin. We can keep everything exactly how it is."

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda

[zhongrin]

bound matriarch

© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli

✼ tags ┈ yandere, fem!pronouns ('wife', 'matriarch', 'goddess' used), zhongli as morax/rex lapis, set right after archon war

✼ a/n ┈ i have to be out all day today so i'm not sure if i'll be at home when this goes out but let me just say FINALLY I CAN RELEASE THIS. THIS HAS BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG (i'd also like to silently thank jessamine bc their comments on my posts were the main catalyst for me to finish this little blurb sobsob)

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

oh, what a dream it is to be the spouse of the strongest archon in teyvat, whom he wed right after archon war ended. some might see the celebratory wedding as something uncouth; an utter disrespect to the lives lost at war and the bereaved families, but the lord of geo disagrees. what could be a better reassurance to ensure the people of liyue would start believing in and striving for a brighter future, than the joyous union of the new geo archon who defended them throughout the arduously long war and the prosperity goddess who has the power to bless the land and its people?

you're draped in gold and red as you sign the oath in blood; sealing your matrimony amidst the cheers of the mortals and immortals alike. the ruby reds on your lips are plush and soft against their god's own, the gossamer thread of embroidered gold of your clothing matching your now-husband's attire. even the bright blue sky seemed to celebrate such a joyous occasion, casting its warm rays upon the now-peaceful land of liyue to offer you its blessing.

they do not know that one certain party was most ardently unwilling to take the vow under one of the most sacred contracts of all.

they need not know that the marriage was a desperate attempt to shackle you to him and erase your individual worth as a goddess; to ensure you are remembered as rex lapis' beloved wife, the matriarch of liyue. they need not know, for just as no one questioned why the god of freedom was not invited into the banquet, no one questioned why a sheer veil covered the lower part of your unsmiling face, or the fact that countless shackles cor petrae accessories heavily rested against your neck and limbs.

what they do know is that this is your prison home ー he is your captor home and you will never belong anywhere else.

and perhaps given a few eons, you shall learn it too. worry not, your husband is a patient god. but you best remember that a god's patience, too, has its limits.

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Ghost Bride themed request: Instead of Idia being at risk of being whisked away to Unholy matrimony, it is instead the reader, A.KA the boys of your choices crush, being whisked away to a ghostly honeymoon. Would at least like to see Kalim for this but any boy that you think would mount a daring and romantic rescue. Please and thank you

COMMENTS: Well, I decided to write for 4 characters. One of them being Kalim. For the others I didn't want to choose one from the Overblot Boys because I'm thinking of doing a similar post with them in the future. And when I saw the list of students I thought that the most fun to write would be some of the most impulsive and those most likely to be unable/unwilling to lie. So I chose Deuce, Jack and Floyd.

I will admit it was fun to write. 🙂

I hope you all enjoy 💐

CHARACTERS: Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech & Kalim Al-Asim

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Love Confessions

WARNING: Spoilers from The Phantom Bride event

WORD COUNT: An average of 450 words per character.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And they just found out that someone was you.

A mix of panic and fury is what Deuce felt when he found out what had happened or could happen to you.

There was a Housewardens meeting about what happened, so Deuce wasn't present. And so he went to his Housewarden to ask Riddle that whatever the plan was, please get him involved.

They end up forming a small group to rescue you. Deuce being part of it. On the way to you the others end up staying behind to stop the ghost guards from getting in the way of Deuce. And he ends up being the only one to appear in the ceremony room.

Deuce screams at everyone to stop the wedding. But with his feelings on the surface, instead of trying to reason and persuade the ghosts, he threatens them. It was as if he was willing to fight the world and beyond for you.

Unfortunately, the guards are in the majority and manage to trap him and cause him to drop his magic pen.

He's furious, but he can't break free. The wedding goes on and the only thing that occurs to him, in the midst of despair, is to tell the truth.

“(Y/N)! You don't want to marry her do you?” You answer him that of course not, but the princess says anything about you don't know what you're saying. “You're the one who doesn't know what you're saying! What if they already love someone else? What if someone else already loves them?” The princess asks what he's talking about and his answer is for you and not for the princess. “I LOVE YOU, (Y/N)!” and then he talks to the princess again, with tears in his eyes “Please, don't take them away...”

The princess petrifies. She might be delusional, but even she can't ignore a declaration like that. She even mentions that she feels a little jealous of you. That one of the things she dreams about the most is that someone loves her so much that they make a declaration like that to her too.

And that's what drives the ghost guard who loves her to declare himself to her. And all that ending with her finding out she loved him happens.

After everything and they freed you, Deuce couldn't care less about the princess and the ghosts. He hugs you desperately, as if he's afraid they'll take you again.

He is embarrassed by the loving declaration he made to you. But he can't go back now.

Jack is more worried and scared than angry. He's more concerned with you being hurt and your well-being than with getting revenge on the ghosts. But he won't back down from a fight.

There was a Housewardens meeting about what happened, so Jack wasn't present. And so he went to his Housewarden to ask Leona that whatever the plan was, please get him involved.

Leona'd probably tell Jack that he could even do all the work if he wanted to. And he decides to do just that. He is a man... young man of action.

He will turn into a wolf and burst into the building. He won't stop until he gets to you and he'll get rid of anyone who gets in his way. And he will break down the doors still in his wolf form.

Everyone's like "A WOLF?!" And you're like "Jack?"

In his wolf form and with magic he can defeat any ghost that tries to stop him. And that's why that ghost guard turns into a giant to finally stop Jack.

Without being able to move anymore, the only thing left for him to do is try to talk to the princess and the guards. And for that he transforms himself back into a beastman. Surprising all ghosts. And piquing the curiosity of Princess Eliza. She asks him why he was there.

“To stop this wedding!” She asks, overjoyed and flattered if he's there for her. But he can't take that opportunity to lie, because he doesn't like to lie. “No! It's not for you that I'm here. It's for the person you kidnapped.” she starts to say that she didn't kidnap anyone. “Of course you did! Do you think (Y/N) wants to be here?!” An argument between the two of you and the ghosts starts, but that doesn't matter at the end. “JUST LET THEM GO!” he barks completely out of patience “They deserve better than you!” Everybody gasps at his boldness.

The ghost that held him starts defending the princess. Ending up revealing his feelings for her. And all that ending with her finding out she loved him happens.

The ghosts set you and Jack free. He runs to you to hug you, relieved that you're okay and that it's all over. You ask him about what he said. About you deserving better. And he decides to just tell you the truth.

He reveals that the whole thing about stopping the marriage was because he liked you. That a person like you deserves the best that anyone can offer. And he promises you that he will do his best to be the person you deserve.

Floyd hears that someone was kidnapped by that princess to marry her and such, but he couldn't care less. At least not until he hears your name.

At that moment he stops. Approach the students who were talking about that and ask what you have to do with that story.

The students, frightened, tell him what happened. But they quickly regret being the bearers of bad news because Floyd's expression quickly goes from just a curious face to that serious and terrifying expression of his. And he ends the conversation by calmly asking where you were.

And the ghosts worst nightmare enters the building. He was just annoyed at first that you'd been kidnapped. But then he starts having fun fighting the ghosts. To the point of becoming practically sadistic. Which terrified the ghosts even more.

The last time Princess Elisa was in such danger was when she was killed. So all the ghosts prepare in the ceremonial hall to protect her. You see them all panicking without knowing why. Not even the princess knows why.

He enters the room breaking down the door with a kick and a creepy smile on his face. “Peekaboo~” And the guards attack him. Now you see why they were so scared. Floyd was having fun at first, but then complained that facing the same kind of ghost was getting boring.

Then one of the ghost guards became a giant to face him. And Floyd smiled again. Unfortunately for him, the ghost managed to get him to drop the magic pen and trap him. The Princess asks what a monster like him was doing there.

“I study here, smartass.” everyone gasped offended. She says he can go back to study there after the wedding. “Yeah, but nah. That won't do.” she asks why not “Because I won't let you marry my Koebi-chan.” She gets confused by that nickname, but when she realizes he was talking about you, she starts defending herself. “Whatevs. HEY KOEBI-CHAN! Do you want to marry this spoiled brat?” You try to contain your laughter and answer no. “See? Now stop this crap before my patience runs out for good.” The giant ghost who is grabbing him orders him to stop talking to the princess like that. “Why? She's gettin' on my nerves. Don't tell me you have a crush on her, HA HA HA”

The ghost starts by trying to deny it, until he finally decides to confess to her once and for all. And all that ending with her finding out she loved him happens.

After the ghosts free the two of you, they beg you to take Floyd with you. You ask him why he did that. “You didn't hear me? I said I wasn't going to let her marry you.” you ask him why “Because I don't want you to marry someone you don't want to. Well, the truth is, I don't want you to marry anyone but me, but I let you choose.”

PANIC!!! OH GREAT SEVEN WHAT DOES HE DO?!

If Jamil is in the room, he himself is trying not to panic while trying to calm Kalim's panic. If only the Housewardens were in the room, one of the others will have to calm him down.

Kalim will do anything to save you, pay whatever it takes! Just someone tell him what to do.

Unfortunately, without an answer on what to do, he returns to Scarabia in a very worried state. Unknown to Jamil, Kalim has gone to the treasure room to be alone. But carpet went to keep him company.

He begins by thanking carpet for the company, while it tries to tell him that it can help save you. But as slow as Kalim can be, he only realizes later and even thinks the idea was his own.

He dashes out of Scarabia with carpet towards the hall where the wedding is taking place. And to get there, he ends up breaking a window since it's faster than going through the door.

He grabs you still on top of the flying carpet, to try to simply get you out of there, but the ghost guards manage to hit the carpet and make you fall. You fell with Kalim embracing you so you wouldn't be hurt.

And it's when the guards force the two of you apart that he starts to speak. He screams at them to stop the marriage because it's wrong. That one person cannot be forced to marry another.

But Princess Eliza says she needs to marry someone “princely”. Somehow, for some reason, she seas that in you.

“But why? Is that a rule? Because it shouldn't be! You should marry the one you love and not someone others think you should marry. Whether that person is a princess or a thief. Be someone you've known for years...” he points to the ghost guards “...or...” he looks at you “someone who just showed up in your life out of the blue and without warning. And who in just a few weeks became the most important person in your life.” he smiles at you, as if he forgets everything else around.

Princess Eliza stopped listening after that about the guards. And all that ending with her finding out she loved one of her guards happens.

In the end, Kalim gets emotional with the princess's marriage to the guard. Forgiving and forgetting the whole thing about your kidnapping. Chances are he's the type of person to cry at a wedding.

And he takes that opportunity to declare himself to you. Because that opened his eyes and he can't keep hiding his feelings anymore.

He couldn't stand the idea of you marrying someone else, because he started dreaming of marrying you.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[burningvelvet]

being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide

walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration

be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father. 

speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them. 

be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)

consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.

reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians. 

if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife. 

speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.

if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.

After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.

If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.

If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can. 

DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.

[gureumz]

grateful sinners

rating: explicit

member: jake

premise: growing up in a religious community (a cult?), you and your friend jake stumble upon "forbidden" media one day. of course, you know about sex but what the elders taught you was never this dirty. overcome with curiosity, you promise each other to never speak of what you're about to do to anyone.

notes: religious themes, implied cult behavior, slight (?) blasphemy, virgin!jake x virgin!reader, fem!reader, friends to lovers (?), first time, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, desperate touch-starved, jesus loving virgins tryna fuck

a/n: third of my 1k follower special! can you tell i have deep religious trauma? lmaoooo but this was rlly fun to write, if not a little tedious but i enjoyed it nonetheless! hope you do, too <3

the day was as beautiful as any other.

the early morning sun peeking behind the nearby hill, the smell of wet grass, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair.

you breathe in more of the valley air, letting your eyes close for a moment. everything is so still, hours and hours before the first worship of the day when the whole commune will surely come fully alive. at this moment, you're sure you're closer to God than ever.

a whispered prayer breaks the silence.

"i do not deserve such beauty before me, God," you mumble, eyes still closed. "but you are most merciful and i, a grateful sinner."

a silence, still. nothing or no one responds to your profession of gratitude, but that is to be expected. God works silently, as the elders say.

"i'm deciding if the beauty is on the horizon in front of us or in your face, ________," a voice breaks through, shattering the tranquil veil that envelops you.

you turn and you can't help the jolt in your chest. you grin widely and jake smiles back, hands in his pockets and his pants already soaked with morning dew from the grass.

"don't say that," you warn. "my mom might hear."

jake makes a show of looking around, gazing past you at the squat houses sitting peacefully without movement.

"i don't see her," jake says with a shrug. you laugh.

"you know how she hates it when people make light of God's word. your jokes are definitely her least favorite," you remind him, stepping closer.

jake eyes you. being noticeably taller and broader, it gives him the perfect view of your face as the dawn sun hits your delicate features.

his hair is messy, partly sticking to his forehead with the other half of his raven locks hanging over his eyes. you know his father would berate him for that. children of the pastor are expected to appear presentable in front of the whole commune as a way to honor God and his divine image.

but the commune is nowhere to be seen. it's just you looking.

and jake is used to you looking.

growing up together, with his mom and yours being close friends, your mother's unwavering devotion to the commune, and her undying support to jake's father's cause as pastor, it's no surprise that the two of you have been inseparable.

despite the clear division between the men and women of the commune, you and jake always found your way to each other. sneaking in glances, waving from afar before you start mass, and even despite your own mother's prudish ways, you know she felt at ease when jake was around you.

nothing has been said, but you're sure that when both of you reach the age of matrimony, you'd be wed to each other. you have to be.

"what are you doing out here so early?" you continue with a question, resisting the urge to toy with the wisps of hair on jake's temples.

you're forbidden to touch or be touched by any man that isn't your family. the only exception to this is his father, the pastor, free to lay his healing hands upon anyone he deems in need of it.

jake parts his lips to answer but pauses, as if choosing the appropriate thing to say.

"some of my friends and i wanted to hang out by the river," jake supplies, gesturing toward the general direction of the river just beyond the hill.

"doing what?" you ask. the men are usually tasked with heavy farm work in the morning. in your mind, a leisurely stroll by the river before all that labor seemed hardly reasonable.

jake hesitates again, now toying with his bottom lip, the plump, rosy skin growing even redder with every pinch jake delivers to it.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say, flashing jake a reassuring smile.

"i'm not lying," jake replies almost instantly, a nervous spark in his eyes. "we really were by the river. we were...looking at something."

you cock your head to the side. jake comes even closer and the hairs on your arm stand on end, the faint scent of jake's sweat and soap reaching your nose. if you reach out now, you could easily wrap both arms around him, pull him close, and never let go.

"jay's dad brings our harvest to the nearby city market, right? well, jay went with him yesterday and he nicked this...book or something from the gas station," jake rambles, fidgeting with his fingers.

your eyes widen.

"it was glossy and the pages smelled nice. we don't have those kinds of books here, don't we?" jake continues, but your ears have started ringing in alarm.

"jay stole? jake, you know he needs to confess and repent," you whisper, taken aback.

jake gives you a look and you nearly tremble at the intensity in his irises. without warning, jake lets his fingertips graze your arm, instantly pulling away right after. you flinch, cradling your arm against your chest as if you've been burned.

"it's wrong, i know, but...haven't you thought of breaking the rules, even once? some of the people here talk about all the exciting things they've seen or done before, all because they broke one small rule. do you ever stop to think that it could be...fun?" jake questions, voice low. his eyes are wide and shaking, darting to and fro as if committing your whole face to memory.

"i—," you begin, unsure of what to say. you have thought of asking, even begging your mom to let you out into the city for one day. to see all the outsiders and their strange clothes and loud music.

but you could never go through with it. your mom would tell the pastor of your sinful curiosity the minute the words would leave your mouth.

"stealing is not breaking one small rule," you protest.

jake huffs out a breath. "aren't you tired of all of this? all of this forbidden stuff?"

you shake your head, trying to wrap your head around the words coming out of jake's mouth.

"your father's the pastor, jake," you say, voice trembling. "how could you..."

"the book had these pictures," jake cuts in, voice picking up as if it excited him to recount what he saw.

"the women in the book...they were naked."

you take a step back, clamping a hand down on your mouth.

"jake, what's gotten into you?" you question, heart beating wildly.

"i just want to know about the outside world, ________," jake reasons, running a hand through his hair.

"it's not as bad as the elders make it out to be," jake continues. "i haven't burst into flames, have i?"

you merely stare, uneasy at how blatant jake is about his sinful acts.

"do you want to see? i could borrow it from jay," jake offers, voice dropping to an even quieter whisper.

you stand there, a million different thoughts running through you. in all honesty, you wanted to take a look, never having seen any naked body other than your own. but even now, knowing that she was nowhere near, you could feel your mother's burning gaze on you. disappointed, intimidating, warning you to be a good child of God or face the wrath of hell.

you know this is wrong, or so you've been told. jake is treading a dangerous path and he seems adamant on roping you along. and yet...

"yes," you answer before you could stop yourself.

"b-but wait! how are you going to show me? we have to be careful," you hurriedly add, glancing around in case anyone was near enough to hear the atrocities you and jake are talking about.

