#he was a married man til the end

[neitherofusideal]

I don't know who needs this info but I just combed through every moment of TWOTL curious to see if Will has ever stopped wearing his wedding ring with Molly at one point in Season 3B but no, he was still wearing it 'til the end.

The ring as seen in 3x12.

1st photo: During the escape; 2nd photo: As they were killing the Dragon.

[darkbluekies]

Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer. 

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him. 

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again. 

But he did. Somehow, he did. 

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one. 

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you. 

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other. 

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase. 

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights. 

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back. 

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says. 

Me neither, you think. 

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe. 

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered. 

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine. 

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke. 

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes. 

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank. 

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”. 

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint. 

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble. 

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry. 

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away. 

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat. 

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?” 

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping. 

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly. 

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter. 

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling. 

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away. 

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall. 

“Don’t ever say that again”, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him. 

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead. 

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold. 

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.�� He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty. 

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.” 

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused? 

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in. 

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks. 

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish. 

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him. 

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you. 

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you. 

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder. 

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning. 

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now. 

“I’m not hungry”, you say. 

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing. 

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears. 

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks. 

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers. 

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled. 

His words send icy shivers down your back. 

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky. 

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls. 

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure. 

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside. 

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court. 

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole. 

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body. 

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole. 

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command. 

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries. 

[hypnos333]

Left her behind

Lucifer x Angel Wife Reader

Synopsis: Lucifer left you behind to rule hell and have lilith so you were behind cleaning up your broken piece

Your wings were bigger than your body but your heart was bigger than your wings. You were an archangel helping your god important plans for mankind. Your husband Lucifer was a Seraphim and you always wonder how you two ever gotten married.

An Archangel and a Seraphim what an unexpected pair, isn’t it?

As you were talking to a human Adam about what god had told you to tell him. A bad feeling was upon you as you excused yourself to go back to heaven to find your husband.

An hour had gone by and you still couldn’t find him til you saw Lilith and you husband kissing. You were shocked and upset until god touched your shoulder ushering back into heaven saying he’ll handle it. Of course you couldn’t question someone you absolutely trust so you flew up with tears hurriedly to go find Gabriel and Michael.

That’s when you found out your husband has been banished with everyone else who betrayed God and heaven.

They were sent to hell as Lucifer as the leader of it and Lilith as queen. You sobbed so loudly make Gabriel hushed you quietly as he sway you left and right to get you to calm yourself.

Michael came back in with some ice cream with a sad smile. “Let forget about your ex husband my little Beauty” And you agreed. That was centuries ago and during that time you found out Lucifer had a daughter which made you completely forget about him focusing about your home more importantly.

Today was your birthday and you had to go to a meeting about the extermination in hell.

Back in hell after getting a meeting to heaven he told his daughter an important story.

“Over a century ago there was these two angels one in a lower class and another in a higher class they loved each nonetheless. Married in heaven but soon the married man became regrettably enchanted with a human bringing her with him to his chaos but leaving his heart where heaven was at” Lucifer explained

“Y-You left your real wife, dad?” She asked him shock and sadness looking at the sky.

“Sadly so, she was supposed to be your mom” He chuckled as tears slipped out his eyes. The amount of times he goes over to see you but you never reciprocate breaks his heart.

He still wears his gold wedding ring from the day he married you and he can never forget that day.

“Don’t worry charlie i’ll win her back no matter the cost and I’ll bring her here to hell for her to rule with me” He reassured her with determination. They both look up to the sky to see a rare white star down at hell.

Alternative ending

Regular ending

[jhdyuiee]

Million Dollar Baby !

▫️pairing: idol husband!jaehyun x fem!reader

▫️tags/warnings: fluff, smut!, kissing/making out, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), 69, multiple orgasms, multiple positions (doggy, mate press, riding), breeding kink, creampie, breast play, biting, squirting, cursing, pet-names (baby&wife), absolute filth (sorry 🫠)

▫️w.c: 3.0k!

▫️a.n: god jaehyuns prada outfit this year had me combusting & having such obscene thoughts… this man truly shines! the title is homage to the song he chose for his original ig post hehe. anyhow i hope u all are well & i just got back from my trip & started taking a summer course so i hope i’m able be a but more active! stay safe & i love u all!! jiji out 🤍

+ + +

One long flight later, we arrived in Milan! We were only here for about two days, Jaehyun needed to shoot something for Prada so I tagged along. Unfortunately we left our kids behind with his parents whilst we came here.

“It would’ve been nice if the kids came,” I whispered to Jaehyun as we walked through the airport. It was quite crowded, fans stormed everywhere. It was only 3 in the morning, and here they were trying to get pictures and signatures from Jaehyun and occasionally from me as well. I wasn’t too big on the spotlight, but nonetheless it would follow me everywhere I go.

Jaehyun leaned down to my ear, a couple fans squealing. “Yeah, but I’m just excited to finally spend some time alone with you.” By alone he means absolute filth. I pinched him, causing him to chuckle. “Don’t forget you’re here to work!” I reminded my dear husband.

“Right,” he says in a strange tone, and it was only then that I realized what he would mean.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Finally having arrived at the hotel we would be staying at, his manager called him to take him away. He became incredibly clingy, not wanting to leave my side. “You’ll be back,” I reassured him. “But being one second apart from you saddens me,” he says. I sighed, opting to just pat his head. “NOW GO! I don’t want your manager getting upset with either of us now,” I told him.

Jaehyun reluctantly got up from my embrace. “I’ll try to finish and come back as fast as I can,” he said, kissing my cheek. I smiled, “Alright! I love you, have fun.”

I watched as he left our room, and then turned around to unpack. We wouldn’t be here for long, but nonetheless I had to do something. When I finished unpacking I laid on our bed, grabbing my phone. I was met with a message from him. God, this man really can’t go a second without me.

Jae <3 : Do you want me to bring back something to eat, or should we just get room service?

I’ll just get us some room service, makes you come back quicker.

Jae <3 : Ha, missing me already darling?

More or less.

Jae <3 : Oh, just wait til’ I get back.

Can’t wait!

We’ve been married for some time now and we still act like we’re in our honeymoon phase. Not even after having two kids has our love stopped. As I recounted our time together, I ended up falling asleep. The jet lag must’ve hit me.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

I hear the faint calls of my name. I try opening my eyes, only meeting a blurry figure. I wait til’ my eyes refocus, finally focusing on the figure. Jaehyun.

He smiled, “Rest well?” “Mmm,” I muttered as I tried looking out the window. The sun shining, so I wondered what time I must’ve been. 2:00 p.m, the clock read. “All finished?” I asked him, extending my arms.

“Yup, and like I promised I rushed back here,” he said, taking my arms around his neck and holding me in his lap. “You hungry? I didn’t get a chance to order the fo-“ I said before I was interrupted by his lips clashing into mine.

I moaned in surprise, his kiss was surely hungry and needy. He grabs the back of my head, deepening the kiss. He slips his tongue inside my mouth, practically consuming me. My hands start moving around his neck, urging him to come closer. I end up straddling his lap as we passionately kiss one another. I felt him smirk, whilst we kissed when I began grinding on him.

“Needy already baby?” he says against my lips. His lips no longer on mine, but all over my face– kissing my features. “Keep going,” he whispered into my ear. His hot breath turned me on even more. I did as he said, grinding more against his hardening cock. His hands traveled along my back, until they reached my ass, leaving behind a hot trailing blaze. The contact of his hardened cock and my needy pussy, left me so wet that I was sure if I were to get up right now, you would be able to see it on his pants.

Jaehyun’s lips reached my collarbone, where he gently bit into my skin. I winced in pain, but the feeling was also pleasuring. “Take it off,” he mutters against my skin. I begin taking off my shirt, throwing it somewhere in the hotel room. “How are you always so gorgeous, my wife?” His subtle comments always leave me a scrambling mess.

His lips made their way to the plush of my tits, kissing them delicately whilst his hands made their way up to unhook my bra. Once it was off and thrown somewhere in the hotel room, he began giving them his utmost attention. He alternated between the two: sucking, licking, and biting my tits. The tug on my nipples left me chanting out his name like a prayer. My own hands now tugging on his soft strands of hair.

“Such perfect tits, love 'em most when they’re all swollen and big.” Jaehyun kisses my tit and fondles the other, “How about it? Wanna have another one?” He lets go of my tit with a pop, looking at me with those chocolate-colored eyes of his. “God, yes!” I moan rather loudly. His lips clash onto mine again, going a tad bit more gently than before.

I should’ve known what it meant to accept his offer. Jaehyun was a determined man, he was going to make sure I got pregnant by the end of the night no matter if it meant staying up until the sun rose…

All our clothes were gone, scattered everywhere along this hotel room. Jaehyun laid his back on the bed, while both of my thighs were on either side of his head. I lowered myself a bit further down until I felt his wet muscle kitten lick my wet cunt. I let out a low moan and then a slightly louder one when he began licking my cunt up just a bit faster.

His hands worked their way with my thighs, squeezing them and then fondling them before electing one slightly harsh slap on my ass. The slap caused my body to fall forward, my face facing his aching hardened cock.

I practically drooled at the sight. His red tip leaking with pre-cum, I wanted nothing more but to take it in my mouth.

And so I did. I started with swirling my tongue on his tip, eating away his pre-cum. Then slowly beginning to sink my mouth into his cock even more. I felt as he let out muffled moans onto my cunt, eliciting a pleasurable feeling to course through me.

His tongue brushed against my clit multiple times, sucking it later on. My hips began moving on their own accord, grinding on his face as I worked my way with his cock. No matter how many years we’ve been together, his cock is something I’d probably never grow accustomed to. I admit that I struggled a bit as I tried fitting it all in my mouth. Muffled moans and gags spilled out of my mouth as drool went running past my lips.

I moved up and down along his shaft, going at a slow pace until I felt more accustomed, all the while I grinded ruthlessly against his face. His mouth was doing god's work on my needy cunt, he practically made out with the poor thing. He slurped up all my juices, not missing a single drop. “So sweet,” he murmured when he let go of me for a split second. He dove back in even rougher, slipping his wet muscle inside my hole.

He tongue fucked me so perfectly I could feel something rushing within me, threatening to release itself. So I began working my way on his cock, taking him even faster than before. I added my hands to the mix, fondling his balls. Bingo. His cock then began twitching in my mouth, signaling he was close. I continued a while more until his hot white cum painted my mouth. I swallowed it all before I too ended up cumming a while afterwards with a pinch to my clit.

I got off him afterwards, turning to see as Jaehyun’s face glistened with my release. It turned me all the more, I wanted more and I sure as hell was going to get it.

“Get on all fours, beautiful,” Jaehyun said in a low deep voice that made me quickly obey him.

My back arched when his hand touched me from my upper back all the way to my ass, in which he gave them a light slap. “Mmm, p-please inside! Inside me jae!” I moaned out rather loudly. I was growing impatient and so must've him since he rammed into me, no warning— no anything.

I jolted a bit forward due to the impact, but I didn’t mind. His cock fit so snug inside me, my walls gripping him. “So tight and so wet it slid right in,” he said chuckling. His hands gripped my hips so tight, I was sure to wake up with crescent dents on either side of my hips tomorrow.

His thrusts were just too overstimulating. Merciless and harsh thrusts, like a wild man. You’re cunt squeezing on his cock just right that it made it impossible for Jaehyun to even stop for a split second.

My head flings back as Jaehyun continues his thrusts, fucking into me even deeper. His cock kissed my cervix so perfectly I was starting to see stars again. No, no not yet.

“Gonna cum already?” he whispered into my ear before licking the shell. I groaned, “Ye-yes! Your cock just feels so— so good!”

He kissed the side of my jaw before saying, “Then let go baby, we got all night remember?” I moaned at his words, the reminder that he wouldn’t stop until I got pregnant edged me closer to my release.

He kissed me tenderly, his hands resting on my ass as he fondled it. Slap. And then another. Not gentle slaps like earlier, but harsher ones. Ones that made me clench around him even tighter. When he stops, a hand of his travels to the front of my body and down to my swollen clit.

Jaehyun’s fingers working miracles on my clit, abusing the poor thing. I chanted out his name, followed by moans until I let out a slight high-pitched scream when my orgasm came crashing out. I huffed, my eyes watered. I slumped onto the bed, but that didn’t stop Jaehyun— not one bit.

Jaehyun wraps his arm around my waist, bringing me back up and then using both his hands to support me. He continued pounding roughly into me, determined to meet his own release. After your orgasm hit you, he felt how slippery and wetter your cunt had become yet still so tight. He was gonna cum soon, he knew it.

He takes your arms in both his hands, thrusting into you this way. One thrust, then two, and on the third his cock twitched inside you, spilling his warm seeds inside. By the end of it, my insides felt so warm and full already.

Jaehyun removes his cock from me, and lets go of my arms causing me to flop onto the mattress. It felt empty inside me without him, but all I could focus on was how exhausted I’d become from the intense sex. However I knew we were far from done…

I lift my head to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun. He sat up, staring at my figure— his eyes traveling to my pussy where his cum began spilling out. “Come here,” he said. My body moved on its own, forgetting how exhausted I just was.

“Ride it baby,” he muttered in my ear, placing a kiss on my temple. I supported myself on his shoulders, taking his cock in my hand as I began to sink into it. I whimpered when I felt him inside me once.

Once I felt well adjusted, I began moving up and down on his cock. “Fuck, that’s it wife. Come on, ride it faster,” he groans. Gripping his shoulders, I moved faster like he told me to do so. The sensation of his cock stretching out my walls felt so pleasuring, hypnotizing; I loved it.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning closer to his chest. His hot breath fanned my ear, it felt tickling. My pace slowed a bit, Jaehyun noticing the change.

“Tired already? Don’t worry I got you,” Jaehyun says into my ear as he grabs my ass and starts plunging his cock onto me roughly again. The sensation caused loud noises to spill from my mouth and arch my back into his chest even more. “Lo-Look at me,” Jaehyun struggled to say.

My eyes met his, lusting and hungry eyes staring straight at me. He closed the distance between us, engulfing his lips onto mine. He drank up all my moans, his tongue running along my teeth and bottom lip. I pulled away first when he began massaging my clit. “Fu-Fuck to-too much ja-jae!”

“Ha, it’s alright wife, I know you can take it.” I laid my head on his shoulder, in which then my mouth bit on him. I heard Jaehyun let out a deep groan, “Shit, biting me now huh.”

I giggled, kissing the spot I had bitten. After a while I begun moving my hips on my own to meet his thrust. We both panted, nearing our end.

“You close baby?” Jaehyun whispered into my ear. I nodded my head, yes. That was all the confirmation Jaehyun needed before his lips met mine once more, causing us both to crumble down. His seeds spilled into me for a second time tonight.

His lips parted from mine this time, before he swiftly moved me to lay on my back. He hadn’t taken his cock out yet, instead he pried my legs wide open. He held my thighs as he slid out, leaving only the tip inside.

From this angle Jaehyun could see as his cum began spilling out. Oh hell no, he thought. So he plunged back into you again, on a mission to bury his seeds deep inside you. After all, he wanted to see you all swollen with his child again. Make you a mommy again, show you off to whoever he could.

I grip the sheets, then going to grab his shoulders. I watched as sweat trickled down his face, his face focused on where we connected. Jaehyun’s hand let go of my thigh, trailing it to my lower stomach as he pressed down that very hand on my stomach.

The feeling caused my back to arch, “J-Jae!”

“Can’t wait until you tell me you’re pregnant with my child. Stomach and tits so swollen. Mine, all mine. A proof of our undying love. God, how much I love you Y/N. You’re made for me, all of you.”

Jaehyun’s declaration melted my heart. I felt warm and fuzzy inside, making me forget for a moment what was happening until he grabbed my thigh again and began thrusting into me.

It wasn’t long until we both came again, and by now I was too stuffed, too full. I thought we for sure would have conceived by now, but in Jaehyun’s eyes it never hurt to try again…

So we went at it like rabbits until the sun rose. We both collapsed onto the bed, sweating and out of breath.

“You sure have some amazing fucking stamina, Jae,” I said chuckling. He smiled, welcoming his dimples. “Why thank you,” he says, coming close to wrap his arms around my body and kiss the top of my head.

“Rest for a bit, then i’ll help you hop in the bath,” he says softly. His demeanor now was a total change from earlier. Whatever, at least I could rest now.

My eyes fluttered and then closed. I rested in Jaehyun’s warm embrace and by the time I opened them again, I laid in the bathtub with my back pressed against his chest. “Good morning,” he says kissing my cheek. I smiled, “Morning, did I sleep for long?”

He pondered for a bit, “It’s about past noon now.” My eyes widened, I turned to face him. “Don’t you have a schedule to go to?!” He nodded his head, “Nope, I told my manager I would take the day off until we have to depart later tonight.”

“Ah,” I said leaning back into him. We enjoyed the warm bath together, with nothing too intimate besides kisses. And so once we finished a much needed bath, we enjoyed one another’s warm and loving company until it was time to depart.

Hand in hand, we walked along the airport though I admit I struggled to walk a bit. Curse you Jaehyun. Fans once again coursing around us.

And once we boarded the flight, I fell asleep some more and before I knew it we had landed and made it home. I embraced my children into a big hug, I admit I had missed these two little ones dearly but thankful me and Jaehyun were able to spend some time alone. Though, all we did was have sex…

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Yup, all that fucking me into oblivion worked.

Pregnant.

That was what the test read, not that I wasn’t expecting it but now it felt a bit more real. Our third child. Our third blessing. I caressed my belly, whispering a small “I love you” to the child growing inside me.

And so when Jaehyun came home, I made the big announcement. He cried, “tears of joy” he stated. We couldn’t be any happier, our family was growing. Our love for one another would too.

“I love you Y/N,” he said softly touching my belly. “Thank you for everything my wife.”

© jhdyuiee

2024.07.08

final a.n: ahh this one took longer than anticipated ughhh! i feel like half of it has to do with the fact i start stories and then start others ㅠㅠ ! pardon me tho plss bcs i am preparing lots for the future so pls stay tuned… this week, hehe. 🤍

[sunnypopoki]

YANDERE X READER RECS ━━

ᴀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ! ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪɴ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʀʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ!

𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 ( yandere! mafia husband x female! reader)

Y/N fell in love with him in high school, married him after graduation, and moved in with him whenever she decided to go to college. But something about him was odd. Disappearing at night, being gone for days on end, answering suspicious unknown phone calls, being overly clingy... He's not cheating, right? Or was something worse going on?