"there's a secret back room in one of the barns. i go there to rest during breaks or after work and no one else ever goes there," jake hurriedly says, crowding back into your personal space. you notice the slight shake in his hands and the way his ears redden.

"o-okay," you say with a nod. "when?"

"later tonight," jake offers.

"during supper, we can sneak out while everyone else eats," jake continues. you feel his fingers on your arm again and this time, jake lets his whole hand flatten against the sleeve of your dress, his warmth seeping down to your skin.

you gasp, but stay frozen. jake's other hand lays on your waist and you shake uncontrollably, both terrified and excited at the prospect of jake touching you.

jake pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours. he's breathing just as hard as you.

"you know, i thought about...if you would look the same as the women in the book," jake murmurs, eyes closed.

you shiver. you should be appalled, disgusted by how jake is acting now, but all you feel is a warm, bubbling feeling in your abdomen and an insatiable itch to clutch at jake's clothes.

"jake, we can't—," you begin, but the deep toll of the church bell interrupts you, signaling the start of the day.

you and jake spring apart, knowing that the whole commune would be outside in a matter of minutes, heading off to their designated duties for the day.

before you could get another word in, jake rushes forward, kissing you. you gasp, but as if on instinct, your hands grasp at his face. a second later, you thread your fingers through his hair, the strands offering little resistance as you gently tug, just as you've always dreamed of doing. but as quickly as it started, jake pulls away, pushing you back at the same time.

"tonight," jake breathes out, walking backward. "at dinner. the last barn to the left."

you nod once, pausing for a moment as you watch jake tread further away from you. you wave before sprinting toward your house.

your mother would be in the kitchen. you would be assigned with peeling the oranges. or cooking the eggs. or buttering the toast.

to you, at this moment, it didn't really matter.

all your eyes could see, all your heart could feel is jake.

---

dinner was a tense affair.

your mom questioned your uncharacteristic early start this morning, and all you could do was supply a pathetic lie about wanting to see the rose garden started by some of the older women in the commune.

she made a point to warn you to be on time for dinner. you felt an uneasiness settle in your stomach at this, thinking of all the ways your and jake's plan could go wrong.

but rushing out of the mess hall now, legs pumping as you dash through the field toward the barns, all of your worries melt away.

you remember the kiss, jake's fingers digging into your side, his smooth hair in between your fingers.

having separate dining halls for the men and women, you weren't sure when jake would be there, but you decided you had to leave as soon as you can. you feigned a stomachache to your mother, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

you knew this was yet another lame excuse, but you went the rest of the day without seeing jake. you were subjected to teach the younger ones about scripture today at the school, but all you wanted was to feel jake again. to see him. to touch him.

you slow down as you approach the barns, jogging over to the last one to the left. your breathing is heavy, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. another shiver of excitement goes through you as you push the barn door open.

the barn is one of the unused ones, a single light turned on at the very back. you walk toward the dim bulb, the glass-encased fluorescent hanging precariously by a thin wire.

you realize quite belatedly that jake never gave any specifics on how to find the secret room. but just then, you hear a faint shuffle to your left. despite the darkness, you can make out the faint outline of a head peeking out from behind a stack of hay.

"jake," you whisper, crossing the space between you in long strides.

jake emerges from the shadows, an easy smile on his face.

"it's back here," jake ushers you behind the tower of hay, his hand easily finding yours. "hurry, before anyone sees us."

you tighten your grip on jake's hand, the same feeling of exhilaration building up within you. you watch as jake approaches the section of the wall that's hidden behind the hay, pulling open a flimsy door that's half your height, cleverly disguised as part of the wall. inside, you can barely make out the soft flickering of candlelight.

jake nudges you forward. "it's a tight squeeze but it's comfortable enough inside."

you crouch, laying your hands on the dirt floor to steady yourself. you scurry forward through the door and emerge on the other side.

the space inside the room is enough for two, tall enough for you to stand in. you straighten up, dusting yourself off. jake follows inside, shutting the door behind him.

you look around and spot a metal box in one corner next to the single candle burning. a blanket is spread out on the ground.

"here," jake says, pulling you gently towards the blanket. you sit down, perching yourself right across jake.

jake takes hold of the metal box, unlatching the lid. inside, you can see a number of trinkets and other objects.

"are those...cigarettes?" you ask in disbelief. jake chuckles, brandishing the red and white box.

"found them in dad's safe," jake replies nonchalantly. "this one, too."

jake holds up a glossy rectangle, flipping it so it faces you. you let out an audible gasp.

"a phone? but we're not allowed phones," you say, letting jake place the device on your palm.

"i know. but that's my dad's. you know how the elders are the only ones allowed phones. so, i took his." jake is grinning now, the candlelight casting sharp shadows across his handsome face.

"but, how? doesn't he notice? what's in it?" you rattle off, turning the phone over in your hands.

"i bring it back every night once i'm done exploring what's inside," jake explains. he reaches over, pressing a button on its side. a moment later, it lights up, momentarily blinding you with how close you're holding it to your face.

you stare in awe as the screen comes alive. it dims after it fully turns on, displaying in big, blocky letters the time of night.

6:51

supper would be over soon.

jake takes the phone from you, setting it down on the blanket between you two.

"we can look at that later," jake reassures. "i got the book from jay at lunch today."

you swallow as jake pulls out the book from the very bottom of the box. jake moves the candle closer and your eyes instantly go wide.

the front of the book is glossy, indeed, just like jake said it would be. but the woman pictured on it seemed too lifelike, as if she wasn't merely printed on paper. her tan skin is on full display, with nothing covering her body but a bathing suit, one you've seen outsiders wear the few times you've seen pictures of them.

the bathing suit is black, the neckline going down almost to her stomach. you see the side of her breasts peek out from the garment holding it in place, and from what you can see, her whole back seems to be bare.

your eyes drift down to her crotch, covered by a thin strip of fabric. she stands, legs apart, her hands on her waist, baring her entire naked body to the world.

the longer you stare, the hotter you feel. an ache between your legs starts to make itself known.

"there's even more inside," jake whispers, sidling up to you. he presses his shoulder against yours as he reaches over to flip the book open.

your eyes scan the text on the next page, coming across a word you don't hear or see often.

"magazine," you mumble. a memory pings in your head.

"mom told me about magazines. this is a magazine," you say in mild amazement. "she says they're full of lies and are forbidden in the commune."

"magazine," jake repeats, drawing out the word slowly. he flips through more pages, stopping at one with a woman pushing her naked chest out.

your heartbeat quickens. you trace your finger over the picture, passing over the image of her plump breast, perky with a pinkish hue around the nipple.

you recall the science classes at the school. the teacher had recited the parts of the woman's body in a flat, monotonous voice. nipple. areola. vagina. cervix. she drilled it in everyone's head that these parts are not to be said aloud outside of the classroom.

"mine doesn't look like that," you comment absentmindedly. "they're not as...round."

you look up to see jake staring intently at you. his eyes drift down to your chest and you feel a new wave of heat wash over you.

jake licks his lips as he shifts closer, and as if compelled by his own actions, you do the same, facing jake fully.

you touch the buttons on the front of your dress.

you know what you're about to say and do next is beyond sinful. but you've already crossed the line the second you laid your eyes upon the magazine. a strange desire bubbles up inside you.

"do you want to see?" you ask quietly, watching jake's expression carefully.

"can i?" jake asks back, peering into your eyes. you can smell him again, faint lavender adding to the mix of his scent. you imagine jake in the bath, naked, water and bubbles washing over his skin.

you shudder involuntarily.

"yes," you breathe out.

you start to undo your dress, hands shaking. you've never done this before. you're forbidden to. you know God watches you now with disdainful eyes, but you can hardly find it in you to care.

you undo the last button, pulling the sleeves of your dress down and off your arms. the night is chilly and you shiver as the air meets your skin.

unmarried women in the commune are advised not to wear bras as they are still considered pure and innocent and in no need of such womanly garments.

so you sit, barechested in front of jake, shaking in the cold, in anticipation, in mild fear.

jake's jaw goes slack, taking in the image in front of him. he glances back at the magazine before returning his gaze to your own breasts. you resist the urge to cross your arms.

instead, you reach over, delicate fingers wrapping around jake's wrists. you guide them up, stopping right above your waiting chest.

"here," you whisper, but your voice sounds strangely loud in the silence of the night. "touch me, jake,"

you place his hands over your mounds and you gasp at the abrupt warmth. jake chews on his lip, fingers softly kneading your skin.

"do you touch yourself like this?" jake asks, eyes still wide in amazement and curiosity. he gives a light squeeze and you whimper, covering your mouth to stop yourself from crying out.

"sometimes," you say, voice slightly muffled behind your palm. "in the bath. when no one's looking."

jake exhales, pulling his hands back momentarily. he lines his pointer finger with your nipples, flicking up experimentally. you groan, throwing your head back.

"it feels good," you breathe out. "jake, it feels good all over."

jake pinches your nipples and you yelp, falling forward against jake. he catches you, cradling you to his chest. you breathe onto his neck, a warm stickiness pooling under your skirt.

"touch me, too," jake says right in your ear. he guides your hand on his crotch and your fingers curl around something stiff.

"please," jake implores, voice high and almost whining.

you watch in fascination as jake strains against his trousers. you caress up and down, feeling him harden even more under your touch. jake squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"sit over me," jake commands, pulling you onto his lap. there's a loud roaring in your ears as something overtakes your body completely.

"keep touching me and i'll do the same," jake instructs, returning his hands to your chest. he curls his fingers into your flesh and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

you take ahold of jake through his pants, squeezing and rubbing. jake is bucking into your hand, small breaths escaping his lips.

your head is spinning, your cheeks are flushed, and a faint guilt tugs at your chest. but you've thrown all care out the window, the only thing on your mind being jake's rough fingers tugging and pinching and grabbing at your breasts.

the bubble of heat in this little room breaks when you hear the dark notes of the church bell ringing, marking the end of supper.

you gasp, pulling away from jake as he does the same. you hurriedly button up your dress, trying to calm your breathing. jake gathers the things strewn on the floor, tossing them back into his box.

you stand, smoothing down your dress and tucking your hair back behind your ear. no words are spoken as jake blows the candle out, pushing the door open to free both of you.

you scramble out of the small space, heart still pumping wildly against your chest. you feel jake's hand rest on one side of your face, urging you to look at him.

"meet me by the river early tomorrow," jake says, now holding your face with both hands.

you blink, unsure of what to say. the rush of blood is still loud in your ears and all you want is for jake to touch you again. to keep touching you.

to touch you forever.

"please," jake adds, running his thumb over your bottom lip. you quiver at the action, stilling only when you feel him press his lips against yours.

your lips part and so does his, and as if guided by something else, your tongues move into each other's mouths, licking and sucking and breathing into and from each other.

you feel dirty, sinful even. but you start to wonder why you cared so much in the first place.

"tomorrow," jake repeats, pulling away.

the bells toll even louder. you run out of the barn without a second thought, eyes dancing with excitement, lips tender, and one single button of your dress undone.

---

you toss and turn all night.

flashes of jake invade your mind, pulling you out of sleep just as you feel yourself drifting. the way he breathed against your face. the stiffness in your hand. the pleading in his voice.

you prayed, too. prayed to God for forgiveness, for mercy. but you prayed for jake, too. to feel his lips again, to have his hands on other parts of your body.

you cry, quietly and pathetically, ashamed in the face of God. ashamed because the arousal hasn't left you. it burns almost painfully and you wish and you pray and you beg for morning to come.

you glance at the clock next to your bed and see that it's half past five a.m. you ran into jake at six yesterday, so he should be at the river by now if you're to go off of that.

you quickly dress yourself, careful to keep your movements precise and quick so as to not wake anyone in your house.

you practically float down the stairs on your toes, nimbly avoiding all the loose floorboards you know would make a sound.

you steal one glance back inside your house before taking off. you walk at first, trying to calm your nerves, but you build up to a run once you pass through the fence's gate, feeling the morning air whipping at your face.

the climb up the hill, usually a strenuous effort on your end, seems like nothing on this day, your legs taking you over it in no time.

you can see the river now, and you see the faraway figure of someone hunched over, sitting on the riverbank. excitement rips through you and you're running, running faster than you've ever had.

jake hears you before he sees you, your breathing loud and labored and your boots stomping against the wet grass. he turns to see you slowing down to a jog as you approach him.

he stands, wordlessly meeting you as you sink into his arms.

you kiss and the roar of desire is back, a single flame flickering in the blue-hued, early-morning world that surrounds you.

jake pulls you towards an area behind a large tree, and you see that the same blanket from last night is laid out on the grass. without parting your lips, jake pulls you down with him on the spread-out cloth, laying you down.

"i watched things on dad's phone last night," jake admits, kissing your jaw. you squirm underneath him, his lips sending a ticklish sensation over you.

"i watched people do it," jake murmurs against your skin, lips dragging down your neck.

"i watched them make love."

you pull jake away from where he's kissing you behind your ear, a questioning look on your face.

"you can...watch people make love? on the phone?" you ask meekly, trying to understand how some people can let such a sacred act be seen by anyone other than themselves and God.

jake nods, hands smoothing up your sides. "yes. and they do it so loudly, so roughly, so vulgarly. not like how we're taught."

you stare, wide-eyed. "what?"

"they curse a lot," jake adds. "and they call on God's name so much. we're told to never do that unless in praise."

your breath hitches when you feel jake smooth his hands over your clothed chest. you feel your nipples stiffen under his touch.

"what if it felt so good to them, they needed to call on God?" you whisper. jake ponders on this for a moment, eyes scanning over your face.

"i want to feel as good as them," jake finally says. he starts to undo your dress, the same way you did last night.

"we're going to...to make love?" you ask as jake slots himself between your legs. you feel the same stiffness from last night press up against your thigh.

"please," jake responds, pulling your dress open. your nipples are taut, begging to be touched.

jake dips his head down, latching his mouth onto one of your nubs, sending your whole body spasming. you moan, a new kind of pleasure coursing through your veins. jake presses his hips onto yours, right between your legs and you nearly cry at how good the pressure feels.

you push your core against jake's own crotch, swiveling your hips around trying to find the delicious friction you felt.

"i want to, please. i want to, so bad," jake pleads against your chest.

jake bunches your skirt around your torso, exposing your lower half and the thin, white, commune-approved underwear you have.

"please," you whine, not even sure of what you're saying.

"me, too. make love to me, jake."

jake groans, sitting upright, hands already tugging at his belt. he undoes the buckle, unzipping his pants before pulling the garments down to his thighs.

you stare half in awe and half in curiosity as jake strokes himself a few times. a clear liquid spills from the tip and you feel your mouth involuntarily water.

"can i take this off?" jake asks, hooking a finger under the hem of your underwear. you nod, cringing slightly as you feel the sticky fabric pull away from your skin as jake discards of it.

"it's so wet," jake observes, reaching down to run a finger between your folds.

"ngh!" you cry out, twitching at the sudden contact. no one has ever touched you down there. you've never touched yourself down there other than to wash.

jake presses the pads of his fingers against your core, rubbing lightly. you throw your head back, thighs already shaking.

"does this feel good?" jake asks, pressing down harder. you nod again, unable to form any coherent thoughts or sentences.

"i saw that they did this," jake says before plunging a finger into your hole.

stars burst right before your eyes when you feel jake push his thick digit into you. the feeling is foreign, a weird pressure but pleasurable nonetheless.

jake pumps it in and out of you, observing your face as he does so. you open your eyes to meet his and you see jake's pupils blown wide, his whole face a light tint of pink.

"still good?" jake asks.

"yes," you gasp, your hips pushing off the ground as you try to chase more of this feeling.

"some of them...," jake begins, pausing his movements. you start to protest but your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel jake push in another finger.

"...use two."

a slight burn at the added stretch makes you wince, your hand coming down to grab jake's wrist.

"s-slowly," you supply, opening your legs wider. jake nods in understanding, moving his fingers at a gentler pace.

you mewl, feeling the drag of his knuckles against your inner walls. you're dizzy with pleasure, overwhelmed with the thought that something could feel this good.

"it keeps coming out of you," jake says in awe. "you're getting even wetter."

"it feels so good," you gasp. "jake, please."

"what should i do?" jake asks, leaning over you. you look up, jake's face right in front of yours. not knowing what else to do, you pull him down to you in a kiss.

jake moans against your lips, speeding up his movements in and out of you. you cry into the kiss, never wanting this feeling to end.

"i-i'll put it in," jake whispers into your mouth.

jake pulls his fingers out of you and you fight the instinct to whine. jake sits back on his heels, watching as you clench around nothing.

you see his gaze darken as he takes in the sight of your dripping core, his hand coming down to pump at his shaft.

"it might hurt," jake warns. "that's what they told us."

you smile weakly. "us, too."

jake grins back at you, scooting forward to line himself up with you. jake presses the tip against your hole, watching for your reaction. he slides a little more in, and you let out a squeak.

"it's much bigger than your fingers," you say, with slight panic in your voice.

"i'm here," jake says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "you'll be okay."

you feel jake push in some more and your whole body jerks in surprise. tears prickle your eyes but you focus on evening out your breathing. underneath the evident sting, a steady throb of pleasure beats down in your core.