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD, TUMBLR, QUOTEV

𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 ( dark reverse harem x villainess! reader )

Y/N wanted her arranged husband dead. Who could blame her? After she was forced to marry the Grand Duke, she knew that she'd live a miserable life, especially if it meant being tethered to him til the end of her days. So she started to make a plan. A sinister plan to kill him, his close friends, and topple his empire of fame to the ground. If she wasn't allowed to have rights, why should they? But it was easier said than done... because unbeknownst to her, three men would do anything to appease her.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 ( yandere! emperor x female! reader )

Emperor Cadmus Dimitriou. Whether people knew him by his title as emperor of Kiaba, or his cutthroat win in the war three years ago, they all knew that a man like him was destined for greatness. But Y/N? She was destined for the constant spray of blood, the roaring of the crowd, and the thud of bodies dropping. It wasn't like Gladiators had a choice. However, that all changed when she was bought for a cheap price by a cruel man who wanted to test her fame. And Emperor Cadmus wouldn't take no for an answer.

• • • NOT YET RELEASED (WILL BE SOON)

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 ( yandere! vampire x male! reader )

The Devil stopped at the doorstep of Y/N's church with a charming smile. Business, he said, that was why he came by to visit. His touch left Y/N's skin in flames, his gaze made his stomach twist, and his voice made his head spin. This man, Linus Ambrose Wittherson, had to be Lucifer himself.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ( assassins! reverse harem x villainess! reader )

Everyone inside Fulminare Academy had secrets; the professors, the students, the scrappy dogs outside. Y/N was no different. However, she never thought those secrets would lead to her demise. Mysterious men were out for her head, or more specifically, the knowledge inside it. May curiosity kill these wicked cats.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD & QUOTEV

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐓 ( yandere! serial killer x male! reader )

Y/N knew there was something wrong with him but he couldn't help it. He was 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. Who wouldn't be hooked onto someone like Micah Ariti? A transfer student from Greece who was perfect in every way; his athleticism, his creativity, his 'no-bullshit' type of personality. Even if he knew then about who he really was, he was already addicted. He would never let him go.

• • • NOT YET RELEASED (WILL BE SOON)

[auroracalisto]

to call you mine.

anthony bridgerton x gn!reader, 2.4k words summary: anthony comes to the realization that perhaps he needs you more than just a few times a month. can be read as a standalone, but it is a continuation of this short fic here. tw: reader comes from a poorer background which is discussed in the first half of this, mentions of scandals, anxious thoughts, idk man i don't think there really needs to be a tw for this. not really edited though so there may be a few mistakes i missed on my initial two read-throughs. :-)

"I beg you," you softly said. "I beg you to stay, just 'til tomorrow." He looked back at you as he finished buttoning up his shirt, grabbing his trousers from the end of the bed and pulling them on rather quickly. "Y/n, you know I can't do that," he said. "As much as I wish I could." He crossed the threshold to be beside of you, taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I do wish I could. But it's not going to happen. Not today." read the full blurb here.

Scandalous. Unworthy. Only the words of a scandalized mind haunted your every step.

Compared to your lover, you were a simpleton—gullible, unready for the truth that the world was so willing to give. The truth that you weren't worthy of Anthony Bridgerton. A Viscount. Someone of your status wouldn't come close to being with a Viscount, no matter how much pining you did to try and get him to stay with you longer than the early hours of the morning.

You knew this. And yet, your heart pined for him. Your heart ached for him.

Day in and day out, you wished for him to stay just a bit longer. Just a bit longer, in your arms. In your bed. In the warmth of your embrace.

Oh, God, what you would give to have Anthony until your dying breath.

But the world wasn't fair. The 'ton did as it would, and if any suspected Anthony had been with you, the repercussions would be immense. Perhaps not for Anthony, but for you.

Your family would never hear the end of it. You would be scandalized until the end of your days.

You would be happy just to be beside of him. To breathe the same air as he.

We never get what we truly want, do we, dear reader?

The sanctity of your bedroom, despite how run down in may be, was all you'd share with Anthony. It seemed as if that was the only moment in time when you could share your body with his, your thoughts with his, your heart with his.

It would never be enough.

You came from a less than savory background. Your mother married for love instead of status, and married a simple printer from the slums of London.

Happy, yes, but the money wasn't what your mother was used to. At times, it seemed to go up and missing, and it would lead to arguments between your parents. As much as they loved each other, it did not help that they could not agree... financially.

But nonetheless, when the time was right and your mother was able to scrounge together enough money for a new dress and a new set of clothes for you, the two of you walked through the 'ton. She'd go and visit her mother, whom would accept her with open arms unless her father was around. She'd walk the same path as the Bridgertons' and Featheringtons' and ignore the questioning looks that were sent her way. She was after all a mysterious woman—to them, at least.

A woman who married for love. A woman who married a printer. How incredulous to think about for those of the 'ton. When it first happened, the scandal was immense.

And now, it seemed, you were in the same boat. Not wanting to marry for money but wanting to marry for love.

Love of the one and only Viscount Bridgerton. The one who could hardly look at you in the daylight, only seeking your comforts when the moon was high in the sky.

Today was one of the days that your mother finally had a new dress. It was quite charming, the deep green fabric complimenting her skin quite nicely. Your outfit was equally charming, in the color of your choice.

"Darling," your mother said, grabbing onto your arm as the two of you walked the path through the 'ton. You could remember the last time you had walked this path, nearly two months ago.

How time had flown since then.

The time spent with Anthony not only haunting your bed but your heart as well.

"Look," she said, squeezing your flesh with warm fingers. She doesn't point, but she nudges you and motions with her head.

Your eyes flickered towards where she directed, and you could feel your heart plummet.

Anthony Bridgerton and his family were out for a stroll. His brother seemed rather amused over something, even going as far as calling his brother's name.

You looked at your mother, feeling rather... ridiculous for how nervous you felt.

"We should keep walking, mother," you said.

"Nonsense! Long ago, I was quite close to Violet Bridgerton. I'd like to say hello, Y/n."

"But mother—"

"—it is not often that I allow myself a stroll through the 'ton. The carriage out is an expense in itself, Y/n. Please. Allow me to say hello to an old friend."

You paused, a soft frown on your lips. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry mother."

She let out a soft sigh and patted your arm, giving a small nod. She continued to walk forward with you.

When Violet Bridgerton spotted the two of you, she began to smile.

She called your mother's name and immediately left her children's side, coming to the woman she had once called a dear friend.

"Oh, my, how lovely you look!" Violet hugged your mother tightly once she had let go of your arm.

You stood to the side, eyes flickering from your mother to Violet. Then, when you believed it was safe, you glanced towards the bane of your existence—Anthony Bridgerton.

He was looking.

Your eyes widened a bit and you quickly looked away.

Just a few nights before had he been in your bed, looking at you with those delicious brown eyes. Just a few nights before had he ravished your body, looking at you as if you were the diamond he had been searching for all his life.

You could barely look at him without becoming flustered.

As Violet and your mother spoke, you hardly paid attention. Only when your mother said your name did you properly look to them.

"Remember Y/n?" your mother asked.

Violet smiled. "Oh, my," she said. "They certainly have grown, hm? I remember when they were just a little thing. How old are you, now, dear? Close to Daphne's age, yes?"

You blinked slowly and mutter out an answer.

Violet heard anyway. "Well," she softly said. "You are a beauty, through and through. Your mother was always quite beautiful growing up. You are lucky to have that with you, dear."

You weakly smiled. "Thank you, Lady Bridgerton."

Violet smiled softly at your politeness. She looked back at your mother. "Come. Walk with my family. There is much I'd like to talk to you about before you go and hide for the next few months, friend."

Your mother didn't look at you as she happily agreed. You would have protested, but the excited look on her face made you hesitate.

You could deal with being near the one you secretly loved if it meant your mother would be happy, even if momentarily.

The sun is high in the sky as the two of you walk towards Violet's family.

You see as Anthony's brother, the one you believe to be Benedict, nudges him rather roughly. Anthony looked to you, face paling at the sight of you.

He had promised you only nights before that you would see him again soon. You supposed he kept his promise, if not crudely done.

You could hardly look at him as you walked along with your mother, looking anywhere but him.

His sister, Eloise, is the one who comes to stand beside of you.

"You are Y/n," Eloise blurted, looking at you with wide, curious eyes. It wasn't often she met one of her brother's conquests—hell, she wasn't even sure if he knew she had found out. Eloise is rather... studious when she wants to be, when it comes to her brothers.

You blinked slowly as you looked at her. "I... I am, yes."

Eloise let out a soft hum, looking over her shoulder. Anthony is staring, saying something out of earshot to Benedict. Eloise then looked out towards the path as they walked.

"It is nice to have a name to the face," she said. "It is often that I only hear your name and have nothing more to go by."

You blinked slowly. "How did you—"

"—he speaks of you," she quickly said. "Often."

"He does?"

Your voice is small—weak, even. As if you couldn't believe the words you were hearing.

"Yes," Eloise said, a humble smile on her lips. "He does."

Benedict Bridgerton looked to his brother, a not-so-subtle grin on his lips. "You act as if you have never been in love, brother."

"I haven't," Anthony said, walking along the path. He looked towards Y/n and her mother as they walked alongside of his mother.

"Why do you lie?" Benedict teased. "It is as if you have never been so in-tune with your own feelings than now. You know you have been in love. You are staring at the very object of your affections, and yet you are letting them slip right through your fingertips."

He looked back at his brother, going to protest, but it dies on his lips. He knows he is right.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he would go back to them—that he would see them soon enough, that he would ravish them on another night.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he needed to return to his family before morning.

He was a Viscount, for god's sake. He could do as he pleased.

But something within him didn't want to do as he pleased just because of that. He wanted more. He wanted more from Y/n, from himself. From the love he knew he could create with them.

He would be better. For them. For himself, and for his family.

Days passed by rather quickly. It was as if your lonely nights had blurred into one. Not that you were complaining. How could you? The longer time passed, the sooner you would see Anthony once more.

In the early hours of an especially difficult night, the knock at your window is unmistakable.

How childish it was for him to throw pebbles at your window to get your attention. It was as if he hadn't grown, despite being at the right age of nine and twenty.

You go to your window and look down, seeing none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You open the window to peer down at him, a deep frown on your lips.

"Anthony—"

"—please, Y/n," he said, almost desperate. The way he says your name makes you melt. "We need to talk. Now."

You blinked slowly and stared at him for almost a solid minute. You reach over and grab a shawl to keep over your shoulders as you walked to the back entrance, where Anthony would greet you like he did so many other times.

But this time, the greeting was a deep and hungry kiss, hands cupping your cheeks as if he'd not had a comforting touch in a hundred years.

You let out a noise of surprise, nearly losing your grasp on your shawl as you kiss him back, eyes fluttering shut.

When he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, he spoke.

"I need you," he said.

"Anthony..."

"No," he said. "You do not understand what I am saying, Y/n. I need you like I've—oh, I've never needed anyone as bad as what I need you. Not just your body. Not just—not just your lips, love. I need—I need all of you."

You stared up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"The last you saw of me. I said you wouldn't be happy with me. I—I hope that it is merely a lie of mine. The way I would burn the 'ton to the ground just to have you by my side—you have no idea what I would do for you."

You just listened as he spoke, wide eyed and breathing heavily.

"You asked me to stay. Stay 'til tomorrow. Y/n, I... I cannot do that unless you become mine. Completely mine. And I—I do not wish to part from you. Parting from you is like parting from a vice that I didn't know I needed. I need you more than I ever believed possible." Anthony licked his lips, looking down at you. His hands cupped your cheeks once more, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "I do not wish to be parted from you any more than I have been."

"And how will you do that?" you asked, gently grabbing onto his forearms as he looked into your eyes. "You said it yourself. You cannot stay with me."

He shook his head, resting his forehead against yours. "I will make it work. I am a Viscount, and my sister is the Duchess of Hastings. The things that I can do will solve all the problems we may face... if you'll have me, of course."

You swallowed nervously as you watched him. "But the scandal—"

"—to hell with the scandals, Y/n," he said. "I would face a hundred of them if it meant that I could see your face morning, noon, and night. I would face a hundred more just to be able to call you mine."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Not as desperate as the one from before, but still just as powerful.

"Please. I know what I said, and I am sorry for being so foolish. You are the one I want, the one I need. My heart yearns for yours, Y/n."

"What are you asking me, Anthony?"

"I am asking you to marry me, Y/n. Marry me, and I will never leave you alone. Not like I have."

"You wish for me to marry you?"

"More than anything I've ever wished for," he softly said.

"Even though I am not of... of proper standing?"

"You are proper enough," he said, a small smile quirking on his lips.

You let out a soft huff, eyes searching his, before you find yourself nodding in return.

"I will marry you, but only with one condition," you said.

His eyes widened a bit. "Yes, of course. What is it?"

"Do not leave my side. When we are together, do not leave unless it is absolutely necessary. I do not know if I could handle it if you were to leave me to my lonesome," you said. "You have already done so, far too many times."

He smiled down at you, pressing yet another kiss to your lips. "I promise."

"No. Swear it."

He pulled back, tilting his head. "I swear it, Y/n. I will do no such thing for as long as I breathe."

tagging: @captainsophiestark @fall-outgirl219 @bowti3esrc00l

[vonne-inc]

product: yandere husband.

gender neutral reader. mainly fluff. yandere-ish (a little).

yandere husband, who met you a few months after your high-school graduation. being a barista at his parent's cafe and seeing you walk up to the counter. oh, how he immediately fell in love with you. he found you beautiful— no, more than beautiful; glorious, angelic, heavenly.. there were too many words to describe you. he knew you were perfect.

yandere husband, leaving his number on the receipt taped to your to-go drink. he watched as you glanced at the writing while walking out the door. your eyes met his, smiling as you held your phone in your palm. his heart raced with nervousness. his phone buzzed as it showed a text message from an unknown number. when he lifted his head, you were gone. he was happy, elated even.

yandere husband, at work or at home texted you any moment he could. he really liked you— you were just so fun and interesting! he couldn't get enough of you, and you could get enough of him.

yandere husband, after a few dates and flirty conversations, you started dating him. his obsessive and possessiveness didn't start until your first i love you's. only then did he realize that he needed your touch, your voice, your presence, all of you. he needed you, only you.

yandere husband, after two years of dating him, fully comfortable and accustomed to each other, he's asking if you'd ever want to get married. after months of talking and questions, hinting at the idea, he finally proposes. on one knee as you're in bed while the early sun shines through the curtains. it was a beautiful scene for your eyes.

yandere husband, who is smiling from ear to ear once you say yes, pulling you into a long, loving kiss. now he can plan his next moves to have you all for himself, forever.

yandere husband, smiling brightly as he watches you walking down the aisle. your attire fitting you perfectly, it was divine on you. he could feel himself falling in love with you all over again.

yandere husband, who said his vows, holding your hands as he repeated the rehearsed words he spent months on writing. there were too many things for him to say, words couldn't describe how you made him feel. the love you brought him were beyond description— you were ineffable, intangible, unutterable. he'd do anything for you; go through any suffering or pain for you. he'd even kill for you, if it came down to it. once he'd end his speech, kissing your knuckles, he'd listen to your vows with a loving smile.

yandere husband, as soon as he was able to, he pulled you in close as he cupped your cheek and kissed your lips. a short yet eternal kiss that made him feel like the luckiest man on earth. parting, he held his lips near your ear, whispering, "'til death do us part."

yandere husband, once the wedding was over, he carried you to your shared hotel suite. immediately climbing into bed with you, smiling widely as he peppers you in kisses. you stay in his arms during the night, comfortably sleeping in his embrace after the long and overdrawn day. he adores your sleeping figure, keeping himself as still as possible as to not wake you. oh, how he can't wait to spend the rest of forever with you. "you're mine and i'm yours, my love. forever and always."

[joshujin]

‘til god breaks this spell

joshua's devotion to you rivals his devotion to his god.

♫ spell by niki pairing: joshua x fem!reader word count: 4.6k cw: a lot of religious reflection (catholicism) tags: childhood best friends, angst, not the happy ending you probably want sorry, the one that got away, joshua is a good catholic boy, reader is atheist a/n: the very first fic i wrote was a bts jinkook fic that was inspired by la la lost you by niki. seems fitting that i start my svt writing journey with another niki inspired song hehe. other than that, idk what compelled me to torture myself (and now you) like this. also, this was written in one, flustered go so it's barely edited oops!

“mom, what would you do if i married someone who didn’t believe in god?”

joshua’s mother immediately set her novel down, glasses slipping down her nose as she frowned at her one and only son. he didn’t look up at her, choosing to stare down at his hands instead while he twirled the friendship ring he shared with you around his pinkie finger.

“married?” she repeated. “i wasn’t even aware you had someone in your life.”

he shook his head quickly, frowning down at his open palm as he began to massage it nervously. “i don’t. i’m just… curious, i guess.”

it might be silly to be as worried about this as he is, seeing as things haven’t progressed into a relationship yet, but he’d rather figure this out now and say nothing than risk it, go all in, and then cause unnecessary pain later on.

his mother stays silent long enough that he forces himself to look at her. her eyes are no longer on him, instead seemingly zoning out on the space straight ahead. he follows her gaze and grimaces when he realizes she’s staring at the wooden carving of the last supper hung on the wall.

“i wouldn’t do anything,” she begins carefully. “you’re a grown man, after all. but i would worry that marrying a partner who didn’t believe in god—any god at all—would make you stray from your own faith.”

it’s a diplomatic answer and he expected it; his mom has always been supportive of him, always allowing him the space and freedom to make his own mistakes and learn from them—or not.

“so you’d prefer i marry catholic?”

“i mean, of course, but that’s not what i said, was it?” his mom retorts, giving him a pointed look. she knew joshua had a way of misunderstanding a lot of the things she told him. “i would prefer you marry catholic the way i would prefer you marry at all—nice to have but if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world.”

joshua nods, feeling a little bit of the tightness in his chest dissipate.