"it feels so warm," jake gasps out. "God help me."

jake sinks all the way in, unable to contain himself, and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling jake deep in you. you're afraid to move in case it starts to hurt more.

"f-fuck," jake curses, hips pulling back before sinking all the way in again. you cover your mouth with both hands, unsure of all the feelings you're having at the moment.

"i'm sorry," jake whispers, kissing your cheek, then your nose, then both of your eyes. "i-it feels too good."

"it's okay," you reply, trying to contain the tremor in your voice. "keep going. it feels better now."

and it does. the more jake moves, the more you could relax. jake hits a spot inside you that completely overrides the nearly unbearable stretch and it takes everything in you not to double over in surprise.

"again," you say. "just like that."

jake stops for a moment before repeating the angle in which he thrusted in you.

there it is again. a jolt of electricity goes through your abdomen and you shudder in delight.

"yes!" you cry out. "m-more."

jake picks up his speed, careful to keep it the same way you like it. it's as if the gates of heaven themselves have opened, showing you a world of pleasure you've never seen or experienced before.

the stretch has dulled now, and the fullness you feel adds to the coil in your stomach, tighter and tighter with each thrust.

you wrap your legs around jake's waist, wanting him, needing him closer.

jake lays himself over you, his chest pressed to yours, his hips moving nonstop. you've started to meet his movements, chasing something you're not quite sure exactly what.

"it does feel good," you manage to say between moans. "so good."

jake pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you.

"have you ever finished before?" jake questions. your eyebrows pinch together and you shake your head. jake slows down, grinding into you shallowly.

"finished?" you repeat.

"yeah, when you pleasure yourself, you finish," jake recounts. you shake your head again.

"we're not allowed to, remember? i've never touched myself that way," you admit bashfully.

"it's okay," jake reassures, kissing you softly. "you'll feel it here."

jake lays a hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down. you inhale, fingernails digging into jake's shoulder.

"move faster," you request. "but keep pressing there."

jake looks at you in bewilderment but follows nonetheless. he picks up his pace again, still keeping his hand on your stomach. you feel a pressure build up where jake is pressing and you feel your whole body shake.

"you're getting tighter," jake says through gritted teeth, trying to maintain his movements.

"s-sorry, feels too good," you apologize.

"i think i feel it," you add. "keep going, please."

this sends jake into a frenzy, hips snapping at a speed you can't keep up with. you let out a sob as you feel your entire being ignite with every push of jake's shaft in you.

"i can feel myself," jake points out. "i can feel myself through your belly, God."

the words confuse you but you look down to see jake protruding through your lower abdomen with every thrust. the sight sends your brain into overdrive and you moan your loudest as a white-hot current rips through you.

you vaguely hear jake groan as he roughly grabs your hips, keeping you in place. he pumps in and out of you a few more times before stopping. you continue to swivel your hips, squirming at the strange sensation that's taking over your body.

eventually, you relax, feeling strangely peaceful. you feel lightheaded but in the best way, as if you're floating on clouds.

jake grunts, pulling himself out of you. the sensation makes you cringe and you feel something drip out between your legs.

"is that—is that your seed?" you ask in mild disbelief, though still too out of it to care much.

"yeah," jake says, nodding, collecting the drops of himself that spilled out before poking his finger back in you.

"jake!" you protest, still much too sesitive.

jake pulls his finger out and grins at you. he settles beside you, pulling you onto his chest.

---

the church bell tolls not long after.

the early morning sun rises above the tree line, and if you were to stand on the other side of the hill, you would have watched the orange glow with amazement and bated breath.

there's a breeze that blows through your messy hair and the smell of morning dew on the grass is mixed with jake's lavender soap.

breathing in the valley air, another prayer falls quietly from your lips.

"we do not deserve your forgiveness," you say . "but you are most merciful and we, are merely grateful sinners."

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

Forbidden Crown - VIII

Summary: Will you follow your head, and stay in Tir Asleen to marry Airk and rule your kingdoms together? Or will you go with your heart, and run away with Kit to hide in the valley of Nockmaar?

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: non-explicit smut, kissing, homophobia, commitments, arranged marriages

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: we’re finally here… the final chapter. Thank you to everyone who’s supported what is over 30k words of pure lesbian pining. Extra thanks to anyone leaving comments, replies, or messages to tell me how the story has affected you—whether it be positive or negative, your words brightened my day!! Onwards and upwards, onto the next writing process, but until then, without further ado… here’s the Forbidden Crown finale :,)

Kit gazed at her reflection in her bedchamber’s polished mirror, the white satin of her gown flowing around her ankles. She shifted her legs with a grumble, feeling bare beneath the billowing fabric.

“Please hold still, Your Highness,” the seamstress murmured from behind, carefully removing pins from the gown. Kit couldn’t recall her name in the moment. “I wouldn’t wish to prick you.”

With the last pin removed, the seamstress stood and circled Kit, inspecting every inch of the newly-finished garment, The way the lace dipped low at her back before forming sleeves that cascaded down her arms like bells, while the satin hugged her hips, gathering at her thighs before softening into delicate folds around her feet. Every stitch was impeccable, the dress handcrafted specifically to give Kit the appearance of the most elegant bride.

With a final nod of approval, the seamstress began to pack up her workbox. “The gown is ready for the morrow’s matrimony, my lady,” she said. “You’re sure to make a radiant bride.”

As she left Kit alone to undress, Kit couldn’t help but note how the seamstress had avoided her gaze throughout the entirety of the fitting. It didn’t surprise Kit; much of the castle staff had been behaving strangely after the events of the previous night. Of course, they knew better than to blatantly give voice to scorn about any member of the royal family, but their sudden eschewal and reproachful stares were difficult to ignore.

It wasn’t as if Kit was overly concerned by their sudden change in demeanor; she had long grown accustomed to strange looks—after all, she wasn’t exactly a ‘beloved’ princess. What troubled her more was how you were faring. Your parents had ordered guards posted outside your doors during the night, making it impossible for Kit to check on you after you were sent to your separate chambers.

Kit turned her attention back to the mirror. Despite her unease, she chuckled softly at the sight of herself in the gown—the white gown; a color worn by brides to signify their purity, something Kit was proud to admit that you had ruined many times over.

Reaching behind herself, she tugged at the laces holding the gown together, only to groan upon realizing the seamstress had left her locked in a double-knot. She clutched at the fabric in frustration, knowing she’d be resigned to waiting until her lady’s maid came to relieve her.

Just when she was considering reaching for a dagger to cut herself free, her door swung open. She turned away from her reflection, expecting her maid—and ready to scold for the delay—but instead came face-to-face with her brother.

“Airk,” she exclaimed in surprise. “What are you…? I could’ve been undressed! You shouldn’t…”

“Come with me,” he interrupted, taking her hand and pulling her along.

Kit was not one to yield to orders and quickly began to protest, but her objections went unheard as Airk continued to lead her through the castle corridors. Anxiety gnawed at her as he steered her around the busy servants who paid them no mind—why would they? To them, it was simply a prince walking with his sister through their home, never mind that Kit was debuting her wedding gown a day too early.

“Could we please just…”

“Here,” Airk opened the door to a random guest chamber and pushed Kit inside. “Half an hour. No more,” he declared cryptically before slamming the door shut.

Kit stared at the wooden barrier in shock and confusion before revolving to take in the room. It was small, dark, lit by nothing but a mullion window in the corner, and only by its narrow rays of sunlight could Kit see you, standing in the center of the floor, donning your own fluffy white gown.

“Princess…” she breathed, taking in the sight of you in your dress. Ivory brocade embraced your chest and torso, flowing into a full skirt around your feet. Gilded laces formed a mock-corset at your waist, matching the gold trim along your neckline and attached hood. You were the picture of wealth, the portrait of a perfect bride, and if you had been wearing that dress in any other context, Kit might have taken you right there and then.

“I’ve just finished my final fitting,” you explained, stepping closer.

“As did I,” Kit chuckled, gesturing to her own gown. “But, what are you…” Her voice trailed off as she noticed the tears staining your face. You wrapped your arms around her neck and kissed her gently, your lips salty from crying. Kit hesitated, but soon brought her hands to your waist, drawing soothing circles into your hips in an attempt to comfort you. Her small gesture prompted the lump in your throat to rise again, and you pulled back, deepening Kit’s confusion. “Princess, what…”

“I just… I wanted to see you… one final time,” you whispered, your voice shaking as you held her tight.

“You… final?” Kit questioned, a nervous chuckle slipping through. Her hands clasped at the small of your back, pulling you closer. “Don’t be ridiculous, Princess. We leave tonight, remember?”

All you could do was shake your head, unable to meet her eyes.

Kit’s face faltered. “No?” She moved you to sit on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I don’t understand…”

Your gaze dropped to your lap as you spilled everything in a single breath—how your kingdom was in dire straits, how Tir Asleen had been financially supporting Azarenth in exchange for your betrothal to Airk, and how your engagement was necessary to save your people. When you finished, you looked up to find Kit’s eyes swelling with tears.

“So… this is it?” She asked, her voice cracking.

You didn’t respond; you swallowed the lump in your throat and seized her lips in a passionate force, almost as if she could take this thing from you, as if you could somehow rid yourself of this reality if you kissed her hard enough. She grasped your hips, falling back onto the bed as you covered her with your body, your hand already slipping beneath her dress.

This would be how you remembered each other—faces flushed and limbs twisted in the linen sheets, hair splayed about the pillow, skirts bunched at your waists, eyes clouding over in pleasure upon reaching your peaks. Kit brought her lips to yours as you came down, removing her fingers from within you and wiping them on the soiled coverings. “I love you,” she whispered against your skin.

“I love you too,” you murmured, still overtaken with bliss. But as your breath evened, and your skin cooled, you felt the fragile oasis you had built begin to crumble, leaving only a devastating reality behind. “It… nothing will ever feel whole… not without you.”

Kit shook her head, stroking your cheek. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

“I do,” you insisted, your voice breaking again. “I’ll remain in Tir Asleen, but my heart will wander with you, wherever you go—whether that’s Galladoorn or beyond.”

Kit desperately wanted to protest—argue that you would be sisters, that you could see each other all the time, that you could live for little stolen moments like this during visits. But deep down, she knew better—that if you would be risking your lives for slivers of secret bliss, and even if you were extra cautious, your royal responsibilities would keep you far too busy for such endeavors.

Instead, she lifted your chin, meeting your tear-filled gaze. With a sad smile, she whispered, “I want you to have something.”

She helped you sit up, smoothing out your hair while you pulled your freshly-wrinkled skirt over your legs. The lace of her sleeve bunched around her elbow as she pushed it up, revealing a thin, gray string hanging loosely around her wrist; it was frayed, discolored, worn to mere threads, but you instantly recognized it as the once bright-pink ribbon she had stolen from you as children. With one careful motion, she released the knot, letting the ribbon dangle freely from her pinched fingers.

That lump returned to your throat. “Kit, I…”

“Take care of this, would you?” She gingerly took your wrist, wrapping the ribbon around it. “It means a lot to me.”

You shook your head. “Kit, no, I can’t take this. You’ve kept it for fifteen years.”

“Then give it back to me in another fifteen.”

There was nothing you could do to stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks as Kit secured the knot. The tattered strings appeared foreign on your wrist, but not as much as the pale band encircling Kit’s—a narrow strip of skin shielded from sunlight for nearly a lifetime. Unable to trust your voice, you simply nodded, silently accepting her gesture.

She caressed your cheek, her thumb wiping away your tears, though her own had begun to fall. Her voice came out weak, barely audible. “I love you.”

You let out a watery laugh, your own voice trembling. “I love you too.”

She leaned in for another kiss, the taste of salt lingering between you, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. You both pulled back reluctantly, standing up to fix and flatten your gowns as the door cracked open, Airk’s head peeking through, his eyes shut tight. “Are you presentable?”

Both of you let out breathy laughs. Kit took your hand as she responded, “You’re clear.”

Airk opened his eyes, blushing slightly. “Forgive my intrusion, but the half-hour has passed.”

You smiled back warmly. “We truly appreciate it, Airk. Thank you.”

He bowed his head, extending a hand to Kit. “Come on, then.”

Kit glanced at you, her eyes filled with unspoken words suppressed by the absence of time. She squeezed your hand once, holding on until she was out of reach. And then the door snapped shut, and Kit was gone, and you were once again left alone, surrounded by empty darkness.

The following morning, Kit had expected to be awakened before dawn by a frantic servant sent to fetch the bride. Instead, she awoke to golden rays of sunlight spilling through her chamber window and the cheerful sound of birds chirping outside. She rubbed her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the newfound brightness when she heard a soft rap at her door.

Expecting her lady’s maid, she sat up. “Enter.”

The door swung open to reveal Sorsha, standing in the doorway with her hands clasped in front of her.

“Mother,” Kit groaned, her voice raspy with the weight of sleep. “What are you… am I late?” Her gaze drifted to her wedding gown, carefully hung on a rack in the corner of her chamber. “Nobody came to fetch me…”

Sorsha cut her off with a shake of her head. “Make yourself presentable and meet us downstairs.”

“Presentable?” Kit pressed. “I… where’s my maid? I’ll need help donning the gown…”

“There will be no need for that,” Sorsha interrupted. “Dress in your everyday attire and come downstairs. We’re met in the Great Hall.”

Before Kit could further question, her mother made a swift exit, clicking the door shut behind her. Kit sighed, throwing off the covers and dragging herself out of bed. She trudged to the storage chest at the foot of her bed, selecting a loose, woad-dyed blue tunic, some boots, and black trousers. As she dressed, a feeling of unease crept through her—fear of the unknown gnawing at her insides, coupled by an intrusive, pondering voice rattling through her mind and growing louder with each step, only ceasing upon reaching the Great Hall.

All eyes turned to Kit as she stood in the doorway, but her gaze settled only on you—sitting in a beige linen gown, your confused expression mirroring that of your parents sat on either side of you. Sorsha motioned to the seat beside her, and Kit obliged, settling across from you and your parents.

The air in the hall hung as heavy as a drawn bowstring, everyone waiting with baited breath for the meeting’s purpose to be revealed. Kit glanced around the long table, realizing something was missing, and decided to ask, even if she didn’t necessarily want the answer. “Where is Graydon?”

Sorsha let out a long exhale before answering, a breath perhaps even she hadn’t known she was holding. “Prince Graydon and his father have returned to Galladoorn,” she replied finally. “They left early this morning, and Airk has gone with them.”

Everyone at the table seemed to gape at this news, but it was your mother who pressed further. “What do you mean my daughter’s betrothed has fled?”

“He hasn’t ‘fled,’” Sorsha clarified. “I’ve sent him to train with the knights of Galladoorn.”

Not a jaw in the room remained shut. Your mother’s face quickly hardened. “You’ve done what?”

Sorsha merely nodded. “He’s always been quite the swordsman; I think you’d agree. King Hastur certainly did. I had him demonstrate his abilities late last night, and he agreed to take him on as a trainee.” She turned her attention to Kit, her expression unreadable. “Due to this new arrangement, your betrothal to Prince Graydon is no longer necessary.”

Kit could have sworn her heart ceased its beating.

”And our daughter?” Your mother asked angrily. “What is the nature of her engagement?”

”Well,” Sorsha began. “Airk will reside in Galladoorn for the time being—five years, perhaps more. Because of this, I believe the best course of action would be to… postpone the nuptials.”

Something snapped inside your mother; she rose, slamming her hands on the table. “You’re delaying our daughter’s matrimony? You’ve decided all of this without even taking the time to discuss it with us?”

“I see no reason for such commotion.” Sorsha stated, folding her hands atop the table. “The engagement still stands, it’s simply postponed until further notice. Your alliance with Tir Asleen remains intact.”

She glared across the table, her gaze hard and unblinking. Your mother faltered, reminded of something she momentarily forgot; Sorsha held the power—she always had, whether financial, political, or otherwise. With an awkward clearing of her throat, your mother resumed her seat.

“But how shall I fare?” You couldn’t help but ask. “Am I to return to Azarenth for the next decade?” A sense of dread washed over you at the thought of living with your parents for another ten years, especially knowing what they know now. Not to mention, the idea of being away from Kit for just as long made your heart ache.

Sorsha took in a breath, fiddling with her hands as if preparing to say something controversial. “It is of utmost importance to keep up appearances… for the sake of our people, of course. After all, we’ve just made a spectacle of an engagement party.” She glanced at you. “Your parents may return to Azarenth. You shall remain here so our people see Airk’s departure as an unexpected change of circumstance rather than a capricious stunt.”

Something flashed within Sorsha’s eyes—something small and brief, almost imperceptible, but you saw it: recognition. This wasn’t about Airk, or her kingdom, or anything else but her acknowledging the love between you and her daughter. A short gasp escaped your throat as you realized this, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.

Your father turned to you, noticing your hand over your mouth. “Are you alright, Princess?”

You could barely speak; you stood, muttering something along the lines of “you must excuse me” before making a brisk exit, overwhelmed with emotion and unable to meet anyone’s gaze as you pushed through the doors of the Great Hall.

Kit stared after your retreating figure until you were out of sight, wanting nothing more than to run after you—to hold you in her arms, to cry together tears of joy, to promptly move all of your belongings into her chamber despite the protests she would face. It was Sorsha who shook her from her trance with a hand on her shoulder. “I believe we can handle the remainder of the meeting,” she said, gesturing to your still-seething parents. “Why don’t you go… settle your own arrangements.”