“i would just hope you think about it long and hard enough to know that you won’t compromise any of your own beliefs for someone who lives without a god,” she emphasizes.

joshua mulls that idea over. is his faith strong enough to withstand a lifelong partner who didn’t share his belief and love for god?

he wants to say yes. it’s you—of course he wants to say yes. you’ve been friends your whole lives, and he’s been in love with you for most of that time. of course he wants his answer to be: yes, my faith will survive a relationship with an atheist.

but he thinks about the conversations you’ve already had years ago, and the tightness in his chest returns tenfold.

is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?

probably not. it just seems too convenient that there’s someone out there in charge of everyone’s lives.

would you marry someone religious?

i don’t know. i guess it depends on the person. i don’t think i’d participate or convert or anything if i did, though.

what about kids? would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?

dude, what’s with the interrogation? i don’t know! if it’s important to my partner, maybe? but i’d be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves. can we watch a movie now?

and each time you answered his question, instead of accepting that maybe there was a major incompatibility between the two of you, joshua would find himself thinking of the things he could compromise on.

okay, sure, he doesn’t need you to convert or participate; he’s already been going to church his entire adult life so far without anyone accompanying him. and if you didn’t want children baptized, that’s fine too! adults go through catholic confirmation later in life all the time! so what if you thought that the idea of a “big guy” controlling everyone’s lives was weird? he could just refrain from talking about that around you… or correcting your line of thinking because it’s a bit of a gross oversimplification of catholicism.

and as he sits there, his mother already back to her novel, he realizes his faith isn’t strong enough to survive you. because his love for you has become somewhat of its own religion to him, and if it came down to a question of his faith to you or his faith to god, he has to be honest with himself and admit that his mother’s fears are valid. he would put it all on the line if it meant being with you.

and he can’t do that.

he’s committed all kinds of sins by now. he’s been flexible in his beliefs—supportive and progressive in areas where other catholics have been unforgiving and in his opinion, outdated and bigoted. he’s compromised a lot at no cost to him or his god. but he can’t completely lose everything he’s known and loved for you. he can’t lose himself to you.

he can't forget that it isn't fair to you either—to have to try and appease him and his religion. he'd be doing you both a mercy, letting this spark die before it ever really takes flame.

joshua leaves his mother’s house knowing one thing is for sure: it’s time to let this dream of having you go.

the end is short and uneventful.

you two had only kissed once, and things hadn’t gone far enough for either of you to confess your feelings—whatever they were. so when joshua told you he thought it was better to stay best friends, you took it like a champ and agreed, smiling and hugging him tightly, promising him that nothing would change.

the end was short and uneventful, yet somehow the most devastating thing joshua has experienced. he had you. you were right there. he had a whole life with you in his palm, and he let it go.

he hates himself for it, but he saw it all. the moment his lips met yours, he saw hands intertwined together, late nights, car rides with his hand on your thigh, hugs from behind while he cooked for you, a suit and a white dress, a small, innocent face that looked like the both of you—your smile, his eyes.

and he feels like maybe you saw it too.

because when you both pulled away, you looked up at him like this was it—like you had just run a marathon and you had reached the finish line. like you’d grabbed his hand and crossed it with him. you smiled widely, wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, and caressed the skin there as your foreheads met. and you fell asleep wrapped up in each other like it was where you were both meant to be.

maybe you saw it too. and now he’s the reason it’ll stay a dream.

you stay true to your promise. joshua is almost saddened by how easy it seems for you to revert back to being only friends. every time he sees you, hears you, brushes up against you, he feels like his heart is cracking wide open and the world might just end at that very moment. it’s dramatic but he can’t wrap his mind around any other way to exist.

it hurts for a while, but the years pass a little easier.

he watches you date, and even though he’s secretly and unfairly relieved every time you throw someone else to the curb, he takes it well. he meets some of them and welcomes them warmly, agreeing to hang out with you and whoever you’re dating any time you ask him to. he even thinks one or two of them could give you a good life; he can live thinking of you with these ones forever. but you inevitably leave them behind and he hates that it makes him happy to watch you shake off a good guy that isn’t him.

just as he planned, joshua’s faith remains strong. he goes to church. he volunteers with his mom and her bible study friends. he sings and plays guitar on the praise and worship team from time to time. he meets a a catholic woman he thinks could be a match for him. he never asks her out. he politely declines when she musters up the courage to do it herself.

he thinks this could be fine. maybe he’ll be single forever and maybe you’ll find some average guy he can stomach, and his love for his god and for your happiness will keep him warm enough at night.

but then, you meet kwon soonyoung.

you’ve never been one to fall and tell; most of the time, joshua doesn’t know you’re dating someone until you decide it’s time to get his stamp of approval. he knows soonyoung is different from the jump.

your time starts to get tied up. it starts with only seeing him sporadically throughout the month instead of almost every day. it becomes rescheduling all your hangouts until you’re only seeing each other briefly at mutual friends’ events. it ends with missed calls and ignored texts.

he’s driving himself crazy wondering what’s going on, and when you post a photo on your story of a dinner date with a faceless man, he understands what’s happening. you’re falling in love. and he knows it because you never have—not truly—and this is what it must look like.

you don’t fall and tell, but joshua knows you too well to pretend it’s anything but this. he doesn’t try to take up any more of your time out of respect, and you don’t reach out.

you prove him right when a few months later, you bring soonyoung to a friend’s dinner party, and you introduce him as your boyfriend. it hits joshua like a truck. you’ve never introduced someone to him as a boyfriend. he’s always met the people you’ve dated before it progressed that far. he also had the privilege of meeting them privately, not with the rest of the friend group, none of who are privy to the way his heart collapses in on itself when he watches the way you lean into soonyoung all night. the way you laugh with him. the way his eyes disappear from how fondly he smiles at you. the way he seems to fit right into your life so perfectly.

you hug joshua tightly that night before leaving, and you tell him you miss him so much and you two need to catch up soon. neither of you follow up, though, and a year later, you’re engaged.

the week before joshua is due at your wedding as a guest—not your “man-of-honor” the way you’ve always planned your entire life—he gets completely shit-faced drunk.

he’s sitting on the sidewalk in front of a puddle of his own vomit when you quietly sit beside him, slipping your arm around his shoulders. he doesn’t know why you’re there. he doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating. he smiles anyway.

“hey, you.”

“hey, shua,” you whisper, smiling at him sadly. “what are you doing?”

“oh, y’know,” he shrugs, grinning at himself pathetically. “just hanging out.”

you hum, nodding.

“what are you doing here?” he asks.

you look at him with an inscrutable expression. “i just wanted to see you,” you answer. “i wanted to see my best friend.”

“am i?” he asks, looking up at the sky. the moon is covered by clouds tonight. “your best friend?”

“of course. you always will be.”

he smiles at the thought. he’s too drunk to realize there’s no possible way that’s true, not since soonyoung came into your life. he’s too drunk to remember there’s no room in your life for another man who’s just as hopelessly in love with you as your fiance is.

“say, do you believe in god yet?” he asks suddenly.

you raise an eyebrow at the suddenness of the question. “um, i haven’t thought about it lately.”

he nods. “okay.”

“joshua, what are you doing here?” you ask again. “what are you really doing here?”

he doesn’t remember what he tells you. what he does remember is waking up in the room he grew up in instead of his apartment, with his mother at the foot of his childhood bed, tears welling in her eyes.

“was it y/n?” she asks.

he frowns. “what?”

“when you asked what i would do if you married someone who didn’t believe in god all those years ago,” she explains, sniffling a little as she does. “were you talking about y/n?”

he doesn’t answer.

the events of the previous night catch up to him, and he remembers where he is—where his life is. he’s a handful of days from watching you marry someone else. he’s a handful of days from losing the one person he’s ever fallen in love with to someone else.

and all joshua has to show for it is his goddamn faith, and suddenly, for the first time since he asked his mother that question, he’s not sure it was worth it. because either way, he knows he’ll be devoted to you until the day he dies; he might as well have had you by his side all this time.

he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. when he fails, he can’t help the sobs that begin to rack his body.

he buries the heel of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars.

“she’s marrying him,” he groans through his sobs. “she’s marrying him, mom.”

“oh, joshua. i know.” he feels his mom’s hand squeeze his leg. “oh, baby, i’m so sorry.”

“i can’t do this. i can’t do it,” he wheezes, feeling like his lungs are collapsing under the weight of his ribs. “why did i do this? i can’t do this.”

she doesn’t try to convince him he can do this. she doesn’t try to argue that he didn’t do anything wrong. she doesn’t tell him to calm down. she collects him in her arms and she holds him, comforting him the way only a mother knows how to.

when he starts to calm down, she kisses the crown of his head.

“the pain you must’ve endured all this time. i’m so sorry, joshua. if i had known who you were talking about, i would’ve said something entirely different.”

he untangles himself from her embrace to look at his mother. “what do you mean?”

she wipes at her own tear-stained cheeks before cupping her son’s face. “oh, sweetheart. it’s y/n. you grew up with her. i know her like i would my own daughter.”

his mother shakes her head and joshua feels like he sees all his regret mirrored in her face. she pulls him to sit against the wall his bed is pushed up against, joining him as they both stare out the opposite window.

“there are some people who lead godly lives without even knowing it,” she informs him. “you say she doesn’t believe in god, but i don’t believe you.” his stomach lurches. “that girl has lived as godly a life as you and i have. she doesn’t need to be catholic to do that, baby. you know her. there isn’t a single universe where that girl would’ve led you away from your faith.”

joshua stammers now. “but… i…”

“all the sundays she tagged along for mass with us because she just wanted to be with her best friend when she could’ve been out on the playgrounds,” his mother begins listing. “she always respectfully bowed her head when we prayed before meals even though we both knew she wasn’t praying.”

his head is reeling now. is it possible he rewrote his own memories? could he have created his own narrative of what life with you would look like?

“remember when you were both 14 and she learned what lent was? she tried giving up soda and ended up crying, begging me for forgiveness when she forgot and accidentally had coke with her school lunch.”

his mother’s shoulders shake with nostalgic laughter.

“you would’ve thought i was god the way that girl wailed,” she reminisces. she sighs in the silence that follows. “joshua, my son. some people… they show you they love god in a way different than we do, and it’s my fault i never properly taught you that.”

he turns his head to look at her but her gaze remains trained on the window. he sees now that it’s not his regret she mirrors but her own.

“i think i was too preoccupied with ensuring i raised you to be a good, catholic man—too preoccupied with making sure you didn’t become anything like your father.”

he breathes in deeply and returns his focus to the window.

“but i should’ve made it clear. i should’ve shown you that god exists in all the little acts of love we give and receive. i should’ve shown you that organized religion isn’t the only marker of faith.” she pauses, taking a shaky breath. “maybe then you would’ve recognized y/n as a woman of god. maybe then you wouldn’t be so hurt now.”

the words are enough to make joshua even more nauseous than his hangover is already making him.

“y/n… she shows godliness in the way she respects you and your beliefs. she shows it in the way she supports and loves you through every season of your life. it’s unfair to say she isn’t good enough for you because her faith lies in a different place.”

“i never thought she wasn’t good enough for me,” he interjects quickly. his mom doesn’t argue that, simply nodding. “she’s perfect. i just… i thought we were incompatible.”

“and maybe you are,” she agrees.

she doesn’t need to say it out loud; they both know what comes next. but now you’ll never know.

“i just wanted to apologize,” his mom tells him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. “i feel like i’ve failed you.”

“you haven’t, mom,” he says quietly. “i failed me.”

“we’ll agree to disagree,” she announces, making him smile a little. “but i’m sorry anyway. there are a lot of things i’d change now if i could.”

he feels the familiar tightness in his chest. it’s his companion at this point, the heartbreak. “me too, mom. me too.”

joshua played with your hair from where he was laying on your couch. you were sitting criss-cross in front of him on the floor, clicking through netflix and trying to find a movie you both wanted to watch.

"is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?" he suddenly asked you. you frowned at the abrupt question, setting the remote down on the floor.

"that's random."

"just curious," he murmured softly, like he was so relaxed he was about to fall asleep.

"hmm," you hummed in thought, resting your head back so you could stare at the ceiling. he adjusted your hair so it fell over his lap. "like what, some kind of miracle that can only be explained by god?"

he shrugged. "sure. whatever."

"probably not..." you answered with hesitation. "i can't really think of a kind of miracle that would have me questioning god, though."

"like, if someone you loved were given a terminal diagnosis—three months to live. and suddenly, their illness clears up with no explanation. even doctors are astounded. what would you think?"

you shrugged. "i would be too happy they're not dying to question how it happened." he blew out a breath of exasperation. "okay, okay," you laughed, trying to figure out a more definite answer for him. "no, i don't think there's anything that could happen. it just seems too convenient that there's someone out there in charge of everyone's lives."

he nodded along but said nothing. you fidgeted in the silence. the quiet wasn't something the two of you ever shied from; it was always comfortable with joshua. for some reason, you felt awkward. so you kept talking to fill the silence.

"i think i could be open to believing something, though," you admitted honestly. "i just don't want to get to a place where i would blame this... thing or person for the things going wrong in my life. but that's just me. i still love that people believe so strongly in it. faith is a beautiful thing."

joshua taught you that. faith withstood a lot of things, and your best friend was the prime example. nothing was quite as beautiful as his love for his religion, his god, his spirituality. even if it scared you sometimes—even if it unintentionally made you feel too small to be someone lucky enough to have joshua's heart—you knew it was still precious.

"would you marry someone religious?"

you snorted. "where are these questions coming from?"

"indulge me."

you sighed, closing your eyes and enjoying the way his fingers carded through your hair. "that's so hard to answer without knowing who it is. it depends on the person. i can't make a decision based solely on how religious they are."

"okay, i guess that's fair." he paused. "would you ever convert for someone?"

"i don't think so?" you said, hating how unsure you sounded answering all of these questions. "but who knows? i really can't say for sure without knowing who it is, shua. how about you? would you marry someone who wasn't religious?"

your heart pounded at the silence that followed.

"it depends on the person," he finally said with a playful tone.

you rolled your eyes. "exactly."

"alright, what about kids?"

"shua, why are you interrogating me right now?"

he snickered. "i'm having a conversation with my best friend. is that not allowed?"

you lifted your head and turned to glare at him, your hair slipping between his fingers. he dropped his hand now that he had nothing to play with. he raised his eyebrows at you slightly.

"of course it's allowed," you scoffed. "it's just... so out of nowhere."

"well?" he prodded, ignoring your comments.

"okay, what about kids?" you relented.

"would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?"

you laughed. "so much religion talk tonight."

he didn't dignify that with a response.

you groaned, again having no idea. if you took all these questions and made them about joshua, they would be a million times easier to answer. but he wasn't asking about himself, he was asking about some faceless, nameless nobody, and you weren't invested enough to answer accurately.

"i don't know... if it's important to my partner, then of course i would consider it," you finally said. "but i guess i'd be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves."

"that's wise," he remarked.

"mhm, sure" you hummed. "can we watch a movie now? i'll even let you choose an anime if you stop asking questions that make me sweaty."

he smirked and nodded. "okay, come up here, though."

you joined him on the couch and you spent the rest of the night binging anime episodes. you wouldn't be able to say what you watched, though, because the entire time, your mind was stuck on what the answers would've been if they were about joshua.

the end is long and beautiful.

you marry kwon soonyoung in front of all your loved ones, and you do it knowing full well this man will give you the happiest life. you spend the night eating the food you both painstakingly chose together, dancing to songs recommended by your guests on their RSVPs, and laughing so hard, tears stream down both of your faces.

and when you sidle up to your best friend as he leans on the bar, waiting for his drink, he has the strength to look happy for you. you’re sure he isn’t. at least not quite all the way.

“i’m happy you’re happy, y/n.”

you smile. “thank you, shua.” you pause, tilting your head a little in thought. you add: “for everything.”

“what’s everything?” he asks, smiling in confusion.

“for everything... for being my best friend all this time. loving me like you did. letting me love you," you list, ignoring the way his eyes widen at you. "most of all, i guess i just want to thank you for everything you gave up so we could be here,” you finish before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. you pull away, cupping his face, and smiling. “i’ll never forget it. thank you.”

you’re swept back onto the dance floor by your bridesmaids. it was a short exchange, but you know it was enough.

you’re not dumb. you knew what joshua had to give up so you could be here, happy, in love, and with the man perfect for you.

everything. he had to give up everything. he chose his devotion to god over his devotion to you, and you never faulted him for that because you knew it was a decision that would destroy him, and maybe it did at one point, having to bury his love as deep as he did.

you didn’t believe heaven was real, and still, he chose to love you until it hurt like hell and you knew it. there might have been a younger version of you that was heartbroken he couldn’t possibly imagine a life with you where you were capable of supporting his beliefs wholeheartedly regardless of yours. because you would have. you would have done everything in your power to make him feel loved while keeping his door to his god wide open.

there might have been a younger version of you that would’ve hated him for this.

but tonight, as you slow dance with your husband, feeling the safest you’ve felt in your entire life, all you can do is thank joshua hong for all the choices he made without asking you first.

ironically, because of him, you can see god now. you can see god in the way soonyoung holds you like you’re the most precious person in his life. you can see god in his patience and care. in his kindness. in his dedication to making you smile and laugh.

you’ve never seen god in a clearer light.

you think back to your last, honest night with joshua, on that deserted street, when he drunkenly called you.

“what are you really doing here?”

“i’m mourning,” he answered. “i’m mourning the life we could’ve had.” he frowned as tears began to fall down your face. “don’t cry. i don’t want to make you sad. i’m okay, i promise. i’ll be okay. i’m just letting you go now... for real this time.” he hiccuped. "for real, for real."

“you didn’t have to, you know,” you whispered.

“i think i did.”

you got him to his mother’s home that night, not wanting him to wake up alone with the weight of his sadness. you didn’t exchange many words, but you knew she knew. she hugged you, told you she was happy for you and soonyoung, and she looked at you for several, long seconds. you felt like she could see right through you because she probably could—she always did.

“you’ll always have him.”

“and he’ll always have me.”

“i know.”

the end is long and beautiful, and it’s simultaneously the best and the most devastating night of your life.

but your lives go on, and you and joshua both find what keeps you warm at night, and you hold onto it for as long as you can.

and you’re okay with that. you hope he is too.

[peachyparkerr]

to be so lonely | patrick zweig x female reader

or marrying patrick zweig out of convenience <3

tags: fluff, marriage, kissing, talks of having kids, best friends to more, no use of y/n, not proofread so sorry but not, soft patrick because ik that man just needs some love and josh o'connor is softie and i said so

˳༄꠶ a little self indulgent fic because challengers nation will never die.

you'd like to tell yourself that you'd find someone to marry when there was a right person to marry. you'd also like to tell yourself that you weren't in a rush and you were perfectly fine being single or dating casually til that came. but of course, that wasn't good enough for your parents who were just itching to get you married off. they just wanted you to be taken care of, and they were so insistent on introducing you to some of their friends' sons, "just a few" they said. you didn't have the heart to tell them no.

that's how you find yourself here. hiding out in your childhood bedroom after talking to the umpteenth "eligible" bachelor from yet another, you'd lost count, party thrown by your parents just for this reason. these "eligible" bachelors weren't exactly the type of husband you were looking for. they were all full of themselves, too caught up in their jobs or alcohol, or just looking for a wife for the sake of being able to say they had one. you were getting fed up, and didn't know how many more men you could stomach talking to before your parents ended up arranging a marriage for you. that's why you were hiding up here, sitting on your bed, trying to wait out the party. anything to get a moment to breathe.

your solitude didn't last long until your door was opening. you hadn't expected to be found, but before you could stumble out whatever excuse came first as to why you were up there, you were met by the sight of a familiar tall, dark haired man appearing in your room. your childhood best friend and next door neighbor flashes his signature grin at you, and suddenly you can't help but feel so relieved.

"if it isn't the guest of honor. shouldn't you be entertaining another private equity investor?" patrick says, sporting his familiar smirk back at you, closing the door behind him.

"that or drowning out the sound of their voice by downing champagne." you laugh.

"oh you mean to tell me you're not fawning over these idiots? i'm shocked." he laughs sarcastically before sitting next to you on your bed. you make room for him and he settles him arm around you. "at least your parents are trying to give you options, i'll be lucky if i meet my future wife before they walk down the aisle."

"as if you're not meeting tons of women when you're playing tennis." you point out, poking his side.

"none that i like, none that i want to marry, and none that my parents would approve of anyway." he huffs. "call me crazy, but ideally i don't want to be married off to someone who just wants my money or my parents money."

"i get it. i have no interest in being a trophy wife yet that seems like all these guys my parents are trying to marry me off to. something just for show. is true love really that dead?" you sigh.

"maybe we just haven't found the right people yet." he says as he leans his head back against the headboard looking at you, waiting to see what you're going to say next.

"at least that's what i'm telling myself. i'm practically an old maid already. it's not long before i'm going to die alone, with no one to love me."

he scoffs at that. "now you're just being dramatic. you're not going to die alone, you're a catch."

"sure i am. that's why i'm only being offered up to assholes." you roll your eyes at his statement. you're being a little self deprecating, but you've had a long night. many nights, just like this one, in fact.

"anyone would be lucky to have you." he says, his expression serious looking down at you.

"in theory, sure, but...and I'm only saying this to you because you're my best friend... i'm genuinely afraid that no one's going to want to ever be with me and that i'll never find someone that values me enough to treat me like i'm actually deserving of love." you admit sadly, looking away from him and at your hands in your lap.

he moves from next to you to in front of you and forces your chin up to look at him.

"you are the smartest, kindest, and most beautiful person i know. you are deserving of the best love there is to offer. whoever marries you is the luckiest person in the world, hell i'd even marry you." he laughs but something in patrick's eyes almost has you convinced that he means every thing he says.

"you're just saying you'd marry me to make me feel better." you contradict but you can't help but feel your face flush at the way he spoke about you.

"i'm not because everything i said is true, and I know if I called my mom right now and told her I was marrying you she would cry tears of joy if it meant she gets to have you as a daughter in law. and now that i think about it..." his expression turns serious as he considers his next words but then he smiles big and genuine, "we should get married. for real."

"patrick, your mom has been pushing for us to get married since we were twelve, don't go joking around like that." you think he's being crazy and messing around like he always does.

"it's not a joke." his tone is serious but he's smiling. "why shouldn't we get married? we know each other better than anyone else, our parents would stop trying to set us up with horrible people, you get a husband and i get a wife. we won't die alone because we'd have each other."

"you're ridiculous. you're asking me to marry you, you realize that right?" you're completely taken aback by this. he's your best friend, has been since you guys were five years old, and suddenly he's propositioning you to marry him.

"i know i'm ridiculous, but you would be too if you turn me down. come on," he pulls your legs over his lap and scoots closer to you on the bed, grabbing your hands, "marry me. it's the best option."

you search his eyes for any sign of a lie. there is none.

"you're serious? you want to get married just because it's convenient? what are people gonna say about our fake marriage?" you question but your heart is just about beating out of your chest.

"not just because it's convenient. you're everything to me, and if marrying you means that i get to spend telling my best friend that every single day and making her feel like she's the universe's greatest gift to earth for the rest of my life, because she is, then why not? who cares if it's fake? nobody has to know anything other than that reason as an explanation of why we're getting married." he makes air quotations around fake but he's speaking tenderly.

"you don't even have a ring." you point out matter of factly, but you're smiling, and he is too because he knows that he's got you right where he wants you.

"i can get you a ring by tomorrow afternoon. but i'm assuming that's a yes? you gonna let me make you my wife?" he teases leaning in close.

"okay. i'll marry you patrick zweig." you smile and he throws his head back in celebration before kissing the top of your head.

you guys laugh in disbelief in what you guys just agreed to, but spend the rest of the party hiding up in your room talking about how you're gonna tell your parents and what your guys' wedding is gonna look like.

˳༄꠶

patrick keeps his word and shows up to your apartment with a ring the next day. you don't know how he managed to get the most beautiful ring you've ever seen in one day. you're in even more shock that it's exactly what you've always wanted. he slides it onto your finger with ease, and he's not surprised that it's a perfect fit. he thinks to himself that this ring he got for you looks right on your finger, like it's always belonged there. he intertwines your hands after, pressing a kiss to your knuckles wordlessly, before leading you to his car to take you to tell your guys' parents the news.

he doesn't leave your side the whole time, keeping a hand or an arm on you as if he can't be without touching you. your guys' parents cry tears of joy, like he said they would, and you play your part as the perfect fiancé with ease as they invite more and more people over to celebrate.

the parents don't hesitate to throw themselves into wedding planning and throw more parties in preparation. it's a lot really quick, but you don't seem to mind. he sees the way you light up looking through dumb magazines with your mom or how you smile when his dad breaks out pictures of patrick you'd never seen before. it makes patrick forget this is all technically fake.

patrick convinces you to move in with him shortly after. you try to protest, but he's already made the space for you.

"i can take over the guest room you know."

"no way. what kind of husband would i be if i made you take over that room? there's plenty of space here. besides, what will our parents think? we're supposed to be madly in love." he rolls his eyes as he insists, gesturing to the huge bed he has and the empty spots in his closet, but is trying to push down the thoughts of what it'll be like to have you close every night for what's supposed to be the rest of your lives.

"i'm just saying that as far as fake marriages go i wouldn't mind if you wanted me to sleep in the other room." you say with your hands on your hips, but sometimes saying out loud that it is a fake marriage, reminding you that it's not technically real, makes your stomach twist.

"but i want you here. i don't want you to sleep in the other room." he says with a pout, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. how could you say no now?

you don't put up a fight anymore, and he helps you put your stuff where it now belongs. when you go to sleep at night you both stick to your own sides. it stays that way for the first couple of months of living together, til one night you sleepily curl into him because you're cold and you can't sleep and he doesn't have thick enough blankets. he pulls you close because he runs warm, you fall asleep right away, with him falling asleep soon after. he's never slept better.

when you guys pick your wedding venue with both your moms there, he knows its the one from the way your eyes follow every detail and you hang onto every word of the tour. how you start to walk ahead of him and get excited. you finally turn to ask him what he thinks, but he's just about finished writing out the check for the deposit and handing it over to the person in charge. when he catches you looking at him, you smile and practically jump into his arms and kiss his cheek. he's never seen you so happy, and he's failing at fighting the way he's turning red.

˳༄꠶

after that the wedding starts to get closer and theres barely any time alone with all the celebrations and meetings and planning. sure, you guys get a moment to breathe back at your now shared place but usually fall asleep as soon as you get home these days. luckily, there is one fleeting moment where you guys escape to your childhood room once again.

your sat in his lap facing him as he sits up against the headboard, just trying to enjoy peace and quiet. he likes having you close like this, even if its supposed to be fake. you don't question it because part of you wants to believe he's always been touchy and you're still best friends. best friends that happen to be getting married.

after some time you remember something and sit up straighter.

"i almost forgot, i have something for you." you say breaking the silence and reaching over to your bedside table.

"you have something for me?" he asks curiously, his hands finding your waist to steady you. he watches as you pull a small box out and hold it out to him.

"open it." you instruct with a smile.

he raises an eyebrow at you, but you usher him to open it, and he can't resist you so he reluctantly pulls his hands away from your hips to take the box and open it. when he does, inside are cufflinks. but instead of ordinary ones, they're engraved, with his initials and yours. he feels his heart clench in his chest.

"wow...these are really nice." he manages to breathe out. it's the most thoughtful gift he's ever gotten from anyone.

"i thought you could wear them on the day you know and whenever you have special tennis events? i know we have wedding bands and you got me an engagement ring but i wanted to get you something special. something just for you." you say a little shy. he's done so much for you, and you guys aren't really ones to talk about feelings, but this can say more than words can.

"i love them." he says. i love you. he thinks.

you smile and he smiles back and you think that you could just kiss him right then and there. but before you can even finish the thought and convince yourself that you're making the right choice by not acting on it, suddenly your mom is calling you from downstairs to come help her with something. you both groan, but he tells you to go anyways. when you're gone, his heart is still beating out of his chest.

that night at your shared place when you're getting into bed he's quiet. he's beating himself up inside about how much he's in love with you and he can't say because this whole thing about fake marriage was his idea but he's going to marry you anyway and pretend everything's fine and have to be okay with that. how he should be bothered by questions like when are you guys gonna get a bigger place or have kids because it's way too soon, but he wants those things with you. he wants someone thats the best parts of both of you and looks like the perfect little mini version.

but of course you notice he's quiet. he's usually more outspoken, cocky and cracking jokes.

"are you okay?" you ask tentatively from your side, turning to him.

"oh... fine. just tired. " he faces you and the way you look at him so concerned, so caring, has him burning up, especially with the way he's lying through his teeth.

you reach out to him when you see how flushed he is, and you put the back of your hand on him to feel him and he's burning up. he burns up more, and you can't tell if you are too.

"you're burning up...maybe you're getting sick?" you're so concerned and you don't know if he's actually sick or if its something you did.

"maybe...i'm fine, though, really." he lies again.

"do you want me to sleep in the other room?" you suggest, not because you want to though, because not sleeping next to him almost is worse than him possibly being sick, but because you don't want to make anything worse.

"no!" he says a little too quickly and sharp. but he tries to cover it up. "stay."

you just nod and pull him close. he lets you, and immediately buries his head in your neck and breathes in the scent of your freshly washed hair. he's supposed to be strong and not so clingy like this, but the way he holds you tightly and instead of pulling away you rub his back makes him feel so weak.

you don't know what's wrong, and you don't want to make it worse or ask, so you just stay like that.

"you're okay. i got you, pat." you speak soft and sweet in his ear. and he believes you because he'd believe anything you'd say.

˳༄꠶

for the sake of tradition, you guys don't sleep in the same room the night of the rehearsal dinner/night before the wedding. and knowing this, you can't seem to keep hands off of each other the whole night. holding hands, his arm around your waist, your head resting on his shoulder. how are you guys are gonna kiss for the first time at the end of the aisle in front of all these people tomorrow and not lose your damn minds?

when parting ways for the night he hugs you tight, as if he's afraid he'll never see you again. he's also so nervous, not because he doesn't want to get married to you, but because how is he going to spend the rest of his life loving you and not tell you?

you hug him back just as tight, not wanting to admit you won't get any sleep without him next to you tonight.

"see you at our first look tomorrow." you say as you're about to part ways for the night.

"i can't wait to see your dress. do i get any hints on what it looks like?" he tries to joke to ease his aching heart.

"it's white." you joke back and laugh. he laughs too and you think it's the best sound in the whole world.

you guys reluctantly part ways, and as predicted, neither of you sleep a wink the whole night without each other.

tomorrow comes, and after he's all ready, he's shaking and fiddling with his cufflinks waiting for you to come out for the first look. and when he finally sees you walking towards him, he actually thinks his heart is going to explode.

you keep getting closer and your holding your breath but looking at nothing but him. and when you get closer his jaw actually goes slack.

"hi." you say softly and smile when his jaw is still dropped. you gently close it for him, and he melts a little

"hi. you look... wow... you're perfect." he manages to croak out, his voice suddenly stuck in his throat. you're always beautiful to him, but today, he swears he's seen an angel.

"i like your suit." you compliment and fix his bowtie for him hoping he can't see how your own hands are shaking. but he takes his hands and yours and looks at you for what feels like a long time until you realize he hasn't said anything. "what?"

"i love you." he blurts out. he barely realizes he's said it, but when he does his eyes widen and so do yours. he doesn't take it back tho. he just stares into your eyes and hopes you understand how much he really means it.

"you love me?" you whisper in disbelief. is this really happening?

"i love you. i'm in love with you." he confirms, trying to read your expression to see if you feel the same, if you're still going to go through with this wedding or if he's screwed it all up.

"i love you too. i'm in love with you too. " you admit quietly, feeling your mouth curve up into a smile.

he lets out a breath finally, and feels tears prick at his eyes and fall down his cheeks. you wipe them away.

"god, you have no idea how long i've wanted to say that." he rests his forehead against yours and pulls you close.

"great timing." you joke, putting your hands on his face. he laughs and you can feel his breath on your lips.

it feels like a weight has been lifted off both of your chests now that this is out in the open. suddenly you're both leaning in and your lips are inches away. he's cupping your jaw now, your eyes are locked on his. and when your guys' lips meet in a kiss for the first time in your entire lives, its soft and full of months of desire and unspoken feelings. it's reverent and its yours. he momentarily deepens the kiss, pulling you even closer if that's even possible, and you lose yourself in the passion before finally coming up for air. you're both grinning and out of breath but couldn't have asked for anything more.

and when you reach the end of the aisle a few short moments later, and he kisses you again, you both get to relish in the fact that this is real. that true love isn't dead and that the right person for them was right in front of them this entire time and will be for the rest of their lives.

i haven't written a fic in YEARS but i had a bad day today so #yea

art fanfic here!

[kumkaniudaku]

At Last: Part One

Summary: Patrice returns home to celebrate a birthday and a new beginning.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: None

In a little corner of Wilmington, NC, tucked behind towering Spanish moss trees and sprawling acres of lush green grass, the Habersham family were monarchs on ancestral turf. 

Enslaved Sierra Leonean men and women had tilled this land long before Patrice was a twinkle in her mother and father’s eyes. They hoped, prayed, and danced for a future where babies far down their lineage could have a place to visit for a connection to their love and guidance beyond the physical realm. According to some, their spirits still roamed the fields once holding them captive in great triumph.

Long-held West African customs preserved and passed down over time had transformed into the uniquely rich Gullah culture that still governed the eldest generation of Habershams and their children. While much of the language patterns had been lost, Sybil Habersham-Lewis and her baby sister, Rosalyn, worked tirelessly to keep the family home tidy and traditions alive. 

They never hesitated to tell stories of how their great-grandfather rebuilt the big house with his bare hands to rid his offspring of a torrid legacy from a man he reluctantly called father. They sometimes laughed about how he, a fair-skinned man with green eyes and a mean streak, met and married a slender songstress with blue-black skin within six months of laying eyes on her. Paul and Efua produced eight children in that home. Those eight children created a line of movers and shakers that stretched far and wide. 

One of those movers and shakers stared out of the passenger side window with eyes wide as saucers and a smile that rivaled the sun, watching trees donning brown, red, and orange leaves whiz past on the way to her favorite place in the world. Patrice was itching to get out of the car and kick her shoes off to feel the soft tickle of damp Bermuda grass between her toes. She longed to see her uncle’s horses, eat fresh seafood until her stomach ached, and recap moments in her girlhood with her cousins. She couldn’t wait to kiss Nana's face 95 times for her 95th birthday. She needed to smell the blue hydrangeas in her auntie’s garden. She needed to be home.

Terry stole glances at Patrice, finding joy in her enthusiasm. She hadn’t slept a wink the night before or in the nearly two-hour ride from Fayetteville. He knew she’d tucker out eventually, but seeing her brimming with unbridled happiness made his heart swell. 

“God, I hope my auntie made okra. Oooh and crab cakes. I haven’t had any in so long!”

Terry listened to the way her accent slurred and shortened words in rapid succession with a smile. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to understand you by the end of the weekend.” 

“You’ll be lucky to keep up past tonight.” she laughed. "My granny ‘dem Geechee tuh de bone."

“Y’all make everything sound like music. I like it.” 

“If you tell Moon Pie that, she might try to take you from me.” 

“You gon’ let her?” 

“Hell nah. I’ll whoop her ass. She ain’t crazy.” 

The thought of having to put hands on her cousin behind her man made Patrice scowl while Terry let off a loud, shoulder-shaking cackle. Though she was serious as a heart attack, she laughed along with him to release the tension building in her muscles. 

Terry reached across the center console to gently rub her arm before playfully caressing her chin to pull a smile from her lips. 

“No way I’d let you fight as pretty as you are. Plus, we’re celebrating all weekend. If you aren’t smiling from tonight ‘til Sunday, I didn’t do my job.” 

Patrice’s mouth twisted into a suspicious smirk. “And what’s your job? You know, if someone were to ask for a friend.”

“Keeping you happy.” His cheeky quip made her eyes roll as she kissed her teeth. 

For over a week Terry had been tight lipped about something Patrice couldn’t put her finger on. She’d tried to catch him in a fib or make him slip up and share whatever details existed behind hushed calls and unmarked deliveries. But, Terry was notorious for keeping secrets under lock and key. Whatever he was planning would sneak up on her like a thief in the night. 

“You nervous to meet everyone?” Patrice questioned to change the subject.

“Nah, I’m good.” He cut his eyes in Patrice’s direction and smiled when he found her already eying him skeptically. “Think I’m lying?” 

“Yeah, I think you’re full of shit. Either that or you’re truly unaware of how crazy my folks are. No way you aren’t a little concerned.” 

He shrugged. “I’m not too worried. I love you, so I know I’ll love them. We’ll figure out the parts in the middle.” 

Everything Terry knew about Patrice, in his mind, was a beautiful amalgamation of those who had a hand in raising her into the woman she’d grown into. He knew her mother and how the two shared the same heart for community service. From her father, she’d inherited an uncanny ability to stop a whole room from speaking with only a raised eyebrow. Though he’d only heard stories of her grandmother, he could tell that her independent nature was a founding feature. And, if those things could make his heart turn flips with one look across a crowded room, he’d have no trouble making space for his bonus family. 

Patrice tried to formulate a counterpunch to Terry’s levelheaded assessment of the situation but had a change of heart as smooth asphalt transitioned into the familiar crunch of gravel beneath her car’s tires. 

Black iron gates adorned with an ornate H were pulled open, giving anyone casually walking by a peak into an almost mythical land. Terry’s eyes darted from place to place, lingering on the hanging moss trees lining their path, then on the children gleefully chasing each other through fallen leaves around a small white gazebo, before landing on a magnificent wrap-around porch serving as a gathering spot for elder men taking inventory of fishing equipment for an early morning trip to catch the evening’s meal. The Big House, as Patrice affectionately called it, was a modern marvel, an oasis for every hue of black man, woman, and child with Habersham blood in their veins to feel like they were somebody in an otherwise cruel world. 

“Beautiful, ain’t it? Auntie did her thing with the last renovation.” Patrice asked, beaming as she started to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Incredible. Is this al-” 

Whatever was left of Terry’s awe-inspired sentence was swept into the wind as Patrice hopped from the passenger seat and onto the concrete driveway before the car could come to a full stop. 

Like a child finally released from the confines of their classroom onto the playground for 30 minutes of recess freedom, she hit the ground in a slight jog to greet a woman about her age skipping down the porch steps to meet her halfway. 

“Imani,” Patrice hollered, her arms already outstretched in anticipation of a hug. 

Imani called her name back with equal excitement until the two women were joined in a tight embrace. Terry watched from afar, a warm smile tugging his lips to one side as he shut off the engine and exited the vehicle. 

The two women rocked side to side until they’d had their fill of one another. Imani pulled away first to get a look at her favorite baby cousin. 