With a smile full of gratitude, Kit mouthed a quick word of thanks and dashed out of the Great Hall, determined to find you. She beelined toward your guest chamber, throwing open the door, but was met only with dark, empty space. Her heart quickened its pace, and she rushed through the castle corridors, her resolve to find you growing more desperate with each empty room. All hope was beginning to fade, and Kit became anxious. Her hand moved to fiddle with the ribbon on her wrist—a nervous habit she’d developed—but her fingernails only scratched a pale strip of sunless skin. In that moment—that moment of fleeting forgetfulness—she remembered the sacred oasis you two had shared for so many important moments, and suddenly, Kit knew exactly where you would be.

The wintry February air nipped at her skin as she stepped outside, the tall stone walls of the castle doing little to stave off the shivers running up her spine. Despite the chill, she pressed on until she reached the garden gates, finding you exactly where she thought she might—perched beneath the protective branches of the large tree. You had your knees tucked to your chest, your arms wrapped around yourself in a feeble attempt to shield against the frigid air. The wind whipped at your hair, leaving messy strands strewn about your face and framing your cheeks, stained red from a mixture of tears and the cold.

“You’ve never looked more beautiful,” Kit murmured, latching the gate shut behind her.

You lifted your head to look at her. “Kit…” you whispered, your voice shaky and fragile. “What… what’s happened?”

“I’m not sure myself,” Kit replied, moving to sit beside you. She smiled, reaching up to wipe away your tears. “Can’t we just enjoy it?”

You let out a shuddering breath, shaking your head. “I… I can’t…”

Kit frowned. “Why not?”

“I don���t understand,” you sniffed. “Your mother… after all this time… why?”

Kit smiled, brushing away the wisps clinging to your cheeks. “My mother knows of love,” she explained softly. “Her own union was not arranged.”

You sniffed again, hugging your knees tighter. “This doesn't feel true,” you admitted. “It feels like a cruel trick.”

“No tricks,” Kit assured. “It is true, Princess. Yes, there will be some conditions, and we must make sacrifices for a public appearance, but we can be together. Isn’t that what matters most?”

“But your brother,” you protested. “I’m still his betrothed. What happens when he returns from training?”

“We have at least half a decade until that day, perhaps more,” Kit chuckled. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She took your hands in hers, compelling you to look at her. “Princess, I may not know what fate has in store, but I do know I want you in it. I’ve known since our first kiss under this very tree. I remember it well—you wore that muddy pink gown, all tucked into a pair of my breeches. I’d never seen anyone so beautiful. Somehow, since that day, you’ve only grown more so. Every time I look at you, I manage to fall in love all over again.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Kit quickly shook her head. “We’ve been granted an opportunity, Princess, and if you’ll have me, I’d like to spend the rest of my days—or as long as I’m able—with you, falling in love again and again. Please, Princess. Will you let me?”

Kit’s words swirled in your mind like birds around the eye of a storm. You stared into her pleading eyes, filled with hope and adoration, and your own began to well with tears once more. Dropping her hands, you stood and silently made your way over to a barberry bush in a corner of the garden, Kit’s curious gaze following you all the way. Your fingers fell to your wrist, toying with the delicate knot Kit had tied so carefully the day before until it hung from your skin like a loose thread. Kit’s brow furrowed, but before she could speak, you plucked a branch from the barberry bush and used its piercing thorns to slice the ribbon in two.

A strangled gasp escaped Kit’s throat, her eyes following the tattered string as it drifted atop the garden dirt. “Princess…” she whispered, her face twisting with hurt and confusion. “I don’t… why…?”

You seized the two pieces and knelt beside her again. She couldn’t bring herself to look at you, only at the ruined ribbon hanging limp from your palm. Without a word, you took her left hand and tied one of the pieces around her fourth finger.

“I meant what I said,” you murmured, securing the final knot. “Nothing is whole, not without you, not even this ragged ribbon.” You chuckled breathily, your cheeks reddening at such a blatant display of sentiment, but you continued on. “Because it’s not mine—it hasn’t been in fifteen years—but it’s not yours either. It’s ours, and it cannot be complete without both of us.”

Kit stared down at her finger, once bare and reserved for Graydon’s wedding ring, now occupied by a sweet promise, a piece of you. The gray, uneven bow drooped down the back of her hand, brushing against her skin with every movement. Her heart swelled with affection, and she saw your gesture for what it was—a symbol of your commitment to her, as official as one could be within a realm of disdain.

“I promise myself to you,” you held out your own left hand, the other half of the ribbon resting in your palm. “Will you do the same?”

Kit let out a breathy laugh, overwhelmed with emotion. “What sort of question is that?” She secured the knot before bringing up her own left hand and intertwining it with yours, the tattered laces blending into each other like the tree branches overhead. “I love you, Princess.”

You sighed, a blissful smile painting your features. “I love you, always.”

As you tangled beneath the big tree, sealing your promise with a sweet kiss, you both knew how different your vow was from your previous betrothals; marriage may not have been about love, but the commitment you shared, your bond, would be forever forged within it.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @canmargesimpson @yourelliewillms @valenftcrush @camilleee222 @prettygirlfemme @slaytillieswooo @lovinglynny @joanvisitsrome @athenalive @mih11 @j-pacifica @everybodyhatesari @vii-ofswords @sofi4v13 @detmarmalade @at1nyzen @ikyk-leeknow @ingigisworld @willowthegremlin @undercuver

[ghoulishlygrey]

The New Mrs. Dekarios Chapter One

Chapter One

Find chapter two here <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale Dekarios x Fem!reader/Tav

18+ MDNI

Tags: weddings, tailor!astarion, bride!reader, oral sex, cunnilingus, wedding fluff, praise kink, soft Gale, sorcerer tav

Read it on Ao3

Enjoy!

Words: 3484

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The Waterdeep breeze tickled your face and sent your veil from out behind you, gracefully floating on the wind. You had just stepped out from the tower, you were wearing your dream wedding dress. You felt so beautiful, the dress fit you like a glove and accentuated all your best features. You stared down the aisle and your eyes met your fiancé’s. He looked so handsome in his formal wear, a deep purple with golden accents around the sleeve and collar. He was misty-eyed as his gaze fell to you, a deep sigh resonating in his chest as he brought a hand up to swipe at his eyes. Shadowheart and Karlach were already at the end, standing off to the left. They looked wonderful in the outfits you had picked out for them, though Karlach looked a tad uncomfortable to be wearing something so fancy. You were glad to have fixed her internal engine, and were glad to have freed Shadowheart from her toxic faith. They both smiled at you from across the venue, sharing the same sentiments. Alfira and some hired bards play a lovely tune in the corner, waiting for the bride, you, to show up. 

Lae’zel sat in the audience, not wanting to take place in such an event, she even used the word *istik* when asked about it. But she was here nonetheless, and that you were grateful for. Astarion unfortunately couldn’t be there, as your wedding took place during the day, albeit sunset. “I’ll show up to the reception, darling.” He assured you, putting another pin in your, at the time, too-big dress. Astarion had tailored it for you, his own little contribution to your big day and his own special way of being there for you. Withers stood in the middle of everyone, big book in hand and a blank expression on his decaying face. Classic. The teiflings you had slain the goblin leaders for made up the bulk of the audience, along with the remaining companions you picked up along the way. Wyll stood next to Gale, as he was presented with the honor of being best man. Tara, Gale’s tressym, sat on a pillow next to Wyll, two rings tied with twine around her collar. 

As you began to walk down the aisle, you thought about every event that led up to this moment. What if you had never been abducted? What if you had never walked past his malfunctioning portal? You would never know, and would never want to find out. After everything you had endured, it seemed to be all worth it in the end. Worth it for this moment. 

You finally reach the end of the aisle, handing off your bouquet to Karlach. It was composed of night orchids, a beautiful gift from Shadowheart that you just had to incorporate in your big day. She was one of your best friends, after all. 

Gale takes your now free hands in his, fingers running over your knuckles. “You’re stunning.” He rasps, a familiar tone to his voice that stirs something within you. 

“Thank you,” You reply, moving your hands to interlock your fingers with his, “You look very handsome.” And you meant it. You had never seen him wear something so extravagant and sophisticated, used to him wearing either light armor or his classic robes. He looked delicious, you thought, and if nobody else was here you’d drag his ass straight back into the tower and tear the clothes from his body, relishing in each button and buckle.

The fantasy doesn’t last long as you ground yourself and remember where you are. There was plenty of time for those shenanigans later.  

“Let’s begin.” Withers says, tone as formal as ever. 

“Welcome to all. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of,” He says your name, “and Gale in holy matrimony.” 

Withers prattles on with his speech, all the while you’re locked in eye contact with Gale. You’ve always loved his puppy dog eyes, big brown spheres that looked at you like you were the only girl in the world, a gaze that held you in such high regard. You give him a warm smile, one he returns with a slight chuckle, he was just so damn happy. 

“Do you,” Withers says your name,”Take Gale to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

This was it, the moment you had been waiting for since the first words you had spoken to this handsome man. “I do.” 

“And do you, Gale, take,” He says your name, “to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” Gale says, words spilling from his mouth the second Withers was done with the question. He was clearly excited, a fact that made you blush. 

“Now, the vows.” Withers grabs your attention, looking at you blankly but expectantly. You clear your throat, getting ready to address not only your lovely fiancé, but your massive audience too. Karlach hands digs in her suit jacket, pulling out a folded piece of paper and hands it to you. You nod in thanks. 

You unfold the paper, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, you were nervous; you weren’t used to giving big speeches. 

“Gale, my love,” you start, taking one of his hands while keeping the other one busy with holding the paper, “Ever since I pulled you out of that portal, I have loved you. I have loved you through our adventures, through our hardships, through everything we have faced. Even when you absorbed my rare magic items, which I still don’t know the logistics of, by the way-” That gets a chuckle from the crowd and Gale. His eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, a reaction that spurred you on to continue your speech, “-I have loved you.” You feel the tears in your own eyes now, you could just feel the love radiating from your lover as he stares at you, listening intently. 

“My love for you will never falter, like a star; when I am long gone my love for you will live on through our poetry, through the friendships we’ve made, and finally it will live through you. I have not regretted a second of our journey together, and if it takes an illithid tadpole for us to be together, so be it. I know we can tackle anything that’s thrown our way, we’ve been doing an amazing job already. So whatever comes next for us, I’m glad it’s with you.”

You hand the paper back to Karlach, turning back to Gale and giving him your full attention. To start, he says your name, voice like honey as he does. “Before you I was lost, wandering through life without purpose. I never knew what real love was, what it could be like, what it could feel like. When I first met you, not only was I taken by your beauty but your kindness. You could’ve easily walked past that malfunctioning portal but you didn’t. Instead you calmed it with your talent in magic, and pulled me out. If not for you I would be lost, you are the leading light in my life, and you have been since the moment I laid eyes on you. You have continued to take my breath away with your courage, valor, and talent and I will love you until my last breath. I shall say it one more time for emphasis; I love you.”

“Tara, if you will.” Withers signals to the tressym, who gets up from her purple silk pillow to rub against Gale’s leg. He picks her up, holding her out so you can take the rings from around her collar. “Thank you,” Gale says into her fur before setting her down, Tara seems to nod before heading back to her pillow, settling in to watch the rest of the ceremony. 

You hand your ring to Gale, holding out your left hand for him. He delicately takes your hand, sliding the ring over your ring finger, a perfect fit. It was your dream ring, everything about it was everything you ever wanted; everything you dreamt about since you were a little girl. 

The ring you got Gale was also beautiful, it was silver with embedded amethyst. Purple, his favorite color. 

You meet his gaze again as he takes your hands in his. You never knew a gaze could hold so much love and admiration until you met Gale, until you had this relationship. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride…” Withers looks like he very much wants to leave, or that he couldn’t care less, you couldn’t decide and you yourself didn’t care.

Gale gently moves his hand to cup your face, and your arms go to his shoulders. He pulls you closer before delivering a chaste kiss, sweet and simple. You return in kind, slotting your lips over his. 

The kiss is over as quickly as it started. Everyone in the audience has risen to their feet, applauding you as you take your new husband's hand and head down the aisle and back towards the tower. As you did, you sneak a glance over to your lover who to your surprise is already staring at you. “What?” You ask him, cheeks glowing with a pink blush.

“I’m looking at the most beautiful woman in the world, the new Mrs. Dekarios.” He beams at you, and you beam right back. Soon, you come upon the tower and you reach a hand out to open the door. 

“Ah, ah, ah, what do you think you’re doing?” Gale asks, putting his hand over yours and stopping you. “I’m opening the door? We have to get ready for the reception.” You glanced back at your guests, all of which were mingling, retrieving drinks from the various barrels and crates, and dancing to the music. 

“We do this right or not at all.” Gale says, and before you can question what he means he’s scooping you up into his arms earning a surprised squeal from you. “Gale-!” You say, arms automatically linking behind his head and around his shoulders. 

He gives you a wicked smile before kicking open the door and walking through. “There! Now we’ve done it properly.” He holds you in his arms for a moment longer, taking a moment to gaze upon your face. You take the opportunity to lean in and kiss him. The kiss starts out slow, so slow that Gale is able to delicately set you down without breaking it. However, it picks up quickly when Gale slides his tongue across your lips, requesting access. You allow it, opening your mouth for him, allowing your tongues to clash together. 

You feel his hands skate up your back and your arms around his shoulder tighten, pulling him as close as possible. What he does next makes you gasp into his mouth; he begins to undo the corseted back of your dress, hands expertly undoing your laces. You know exactly what he has in mind. “We can’t.” You say, barely breaking the kiss to get the words out before diving back in. There were so many people just beyond the front door, all of which were waiting on you. Gale just smiles against your lips before continuing his unlacing. He halts the kiss when he’s done, leaning back to get another look at you. “I need you.” He says, voice dripping with lust. And boy, did you want him, too. 

“But the others-” you start, turning your head to gesture towards the curtained front window.

“Can wait.” He cuts you off, leaning back in to make a trail down your neck with his mouth. You moan when he finds your pulse point, sucking lightly.

“Wouldn’t this be bad luck?” You chuckle, hands carding through his hair as he kisses back up your neck and towards your lips. 

“I think we’ve had enough bad luck to last us a lifetime. The world owes us.” He says, pulling back from your face to look into your eyes. His were twinkling, pupils blown wide in want. 

Your eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. The sun was setting steadily outside, the reception started when night overtook the sky. You wagered you had approximately twenty minutes of free time before people came looking for you. Your eyes drift back to his, and it’s like he’s almost reading your mind. “We have to be quick,” You start and you can see the excitement hit his face as it lights up. You slide out of your dress completely left in only your undergarments. He takes a second to take you in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.  

“I will ravish you properly later, my love, as you deserve. But for now I just need you, and you may have me in any way you desire.” 

As much as you’d love to be full of him, sheathed to the hilt on his cock, you wanted to make this time about him, wanted to give him pleasure. 

You sink to your knees in front of him and the shock on his face makes you chuckle. 

“What?” You ask, hands making themselves busy with the buttons on his trousers. His hands fall over yours, stilling your movements. 

“You don’t have to do that, this should be about us, not just me.” 

“We have all night to make it about us but for now shut up and let me ‘ravish you.’” You quote him to himself and he laughs, removing his hands from yours and letting you continue your unbuttoning. 

“I love you.” He says simply, gazing down at you with that familiar look, the look that made your knees weak and heart full. “I know.” You tease, finally pulling his trousers down his legs. 

His erection is already fully present, restrained behind the fabric of his underwear. Your mouth instantly starts to water, just the thought of taking him with your mouth stirs something in your core. 

You push the waistband of his boxers down and his cock springs free. You grip the base, earning a shudder from your husband. 

“So perfect,” He coos, hand going to your head and massaging gently. 

You just smirk up at him, making eye contact as you take the head in your mouth, tongue swirling around it and lapping up the salty precum. 

Gale’s head fell back with a groan, and his hand made a slight pressure against your scalp, a silent asking of you to take him further. 

You let him go entirely after that, if only for a moment. 

“So impatient.” You scolded light-heartedly.

He chuckles, “You’re the one who said we have to be quick.” 

You hum in response, going back to the task at hand. This time you do take him further, letting him in inch by inch. When you reach as far as you can, you wrap your hand around what you cannot, making sure he was covered entirely. 

You felt your eyes flutter shut as you worked him over, tongue rubbing the underside of his shaft. You hollow your cheeks, creating a suction that makes him gasp. 

“I fo-forgot how good you were at this.” He smiles down at you, the hand in your hair petting you. “Such a good girl.”

Something about his praise ignites something in you, shooting a wave of pleasure down to your core. 

It spurs you on, encouraging you to take him deeper, bobbing your head and opening your throat as his head hits the back of it. You suppress a gag, your saliva dripping from your mouth and down his shaft. 

He grunts and moans at every little movement you pull, whispering sweet little praises all the while. 

“So good, such a perfect mouth on a perfect girl.” He manages to get the sentence out through moans and grunts, hand on your head tangling in your hair, following each movement. 