“My girlfrieeend,” she sang, imitating the theme song from the only show they watched for a full summer in their teens. “You look so good. The skin, the hair, the body! It’s all working right now.” 

“Me? Look at you! I know for a fact this caftan is from like Paris or Bali or somewhere crazy.” 

“Oh you know, just a little somethin’ custom from London. Not too much, not too much.” 

“How you stand it there with that nasty looking food is beyond me, girl.” 

Imani laughed. “That’s for them other folks. People that look like us know where to get a good meal. You oughta come see me sometime. Book a flight and let me worry about the rest.” 

“Next summer?” 

“I’ll throw it on my calendar. Bring Mister Man, too.” 

Patrice didn’t need to turn around to know that Terry had made his presence known. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her lower back as he joined her side. 

If he hadn’t known her for nearly two decades, Terry would have easily gotten Patrice and Imani confused. Both women wore glowing deep dark skin like a badge of honor, soaking up rays of sun and reflecting them in the way that only ethereal beings could. Wide noses and plump, pink and brown lips complimented impossibly high cheekbones. Beauty marks at the corners of opposite eyes might possibly be a tell-tale sign if one could fight being lulled into a trance by the sheer grace they both possessed. The only difference was Imani’s slight height advantage and low, ash blonde haircut.

“Wow,” he whispered, the words catching him by surprise. He shook his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I just - y’all are damn near twins.” 

“Don’t I know it,” they spoke in unison. 

Patrice took over after a chuckle. “They used to call us Frick and Frack. Mostly because they couldn’t always tell who was who.”

“Which Petey over here never wanted to use to our advantage.” 

“Petey?” Terry questioned. 

“Wait, she never told you her nic-” 

“And, that’s enough,” Patrice hollered, purposely eclipsing Imani’s voice to keep her cousin from going further. “Terrence, this Imani. Imani this is Terrence, my man.” 

Terry could feel a bolt of lightning surge through his body as he reached out to shake Imani’s hand. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what Patrice might call him in a simple introduction. He’d always given her a treasure trove of titles - his lady, the love of his life, maybe his wife one day if the Lord willed it so. He’d introduced her so much that they never explored how the inverse would work. But hearing himself be proudly referred to as her’s was a shock to the system that he hadn’t prepared for but welcomed all the same. 

Imani waved his outstretched hand away and pulled him in for a hug. “Boy, we family. Come here and get this squeeze.”

Like an old friend, Imani pulled Terry into a welcoming hug. Patrice looked on with a silent thanks to God. If what she knew of her cousin still held weight, they’d be fast friends and thick as thieves by the end of the weekend. 

Pulling away, she lightly tapped his chest and looked at Patrice. “I can’t believe I finally get to meet Terry Richmond in person. You’re basically her Nelly!” she laughed, recalling Patrice’s near obsession with St. Louis and their hometown hero after Hot in Herre debuted. Patrice rolled her eyes while Terry and Imani held on to each other through loud laughter.

“Got damn, Moanie, hold ‘em hostage why don’t you! You ain’t the only person they know ‘round here.” 

“Hey, Daddy!” 

“Hey, Baby Girl!”

The perfectly timed distraction took Patrice’s attention away long enough for the newest tandem to exchange hushed conversation.

“Yeah, but I’m the best!” Imani hollered back before winking at Terry and Patrice. “Go on. I’ll have the boys get y’all’s stuff. Make sure you get to the kitchen. Think Mama’s got some pound cake cut for you.”

The mention of other family members awaiting their arrival was a quick reminder that Terry had barely scratched the surface of new faces and connections. Every direction he turned presented another opportunity to be pulled into a spirited handshake or warm hug. 

With the men in her life, he was immediately received with masculine equivalents of praise for his physical form.

“Son, you look like ya 'bout tuh buss out dat shirt 'round ya arms. Petey, you don’t have to worry ‘bout no protection, huh?” was Uncle PJ’s way of saying he was confident in Terry’s ability to keep Patrice safe. 

“You comin’ out fishin’? Country boy like you probably catch catfish with your bare hands!” 

“Where you from?”

“Where your people from?” 

“They white? How you get them green eyes?”

“You got kids? You sure?” 

“You know you got some ears on you, don’t ya!”

Patrice’s father, Leon, interjected to save Terry from an increasingly invasive dive into his personal history. “Don’t answer none of that. But I would like you to come out on the water with us. Have a beer or two so we can finish that conversation from the other week.” 

“Y’all talking about me behind my back?” 

“Hell, I do,” Junior laughed. “She aggravating, bruh. You can say it. Go ‘head.”

“You better not.” 

Patrice playfully poked a perfectly manicured finger into Terry’s chest to force his silence, earning a chaste kiss on the forehead. Junior scoffed and sipped from his half-empty bottle of water.

“T, you grown now. Your big ass don’t have to let her boss you no more.” 

“That’s my favorite part,” Terry answered, finally speaking up for himself. “She sweet when she wanna be.”

“I ain’t seen it.”

“Because I don’t like you, Junior. How many times do we have to go over this?”

Terry tried to contain his wide grin from watching the siblings bicker like old times. He’d been in the middle of many a verbal tussle between them, always stepping in as the voice of reason. He still held the role of peacemaker all these years later. 

“She loves you, man. Still keeps your room up and everything.” 

Leon shook his head at his children’s antics. “Good thing you here. I couldn’t take that shit this weekend.” He pointed at the passenger seat of his truck and the open lunch box resting in it. “So, you comin’. Got food for you if you wanna ride.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Terry started before looking toward the house at the small audience of women crowding at the kitchen window. They scattered when he caught their gaze, making him laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. “Give us a few minutes. I think there’s some people inside I gotta meet first.” 

“Good luck, man. I would say you got five minutes but we both know that ain’t happening. We’ll wait a bit.”

With one trial by fire ending, another began. In their short walk to the front porch, Patrice had given Terry opportunities to gracefully bow out of the incoming circus and take her father’s invitation as a get out of hell free card. He’d refused every effort with a kind smile and unfounded reassurance that everything would be okay. In his mind, he’d hug a few necks, kiss a few cheeks, and be out of dodge before anyone could hold him long. 

Stepping into the home’s foyer felt like being in a museum. Photos of Habersham descendants living and passed on to Glory lined the hallway as a reminder of their history on this land. Eyes that carried an array of stories looked back at him, leaving goosebumps across his arms. Especially once he landed on a young woman with a familiar half-smile encased behind an antique picture frame. 

Patrice noticed him stop short to give the photo his full attention. 

“My great-great-great grandma,” she informed, adding extra emphasis on the final ‘great’. “Efua. Nana says she was barely bigger than the kids but ran this place with an iron fist. I believe it. She look like she don’t play.” 

“She looks kinda like you and Imani.” 

Patrice tilted her head to get a better look. “Hm. I guess you’re right.”

Clamoring in the kitchen pulled them away from Efua’s watchful eye and around the corner for their grand entrance. 

Women of every age, size, and shape filled the room from wall to wall, each one participating in the cooking process. On one side, a small group of teenagers huddled to inspect bushels of greens for bugs and cut them in preparation for a proper wash. On the other, small girls shelled black-eyed peas and giggled amongst themselves over TikTok videos. But in the center of the room, where spices and fresh ingredients intermingled for an almost intoxicating aroma and conversation was the loudest, all of the cornerstones of the family gathered to share gossip and wisdom alike. 

Terry’s appearance, tall and muscled with a winning smile to match, sent a hush over even the loudest woman present. 

“Oh God,” Patrice mumbled to herself, preemptively embarrassed by the storm she knew was sure to follow. 

Someone whistled. Then came a low “mm-mm-mm” from an auntie fighting hard to contain herself. Terry let every sound and look fuel his ego for just a few seconds before speaking. 

“Hey, ladies.” 

“Hey, Terry.” 

Every voice greeted him in unison like the Angels speaking to Charlie over that old speakerphone. Patrice screwed her face and pinched his shoulder. He’d been given strict instructions the night before, but being in the moment called for an audible that immediately made him a shiny new toy to be paraded.

Before he could have any say so, Patrice’s mother was ushering him around for every aunt and cousin to say a personal hello. He charmed each woman who met his acquaintance like a seasoned politician. If nothing else, they could all hang on to the memory of meeting the long-fabled Terrence Richmond. 

But, for all the pomp and circumstance, every breath hitched once Rosalyn led Terry to matriarch. 

She wore 95 years on Earth well. Chestnut skin covered in beauty marks crinkled around her eyes as she smiled back at him. Even as she sat in her wheelchair more slight and fragile than Patrice remembered, Terry could see her inner strength shining through.

Patrice watched her mother lean down and speak something into her grandmother’s ear before directing Terry to crouch down to eye level. He did as he was told, gingerly capturing her much smaller hands in his. 

“Hi, Ms. Ida. I’m so happy to finally meet you. My name is Terrence.” 

The softness in his voice ignited a chorus of heartwarming sentiments from every corner. Patrice had become so enraptured in the meeting she never thought would happen that she nearly missed her mother directing her to join Terry’s side. 

Ida didn’t say much back to him. Instead, she slid her hand from his grasp and traced her fingertips along the perimeter of his face. She examined him from all angles with a nostalgic look in her gaze. Terry tried not to let confusion come through in his expression, but Rosalyn caught the sliver of uncertainty. 

“You remind her of somebody close, that’s all. Same eyes.” 

He’d inadvertently sent her back to her childhood, bringing back memories so deep in her mind she thought she might never get them back. Even with slightly darker skin and broader features than Paul could boast back then, Ida still saw him clear as day. And that, all those years later, made her feel more alive than ever on her 95th birthday.

Ida tapped his jaw lightly and laughed. “Mhm. Petey, this him?” 

Finally joining Terry’s side, Patrice mimicked him and knelt by her grandmother’s feet. 

“Yes ma’am. He wanted to be here for your birthday.” 

“Nice looking boy, ain’t he?” 

Patrice giggled. “He cute, I guess. I heard he got you a gift for tonight, but he won’t tell me what it is. Can you believe it?”

“Well, hell, this all the gift I need. Give me anything else and I might not make it to 96!” 

“Mama!” 

Sybil hated when her mother made jokes about death, but Terry couldn’t help but laugh. He wanted to joke with her, see what else she might say knowing that no one in the house could tell her what to do, but the loud blast of a car horn in the front yard reminded him that he’d made a prior commitment. 

Gently, he squeezed her knee and spoke loud enough for her to hear. “Now, I go gotta go catch you somethin’ for tonight. You gon’ be here when I’m back?” 

“Oh yeah,” she answered, reinvigorated and saucy like her younger self. “I’ll be dressed up real nice too. Might leave here with two gals on your arm.” 

“You know I never been the sharing type, Nana.” 

Ida smiled at Patrice, nodding in approval. “That’s my girl. Keep that up.”

A second and longer beep let Terry know that time was running out. He quickly bid the group farewell, ending on Patrice with a simple kiss on the cheek and a promise to be back soon. 

While she became swept up in a whirlwind of who, what, when, and where, Rosalyn and Sybil slipped away to speak with Terry on his way out of the door. He’d become the center of attention, even long after his scent had faded. 

“Is he the one from high school?” 

“What’s he like?” 

“Is he always this nice?” 

“Y’all shackin’ up?” 

“When y’all getting married? What about kids?”

More questions, more prying, more assumptions than she could handle. Short, vague answers weren’t enough for them. They wanted the full scoop from the young lady they once knew as a shy girl who only focused on her studies. 

Patrice answered every question with enough detail to satiate their curiosity and maintain some level of privacy in her relationship. For a moment, that was enough. They’d unveiled the mystery of Petey’s other life and could move on to more pressing matters.

They quickly shifted to discussions of other people’s business. Who’d had a baby? Who was divorcing? Who’s kids were raising hell in the community? They took a winding road filled with chats about celebrity news and politics, nonsense about music, and, Patrice’s personal favorite, the old days. 

Those chats, full of lore and laughter, always took place in Nana’s parlor. A room covered in powder pink wallpaper and situated in the corner of the home where natural sunlight welcomed any guests that had the privilege of visiting. 

The older women sat side by side, crammed on expensive armchairs and soft couches, to convene at their leisure. Patrice stood by her favorite spot beside the window with Imani sitting on her right and her grandmother positioned in front of her. On her left stood a small table holding hair grease, a fine-toothed comb, and duck bill clips to help her pincurl Ida’s shoulder length silver hair. Her favorite pastime. 

“Everyone of y’all was bad,” Sybil laughed, referring to the crop of children that came up with Patrice. “Y’all came here every summer acting a damn fool.” 

“Not me and Petey!”

“Especially you and Petey. The worst of the bunch. Just sneaky and sassy!” 

“I don’t know what you talkin’ about. All I did was read and sit up under Nana.” 

Patrice’s highly inaccurate recollection of her time in the country every year made Ida laugh in her wheelchair. “Don’t let ‘em lie on you. I never saw my baby gettin’ in no trouble.” 

“Oh yeah right!” Sybil exclaimed. “Ros, wasn’t you there when these two let all the chickens out and had us chasin’ them ‘round out back.” 

“Sure was. They had all the grown folk out there huffin’, puffin’, and ‘bout to blow the house down!” 

The room fell into laughter watching Sybil imitate the group of adults fighting to capture livestock. Patrice remembered that afternoon and tried to defend their actions. 

“Okay, that is true, but I remember that being your daughter’s idea. I was only helping my sis.” 

Imani shrugged and sat back in her seat. “You raised an activist. Those animals were in captivity.” 

“Moanie, you eat meat,” Moon Pie commented. 

“I never said they didn’t taste good. I said we were holding them captive. The circle of life is different. Now let’s talk about how Moon had us sittin’ at the eating table all night because she wouldn’t finish her Frogmore stew thinkin’ there were real frogs in it.”

“Heaven forbid a girl need proof!” 

More laughter. The kind of laughter that healed deep emotional wounds. The kind that seeped into the walls, keeping the home full of love and light. The kind that made Patrice happy to not only be home but to share a piece of her heart with the man she loved. 

While she wished he could hear the silly stories and witness the exaggerated retellings, Terry was fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for Patrice’s father to meet him at the back of his truck. 

Across the way, the other men sat in small clusters, chatting their way through a midafternoon lunch break. As much as he wanted to talk shop with them about the fate of the Carolina Panthers, there was a more meaningful matter on the table. 

Leon grunted as he closed the driver’s side door and rounded the truck’s cab. “Let that down, will you?”

Terry sprung into action quicker than he meant to, nervousness making him move at hyperspeed. Leon laughed and lifted himself onto the truck bed before handing over a small cooler. 

“Grab whatever you like. We got plenty.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Just Leon. Kinda weird to call your father-in-law sir, ain’t it? Plus that’s that fool’s name over there and he ain’t worth a damn. Lazy sumbitch.” 

“I got you. Won’t happen again,” Terry chuckled as he pulled a piece off of his turkey sandwich and popped it into his mouth. They sat in silence for a few moments to enjoy the sound of nature around them until he reignited the conversation. “I appreciate y’all agreeing to all this. Especially so quickly. I hope things don’t feel rushed.”

“You ain’t doin’ nothin’ I wouldn’t want for my girl. She need somebody willing to go above and beyond for her. I know you always have and I don’t see you slowin’ down no time soon.” 

Terry nodded, smiling. “Couldn’t if I tried.”

“I know. Moanie got the ring, right?” 

“Yeah. We worked it all out a couple weeks ago. She’s hiding it for me and keeping Treece distracted. You know she’s nosey.”

“Her mama said to call it inquisitive.” 

“Hm. Inquisitive, huh?”

They looked at each other and spoke at the same time. “Nosey.”

“That’s her,” Leon remarked. “Time’s flyin’, ain’t it? I remember when it looked like you was drowning in your clothes. Now look at you. Big as a damn tank. What they feed y’all in the Corps?” 

“Shit, nothing but slop and a hard time seasoned with a dash of casual racism from some crazy white boy outta one of the Dakotas every once in a while.”

Their shared laughter disturbed a cluster of nearby birds, making the rest of the men look in their direction. Sir threw his hands up in the air. 

“Well, damn, Leon. Gone ‘head and fuck up the catch!” 

“Or I can fuck you up instead.” He looked over at Terry struggling to keep his face neutral and shook his head. “I can’t stand his ass. Or his daughter. Or his wife. All of ‘em get on my nerves. C’mon, so we can finish up.”

As high noon gave way to early evening and the sleepiness of fall pushed the sun into the west earlier than usual, Imani and Patrice sat alone in one of the guest rooms engrossed in conversation. 

Imani was the only sister Patrice had ever known. It didn’t matter what portion of the world they occupied or how long it’d been since they last talked, they always picked up right where they left off when they were reunited. 

Patrice focused on the vanity mirror to examine Imani’s careful twists and twirls to place her thick natural hair into bantu knots.

“You think I can grow my hair out like this by January? I’m going to Ghana and I wanna switch it up a little bit.” 

“Of course. Manifest it, my sister!” 

Imani laughed as she parted out another section. “If I ever need somebody to follow up my foolishness, I know I can count on you.” 

“What Whitney said on the Waiting to Exhale soundtrack?” 

Together, they broke into song, harmonizing to breathe life into the final track from one of their favorite movie soundtracks. Imani hugged her cousin from behind and kissed her cheek. 

“I love you, girl. I miss you so much. It gets so lonely being away from home all the time.” 

“I love you, too. Life be life-ing, don’t it?” 

“All the time. I gotta make my way out to Fayetteville and spend more time with y’all. Maybe learn some more about Mister Man.” Patrice tried to hide her bashful smile, making Imani squeal behind her. “So…tell me about Terry. I know you said something downstairs but I wanna know the real scoop.” 

Patrice sighed at the mere thought of their romance. “The way I love that man, girl, I can’t even explain it. I feel like I’m going crazy.” 

“Oooooh! Swept you clean off your feet, huh?” 

“Threw me over his shoulder and hasn’t put me down since. Never in a million years did I expect to end up here with him. I mean I hoped for it, but to be here is mind-blowing. He’s so sweet, Moanie. So, gentle. Kind. More affectionate than I think I was ready for. I don’t know. I’m just in love. I’m happy.” 

“It’s all over you. I see the glow.” 

“Well, that’s from other things,” she added, a cheeky grin spreading across her face.

“Not the choir boy!” 

“Please, don’t let him fool you. Can’t keep him off me or keep his mouth closed when he gets to talking.”

Their shared laughter spilling out into the hallway became a beacon of their location for Terry as he dragged his tired legs up the stairs in search of Patrice.

His knuckles rapping against the closed bedroom door halted the private conversation until they gave him permission to enter. He slowly pushed the door open before poking his head into the room. 

“Everybody decent?” 

“Mhmm. Come on in.” Imani invited over her shoulder. She looked back at Patrice through the mirror as her cousin adjusted her clothing and sat up a little straighter in anticipation of Terry’s avalanche of affection. 

His eyes seemed to close beyond seeing clearly from the sheer force of his smile. 

“Hey, pretty.” 

“Hey, love. You have fun?” 

Terry released a dry chuckle. “Yeah. A real hoot.” 

Imani watched the young couple flirt back and forth, her hand outstretched to pass a small black velvet box from a drawer in her vanity to Terry while he kept Patrice occupied with short kisses. He secured it in one of his cargo pockets before pulling away. 

“You stink,” Patriced joked, half lying.

“I know. I still have some set-up work to do, so I’ll bring your stuff. Don’t want you to get behind on account of me.” 

“Thank you, baby. You’re so sweet.” 

Patrice captured his chin with her fingers and pulled him closer for another kiss. 

Terry lifted an eyebrow in concern. “You sick?” 

“No. I just love you.”

“I love you, too.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The way she softened her gaze to scan his face. The way the gloss on her lips caught the sun. The way every one of her perfect features was on display with her hair pulled up and away from her face. He’d never been more confident in a decision in his life and, if not for the promise he’d made to half of her immediate family, he would’ve done what he drove all the way out to Wilmington for right then and there.

Knowing time was of the essence, Imani cleared her throat and gave Terry a look to urge him along behind Patrice’s back. 

“Well, Terry, think you oughta get down there and set up a table or something, right!”

Snapping out of his trance, Terry stood to his full height to look down at Patrice. “Yeah, you're right. See you a little later?” 

“It’s a date.”

He wanted to give her one more kiss to take with him, but a final reminder for him to scram was the catalyst to push Terry out of the room and leave the ladies to readying for the evening. 

She was all he could think about as he toiled away setting up tents and placing tables exactly how Rosalyn wanted them, sometimes several times over. Even as he casually sipped strong moonshine with Junior and the younger men under lantern light, all dressed in his most pristine white to fit strict instructions, he thought about Patrice and what might look like in the dress she’d chosen. He needed to see her.

His hands were sweating inside of his pockets. He casually caressed the velvet of that small black box, occasionally flipping it open to touch the cold metal inside. Time moved painfully slow. Hunger gnawed at his empty stomach. His mother’s constant phone calls for updates and reassurance didn’t help. Nervousness made his chest hot with anxiety. 

“You gon’ be alright,” Rosalyn assured while adjusting his collar on one of her many trips around the backyard to adjust the tablescape. “Breathe. Won’t be too much longer.”

He thanked her for her kindness and prayed she was right. Or he prayed for the dream he’d written down on a random Tuesday in his creative writing journal to come true. He wasn’t sure anymore. But, when he opened his eyes and lifted his head to check that sliding glass door for the umpteenth time, there she stood amongst the Habersham women as they escorted the guest of honor arm in arm. 

Angelic was the only way he could describe her. Cosmically beautifully and capable of bringing the strongest man to his knees just by batting those long lashes. A toothy grin helped him bare each one of his teeth as he watched her saunter down the decorated pathway to the event tent with Imani in tow. 

“Happy Birthday to you,” the group sang once Ida and all her ladies had made it to the long communal table packed to the brim with food and decorations. 

They serenaded the woman responsible for much of their existence until their faces ached from the singing. She bobbed her head along to the song with a smile on her face then quieted their loud applause with a simple wave of her hand. 

“Ninety-five of those and you’d think I’d be used to it by now,” she laughed. “Thank you. Each of y’all are beautiful. Young and strong. Blood of my blood and I’m glad to have you here with me. Even the ones who just came along to spend some time with an old lady. I love you. Eat, drink, and dance ‘til you bust out your clothes. That’s alright with me! We got a lot to celebrate.”

Teary-eyed and full of gratitude, Patrice reunited with Terry at the dinner table as soon as she ensured her grandmother was comfortable. He worldlessly dabbed at her waterline with his thumb and kissed the top of her head. 

“You okay? Need to step inside for a second?” 

“No,” she answered, laughing at herself for her dramatics. “I’m just really happy. C’mon. Let’s eat.”

Eat, drink, and be merry had a whole new meaning under the soft, warm light wrapping variations of black skin in its embrace. Loud pockets of conversation and laughter made for a melodious cacophony of sounds while music played in the background. 

Patrice clung to Terry the entire time, always staying connected by a hand on his thigh or their fingers laced together beneath the table. Every once in a while, they’d break from separate conversations and catch each other’s eye and smile like schoolyard crushes sitting at the lunch table together. 

The romance in the air between them was palpable enough for Imani to pull out her phone and covertly shoot Terry a quick text. 

Dessert’s out. Do it now or they’re gonna start dancing. 

Now?

NOW!

Terry eyed Imani across the table. She urged him to do something with a sideways nod. He chewed his lip and fiddled with the box in his pocket. The music was starting to pick up as a few small children hit the dancefloor. Imani gave Rosalyn the signal to make a video call.

Now or never. 

He nervously clinked his knife against his wineglass and cleared his throat. 

“Nigga, you gone break it! That’s Big Mama good crystal.”

“Shut the hell up, Sir! You ain’t pay for none of this.” Rosalyn’s reprimand came with visual daggers sent to her baby brother at the far end of the table that only softened when she looked back at Terry. “Go ahead, sweetheart.” 

Terry stood to look at every confused face in the vicinity while he waited for one of the teenagers to turn the music down. 

“Sorry, y’all. I just had a few words to say. I won’t be before you long. In the real way, not the pastor way.” His attempt at a joke fell flat. Patrice tried to keep him motivated with a smile, but her eyes begged him for answers that he couldn’t provide. “Um, I know I’m the odd man out around here. Y’all have been incredibly kind and welcoming. I really appreciate it because you didn’t have to. Especially you, Ms. Ida. Happy Birthday, again. You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you, baby.” 

He nodded his appreciation and continued. “I also wanna thank Ms. Ida and everybody else who gave me permission to ask a question of somebody really important to me. Because I know being here with all of y’all is really important to her. Can you stand up for me, Treece?”

Patrice allowed Terry to help her to her feet before whispering through her teeth. “What are you doing?” 

“Something I’ve been wanting to do since I met you.” 

There wasn’t time for Patrice to process his statement. Terry slowly dropped to one knee, not caring about the dust below him. He kept his focus on her the entire time, even as quiet whispers turned into fervent murmurs. 

“When we were kids you told tell me that, if you ever got proposed to, you didn’t want a big speech or any of the stuff they did in movies. So, I promise not to do that. What I will do is tell you how much I love you. And I’ll do that today, tomorrow, and every day after that if you allow me the privilege of being your husband.” 

“Terrence,” Patrice huffed out as she tried to contain her mess of emotions. He reached up to grip her hand. "Don't make me cry in front of my people."

“Too late. Patrice, I’m askin’ you scared as hell in front of all these people, will you marry me?”

Everyone watched as Terry presented Patrice with an open ring box and a sparkling diamond illuminated by the small light tucked into the inside.

“I knew it,” Patrice whispered, losing the battle against the happy tears pouring from her waterline. 

“No, you didn’t, girl! We got you. Answer that man,” Imani hollered.

Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears. The cheering from her family began to muffle. Her body temperature skyrocketed. She felt faint. The people were waiting. What would she say? 

Just as reality began to slip away, Terry’s eyes looking back at her quieted the external and internal noise. 

Driven by pure love, Patrice met Terry in a squat and grabbed his face with both of her hands. 

“What you doing tomorrow?” 

“Hopefully saying a couple vows to this pretty girl I know from way back. I brought a tux with me just in case she wasn’t too busy.” 

“From way back, huh? I think I talked to her and she has a little time on her books.” She took another look at the ring before plucking it from its box and placing it on her left ring finger. She examined it for a bit then leaned forward to kiss her betrothed with enough passion to send the crowd into a frenzy. Pulling away, she smiled and wiped gloss from Terry’s lips. 

“Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

----

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

[whereforarthur]

Masterlist~

All of my work compiled in one place. Please like and reblog if you enjoy them, feedback is greatly appreciated. Requests are open!

(Updated 11/18/2024) 

(X) = coming soon

ItalianBach~

Fluff: 

You’re The Only Man I Want to Kiss

- Isaac and his girlfriend y/n react to Women Rank Men by Kissing

Smut:

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ArthurTv)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

ArthurTV~

Angst:

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch

- Being in love with your best friend sucks, especially when he doesn't feel the same way

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch (Part 2)

- Soulmates are two best friends who fell in love

Fluff: 

Being Stuck in an Elevator Never Looked so Good?

- Getting trapped in an elevator with your favorite YouTuber, was not what you had planned for today

Love At First Podcast

- Falling in love with you was easy

Smut:

"Women weaken legs"

- After your boyfriend Arthur was in boxing training camp and was forced to go 6-8 weeks without distractions and sex, he goes feral for his girlfriend when he gets out

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ItalianBach)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

The Two Arthur’s (with Arthur Hill)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

George Clarkey~

Fluff: 

Musicians want to be the loud voice for so many quiet hearts - Reader is a famous singer and George follows her on tour and fans speculate they’re dating.

Wedding Day Bliss~ - George Clarke marries the love of his life

Dating Headcanons for George Clarke

I'll wear your name on my heart til I die

- The turmoils and happiness that comes with giving birth

Smut:

Tummy Obsessed Much? - George's favorite body part on his girlfriend is her stomach

Wedding Night Bliss~

- A fluffy smut of the events that transpired after your and George's wedding night.

It’s Good to Be Home

- could you do a clarkey version of homecoming?

A Night In

- A perfect night in with your boyfriend is very pleasurable

It's Been Way Too Long

- “I think I'd miss you even if we never met.”

Love and Hate Are Blurred Lines

- “How would it be.. if all my hate disappeared like my youth, if after all this time his very hatred of me turned out to be something gentle, some kind of love.”

Caught Red Handed

- Who knew taking a risk could lead to this much pleasure?

So Much Restraint

ChrisMD~

Angst:

We'll Never Last

- It hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with you

Fluff: 

Fate is in The Stars (PlusSize!Reader)

- A chance encounter at a concert leads to more than you expected

Drunk and Touchy

- Chris fluff where he's a bit tipsy and can't keep his hands off his girlfriend

I Didn't Know Punk Girls Blushed

- Golden retriever boy falls for punk grumpy girl

What If We Were More Than Friends?

- Falling in love as best friends was unexpected

Smut:

Arthur Hill~

Angst:

Brother's Flatmate

- George’s sister and Arthur can’t stand each other, right?!?

Fluff: 

Am I a Burden to You?

- Arthur’s been working a lot and y/n misses him, she brings this up and he gets angry and calls her ‘clingy’ before realising he messed up and makes it up to her (angst —> soft)

Piano Nights

- Y/N and Arthur meet at a musician's party, where she spots him and confidently pursues him. They sleep together, and they end up dating, leaving Arthur in awe and a massive simp.

Dating Headcanons for Arthur Hill

Smut:

“Sex is an Emotion in Motion”

- Arthur takes care of you after a rough night in the sheets

It’s painful, loving someone from afar.

- Y/N is on holiday with all of the boys and there’s tension between Arthur hill and her, and everyone can see it and they’re just waiting for something to happen. (Soft Smut)

Homecoming

- When Arthur returns from vacation, he misses his girlfriend greatly causing things to get freaky

The Two Arthur’s (with ArthurTv)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

A Delightful Surprise

All~

Dating Headcanons

George Clarke

Arthur Hill

ArthurTV

ChrisMD (X)

ItalianBach (X)

Featuring more than 2 of the boys~

Poker Night Never Felt So Right

ArthurTv x Reader x George Clarke x Chrismd

A game of strip poker with your friends, goes a little further than anyone expected...

Said She Wanted Five Guys She Ain’t Talking about Burgers

Reader x George, Arthur Hill, Chris, Isaac and ArthurTv

Y/n shares her sexual intentions with five YouTubers. She invites them to join her fantasy, setting no limits on their actions. The group eagerly agrees, indulging in a passionate sexual encounter as they explore Y/n's desires one by one.

A/n: Let me know if anyone would like to be added to a taglist for all imagines or certain people!

[jillsandwhichs]

Crazy girl, even crazier husband

Chapter 3 to RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: Fem!reader x Leon Kennedy

Summary: Your husband and you go to the movie theatre to watch a new horror movie but this man just can't keep his hands off of you

Status of your guy's relationship in this oneshot: Married

WC: 6.1k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Zoowee mama there are so many, Making out, Fingering, Tongue licking, P in V, Sorta public sex ?? , No protection, Biting, He fucks you hard in an employee storage room so enjoy :p

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Window's rolled down, music on low, his hand on your thick thigh, your husband was driving you two to the move theatre in town. They were hosting some new random horror movie and the both of you thought it looked interesting, the idea to go on a date and watch it together randomly came up in a conversation last night. He's often times working so going out like this is rare, but whenever it happens, you absolutely cherish it, and so does he.

You could feel his fingers playing with the end of your skirt, occasionally gripping your thigh, his hand even leaving a mark. This is what he'd always do whenever he was driving and you were with him, he'd get you all riled up, all soaked up, and it's tortuous. The way his hand would slide up beneath your skirt was so painful, not literally, but he never even touched you, that made it painful. And half of the time, he doesn't even end up fucking you til way later or he doesn't at all. Such a man sometimes.

He wouldn't even acknowledge how horny you are either, he just knows, he loves making you feel all good inside just you leave you with nothing.

"We're almost there, by the way." You said softly, gazing out the window at the scenery outside. "Good to know, baby, thank you." Leon responded, his fingers trailing up her skirt again, just to simply not do shit. "Jesus Christ." You whispered underneath your breath, praying he wouldn't hear over the music. He was playing some song by Seether, it's all he ever listens to. You swear you know every song and every lyric by heart. Same with Hinder. This man and his early 2000s rock music, you swear.

The view on the way there was pleasant though. Mostly stores and other useless buildings but aside from that, you could spot tall & wide mountains in the distance. They're all able to be hiked too, you and Leon have done it before but in the summer heat, hell no. Luckily, it's autumn, no need to worry about that. Other than the mountains, the sky was gorgeous. That deep orange tint on the horizon was beautiful, it suited the night perfectly.

"What is this movie called again?" "It's called Smile, I don't know, looked creepy as hell." You spoke. "Yeah, yeah, the trailer was fucked." Leon snickered, one hand on the wheel still. "How much cash did you bring?" "Well, I brought my card, so a shit ton." Leon chuckled, "Using me for my money still, I see how it is." "What? You think there was another reason I married you?" You bit your lip, clearly, you were joking. He dug his nails into your thigh, causing your breath shutter. "Be quiet." He hummed, his teasing tone was deadly.

You couldn't help but let out a small giggle, he never fails to make you laugh. His humor is great, that's something you two bonded over immediately when you first met. You reminisce on that day often. Ever since, your life has been ultimately changed for the better. Leon was genuinely the light at the end of the tunnel for you, hopefully he feels the same way about you.

Just up a few more blocks was the movie theatre. This one is rather large, it was built more recently too. Only four years ago and it's held up well. When it was first built, you and Leon were still dating, now you're married, time flies by so quickly. The both of you have also been there a couple times before, about four times, each time was so nice. Leon really knows how to treat you. Every single date he takes you out on is special in it's on way. He's a miracle worker.

"Just up here." You whispered out, putting your phone in your little white purse that of course, Leon bought for you. He wasn't a poor man, rather wealthy. You don't know all too much about his job, he'd rather save the details, but from what you do know, he's a federal agent whose under the President, now that's saying something. And it all works out amazingly considering his love language is to spoil you with gifts, dates, travels, etc.. He truly never lets up on spending money on you.

"I know sweetheart." He leered, holding your thigh much more lightly now, his grip more gentle. "I'm praying they have sour patch kids." You snickered, Leon hummed at your comment. He's well aware it's your favorite candy... He's definitely spent hundreds on it. "Figured you'd say that." He snorted, pulling into the theatre parking lot. Surprisingly, it wasn't too packed. To your mental math, there was only ten or eleven vehicles, then again, it was a work night.

"Here we go." Leon grunted at he parked, taking the keys out of the ignition. "Grab my wallet for me, will ya doll?" "Yes babe." You replied, grabbing his wallet as you opened your car side door. Leon got out directly after, walking over to you. "Come here." He held his hand out. You handed him his wallet then grabbed a hold of his hand, squeezing it as you walked beside him. He was extremely tall, much taller than you. You were under 5'7, he was 6'2, you rather enjoyed the difference.

That instant hit of popcorn was glorious, it smelt like you'd just entered heaven. There was no one else in the lobby besides you and him, and obviously the workers. Not only did it smell so good, the decor was so retro, you loved the style of it. "I always forget how nice this place looks." You said in awe, loving the late '80s feel. "It is pretty." Leon huffed out before pulling his wallet out, "Go pick out whatever you'd like while I get out tickets." Your husband said deeply, pulling his card out.

You smirked at his words. You grabbed his arm and stood up your tippy toes to get to his ear, "Ask for popcorn please." You were sort of shy, you didn't wanna ask the employee yourself, plus you don't even have money to buy it, so. "I will, go on now." Leon chuckled as he then began to speak to the worker. You nodded, letting go of him and walking on over to the candy stand, they had a lot. But of course, your heart desired the sour patch kids the most, you grabbed them with haste.

You know Leon loves peanut M&Ms, he's always snacking on them, you grabbed a single pack of them for him as well. There was also some warheads in singular packaging, you grabbed ten, five for you and five for him, sour candy is your all time fav. You turned around, gazing over at Leon as he paid for you guy's tickets and the popcorn, you were excited for it. You were a foodie at heart, you could eat, and eat, and eat and never ever get tired of it. That's most likely why 80% of the dates you two go on are dinner dates.

Ambling back to your husband, you handed him the candy, your eyes locking on his. "Good, thank you." He smiled down at you, placing the sweets on the counter. "Good girl for getting my M&Ms." He whispered in your heart, his deep voice making your insides twist up like a pretzel, which was ironic due to the fact there were some in the hot food bar. "Heheh." You giggled, locking your arm with his, waiting on the popcorn.

"Your total is 16.20$." The woman behind the counter stated. Leon swiped his card through the machine, signing his signature too to verify the purchase. You grabbed the popcorn and Leon took your guy's candy, sliding the tickets into his back pocket. "Make it quick doll." Leon said from behind you as you began to butter it up. You loved the salty & savory popcorn, you'd drench it in that tangy yellow butter, but there is a point where it's too much.

Leon set his hands on your waist from behind you, his rough thumbs caressing the little sliver of skin showing from your shirt. You were wearing a tight shirt paired with your skirt, it had been awhile since the two of you went out so you thought it was cute. Despite only little bits of your hips showing, he still showed you he loved it. His nails lightly tickled at your midriff, watching you as you fixed up the food for the two of you. "All done?" "Done." You mumbled, turning around, his hands not moving though.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to your forehead gently before he then simply pressed his forehead against yours, "You're my everything." He hushly spoke. You were honestly caught of guard but maybe he was just in a lovey dovey mood...? "Love you too." You leered, kissing his lips swiftly, not wanting the employees to feel awkward. "C'mon baby, you know that ain't no kiss." He then gripped your chin, his lips settling upon yours for what felt like an eternity. You felt his tounge briskly swipe against your glossy lips, he could definitely taste the cherry.