It was just too much, the pressure between your legs grew with each word and sound he made. You reach down, hand disappearing below the waistband of your panties. Your fingers find your sensitive bud, making small circles around it and you moan against his cock. 

Gale catches what you’re doing and it sends a steady blush across his face. “You look so good doing that.” 

You whine, hand in your waistband moving faster with each breath you take. Soon you can feel his resolve faltering above you, his hips shaking and breath heavy. 

“I’m going to-”

“Do it.” You momentarily slide from his cock to look up at him before continuing your languid motions. 

With a few more head bobs, he’s there, releasing into your mouth. You take it in, lapping up every drop as it shoots in your mouth. Above you, he’s moaning, free hand over his mouth to keep himself from alerting everyone outside to your activities. 

With a little pop, you pull off his shaft, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“I saw what you were doing down there, did you finish?” He asks, helping you up before tucking himself back into his trousers. “No,” You were honest with him, you didn’t have enough time to finish yourself off, but that was fine, that moment was supposed to be about him anyways. But when you look at Gale, he almost looks offended.

“Well, we can’t have that!” He says grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch in the living room. You gasp when he (gently) pushes you down onto the cushions and kneels before you. 

“My lady,” He starts, grabbing one of your hands, “Allow me.” 

You part your legs for him, allowing access to your clothed cunt. “If you insist.” You laugh, allowing his hand to slip from yours as he pushes your underwear to the side.

Even though he’s seen it a thousand times by now, he always is in such awe when he gets to see your sex, gazing at it and you like he was lost in the desert and your pussy was water. 

He wastes no time diving in, licking one broad swipe up your folds. You mewl, back arching off the couch at the contact. He brings a hand to your lower stomach, keeping you firmly grounded.

“I have barely touched you yet you’re soaked, you truly are magic.” He says, momentarily watching you from between your legs. To him, you were magic itself. Somebody that he worshiped, someone that he loved. You knew all this, and returned it ten fold. 

He turns his attention back to your aching hole, tongue dipping in as he makes another stripe. He starts to lap at your hole, tongue moving in and out at a steady pace. You moan, long and loud and it causes him to pop up once again. “We must be quiet, dearest. We don’t want them hearing us.” He chuckles, face glistening with your juices. 

You laugh, making a show of you covering your mouth with your hand and beckoning him to continue. He does, diving back into your pussy with renewed vigor, lips coming to encircle your clit and sucking gently. You bite your hand, choking back a cry of ecstasy as he makes you see stars with his tongue alone. You gasp when he introduces his fingers, plunging one and then two into you. 

He moves in and out of you rhythmically and you find yourself rutting against his face, moaning whenever his nose rubbed against your clit. You were chasing your high, relishing in the feeling of the coil in your stomach tightening with every thrust of his fingers. His fingers are stretching you out so deliciously you can’t help the tears that spring from your eyes. You curse mentally, you’d have to redo your makeup before you went to your reception. 

A couple more plunges and you’re there, cumming around his fingers with a muffled scream. He laps at your hole more, catching every last drop of your orgasm. You collapse into the cushions, panting slightly as he moves to lay next to you. 

“Now *that* was magic.” You sigh, head looking to the side to catch a glimpse of Gale who is already staring at you. 

“Everything we do together is magic, my love.” He sits up, and you catch another glimpse of his beard, dripping with your slick. You blush, adjusting your underwear back to its proper position. 

He stands, “Alright, up you get.” He holds his hands out to you, “We have a reception to attend.” You glance out the window, goddammit, you were already running behind schedule. 

“Race you to the top of the tower.” You say, picking up your dress from its state on the floor and taking position at the base of the stairs.

“Oh, you’re on.” He says, running past you and up the stairs.

“I didn’t say ‘go!’”

You run after him, laughing the whole way.  

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

note: Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see more of my work don't forget to follow me here for updates and more fics.

[theoldsports]

Matrimony

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.7K words

SMUT 18+ ONLY. unprotected sex. possessiveness, flirting, drinking, body image/too tight dress, gaslighting.

THE WEDDING. FINALLY. CLICK HERE TO READ MORE.

The sheets in the large hotel bed were soft and smelled so clean. They lacked the heavy rose smell that lingered in the Snow home. It was a welcome change of pace.

Too bad [Y/N] had hardly slept a wink in them. She was too nervous. It was the day of her wedding, after all.

She didn’t hate Coriolanus. She had before, but she didn’t now, not really. Coriolanus had slept well last night, which he rarely did. He only slept a few hours a night too often. [Y/N] thought her nerves had increased due to the proximity of the wedding, Coriolanus’ had subsided as the day drew closer because it was likely that he thinking he was one day closer to fully having [Y/N] under his thumb. But whoever knew what Coriolanus was thinking?

[Y/N] was worried about saying I love you and I do. She knew Coriolanus didn’t want her to be so anxious about it and reminded her, with a kiss to her forehead each time, that she could do it. He loathed being supportive, but he was getting better at pretending. It was less exhausting for him now.

If nothing else, tonight would be a party and a party meant she would drink and eventually she would blackout, if she was lucky. And Coriolanus would get her back upstairs to their hotel room and fuck her good and hard, so he would be happy. And they would wake up still wed the next morning. And he would be still be haughty and she would still be discontented. And that would be the first day of the rest of their lives.

[Y/N] had watched Coriolanus leave quietly through the door nearly an hour before. The few moments of rest she was able to get from her night of sleep ceased when he pulled his arm off of its nightly home on her waist. He had turned over his shoulder to look at her from the door before he left. One final good, long look. It was funny. Coriolanus never took the time to look back at her. [Y/N] snapped her eyes shut when Coriolanus rocked his weight back onto his heels. [Y/N] hoped he hadn’t seen her blush or fluttering eyelashes. [Y/N] got so excited at the simplest gesture from him. If she were a less careful woman, she may have almost smiled.

He looked at me.

The brief joy was gone with Coriolanus and he was now long gone. [Y/N] finally rolled over to step out of the bed. Her new silk white nightgown alluded to her future that evening. [Y/N] sighed. Her hand crunched against something paper beside her. Coriolanus must have left something. [Y/N] glanced to her right. A white rose from the vase he had requested on the bedside table, free of thorns. [Y/N] smirked. Of course. There was also a note in his curly, slanted script.

Darling,

Big day. It’s likely the next time I see you will be at the alter. Remember, you have nothing to be nervous about. I’ve got you.

And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. You’ve got dancing to do.

C.B.S.

He was so good at baiting her into comfort that [Y/N] almost forgot it was baiting. She took at deep breath. I’ve got you. Coriolanus still had not seen the dress, but his educated guess about the corset was spot on. He was always spot on. He paid too close attention. It was shocking that Coriolanus could oscillate from obvious manipulation and intimidation to the man that cared for [Y/N]. Unless the second part was more elaborate manipulation too.

[Y/N] went to the bathroom to piss.

Dark spots on her neck and chest greeted her. They never really faded away. Coriolanus would find new places for them, or mark over the old ones. [Y/N] liked how they looked and certainly how they felt to receive. But what a pain they were to conceal! She should have known better and acquired a high-necked gown way back when. It was a winter wedding, so it wouldn’t have looked out of place.

The beauty parlor would be able to work some of that Capitol magic on them.

[Y/N] looked in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom with the pristine black tile and giant bathtub. She smiled vapidly. That was that. By the end of the day, she would officially be a wife. Her identity would be defined by Coriolanus.

Once, she smiled because her poor decisions would reflect boldly on Coriolanus. Now, [Y/N] worried because it was the other way around. She was a permanent extension of Coriolanus and his aspirations and desires the second she had his name.

She sighed. For better or worse.

[Y/N] crept down to the hotel lobby in large green sunglasses and a hotel robe. It was turquoise. It was a terrible color. Coriolanus would have hated it. She lost her purple sunglasses after the Flickerman interview. Coriolanus did like that. He hated those sunglasses too. The green ones were better to him. A small part of [Y/N] liked knowing that Coriolanus was pleased by what she wore.

She glanced around. No sight of Coriolanus. She didn’t want to break tradition. There was no more room for things going wrong in her life. Across the lobby, [Y/N] went towards the beauty parlor and the wedding shop. She had gone through so many catalogs of dresses and hairstyles and everything must be perfect, only for her to allow to be handled by beauticians who were strangers at the last minute.

Then the hands landed on her waist. [Y/N] gasped, readying herself to scream. The hands pulled her to firm chest and the hands turned into arms, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back beside a ficus and a fern.

She looked down and saw the hands. Pale white hands with rings and a loose bracelet.

Coriolanus Snow, rigid, but never one for following the rules.

“Coriolanus!” [Y/N] squeaked. “You’re not supposed to see me yet. Let go!”

“That’s a silly old story. Saw you this morning.” He whispered with a smirk, holding [Y/N] waist tight.

“It’s… yeah, but—“

“Thought I wasn’t supposed to see the dress. But you—“

“I don’t wanna ruin today—“

“Fine! Fine! Just let me look at you one more time and I’ll let you go,” Coriolanus said. He spun [Y/N] to face him easily. His eyes slid from her eyes through glasses, down her face, her neck, her breasts, back up to her neck. That’s where his eyes greedily stopped. His finger tickled the skin on the right side of her neck where he had left a dark bruise. [Y/N] laughed a little and slotted her face into his hand.

“No thanks to you, the ladies in the parlor will have to work harder on me today.” [Y/N] said, referencing the marks.

“Don’t cover them.” Coriolanus said simply.

“What?”

Coriolanus smiled softly. “Don’t cover them. You look very beautiful.”

“Yeah, didn’t know you had such a sense of humor, Coryo. Could’ve fooled me,” [Y/N] smirked. “It’s our wedding.”

“So?”

“So…” There was no good argument. [Y/N] had done much worse before. They both knew that. She huffed.

“Fine,” he conceded. “Do whatever you want. I’m just saying, if I had to take my shirt off for some reason tonight, my back looks three times worse than your neck.”

[Y/N] blushed. “Yeah, but you eliminated your argument by saying that. Because you are wearing a suit. I’m wearing a low-cut dress.”

Coriolanus gritted his teeth. He was going to say something harsh. He refrained. “So the dress is low-cut?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Fuck!” [Y/N] exclaimed. “No. No more. I’m going,” she tried to pull away from Coriolanus. “Let me go. I’m going. I’ve ruined it,” she jabbed a finger in his chest. “You cursed us. We’re cursed. That’s bad luck.”

“If anyone cursed us,” Coriolanus let go of her waist. “It was you, Darling.” He called as she walked away. [Y/N] shuddered as crossed her arms. He hadn’t meant it, had he? God, he loved it when he made her nervous.

—

[Y/N] had some bridesmaids. She did not love that she had to share the stage and the big fluffy dresses with the ladies, but here she was. Lysistrata was her Maid of Honor. She wanted it to be Clemensia, but Coriolanus said no.

After that, Clemensia refused to be in the wedding party at all. Too bad.

[Y/N] thought she looked good in her white snowy gown. Lovely even. But she was too nervous to focus on much of that beauty.

Everyone would nitpick her dress, her hair, her body, why she of all people was unbreakably becoming the Capitol’s darling’s Darling, among other things. The pressure was high. [Y/N] had not been able to make herself cry either, which was unusual for her. The woman wanted to claw at her skin and tear it off from the itching, nerves and impatience.

Would Coriolanus finally love her tomorrow? Or would he ignore her now that she was belted in permanently as his plaything. [Y/N] didn’t want to be used only when Coriolanus wanted. She would have bitten her nails if they weren’t so well-manicured.

[Y/N] inhaled. Her corset was too tight and she was so nervous. The breath came out ragged. It didn’t relieve her the way that a deep breath was supposed to. She thought back to Coriolanus’ note: And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. She hadn’t listened well enough. [Y/N] did not want him to be mad at her. She reached back with shaking hands to try and loosen it, but she couldn’t manage.

I’ve got you.

When she sat down on the bench in the hallway outside of the venue to wait for her father to walk her down the aisle, the pressure shift made the bottom half of her dress’ corset tightened more. The dress was stunning, it was a true. A ballgown, a favorite style of [Y/N]’s. It was indeed low-cut with a beaded white corset pressing her breasts higher. It didn’t make her feel whorish, but it helped her feel beautiful. Over that, she had a wintery long-sleeved translucent mesh top. It was white and was covered with speckles that looked like snow in the places where snow might catch as it sprinkled down. Her veil was less traditional and didn’t cover her face completely. [Y/N] felt freer in it, and Coriolanus wouldn’t have to wrestle with it. Under it, she wore the red heels she had worn at their engagement party. It was sentimental, but that night was one of the first actual lovely memories she had of Coriolanus. Was that memory meant to be lovely? [Y/N] was unsure. She decided she would remember it that way. If she didn’t, she would lose her mind at what she had done to herself.

I’ve got you.

Everything had to be lovely.

The wedding had to be lovely.

“[Y/N],” Her father said, approaching her in a loud colored tuxedo. Gaudy. Tacky. “Stand. Let me look at you,” He muttered, extending his arm to her. [Y/N] did as she was told like she was a child again. The man could barely look at her. They had spoken for the first time since their engagement party at the rehearsal dinner the day prior. Her father was pleased to leave the burden of his disappointment on another man. [Y/N] shifted and did a small spin for her father before taking his arm. She could hear the orchestra playing inside the venue along with the chatter. [Y/N]’s looming father reached behind her and grabbed the ties of her corset and pulled the ends tighter. Her breath hitched. “That’s better.” Her father said. Then, he proceeded to the door to finally give her away.

[Y/N]’s head swam. She had already been laced into the damn corset for what felt like too long but in reality had been a bit over an hour. She coped by taking shallow breaths from her chest and staring straight ahead, unblinking.

The doors parted. [Y/N] hadn’t even realized that had been pulled in front of the doors to the event hall itself. All white and red, like most winter weddings were meant to be, but white and red the way Coriolanus (and by extension [Y/N] now) liked. The bouquet, forgotten, was held straight and clutched tighter. [Y/N] lacquered her smile back on. Being in front of everyone she had ever known made her dizzy. Everyone she had ever known gasped and smiled in delight at her. The music changed. She walked. She wanted to puke. Eventually, she was at the alter. Her ribs ached. Her chest burned. [Y/N] smiled wider.

Coriolanus. His loose blonde curls were determinedly tamed, slicked behind his ears. His unruly hair never did what anyone commanded, so it was an impressive feat. Black tux, white bow tie, red rose; standard. His shoes were also red. Those were new. Did he think about her red shoes from that night often too? Had he snooped and seen her shoes in her tote bag last night even though she told him not to? It must have been his intuition. Best not to read into it. Coriolanus Snow liked red.

He also wore gloves. White and dapper. He looked so clean. Those gloves made sure not a trace of the cruelty he was capable of was visible. No trace left behind.

[Y/N]’s father deposited her in front of Coriolanus with an obligatory kiss to her forehead and walked away. She couldn’t recall walking to the alter. Her knees shook. Coriolanus was tall. Had he always been so tall?

Effortlessly, Coriolanus leaned forward and wrapped his hands behind her waist. [Y/N] thought he had just meant to place his hands on her too-narrow waist to greedily admire what he was capable of manipulating her body into. Instead, he loosened it.

I’ve got you.

What a beautiful scene that must have been. [Y/N] inhaled deeply through her nose as if she had risen from the dead. The world around her felt real again. Everything looked real. “Thank you.” She gasped.

Coriolanus kissed her forehead, much like her father had. Power shown as repetition and reversal of action. “I thought I told you not to cinch it so much.” He whispered softly. Coriolanus tipped her chin up with the fingers under his white leather glove. The pictures of that moment would later be so beautiful.

“I didn’t.”

“Somebody did, Darling… Silly. These are pretty, though.” Coriolanus whispered away from prying microphones. He dragged his finger across her neck, meaning some of the marks she had left uncovered on a stupid whim that was about to share a last name with her, but showcasing her pearl necklace instead.

“For you,” [Y/N] panted back sarcastically. “Can we get on with it?”

“Romantic.” Coriolanus scoffed and leaned away from [Y/N]’s ear. His shoulders unrolled to their full and staggering height, beautiful beast that he was. Coriolanus took [Y/N]’s hand that did not hold a bouquet of red roses in his. She swore she had imagined the circle Coriolanus has ghosted over the back of her hand.

The officiant of the wedding was beckoning everyone to sit. [Y/N] hadn’t realized the attendees had been standing. The officiant wore black as well. He was disgracefully old. [Y/N] looked out the massive picture window over Coriolanus’ shoulder. There was snow outside, too.

The old, frail man cleared his throat and held his arms open to the congregation. “A true lasting marriage requires effort, commitment, and unending understanding. As [Y/N] and Coriolanus declare their partnership on this day, we reflect on the meaning of partnership and its importance to a successful union. Partners, in life, think of one another as capable, but each arriving with their own special skills.” At these words, [Y/N] scoffed. She wondered if Coriolanus thought her capable. Coriolanus stared down at her. No love. No hatred either. He looked at her stoically. She wanted him to look down at her with something. Usually, he did. She wanted an iota of anything.

What happened to I’ve got you.

“Marriage is rarely equal. In marriage, you will often be required to honor commitments you cannot fully understand. The mark of a successful marriage is that you meet these commitments with patience, honesty, and love—even as you fail.

“Over time, you will realize that the burdens placed upon you by life are not loads to be carried—they are opportunities. Each day is an opportunity to be shared with your partner; the dawn of each day brings new experiences.”

[Y/N] felt like vomiting. This was burdensome. Not a burden, a weight. Would Coriolanus help her lift it? Or would he leave her to roll the boulder up the hill each morning on her own? He promised that he would; that he had her back, that he would help, that she would never be left to struggle alone again.

“Your rings and your vows, please.” The old man sputtered. Coriolanus removed his gloves to tuck into his pocket and exposed his beautiful hands. [Y/N] wondered if he had ever played piano. Likely not. He did not own a piano. His hands indicated that he would have been natural to it.

He procured two white gold rings from his breast pocket. One thicker for his own large hand, one daintier with three very small rubies to go with the massive ruby in the daintier still engagement ring. Coriolanus passed her the one meant for his finger.

Now came the part that had [Y/N] worried. Both the words themselves and the memorization of such words. Coriolanus was to begin. Naturally.

Coriolanus inhaled deeply. His chest jumped under his white tie. [Y/N] nearly guessed he was nervous. How could a creature like that get nervous? “I, Coriolanus Snow, take thee, [Y/N] [L/N], to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” He spoke deceptively calmly. His voice boomed with an authoritarian edge. He had a completely different voice in public than he did in their bedroom. After the words were passed his lips, he smiled. Finally. Finally, he attempted to reveal a feeling. He slid the ring down her left ring finger to its final resting place.

“I, [Y/N] [L/N], take thee, Coriolanus Snow, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey,” the word that had made her so nervous. Once she said it, everything felt much lighter. The hardest part was over. [Y/N] took that last step to give herself to Coriolanus. He had everything of hers, and now he had her ring finger too. She felt she had rushed the beginning of this vow, so she took her time with the little that remained. “Till death us do part.” [Y/N] concluded as a wife. She pressed his ring onto his ring finger. Slow. Coriolanus couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

[Y/N] dragged her eyes from the hand that dried her tears and gripped her throat, to the eyes that hungered for every morsel of her. [Y/N] handed her bouquet to the woman, whichever one stood closest behind her, and clasped both of her hands against Coriolanus’, like she was supposed to. She would be the best at doing what she was supposed to. From this day forward, [Y/N] would find that she was capable at something and do it effortlessly for Coriolanus. There was no other option.

Lastly, the Capitol’s undying wedding tradition. Handfasting. The officiant spoke again with clinical and precise rhythm. “Handfasting is an old and venerable tradition that dates back more than ten thousand years. As I wrap this ribbon around your hands, I want you to think about what you think marriage means.” The traditional narrow red ribbon cinched together their palms like a corset.

Marriage was… what, a partnership? A trap, a cage… [Y/N] thought back to the beginning of the ceremony. A burden? No. An… Opportunity. Coriolanus Snow was an opportunity. He took a chance with her and her bullshit everyday. She did the same. Everyday would be an opportunity that she would take at all costs. [Y/N] would make it work.

I’ve got you.

“Marriage will deepen your commitment to one another and strengthen the respect and support you each bring to your relationship.

“Your challenge is to grow with one another, to offer each other compassion and understanding, and to take each new challenge and adventure as it comes as a team. With each wrap of the ribbon, I give my blessing as an officiant that your marriage will be so. Let this bond be strong. Let this bond be eternal. I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

As the pair’s hands were cinched even nearer together, [Y/N]’s eyes caught Coriolanus’ in prolonged eye contact. They both looked light. Relieved. It was over. The hard part was over. She swore she even saw Coriolanus smile— not smirk.

“Mr. Snow, you may now kiss your bride.”

Coriolanus did not waste even a second. He tipped his bound hands up and used the force of the action to pull [Y/N] to him. Their lips met in a searing, stinging kiss. Coriolanus pressed down against her, [Y/N] neck strained from turning her head up.

—

Everything was a blur. There was the dance floor, the drinks Coriolanus kept bringing, the hand locked on [Y/N]’s waist. The delicious cake. [Y/N] had smashed a forkful into Coriolanus’ pristine pale face. He had looked both surprised and upset, but he didn’t say anything like the good husband he was becoming. Plus he got the opportunity to get [Y/N] back and do twice the damage. He did this swiftly. Everyday in a marriage was an opportunity. Or something.

[Y/N] had been introduced to many important people Coriolanus worked with but he kept her too drunk and dumb to do much more than nod and keep her up arm protectively glued to Coriolanus’ arm. Especially around some of the prettier woman. She hated seeing his white teeth flash at those other woman. How could they smile like that at him with his wife in her gown right there?

[Y/N] stumbled to the bar for a whisky sour. While she waited on the bartender to mix her drink, she glanced through the bright flashing lights at her husband. The fair-haired man was sitting at their table, chatting with one of his University ‘friends’ that had stopped by to wish them well. [Y/N] glanced back at the bartender.

“Congrats.” The bartender said. [Y/N] squinted at his name tag but barely registered what it said.

“Thank you.” She replied, folding her hands on the bar.

“Some wedding. Very beautiful. You look very beautiful. That’s a hell of a dress, too. Is it hard to move in?”

“No, not really.” [Y/N] smiled slightly.

“Your husband’s been back and forth the the bar a ton. He pretty drunk by now?” Bold. Why had the bartender asked that?

[Y/N] her head. “Most of those were for me. So. How about that whisky sour, hm?” She said, her smile getting tighter and tighter-lipped.

“A man like that would make me wanna drink too.”

[Y/N] had spent much of her relationship with Coriolanus feeling that way, but hearing it from someone else made her upset. She did not like hearing anyone say a damn word about him. Only she was allowed to be upset about Coriolanus. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Excuse me?”

“He’s… He’s tough, no? Cold. Hard exterior. Guys like that freak me out. You seem very different from him. I mean, fuck. Look what he did to your neck. You let him do that? He make you do that?” He shrugged too casually. The stranger was taking much too long to mix a whisky sour. It was an easy drink. How many had he already unknowingly made for her tonight?

“Different maybe,” she started. “But he doesn’t freak me out at all. He doesn’t… Make me do things I don’t want to,” Lie. Not right now, but sometimes, lie. “You don’t know him.”

“Sure, sure, I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“Odd topic choice.”

“Is it?” The man smiled. “I’ve been to enough of these weddings to know that girls like you rarely fall for men like him. Usually, there’s some crying bride at the bar because her parents said they would disown her if she didn’t marry some guy like your blondie over there. You’re keeping it together fairly well, doll.”

“Make the damn drink.” [Y/N] replied.

“Jeez, lady. Just trying to—“

“I think the lady told you to make the damn drink,” Came Coriolanus’ voice and his arm squeezing squeezing like a vice around her waist. She didn’t know how much more that waist could take. “Darling, is this man bothering you?” He asked quietly.

If she said yes, the bartender’s tongue would be cut out, or worse. The young man didn’t know; he had been trying to be nice. But it felt so good when Coriolanus came to her rescue and she had to practice positive reinforcement every now and then.

[Y/N] decided she would do her favorite thing: cry. Coriolanus couldn’t ever ignore her tears. [Y/N] knew her husband loved to fix a bird with a broken wing like herself. She sniffled and blinked a few times, staring dead at the bartender, before the tears started to fall.

“Yes. He is bothering me.” She said. The bartender looked appalled at the psychotic display. Clearly, he had misread her situation. [Y/N] knew she was capable of being nearly as rotten as Coriolanus. This man standing in front of her was about to face the consequences of assumptions. [Y/N] looked up at Coriolanus and placed a hand on his chest. He understood exactly what she wanted. Causing their first scene as a married couple. Milestone.

Coriolanus tightened his grip on her. “Look,” Coriolanus squinted at the bartender’s name tag. “Brutus. Hm. Brutus, do you know what that name means?” He condescended.

“Strong.” The bartender replied, putting his shaker down cautiously.

“Really? Well, I suppose it could contextually. Though, I was under the impression it meant dull,” Coriolanus scoffed. “What have you done, Brutus, to upset my wife so much?” He said Brutus as if he were saying dull.

“N-nothing. Just making conversation.”

Coriolanus smirked and [Y/N]’s grin echoed his, but her teeth were straighter. They both liked it when they had someone uncomfortable enough to stumble over their words. “Just making conversation? Did he touch you, dear?” Coriolanus asked. The punishment for touching her would be losing a hand or two. The fellow made a decent drink. She didn’t want him to lose that gift.

[Y/N] sniffled, tugging at Coriolanus’ heartstrings. “No,” sniffle. “He was only running his mouth. He thinks I sh-shouldn’t have married you.”

Coriolanus dragged his blue eyes between [Y/N] and Brutus. “Why shouldn’t we be married?” Coriolanus asked too easily. It was a trap. Brutus shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. “No, please, go ahead. I’m just making conversation. What was it that you said to my wife, here? I’m curious now.”

There was silence. Brutus hung his head uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Sir. [Y/N] knew Coriolanus would like that.

“Jealous? Think you could please my wife better than I could? Am I on the right track?” Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips against weeping [Y/N]’s neck from behind as he spoke to Brutus.

Drunk and dumb from the stress, the alcohol and his touch, [Y/N] reached her hand up to tangle it into Coriolanus’s curls. He didn’t protest for once. Her fingers cut through his hair product and lodged in place, giving his hair a gentle tug. “How’s this for you?” Coriolanus murmured, staring at Brutus and touching [Y/N] disgustingly.

[Y/N] wasn’t sure if it lasted minutes or hours, staring the bartender down like that. Coriolanus pulled her into the lobby and up the stairs to their hotel room. She couldn’t remember exactly if Coriolanus had made the two of them say a proper goodnight to the remaining party attendees. She still had her shoes on, so she would settle for being impressed with herself for that.

Coriolanus unlocked the door to their room and propped it open with some difficulty.

“What are you doing?” She asked tiredly.

“Well, Mrs. Snow, you went on about so many little traditions this week, so I figured I would gift you this.” Coriolanus scooped [Y/N] clumsily into his arms and carried her over the threshold of the room. [Y/N] smiled at his gesture.

Coriolanus walked with her in his grasp until he set her down on the bed with a muted thump. He turned back to the door and closed it. [Y/N] stared up at Coriolanus as he returned. The jacket of his tux and his red shoes had vanished on his walk back.

[Y/N] was quite surprised that Coriolanus had remained in what seemed to be such a decent mood for him all day. The smile or smirk or snarl still lingered on his plush mouth. “Hi.” [Y/N] said.

“Hello,” Coriolanus replied, cocking his head. “That dress really is something else,” he said. His eyes wandered grotesquely over her body. “What did your family think?”

“Barely saw my mother. She was at the bottom of a bottle of posca. Father thought my corset was too loose.” She wiped the remaining wet spots from tears off of her cheeks.

Coriolanus nodded knowingly. “Ah, so you can follow instructions. It was him that locked you in that thing…” his eyes hadn’t moved from her breasts which threatened to spill from her top from laying at this angle. “May I help you out of it?”

She blushed red. “The note you left…” [Y/N] started. “Sweet, by the way. How did you know it was corseted. Did you peek?” She slurred.

“Lucky guess,” Coriolanus said too quickly for the remark to be truthful. “Do me a favor and obey your husband. Turn over. I want it off.”

[Y/N] popped off her memorable red heels and rolled gracelessly onto her stomach so that Coriolanus could undress her how he liked. He crept onto the bed and straddled her thighs with some difficulty from the dress’ bulk. His fingers got to work with the silk cord. [Y/N]’s ability to take low, full breaths increased with each movement of his nimble fingers. “Coryo, what’ll happen to that man from the bar…” [Y/N] quietly.

“That’s none of your concern. He’ll be dealt with for the way he spoke to you, don’t worry,” Coriolanus said, undoing the buttons of her dress now. “No one’s going to get away with speaking to my wife like that. Not now, not ever,” My wife, not you. Because he loved her and they were eternally bound. Or because she was an extension of his existence— nobody talked to him like that. Coriolanus manipulated her body like a doll to get her out of her wedding dress until she was down to her snow white lingerie and garters. “Fuck.” He said at the sight with eyes as wide as saucers.

“It’s adequate?”

“More than adequate,” In an instant, Coriolanus was on her. He was unclipping her garters and pulling her dampened lacy panties down. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mrs. Snow.”

“Fuck me. Please. Really. Not just fingers, or something.”

“Hm,” Coriolanus started. “I should marry you more often.”

Coriolanus pulled off his own trousers and boxers without complaint. [Y/N] sighed happily. “Tell me you love me.” She said.

“What?”

“I don’t care if you don’t mean it. Tell me you love me.” She stressed. [Y/N] wanted the silhouette of a normal wedding night even if it wasn’t one.

Coriolanus said his I love yous while he expertly rubbed [Y/N] clit, who cares if he was sincere or not. Neither one of them knew if he was sincere or not and either would do well enough.

The sex, however, was anything but transactional.

By the look of it, Coriolanus had long been hard in his pants. [Y/N] knew exerting some sort of power over that man at the bar in her honor would have gotten him all riled up. After noticing [Y/N] was already shockingly wet, he pressed his hands into the pillows beside her head and pushed his cock into her easily. “Damn. You’re so wet,” he grunted. Coriolanus scrunched his blue eyes shut. He began to set a pace; much slower than he normally would, less brutal too. He was gentle. Almost. Completely gentle was not a setting he came equipped with.

Coriolanus had never fucked [Y/N] without protection before (that [Y/N] could remember, at least). She made no move to stop him. They didn’t have any barriers left to worry about since they were married. Both silently agreed to never go back. He felt so much better in her this way.

[Y/N] moaned when his right hand moved between them to keep stimulating her. “Good, that’s good,” She said, reaching up to grip his shoulders. Her hands crept further up to grab his hair. She loved his hair, even if he fought hard against her about it so often. “Is this good for you?” [Y/N] whispered.

Coriolanus snapped his icy eyes open and plunged his head into her cleavage in reply. The lacy bra she wore was in his way, even if he thought it did [Y/N] beautiful favors. With one hand and his teeth, he ripped the bra right down the middle. “Better now,” he smirked darkly. Coriolanus slid one of her nipples past his lips. Coriolanus could conduct her moans and pants like a symphony. He knew exactly how to get his most desire response out of her. Coriolanus fucked and rubbed faster, but resisted sliding a hand around her throat and squeezing. At least for the first round as a married couple.

She could get used to the soft way he touched her. Mr. and Mrs. Snow. This caring front felt like it could almost last forever to [Y/N]. Too bad it was a front. She let out a high breathy gasp. The sound she knew he liked best.

Coriolanus was glad they had no plans tomorrow. One more sound like that and his hand would have no choice but to squeeze around her windpipe. She was always so beautiful like that. He changed his mind from weeks before as he looked at her from sucking at her nipples.

This is how he wanted to remember his Mrs. Snow. Makeup dripping, moaning beyond control, eyes rolled back and ripped and fucked out of her dress and lingerie. Because only he could make her feel like that for the rest of her life.

“I love you.” [Y/N] breathed, but she didn’t mean it, not really.

“I love you too.”

It was almost the truth.

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst @spencereidbasis @a-mellifluous-life @daenerysqueenofhearts @heavqn @dangelnleif @lapisthelovely @wotcherpeak @24kmar @kaealowri @weeeoosworld @dilucpegg3r @bai-wuxiangs-mask @kisstheskin

as always, apologies for the tags that did not work. love you all.

[moronkombat]

can you write headcannons on marriage proposals from the Lin Kuei trio? How nervous do you think they would be? Lol

Kuai Liang:

He knew for awhile now that he has wanted to marry, to have you and him be intertwined in the most sacred of promises

The devotion carried for you has climbed steady and smooth and how he wishes to seal it together but he wants it to be at the right time

Problem with that is he unsure when that special time is. Should it be where you two first met? Should it be when the two of you have your morning conversations?

His mind spins and spins about the hows and wheres. He is not too concerned with your answer. The love that flows through the two of you thick and heavy

The nerves that shake his spine are how to make the proposal memorable and meaningful. How can it possibly convey all this love for you?

This the primary reason why it take him quite a bit of time to offer his life to you. The idea has been there, ruminating and ruminating but his execution forever changing

Kuai Liang would settle for somewhere that is known just to you and him. A private place that you two escape to when you only wish to know each other and forget about the entire world

The proposal is done without rings or bands of gold. He takes you hands into his before slowly your fingers spread apart to match and rest against his

A smile so soft his upon him and he speaks of his love for you, how much you mean to him and how long he has wanted to say this

He says to you then "I would be a lucky man if you were to marry me" and your future together is now set

Tomas:

His thoughts of marrying you have been shared with his brothers as Tomas wants them to know his upcoming intentions along with hoping to find some encouragement

Kuai Liang affirms his decision, tell Tomas that he would be a good husband and that the two of you would be happy together. Bi-Han tells him "It sounds like your mind is already set. You don't need our opinions. Go and do it"

He wants to just go and do it as Bi-Han said but there are nerves tingling all throughout him. What if you say no? What if this is too much? Tomas does not wish to suffocate you

So then why has he already bought the ring? It a simple wedding band, one he purchased out of tradition. There are scattered memories of his mother's wedding ring but the image of it is unclear

Tomas brings the ring with him wherever he goes, taking time to gaze upon it during moments of free time. Should he ask? Should he not?

It is an accident that you happened upon the ring. You catch him, his back turned to you and hunched over, and you figure he must be looking upon something

You ask him to show you but he is quick, too quick to say it is nothing and so you persist and as you try to see, peering over him and pulling at him playfully, the ring is dropped

It is you hand that picks it up despite his attempt to stop you and when you look at the ring, you know what it is and slowly you place it in his palm

Then slowly, you hold you your hand to him, your ring finger elevated slightly and Tomas smiles with a small and sheepish nod before sliding it on your finger

Bi-Han:

Tells no one of his plans to marry you, keeping it exceptionally obscured. Though there have already been rumors about it

You have taught him how to love pure and true. You are at his thoughts when he awakes and rests. You mean absolutely everything to him and so he wants to bind your souls together

Problem is he is quite at a loss of how to go about such a task. Does he ask you directly? Does he plan something?

A full on occasion seems...gaudy. Would it not take away from the moment? Yet to merely ask is...dull?

And what of your answer? Is this what you truly want or is he selfish as so many of called him before?

Bi-Han isn't sure and that frustrates him, irritates him. He tries to drop hints to gauge your feelings towards marriage but they often come out as awkward and he is getting nowhere

He'll toss and turn obsessing over this idea of matrimony and suddenly he is beginning to lose sleep over it and it doesn't go unnoticed

Bi-Han is considerably more irritable around his subordinates but never with you but you can't help but take notice in his stress

Over the course of many months, Bi-Han juggles the idea of prosing to you. He looks quite scary when he thinks about his choices. Brows knit close together, eyes narrowed and foot tapping incessantly

He can take no more of this and so he approaches you when you in the middle of a task. He says your name, takes in a deep breath and tells you "I am Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei and it is my duty to lead but...I am also a man. A man who wants you by his side for the rest of my days and so I ask you will you marry me?"

You're stunned, shocked and whatever you had been holding in your hand has gone dropped to the floor. Once the shock has left you smile to him and tell him "Okay"

[five-miles-over]

Tom Hiddleston Characters: How They Would Propose (To You)

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or images. This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!)

Characters in this list: Will Ransome, King Henry V, Prince Loki Odinson, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, Bill Hazeldine, Coriolanus, Jonathan Pine, Robert Laing, Magnus Martinsson, Oakley, Thomas Sharpe, James Conrad, and Jaguar Villain! Tom Hiddleston.

Also, my sincerest apologies - they all turned into mini-fics.

Will Ransome from The Essex Serpent

Reverend Will would propose to you after a Sunday roast dinner, after your family invited him to your home. You were helping to clear the table with the rest of the ladies in your family when Will coughed to announce his presence. At once, everyone cleared the dining room, leaving you alone with the vicar.

"A word please?" He politely called you by name, his hands clasped in front of him. Will sat you down in one of the empty chairs. Gods how he wanted to reach out and tuck one of your stray hairs behind your ear in that very moment, one of the intimate things that he longed to do with you. Intimate things that would be proper in the eyes of God if you were his lawfully wedded wife. He did not sit down, and gently began talking to you. "For some time, I have been charmed by you. Not just your looks, that is not to say that you are not a lovely woman. You are most lovely, but I have also been charmed by your kindness, your humility, and your…virtue."

Will knelt before you, looking up with the most earnest gaze. "If you will bestow upon me the fortune of being your husband, then in return I shall do everything to keep you safe and comfortable.  I shall speak to your father, and we will be wedded in holy matrimony. You and I shall walk together upon this path of life, and I have no doubt that a virtuous woman like you will aid me in carrying out what the Lord decrees of us. My sweetest, please say that you will marry me."

Henry V from The Hollow Crown

With Henry, there was not much of a proposal to begin with. The marriage between you and the King of England was arranged by your father and his men, along with the king and his men. Still, Henry coaxed your father into having at least one private audience with you before the wedding ceremonies, so that he may properly court you as any suitor would. 

'My dearest lady," Henry began as soon as he was alone with you in his study while your father and his men stood vigil outside. "Lower thy veil, and let me behold your face." He reached forward and removed the hood of your cloak, smiling as he beheld your beauty for the first time. "Cheeks rosier than the flowers that bloom in springtime. Your lips and eyes are so enticing, they call to me like sirens. Yours is a face that I shall never tire of seeing.

I confess to you, my lady, that words are not my greatest strength. Were it so easy that I could simply strap on armor or fire an arrow into a target or vault into my saddle for a wife, I should quickly vault for a wife. Alas, tis not so. For a woman's heart is truly one of the most difficult conquests to embark upon. Nevertheless, tis a conquest that I shall duly pursue if you can deign to love me.

If you can love such a man as me, someone whose words are not their strongest suit and someone whose fidelity to you is true, then take me. Take a soldier, and in taking a soldier, you will take a king." Henry knelt before you and offered you his hand. "Sweetest of all maidens, canst thou love me?"

Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard

"I have called you to discuss a matter of great importance, my lady." Loki enunciated the formal title at the end in an attempt to conceal the butterflies in his stomach. He summoned you to the palace gardens at the house before twilight, when the sky would be decorated with streaks of orange and pink. You walked alongside him through the bushes and the groves of flowers. Loki clasped his hands behind her back, walking as if he ruled every inch of earth on which he stepped. 

He continued, "Yes, tis true that Thor, my brother, is the one whom my father has decreed to ascend the throne of Asgard," The younger prince of Asgard looked forward with a solemn expression while you listened with intrigue. "But he is incompetent." Loki turned to you. "He is idiotic and brash. You know as well as I do that he does not encompass the values of a king.

"Was he not the one who wished to invade Jotunheim alone, my prince?" You stopped in your tracks, just as the sun began setting into the horizon behind you.

"Yes, he was. It was all his idea, my lady." Loki did not bother to include his role in instigating Thor, it would not help him in this moment whatsoever. If he delayed this moment any further, he was convinced the words would be stuck in his throat, forever unable to escape. "You are one of the few people with whom I can share these thoughts, my lady." He sighed, his gaze fixated upon you and your beauty. "It is why I have called you here. In the coming future, I will need to protect Asgard from my brother's foolishness. And for that I should like to have a worthy companion by my side."

Loki conjured a shining dagger with a gold hilt out of thin air and promptly fell to one knee before you. The hilt of the dagger was engraved with the words, 'Min hærr, duonningen av mitt hjerte' (My beloved, Queen of my heart) Still on bended knee, Loki looked up at you with an expression of innocence that you never knew existed within him - wide eyes, baited breath, a meek expression. As if all his life were being wagered on a single thing right now. 

"I wish to make you my wife," Loki declared, his lips trembling. "Should you accept, I will bring my proposal to your family, and then we will be wed with due ceremony. And if you decide otherwise, then I shall…" he swallowed, "I shall respect your choice."

Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

"This looks like something stolen from the Graham Norton Show." You raised an eyebrow when Loki handed you an orange and purple card.

"It's a scavenger hunt." Loki said with a twinkle in his eye. "Every clue leads you to the next one."

"I know how a scavenger hunt works, Loki." You rolled your eyes and flipped over the card. "Was this your idea, or is this some ridiculous team-bonding activity put together by Steve Rogers?"

"No. You see,…I have some errands to do, but at the same time, I have an obligatory excursion with the Lady Valkyrie."

You crossed your arms. "So why the scavenger hunt?"

Loki brightly answered. "Well, it makes the errands all the more fun!"

"Alright, but you owe me, Loki." 

"Good girl." The God of Mischief kissed you not the cheek and disappeared into thin air.

You glanced down and saw that the first card, which told you to pick up six cupcakes ordered under Loki's name. The cupcakes were from a specific café….that just so happened to be the place where you and Loki had your first date, which was set up by a far-too-enthusiastic Thor. The moment you got there, a waiter brought you a "complimentary" cupcake of your favorite flavor…along with another orange and purple card. 

The second card took you to the library, on the pretext of picking up a book that was on hold for Loki. There, the librarian handed you the book - Divine Comedy by Dante - and another book that you recognized. It was Pride and Prejudice, one of the first pieces of "Midgardian literature" that you introduced to Loki, a book that you were all too happy to fangirl over. But inside the book was - yes- another orange and purple card. 

The third card sent you to pick up Loki's dry-cleaning. (Really, Loki? Dry cleaning?) At the dry-cleaners, the person at the register handed you a transparent garment bag containing a black tuxedo with a ruffled white shirt. And then you were given a second garment bag with an emerald green gown embellished with diamonds. You couldn't help but stare a few moments at the pretty, expensive-looking gown. Before the person at the register could hand you another card, you made a mental note to ask Loki about the gown and whom it was for. You guessed it was probably for himself for the times he was feeling fabulous. Actually, Loki also liked to wear absolutely nothing when he was feeling his most fabulous…but that didn't matter right now.

The fourth card took you to the park where Loki confessed his love for you for the first time, on the pretext of picking up Loki's forgotten jacket and buying a bouquet of white flowers.

The fifth card took you across the city just to get a particular bottle of liquor that Loki had liked. Okay, now this guy was having a little too much fun with you right now. 

You were relieved when the sixth card, given to you by the liquor store clerk, led you back to the Avengers compound, to the same room where you began this entire scavenger hunt. You huffed a little, setting the box of cupcakes, the books, the two garment bags, Loki's jacket, the flowers, and liquor gently on a table. "Loki? Loki, where are you?"

Loki stood in the middle of the Avengers' common room, wearing polished gold armor over a black and green leather tunic with long, dark trousers. His hair was combed perfectly in place, and his hands clasped behind his back. He stood surrounded by a few candles and fairy lights hanging against the curtains.

"Okay, I need answers…" You sighed, already tired from running around all afternoon. "Loki, I got your things, just tell me what the gown is for and the…the liquor and the…Are you throwing a party or something?"

"I'm getting married."

"What?!" You gulped, reaching for the nearest couch. "I…what? You're getting married, why didn't you tell me? And…" You felt your head start to spin, preparing yourself for the worst. Whatever happened to all the times he said he loved you? Was he just using you to put together some kind of romantic gesture for someone else, just a tool?! Perhaps this is what you get for letting the God of Mischief into your life. Betrayal. "Well, I hope they make you happy, Loki." You relented, putting your head in your hands.

"She does." 

"Good." You murmured, trying your best not to cry in this moment. That was the last thing you wanted him to see. "Is that gown for her too?"

"Hm-hm. Of course, it'll probably end up on the floor after the engagement party, hehe."

"Loki, I am in no mood for your jokes right now." After a few moments, you looked up. 

"Come on,…have a sense of humor."

"NO!" You yelled, getting up from the couch. "No, I will not have a sense of humor right now! You used me! You used me, and lied to me. You told me to do all of these errands, like picking up dry cleaning, and buying liquor, without telling me that you were going to propose to someone else! You could have at least told me, just so I'd have some kind of closure. But no, you couldn't even think to do that. You told me it was a scavenger hunt, like I wasn't worth knowing the truth.

I...I did this because I care about you, Loki! I care about you like some kind of idiot who actually thought that you might like me the same way that I liked you. That right there, making me like you might just be the worst thing you have ever done me." You took a moment to breathe, and ran your hands through your hair. 

"Ugh…And you made me even pick up her engagement dress! What kind of person makes someone do that?!" You couldn't even think about the words you were spitting out, too busy with the hot tears clouding your vision. 

"The kind of person who knows how good it'll look when you wear it."

"What?!" You were taken aback all of a sudden. 

Loki approached you with a hint of nervousness. "Darling, you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know I'm not easy to be with, that I drive you mad sometimes, and I make you put up with a lot. I...I should've practiced this more." He laughed under his breath. "Why didn't I?" Blinking, he pushed his hair back before continuing. 

"What I'm trying to say is,...my life has never been the same since I met you. You're the most steadfast ally, a wonderful friend, and best of all, you are the most passionate and loyal person I have ever known. I could never imagine my life without you, and I never want to. That's how much I love you."

The God of Mischief fell to one knee, and held up a small emerald ring with a gold band.

"Will you marry me?"

Bil Hazeldine from Suburban Shootout

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, sweetheart." Bill pulled his father's car into a driveway, and took your hand. "Just close your eyes, alright?"

"Alright…" After a few steps, you could hear Bill opening a door and the sound of a shopkeeper's bell, along with the muted conversations of various patrons. The scents of vanilla and grease reached you almost immediately. 

Bill held you close and whispered that you could open your eyes now.

When you opened your eyes, you laughed a little. "We haven't been here in a while…"

"You remember it?"

"How could I ever forget?" You kissed him on the cheek, and let him find a table for you. 

Bill's proposal began with him taking you to the milkshake diner where the two of you had your first date. After a bit of small talk over a banana split, Bill not-so-discretely excused himself. While you sat at the table with your spoon and checked your phone, Bill made his way to the jukebox with his hands in his jeans' pockets, feeling the small box inside. He'd almost thought about wearing a suit for this occasion, but his mum said it would make you suspicious. And his father suggested hiding the ring inside your ice cream to be more romantic , but Bill was terrified by the idea of you accidentally choking. Yes, keeping the ring with him was a better idea.

Bill took a deep breath and slipped a coin into the jukebox, flipping through the various tracks to find one of the songs you enjoyed. When he found one, he pressed play and called your name. Bill extended his hand out, offering to dance with you. He twirled you, and the two of you swayed in time with the music, smiling all the while. At the end of the song, Bill proudly kissed you on the lips.

He gently said your name, and pushed a bit of hair out of your face. "You're the one I want to dance with to every song…There's just no one like you, no one I could ever dream of that's just as wonderful as you are." Bill reached in his pocket for the small box, and fell to one knee, not caring who might be watching you in the diner. Inside the small box was a 0.3-carat diamond ring with a silver band. "Would you make me the happiest man in the whole world, and marry me?"

Caius Martius Coriolanus from Coriolanus

Coriolanus invited your family to dine with him and his mother one night on the pretext of an important matter concerning two important families of Roman nobility. It was not the first time he'd done such a thing, inviting your family to break bread with him and his mother. He had even visited your father's home before, sharing wine with your father and your brothers from time to time. It was through those meetings that Coriolanus fell more in love with your smile, the way you bit your lip when you were thinking,…and even the way your laugh infected him like a plague. And if there was anything more deadly to him than your simple, unadulterated laughter, then it was your beauty which had him fighting the urge to smile whenever you walked into a room or whenever he heard your voice.

But despite his best efforts, it became quickly aware to everyone in your family how besotted the general was with you. The way his head unintentionally bowed whenever he was in your presence, as if you were the sun and he would go blind if he looked you straight in the eye, never went unnoticed. The fact that you were the only person who could make him laugh, and that the simple mention of your name was enough to make the powerful General and conqueror of Corioles lower his usual barking voice made your family - and anyone else in the general's presence - giggle under their breath.

So when everyone had finished the prima mensa, Coriolanus stood up and raised his cup. "I have called you here tonight, to make a proposition," he declares with the same voice that he would use to speak to the Senate. "An alliance between our families…" The general turned his gaze to you for a moment, and exhaled to calm his racing heart, which only quickened when you looked back up at him. "If you will bestow upon me this honor, I wish to make your daughter…my wife. She is virtuous, and kind,…endowed with a noble background."

He waved for two of the servants of his household to present your mother and father with gifts of imported silk and valuable coins. And for you, the general had his servant gift place a set of golden jewelry - a girdle, five bracelets, and a layered necklace with rubies - in your lap. Underneath the girdle was a small piece of parchment with the words,

"I long to see you wearing these on our wedding night, my lady. Only these."

You turned red, and looked up and the general, politely expressing your thanks. 

"Should you accept," Coriolanus gave you a nod and turned to your family. "We shall make our alliance official in the presence of the gods. Your daughter shall be my wife, and I her husband. I will defend her from harm and protect her, as I have defended Rome time and time again. Your daughter will be cared for, and all I ask for in return, is your fidelity. Pledge to me your allegiance, for I shall need your influence when the time comes for the elections in the Senate.

Instead of a dowry give me your loyalty, and I swear that your priceless gem of a daughter will want for nothing for as long as I live. Do I have your word?"

Oakley from Unrelated

"Let's get married." Oakley off-handedly said while the two of you stood outside, leaning against the wall while he smoked a cigarette. 

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding?"

"No." He took another drag of his cigarette and turned to you with his ocean blue eyes and tousled, dirty blond curls. "We should get married."

"Who are you and what have you done with Oakley?" 

"What, you don't think I'm good enough to marry you?" He protested. 

Shaking your head, you laughed. "No, it's not that…"

"Well, then what is it?" Oakley crossed his arms and furrowed his brow at the sight of you laughing. "We have fun together, we make each other laugh,…we look good together, especially when naked-"

That was enough for you to playfully hit him on the shoulder, causing him to chuckle. He continued, "We like each other. We have this great relationship."

"But are you sure this is what you want?" You asked. "Don't you want to explore, try things? Do stuff before you're tied down?"

"Why would I do that? When there's this…beautiful, funny, smart, and sexy girl right there with me, I'm not even looking at anyone else." Oakley simply countered. "I like what we have, and i don't want to let it go. We can travel, explore the world, and I'll do it all with you." There was no sign of hesitation in his voice, but maybe it was just the cigarette fueling his courage. He came closer to you, and looked dead serious. "I don't want what we have to be just something we try for as long as we can, something we leave up to chance. I want forever with you."

"Forever?"

"Forever." Oakley knelt before you, his eyes going from a vivid cyan to a soft, almost pale bag blue. "I don't have a ring but…" He removed his necklace and presented it to you like an offering at an altar, calling your name. "Marry me."

Jonathan Pine from The Night Manager

Jonathan had been working with MI-6 for almost two years, embarking on various mission for them after he gained acclamation for helping to carry out Operation Limpet. He, along with officer Angela Burr, took down the infamous arms dealer Richard Roper once and for all.

Since then, Jonathan found himself a new home in London and got back in touch with you, the one who stole his heart back when he was still working as a night manager. He didn't know how much he truly missed you until you answered his letter, telling him about the twists and turns your life had taken since your last encounter with Pine. After about three weeks of exchanging handwritten letters - simply because they reminded you both of a simpler time and felt more personal - with Jonathan using a pseudonym to protect you, he invited you to visit London for a holiday. 

And those five days you spent in London were some of the best five days of Jonathan's life. He delighted in your innocence, the way you happily took his arm and strolled through the city, randomly surprising him with kisses. Arm in arm, without a care in the world except for each other, enjoying all that life would have to offer…This is how it should be, Jonathan thought to himself as he gazed at the sparkle in your eyes, the color in your cheeks. He listened as you talked about everything you liked about London, everything that disgusted you, and everything you hoped for in the future, simply taking in the opportunity to just be with you. 

After a few moments, you asked him about what he wanted in the future, and all Jonathan had to say was one word.

"You."

You looked up from your cup of tea. "Me?"

He took a breath. "Yes." Jonathan affectionately said your name, and reached for your hand. "I never grew up in a house with both parents, doting on me." He told you about how his life up until joining MI-6 was an abominable quest for order. How his time in the military and working in the hotel business was part of an aim to find a direction in his life, and how little happiness it truly brought him. How alone he felt whenever his life wasn't being threatened. 

Jonathan sighed, not used to telling so much about himself in a single conversation, laying his heart out on the table to be cut into and devoured. "I promised myself that I would find the one person that I could care deeply for, and love them. I promised myself that I would make friends, find a home…a place to belong. Maybe someday become a parent."

You looked upon him lovingly. "That's beautiful, Jonathan."

He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it. "I want all of those things, and I want them with you." Jonathan declared, quiet enough for the two of you to hear. "These past days with you have been…incredible. When I look at you, I see everything that I have wanted, the life that I want to be living five years from now, ten years from now." 

He continued, "You make me believe in a future that's worth building. The way you smile…, the way you look upon me and everyone with stars in your eyes…I want to be the one who keeps that smile on your face, the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who kisses you good night, and the first one you see in the morning. I want to be the one you come home to every evening, the shoulder you lean on." 

Jonathan stroked the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. "I know it's soon, but if there is anything that I've learned, it's that when you see something worth keeping in your life, you do everything you can not to let her go. You just do it." He looked into your eyes. "Marry me?"

James Conrad from Kong: Skull Island

It was the third time this week James had a nightmare. After thrashing and groaning, fighting an invisible beast, James found it in himself to call you - his neighbor whom he'd been dating for two years - on the telephone. His forehead and his chest were dripping with sweat, his expression one of agony, when you approached his bed. It was obvious that he had been in a lot of pain. 

James wasn't the type of person who wanted to expound upon the terrors he was feeling; he was a man of action who preferred expressing his emotions nonverbally. So, you respected that and simply talked about mundane things, things about civilian life that would temporarily distract James. As you both fell asleep, you made a mental note to remind James setting another appointment with his therapist, the one MONARCH had prescribed for him.

You woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't unusual for James to go out on an early morning walk to be alone with his thoughts. It was one of the things he'd learned from his therapist when he asked about how to be a better sweetheart to you while recovering from his trauma. You washed your face and brushed your teeth with a heavy heart, hoping it wouldn't be too long before you saw James again. 

While you styled your hair, you heard the door unlock. James walked inside, carrying a bag of breakfast pastries. "Good morning." He greeted you in a low, casual voice. 

"Good morning…" You would've asked if he slept well, but given the events of last night, that question made no sense. "I'm sorry I stayed over."

"No need to apologize." James set the pastries down and placed a kettle on the stove. While the water rose to a boil, James unwrapped the two chocolate croissants he bought, and glanced up to find you standing in the kitchen. You walked up to him slowly, and without missing a beat, James gently kissed you with an arm gently holding your waist. He murmured your name again, his breath warm against your lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." 

James gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead before going into his bedroom. "I brought breakfast for us both. Should I make us some eggs?"

"No need…" You watched James open one of his drawers. "Before I forget, do you want to make an appointment with your therapist?"

"Uh, I will." James returned to the kitchen with a small box in his right hand. "Thanks for reminding me."

"What is that?"

James took a deep breath. "Just something to thank you for last night,…and for everything you've done."

"James, you really didn't have to-"

"No. I've been wanting to do this for a year, it's time." 

Your breath caught in your throat as James opened the box to reveal a small, simple sapphire ring. He began, "I should've done this sooner, and I'm a fool for not doing so." James fell to one knee, and you gasped. "Darling,…Over the years I've known you, you have helped me…become a man again. You've remained by my side as I've made attempts to return to civilian life. You've comforted me during my worst hours, and you have given me something worth living for."

"James…"

"You're someone worth fighting for." He laughs a little. "I love you. And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making you feel loved and caring for you in the ways that you have cared for me.

Darling, will you marry me?"

Magnus Martinsson from Wallander

"Marry me." Magnus groaned with relief when you brought him a plate of eggs, some coffee, and an aspirin. He was laying on your couch, hungover after a night out with you and some of his mates from the police station.

You simply rolled your eyes and laughed a little. "Eat your eggs, you'll feel better with some food inside you."

Magnus kept his eyes on you while you both drank coffee, his headache slowly diminishing. "That a yes?"

"No, Magnus." You flatly said. "You had a lot to drink last night. Just…eat your eggs and finish your coffee. I'm not saying yes to a guy that passed out on my couch after throwing up into the bushes outside."

He grimaced. "I did that?…Sorry." Magnus looked down and shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Whatever, it was just a question, not like I meant it or anything." He pretended to brush off the matter. "You doing anything else today?"

"Tidying the house. You?"

Magnus closed his eyes for a moment to taste the savory flavor of the eggs. "i have a few things to do at the station for Kurt. Won't take long."

You and Magnus finished breakfast in silence before Magnus thanked you for letting him crash on your couch. "I'll see you soon." He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You almost found it funny, the way he groaned for you to marry him, and chuckled to yourself. For all of his sarcastic quips and his cold exterior, there were times Magnus was an unintentional sweetheart. You'd known him for about seven months, how endearing he was whenever he tried to show off at darts or pool. You thought about the time he brought you soup every night when you had a flu that lasted for a week. And during that one time he showed up late to one of your date nights because of a case, he spent the rest of the evening simply snuggling with you until you fell asleep in each others' arms. It was one of the first times you'd ever seen him smiling so blissfully like a newborn baby.

About a few hours later, you could hear it rain outside, a bolt of thunder rumbling across the sky. While caught up in some trashy television, you heard a knock on the door. 

There was Magnus, standing outside drenched from head to toe. 

"Magnus, what are you-"

"I meant it." He confessed while the raindrops rolled down the sides of his face. "Marry me." He repeated when you asked him what he was talking about. Magnus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small gold ring with three tiny diamonds. "You're the most perfect person in this entire world. And it's not just because you make the best eggs." He said, making you laugh. "You're stunning, even when you've just woken up. You put up with a lot, and…I can't really say what it is you do to me, but I can't help it. I…I…"

"I love you too, you crazy detective!" You finished.

"So, is that a yes?" Magnus asked again, with a big grin on his face as he presented the ring to you. 

Robert Laing from High-Rise

"We need to talk." Robert broke the silence while the two of you shared a candlelit dinner in your flat. 

All traces of a smile disappeared from your face instantly. Usually nothing good ever followed those four words. 

You put your fork down. "What did you want to talk about?"

Robert looked you in the eye. "I moved to this high-rise to be alone, to be away from people. This…a relationship was the last thing that I wanted." He blinked, looking down at his plate for a moment. Then, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. 

You tensed in your seat, preparing for the worst. God, Robert. If he was trying to break up with you, then he just picked the worst time possible. 

The doctor stood up. "I thought I wasn't built for love…So I tried to be alone as much as I could, avoiding every chance to be attached to someone." He swallowed. "And then you came."

You let out a sigh, assuming that Robert was going to say something awful about your relationship. 

"It was like I couldn't even recognize myself anymore. What you did to me…" Robert called your name and walked over to you. "I cannot go a day without hearing your quippy words…, without seeing you when I come home,…without kissing you. It's more than anything I have felt in years." He confessed, his fingers tracing the back of your chair. "If you were to disappear from my life, it would feel like losing everything I've ever known. And…truthfully, the idea of that terrifies me. Maybe I could live without you,…but I don't know if I would be able to call it living.

"So what are you trying to say?" You murmured.

Robert sighed. "Forgive me, I'm not used to having these conversations."

"It's okay."

"You did it again." The doctor remarked. "You're making me fall in love with you, sweetheart." Robert went to the coat closet where he kept his blazer, and pulled a small box from one of the pockets. He returned to your side. "What I'm trying to say is,…that I'm in love with you. I'm in love not only with you, but with the way that you make me…feel things. The way that you remind me that there's a future ahead of us both. A future that can be much more than just dreary parties and squabbles between the upper floors and lower floors. You make me very happy, darling, and I think that you should know that." 

Robert took a deep breath and fell to one knee, next to your chair with the box opened to reveal a silver ring with a diamond heart. "Would you marry me, and make me an even happier man?"

Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

You were sitting on the swing set in the garden of your family estate, enjoying the mid-morning sun and the gentle breeze. Idly moving your legs back and forth, you played with a small cluster of Baby's Breath in your lap. It was nice to be away from the bustling drama and the incessant gossip, and instead be surrounded by fresh air. 

"My lady." You were awoken from your reverie by a smooth, vaguely familiar baritone that belonged to none other than Thomas Sharpe. He was a guest who'd been staying at an inn near your family's home, having joined your family for supper at least ten times in the past two weeks. In your eyes, he seemed mysterious and yet full of stories to tell, always having an anecdote about a place he'd visited or a trick to show you and your siblings. There was something about him that made you drawn to him as soon as he walked into a room, you were unable to articulate what it was. 

"Good morning. What brings you here, Baronet?" 

The baronet gave you a smile, and leaned against a tree, watching you enjoy yourself on the swings. "I was speaking to your father and his, erm, associates about a business venture."

"About clay, right? Mining it?"

Thomas nodded. "Precisely, my lady. And you, have you been enjoying your morning?"

You blushed as he took a step closer. "Yes, Baronet."

"No need for such formal titles now, my lady. We're not at a ball, nor are we at supper. ''Thomas' will do." He gently said. "May I share your company for a while, my lady, if it would not be much of a bother for you?"

You allowed him, giving the Baby's Breath to him as a token of affection. No, not a token of affection. Simply a nice gesture that would hopefully give you a place in Thomas's good books. Maybe he might even ask you for a dance at the next ball.

"Will you be attending the ball this Saturday, Bar- I mean, Thomas?"

He nodded, taking a moment to smell the flowers. "You?"

"I will." 

"And have you chosen a gown, my lady?" Thomas decided to humor you a little. He smiled while you sheepishly described the dress that you had your eye on for that special occasion. "Well, I'm sure you will look divine wearing it, my lady. Do you often spend time here in the gardens, all by yourself."

"Yes. I enjoy the flowers, and the breeze. It's beautiful when the weather is pleasant."

"I can imagine, my lady. It's been a long time since I have relaxed in a garden." Thomas places the Baby's breath in his front pocket. "My lady, there is something I wish to know of you."

You stopped swinging, and asked him what it was.

"I would like to know if you would be interested in marrying me." Thomas knelt by your side, looking up at you with eyes that bore the same hue as a cloudless sky. "For some time, my lady, I have admired your numerous charms from afar. And with each passing day, my affections for you have grown stronger. I find myself thinking about you at the most unpropitious times of day." He sighs, "While I may not be a man of great fame or great brawn or of great wealth, I am a man of dignity." Thomas promised you, despite knowing it was a blatant lie. "I will make sure that you lack nothing as my wife. And to treat you with nothing but the compassion and the love that you deserve. All I ask in return, is that you try to find it in your heart to give me even an iota of your affections.

Would you be willing to do that, my lady?"

Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston

Ever since you moved into the flat Mr. Hiddleston bought for you, the most powerful man in London always had a designated town car sent to pick you up from work or school every day. His favorite chauffeur would show up at the same time every weekday, give you a friendly greeting, and drop you off at your flat. And once you got there, you'd be greeted by a doorman that Mr. Hiddleston personally hired to make sure that you reached safely.

Today, however, the chauffeur did not drop you off at your flat. At least, not right away. "Monsieur Hiddleston had something different in mind for today," he said with a small grin, like he knew something was going on. The chauffeur dropped you off at the nail salon for a manicure paid for by your powerful beau. 

After being pampered by the nail technician for about forty-five minutes, you returned to the town car to find a bag in the backseat with the word 'Harrods' on it. "You went shopping?" You asked the chauffeur while he drove you to your flat.

"Non, it was all Monsieur Hiddleston. He was keeping this dress on hold, and asked me to pick it up for you. He would like you to wear it tonight."

You thanked the chauffeur with a smile. Inside the bag was a beautiful Carolina Herrera gown in your favorite color. And right on cue, your phone buzzed with a text from your beau, asking if you liked his gift. As always, you texted back saying that it was perfect. 

The chauffeur dropped you off at your flat, and asked you to be ready by seven-thirty…but not before taking a good look at your manicured nails and saying an early 'congratulations'.

"Gordon owes me a favor," Mr. Hiddleston bragged a little when he arrived in front of your building at seven-thirty sharp. He opened the door of his favorite black Jaguar, and helped you inside the front passenger seat. "You look stunning tonight, darling."

"You look amazing too," you couldn't help but say. It was the truth after all. "When you said Gordon, did you mean…?"

"We're going to the River Restaurant in the Savoy Hotel, darling." He kept one hand on the steering wheel, placing the other one on your knee. "Hungry?"

"Nervous," you sheepishly said.

"I'm here, nothing can harm you." He turned his eyes to the road. "Your fears are far behind you."

The moment you arrived, the host of the restaurant immediately led you both to one of the outdoor terraces, where there was a table for two set up. Mr. Hiddleston pulled the chair for you before sitting down, and a waiter poured both of you some Dom Pérignon. 

"This is beautiful." You gushed, watching the most powerful man in London raise an invisible toast. You clinked your glass against his. 

 He replied with a dramatic flair.  "Nothing compared to you."

"So…what did you to get this favor?" You leaned in and asked him while the waiter placed a charcuterie board for the two of you to share. "This is a seafood place, charcuterie isn't on the menu."

A twinkle in his cerulean eyes, Mr, Hiddleston fed you a piece of cheese. "That's confidential, darling. Just enjoy the night."

"I will."

The two of you made small talk about your day, and about Mr. Hiddleston's upcoming business trip to Paris. You would be going with him of course, Mr. Hiddleston would make sure of that. The waiter refilled your champagne, and your beau discretely gave him a twenty-pound note, whispering that it was time for the main course.

The waiter took about fifteen minutes to bring your elegantly-arranged entrees out onto the terrace. And as he came out, you could hear an orchestra from inside the hotel begin to play "All I Ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera.

"Enjoying yourself?" Mr. Hiddleston leaned forward with a smirk as he noticed you listening to the music.

You admitted this was one of the songs you enjoyed, and said it reminded you of the first time you'd ever heard of the musical. How much you wanted to be Christine in that moment, serenaded with the promise of a life with no more darkness.

"Well there's one more thing I have for you tonight, darling." With a smirk, Mr. Hiddleston reached into the pocket of his blazer, retrieving a small box labeled 'Harry Winston'. He slowly got out of his chair and made his way towards you. 

You gasped, covering your mouth almost immediately. You swore you could feel your heart stop just for a moment when his eyes met yours. It all made sense now: the manicure, the accidental 'congratulations', the gown,…

 "Oh my god…"

Mr. Hiddleston fell to one knee and opened the box, which contained a 1-carat diamond ring with a platinum band. "Love me. It's all I ask of you."

Tag list: @thatdummy-girl @icytrickster17  @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl  , @lokisninerealms  @jennyggggrrr  ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines  , @lokiismineforever  @smolvenger  @winterfrostlovetriangle  , @the-haven-of-fiction  , @turniptitaness   @cakesandtom  ,@sallymagnoliaposts  @leahs-reading-nook  @holdmytesseract  @muddyorbsblr @evelyn-kingsley @anukulee @acidcasualties @lotsoflokilove23 @caffiend-queen