He didn't go any further than that, pulling away after a few more seconds, "Let's go." He snickered, slipping his hand down your back as he lead you to the room. "You're so fucking crazy." You smacked his abs through his shirt. "Sorry, I just love you, is that so bad?" He acted sort of oblivious. Once again, he's such a man. "It's sooo bad." You dragged out your wording in a sarcastic manner, earning a titter from him. Making Leon laugh isn't too much of an accomplishment, he'll laugh at cat videos on the web.

"Just through here." Leon pushed the door open. The lights were still on too, proving the movie hasn't begun yet, luckily. There was only a couple other people in there, about five, they were all at the front. "Let's get in the back." Leon stated, gripping your hand firmly, "Why?" "Because I said so, be good and listen." He teased. You felt arousal stream over you when he said that, gosh, he's so good. You climbed up the stairs behind him, your hand still interlocked with his as you did so.

You two sat just a couple rows away from the very back, wanting to at least have a decent view of the massive screen. Leon sat down, then you did. "Here baby." You murmured, pulling the two ice cold water bottles from your purse. "Smooth criminal." He joked, taking his and placing it in it's holder. "Their drinks are more than their popcorn, it's ridiculous." You spat out, setting the popcorn in his lap. "Always making me hold it." "Mhm." You giggled. He glared at you, making your heart beat fast. You knew he was playing around but for odd enough reasons, it turns you the hell on.

You took the sour patch kids bag, ripping it out and setting it on the side of your leg, having it tucked between you and the seat. You'd save your warheads for later. "You gonna eat your candy?" "Maybe later, the popcorn is just fine for now." Leon assured you, taking a couple pieces in his mouth. Understandable. You ate a few pieces of your candy, the taste of them was immaculate, it could never get old.

-

After ten minutes or so of previews, trailers and commercials, the movie finally began. The lights went dark, setting the mood immensely. You could hardly see Leon's attractive face. "Finally." You uttered beneath your breath, taking some popcorn from his lap and eating it. The buttery, salty taste was too good, you practically moaned while eating it. The title card came on screen, the eerie noise playing in the background really suited the film from what you've seen.

At first, Leon wasn't paying too much attention to you, his eyes glued to the screen, he seemed to be into the movie so far. You tried to be, but that desirable burning feeling deep inside you wasn't doing you any justice. You could feel yourself pulsing, the mere thought of him had your panties soaked. He hasn't even done anything to crazy either, that's how good he is. He's such a dick sometimes. You can't even think about it, it makes you want him more. He can a man be so alluring?

As you snacked on your candy, you nearly lost your breath as you felt his hand slither onto your thigh, just as it was in the car earlier. Each one of his fingers caused an electric wave to course through you. The way they'd slightly lift off of your skin as they squeezed it, it was too much. You could feel as his pinky glided underneath your skirt, seemingly getting closer with his entire hand. "Movie is good so far, yeah?" Leon whispered to you, his hand going fully beneath your skirt now. Curse this man.

You didn't even reply, your body just simply reacted to his advances. You spread your legs open as much as you could in the tight chair, which wasn't too much but Leon definitely liked what you did considering he tightly gripped it, gaining a soft whimper out of you. "Look at how you responsive you are..." He murmured, not even glancing at you, making himself seem like he was just casually watching the film. At this point, you could care less about the fucking movie. You wanted his cock inside you. But maybe... His fingers would have to suffice.

"Finger me." You panted, looking at him, desperation plastered on your beautiful face. Leon didn't listen to your pleas, his pinky finger rubbing over your wet panties. That wasn't good enough, it never would be. You wanted him inside you, you wanted him to feel how wet you were for him. "Look how wet I am baby." You muttered. "Mmm, I can feel princess." He grunted, his entire hand planting itself onto your cunt through your undergarments, you whimpered quietly, needing to keep the act up.

"Please..." You gripped his arm. Leon sighed heavily, his eyes leaving the screen, his eyes locking on yours as he gandered down your body, taking the sight in. "So needy." He teased you. "You gonna stay quiet?" "Yes, I promise, please." You begged of your husband, your eyes never leaving his. "Don't make a single noise." He huffed out deeply, his voice husky. He pulled your dripping panties to the side, his index finger gliding through your wetness, causing you to sigh softly, not making a noise though. "Mmm." You murmured, resting your head against his fit arm.

His index finger continues to pick up your wetness, you could hear him sigh once more, "Fuck." He muttered, the sound of your sopping cunt was so fucking good to him. His fingers made their way to your nub, beginning to rub it with ease, a surge of pleasure bursting in your tummy as he did this. He made small yet fast circles on your clit, earning some subtle noises out of you ; Luckily, he didn't hear, the movie was starting to up itself in volume, good for you two.

"Does that feel good?" Leon purred out to you, his eyes shooting over to gaze at you, his eyes in a trance as he watched your face contort just by his touch. "Mhm." You moaned out hushly, your arms wrapped around his fit arm. "Good girl." He whispered, his fingers slapping your clit as they then went back down your slit, your wetness was practically dripping down your ass and onto the seat, sorry to the worker who'll have to clean your mess up...

His finger went all the way down before he then stuck it inside of you, your tightness grasping around it. Leon chuckled at how tight you were, you never fail to amaze him. He pumped his finger in & out of you, so moderately. "Gotta stay silent, remember that." Leon teased you, his thumb going to your clit, now fingering & rubbing you. This two in one deal was going to be the end of you. "Jesus..." You whimpered, your teeth sinking into his arm, causing him to only thrust his finger into you faster.

Your wetness was louder now, each time his finger went back into you, it sounded like a lemon being squeezed. You love biting Leon, he loves it too. One thing Leon especially loves is when he's fucking you, he's right on top of you, making you lose your sense of reality then you just bite down on his bulk shoulder. Gosh, he loves when you do that to him. His entire finger was drenched in your fluids, it was shining due to the bright lights emitting from the ginormous screen projector.

"Keep it quiet sweetheart." He whispered, a light snicker playing off his tongue. He was such an ass. He knows you can't be silent for much longer. He's bringing you closer and closer and closer to the edge. You fear if he keeps going at this rate, you'll cum and scream his name, like always. "It's so- so hard." You stuttered, your nails digging into his forearm fiercely. "Oh, you can do it." Leon praised you, he knows you can't.

As his singular finger continued it's work, you clenched around him even more as he slid another one in, this time curling each finger with every pump. No one in the theatre had noticed, surprisingly. All of them were mindless souls indulged in the film. You also really wanted to watch the movie, but fuck this was so much more needed than to watch some stupid horror flick. His thumb continued to rub your nub, the most sensitive nerve causing your brain to lose track of itself and your stomach to do flips like it's a gymnast.

"Leon... Baby..." You panted out, your hair getting messy from how much you've been tossing and turning your head. He didn't reply. His face was staring directly in front of him, acting all innocent, no one would suspect a thing... Yet he was finger fucking you, making your pussy clench around his fingers more tightly than ever before. His thumb was stroking your clit with pace, he was relentless on it. It was as if he was trying to gain a rise out of you and knowing him, he definitely was.

"Seriously." You whined, pressing your forehead against his upper arm. This man was going to be the fucking death of you.

"What is it?" He calmly said, still not looking at you whatsoever. "Fingers aren't enough, fuck me, I don't care about the stupid movie anymore." You said with an seductive tone. "Fingers aren't enough, huh?" He chortled as he began to finger fuck you at light speed. You instantly closed your legs, stopping all of his movements. "Don't." You squeaked, removing his hand from between your legs. Leon giggled, his hand gripping ahold of your cheeks sternly as he forced you to look up at him.

"You need me to fuck you?" "Yes baby, please." You mooched off your husband. You needed him and you need him at this current moment in time. "Well, where do you want to be fucked? In here? Where anyone could possibly see? In the restroom? In the car-?" "Let's find somewhere, please." You stated loud and clear, fixing your panties and skirt. Leon get go of your face. "Mmm, lead the way gorgeous." He held your hand, following behind you now. It felt powerful to take charge, to tell him this is what you want.

You both jogged down the stairs but acted as normal as possible, acting as if Leon wasn't just feeding into your dirty needs. Pushing open the wooden doors, you looked around and only saw a bathroom and other doors leading to another theatre area. Leon gripped your hand tighter, trying to indicate something to you. You spun around, looking back at the door behind you. "That's an employees only room!" "I doubt anyone is in here, c'mon." Leon laughed quietly.

He wrapped his hand around the knob, twisting it and pushing the door open. All that was in there was a table, some random movie posters and a counter, probably a type of break room. "Dammit, come here." Leon expired, grabbing your waist and pulling you against him. He lessened the space between the two of you as he smashed his needy lips against yours, his moving against yours in a passionate make-out.

Your arms went to his shoulders, holding onto them with care as you set your entire body against his. There was absolutely no stopping between kisses, it was constant. Heavy breathing and kisses were all that could be heard. Leon's hands went from your hips and down to your ass, gripping it hard as he licked your bottom lip, so badly wanting entry. You, of course, granted him exactly that. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed your ass, slapping it too, he tried to keep it down though. This is technically illegal, so...

As you two made out sexually, he pushed you up against the wall, his hands still beneath your skirt, going from playing with your rear and pussy repeatedly. You'd randomly feel his fingers against your clit for short periods of time. Your nails scratched into his shoulders, you were so into this. Your sense of relief was this. He knew what to do and how to do it to you. Leon's tongue swiped against yours, his practically engulfing yours. He loves doing this.

You slightly stuck your tongue out mid kiss, Leon immediately jumped at the opportunity. He swiped his tounge along yours so deliberately, the sensual texture of it causing your pussy to literally drip more than it was before. Leon then grabbed your chin, tilting it to get a better angle. His entire tongue licked yours, then he wrapped his lips around it, suckling. Your moved your hands from his face and down to his waist, holding onto his shirt for what felt like dear life.

After sucking on your tounge for a few seconds, he pulled away swiftly, pecking you once more and now kissing down your precise jawline. You tipped your head back, allowing him to gain more access. His kisses were so slow and gentle, he really took his time. His heavy breathing was so sexy, it showed how much he needed you. He truly yearned for your presence, your touch, your everything. "You smell amazing." Leon breathed in, giving the end of your jawline a quick nibble. You giggled, kissing his cheek before going back to the same position as before.

Leon smooched down your throat, relishing in your perfume and it's enticing smell. "Mmm, what scent babygirl?" "Honestly..." You began, "I don't fucking know." You chuckled, earning a snicker from him. He licked from the top of your neck and all the way down, leaving a strip of saliva just there. He kissed all along the strip, you couldn't help but whimper, each kiss and every lick was to die for. You couldn't get enough of him. Leon groaned, his hands holding your ass - He couldn't get enough of you.

Making his way down to the middle of your neck, his hot breath sat on that same spot for a few moments before you felt that painfully pleasing feeling of his teeth lightly sinking into your skin. "Fuck." You moaned, your nails sunk into his slim waist. You felt his tongue going erratic on your neck as he continued to bite you. "Leon..." You soughed out, tilting your head to the side even further, wanting him to leave more love bites on you.

Heading you call his name, he pulled away from your neck, he gave you a fast peck before pressing his forehead against yours. "What's wrong sweetheart?" Leon panted, his right hand on the side of your neck where he was just feasting upon you seconds ago. "You make me feel so good." "Yeah?" "Make me feel even better." You whispered, your arms now encasing around his neck, embracing him closely. "Oh babygirl." Leon sighed out, caressing your neck carefully. "I'll make you feel just fine."

Your husband turned around, scanning the room. "Lay down on that table." He snickered, stepping away from you. "Okay..." You giggled, walking over to it. You pulled yourself up onto it, sitting with your feet dangling off. "Lay back baby." Leon hummed out to you, his voice soft. You obliged, laying all the way on your back, your legs bent upwards on the table. You angled your head so you'd be able to watch him. He unbuttoned his black pants, allowing them to drop along with his underwear, revealing his hard cock.

You bit your lip with a giggle. You get so giddy seeing him this way, he's so sexy. "Don't look at me like that." Leon chuckled, placing both of his hands on each one of your knees. "I'll look at you however I'd like." "Oh? Is that so?" "Mhm." You cockily mumbled, placing your feet on his chest. Leon's large hands wrapped around your ankles, rubbing them lovingly as he stared you down. His eyes were lustful, darkness bursting in his iris's. "Look at you." Leon whispered, taking both of your socks off, setting them to the side. "What?" You sighed deeply, your cunt pulsing at his cooing tone.

Bringing one of your feet up to his face, he placed a kiss on the side of it, then on the other one. You weren't into all that feet stuff, neither was he, but Leon will and does kiss you absolutely everywhere. He set your feet back down. Leon's hands went towards your waist, holding onto it firmly as he quickly pulled you down the table, earning a surprised gasp from you. "A warning next time?" You scoffed. "No." Leon responded sternly, being playful with you, per usual.

His fingers trailed up to your panties, locking them into the waistband of them. "I'm so wet." "I know honey, so wet for me, hm?" Leon whispered seductively, never breaking eye contact with you as he pulled your cute white panties all the way off, taking them off of your ankles afterwards. You spread your legs widely for him, the entire view of your core at his service. It was like he was trying to make it not look obvious, but it was so clear he was gazing at you down there. "So beautiful." Leon complimented you, you were his wife after all.

Grabbing his erection, Leon jerked it a couple times, maintaining eye contact with you, only breaking it for a tiny bit to look down at himself. "You have me fucking pulsing." Leon grunted, wasting no time as he swiped his dick through your wetness. You moaned, staring up at him, his tip would stroke over your clit and make your center have an even bigger heartbeat, that's how it felt at least. "I love how I make you get." Leon continued. "All wet, needy, clingy... You're so pretty." Leon shared, kissing your knee again.

You nodded in reply, he was right, he does manage to make you feel all of those ways. "Yeah..." You muttered out.

Without zero warning, you felt him plunge into you with haste, his entire length being grasped around your warm heat. You felt your stomach twist and turn when he did this, it gained a whimper from you, a rowdy one. "Holy shit." You panted out, like a dog on a hot summer day. "Can't wait any longer." Leon cackled, his hands on your hips as he started his movements. Each thrust was life altering. It felt like you were in Heaven with what he was doing. His mouth was sort of open, you could hear his quiet gasps, you were making him feel a type of way too.

You held onto his wrists for stability as he fucked you, his thrusts were causing the entire table to shake, you didn't want it to break or something. "What if a worker hears us? Sees us?" "Well, they'll see a woman being fucked real good by her husband." Leon replied. Could he ever not be snarky? You rolled your eyes, looking to the side, your face contorting as you felt his member reach deeper inside of you. "Don't roll your eyes at me, doll." Leon stated, his hands still on your midriff.

You never looked back at him, your eyes were stained on the other side of the room. Not that you didn't wanna look at him, you just know it'll make you cum sooner, and even make him as well, and you really want to draw this out. His cock moved in and out of you repeatedly, he switched up the pace every other second. One moment he was fast & rough and the other he took it slow & deep. Both ways made your heart beat faster and faster each time.

"Why aren't you looking at me?" Leon groaned out, his left hand groping your tit through your shirt, squeezing it. You didn't answer, you couldn't, you knew if you tried speaking your speech would only be slurred. "Look at me." You didn't listen. You just held onto his arms with more strength, indicating you were going to lose yourself sooner or later.

Although, next thing you know, he stopped thrusting into you. This ticked you off but before you could get a damn word out, you felt the hand that was once on your breast, now pulling your face to face him. "I suggest you start listening." Leon brought himself down closer to you, his body over yours. You nodded your head leisurely, licking your lip, then biting it. His demands were music to your ears. His movements picked up again, but he forced you to look at him. Something about staring down at you as he made you feel certain ways was so convincing.

After a minute, he let go of your face, trusting you'll listen to him now. His hands rested on either side of your head, his dick still surging into your pretty pussy. You felt like there was an imaginary percentage bar of how long it'll take before your orgasm implodes on you, and with each pump, it fills that bar slowly yet surely. "Fucking hell you're so beautiful." Leon moaned, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, his breath could be felt there. "You're so handsome." You added, your hand going up to his hair, playing with it.

You had a feeling he was going to do it, but once he did, it made your core tighten even more than before. His teeth once again made their way into your neck, he bit down on it. "Leon..." You grunted out, your fingers flowing through his soft hair. His thrusts were more slow & deep now, as if he was getting tired or something. It was either that or he was trying savour this special time together. "I'm gonna cum soon." You admitted, your arms going around his head, holding him close to your body.

Leon didn't say a word, he just nibbled on your throat, kissing & licking it every so often. That sharp sting of his teeth was erotic, it made your stomach get closer and closer to granting you that ultimate pleasure - your climax. "Baby... Harder..." You begged, letting go of him and instead grasping the white table underneath you. Once more, hit nibbled your neck, then your slender shoulders, before his face pulled back, going to stare at you again. "Harder?" Leon questioned, his moments all the same. "Yes, please." You tittered, your body so heated up.

Your husband did what he does best - please you. He began to fuck you, it wasn't anything vanilla, no, this was hard. Each thrust was rougher and rougher. Your eyes looked up into his, you could feel that they were watery, you looked innocent, like a doe in front of headlights. Leon looked back at you, his eyes much different. They are loving, yes, but also sexual desire was all behind them, his eyebrows also added onto the darkness of his face. "Don't look at me like that." The man grunted, closing his eyes as he pumped into your tight center.

"No, no, look at me, Leon." You reached up, holding onto his face. Now it was his turn. Leon slowly opened his eyes again, much more coherent than you were earlier. "Yeah..." You murmured, your hands caressing his scruffy cheeks.

Coming onto you was your orgasm, your initial release. You could feel how close you were, each thrust only brought you more and more to the edge. With his dick twitching inside you, you knew he was close to cumming as well. Your stomach was providing you with that all familiar feeling - The feeling of ultimate pleasure. Each time he fucked into you, your breasts would bounce, now that he was going much harder, they didn't get a break. Both of Leon's hands held onto your tits, he continuously squeezed them, he was like a teenage boy with how he was about boobs.

Leon gandered back up from your breasts and back at you, he never realized you were still staring at him. This, oh, it sent him over the edge. Your water colored eyes were like a death trap for him ; In this case, a sexual trap. "Fuck, why do you do this to me..." He grunted as he pumped only a couple more times into your cunt, his seed filling you, you felt the warm liquid shoot inside. "Why would you look at me like that?" Leon moaned, moving into you with short, fast thrusts, wanting to get you finished too.

You didn't reply, instead you just pulled his face down to yours, pressing your lips to his. Leon breathed out against your face, kissing you back passionately. You held the back of his head & neck, relishing in this moment. "Oh I love you." You moaned. "I love you too babygirl." He grunted, his cock still deep inside of you. "Cum for me princess." Leon began, "Have your pussy tighten around me." He stated, his voice husk.

Your breath shuttered when he spoke like that. He was so hot, every word he spoke made you feel all sorts of ways. You couldn't help it, even though you wanted to. You kept your lips against his, your tongue intertwined with his as you suctioned his length inside of you. Your orgasm withdrew you from the real world, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head, surprised you couldn't see your own damn brain. "That's what I like to see." Leon paused his movements, just admiring his wife as she came all around him.

Both of you just sat there, your body felt super limp, you could feel his cock was soft inside of you. Everytime you guy's finish making love, it's like this. It's like the two of you are at a loss for words. You were still wet, you definitely needed to clean yourself up. You looked around the room, analyzing it. There was a paper towel dispenser by the sink on the other side of the room. "Could you please grab me some of that." You asked your husband. "Sure thing." He sighed gently, pulling out of you and heading over there.

Leon snatched up a few pieces of the towel, bringing it over to you. He didn't hand you them, instead he cleaned you up himself. You just watched him, heaving softly whilst doing so. He was a great husband. "Thank you baby." "Course doll." Leon replied kissing your inner thigh before helping you get back on your feet. "I'm not wearing these." You giggled, setting your panties aside. "Give them to me." He held his hand out. You rolled your eyes playfully, giving him your soaked underwear.

Your eyes widened as he sniffed them, the scent wearing off of them drove him crazy. As he pulled his own pants back up, he tucked your panties into his pocket. "Don't move around to much, I don't need your ass or pussy being flashed to the world." Leon chuckled, adjusting your shirt, you nodded in reply. He was right. "Let's go finish whatever time we have left of the movie." Leon whispered to you, his hand on your cheek firmly as he kissed you once more before the both of you made way back.

[merriweather-boat]

I genuinely believe that one of the most intimate connections you can have with another human being is hatred, which is absolutely why I find Sephiroth and Cloud’s relationship so compelling, especially in its more derivative interpretations of hatred. Or, well — Sephiroth and Cloud’s relationship is what convinced me that hatred is one of the most intimate connections you can have. That’s a better way to put it.

With them especially, their hatred has blurred the line so that to hate one another is to love one another, because Cloud’s hatred for Sephiroth and vice versa is just — how do I put this into words? Imagine hating another person with such intensity that staying alive just to hate them a little more, a little longer, becomes your raison d’etre. Hating Sephiroth gave Cloud a sense of purpose. Cloud’s hatred for Sephiroth allowed the man to return from the claws of the Lifestream itself. Sephiroth’s hatred for Cloud and the vicious expression of it brought Cloud close to other people and pulled him out of isolation. Their hatred is destructive, it is anathema to growth, to a better future, and yet at the same time it’s what saved the planet, it’s what saved Cloud, it’s genuinely incredible.

When Sephiroth says, “Fill your hollow heart with rage,” in this context — especially taking into account that Cloud’s hatred is nothing but a gift to Sephiroth, quite literally bringing him back to life time and time again — he’s essentially asking Cloud to love him in his own special, freaky way.

I also want to point out that being someone’s mortal enemy is the same as swearing a wedding vow — the concept is the same. “Til death do us part.” That hatred drives people in ways that define their lives for decades, if not forever. My favorite part? Not even death can separate Sephiroth and Cloud, which means that they are LITERALLY better than married. And it’s because of how much they hate each other. Mortal enemies swear to sustain a flame of raw, painful emotion within them for a lifetime, only to one another, and every day is a choice to wake up and keep… well. Sephiroth said it best. To fill their hollow hearts with rage and find wholeness in that hatred.

Another aspect of that which I appreciate so much is that in a way, hatred can transcend romance. I love romance, but reading fics where the relationships transcend everything and rise to the level of mortal hatred is just on another level for me. Cloud and Sephiroth hating each other with such dedication is an almost romantic sentiment, but it’s not — it’s just devotion. Hatred is devotion. And I find that so compelling, especially because it leaves so much room for weird relationships. Even when the lines are blurred, even when that hatred takes on decidedly romantic forms, sexual forms, any form, at the end of the day hatred is only absolute devotion.

[silkythewriter]

Hello! Can I request alastor x reader where the two were married while they were alive, but reader died via illness or something and went to hell (though they never partaked in the cannibalism) and the reunite in hell?

“I'll love you 'til I'm dead”

Warning!: Angst, but eventually fluff! A bit of OOC since I haven’t written in awhile.. (.,.)💧

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note: LONGGGGG TIME NO SEE, HIYA! IM SO SORRY FOR MY HIATUS OF SORTS BUT I FELT LIKE WRITING SUM SMALL ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I apologize!, I hope you guys enjoy and I’m so sorry for disagreeing yet again!.

Summary!: Spouse! Reader dying via sickness, but reuniting with alastor in hell.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Louise (Louise)

I'll love you 'til I'm dead

Louise (Louise)

Not even if she likes the way you dance

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

First of all, he cherished you to the fullest content. As stuck up as he seems to be smile and all, he was in desperate need of support and attention. And you supplying both of those was all he needed even if he didn’t say out loud the tender touches and moments you both shared alone was enough to tell you everything.

Your relationship was nothing less then sweet and tender, and depending if you knew of his..ahem..little side hobby, it was innocent as well!

He cared for you so deeply, so desperately, to the point where you became his tie to humanity. Of course he knew how to play a role of a sane man, but even then he needed you to tie him to the small humanity and sanity he had.

Although not a big fan of physical affection himself he would in private of course, indulge in your soft touches, and hold. He and there he may quietly slip next to you just so you could softly run you fingers across his skin.

But of course the unviable happen, as the world ripped him of what he held so dear. Maybe as a punishment for his sins and misdeeds, or simply because it could.

Of course in the 30’s medicine was far from advanced, not only that but expensive. So when the news arrived of your newly found sickness all he could do was smile and nod at the doctor as if he wasn’t receiving the most dreadful news.

At first, he genuinely did hope for a recovery, he believed you would get better. Sure a tiny voice in his head was feeding him scary thoughts, and his gut twisted and turned. He felt something was off but surely it was nothing!, right?.

But as your health deteriorated so did his mental state and sanity, even worse then it once was. He put up a front though, for your sake and his, comforting you and saying how you’ll be fine soon, and recover then both of you could go off and do something you always wanted to do.

At some points of repeating this it really turned into him assuring himself. That your not leaving him, no, not anytime soon.

The more you fell ill the more you watched him spiral infront of you. And all you really could do was stare at him with sadden eyes as you gave comforting touches against his cheek or holding him close, even if you could barely pull yourself up from the bed you laid.

You felt your time coming close to ending, and somehow so did he. But unlike you he denied it to the fullest extent.

“Please dear don’t speak of such things, don’t worry yourself. You’ll be fine you’ll see!, now just rest my dear”

He wanted to believe it’ll pass over anytime now, ignoring the doctors he spent fortunes on. And sometimes he does blame them even if they just told the truth. He hated how they couldn’t help you, how he couldn’t help you.

So the day of you passing was the day he lost his final tie to humanity. If not for you, why give such a nasty world mercy?.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

The minute they lowered your casket and buried you with the dirt is also the day he decided to amp up his murders.

He’s not sloppy with his murders their always calculated and tidy but grossem. Even with this, losing you he couldn’t concentrate which didn’t help his case as his blood lust grew and grew.

Each and every murder his mind went blank, thoughts of you kept flooding in that he desperately wanted to rip from his mind.

If a woman that wore you same fragrant passed him. She would be gone in a matter of days.

Nights were colder, harsher, he always assumed karma would catch up to him, but to him not you.

He often questioned what happened how did it happen. How did you even get such a illness?, and why did it have to be you?. We’re you in heaven watching him in his pitiful state? Was there even such a thing?. If there was…he surely wasn’t going to see you he knew where he was damned to go, but you?, he was sure you deserved the Pearl-ist set of wings.

Depending on the days, months or years following your death, he’s like a ticking time bomb.

He yearns for you in such a way he’s humiliated at it in a way. He misses you desperately, widowed too soon, he always assumed it would be you to be in this position, but he assumed wrong.

Even then he couldn’t tell if he could subject you to the twist of his heart and guts. He would beg to die before you, but the pain he feels now is something he would never want you to feel.

Following thoughts of your death was also his. Would he get to see you soon?, one last glance before being damned?.

He never truly moved on, cause you were his only love. Loving someone for him atleast, was rare in a romantic sense.

At some point he genuinely does just continue his murders till his death, maybe it was your passing that truly killed him. After your passing he was a bit hasty, maybe that’s what lead him to be shot in the woods. But who truly knows?

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Now, after his death is where everything truly came together.

His rise to power was fairly quick killing overloads one by one gaining more voices on his radio.

But the lingering feeling of hope stayed in him…maybe you were here? Waiting for him?, But at the same time he hated this life for you, in such a miserable and disgusting yet admittedly amusing place(at least to him)

Now depending on how you found him maybe the minute his radio debuted. Or maybe by a game of telephone by the residents in hell whispering rumors and describing someone all to familiar to you.

Either way! You guys do eventually find each other. By chance or destiny is up to you

The minute he spots you, hears you, even senses you, he freezes. His smile never flattering but static surrounding the area as he processes what’s happening. Is this some sort of trick?, how..how did you end up here?

In a matter a seconds though he’s in front of you, looming as his shadow grows in suspense.

He holds his appearance and self image very important but in this tiny moment of silence. He lets it slip even if just a bit, smile never faltering but I’m his eyes a glimpse of renewed joy. Genuine joy, not form the harms of others but from something warm…something bitter sweet.

Maybe it’s you who pipes up snapping him from observing you like a painting in a museum.

“See?” You said softly grabbing his hand gently like you used to do, as you softly brought it to your face and softly planted it on your cheek. “I’m real” you said with a soft smile (SILENT HILL REFERENCE!!¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Depending on where you are he’s quick to whisk you away to somewhere secluded.

Despite the questions on his mind all he can do is silently stare at you taking in ever detail, even if some changes here and there, you were still you. The you that he missed so desperately for all too long.

Even if not one for physical affection he’s quick with holding you, scared of you being taken from him again, taking in all he can.

Your so much more precious then he leads on, and he’ll be damned to second hell if he loses you again.

In the period of first meeting you again he is keen on keeping an eye one you 24/7, doesn’t matter what powers or how long you survived without him in hell. He can’t risk it, especially not now as he started accumulating enemies so quickly.

He’ll treat you like it’s your first time dating, of course in his old time-y way, but either surprising you with flowers at random times of the day, or watching you get giddy when he kisses the crown of your head.

Now that he knows, and felt the pain of losing you, every moment you have together form than on is cherished more than before. He remembers every day with you like the back of his hand, what you ate, what you said, what you wore, and more!

He know’s…he knows he’s a messed up, and vail man. He understands the gruesome things he’s done with little to no regret. But if he did in somehow and some way do good, something good to earn you back in his afterlife man is he greatful for it.

Some nights he does just stare at you. He’s scared, he will never show it but he is. If he loses you again, for eternity, he’s not sure what’d he do with himself. And that, the fact you weight so heavily on him is the second scariest thing, first being losing you.

Over all, he’s taken aback having you back, but he gets use to it very quickly, your soft comforting touches and your voice that brings back a flood of memories is something he will never forget nor let ago, he isn’t losing you this time, and he’ll do anything to make sure of that.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

WOW THAT WAS LONG, I LOVED WRITING IT THOUGH OH MY GOSH I LOVED THIS IDEA, PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!!! \(^ヮ^)/

[darkbluekies]

He's coming to steal your man♡

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

Jk he's here to kill your man!

I think you're going to like this as much as I'm currently am writing it!

[aviiarie]

˚ ₊ ‧ ♡ TIL DEATH DO WE PART — feat. kaveh event masterlist

synopsis. you were practicing your wedding vows near a grave, and accidentally brought a corpse back to life. trouble is, he now thinks you two are married. warnings. corpses. implied death. reader is arranged to be married. notes. request for @lowkeyren!! corpse bride au. gn!reader. 1.5k words.

The smell of fresh soil was thick in the air, rich and cloying, and filling your senses. It was only a few hours after the rain had tapered off, leaving the ground soft and moist beneath your shoes.

While the strong, slightly overwhelming scent managed to distract you from the anxiety thrumming beneath your skin, it came with an unfortunate side effect: mud. The further you walked, the more it stained the hem of your clothes, squelching uncomfortably under your feet. You tried to ignore the dirt that you knew must be caking the fabric, but every step into another puddle was yet another reminder of the mess you knew you looked.

Your wedding outfit, the one that your family had worked tirelessly to prepare, was near ruined.

Truthfully, you hadn't planned on running so far into the forest, only far enough that the ringing sound of wedding bells and nauseating scent of lilies were left fully behind you. Flowers and weeds alike were crushed underfoot in your haste, but by the time your frantic footsteps had slowed, you were already deep into the sprawling clusters of trees.

Emerging into a clearing, you finally halted in your tracks. Your lungs burned—from the chill of the night air, or from the exertion, you couldn't tell.

Your mind was still abuzz with anxiety and adrenaline clashing against each other in the back of your head. All you could think of was the horrified face of your fiance, soon-to-be husband, watching helplessly as you fled the alter.

He was a good man, a perfect gentleman; the kind of man you might have truly fallen in love with if you were given the chance. And with the way he had smiled at you when you met, he might have been able to fall for you too, but he wasn't given the chance either. Neither of you were given more than a few minutes alone, and a promise that you had a lifetime to properly become acquainted with each other.

The wedding rehearsal was supposed to be the practice, an opportunity for you to settle your nerves and make certain you could stumble your way though your vows without a mistake, but it ended in disaster.

Forgetting your vows was the first sign of trouble; dropping the ring was the second. Knocking over a candle onto the dress of your new mother-in-law was the final straw that broke away any hope of the day going smoothly. Before you could even process your mistake, the room was filled with shrieking as the woman tried to fan away the flames curling across her dress.

Humiliated, you had pushed past your shocked family, ignored the spluttering protests of your new in-laws, and left behind your soon-to-be husband behind.

It was a cowardly move, but you couldn't bear to stay any longer, when everyone was looking at you as if you had already failed as a spouse.

“It shouldn't be that difficult,” You murmur to yourself, pacing across the clearing. “Just a few simple vows...”

The vows themself were easy to memorize, but the moment you tried to voice the words, they would get tangled in your throat.

“With this hand... I...” You stopped walking, clearing your throat and holding your chin up. “With this hand, I will lift your wine—No, that's not right.”

A dejected sigh echoed through the space. There was no one around to see your frustration, but you knew you must make a rather pathetic sight, poorly reciting vows alone in a forest.

“Your wine will never be emp—Ugh, no! That's not right either!”

Between your attempts, you paced across the dirt, footprints sinking into the already soft ground. You needed to be better, you needed to get this right.

A hand fell to a hidden pocket at your side, holding the ring that you had failed to give to your soon-to-be husband. It was a simple silver band, glinting in the moonlight.

If not for your own pride, if not for your family, then you had to pull your act together for your fiance. You knew his stake in the marriage as much as you knew your own, and you knew he couldn't afford to search for a new spouse if you couldn't get it right.

You needed to get it right.

With a deep breath, you tried once more. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine.”

A chilling breeze swept through your hair, but you barely noticed it. You took a step forward, eyes locked on a curling root sticking out of the dirt. It almost looked like a hand, reaching out to you. “With this candle... I will light your way into the darkness.”

You knelt down on one knee, stretching out a hand to the root.

“With this ring—” Your hand closed around the root, slipping the ring over the 'finger' of the branch. “I ask you to be mine.”

As soon as the words left your lips, there was a shift in the air. It was subtle at first; the wind began to pick up, and the birds flocking in the trees flew away, as a shiver ran down your spine.

Before you could blink, the root started to move, twisting to wrap itself around your wrist. You cried out, trying desperately to tug your hand out of its grasp, but it held fast. As you looked closer, it appeared less like a root now, and more like a hand, gripping you tightly with gaunt fingers. As you pulled harder, it surfaced fully from the ground, revealing the skeleton of an arm connected at the wrist.

You let out a shriek at the grisly sight. In your panic, you jerked your arm hard enough to cause the skeletal limb to break away with a loud snap, the force of the movement sending you stumbling backwards. With a cry, you shook your wrist to get rid of the now-broken hand, hurling it against a tree.

You watched, frozen in fear, as the patch of dirt where the root—hand? skeleton?—had once stuck out shifted, like there was something pushing it from underneath. Another hand broke the surface, clawing at the ground to try and pull itself up.

The hand was followed by an arm, then a head, then a torso. What emerged was the lumbering figure of a man, his tailored suit in tatters and covered in dirt stains. The tears in his shirt showed an exposed rib-cage, the flesh already deteriorated and leaving his bones on display. Half of his body was skeletal—just like the arm that was now missing from his side—but the parts that still had skin clinging the bones were gray and colourless. The only part that wasn't rotted were the shiny hairclips pinned at the side of his blonde hair, although, they did nothing to disguise how dirty and matted it was.

The creature might have taken the rough shape of a person, but there wasn't a trace of light shining in his eyes. They were glossy and white and lifeless, as if he was nothing more than—

A corpse.

The wind began to howl, filling your ears. In between the noise, a chilling whisper broke through.

“I do.”

Your chest seized, heart pounding in your ears. The corpse's eyes were fixed on your form, his blueish lips pursed slightly. He lumbered towards you, each movement making your skin crawl.

You stumbled backwards, your back hitting the trunk of a tree. The bark dug sharply into the back of your clothes, scratching at your skin. Across the clearing, the corpse was still watching you, eyes lit up with a glint of... curiousity?

He moved forward again, and your breath quickened. You spun on your heel, pushing through the trees and past bushes and branches to run further into the forest. All you could hear was your own fractured breathing and pounding heartbeat.

The wind howled mournfully as you ran, ruffling your already tattered clothes. Behind you, you could sense the corpse slowly growing closer and closer.

You came to a bridge, almost stumbling and falling into the river below. Leaning heavily against the railing, you tried to catch your breath, even as your lungs burned. Your feet were aching, your chest pained, but you couldn't stop.

As you desperately tried to steady your breathing, the moment of pause made you notice how still the night had become. The wind had died down, the birds had dispersed, and the corpse was nowhere to be seen.

You let out a shaky sigh, scanning your surroundings, but your relief was cut short as soon as you turned around.

With a gasp, you found the corpse right in front of you, a dark expression shadowing his face. Up this close, he looked almost pretty, with delicate features and piercing eyes that softened as they fell on you. You could imagine him alive, with a reddish blush in his cheeks instead of the sickly pallour that his skin had taken on; a beautiful young man, instead of a walking corpse.

He reached out, gently placing his ice-cold hands onto your shoulders. With a thin smile, he leaned closer until you could feel his words on your skin.

“You may now kiss the groom.”

🏷️ taglist: @tragedy-of-commons, @mollzaj, @wystiix, @mikashisus.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai