#it makes me laugh every time I see it. the bride and her tiny ass groom

[odessastone]

Got my order from @novicere today!

I think I’ve reached the point where I could make an itabag of Just these two 🤣

[keijislove]

Pureblood Mania: Sirius Black X Reader

A/N: Warning: toxic mother-daughter relationship. Mentions of drinking.

Sirius Black was one of the most arrogant, thick and inconsiderate prats anyone would have the misfortune to meet. He found his pleasure in staying with random girls who truly fell for his charm all while he didn’t even look back once he got what he needed. Which is why to say that he was furious at the moment was a complete understatement.

His ‘beloved’ mother had decided to pounce upon him this very morning and Walburga Black was not one to beat around the bush. Authoritatively, she stormed into his room and snapped her fingers in front of her face, saying, “We’ve got to talk.”

Sirius supressed a massive groan – this couldn’t be good.

“I can see your future is going nowhere, boy!” she snarled, “You shall, under no circumstances, besmirch the ground that my forefathers have bestowed upon me by ending up to be a – a street dweller!”

Sirius rolled his eyes. Trust her to say something dramatic like this.

“Therefore, to improve our situation and get rid of you,” she added nastily, “You will be getting married at the end of this month.”

If there was anything Sirius was expecting, it definitely wasn’t this. He got up so fast that his chair crashed to the ground. He did not care.

“Wha- married?!” he sputtered, “To whom?!”

“You shall see this evening,” his smother snapped, “She’s a lovely girl. They will arrive at around five. Wear something respectable. And fix your hair!”

She stormed out of the room, leaving Sirius mouth agape.

Married.

She would probably be some swotty pureblood. The very thought disgusted him. Though, deep down, Sirius always knew he would be married this way, he wasn’t ready for that level of commitment. He was used to variety. Now he’d be stuck with some dull girl for the rest of his life. This day could not get worse.

------

“I’m ready, mum,” you spoke in a monotonous voice.

This morning, your darling mother had announced that you’d be getting married at the end of this month to a ‘charming’ young man. You knew she didn’t care who you married. Pureblood was the word.

You were wearing a F/C dress and your hair was styled neatly – very unlike you.

Your mother came bustling into the room saying, “Good. We should leave now, they’re expecting us. And don’t embarrass me.”

She glared threateningly at you.

You rolled your eyes.

As you stepped into the car, very much aware of what you were signing up for, it drove ahead through the beautiful town you’d once called home. Your car stopped in front of a handsome manor – one you’d never seen before.

As the front gates opened to reveal a scrawny house elf, you followed your mother inside. The moment you reached the living room, something felt off.

“Ah, Y/M/N!” a richly dressed woman greeted, “And dear Y/N! How lovely to see you!”

It was at that moment that you spotted one of your oldest friends, Regulus Black. Your eyebrows rose. This was better than any random pureblood, however, you were quite incapable of thinking of Regulus that way and you were sure he was too.

You looked at him and he looked back. You pointed to yourself and then him and mouthed, “Seriously?”

Regulus looked sickened and shook his head in disgust, mouthing, “Not me.”

You frowned slightly. Regulus didn’t have a cousin, did he? After all, the only other person in the house was –

Oh. Oh, OH.

Your face morphed into an expression of absolute horror as you registered the other person who had just entered the room, mirroring your expression.

Realising you were gaping, you cleared your throat and spoke, “Sirius.”

Your voice was three octaves higher than usual and you hated it.

“Y/N.” Sirius breathed, still in shock.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Mrs Black clapped happily, “How lovely.”

“Yes,” you muttered, “How lovely.”

You glared his way as a pang of immense guilt welled in Sirius’ stomach, eating at him like termites as he relived his only memories of you at Hogwarts.

A girl was laughing and chatting animatedly to an otherwise quiet boy, who reciprocated her actions. Y/N L/N and Regulus Black were almost inseparable.

“Oi, Y/N!” a dark-haired boy with a handsome face called, “Is it because you pity my idiotic brother that you hang out with him? Or is it just that you’re so pathetic that no one else wants to hang out with you?”

His mates howled with laughter as you blushed furiously. Regulus threw a disgusted look their way and tugged at your sleeve, muttering, “Let’s leave.”

-

The same girl was now attempting to carry a large pile of books to the library to help Madame Pince with her work, when they tumbled out of her hands and she fell to the floor with a thud.

“What’s that, L/N?!” Sirius Black yelled from nearby, “Bite off more than you can chew?”

James and Peter positively roared with laughter as Remus suddenly became interested on one spot in his book, his brows furrowing into a frown slightly.

You gathered your books in embarrassment before practically running to the library with them.

-

As he relived these moments, he realised how much you’d actually grown. You weren’t the same old dorky girl from Hogwarts. You were now a quiet, reserved and admittedly extremely attractive young woman who looked ready to burst into tears.

“Sirius dear, take Y//N up to your room, will you?” Mrs Black gave a nasty fake smile.

“Yes, uh, okay, come on,” Sirius stammered.

You walked up the stairs in silence, not daring to look at each other. The house was indeed, very beautiful. As you reached Sirius’ room, you clambered inside before he finally spoke.

“So,” Sirius awkwardly began, “H-how are you, where’ve you been?”

“Do you really care or are you just being polite?” you muttered, upholding a deadpan stare out the window and on the handsome garden.

“Listen, Y/N, I know we got off on the wrong foot-”

“Yeah, we damn right did!” you snapped, pouring out seven years’ worth of feelings at once, “You never had the right foot when it came to me, Sirius, and I doubt that you have it now.”

“Look, I know you don’t want to do this,” Sirius desperately said, “I don’t want to force you into anything but-”

“Oh yes, there’s always a but when it comes to you, isn’t it?” you spat, “I can’t call off this marriage because my mum will kill me, you understand? Kill me. And I’m not like on of the many girls you screw every night-”

“I never said you were,” Sirius angrily spoke.

“Thank Merlin, you’ve finally done something wise, Black,” you snarled in his face, “We’ve got to grit our teeth and do it. Will you please try not to be a complete and utter arse and make it harder for me than it already is?”

At that moment, your mother burst into the room, “Y/N darling, we’ve got to leave now, and get your dress picked.”

Trying not to gag at the fake ‘darling’, you threw one last nasty glare in Sirius’ direction before following your mother out of the room.

-------

DAY OF WEDDING (A/N: sorry 😉)

“Bleurgh,” you blankly stated to your friend Lily Evans, who was getting you ready for the wedding alongside another girl called Marlene McKinnon, to whom you’d never really talked but she seemed nice anyway.

“What’s wrong, you look gorgeous!!” Lily gasped.

“Spiffing, Y/N,” Marlene grinned at you, “Let’s get your hair done, Sirius is a lucky man!”

She hastily added, “Joking!” as you glared murderously at her.

Soon your hair was styled and your veil perched on top of your head along with a bouquet of roses in your arms.

As you walked alongside your father down the aisle, you fought the urge to turn and run on the spot. Sirius was gaping at you from the front. He looked quite nice, you had to admit.

His face formed a cocky smirk as you fought another urge to throw the bouquet at his face.

You didn’t register any vows the priest made, your mind wandering over to glimpses of the future you were signing up for.

The word that caught you by surprise was, “You may kiss the bride.”

“Oh shit,” you thought, trying not to panic.

Sirius threw an anxious glance at your face, as if asking for your permission and you closed your eyes and nodded slightly. You could feel his minty breath on your face as his lips captured your own. They were gone the moment they appeared.

You flushed. How foolish of you to think Sirius Black would ever like you. You were looking anywhere but his face, refusing to fall for his charm. As the guests congratulated you and the food was eaten, the speeches delivered, it was finally time to go home. You were to go to a honeymoon destination your mothers had chosen and Merlin you were going to regret this.

The moment you stepped inside your bedroom; something was off. The whole room smelt like flowers and there was this tiny ass bed in which the two of you would have to squeeze.

“Ugh,” you moaned into your palms, grabbing your clothes and heading off to the bathroom to change out of this awful wedding dress and into your nightclothes.

By the time you washed off your makeup and brushed your teeth, your new ‘husband’ was already sitting on the bed, changed into his own nightclothes.

You sat warily on the bed, as far away from him as possible. Sirius threw a questioning glance your way before speaking, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ignoring this mildly hurtful jibe, you spoke, “You don’t care how attractive the girl is, as long as she’s ready to shag you.”

“Nice,” Sirius sarcastically muttered, “I can see why Regulus liked you. You’re a bloody psychopath.”

“He’s a damn sight better than you are,” you retorted.

“I’m the handsome one,” Sirius cockily stated.

“I’d rather marry Severus,” you coldly spoke, “At least he knows his manners.”

“You really know how to wound a man.”

“It’s midnight, go to sleep. And no funny business, Black,” you warned.

“Can’t make no promises,” Sirius chanted as you threw a pillow at his face before turning the other way and falling asleep.

------

Married life didn’t suit you at all, especially when your husband was such an arse. He would leave early morning and go out with his stupid friends and sometimes even bring them over. Let’s just say you didn’t fancy quietly sitting in the corner, watching James Potter and Sirius Black taking turns shoving pencils up their noses while Peter cheered them on and Remus sat with his head in his hands, continually apologising to you.

You drew the line when Sirius returned one day, apparently been out with his friends.

He silently hung up his coat before turning to walk to the bathroom when you shut your book and spoke, “Enjoyed ourselves, did we?”

Sirius turned around to face you, confused, “Huh?”

“We need to talk,” you spoke, struggling to keep your voice even.

“’Kay, but first I’m going to-”

“NOW.” you spoke with such a ringing force in your voice, Sirius was surprised at himself for not recoiling several steps.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah, OK. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you what’s up,” you fumed, “Where do you get to these days? I go to bed and you’re not there; I wake up and you’re still not there and you turn up for lunch then disappear again to wherever you go!”

“So?” Sirius shrugged, “’Smatter with you?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Sirius, I’m your wife,” you spoke, “I have a right to know where you go-”

“You’re not my wife,” Sirius frowned slightly.

“I – what, sorry?!” you sputtered.

“I thought we just married for namesake,” Sirius’ frown grew deeper.

“Yeah, but that still makes me your wife, git!” you yelled angrily.

“Why do you care where I go?” Sirius furiously asked you, “It’s not like you like me any better when I’m around-”

“If you’re married, I hope you realise that you can’t sleep around anymore, namesake or not,” you coolly stated.

Sirius looked taken aback, “I don’t sleep around.”

“A likely story,” you snarled.

“You know what, you’re being ridiculous right now,” Sirius huffed in annoyance, “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, no,” you hurried forward and made to seize his forearm but he roughly shook you off before slamming the door in your face.

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

“I’d make fun of you right now,” Regulus was trying to control his laughter, “But you seem pretty miserable already. Care telling me what’s wrong, brother?”

Sirius scowled at his younger brother. Trust the little shit to try and get back at him for possible blackmail material.

“I need something to drink first,” Sirius stated.

Regulus snorted before summoning a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses with a wave of his wand. He poured some out for himself and gave the other glass to his brother.

Sirius took a swig before speaking, “It’s Y/N. She’s acting weird.”

“You always found her weird,” Regulus coldly stated.

“Nah, now she’s weirder than usual,” Sirius shuddered, and with a deep breath, began to explain.

By the time he finished, Regulus was staring at him with incredulity and exasperation.

“Are you really such an idiot?” he asked disbelievingly, “You’re supposed to be smarter than this, Sirius, dogs are smart!”

“What’s intelligence got to do with this?” Sirius asked, confused.

Regulus rolled his eyes, “You’ve no idea, have you? Imagine, brother, my situation at Hogwarts when she used to burst into tears in front of me after you’d teased her, telling me that she was no good and how Sirius Black would never like someone like her back!”

Sirius’ look of confusion morphed into one of comprehension, followed by horror.

“She-?” he asked.

“Yes,” Regulus nodded, staring at him in disgust, “Now go apologise to her, or I’ll hex you so bad you’ll shoot flames out of your-”

“No, okay, no,” Sirius made a disgusted face before proceeding to down the entire bottle of Firewhiskey.

--------

A knock on your door around midnight told you that your delightful ‘husband’ had come home. Scowling, you got out of bed to open the door to reveal and extremely drunk Sirius standing there.

“What the-”

“I’m sorryyyyy Y/N ieeeee,” Sirius sobbed, flinging himself onto you.

“Uhm,” you awkwardly patted his head, “What’s going on-?”

“All the time I thought you – hic – fancied my – hic – brother, when you were really – hic – oh, I’ve been a complete – hic – arse to you and – hic – now I’ve – hic – ruined everything,” he rambled.

“Sirius, what-” you got cut off as his lips sloppily grazed over your own. You closed your eyes for a brief moment before realising he was drunk. He probably didn’t know what he was doing. This was wrong.

“Sirius,” you muttered, pushing him off slightly, “You don’t mean this, trust me, you don’t.”

“I do, I do,” he howled, still sobbing, “I wanna be your husband – make lots of little kids with you!”

“OK,” you spoke, this was where to draw the line, “Tell me this when you’re sober, with a straight face, and I’ll believe you.”

His face morphed into a dorky grin and his head lolled over to your shoulder as you practically carried him inside before the both of you fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were surprised to see him leaning impatiently over you, showing no sign of a hangover whatsoever.

“Ready to make those little kids?” he asked cheekily as you gasped, a realisation hitting you.

“I’m going to kill Regulus.”

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

Can I ask for Pepa and Felix (any age really but maybe during Casita being rebuilt?) Having public or semi public sex and they have to keep each other quiet or else they'll get caught?

It was (almost) their wedding day-

Married! She was going to get married! And to Félix Castillo no less! The big, strong, funny man of her dreams. It was unbearable having to wait, ESPECIALLY since her mami haven't let them see each other in over a week. To 'keep them pure' as you'd say. Two more days, and they'd be in each other's arms again. But it was SO far away, Pepa could feel herself constantly raining, despite her best efforts. Probably why she was sitting in this tiny ass dressing room, in her wedding dress, trying to calm down. Had to make last minute adjustments with wet hands, it seemed.

"Hijole...you look beautiful, Pepa."

The rain stopped from shock as she looked up at him. Félix. He was standing there, in his white suit, looking good enough for her to sink into to.

"Why are you here?! It's bad luck to see a bride in her dress, especially before the wedding!"

She tried to shove him out with both her hands, but he caught them, and held onto them as he leaned in for a kiss. She wanted to be upset, but she couldn't be. Not with lips so sweet. She sighed in content when it was over, despite the fact that she very much wanted more.

"Couldn't help myself. Julio told me you were getting dressed in the other room, I HAD to see you. Give me just a few minutes, por favor."

She shouldn't. Even if he looked TERRIBLY handsome right now.

"Félix, mi mami could be back any minute, she could even hear us."

"You get to see me take my shirt off~"

Ugh, cheater. She bit her lip, before groaning.

"My god, we're doing this. Fine, shirt off, and come here."

He did as she said, hanging up his shirt, and letting her get a good look at that body. God he was big. She could tear into all that thick, juicy meat, and he'd even thank her for it. And the look in his eyes let her know he was just as hungry. Before she knew it, she was kissing him, and he had both of his hands cupping her ass, squeezing in ways that was getting her worked up too soon. He chuckled against her as he ravaged her neck in kisses.

"God you're beautiful. I missed you so much. I can't wait to marry you, and have so many babies."

"And I can't wait to cook for you every morning like a proper wife~"

"...Pepa you gotta know how to cook first-ow!"

She smacked his good nipple, making him both laugh, and recoil. She dug into his pants, pulling his cock out for him, and pumping it in her gloved hand.

"Dios, you're SO lucky I'm too horny to be angry at you."

"I know, I'm sorry, I know. I mean, a week without touching you? Without touching this pussy?"

He stopped her movements, only to sneak his fingers past her underwear, and use his big stupid fingers to rub her in little circles. She clung to his body as she rocked her hips into it. She tried to touch herself a few times this week, but it wasn't at all as good as she wanted it to be.

"Oh...mierda Félix I missed your fingers."

"I can tell, you're already wet for me. I don't know how much time we have, so ehile we have chance, let me handle you first."

He shoved two fingers inside of her, and started to finger her. He wasn't slow like how HE wanted, but fast, practically barbaric, how SHE liked it. She had no choice but to bite into his shoulder and dig into his back to keep her noises muffled. Her mami couldn't be too far, she couldn't let herself be heard getting the fingering of a life time.

"Shhh, easy Pepi. You just cum like a good little wife. On my fingers. That's it, get yourself ready for my cock. My new, wet little pussy."

She came in a hot second, and this asshole fucked her right through it. Oh she could feel herself leak onto the floor, she could taste little bits of blood from her teeth breaking through his skin. She pulled away when her head was clear enough, pushing him against a wall, and getting on her knees.

"You tell me before you finish on me, idiota."

"Course mami. Hate to smudge your pretty makeup."

She cupped him in her hand, trying not to lick her lips. She LOVED sucking cock. The taste of it, the heat, the MUSK of it all. And Félix's was just lovely. It was thick, accompanied by balls of equal proportion, and lots of pubic hair. She adorned it in kisses, looking right into his eyes as she did so. Poor guy was just as excited as she was, it was precious. She'd stall for longer, but who knew when someone would knock on that door? She pushed him past her lips, and sighed as she fit more into her mouth.

In what felt like seconds, she was pushing him in and out of her mouth, not caring how she was slobbering over him, not caring that she was being just so improper.

"Oh SHIT Pepi...why are you SO fucking good at this?"

Despite the tight hold on her head, she could see him just weaken in front of her. Absolutely mess of a man he was, staring down at his wife as she sucked him off. He was beautiful, not just with his flushed face, but with his big, hairy, sweaty body looming over her. God, she got to suck THIS off whenever she wanted? She almost wanted to demand the wedding be pushed today. She slurped still, letting her drool cascade to his balls, making it perfect for rubbing and massaging in her hands. She took him in fully, gagging for a second, and making him swear for her.

"S-shit Pepa, it's coming, I think I-"

She pulled away just before he could. She pressed that wet, hard cock against her cheek, and gave it the occasional kisses, but otherwise did nothing to help him finish.

"I want it in my pussy, Félix. You said you didn't want to ruin my makeup, right?"

"I dunno, that sounds REALLY good right now, honestly."

She gave his tip a few more licks, just to coax some precum out of him, before getting back up on her feet, and holding out her arms to him.

"Come. Take your wife."

He did as he was told. He scooped her up in his arms, pressed her body against the door, and after hiking up her dress, pushed his cock inside of her soaked, eager pussy. Félix wanted to go slow, like always, but driven mad by a week of nothing, he couldn't have such a luxury. He held onto her thighs, forced them around her, and started to thrust into her. She had to keep herself propped up with her own hands, and it was rude as hell, even though it was still TERRIBLY sexy.

"Fuck Pepi- I missed your pussy so much, I missed fucking it until you were too fucking helpless to stop me."

She was trying not to whimper, really she wasn't. She had to bite her bottom lip, and even then, it wasn't too affective.

"It m-missed you too Félix, EVERY part of me missed you! Pegarme, please!"

He thought about it for a second, given the silence, but he grunted in frustration.

"N-no. It'd be too loud."

"Por favor, PLEASE! Just one!"

Félix sighed in frustration, but after making sure she could support herself, he brought his hand down on her ass, and HARD. She was about to cry out in sheer ecstacy, when he pulled her close to him, and slapped a hand over her mouth. His words were hot, husky in his ear.

"Stay. Fucking. Quiet. You want a pussy full of cum or w-"

"You alright in there, señora?"

Oh shit. It was the lady who helped her pick this dress out. Félix pulled his hand away so she could talk to her, but, like an asshole, let his hand rub her little clit instead.

"I'm f-fine! Really I'm, mmph, so good!"

"Oh. Uhm. Okay. It's just you've been in there a while and..."

She couldn't hear her over Félix's words being purred in her ears. Words of her being a good wife, blessed to get this cock as she pleased, and blessed to be full with their babies. She fought every urge not to whimper, and in her frustration, just cut off her off mid sentence.

" I'm f-fine, just go! I'm SO close to being d-done here-!"

Oh he pulled on her fucking hair like an ass. She wanted more of him than time would allow.

"Uhm...okay. Are you sure? I can come in and see if you need help, I don't mind."

Félix chuckled in her ear, giving it just a little nibble.

"You want her to see? She sounds sweet. I bet she'd love watching you get this pussy stuffed."

"Eres tan malo- no! Really, we're-I'M fine!"

"Uh...okay. Call me if you need me."

Upon hearing her walk away, she smacked his cheek, making him chuckle.

"What's wrong with you?!"

"What? You liked it, you like it when you think we'll get caught. She's going to be real worried in a minute."

"What are you-!"

His nails dug into the back of her head, grip firm on her hair, and came. He stuffed her so full, it was so much thick, hot cum. Cum that she missed. Cum that made her toes curl in her wedding shoes. She let out one loud cry, totally by accident, before he crammed his soaked fingers into her mouth to silence her.

"Hijole Pepa- you are such a LOUD girl. So loud, with a week's worth of cum in you."

She was absolutely weak for this man, in this case, literally. When he pulled his fingers out of her mouth, she hissed at him, venom and spit in her voice.

"You're SO lucky you feel so good, you are EMBARRASSING."

"Yeah see- all I'm hearing is wedding bells, mami."

She hated him. She hated how much she loved him.

[keanureevesisbae]

sugar sugar - the wedding

Summary: It's Becky and Henry's wedding day 🥰

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Daddy kink, anal play, sex, mention of squirting, overstimulation (just what they usually do lol)

Wordcount: 2.4k

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // Previous chapter //

Today is the day. Henry is gonna marry the love of his life. When he kissed her for a short goodbye this morning, he was dragged away by Gino and Peter, who were gonna help him get ready.

Since Becky couldn’t decide who she wanted to be her maid of honor, both of her friends stepped up to the task, which caused Gino and Peter to share the duties of best men as well. He is standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for her to enter. He exchanges a look with Sehun, with whom he became good friends. He loves seeing Becky and her dad reconnect and she actually calls him a lot, even for tasks Henry himself can fix.

For example helping her with building a cabinet or something else she bought from Ikea. Normally she’d turn to Henry, but now she is quick to ask her dad for help and orders Henry , in case her dad asks, to pretend he is too busy with work to help her out.

The two of them are actively working on their bond and it warms his heart to see Becky hug her dad tightly, have their own little inside jokes and simply have the father-daughter relationship she always wanted.

The music changes and Henry looks up from Sehun, only to see Becky in her wedding dress. To describe her as breathtakingly perfect is not even enough. Her long black locks are slightly curled at the bottom of the strands, the dress hugs her in all the right places and the soft smile toying on her lips is enough to make him feel all sorts of things.

To make sure Genevieve wouldn’t nag his head off, he promised her that he would be slightly emotional when Becky would walk down the aisle, however now that she actually is walking towards him, the tears burn in his eyes. He feels the hot tear rolling over his cheek and he is quick to wipe it away.

She holds out her hand and he is quick to take it, helping her up the tiny stairs. ‘Wow,’ he says, ‘you’re gorgeous.’

‘Thank you,’ she says. ‘You look so handsome.’ She places her hand on his chest and smiles. ‘I love you,’ she mouths towards him.

‘I love you too.’

The two of them (and Genevieve) decided that the speech shouldn’t be too long, mostly because Becky said that she hates long speeches that seemed to never end. Henry barely listens anyway, because he is too enthralled, looking at his soon to be wife.

He sure is lucky.

When it’s time for the vows, Becky folds open her paper. She clears her throat a few times, looking up at him.

Oh, look at that, she’s nervous. Henry nods, a simple gesture to encourage her.

‘Growing up,’ she then says, ‘I missed out on a lot and though the dreams of meeting someone, get married and start a life together were what kept me going at the time, deep down I kinda knew it would never happen to me. No love, no care, no someone who would unconditionally show me what affection exactly entailed. Never in a million years did I think I would meet a guy like you.’

Henry squeezes in her hand as he notices the tears burning in her eyes.

‘You’re everything I ever wished for and even more than that. Henry, I know I tell you this a lot, but… Thank you for barging into my life, for completely changing it, for helping me to become a better version of myself, for believing in me and for always loving me. I don’t think I could say that I would be where I am now if it weren’t for you. I love you.’

He brings her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss on it, before grabbing his own piece of paper. Shit, he shouldn’t cry, but seeing the things he wants to say to her, is making him slightly teary. ‘Sweet Becky,’ he says, ‘believe it or not, but I accepted the fact that I would die a single man, however you changed my life for the better. I think it started with that sweet smile of yours, when I realized I never ever wanted to live another day without you. The fact it took so long before the two of us finally got together, is all my fault and I totally take the blame for that one.’

She chuckles.

‘I love you, Becky and I promise you I will take good care of you, love you forever and ever and try to be the best husband I can be for you, though you deserve so much better.’

They slide on the rings and when he finally hears the words: ‘You may kiss the bride,’ he doesn’t waste a second before pressing a loving kiss on her lips. Their first kiss as husband and wife.

‘I love you,’ he whispers against her lips. ‘I love you so much, Becky.’

‘I love you too, Henry,’ she says. ‘And I’ll forever do that.’

✤ ✤ ✤

Genevieve wouldn’t be Genevieve if she wouldn’t speech at the wedding reception. ‘Okay,’ she says, ‘if I can have your attention, please.’

The seventy guests they invited are all quiet and Genevieve gracefully thanks them.

‘I have known Becky for quite a few years now and let’s just say that she was hitting rock bottom at a very tender age.’

‘Gen,’ Becky says, frowning and pouting a little.

‘I promise you, it’ll be a lovely speech.’ Genevieve clears her throat and says: ‘She was always happy, but there was always this certain… How do I say this? Emptiness to it. Like her life didn’t have the right seasoning. But then this lady met Henry and lemme tell you: I was very jealous at first. Greg, honey, no offense, but damn, I was this close of leaving you.’

‘You and me both, baby,’ Greg chuckles.

‘The thing between these two, was that there was this spark, something they had yet to discover themselves. I mean, the two of them spend Christmas and the universe what other festive days together and didn’t confess their undying love for one another. How oblivious do you want it?’

Becky places her hand on Henry’s and with his thumb of his other hand, he caresses her wedding ring.

‘So, when these two finally admitted their love for each other, they are just disgusting as you can imagine. I hate it, but love it at the same time. You know, our sweet Becky deserves the world and Henry is the only one that comes even remotely close to what she deserves.’

‘Aw, that’s so sweet,’ Becky says.

‘Mister Sehun, kind sir, please cover your ears, because I’m gonna say something about your daughter you might not like.’

‘Gen, I swear to—’ Becky starts, while Sehun covers his ears and that’s when Genevieve says: ‘These two fuck like bunnies and honestly no one can tip to their sex life. I can know, I caught them once, but that’s all I’m gonna say about the matter.’

Becky looks over to Henry, who can’t hide his smirk, because it’s kinda funny. He presses a kiss on her temple and Genevieve gestures to Sehun to uncover his ears, as the rest of the crowd starts to laugh.

‘In conclusion, these two are everything every couple wants to be, but never will be. I’m so forever grateful that Becky found herself a good man and Henry should know that this woman is a once in a life opportunity. No matter how intense and intimidating he looks, I’ll make sure Greg will try and kick your delicious looking ass.’

Becky shakes her head, as she starts to laugh. ‘I appreciate it, Gen. Thank you.’

The afternoon turns into the night and after multiple dances, the married couple stands near the side, admiring the guests dance around. After it turned out that Sehun was a wonderful dancer, Gen and Viola pried him away from Becky to dance with him as well.

Henry wraps his arms around Becky’s waist, pressing a kiss on her temple as he gently sways her on the rhythm of the music. ‘Daddy can’t wait for all those people to go,’ Henry whispers in her ear.

‘And why is that?’ she asks, placing her hands on his.

‘Because I need to show you how much I love you, especially since you’re my wife now.’

‘Your wife,’ she says in a content tone. ‘Sounds amazing, you know?’

‘I can easily get used to it,’ he says. ‘Mrs. Cavill.’

✤ ✤ ✤

The door of their hotel suite has only shut for a second, when Henry says: ‘As gorgeous as you look in your wedding dress, I need you to take it off.’

Becky bats her eyes, as if she doesn’t understand why. ‘Why?’

‘Because you are my wife now and I need you.’ He takes off his tie and throws it to the corner of the room. ‘Fuck, baby, I need you so bad.’

‘Then you need to help me out of this thing, because I can’t reach the back.’

‘My pleasure.’ He unzips the dress and he presses a kiss on her bare shoulder. ‘I love you, baby girl.’

‘I love you too,’ she whispers. ‘I really do.’

Oh, does he love that tone. He turns her around as the dress slides down her body. ‘You’re not wearing a bra, baby girl?’

‘It has cups in it,’ she explains, as Henry explores her body with his hands. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Becky chuckles. ‘Honey, you’ve seen me naked before.’

‘I indeed do,’ he says, ‘but I haven’t seen you naked as my wife yet.’

‘Is it different?’

He nods. ‘In such a good way. I’m so in love with you and your beautiful body. Fuck,’ he mumbles, wrapping his fingers around the waistband of her underwear and pulls it down. ‘We’re married now, baby girl.’

‘I know,’ she chuckles. ‘Daddy, please make love to me.’

‘Make love?’ he asks with a chuckle. ‘I don’t know about that.’

She bites her bottom lip, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. ‘Well, let’s get you out of that suit first, okay?’

✤ ✤ ✤

Henry cannot help but completely worship Becky’s body, even as she shivers next to him on the bed. His chest is covered in her juices, as she squirted all over him as she was riding him. As she is on her stomach, her legs a little shaky and a thin layer of sweat on her back, he opens the bedside table. ‘I brought something, sweetheart.’

‘What is it?’ he hears her ask, while he pulls her up by her hips. She rests on her knees and knows exactly how to arch her back.

Shit, and this woman is his wife now.

‘It’s your favorite,’ he whispers, spreading her ass cheeks apart, brushing the cold tip over her puckered hole. She moans out loud as he slowly pushes it in. ‘Fuck, you take it so well.’ He smacks her bottom and not wasting anymore time, he thrusts his painfully hard member deep inside of her. Her hands clench into fists, as she holds on tightly on the sheets.

‘Daddy, you feel so good,’ he hears her whine. The room is filled with her moans, the nearly obscene sounds of her wet pussy and the slapping of skin against skin.

‘You feel good too, baby girl. Fuck, you’re my wife now.’ He holds tightly onto her waist, before he pulls out and turns her over. He pushes some of her hair out of her face. ‘Mrs. Cavill,’ he says, placing his hand on her cheek.

She chuckles. ‘That’s me.’

‘You’re so beautiful.’ He spreads her legs and pushes himself back into her sensitive hole. Her velvet walls wrap around his hard member and he gives her a kiss.

The night seems endless, but definitely not in a bad way. He watches her fall apart over and over again and she takes shaky breaths, hoping to regulate a bit, as she shudders underneath him.

‘How many times have you cum, baby?’ he asks, stilling his movements, to press a kiss on her cheek. ‘Tell daddy.’

‘F- Fo- Four times.’

‘Want to make that five times,’ he starts, ‘before I fill you up?’

She lets out a dragged moan, pushing her nails in his arms. ‘Please, daddy,’ she begs.

Becky is on the verge of crying as he slowly builds up the speeds of his thrusts. He watches tears running over her cheeks, but he recognizes it. He knows she’s not in discomfort, merely being so sensitive and overstimulated. As long as she doesn’t safe word or he deems it necessary to stop, he will continue.

‘You’re doing so good for me, baby girl,’ he whispers, kissing the tears away. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ she whimpers. ‘You’re amazing.’ He pounds deep inside of her and her moans are becoming louder and more desperate. ‘I can’t anymore, daddy.’

‘Tell me the word and I’ll stop.’

She doesn’t. ‘I’m tired.’

‘That’s not the word.’

Becky wraps her arms around him and gives him a kiss. ‘Are you close, daddy?’

‘I am,’ he whispers. ‘Where do you want it? Still inside, darling?’

She nods, while her walls clench around him and that’s when he spills his seed. He buries his face in her neck, his lips salty as he kisses her sweaty skin, whilst riding out his high. He has stilled his movements and asks if she’s okay.

‘Just catching my breath,’ Becky chuckles, clinging against him.

‘Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth, sweetheart.’ She laughs and he gives her a kiss. ‘You did well. Daddy’s proud of you.’

✤ ✤ ✤

Genevieve: I think you two forgot I have the room below you in the hotel

Genevieve: Goodness me, how long were you at it?

Viola: Two hours and forty seven minutes

Viola: Yes, I timed, because I had a room above you and even I could hear it

Genevieve: Since we were in on the fun, you should at least give us the details

Becky: No

Genevieve: You’re no fun

Viola: I think this was just a preview of what they are gonna do on their honeymoon

Genevieve: Oh right, the honeymoon on the sex island

Becky: You guys…

Viola: The NAKED honeymoon on the sex island

✤ ✤ ✤

Becky’s wedding dress

[txemrn]

Faded

Book/Pairing: The Royal Romance; Leo x Madeleine

Warning: angst (some dark discussion that would give away the plot); smut 🍋 (awkward, NOT sexy); language

Word Count: 3008 (+/-)

Song Inspiration: Faded by Alan Walker ft. Iselin Solheim (lyrics quoted in the text)

A/N: This is a Royal Roulette, technically, but then again, RR was created specifically for Wacky Drabbles, and I just couldn't get the word count down! Oops! Anyway, this idea came to me when I heard this song, and this story needed to be told. Some of it is canon; some of it is creative canon; some of it, well, we'll call it creativity. lol Any and all of these ideas came from my head, but I acknowledge that others have probably written similar stories (purely coincidental).

Huge special thanks to some of my sweet writing friends: @ao719, @charlotteg234, and @kat-tia801. This took a group effort, and I love you ladies so very much for pre-reading and making this story better. And as always, these characters belong to our friends at Pixelberry!

***

He was a rushing wind; my billowing sails drift me into the unknown, but I don’t care. He’s an incinerating inferno: every tradition I was taught was set ablaze by his touch. My caged heart was unlocked by him; he set the monsters running wild inside of me. In my world of propriety and decorum, he taught me to live; more importantly, he dared me to love.

He broke free: from the customs, our culture, the captivity of our world. He broke free.

Without me. And the mess is all mine to clean up, left with only a picture of our passion--a photo of the love we once shared together. But even that is fading, and will be lost.

I’m alone with my thoughts this morning on my walk. The bite of salt in the coastal breeze tickles my nose, inviting my platinum strands into a carefree dance amongst the sunrise. Adjusting my oversized tortoise-shell sunglasses, my bare toes leave the comfort of the white sand beach only to discover the sting of the barnacle laden steps to the stone jetty. But, the shallow waters never met what I needed. My soul craves to commune with the waves from the deep.

I’m lost; there isn’t enough time in the world to think this through, and yet somehow a decision has to be made. God, where are you now? Was it all in my fantasy? Were you imaginary?

Many described our relationship as ‘destiny’--no, not exactly the romance you read about in foolish fairy tales or hear about in silly love songs. Our families ran in the same spheres of wealth and power. Politics. We are royalty. Since we were close in age, we would spend countless hours together throughout our childhood and teenage years. Being the oldest son to the king, he is--well, he was--the crowned prince of Cordonia; an agreement to our nuptials started well-before my formal training specifically for his social season.

But, something was different about Leo and me. We grew quite fond of each other, a friendship that developed into sharing secret kisses in darkened corners. Was this normal for friendships? Or did we have something deeper? Was this love?

As long as I can remember, I was taught my body was not my own; I was born with a greater purpose, and in that purpose, I would bring honor to my family and my name. I would earn my place in history: a woman who gave of herself everything she could for the sake of a country. Even love.

My reputation is to be held in the highest regard. My efforts in style and wardrobe would be subject to conversation and scrutiny. My eloquence and table etiquette could determine whether or not I’d be fit to be a queen. Every eye movement, every smile, every response could bring honor or dishonor to my family. No one cared about me as long as I presented a pristine package to court, a sacrificial lamb for king and country.

But, when the moment came for me to be chosen as his bride, I felt the swelling of joy inside my chest, bursting like strobes of light for everyone to witness. Suddenly the ideas of ‘the one’ and ‘happily ever after’ that I read about in the great classics teased my senses; I wanted to cry, to scream, to laugh. My body had a sudden thirst, a yearning for him that I didn’t understand.

In my innocence, this could only be one thing.

“Countess Madeleine,” he knowingly grins, “will you do me this honor?”

Swallowing thickly, her jade eyes flutter open at the sound of her name. In a handsomely fit tux, adorning his family colors in full regalia, her future husband, the future king of Cordonia, takes a knee to present the stunning canary solitaire. The dread melts away as the butterflies overcome her nerves.

Keeping with propriety, she nods her head while curtly dabbing away tears. But, something is distracting her: she is to be relishing in her accomplishment of winning the honor, for winning all of the glory, for winning the crown. She is to be the next queen of Cordonia.

But she is overwhelmed by all thoughts of him, her husband-to-be, the father to their future children. Suddenly the life she had been training for didn’t matter; she was betrothed and in love.

Smoothing out the tightness of my heathered linen pants, I take a moment to stare at my empty ring finger. I feel soreness from the collection of tears, but I refuse to allow anymore drop on his behalf. Today is hard enough.

I hug my body, remembering the warmth of his intimate touch. I had kept myself pure for him. Until that night.

Within an hour of making his intentions known to the court, Leo scurries away with his future bride, leaving only a trail of giggles and whispers along the way to his chambers.

Shrugging off his jacket, Leo presses her petite body against the locked door. His hand gently cradles her head, his thumb tracing the length of her jaw. His lips hungrily search hers, wolfishly devouring her mouth before she can react.

“Is this okay?” he whispers under his breath, his smoldering gaze entraps her innocent eyes. Breathlessly focused on his swelling lips, she nods her head dutifully.

He places his hands on her waist before sliding them intently back onto the curves of her ass, grabbing at her fullness under her whimper. A growl becomes his breathing, staring at his prey.

“Do you love me, my future queen?”

Love. Was that love?

The hypnotic rise and fall of the waves is starting to sour my stomach, but the ocean spray is so inviting and calming on my clammy skin. Finding a smooth stone, I seek refuge from the surge of the sea’s tantrum. Relaxing under the gentle rays of the morning sunshine, I close my eyes, only to see him.

He cheats her out of her next breath, his tongue overwhelming her mouth. His eager fingers find the zipper to her ballgown. He paws at her back, his fingers brushing against the secret skin of her body.

Her bra tosses to the wayside; admiring his new found treasure, Leo’s hands plunder her supple curves. His mouth plummets to her hardening nipples, his teeth teasing her nerves with fear. The sudden twinge of pleasure thrashes her head against the door.

“Shall I continue, beautiful?” he exhales, catching his breath; but, before an answer is uttered, he stumbles back into the temptation of her perfect body. His fingers tease across the waistband of her petal pink briefs; her eyes cinch closed, her mouth unable to hold back a moan.

“Someone is enjoying themselves,” he chuckles, standing to tower over her. He kisses her cheek, leaning his mouth close to her ear. “Is this what you want?” He tucks a strand behind her ear.

“Mhmm,” her lips curl slightly, leaning into his touch.

“Do you like what I am doing for you?”

“Yes,” she softly groans.

“Yeah?” He reaches into her panties, her knees buckling to the wandering of his fingers. “Mmmm,” he pulls his hand out, licking his fingertips, “that’s my good girl. You love my touch.” He stands back, shaking off her body. Locking his eyes with hers, he casually steps backwards until he reaches the bed. He slides off his belt, unfastening his slacks.

“Come here,” he motions for her to step closer. “Show me your love for me.”

Madeleine’s eyes focus on his growing girth, bulging from his unzipped pants; but, then her gaze darts around the room. Surely he knows that she isn’t well-versed in such endeavors.

“Maddie?” he combs his fingers through her blonde tresses. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She closes her eyes. The words send a jolt of happiness through her veins. She was experiencing love. She was prepared for everything else, but this?

"Then, let me show you,” he growls, pushing her back onto the bed. Hungrily ripping off her panties, he exposes her to his touch. Youthful and pure. "Are you ready?"

He spreads her legs apart, her thighs trembling. She grips the sheets with her tiny fists. Her doe-like eyes stare into his hunting blues as she feels him touch her again; but this time, it wasn't his fingers.

With an inexperienced push of his hips, red flashes before Madeleine's eyes as she squints her eyes in pain, hiding the gathering of tears. He thrusts again; her teeth gnash at the breaking of her body. Her head thrashes back and forth, groaning as she serves a penance under his rhythmic plunges into her warm, narrow core again and again. Harder and harder. Faster. Deeper.

Without warning, the beating of her body stops, leaving her stretched, completely filled with him. Moaning her name in the company of obscenities, his breathing becomes quick and shallow despite his efforts to slow down. Sweat gathers across his brow as he savors the delicate tightness of her depths. Stumbling into his ecstasy, he loses control, pouring himself into her. The sudden rush of fullness makes her whimper, the sting begins to dull as a smile crawls across her face. His lips meet her soft, glowing skin. Finally, it’s over.

That night: it was so long ago. But, I can still feel it; I can still feel him. The smell and taste of him lingers on my tongue. I miss him.

And with that, my breathing labors as I choke out a sob. I press the back of my hand to my lips as tears cloud my vision from the Mediterranean horizon. A sour pang creeps up my throat as I cradle my tender belly with my other hand. Clenching my eyes closed, I hope to hold back the downpour of tears from my soul. God, please not again.

Madeleine's head rests on Leo's shoulder, his strong arm securely around her exposed body. Her marigold diamond catches the pale moonlight perfectly, it's brilliance mesmerizing the bride-to-be as she subtly teeters her hand on his well-structured chest. He suddenly engulfs her hand with his. Turning towards him, her lips meet his perfectly like the final piece of the puzzle, locking seamlessly in place.

"Runaway with me, Madeleine."

The flecks of evergreen in her eyes sparkle with curiosity. "What--?"

"This life, Maddie," he gently rubs her back, "is this really the life that you want-- that you'd want for us?"

She sits up, taken aback from the peculiar question. "You mean the life we're living right now? Us? Being engaged?”

“Yes--I mean, no. I--” Leo stumbles over his words, dragging his hand across his face. “I love you, and I want to be with you--” he pushes a platinum strand behind her ear, “--but do you ever wonder what it’s like out there? Out in the real world? Away from all of this pressure? Away from all of these rules?”

“Away from the public eye? Living life--” she titters into a big smile, “--like everyday people?"

"Yes." He sighs, pressing her hand against his heart. "Before long, we will be in charge. In charge, Maddie. Of an entire country." There is a quake in his voice, a quiver that even makes her feel chilled. "I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” a breath hitches in his chest. “Will I even be a good king?"

“Of course," she whispers, offering a doting smile, “Of course, Leo," her voice becomes stronger, authoritative. “You can do this. You were made for this. And while, yes, you are the king, you’re not alone.” She laces her fingers with his. “You’ll always have me. You have my support--” she kisses the back of his hand, “and most of all, you have my love.” She leans down to kiss his hand again, but rather he captures her in his arm, bringing her to his lips, making her squeal.

“I love you, Madeleine.”

She moans into his pout as he kisses her once more. “I love you, too, Leo.”

The creaminess to his baritone voice dissipates from my memory, fading away much like our love. How could I have been so foolish? I gave him everything--I promised him everything. My life, my whole existence was for him, and I naively thought that love would somehow stitch us together, that somehow we would be the monarchs that did have it all. Wealth. Power. Love. A happily-ever-after that could join the rankings of the greatest love stories ever told.

But, it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough.

The sudden rapping on the door abruptly wakes Madeleine from a deep sleep. The sunlight pours mercilessly through the windows as she grabs the sheets to cover herself.

The door suddenly tramples open, Constantine bounding first into the room, followed by his head guard Bastien. “Where is he? Where’s Leo?” The king sneers as the blonde trips out of bed, reaching for clothing. “For God’s sakes, couldn’t you two show some fucking self-control?”

Madeleine cinches the high-thread-count sheet around her body, leaving her slender shoulders and décolleté exposed. As a blush crawls across her face, the question begins to haunt her: where is Leo? He wasn’t in bed this morning. In fact, his clothes are missing from their disheveled heap that was next to her discarded dress. His watch and cell phone were missing from the bedside table. But, otherwise everything seemed to be in place.

Madeleine rushes to the ensuite bathroom, hoping to find a logical clue to Leo’s whereabouts there.

"Call him. Now," the king growls at the anxious countess.

"He's not answering us, Countess Madeleine. We assume given your current relationship with his majesty--" Madeleine nods in understanding.

"I'm sorry, but the phone number you're trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service."

Her eyebrows furrow as she ends the call. "I--I--I don't understand," she stammers, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "His phone has been disconnected--"

"Fucking ungrateful--” growls Constantine, ripping the phone from Madeleine's tiny hand, “--selfish son of a bitch!" He throws the phone against the wall, shattering it into pieces. He gruffly turns towards his future daughter-in-law. “Are you certain you dialed the right number?" He spits. Madeleine braces herself against a wall, turning her face away from him. She carefully nods, refusing to make eye contact. “Unbelievable!” Constantine knocks over some antique silver candelabras before exiting the room, leaving Bastien behind.

“Sir?’ Madeleine quietly calls to the guard, drawing closer to him, ensuring her body is covered. “What is all the commotion about? Where is Leo?”

“Leo failed to report to his morning engagements about last night festivities. According to our cameras, he left this morning through the northwest gate in an unmarked black Sudan around o’four hundred hours.”

Madeleine cups her mouth as she stumbles to sit down on the bed. She nervously combs her fingers through her tangled tresses. “What does this mean?” She spouts nervously, her body shaking with tears gathering in her eyes.

“Please try not to worry, ma’am,” Bastien carefully places a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, quickly withdrawing it when their eyes awkwardly meet at the gesture. “Um--” he clears his throat, “--I don’t know what he’s doing, but we will find him.” He turns on his heel to leave Madeleine alone when suddenly a thought hits him. “By any chance, did he mention anything to you?”

‘Runaway with me, Madeleine.’ One simple request. He asked me to just simply follow him. I thought he was joking or simply making a hypothetical request due to his uneasy nerves; but, my love for him aside, this was my calling: to serve him. If I had chosen to honor him rather than challenge him… if I had chosen to remind him of responsibility and duty rather than trying to win him over with ludicrous ideas of love in marriage…

Leo abdicated the throne.

No one speaks about royalty relinquishing their responsibilities. We’re born into this; we were made to do this. We spend our entire lives preparing, being told that it is an honor to bear such greatness, it is an honor to host such power. No one speaks of the alternative. Truth be told: if we knew there was a way to escape, to renounce such a life as this, how many of us would take that chance?

It’s been seven weeks since that awful morning. Seven weeks of silence and darkness. Seven weeks of broken dreams and false hope. Seven weeks of only one absolution: Leo had found his freedom. He wasn't coming back.

I pull out the photograph of our love just one more time as the tears gather once more in my eyes. Leo’s last words to me were ‘I love you;’ but somehow as I trace my fingers amongst the black and white print, I have to say, ‘goodbye’ for both of us this morning.

“Ms. Amaranth?”

“Yes, ma’am?” Madeleine wakes from her daydream, her voice trembling. She chews incessantly on her nails as her crossed legs bounce nervously. The sterile white walls around her seem to be closing in around her; the air grows thick, stifling. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

The dark brunette stands to come closer to the blonde. She straightens out her white coat while fixing an endearing smile on her face. She sits down next to Madeleine, taking her hand. “I asked if you are sure about this decision?”

If Madeleine had learned anything in the past two months, it's that she could only be sure about nothing. She stares at her bobbing toe, hypnotically entranced with the clicking of the clock in the exam room.

“There are other options," the doctor continues. "Adoption. Keeping the baby.”

I tear up the ultrasound picture in my hands, letting the wind chase it to the sea. The tattered pieces drift for a place to rest, sinking to the depths my soul will forever crave, a secret place far too precious for this world. For my world.

Goodbye, love.

***

Tag List (please please please let me know if you need to be added or removed!): @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @dcbbw @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @taniasethi @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09

[mimiplaysgames]

Terraqua Week Day 6 (Free Day)

Summary: Terra and Aqua are getting married—and Ven is the Bridezilla. || Word Count: 9,058

Read on AO3

A/N: @terraquaweek​ I could have never written this without my dear friend @localcryptideli​. We talked about this wedding years ago, and I promised to write it. It’s here, three years later, blending their headcanons with mine and I couldn’t be more proud of it. <3

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

the threads that tie hearts together

Terra never once considered in his entire life that his wedding preparations would include the perk of mice squeaking in his ear—but he here is, in the tailor’s studio, getting re-fitted for his tuxedo, with Princess Cinderella’s team of seamstress mice on his shoulders, measuring the length of his arms. His muscles were too big for the previous suit. 

Ven refuses to hire a proper tailor, and instead rents out the parlor so the mice could do their work in private.

Lea sits on a nearby bench by the shoe shelves, the top button of his shirt open, jabbing at his Gummiphone. He’s quite popular today, pinged every two minutes. Isa and Roxas share a mirror, trying to get the mechanics of their bow ties right. 

Terra is getting married. 

The thought. Married. Soon. Yes. Damn. He can’t cry right now.

Terra stands in front of a mirror and bends his elbows to see how the fabric moves. The mice are tiny, three of them in skirts. They’ve developed an efficient obstacle course of threads all down his entire body, a network so the mice on the floor can deliver them supplies—spools, sewing needles, thumbtacks, measuring tape—in a jiffy. 

Lea groans, squeezing his Gummiphone. “This twerp is going to turn me into a serial killer.” He yawns, possibly for the fortieth time.

“Not an ill-fitting job, all things considered,” Isa says from across the room.

“I do appreciate your sarcasm.”

“Who’s bothering you?” Terra asks, lifting his collar so the mouse on his left could thread through it with a sewing needle.

Lea snorts, slaps his knee and leans forward. “Did you not know your buddy is a monster?”

“Ven?”

“Oh, he’s a joy.” Lea holds his Gummiphone up as if he’s about to make a speech. “Come help me pick out Aqua’s flowers. Now. If you could.” He glances at Terra, then back at the phone. “He writes that in all-caps.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be so pushy.”

“The other day, he called me to model the bride’s dress because Miss Aqua couldn’t be bothered to come to the fitting herself.”

“Master Aqua was away on a mission,” Isa explains.

“Isa took photos of me in it—” Lea scrolls through his phone, but stops. “Oh, I can’t show you before...” He clicks his tongue. “It’s very nice. Very bridal.”

Terra is sure that’s true, but the image of Ven hanging his head so much on someone else’s wedding is worrisome. Last night, he fell asleep at dinner. “I think Ven is taking on too much stress.”

“Lea,” Roxas says, snorting a chuckle and giving up on his bow tie, “you should show him the texts.” 

“Gladly.” Lea stands to shove the Gummiphone into Terra’s face. Out of the history, a couple of messages stand out.

Ventus

I got 500 cake flavors come taste them with me

Ventus

Which cologne do you think terra should wear

COME SMELL 

i need a second opinion

Ventus

Do you have aqua’s flowers yet?

remember 

we want orange roses and bluestars

Ventus

Aqua isnt here im freaking out

Youre closest to her body type

HELP

After all that, Terra feels as though he’s being watched by several microscopic eyes. One of the mice squeaks with urgency, and he straightens one of his arms. “I don’t know what to say... Why doesn’t he talk to me directly?”

Lea purses his lips as though this is a secret not worth sharing. Roxas is the one to step forward, a knowing grimace plastered on his face.

“He told me that he doesn’t want to bother you with anything.”

That doesn’t sound entirely false but not true either.

“That’s ridiculous.” Terra tests the bend of the elbow to fiddle with his bow tie. It’s already done but something about it doesn’t sit right. “He could come to me for anything,” he says with a low voice, wondering if there’s something he’s missing. Terra has also been a mess. He’s getting married. Holy stars. 

Isa huffs out of frustration, turning away from the mirror, his bow tie undone. He studies Terra’s suit. “I don’t like it.”

His straightforwardness is well appreciated. Aqua would probably smirk at the sight of it and stare at his neck the entire ceremony. “I don’t either,” Terra says.

“Smart man.” Isa smirks, and tugs Terra’s bow tie to undo it. “Let’s change it.”

Lea snorts. “You might want to ask permission from he-who-shall-be-slapped.”

“It’s my wedding,” Terra says.

“So you think.”

He-who-may-be-slapped enters the tailor’s parlor through the front entrance, announced by the bell of the ring. He’s perfectly dressed in his ringbearer’s/best man’s/maid of honor’s suit, vest fitted, bow tie sublime, sleeves coiffed. He sees what Isa is doing. He gapes.

“Hey guys,” Ven asks with a frustratingly shaky voice. “What are we doing?”

“They are unbecoming,” Isa answers, wrapping a traditional tie around Terra’s neck.

“Oh.” 

Sometimes, speaking to Isa is like getting clocked in the stomach. By the looks of Lea’s expression, chewing on the edge of his Gummiphone, it’s well deserved.

“Okay,” Ven says, with a tight smile. He takes the tie from Isa’s hands. “Do they match?”

“A hello would be less rude,” Terra says. “Hi, Ven. Can we talk?”

Ven glances up. “Later. There’s lots to do.”

Lea inhales sharply. “Hey, Ven. Here’s an idea. Did you know you could tame cicadas to sing in harmony on command?”

Ven whips his head around. “You can?”

Isa brings a hand up to hide a smirk and Lea passes him a subtle wink.

“Picture it.” Lea opens his arms. “From nine until eleven at night, they gather in the bushes. They mutter, a light dusting of atmosphere on a peaceful summer night.”

Ven’s eyes grow wide with obsession. 

Roxas comes near. “You can also make them glow.”

“Like stars in the bushes,” Ven whispers to himself.

“Come on, guys,” Terra says, unimpressed. “Leave him alone. We’ve got better things to do.”

Ven snaps himself out of it, but not before pulling out a notepad and writing notes. He eyes Terra over, nudging him to open his arms and pinching the sides of the suit. Ven draws them in by the measure of a finger and pulls pins out of his pocket, like he’s been expecting to use them, and marks their places. “Jaq Jaq,” he calls, “where’s Suzy? We need to make sure these ties look right. Oh, and we need two extras—we have to ship some to Riku and Sora.”

Some mouse squeaks in reply.

“I can help her carry things.” Ven gives a flash of a smile and then hurries off.

Out of earshot, Lea gives Terra a look. “Anyone able to talk to mice is a crazy person in my book.”

Terra glares back and quotes, “‘You could tame cicadas to sing on command?’”

“He needs something to obsess over. How else am I going to get peace?”

“This is going to bite you in the ass,” Roxas says, wrapping his new tie over the neck and having a much easier time.

“Ventus may very well task you with hunting and gathering the cicadas,” Isa says, a tie already in place, immaculate. 

Lea groans and Terra feels it’s well deserved. 

Well deserved… the suit may be. The future wife, maybe not. The suit is a glove for every finger with no excess. It makes him a good-looking groom, a nice addition to the closet for any special occasion. The bride is beautiful, no matter what she wears. She is loyal, patient, strong, intelligent, loving, funny when she’s stern, too good for him, a divine gift he didn’t earn and he still can’t understand how she said yes.

“I hope you’re laughing at the face of my misery,” Lea says.

Terra knows that’s sarcasm. Weddings are headaches, emotions are terrifying and Terra needs Aqua like a sip of medicinal tea to calm down.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The others squeal when they walk into Le Grand Bistro. It’s sunset, the city lights already ignited and giving it the glow of evening fairies welcoming the moon. They’ve just discussed dresses—Xion requests a pantsuit instead, which looks stellar—and they can choose their own styles so long as they all wear the color of night. Simple, elegant. That’s the kind of effect Aqua prefers. Thank goodness they’re almost done. Aqua couldn’t handle more hands in her hair and she rejected the flower crown that would have come down on one side to compensate for the lack of length. 

She fiddles with the ring—a thin, intricate design weaved around a small, blue stone—as a waiter escorts them to the kitchen. On days when she doesn’t have missions, she wears it.

Aqua is getting married. Some part of her wonders about the surreality of it, like it’s a dream or a picture she created in her mind when she was a child, at the altar with a faceless person next to her. Sometimes, it feels like she is already married. Terra has always been with her. Every day in class. Every day strolling through the woods. Every day sparring, sharing meals, bickering and laughing. Her best friend, her confidant, her rock.

There is something about nearly dying that challenges perspective. When they both thought they’d never see each other again, it made them realize there’s more to it and there’s been more to it for years. The emotional intimacy that strengthened after the fact. The physicality of it, when he takes her to bed. They argue differently, they laugh the same. Terra has always been with her, so what is the difference between being with him and being married to him? A part of her is eager to find out. The other is already at peace, a kind of joy Aqua has always wanted.

Ven is in the kitchen, talking with Remy (responding to Remy, who is naturally unintelligible). Plates of cake pieces sprawl out on the table, eliciting oohs and aahs from the others, all patient like they’re waiting for Aqua’s permission to take a small bite.

Aqua reads through the description of flavors—strawberry, fudge, angel food cake with blueberries, red velvet, even coffee. “The one we requested isn’t here.”

“You mean…” Ven pulls out his notepad and looks through his notes. Remy climbs onto Ven’s head, squeaking and pointing to a bowl of flour and eggs, unmixed. “Dark chocolate and rum?”

“That would be correct.”

“A spicy cake? Are you insane?” At his shock and at Aqua’s denial, Kairi helps herself to a spoonful of vanilla. “This is a wedding, not a club!”

“My wedding, Ven.” Aqua isn’t annoyed, but amused. Ven has such strong opinions about for some reason. 

“Try this one.” He holds up a plate of a decorated piece that honestly looks delicious. “Triple chocolate, with the rarest berries found in the woods, matured at thirty-five degrees Celsius for a week.” 

“Burnt cake?” Kairi asks with a smirk.

“Not the cake, the berries.” 

“Oh,” Xion gasps, with need in her eyes. It takes a nod from Aqua to grab a fork and have at it. She approaches each piece with so much excitement— Aqua wonders if there are flavors here she’s never tried before in her short life. 

“What will the final cake look like?” Naminé asks, the only one not to dive forward. She’s so gentle, so serene. When they were trying out dresses, everyone was saying what a beautiful bride she’ll be one day if she chooses. 

“Perfect,” Ven says, like it’s the most obvious thing. “It has to be perfect so it will look beautiful. Painted like a night sky, with stars everywhere. You got that, Remy?”

Remy glares at Ven.

“I want,” Aqua starts, and when Ven frowns, she smirks. Sometimes, for the sake of maintaining control, she has to play dirty. “Rosewater and cardamom.” 

Ven sticks his tongue out in disgust.

“Terra needs something to enjoy,” Aqua insists. “These are all too sweet for him.”

“Terra is the bane of my existence.”

“By the way, I don’t know if I want King Mickey and Queen Minnie to officiate.”

“You are way more difficult to deal with.”

Aqua and Ven have a staring contest as the others talk about their favorite flavors. Ven, a glare, a challenge to outwit her. Aqua, a calm knowing that she’s going to win. Ven relents.

“Fine,” he stresses. “Remy, change of plans. We’ll need some damage control. Let’s add some”—he writes into his notepad—“fruit pastries, sweet cheese with chocolate—”

“Triple chocolate,” Kairi adds.

“Custard and kiwi,” Xion says.

“All good choices.” Ven writes them down.

“Sea salt ice cream?” Naminé says, lifting a shoulder. “Everyone else eats them, I hope to try some.”

“Ven.” Kairi slams a hand on the table. “You need to add marshmallows covered in hazelnut and chocolate.”

“We need all the chocolate,” Ven agrees. “Call it revenge on this nasty cake.”

Kairi cackles, but it’s nothing malicious. They’re young and excited about the wedding, their suggestions a way of helping. Aqua takes it all in stride. The small details don’t matter, only the intent, and letting friends have fun deciding makes the entire process easier. What’s bothering her is Ven. He’s exhausted from taking it all too seriously. Aqua assumes the best intentions, but she doesn’t get it.

“You know what would be really cute?” Xion says. “Little petit fours shaped in your symbols.”

Ven blinks. “What symbols?”

“Oh, the Keyblade Master symbols.” Naminé claps her hands. “That would be so lovely.”

“In different colors,” Xion says.

“Each a different flavor,” Naminé adds. “Maybe the same colors as your Wayfinders?”

“You two are geniuses.” Ven taps his notepad. “Remy, we gotta get to work.”

Remy stomps a paw and squeaks vigorously.

“No worries. You’ll get paid.” Though it seems that’s the last thing on Remy’s mind.

“Ven,” Aqua says softly, pulling him aside as the others brainstorm ideas. “I don’t think we can afford all this.”

“Sure you can,” he says too confidently, though she and Terra were the ones to save up their munny. “Don’t worry,” he stresses when she’s not convinced, giving her a squeeze on the arm. “You asked me to bookkeep your finances” 

“Reminder that I did not ask you to take full responsibility. Remy can’t do all of this alone, he’s going to need you.”

“I’ve got plenty of time, and we’ve got plenty of budget.”

Aqua does not know how that is possible. After the dresses, the refitting of Terra’s tux, the decorations… sure, since they’re using the ballroom in the Land of Departure, they saved on not having to rent out a venue, but the original plan was to have a small, intimate wedding in the woods, something private with just the three of them, minimal decorations necessary, all plucked from nature. 

All of this is out of their price range.

Ven goes back to the table, back to the stovetop and oven where he follows Remy’s instructions and mixes the flour in the bowl with some milk. He doesn’t assuage her at all, like he knows something she doesn’t.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Home should be a solace but not when it’s the wedding rehearsal. 

Ven has ushered in movers from different worlds to carry in artifacts, all decorations, all star-themed. Terra has yet to see the ballroom, but the amount of people rushing through the hallways makes him nervous. 

Ever since Terra called Riku in the dead of night (in a panic, needing someone to talk to, alone in the kitchen with a cracked mug of tea), blabbing about tripping on the way to the altar, or cutting the cake clean through the table, or stepping on linen and ripping the curtains, or dropping his plate of food, or looking like an idiot on the dance floor, or worse—forgetting his vows—he hasn’t lived a moment of peace. Sora won’t let him. 

Terra finds it hard to breathe. What if he chokes on his vows and accidentally offends everyone?

He stays far away from the workers—it’s for the best. No one needs a huge bull stampeding in a china shop, destroying everything.

Lea crosses the hallway on his sixth trip and enters one of two entrances to the ballroom, vases of flowers in his hands. Terra peeks. From the looks of it, Ven did a fantastic job. 

The ballroom, once gold, now looks like the set of night. The ceiling is covered in blue with twinkling lights. The table linens are also dark, with napkins and silverware sets a solid gold. Glass windows that take up one entire side to the ballroom are bare of curtains—the wedding is planned for after sunset so they’d be declaring their vows under the stars. Two navy blue carpets come in through both entrances of the ballroom, meeting in the middle and then straight to the altar at the far end. The point is for him and Aqua to enter together, like equals. With her in a bridal dress, she’ll look like a light in the darkness.

Through the doorway, Terra can see Riku and Sora, the latter making motions with his arms as if he’s flapping like a bird. Terra lets the door close so they don’t notice him. 

There are fears he’s never voiced.

What if she realizes she doesn’t want to get married to him after all? At the altar no less?

Oh stars, what if he makes a terrible husband? 

What if he neglects her?

What if, years down the road, she realizes after a slowly oncoming epiphany that she isn’t happy and regrets it?

Tonight is the party, tomorrow is the wedding, and Terra still has no vows. He pinches his nose hard enough to distract him from crying. He’s already cried five times in the arc of three hours.

Footsteps—light, brisque, confident, hers—approach him, and Terra embraces her in his arms, taking her in with a needy kiss. She smells like home, she lets him breathe again. 

“You look like you’re about to fall apart,” she says, stroking a thumb on his cheek.

“Not if you’re my glue.”

She snorts, smacking him on the bicep. “What did I say about the puns?”

“Shower you with them.”

He kisses her before she can roll her eyes—

—and gets interrupted the moment Ven peeks out of one door. 

“What’s with the hold-up?” he says.

Terra breaks from the kiss, casually noticing how Aqua is patting his shoulder, as if to warn him. “What’s with your attitude?”

Ven pouts like he’s about to choke and slaps the notepad to his forehead. “No one listens to me. I said baby blue and champagne on the napkins, all shaped to form the constellation of Juno… and they gave me yellow. I am gonna complain so much.”

“There are worse things?” Terra says and Aqua shakes his shoulder as another warning. 

Ven snaps his eyes open. “Get into position, we’re starting.”

Aqua stands behind one door and Terra goes to the other, waiting for the cue to enter. On the other side, Ven is speaking out loud, organizing people and where they should stand. Grooms and bridesmaids will enter the altar from behind and gather together, leaving the carpet only for the star couple (no pun intended). He interrupts himself, raising his voice about vases that match too much and Terra can imagine him pointing across the room.

“I have to tell you something,” Aqua loudly whispers from the other side of the hall. 

Terra runs to her and wraps an arm around her waist. Touching her is a panacea. Despite knowing there is still a possibility she’ll rethink this entire relationship, it seems unreal, like a nightmare.

“It’s about Ven,” she continues, keeping her voice low even though they’re the only ones in the hall.

“Lea threatened to slap him.”

She frowns.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Don’t you think it’s too expensive?”

“I don’t know. Ven doesn’t tell me how much anything costs.”

“It’s way more than we have saved up.”

Terra gapes. “Then how—?”

Aqua stammers, fiddling with her fingers. “I looked into his books.”

Terra melts into a breath-heavy laugh, careful to keep his voice out of it. “Reading people’s diaries? Aqua, I thought I knew you better.”

She blushes. “I didn’t mean to, but I was worried.” Now Terra is worried. Her expression is too serious. “Ven has been doing side-missions and hustles for months just to earn enough to hire the best chefs and tailors, to buy linens and all these flowers and carpets—” 

“He wouldn’t.”

“He did.”

“Why?” 

“I think it’s because he wants us to be happy.”

“We are.” Terra doesn’t appreciate how he doesn’t sound confident, scared he’s assuming too much on her behalf. “How could he just…”

“We were stuck in darkness for so long and he couldn’t help us.”

“But that’s not his fault.”

“He feels he is the weakest and wants to compensate.” Aqua grimaces and she blinks back tears. 

“I feel so guilty.”

“I feel worse.”

“Why?”

Aqua bites her lip. “I’m still attached to the idea of a small, intimate ceremony in the woods. Just the three of us. Does that make me a horrible person?”

“No. Our wedding has become a spectacle. Maybe pointing that out makes me terrible, too.”

She groans. “I found a book. I left it in your room. It’s very last minute, but there are some ancient rituals in there that I found so beautiful… the exchanging of rings is beautiful, too, but modern and there are some lost traditions from our Keyblade history that I’d love to do instead... if you could take a look?” 

The way she smiles, stars. Ancient, modern, he’d do anything for her. “Sure. I’ll read it tonight.”

Aqua winces. “He’ll be so angry with us.”

Terra squeezes her hand. “He wants us to be happy. Think about that.”

One of the doors burst open, and Lea sticks his head out. “Kindly stop being an ass and don’t keep your guests waiting anymore?”

They start: Terra at one entrance, Aqua on the other, entering the ballroom at the same time, where guests will watch them approach one another, like the shadow of the moon to a star. They meet at the point where their lanes merge into one. 

Terra offers his arm—

“Nonono,” Ven warns, running up to them. “You can’t meet her like this. You must bow at a forty-degree angle.” Ven scans the room frantically. “Here, I have a ruler.”

After that hiccup, Aqua finally takes Terra’s arm, walking down the single aisle, where guests can ogle at them. Their groomsmen and bridesmaids take pictures with their Gummiphones for their arrival at a wall of flowers. 

Sora has his hands behind his head and snickers when they reach the end. “I made sure the carpet is ironed out so she doesn’t fall with you.”

“I’m going to kick you in the shins,” Terra says.

He snorts and wipes his nose. “I’ll kick you back.”

At the altar, Ven is too excited to stop rambling. “We have to make sure that you arrive here, at this spot, at exactly nine-thirty so we can finish the vows at ten because...” He frames the windows with his hands. “We’ve got a perfect spot for star sighting so we need to be on time.”

“Do you mean, right after the wedding ceremony?” Aqua asks. 

“Before the reception, yup. We’re walking out to the balcony, we’ll watch the meteor shower where a new world will be born, then we’ll come back in for supper and dancing.��� When he notices their stupefied faces, he continues, “I spent three weeks finding the right angulations so you can witness a unique astronomical event, and we’ve got a miracle of a spot right here so we can’t be late.”

“It’s a wonderful thought, Ven,” Aqua says, her voice shaky.

“Okay, now you get into position and face each other.” He points and they follow. “Next, Mickey and Minnie will talk some stuff, you know, all official, and then you say your vows.”

Terra freezes up. “Our vows.”

“Yeah. That’s what I said. You ready?”

Terra hesitates and Aqua speaks for him. “We’re keeping those a secret until tomorrow.”

Ven pauses, then shrugs. “Fair enough.”

Aqua doesn’t let Terra have another thought, leaning forward to kiss him in front of everyone (aahs and awws elicited), and ending the rehearsal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“How do you get your skin so clear?” Kairi asks, though the warm glow of the fire makes for spectacular lighting. 

They’re camping in the woods near the waterfall, equipped with warm blankets and pillows, a bowl of cookies, and toasted marshmallows on sticks; Aqua’s vision of a bachelorette party. No gifts necessary.

“Mountain spring water does wonders for you,” Aqua says.

“I’ve read in a magazine,” Xion says, crawling out of her sleeping bag, “that some people like to put mud on their faces to get clean skin.”

“Why?” Naminé asks, chewing on a marshmallow.

“Something about the properties. Lots of good minerals.” She walks over to the creek, digging her hands into the dirt and smashing it into her face against the shocks and cries of the other girls. “If mountain water is good for you, then that must mean this mud is magical.” 

“Is that true?” Kairi says, though she’s asking no one. She hurries over and joins in on the mud-mashing, running fingers over Xion’s face in places she’s missed.

With globs of mud in their hands, they bring over the excess to the camp. 

Xion offers it to Aqua. “For beautiful skin on your special day?”

“It’s our job to pamper,” Kairi says with her hands out so that Naminé can scoop up the mud on her own. 

Aqua tries not to chuckle too loudly. It’s adorable. “Okay,” she says, and Xion gets to work, massaging it into her skin. It smells unpleasant, earthy and mukky. She closes her eyes and tries to relax regardless.

“I think we’re supposed to keep it on our faces for at least a half hour,” Xion says, rubbing more on Aqua’s nose. 

“This will make us prettier?” Naminé asks.

“Cleaner,” Kairi says. 

Naminé blinks, already covered in the mud and hesitating to put on more. “But we look dirty,” she says quietly.

“Can I request something, Miss Aqua?” Xion says, patting her fingers onto Aqua’s forehead.

“Certainly.”

“Can you tell us the story of how Terra proposed?”

Kairi jumps and squeals, and Naminé claps her hands, both of them chattering please, please, we’re dying to know.

“We’re around a fire,” Kairi says, as if that’s a convincing argument. “We’re supposed to tell stories.” 

“I feel bad for asking,” Naminé says. “You’re very private, and I don’t want to intrude…”

Aqua reads her face. “But you’re curious.”

Naminé pouts. Xion’s eyes go wide, and Kairi nods excitedly. Everyone is guilty as charged.

“It’s a simple story, I guess,” Aqua says, crossing her legs and watching the fire. It’s not often that she talks so openly about the details of her relationship. The two of them together is something people know, but never knowing where they come from and why, except for Ven—even then, there’s so much he never pries to. Watching their reactions is a little overwhelming. She rubs the stone on her ring. “Terra made the engagement ring with his own hands, but he took months to propose.”

“I remember that,” Xion says, sitting on her chair and smiling. “It annoyed Lea so much that he offered to set you both up just to get it over with.”

Aqua laughs. “I’m grateful we had it to ourselves.”

“Was it romantic?” Kairi asks.

“Not at all. I… knew he was up to something. I know him.” She lifts a shoulder. “He was burning breakfast too often, he couldn’t look me directly in the eye, and he left on his own to do more missions than usual. I took that as though he had done something wrong. The last time he was that clumsy and avoidant, it was because he accidentally cast Firaga in the library and was trying to hide it. Or when he broke the oven. Or when he offered to do my laundry but didn’t know how to treat my fabric and ruined my clothes.”

“He sounds like a clumsy oaf,” Kairi says.

That makes Aqua smile. She loves that oaf. “He is. The general rule of thumb is that a clumsy, avoidant Terra is usually hiding something.”

“So how did the proposal happen?” Naminé asks.

“I cornered him—”

Kairi snorts.

“—and he blurted it out.”

They giggle, Kairi acting out how that may have looked and Naminé holding her hands over her heart in a show of genuine affection. 

Aqua smiles to herself, a finger to her lips. It might be her favorite memory, her standing her ground and demanding to know what was going on. 

Terra, looking all around the terrace except for her face, guilty, guilty, guilty, pulling a box out of his pocket and stammering for a cohesive sentence. Well, I don’t know what to say, he had said, like a child getting grounded. I-I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I’m a big lump of a human being. He paused, his cheeks rounding up like he was about to vomit. Will…will you marry me, anyway?

It felt like racing in a train and pulling all the stops, crashing. He got red in the face, tears welling in his eyes and she realized he took her silence as rejection. Aqua had to hold his forearms, and all she could utter was a soft, I genuinely thought you burned down a building.

Terra’s eyes went wide. Do you mean you’re not mad?

Of course not. Why would I be?

So… He licked his lips, reaching for her but not touching her, forgetting that he had the box with the ring inside. What do you say? I mean, you don’t have to give me an answer straight away. I mean, I just thought you would… you know… because… He sighed. Yeah.

Aqua finally laughed, and kissed him on the cheek. Of course I will marry you, you beautiful dork.

The laughter quiets around the fire. They’re waiting for Aqua to continue her story.

“Then he drops the ring.”

They howl, melting into a blissful exchange of cheers and gossip, a vibrant hearth brighter than the one keeping them warm. 

“I had hoped to propose first, actually,” Aqua continues. She shrugs. “The end.”

“That was beautiful,” Naminé says, wiping her eyes.

“If Sora hears about this, he’ll never leave Terra alone,” Kairi says, grinning something mischievous. 

“I don’t know what love is supposed to look like,” Xion says thoughtfully, gazing at the sky. “But it sounds sweet.”

In Aqua’s opinion, the proposal was perfect, him scattered on the ground frantically searching for the ring, her on her knees helping him. How he slipped it on her finger, how they kissed for an hour in the dirt, unaware that they were dusty, unaware that anyone else existed in the world. 

Aqua nods, mostly to herself. It aches to be away from Terra tonight but it burns her insides to see him tomorrow and finally do this. Aqua wants to sleep and get this night over with but she doesn’t want to sleep so she could see the sunrise, knowing he’d be up early watching the same thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bachelor parties aren’t fun.

Sora is whooping about a cannonball, the water splashing when he makes contact. Ven and Roxas race to the lake, testing who will be the first to dive, the first to swim across and come back. Considering the expanse of the surface area, they’ll be gone for a while and the barbecue will get cold, but maybe it’s for the best. It’s not the right time to talk to Ven right now, not when all of them have a moment of fun (except for Terra, the only one here thinking about tomorrow). Lea and Isa prefer to relax, sipping drinks on their chairs by the lanterns erected onto the sand, speaking quietly about memories, about chores, about home and what ifs. 

Terra sits by himself, the thin booklet Aqua gave him on his lap, tucked under layers of parchment. It’s titled The Way, no author. She was right: old Keyblade rituals are interesting, almost possessive, their focus on the literal binding of hearts. They’re from the Age of Fairytales, and Terra realizes as he reads through it that ancient Keyblade wielders were for some reason obsessed with the loss of memory and the prevention of it. The rituals sound painful, too—maybe Aqua has developed a mild taste of macabre from her time in the Realm of Darkness. 

All Terra has left to do are his vows. His stupid, dorky-sounding vows. He should have accepted the simple, “I do.” He shouldn’t have waited until the last minute.

He’s tried dramatic.

You are my other half, my heart, my breath of life, my sky, my angel, can we keep our souls together? 

He’s tried poetic.

The mountain will thirst if not for the water— 

He’s tried being honest.

I don’t know why you love me, but I’ll do my best to make it up to you.

All dumb.

Terra groans into his hands, eyes wide in existential blunder. 

“Keep doing that,” Riku says, setting a chair next to him and sitting down, “and you won’t be able to blink again.”

“I’m not finished.”

“But if you don’t sleep, then you’re more likely to have accidents.”

Terra gapes and almost whacks Riku on the side of the head from the sight of his constricted smirk. “You’re so mean. I called you one time.”

“In a huge panic talking about causing mass destruction of a wedding the worlds have never seen.” Riku shrugs nonchalantly. That’s his state of being—too cool for anything, too sensitive for everything. It’s refreshing. “It was the funniest phone conversation I’ve ever had.”

“I’ll never call you again.”

“Not in the middle of the night, please no.” Riku bites a forkful of steak. “Is it cliché to tell you to speak from the heart?”

“This entire conversation is cliché, but here I am, living it out.” Terra stares at his messy pages, where he pressed the pen so hard that it left ink blots.

“You could do the very committal thing and tell her you love her fifty times.”

“All the guests would leave by the time I reach twenty-five.”

“More like fifteen.”

“Ten.”

“Disaster.”

Terra grimaces, not entirely comforted, but not entirely anxious anymore, either. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“It is a big deal, I’ll give you that,” Riku says, more serious. “I don’t have any advice.”

“None of it makes sense. Be honest, but not too honest. Be loving, but don’t make it cheesy. Express yourself, but hold back on certain things. Do make it personal. Don’t expose personal details. How am I supposed to know how to do it right?” 

It would be easier if there are no witnesses. If it’s just Ven, if Aqua is the only person he’s talking to, if he could simply say, You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I know I’ve fucked up. For as long as I live, I’ll never do that again. I will never take your forgiveness for granted.

And if she doesn’t want to be with him anymore, there’d be nothing he could say to make her stay.

“I think if Aqua was the kind of person who expected you to do it right,” Riku says, looking out to the lake where Ven and Roxas are swimming back to their shore, “you wouldn’t be marrying her.”

Terra bends the pages, exposing the cover of the thin, leather bound booklet. There are no vows he could use in there, except for the officiator declaring their hearts intertwined. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

“Sorry I can’t be of more help.” 

Riku pats him on the shoulder and leaves him alone to take a walk, Sora begging him to enter the water. Terra flips to a page where he’s repeated I love you, I love you all over, each in different calligraphy, like doodling, like losing his mind and procrastinating the night away, hoping that any moment, inspiration would drop bricks on him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It’s time.

The strangest part of the day is waiting it out in her bedroom until it’s her turn to show herself. Over the years, her bedroom has been a reflection of her personality. The cleanliness, the artifacts from her home world long ago, the size of the bed, the furniture—they all stayed the same. What’s come and gone were the paint colors, the bedsheets, the art on the wall, the smaller vanity mirror. Her bedroom is her old life, and she sits in front of the mirror in her bride’s dress, about to start a new one. For now, they both collide, as though her childhood doesn’t know her.

The cape dress is simple, plain white with the neck scooped across the collarbone. The sleeves slit at the shoulders, draping over to the floor with the rest of the train. Aqua couldn’t have asked for something better. She completes the look with the ring, a jeweled hair pin on one side, and an armored choker. Makeup is minimal. 

Aqua is surprisingly calm and the sun is going down. 

Her Gummiphone buzzes with a text message.

Terra

Let’s do it

Aqua sighs, not texting back immediately.

Aqua

I don’t want to break Ven’s heart

Terra

I’ll talk to him

We can both get what we want

I already stole some flowers from the wall

Don’t think he notices

She chuckles, moving a hair strand behind her ear. She hasn’t noticed that her stomach has been a knot, from excitement, from nerves, from anticipation. The sun takes so long to set. Terra is the warmth of a tight blanket.

Aqua

Will this label me as a runaway bride?

Terra takes a long time to answer, giving her the impression that he must have been distracted and forgot to reply. 

It buzzes.

Terra

The shame

Aqua

What will they think when they find out the groom seduced her to it

Terra

The scandal 

when they hear how she met him secretly at the creek 

an hour before the ceremony

It sounds like an action plan. Aqua picks up her bouquet of orange roses and bluestars from her vanity table, heading out the door.

Aqua

I want Ven there

Terra

Definitely

I love you

Aqua

I love you too

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Terra finds Ven in the dining room, taking inventory of an indulgement of sweets and a feast of meats, fritters, and rice. The wedding cake is as tall as his body, a dark blue with smacks of gold glitter in the shapes of galaxies, large stars framing each layer, and topped with two halos. Ven is mostly dressed in his vest and tie, the suit missing. By comparison, Terra is overdressed, a groom ready for his encore.

Ven sighs when he sneaks a cookie the shape of the Keyblade Master symbol into his mouth, as though Terra’s presence reminds him of disappointment. 

“I couldn’t tame the cicadas,” he says morosely, like he’s apologizing, and for a moment Terra second-guesses what he’s about to do. Ven eyes the white rope curled around Terra’s shoulder. “What’s that for?”

“This may either cheer you up or piss you off,” Terra says, dropping The Way on the counter.

“I don’t like how you said that.” As Ven flips through pages, he frowns, chewing on the side of his lip. “Are you... not happy with the wedding preparations?”

Terra inhales, caught off guard. “Of course I am. Happy, I mean. It’s… huge. It’s a giant ordeal.”

“And you don’t like that,” Ven says quietly, stroking one of the pages with his thumb.

“I think there are things we’ve always wanted to have privately.” Terra sits on a stool, but Ven won’t look him in the eye. “And we want you to be there. We can do it now. We’ll be back in time for our guests.”

The booklet shakes in his hands. “I messed up.”

“From my point of view, I’ll be eating very well tonight. There’s nothing to compensate for.”

Ven closes the book. “I just wanted to do a good job.”

“If you allow Lea to slap you, he’ll forgive you.” Terra smiles, but Ven doesn’t join him. “We’re still doing your grand ceremony—that, we could never pull off on our own. But we also want something tiny and ours, and we won’t do this without you.” Terra takes Ven’s hand and squeezes it, before glancing at the cake. “I hope it’s delicious.”

“It’s disgusting so you’ll definitely like it.”

“See, I can always count on you.” Terra stands up. “Now come on. You wouldn’t want us to be late for the bride.”

Terra takes him to the creek, not far from where Aqua hosted her bachelorette camp, where the sound of rushing water is gentle and the creek splits into two directions, one that would drip off the side of a cliff and one that would join a massive river downstream. The trees huddle close in the clearing, a soft shadow from the fierceness of the setting sun, like a pocket of protective magic in the middle of the forest. 

Ven gasps. “You stole my flowers.”

“Please, you didn’t even notice.” Terra had built an easy wooden arbor before the crack of dawn that morning, an arch weaved with orange and blue flowers, spotted every so often with green lilies. He showered right after so no one would suspect.

“Let’s take it over there.” Ven points to a short boulder against a tree nearby, a good photo op. They pluck the arbor up from both sides and plant it in front of the boulder. Ven takes stock of the sight. “Not bad.”

“Thanks!”

“I take credit for the choice of flowers.” Ven rolls the rope into a tight circle, layering it on the boulder with each loop in equal circumference. He splays the book open and studies. “It’s kinda creepy,” he says though he gets no response and he doesn’t ask for one.

Terra shoves his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo and waits. Aqua isn’t here yet. The vest constricts his breathing, the thicket suddenly feels humid, and Terra wipes his cheek, realizing that his heart is beating fast. Time sped up to this moment and dropped him here without warning. Now it’s slowing down out of pure, unjustifiable spite to torture him in the final hour. 

“You okay, dude?” Ven asks.

Terra lifts his face to the sky to keep the tears in his eyes. “If I cry now, I think I’ll cry for the rest of the night.”

Ven snorts. “No one would be surprised, trust me.”

But it’s not working. He’s two seconds from sobbing. “I don’t know. I…” He scoffs. “I can’t believe it’s happening. I’m expecting her to never show up or brush me off last minute when she realizes what we’re doing—”

“No.” Ven approaches Terra like he’s about to punch him in the stomach to make a point. “Don’t think like that, she’d never do that.” 

Ven has good faith and better timing. Aqua approaches the other side of the clearing, the fabric of her dress gracefully making waves with every step, the foliage fluttering light and shadow on her figure. She holds her bouquet in one hand and a framed photograph tucked under the other.

It shocks Terra.

He can’t stop the flow of tears. He covers his shivering lips and the drip of his nose, his face twisting from the sight of her—brilliant, like she’s made of stars, a gift walking the earth.

“Terra, are you okay?” Aqua asks, rushing to him now, the train of her dress bouncing behind her. 

In the flash of an instinct, Terra runs to meet her, tripping over a branch and landing right into her arms. 

“You’re—” Terra sucks air in, his heart shoving itself up his esophagus. “Y-you’re s-so beautiful.”

Aqua uses her pinky to wipe his tears. “So are you.”

“Let me help you.” He takes the frame—a portrait of the Master, bordered with a white ribbon—and walks her to the arbor. Ven takes the portrait and places it on the boulder, their little family tied together, fractured in glued pieces, now and always. Before they start, Terra asks Aqua to pose under the arbor so he can take a picture of the trees and the flowers surrounding her. Beautiful.

“How do we do this?” Terra asks when he finds his voice again, still trembling. Aqua stands to the side to take her place. She’s beautiful.

Ven takes the book in his hands. The description of this ritual covers at most two pages. “Well, it’s archaic. It’s from the Age of Fairytales but it sounds like we will intertwine your hearts—but in an intense way, like we’re sewing them together.”

Aqua holds her bouquet to her chest. “Shall we start?”

Terra chuckles too hard, gasping for breath. “Simple as that.”

They wait for Ven’s cue, who also has no idea how to do anything. Ven clears his throat, shrugs his shoulders, and reads:

“We witness today the soldering of two hearts. To intertwine like the roots of a tree, the severance painful, the nourishment plentiful. A physical bond, a magical one, the merging of two sprites under the guidance of one truth. Two hearts, but one.” Terra watches the way Aqua watches him. There’s no one else in the world, Ven’s voice disconnected, like it floats on air. “Now it says to summon your Keyblades. Dig the tips into the ground, and offer your hilts to each other.”

Ends of the Earth is massive, taller than Ven. Stormfall looks delicate but it’s menacing, sharp, direct. They offer their hilts, the shafts crossed over each other, Stormfall light and airy in his hand, Ends of the Earth weighty and thick in hers. 

Terra finds it interesting that they’re using the hilt to connect each other’s hearts—the Keyblade should never be used against a person’s heart in traditional Mastery, because it’s such a dangerous weapon and it’s so violating. The blunt hilt, on the other hand, the physical manifestation of their hearts, is like exposure, an offer of vulnerability. 

Aqua’s feels like it’s thrumming, singing. She’s happy.

Ven steps forward with the rope and ties it over the hilts in loops. “This is just an image, the ties that bind, two Keyblades, but one. To intertwine a heart is to forge a chain, a friend, a companion, a memory. If missing then a void, a dream, a wish until reunion.” He steps back into position. “Before we go on, I think this would be a nice place to say your vows. Terra, you first.”

Terra stammers, looking into her eyes. “I-I couldn’t write one. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Ven whispers, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I wrote some just in case.”

Terra doesn’t take it. He licks his lips. “It wouldn’t have been graceful. None of it—all of my thoughts—pale in comparison to you, Aqua.” He steadies himself with labored breathing, the squeeze on her Keyblade like a hold on her waist. “You’re so, so beautiful, and I’ve spent my days believing I don’t deserve you, because… because I couldn’t make things right like I should have.” 

Aqua quivers, gently touching his arm with her free hand and motioning for him to breathe. 

He continues, “I’m sorry. I wish the Master was here. I wish I was smart enough to prevent it from happening.” He inhales, choking up from the mention of Eraqus. “I never thought you would marry me of all people, so… I promise... I will be there every step of the way. I promise you, if you’re scared at night, I’ll be there to protect you. If you’re hurting in another world, I’ll come find you. If you’re confused, I’ll hold you close and help you make sense of it. I’ll brew you tea to help you sleep, I’ll step in the line of fire even if you wish to do the same for me, I’ll walk to the ends of the earth to make sure you are safe and healthy. I promise I’ll be with you.

“And I’ll mess up. I know me. I’ll fix it. If you want to clobber me, I’ll be patient. I’ll learn. I’ll do better. Every day you save me from myself. This is the least I can do. I’ve loved you since I was a kid. I’ll love you every day.”

Silence falls on all of them, Terra sniffing just to get some fresh air, Ven wiping his eyes, Aqua blinking too much. 

“Now you, Aqua,” Ven says. 

Despite being teared up, Aqua holds it together. She’s so good at that.

“Terra, I stand with you because I do want to be here. I do want to be by your side. I do want to laugh at your bad jokes.” She relieves a giggle. “I love you. I have for as long as I can remember, even if I didn’t know the words for it.” She studies his face. “I’m sure the Master is here with us, and he couldn’t be prouder of you. I’m proud of you.” Suddenly, she switches her tone, as if to lecture. “And if you even fathom taking a hit for me, remember that I’m faster than you. I’ll protect you first.” Then she softens. “I promise to be your shelter when the storm falls on us. I promise to sit on your bedside when you’re sick, to lift you up when you’re down about yourself, because you are sometimes. 

“You are my home, no matter how far your heart is from me. If you need a star to light your way back, I’ll give it to you.” She smiles widely, like she’s about to laugh. “If something between us breaks, I’ll mend it with you. I can’t imagine my life any other way.”

Their words are now spoken. Aqua suppresses a laugh and grins like a child. Terra holds his breath, just in case he screams from every emotion that he can’t name.  

“Well,” Ven says, rolling his sleeve up so he could wipe his nose on his forearm. “I guess it’s time. This bond is an oath you will remember each other until you close your eyes for the last time, for the tragedy to forget is to be alone forever. Do you accept this?”

“I do,” Terra says.

Aqua hums. “Yes, I do.”

Ven smiles. “You know what to do.”

With his free hand, Terra presses two fingers to his chest, over his heart, where he builds a golden glow. Twenty years living with her, ten years in darkness thinking about her, this vow is impossible to break—even if they can’t do this any longer, Terra could never forget her. Never. In his hand is now a piece of himself, a nugget of his heart, a memory of her in his bed that he never wants to lose.

He takes those fingers to her chest, two thick golden threads drawn out from his heart. She winces at the touch, quick to dissolve. Stormfall shifts in his hand, growing longer, its hilt thicker and darker, wrapping around like a weaved shield. A subtle change, a little piece of him.

Aqua does the same, fingers to her chest first to create the threads, bringing them to his chest. It does hurt, like a needle digging into his skin, sharp for the entire length until it’s suddenly gone. 

He feels full, as though his insides are creating space for something extra. Warm, frightening, whole, exciting. Her piece is a memory he can’t read but he doesn’t need to. Ends of the Earth opens way for an icy blade to cut through the middle as the hilt fans out like wings. A piece of her to take with him where he goes.

“Alright,” Ven chirps, snapping the booklet closed. “The book ends with the quote, Two hearts, only one, but I think this means I can call you husband and wife in secret. So kiss.”

Their Keyblades dissipate when they hold each other, tender but with appetite, unaware of their surroundings for several selfish moments. With sewn threads, it’s as though he breathes through her. Terra presses her onto him, feeling how her heart now beats in sync with his.

“I love you,” she whispers. They are married. 

He’ll never tire of hearing it. Stars, they are married. “I love you, too.”

Terra hears Ven sniff before a handkerchief is shoved into his face. “You need your face dry and clean before everyone sees you,” Ven says. 

The sunset now is deep, a fiery orange. Terra doesn’t want to let go.

“I’ll hold you again tonight,” Aqua says, patting his chest. “I want to see the meteor shower Ven promised.”

“It’ll be a good one,” Ven assures.

Terra kisses her. “Then we have to make a run for it.” He picks Ven up like a log, jogging through the thicket of the forest with Aqua close behind him, the Master in her arms. When they approach the castle, in the twilight, they hear chatter coming from the halls, as though ghosts are partying outside. 

Terra feels at peace despite that he now has to perform, balancing on a tightrope where he doesn’t care if he falls. He turns around and holds her neck to kiss her again, feeling her laughter in his mouth. “One more?” he asks when they break. 

Ven, still tucked in Terra’s arm, groans. “I never asked for a front seat to the kissing show. Is this my punishment?”

Aqua kisses him one more time, whispering to him I love you for what will be a string of I love you’s in the night to come. Friends will cheer, Terra will trip on the way to the altar, Sora will cry because Terra will cry, Xion will eat too much cake and get sick, Isa will laugh because he is drunk, Kairi will be the star of the dance, Aqua will be the star in his eyes. 

[juminly]

Nights Like These

Summary: A nice cozy movie night with timeskip! Iwaizumi Hajime.  Tags: Mostly Fluff & Smut towards the end. Warning: Smut starts after the “♥♥♥” and includes fingering and cockwarming.

–♥– 

Hajime knew that you loved mac and cheese. He had enough skills to be able to be able to whip up something nice and yummy for you after you've had such a long day and especially since you haven’t had an actual “date” in so long. Living on his own in the US for a few years did have its perks and this was one of them: he was a grown ass man who knew his way well enough in the kitchen to be able to cook for you. Sighing loudly, dark orbs stared for a few seconds at the smart watch strapped to his wrist then back at the pot in front of him. He was looking forward to seeing you more than anything. Being the athletic trainer of the national Japanese team was no ordinary feat and it took up a lot of his time and energy. But, that didn't mean that it would take up the time that you deserved, the time that you both needed. Being always so hyper-focused on his own work, his thoughts tended to drift off quite often to you, just thinking about the last few phone calls you had, the last few texts you sent him and the things you've done in your last few dates. He missed the way you sighed when he played with your hair... God, he loved playing with your hair, twirling your curls in his fingers. It wasn't even the agreed time for your date but he was anxious to see you. He wouldn't admit it to you though, not even to himself. The loud and strong thrumming of his heart in his chest was a big reminder of how much he loved you. He was smitten. No, ever worse! or better? He couldn't even think straight anymore, he was whipped for you and... Ring! Ring! Ring! Three rings. That's your own way of letting him know that it was you and he just absolutely loved it when you did that. If it were anyone else at the door, he wouldn't have been rushing towards it the way he had and flung it open just to see your face.

"Princess." The corner of his lips just curled up out of their own volition, didn't even ask for permission but they didn't even have to. You were here and he wouldn't have it any other way. Why was he acting and feeling like such a schoolboy? He didn't even care. What he cared about was why you were still not throwing your arms around him. "Come here, you." Leaning forward, he took your hand in his and pulled you in for a hug, squeezing his arms tightly around your waist, supporting your weight as you literally balanced yourself on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him back. He nuzzled your neck only for a brief moment, leaving a gentle kiss there and before you murmured in a wondering tone. "Cheesy?" He couldn't help but stiffen for a brief moment. Did you figure out what he had prepared for you? Or even worse, Hajime would be completely mortified if you thought he was cheesy or corny at any point and you didn't like it. Not that he was a man of many words but he always made sure that any word coming out of his mouth meant something. At least when it came to you. He didn't give two fucks when it came to the guys, they could all whimper and cry for all he cared. Nobody meant more to him than you. The click of your tongue snapped him out of his racing thoughts and that giggle... that same glorious and marvellous sound that made him turn his head the first time you met, that time when your eyes locked and he knew that he had to talk to you, even if one of the players on the team had to be used as a wingman just to be able to get a word in with you. "Babe-" You laughed softly. "What's going on in that head of yours? Are you daydreaming about me when I'm in your arms?" With a long sigh, you mumbled and seemed a bit disgruntled, which obviously made the furrow between Hajime's eyebrows even deeper. "If that's the case, then I can just leave. Is daydreaming about me better than real me?" He knew you were joking but how dare you use that pouty tone on him?

"I won't answer your first question. You'll have to wait and see for yourself. But-" Pressing his hand on the small of your back, his other hand inched down to grip you by the waist as his lips hovered against your own, his breath fanning over your lips, tickling them lightly just as a tingling sensation arose in both your chests. "Do you really think I would call you over if I didn't want you right where you are right now?" Closing the distance between you, he loses himself in the little taste of sweetness he could get from a chaste gentle kiss of your lips. It was hard for him to even contain himself or exercise any form of control when he's around you. "Right here in my arms." He murmurs softly before going back in for another kiss, a little bit deeper, a tiny bit more passionate as he molds your lips together, sucking on your bottom one before breaking away once again. Gazing down on you as you both try to catch your breath from the small loving exchange, Hajime stared down at your cheeks that were now painted with the most adorable blush, his heart swelling with giddiness that he was the one responsible for such a reaction from you. "Come on, we're watching The Princess Bride tonight and I better not hear any objections from you." He smiled as he saw yet another giggle from you, even as you rolled your eyes and told him that you've already seen it a thousand times before and you didn't even know why he wanted to watch it with you. Silencing you with a small peck, his usual frown was still on that handsome face of his but his gaze was soft and endearing. "I want to know more about the things that you love so you'll have to humour me for tonight, baby girl."

Kissing your cheek, his hand finds yours and he guides you to the living room, pulling you away from the kitchen since he knew that was the destination you had in mind. You always wanted to give him a hand when it came to literally anything but when it came to your dates or your time together, Hajime wanted to show that he wanted to do things for you. It was simply his love language. A language that was created since he met you. "Thanks for coming over. I know it was last minute but the guys' practice match got postponed so I decided to cut them some slack." - he chuckled before meeting your eyes that were now crinkling with laughter - "Not that I don't plan on kicking their ass later anyway. Gotta make sure they are in top shape and remember who's the one making the rules." Once he ensured that you were seated, he threw you a glance of warning over his shoulder as he walked out to the kitchen. "You better sit tight princess while I go get the food. I'll be right back." He winked at you and chuckled at the way you squirmed slightly and busied yourself with the remote control as he prepared your dinner for you. Hajime had his own way of showing his love and spoiling you. The man wanted to make sure that he followed through. Making you feel special, trying to show but a sliver of how he truly felt about you. Sighing loudly and after ensuring that the pasta was thoroughly cooked, he meticulously dumped it in a bowl, big enough to fit 6 servings of mac and cheese and brought two plates along with him to the living room.

As "The Princess Bride" began playing, you both dug into your food and being the humble fellow that he was, Hajime didn't dare comment on the food but he did find it quite... acceptable, to say the least. On the other hand, the look on your face when you saw what he had cooked for you was worth all the effort. He didn't use the basic Kraft Dinner mac and cheese, even though it was basically your favourite. However, he just wanted to do just a little bit extra for you, add his own touch : a four cheese mac and cheese with the finest pasta from a local Italian shop that he always ate at and even took you to a few times. The first few bites etched an expression of pure bliss on your face and that drew a shit eating grin on his face, one that you didn't even get the chance to see as you were too busy filling in your plate with a second serving. While you munched on your food and whispered about your favourite scenes from time to time, Hajime tried his best to keep his attention on the movie but you were much more entertaining that it was while you recited almost every single line that resounded from the TV. He wished he could turn it off and just watch you act out the movie and tell him about everything you love about it, he wouldn't have minded that at all.

He chuckled under his breath at the look of amazement on your face when you both managed to finish and lick clean all the contents of the pot. He just let you believe that you ate more than him - just for shits and giggles - when he was also devouring whatever he could from the food (about 4.5 servings - the man works out A LOT, okay? Don't judge-). Nobody could blame him, it was fucking delicious and he was proud that you loved something that he made with his own two hands. Taking a short clean-up/bathroom break, Hajime cozied up on the couch, checking all the stupid emojis and texts he received from the Olympic team. How did they even know that he was on a date with you? The texts and emojis on the group chat ranged from: "Ya betta get it on tonight, Iwa-chan~ Ya frown too much cause ya don't get laid enough!" - Atsumu, the wannabe Shittykawa. "WAT R U GOING TO BE DOING ON UR DATE? WILL IT BE FUN? MAYBE I CAN COME!? I LUV UR GF" - Hinata, the sweet sunshine boy bordering on annoying but too pure to be so, Hajime had to admit that he had a soft spot for him and the rowdy wing spiker who followed up with a text of his own. "WE'RE COMING OVER IN 1H TO HANG OUT WITH U! WE MISS HER SO MUCH!", Bokuto's follow-up did nothing but make the trainer's blood boil with imminent rage. If those two dimwits dared to even ring the bell of his condo, Japan can say goodbye to their favourite chaotic duo.

Putting in an Airpod in his left ear, Hajime began recording the most graphically violent threat he could muster on the group chat and stuttering mid-way through the voice note. Yes, Hajime Iwaizumi stuttered out of surprise and YOU were the only one who could catch this man off-guard as you walked back into the living room wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts. He barely managed a quick "I gotta go", clicked send without looking at the screen, blinked and gawked at you with a baffled frown.  "What happened to your clothes?" "Well~ Things did get a little messy in the kitchen and while I...-" You cleared your throat and bit your bottom lip, definitely not trying to turn him on. Sarcasm alert. "-kinda made things worse so I borrowed one of your T-shirts. I hope you don't mind." He simply shook his head, mumbling a husky "It's fine, what's mine is yours" and patted the seat next to him. His frown only grew deeper when you walked closer to him but made no sign of actually sitting down. Looking up at you, he could see the bright flush spreading across your cheeks when you pointed to his lap. "Is that seat taken?"

His eyebrow perked up in amusement along with a mirthful smirk, your bottom lip remaining a prisoner between your teeth. "Be my guest. Who am I to refuse a request from my princess." He chuckled as he grabbed your hand, pulling you into his lap and you squirmed in embarrassment, the feeling of your well-defined butt rubbing against him, those supple cheeks that his crotch was getting well acquainted with. The accidental groan that escaped his lips was a definite warning to stop what you were doing or continue at your own risk.

"If you keep wiggling your ass on me like that, you're gonna have to own up to your actions, sweetheart." His rough baritone was telling of the growing desire he had for you. He hadn't seen you in so long and he was starved for your touch, as if the soft brush of his calloused fingers on your thighs was no indication to his underlying intentions. He knew how sensitive you were and he was not above taking advantage of that fact, the slight shiver that ran over your body only urged on him, wanting to coax even more of these delicious reactions from you. 

♥♥♥ "Iwa-" Before you could even finish calling his name, his lips were on yours, nipping at your bottom one and sucking deeply before licking his way into your mouth, tasting the freshness of mint from his mouthwash as he entangled his tongue with your own, groaning loudly into your mouth. Breaking only for a moment, he demanded your attention as his fingers began to meander up your inner thighs, wasting no time to slide his index and middle over your panties, a clear wet spot forming and drenching the fabric slowly..

"If this is what you've wanted all along, you should've just said so, you naughty princess." Pushing your panties aside with his other hand, he deftly parted your folds and circled his fingers over your entrance, gathering up your slickness before lathering over your slit, barely grazing your swelling clit that desperately needed his attention. Seeing how you held your breath and stiffened in his embrace made him only want to do even more to you. This is not the type of quality time he had in mind but he was definitely not going to object to it. "Baby girl..." He crooned huskily as one of his hands rubbed up and down one of your thighs, making sure that your legs remained parted so that he could finger you good enough, prep you for what he had in mind. Before capturing your lips once again, he licked the seams of your lips, demanding that your eyes meet his own as he murmured against you. "You call me by my name, baby. You're royalty to me, after all." He smiled softly as you responded in kind, calling out his name and pulling him in a deep kiss, your hips slowly beginning to rut against his fingers that had yet to turn things up a notch. "Hajime..." You whimpered shakily against his lips, his warm breath fanning over your wet lips as his thumb rolled over your sensitive bud, moving clockwise and counter-clockwise, fast and slow with just the right amount of pressure to leave you with fighting to catch your breath. With two fingers right at your entrance, he watches you with avid interest, humming in satisfaction every time a moan escapes your lips, his own hips grinding involuntarily against your behind as his own erection begins to harden under your squirming figure.

"Hajime, I want you inside me... Please, stop teasing me!" You squeal while your nails dug into his shoulders, gripping those thick muscles tightly, while his own body tensed, betraying the composure that he desperately tried to maintain. His large biceps flexing as he squeezes his arms around you even tighter, trying to cease the negligible movement of your body that is driving him insane.

"Shush, baby. I'll treat you good. Just relax." Finally plunging in his fingers inside you, he swallows your moans with a searing kiss while you cried out into his mouth, his thick digits thrusting in and out of you and curling into you, your inner walls clamping down on them and sucking him in. With every roll of your hips, he met you with a thrust of his own, his fingers knuckle-deep, reaching that sweet stop that has you keening, so damn close to falling apart.

Your lips parted with a loud wet noise, his chest heaving with bated breath, his state reflecting your own but it didn't change the fact that you were feeling even needier when he cruelly removed his fingers from your core. Your frustrated whine didn't elicit any reaction from him but, contrary to his exterior, he could feel his body bursting with heat and it became unbearable. He exhaled loudly, patting your thigh and growling in your ear. "Get up and take your clothes off, baby girl. I'm not getting inside you until you do."

Hurriedly taking off his shirt in one smooth go and just in time to watch you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt, pulling it up in a rush, exposing more and more of your smooth skin. Fuck... he wanted to mark you all up but the twitching of his cock straining against his pants urged him to do so later. There were more pressing matters to attend to and right now, he just wanted to drink you all in. Licking his lips with a desire only you could sate, the darkness of his unquenchable thirst swimming in his orbs almost too much to handle, yet you still kept your gazes locked as you unclipped your bra, letting it fall to the floor while he fumbled with his belt, unzipping his pants and freeing his aching length with a loud hiss. The way you squeezed your legs together didn't go unnoticed and he knew that he left you hanging. "Come here, baby." As you inched closer to him, Hajime placed one large hand on either side of your hips, guiding you before him as you placed one knee on the couch and then another to straddle him, giving him a glimpse of your dripping core that was so ready for the taking while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he latched on to the crook of your neck, sucking on your soft skin deeply while sweet moans tumbled so easily from your quivering lips. "I've had enough, Hajime. I promise... Just please... I want you inside me." You pleaded as his warm hands settled on your butt, fondling your soft cheeks while he angled you right on top of his cock, groaning against your neck. "You're so perfect. I fucking missed you so much." With his fingertips digging into your soft flesh, he eases you onto his cock, sheathing himself fully inside you as you sink onto him, both of you moaning in harmony as your cunt clamped down on every single inch of him that you could take.

For a few moments, both of you remained silent, your forehead pressed against his bare shoulders and his own lying on the crown of your head. The silence of the room was filled with your heavy breathing as you allowed the fullness of your bodies, the fullness of your hearts washed over you and enveloped you completely. Neither of you wanted to move or even dared to, even though your instincts screamed to grind against one another and chase the release that you both wanted. But it wasn't what you really needed. This moment, the intimacy, this... love. "W-what about the movie?" You breathed out shakily against his arm, giggling softly while you began nibbling on the hardness of his bicep. He knew that you weren't even mildly concerned with the movie which made him chuckle out a deep laugh that rumbled in his chest. You... You never failed to those stupid butterflies flutter in his stomach with your cute little acts of possession.

He wore your love bites with pride and didn't mind that they were in a place that was even more visible than his neck. He licked a long strip on the column of your throat, decorating it with nips of his own, marks of his love and yearning for you while his hands sought your breasts, kneading them with tenderness. Even if words betrayed him most of the time, he trusted his actions to speak for him. "There's nothing better than watching you, princess."

–♥– 

Please feel free to leave comments/feedback!💜  Masterlist

Tagging @shhhlikeme @hqissodelicate @cleverlittlevixen (I hope you enjoy your movie night with your boo :*) 💜 

[mermaidenisaacs]

isaac is a soft warm husband

it’s the night of lydia and malia’s bachelorette party and isaac is concerned by his wife’s drunken texts and questionable appearances on other people’s snapchat stories.  

romance/humor, married au, isaac is very fond of his wife 

warnings: graphic sexual language

To clarify, going to Dildopolis was Lydia’s idea, not mine. 

Lydia’s bachelorette party turned out to be a pretty wild night. After dinner and drinks, Kira surprised us with a party bus. She also invited the men from the strip club to join us, so we all piled in, and danced and drank as we were driven around the city. 

We figured Malia wouldn’t mind that her bride-to-be would be grinding with oily, shirtless men with perfectly sculpted six packs the night before she got married; after all, she was the one who pulled the youngest dancer, Lito, between her and Lydia and made a human gyrating sandwich.

Isaac texted me around 1 am, right after I’d downed another shot of fireball whiskey. 

Isaac (1:10 am): Looks like you’re having a good time

I was confused by his text and showed it to Erica, who explained that it was probably because she had posted a video of me on her Snapchat story licking salt off of one of the stripper’s abs. If she kept this up, I’d be divorced by the time Lydia got married. With blurry vision and sloppy fingers, I texted him back, determined to make actual words happen. 

me (1:13 am): hhe was hot butt uknoww I like your soft tummmy mre

Dildopolis was a sex store at the corner of Baker Street and Cedar Drive. Lydia noticed its bright flashy neon sign and pointed out that it wouldn’t be a bachelorette party without stopping at the local sex shop. She had a fair point. 

I tried to my best not to let on that I’d never been to a sex store, but all the alcohol was breaking down my cool exterior. Stumbling into one of the aisles, I came across a jar of multicolored circular rubbery things, which turned out to be flavored condoms. It was Kira who found me, doubled over in laughter with tears in my eyes.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, rubbing my back. 

I held up a blue condom that purported to be mint flavored. Wheezing through breaths of laughter, I slurred, “It’s a blue condom, Kira. Why would anyone want to turn their dick blue? Who is trying to have sex with smurf dick? Also, does this mean people are putting on condoms to give head?” Kira and I held on to each other while we sobbed from giggling so hard. 

“You should get one of these for Isaac,” she drunkenly suggested. I finally managed to calm down, but after hearing her recommendation, another round of giggles ensued. 

“Oh my god, can you imagine me going up to Isaac being like, ‘Honey, I think my breath smells bad. Mind if I have a taste of that minty dick before work?” Kira doubled over in laughter. Another condom caught my eye, an orange one that looked surprisingly appealing. “Hey look, this is citrus! I like this flavor. You know what, screw it, I’m getting it. I think Lahey might be a little mad at me, so I’m gonna get him a present. The gift of blowjob!” I declared with bright hopes. 

“You totally should! No guy’s gonna turn down an enthusiastic, flavored blowjob. Trust me,” Kira said like she was relaying classified government information. 

I paused. “Wait, have you and Scott…?” 

“...chocolate is our favorite flavor.” 

“Oh my god, they have chocolate?!”

~*~*~*~

My first visit to Dildopolis was not a frugal excursion. I ended up buying two twelve packs of flavored condoms, and nearly skipped out of the store with my tiny gift bag, eager to show Isaac my latest investment.

An hour later, the party bus dropped me off at my house. Malia and Lydia walked me to my front door and I hugged them for a little too long, probably. 

“You guys are the best, the best! I loooove you, and I love love, and I love the lesbians, I love your hair, Lydia--” Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me and saved Lydia from my rambling. I was hugged from behind into someone’s warm chest. I looked up to see a tuft of curly hair blowing in the wind. It was Isaac, smiling down at me. 

“Hi baby,” he said warmly. “Did you have something to drink?” 

“My husband!” I exclaimed in drunken thrill. “My husband, I love you so dearly, you’re so tall and good, babyyy you smell so good, how do you always smell like cinnamon buns…” Turning around, I stood on my tip toes and sponged open-mouthed kisses along Isaac’s throat. He lovingly stroked my hair and awkwardly bid Lydia and Malia goodnight. 

“Thanks so much for dropping her off,” he said. “Congratulations on everything. I’m so happy for you two,” Isaac sweetly intoned, then walked us inside our home. 

I stumbled into our living room, set down the gift bag, and began what my inebriated brain firmly believed was a perfect seduction process. While I wasn’t as wasted as I had been earlier, I was still slightly tipsy, and very excited to give Isaac his present. 

If only I could remember how to take off my clothes. I fiddled uselessly with the buttons of my coat. Isaac watched me struggle with an amused twinkle in his eyes. After many failed attempts, I pouted at him. “Isaaaac,” I whined. “Can you help me take my clothes off?” 

He chuckled and relented. He took off my coat and helped me out of my heels, all the while steadying me as I teetered every which way. 

“What’s that?” he asked curiously. He was looking at the small silver bag I’d brought home that was on the coffee table. He reached over to retrieve it. 

I slapped his hand. “No! It’s a surprise,” I said with a grin. 

“A surprise? I’m surprised you had time to stop somewhere and buy something. Didn’t it get in the way of all the stripper licking fun?” he said grumpily.

“Aw, babyyy,” I cooed and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Were you jealous? I’m sorry, I was really drunk, but you know it didn’t mean anything. And you know I’m not lying, wolfie,” I said, tapping his ear. 

Isaac sighed. “I know. I just didn’t know there would be strippers.” 

I nodded and apologized again. “I know you’re upset, but not to worry! That’s what the present is for. Come on, husband, let’s go to the bedroom!” 

He should have been used to this behavior by now; I was always a happy and horny drunk. I grabbed the gift bag and tugged on Isaac’s hand, pulling him behind me. When we reached our bed, I lightly shoved him so he fell back on the mattress. 

“Feeling a little aggressive, Mrs. Lahey?” Isaac teased. He leaned up on his elbows and grinned at me. I shivered. He knew I liked it when he called me that. 

“Just… excited to show you the present,” I said bashfully, throwing a smile over my shoulder. “Now take off your pants, Mr. Lahey.” 

Isaac’s pupils dilated and his smile disappeared, replaced with a look of longing and lust. He obeyed wordlessly. I unzipped my dress, pulling it over my head. When I finished undressing, I was left in a set of matching black lacy lingerie. (Lydia had hand picked the party favors, and she decided I looked best in black.) Isaac was laying on our bed, completely naked, smirking with sinful intentions. 

His eyes raked hungrily over my body, and all of a sudden, I remembered what I intended to do, and I felt really, really silly. And very embarrassed. 

“I bought flavored condoms,” I suddenly blurted out. The sexy mood I’d successfully cultivated came to a screeching halt. 

Isaac blinked. “What?” 

I sighed and pulled out the contraceptives. “They’re flavored condoms. That’s the surprise. It seemed like such a good idea at the sex store--”

“You went to a sex store?” Isaac interrupted. He was biting back a grin. “Was this your first time at a sex store?”

“Yes,” I said sadly. “And I got a whole bunch of these condoms, but I was also really wasted. And now that I’m not as wasted, I just feel really dumb,” I finished lamely. I plopped down on the bed beside Isaac and looked down. “I’m sorry. I ruined the sexiness.”

Isaac chuckled affectionately. “Baby, it’s okay. You didn’t ruin anything. Here, let me see those.” He took the condoms from me and inspected each one. “Holy shit, I had no idea this was a thing.” 

“Neither did I! That orange one looks the least gross.” 

“Yeah?” Isaac looked up, eyes wide with surprise. He grinned wickedly. “Wanna try it?” 

I gaped. “Really? You want to?” I asked shyly. 

“Yeah, why not. Not about to turn down a blowjob from my gorgeous wife,” he said smirking. He kissed the corner of my mouth. 

I laughed and kissed him back. Fisting his curls, I laid on top of Isaac while we made out. He squeezed my ass and pulled me closer, and his tongue lightly swiped across my bottom lip. I felt him, hard and ready, and pressed against my thigh. I licked my palm and rubbed him, and he hissed at the initial contact. 

“Mr. Lahey?” 

“Hm?”

“I’m like weirdly excited for this.”

Isaac chuckled fondly. “Cute.”

Sitting up, I tore open the condom wrapper and licked the rubber. The taste settled on my tongue. It was vaguely citrusy. 

“Hm, not terrible,” I described. I rolled the rubber onto Isaac’s erect shaft. Once more, the sexiness came to an abrupt stop. 

One look at Isaac’s bright orange dick, and I fell backwards laughing. 

“Oh my god,” I gasped between fits of laughter. “Honey, that looks so ridiculous! It’s just so, oh god, it’s just so dumb.” I was crying now, wiping away tears before they ruined my makeup. 

Isaac stared at it, transfixed with disbelief. There was so much confusion and horror in his expression. 

“It’s… orange,” he said, bewildered at the surprisingly bright apricot hue. “Babe, my dick is orange. They should’ve called this condom The Donald Trump.” 

Laughter bubbled in my throat again and I fell into his side, laughing into his shoulder. This time, he joined me. 

“I still maintain this is better than the blue ones,” I said. “At least you don’t have smurf dick.” 

Isaac looked at me confused, then erupted into giggles. “Yikes. Well, what should we do?” he asked, frowning at his erection. He looked so annoyed at his own body. My original intent was to ease his annoyance, and I was going to see this through, dammit. 

“We’re gonna do what we came here to do,” I replied, biting back another laugh. 

“You don’t have to--” I shushed Isaac’s protests with a kiss, and straddled his legs. I wrapped my fist around his cock, which had shriveled slightly during our laughing fit. Leaning down, I tried to ignore the bright tangerine color and gave it some experimental licks. 

The unpleasant color was easy to ignore once I heard Isaac’s groan of pleasure. I closed my mouth around the head and swirled my tongue around him, trying to extract more of the slightly sweet orange taste. I didn’t actually expect the flavor to be enticing, but it did actually motivate me to keep going. Slowly, I moved my mouth lower down his shaft, taking him inch by inch. 

“Fuck, baby,” Isaac groaned. “That feels so good, just like that…” His hand came down and sweetly brushed away strands of loose hair from my face. He collected all my hair into a makeshift ponytail and tugged. The pressure felt so good on my scalp that it urged me to take him deeper. 

It would be expected that being married to him would let me get used to Isaac’s size. He wasn’t the biggest I’d ever seen, but he was still considerable, and I had to take him just as slowly each time (unless it was one of those nights where we wanted it rough and hard and fast and the sex was on the good side of painful). 

I had taken nearly all of Isaac when he reached the back of my throat. My eyes involuntarily stung with tears, but no part of me wanted to stop. Isaac helped me. He held me down with one hand, and combed his fingers through my scalp with the other. 

“That’s good baby, that feels so fucking perfect. You take me so good,” Isaac grunted. 

He finally let go, finally let me move away to breathe. I didn’t wait long to take him back in, suctioning my lips around his shaft as I bobbed my head up and down. I knew he was about to come because I could hear him panting, could see him white-knuckling the bedspread and clenching his stomach. 

I released him with a tiny pop. “Come on baby, are you gonna come for me?” I purred encouragingly and vigorously pumped his shaft with my fist. “That’s it, you’re so close, you’re so fucking close…” 

“I can’t, I can’t hold on, I’m coming,” Isaac harshly whispered. He grunted my name and I made fast work rolling off the condom. Isaac firmly cupped my chin and entered my mouth again. He quivered on my tongue, then released down my throat, coating my mouth. 

Isaac stared at me, dazed and fucked out, and fondly stroked my cheek. He tugged on my arms and pulled me next to him, cradling me against his chest. 

“How was that for you?” he asked a little nervously. 

“Good, actually. You?”

“I liked it,” he said quietly.

I smiled victoriously. “Then it’s a good thing we have twenty three more condoms.” Isaac snorted. “We can always borrow some from Scott and Kira if we run out.” 

Isaac gaped. “I’m sorry, what? They’ve used these too?” 

I nodded. “Where do you think I got the idea?” 

Isaac smiled into another kiss. “You’re incredible, Mrs. Lahey.” 

*

another’s note: i found another isaac fic from my old blog. thank god for google docs. pls let me know what you think or interact with me bc i love talking about isaac and the world is on fire ahaa <3

[annabethy]

I need a date for this wedding + fake dating AUUUU

two in a million

in which percy and annabeth are on a date, and they realize that they’re only two people in a city of millions

Annabeth knew that this was a bad idea the second Percy brought it up. She should’ve shut it down, right then, but she didn’t and now she’s stuck at someone’s wedding in uncomfortable high heels and Percy’s hand alarmingly close to her ass.

All Percy has to do is take one look at her before he looks like he’s going to have a stroke from holding in his laughter.

Annabeth adjusts the sleeve of her black cocktail dress, roughly shoving his arm away from her. “Shut up.”

Percy isn’t deterred. His arm makes its way back to her waist, the other sneaking around this time so that she is trapped in his arms. He brushes his lips against her ear. “Do you really find me that repulsive?”

“Overbearingly so,” she grunts as she tries to pry his hands apart from in front of her. “Let go.”

She thinks Percy is going to fight her, just like he has done with everything she’s ever said in her entire life, but instead he let her slip out from his grasp, smothering a smile with his fist. “Do you need a break?”

Annabeth takes a moment to look outside the glass doors of the wedding venue. They’re high up in the building, and she can see the snowflakes swirling to the ground outside, but she was already imagining the cold wind against her cheeks. “Yeah,” she breathes, “I do.”

It takes a lot of winding in and out of the crowd before they’re even able to reach the doors. Annabeth isn’t entirely sure whose wedding this is, but she’d like to have a talk about the guest list because this was just insane. Percy holds open the door for her, which actually causes her to blink in surprise, before she slides through. The door closes with a click behind them, the blasting music fading to nothing but a dull thrum.

The wind feels icy against her skin as she approaches the railing of the terrace. It’s nighttime, and they’re so high up she can see everything in the New York skyline. The roads are bustling with people and cars because this is the city that never sleeps, and she watches it to calm herself down. She hadn’t even realized how tense she had been, but she supposes she’s always been that way in new situations.

Percy slides in next to her, leaning forwards and lacing his fingers together on the rail. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be honest and say that this is a little weird,” she says. Her eyes trace over every building in the horizon. “Being on a date with someone who hates you.”

“I don’t hate you,” he says. Annabeth shoots him a look. “I just strongly dislike you.”

“And somehow I ended up as your date to the wedding.”

“Thought the architecture in you would appreciate the skyline.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

“I’m being serious.”

Annabeth hums in doubt, and they fall back into silence. There’s something ethereal about New York at night. It’s sublime in a way, knowing that there are millions of people on this island, each with their own lives and own stories to tell. It’s a concept she can hardly grasp onto, knowing that in the grand scheme of things, she means nothing. To the people around her, sure, but she’s just one person in millions who are just trying to survive.

Annabeth sniffles, her nose beginning to run in the cold. Percy doesn’t offer her his jacket, and she appreciates it. She never been one to rely on another person like that.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispers, captivated by the glowing lights. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

“I did,” he states.

“Oh, yeah? What am I thinking then?”

Percy gives her a lopsided grin, barely illuminated in the night sky, before he’s looking back towards the roads. He breathes in deeply before answering. “You’re thinking that everything around us is insane. This view, right here, is heavenly, transcendent—”

“Look at you using big words.”

“—and it’s meaningless. Something so beautiful would mean something surely, but it really doesn’t. We’re two people, just like there are two people stepping into a taxi on fifth avenue, or two people walking along the sidewalk. We’re just human, and it doesn’t really mean anything.” He turns to her. “Sure, we all think we’re important, because we’re the center of our own universe. But if you think about it, we’re really only here for maybe seventy years. Whatever we think we accomplish isn’t going to matter in a century or two.”

Annabeth laughs softly. “You’re making me doubt my existence.”

“That’s what you were thinking though, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. It was. How did you know?”

“I just know you, Annabeth.”

And it’s weird, because this is the boy that she’s been competing with for years. They’re constantly at each other’s throats, trying to one up the other, and it’s exhausting, but invigorating at the same time. Still, to know that he knows her as well as he does is… she doesn’t quite know. “Well, as your supposed enemy, it’s my job to disagree with you,” Percy continues. “People do matter. They won’t last forever, but their legacy will.”

Annabeth smirks at him, shifting in an attempt to stay warm in the biting wind. “How so?”

“Time can destroy a lot of things, but it can’t destroy art. It can’t destroy peoples’ words.”

“You think so?”

“Isn’t that the whole reason you wanted to go into architecture? To build something permanent?”

She pauses and her heart speeds up. It’s something she said the first time she met him, and never again since then. It was shared across a late-night library run when they were both studying for their first final, and he had been so distracted she thought he hadn’t even heard her. “You remember that?”

He tilts his head. “Of course I do, Annabeth.”

“I’ve never heard that before,” she muses. “Art is the only thing that time cannot conquer.”

“It’s true,” he says. “Think Shakespeare, or Van Gogh. They’re still remembered to this day. And most people aren’t famous until after they die, so even if you think you’re nothing but a tiny speck in this universe, just know that the people after you might cherish the ground you walk on.” Percy lifts himself off the railing. “You, Annabeth Chase, are going to make a difference.”

It’s weird, coming from Percy. They’re at some random person’s wedding, and she’s not even sure Percy knows the bride or groom, yet here they are, standing on a balcony over fifty floors high. It’s all so surreal.

A shiver rakes over Annabeth’s body, and this time Percy doesn’t hesitate before he’s shrugging off the jacket to his suit and resting it over her shoulders. She protests for only a second, but then the warmth is settling in and she can’t bring herself to take it off. It smells subtly of him too, and she never realized how much she likes that before now.

“If it means anything, you’re going to make a difference too,” Annabeth says, looking him directly in his eyes. She can sense something different in the way he was looking at her. It was something she’s never seen before.

“Not all of us were meant to make a difference,” he says. “And that’s okay.”

“Not all of us were,” she agrees, “but something tells me that you were.”

He gives her a soft grin. “Thank you.”

And it’s too soft. This moment is something new to the both of them, and she feels a magnetic pull between them, so she forces herself to back up. “Hey, I didn’t say it was a good difference. Maybe you’re going to push me off this building, and that’ll be your legacy.”

Percy precariously looks over the edge of the building. “Nah. I’d want to be a little bit higher first, you know? Make sure it’s foolproof.”

“Fifty floors not enough for you?”

He laughs again and says nothing else. Their eyes lock once again, and she can’t bring herself to look away this time.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he says, looking back through the glass doors. The party is still in full throttle, and it looks so warm with the hundreds of fairy lights strewn up, but somehow, she doesn’t want to go back inside yet. “I really appreciate it.”

“I still don’t know why you needed me here.”

“I already told you. I thought you would enjoy the view.”

“You were serious about that?”

“I thought we already covered that.”

“Yeah, but.” Annabeth swallows her tongue. “Thank you.”

Percy shuffles his feet for a few seconds. “Okay, so there is something else I should probably tell you still.”

Her face falls. “What?”

“It’s not bad or anything.”

She breathes a sigh of relief.

“Maybe.”

And suddenly, she’s back to panicking.

“So you’re already aware that you’re my date to this thing. We’ve got that covered.”

“Mh-hm.”

“At the end of the night, you’re going to have to kiss me.”

Annabeth does a doubletake. “I’m sorry. What?”

“My aunt is kind of crazy, and she does this thing at weddings where the couples all take one big group picture, and there’s always one where they’re kissing.”

“But… we’re not a couple?”

“That’s another thing.”

“Perseus Jackson.”

“I told them that we were dating?”

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“I panicked! She can be really pushy!”

Annabeth rubs her eyes, forgetting entirely about the full face of makeup she has on. “So you mean to tell me that you told your aunt that we’re dating?”

“Yes.”

“And now we have to kiss in front of what could be hundreds of people?”

“You got it.”

“I’m going to murder you.” She takes a deep breath. “There has to be a way out of it. We can just say that we’re still pretty new to this, and just don’t feel like it’s the best idea to be a part of the picture.”

“That might work.”

Annabeth claps once. “Good.”

“Except I told them that we’ve been dating for two years.”

“You told them what?”

“I think they’re expecting a proposal soon.”

“I—” She lets out a strangled scream. “Why wouldn’t you tell them you were with Rachel or something?!”

“Ew. I don’t like Rachel.”

“And you think I’m any better!?”

“It appears so.” Percy watches her pace around, the tiniest gleam of humor in his eyes. “It’s just one kiss.”

“It’s just one kiss,” she mocks. “This is embarrassing.”

“I won’t make you do it, but it’ll look really weird if you don’t.”

“I hate you.”

“So you do find me that repulsive then,” Percy says. “Nice to know.”

“I do not!”

And Percy grins mischievously. “I know. Piper told me the things you said about me.”

She chokes. “I’m going to kill both of you now.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Why are you not more panicked?”

“Because it’s just a kiss.”

She nods and swallows hard. “Just a kiss. You’re right. We can do this.”

Percy bites his bottom lip, and she knows he’s fighting laughter with every fiber of his being.

“Stop laughing at me,” she scolds. She looks around once, and the balcony is empty of everyone except them. “Should we… practice?”

It’s Percy’s turn to look surprised. “Practice kissing?”

“Yes.”

“If— if you want to.”

Annabeth nods her head. “I feel like we should so we don’t humiliate ourselves out there.”

Percy shrugs, and a second later, he’s tugging her forwards by her waist. She manages to withhold the shriek, pressing her hand to his chest to steady herself. She feels dizzy standing here in his grasp.

“You okay?” he asks again, looking at her in alarm.

“I’m great,” she responds weakly.

“Are you okay with this?”

She nods once. “Yes. Just get on with it.”

Percy slowly drags her chin up before he captures her lips with his. They stand still as statues, both of them too afraid to move. It’s painfully awkward for both parties, and when he pulls away, she fights the urge to burst out laughing in his face.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he says, but even he doesn’t sound convinced.

“It was terrible.”

“Downright awful.”

Annabeth starts giggling, and she drops her forehead against his chest. He brings his hand to rest on her back, smothering a grin into the top of her hair. It’s suddenly as though a weight has been lifted from her shoulders, so she lifts her head again.

“Should we try again?” she asks.

“I mean.”

Annabeth falters. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“No,” he says, grinning. “I want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Annabeth.”

“What?”

“I want to kiss you.”

Her heart stops, and everything fades into the distance. Cars are honking on the ground below, and people are dancing in the room behind her, but all she can focus on is them. He’s looking at her so earnestly with something akin to love, and she knows that this must have been building for a long time. Maybe from the second she first met him, but it was always going to come down to this moment here. A moment shared between the two of them and no one else.

The space between them slowly disappears until they’re only inches away from one another. She shouldn’t be surprised that this is what it’s come down to. She was kidding herself if she thought that being his fake date was all that this was.

“Then kiss me,” she whispers.

He does.

It’s like a spark of electricity flows between them now, and it’s nothing like anything she’s ever felt before. It’s perfect, and it’s something that she never wants to forget. She presses herself harder against him, feeling him smile against her.

When he does pull away, she’s breathless. He gazes at her with so much emotion that she could break down into tears right then and there, but she doesn’t. Instead, she rests her head in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. They sway back and forth silently until Percy speaks up.

“Damn it,” he laughs. “Does this mean that our first real kiss was at someone else’s wedding?”

“I guess so,” she says.

“Is it bad that I don’t want our first date to be someone’s wedding whose name you don’t even know?”

“Not at all.”

Percy brings his face back to hers to kiss her one more time. “What do you say we get out of here and go on a real date?”

It’s close to midnight, but they live in New York. They have all the time in the world. So she says, with a smile against his lips, “Let’s make it a night to remember.”

And so with one hand in his, Percy leads her back inside. Annabeth throws one glance over her shoulder to look at the glowing night sky, and they’re only two people in a city with millions. Maybe they’re not extraordinary, and maybe every person has a story to tell, but this story is hers and she’s going to make it count.

[theladyofdeath]

The Ranch {12}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

The Ranch Masterlist

Nesta looked around at all she had done in the last few months. She had taken the run down B&B and turned it into something polished and classy - ranch chic, she kept referring to it, which only made Cassian roll his eyes every time she described the ranch in his presence.

But she liked to think that he secretly liked the term.

After making sure all the rooms that were being used that day were organized as they should be, she wandered into the kitchen, where the caterers were setting up, and peeked out the back window. Chairs were being lined up with the help of Cassian and Azriel in a long semi-circle, all facing the wooden arch draped with flowers and greenery.

When Feyre and Rhysand’s venue had to cancel weeks before their wedding due to bad flooding from the bad storm the month before, Nesta had suggested the ranch before the panic could settle in. She and Elain promised they would take care of everything. It was the least Nesta could do after being a shit sister for a decade.

Now, the big day was here and everything was going smoothly. Perhaps it was the nerves of having so many people on the land or the fact that the grand opening of the B&B was quickly approaching, but Nesta had been nauseous and nervous all morning.

Damned anxiety.

“Nesta!”

Her sister’s frantic voice sent her running back up the stairs, coffee mug in hand.

Feyre sat at the vanity in her old bedroom, while Mor curled, pinned and perfected her hair. She was drinking a mimosa through a straw, careful not to mess up her lipstick.

“Everything alright?” She asked, setting the cup in front of Mor who mouthed thank you, before continuing to work.

“I forgot my hairpins at the apartment.” She could see Feyre’s eyes welling up with tears and knew Mor would go ballistic if Feyre’s makeup was messed up for a second time, even though the bouquet of roses Rhys had sent as a surprise were gorgeous.

“Don’t cry,” Nesta said, voice calm. “Let me see what I can do.”

Feyre sipped from the straw and nodded, blue-gray eyes wide and teary.

Nesta opened the door to the master bedroom, the one room she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do anything to, and entered the large walk-in closet. She’d decided she wasn’t going to rent the room out, would keep it for family and in case she needed to stay in the house for any reason. Or if she and Cassian just couldn’t make it to one of the other houses.

She blushed, thinking about how he’d taken her against the banister the night before while they were cleaning. Sometimes the man just couldn’t be stopped. Not that she was complaining.

She located the jewelry box tucked in the back of a shelf, and opened it. She knew what she was looking for, but wasn’t even sure if they were in the box, much less if they were even still in the family. But nestled in the bottom, she found the intricate, jeweled pins.

Their mother was a rancher’s wife through and through, but she was never able to give up her love of beauty. A former pageant queen, her hair and makeup were always pristine, even when she was helping breach a calf or roll out a bale of hay. And Nesta has always loved these pins.

She locked the bedroom door as she left and hurried across the hall.

“How about these?” She held them out for Feyre and Mor to see.

Mor nodded and looked at Feyre for confirmation. Feyre didn’t notice though, as her eyes were locked onto Nesta’s outstretched hand.

“Are those...mom’s?” She asked, voice soft.

Nesta nodded. “I found them in her jewelry box. If you don’t like them, I can-.”

She shook her and cleared her throat. “No, they’re perfect.”

Nesta couldn’t place the emotion in Feyre’s voice. She’d been young when their mother passed, didn’t have as many memories with her, and none were particularly fond.

Nesta set down the pins on the vanity so Mor could continue to work her magic.

“Anything else?” Nesta asked, still trying to gauge Feyre’s emotions she slowly backed out of the room.

“No,” Feyre said, downing the rest of her drink. “Actually, another mimosa sounds nice.”

“Okay,” Nesta said, hesitantly, but she wouldn’t argue with the bride. But when she got to the kitchen, Cassian had stepped inside and was standing on the rug, staring longingly at the fridge.

Nesta blinked, crossing her arms as she entered the room. “Problem?”

“Beer,” he said, pointing to the fridge. “My boots are dirty.”

Considered they had spent the entire day before scrubbing the house, Nesta had to admire the fact that he thought about such things.

Laughing under her breath, she went to the fridge, retrieved a cold beer, and walked in back to him on the mat.

“You could’ve just taken your shoes off,” Nesta said, handing it to him.

“I could’ve,” he agreed, voice light, as he pulled her into him by her outstretched hand. He kissed her, softly. “You look tense.”

She shrugged one shoulder, resting her head against his chest, careful not to mess up her hair which had been intricately braided off her face. “I wouldn’t say tense. I just…” She glanced out the window again, to where everything was coming together now that Elain was adding greenery and flowers on every spare surface. “I want everything to be perfect. It’s the least I can do after-.”

“Hey.” He interrupted her, but his voice was gentle, the words were firm. It was a conversation they’d had dozens of times by this point. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Your sisters love you. They have forgiven you for leaving, even though you were doing what was best for you at the time. You don’t have to keep atoning for it.”

She nodded and Cassian pressed a kiss to her forehead. He pulled back and looked at her, resting the back of his fingers on her cheek. “Are you okay? You feel clammy, baby.”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Just nervous for...everything.”

He smiled softly and nodded, understanding immediately.

The B&B would be officially re-opening in two weeks and they were booked all the way through the holidays. Nesta was worried she was getting in over her head, but on the nights when she awoke in a panicked, cold sweat, Cassian would pull her into his arms until she could breathe again.

He’d sleepily ask her what her “stupid ten step process for success” was and he’d listen quietly while she listed them. Then he’d ask her what she was specifically worried about. Sometimes she had a reason and they’d talk it through. But more often not, when she admitted that she didn’t know, he’d kiss her and rub her back until she dozed back off.

No one had ever loved her the way Cassian Nazari loved her.

Instead of making her feel like a burden for her anxieties, he wanted to help her work through them. When she’d snap at him after a long day, he’d make some smart ass response, often angering her further, but she’d soon realize he was just trying to distract her. She’d find him and wouldn’t even have to say anything before he’d wrap her in his arms and press a kiss to the top of her head.

He embraced all of the things she hated about herself and he loved them for her.

“Have a drink,” he suggested, cracking open his beer. He grinned as she rolled her eyes, and kissed her one last time before taking his can with him back out onto the porch.

“I’ve got to get ready,” he said, looking back at her as he meandered back into the warm sunlight. “Or else the bride will have my balls.”

“True,” Nesta laughed, leaning against the doorframe as she watched him walk away. “Use the lavender soap, you stink.”

“It’s my natural musk,” he protested, boots thudding down the porch steps.

Nesta chuckled, watching him jog while chugging his beer, heading down the long dirt path to his cabin.

She sighed, as a cool breeze kissed her face and she smiled. She never stopped being amazed that someone like Cassian could be hers, that he chose her over everyone else. 

Her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she checked it.

You were looking at my butt, weren’t you?

She looked down the path, where he had disappeared before replying. Obviously.

She had taken a step back into the kitchen, where the caterers had vacated. She had told Feyre that she’d love to cater, but she hadn’t had enough hands for the 150 guests they had invited. Besides, Feyre had protested, claiming that she wanted her sister to not have to worry about a thing, as she was now a very important part of the bridal party. 

Which she really had to finish getting ready for. Mor had already done Nesta’s hair but she was going to do her own makeup alongside Elain, who would be back any second with the bouquets. 

Her phone vibrated, once more, just as she was about to get Feyre’s mimosa refill. 

Well now I’m turned on, damn it, come shower with me.

Nesta snorted at the words on her screen. She sent him the middle finger emoji as the image of him in the shower flashed through her mind. She let that image linger as she filled her sister’s mimosa request.

“Sorry I’m late, I’m here!” Elain blew through the backdoor, a whirlwind of white lilies and lavender cosmos, scaring the shit out of Nesta and making her jump, sloshing orange juice across the counter.

Elain set the vases holding their bouquets on the table and asked, “How’s Feyre holding up?”

Nesta was wiping everything down with a damp paper towel, and held out the glass. Elain took it from her as she said, “This is her fourth mimosa.”

Elain sighed, “Oh, that’s not so bad-.”

“Since lunch,” Nesta added, pulling two more champagne flutes from the cabinet.

Elain muttered, “Oh, gods.”

“Exactly, so,” Nesta said, pouring two more glasses of champagne, and topping them with orange juice. “Go give that to Future Mrs. Lunasa and then come meet me in the bathroom so I can do your makeup while Mor finishes her hair.”

“Deal,” Elain said, and followed her sister’s directions. Nesta took one more quick look around the grounds, making sure everything was going as it should, before meeting Elain in the bathroom. While Nesta did Elain’s makeup, she confessed that she thought Azriel would be proposing any day. He’d been dropping little hints, so Elain thought, and Nesta had to admit that she saw it, too.

It was nice to see her sister so happy, being loved by such a gentle, genuine soul. 

“And if he does propose?” Nesta asked, finishing the pink stain on Elain’s plump lips. “Do you already have it all planned out? Your wedding?”

“Of course,” Elain said, smiling brightly. “Same wedding I planned when I was ten.”

Nesta laughed as Elain looked in the mirror and beamed. She turned, fishing through her makeup bag for her concealer.

“What about Cassian?” Elain asked.

The question brought Nesta up short. She froze, blinking a few times as she processed what she’d just been asked. “What about him?” She asked, applying the concealer and blending it.

“Things have been going well,” Elain prodded, wanting Nesta to give her the saucy details like Feyre was so prone to. “Have you thought about whether he might…”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, raising her glass to her lips. She needed something stronger than champagne. “Might what?”

“Might ask you to marry him, of course.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Nesta nearly sprayed orange juice and champagne all over the bathroom. “We’ve only been together for three months!”

“Officially three months,” Elain corrected. “You’ve been sleeping together for four.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she mixed highlighter into the concealer and dabbed it onto her cheekbone. “So romantic.” Elain stared at her in the mirror. “It’s only been three months. We’re not talking about this.”

“And?” She said, crossing her arms. “You’re perfect for each other.”

“That doesn’t mean we should rush into a marriage!”

Elain’s smile was soft but her eyes were full of mischief as she said, “Whatever you say.”

“Whatever I say?” Nesta repeated. “You better not bring this subject up to him.”

“Why is that?” Elain asked, looking at herself in the mirror one final time. “And that isn’t something I’d do at all.”

“That’s exactly something you’d do,” Nesta muttered. “And I’m fully aware that he calls you for every little thing, so don’t be getting any ideas of trying to persuade him into a proposal.”

“Oh, Nesta,” Elain sighed, shaking her head as she picked up a blending sponge to assist her older sister. “It’s cute how you think he needs persuading.”

Nesta closed her eyes and sighed, fully intending to say something snarky back that Cassian would have been proud of, but when she opened her eyes, she clamped a hand over her mouth, and rushed to the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach.

“Oh shit,” Elain cried, rushing over and pulling the length of Nesta’s hair over her shoulder, and holding it back. After she heaved another two times, and was clear there wouldn’t be a third, she asked, “Are you okay?”

Nesta nodded, grabbing some toilet paper and wiping her mouth and flushing the toilet. “I’m fine, I just need to brush my teeth. I’ve been a wreck over the opening and knowing everyone will be here today…”

Elain’s face softened. “Oh, honey. You should have told us you were nervous. We’ve been available to help with whatever you need.”

Nesta shook her head. “You’ve been so busy with Feyre’s florals and she’s been busy with everything else, Cass and I have taken care of it all.” She made her way to the sink and quickly brushed her teeth. After rinsing her mouth and making sure she hadn’t somehow wrecked her hair, Nesta continued, “Besides, there’s nothing I’m specifically worried about. It’s just me, overthinking things, as always.”

Elain’s eyes softened. Nesta could tell she wanted to say something more, but she just nodded. “Well, let me get you some water, at least, and when I come back I’ll finish your makeup. Okay?”

“Thanks,” Nesta breathed, and when Elain left, she fell down in the chair they had brought into the middle of the bathroom floor. She closed her eyes to try and tame her racing heart, but it did no good. She pulled out her phone to see if Cassian had texted, which he had, but there were no words.

Instead it was a picture of Beau, the ring bearer, wearing a bow tie hooked to his collar. Nesta chuckled to herself before putting her phone on the counter. Once Elain came back, she tentatively sipped from the water bottle she’d brought as Elain finished up her makeup.

Then, the announcement came.

“Alright, bridesmaids!” Mor called from down the hall. “Come see the bride!”

They hurried back into her bedroom, where Mor was pinning Feyre’s veil into place.

“Feyre,” Elain breathed, a hand over her mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

And she did, with her smokey eye and loose waves, her dress shimmering like the stars with every movement she made.

She was about to cry and Feyre, emotions fueled by the mimosas, bless her heart, was already tearing up.

She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. “I’m about to get married.”

Mor pressed a kiss to Feyre’s cheek and quietly left the room, giving the sisters a moment of privacy.

Nesta watched as Elain moved and embraced their sister. Feyre hugged her, but her eyes lifted and connected with Nesta’s identical pair. She smiled softly, and Nesta returned it, stepping closer.

“Sort of makes us look bad, you know,” she said, gesturing to Elain and herself, sitting on the foot of the bed. “The youngest getting married first.” She winked and Feyre laughed, while Elain hurried down to the kitchen where she’d left their bouquets.

She came back a moment later, bouquets in hand.

“Here,” she said to Feyre, handing her the most extravagant one.

For a moment, as Feyre turned to the mirror, once more, they all just stared in awe and wonder. Then, Nesta looked at the clock.

“Thirty minutes,” she announced, quietly.

Feyre bounced impatiently in front of the mirror as Nesta and Elain put the finishing touches on themselves and slipped into their midnight blue dresses. Thirty minutes later, the three of them were standing in the kitchen, Feyre and her bridesmaids.

“Ready?” Nesta whispered.

“Yeah,” Feyre breathed.

Elain and Nesta would walk down the aisle on their own, since Cassian would be walking with Feyre.

Nesta glanced out the window, watching for Rhys to step out of the stable door and stand next to Kallias, who would be officiating the ceremony. When he appeared, she looked over to Feyre and said, “It’s time.”

Nesta was the first one down the aisle, and though this day was not for her, she enjoyed seeing the faces of old friends and people from her childhood and high school days she had all but forgotten about. But there were also some unexpected faces in the crowd.

That of Tamlin, for instance, the one serious boyfriend Feyre had had aside from Rhysand. As far as she had known, they’re split was less than amicable, so his presence today was shocking.

Elain followed, smiling at Azriel, who stood next to Rhysand, the entire way down. Then they all stood and turned to face the main house, where Cassian waited just outside of the kitchen door. He held out his hand, and Feyre stepped out, her long, lace train trailing behind her as she walked out onto the back porch and looped her arm through Cassian’s.

The sight made Nesta breathless. 

He looked so proud, so happy for Feyre as he walked her forward, down the aisle. Their parents couldn’t be there. Their father couldn’t walk her down the aisle. But Cassian loved Feyre like she was family, of that she had no doubt, and was honored to fill the position.

The ceremony was short, but it was personal and exactly what Feyre and Rhys had always wanted. They cared more about the fact that they were finally, finally married, and that it was time to celebrate with their friends and family.

The stables had just been completed a couple weeks beforehand, and rather than immediately moving the horses in, they decided to use it to house the reception. The doors were opened to reveal long tables set for an elegant feast. Lights were strung around, and it looked like something from an ethereal garden.

Nesta stood just outside as the guests milled about, mingling in small and large groups, dancing and laughing, finally able to let out a breath after hearing their praises.

Cassian met her there, just outside of the doors as the sun sunk low behind the distant hills.

“Hey,” he smiled, softly. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how beautiful you look.”

Nesta shook her head as he took her hand and pressed his lips to it. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Oh, I know,” he crooned, nodding politely to those who greeted him in passing. “You did great, you know. This place looks amazing. I’ve been hearing people talk about it all night and there’s a lot of night left.”

“I did great?” She laughed, gesturing to the building in front of them. “I decorated and bought some overpriced furniture. You… Cassian, you built this.”

“For you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I built this for you, for us.”

“I love you,” she said, leaning back into him.

 He pressed a kiss to the hollow of her neck. “I love you too.” They quietly observed as their friends and family celebrated Rhys and Feyre and their love for each other. They watched as he spun her around the dance floor, Elain and Azriel swaying slowly off to the side. His lips were by her ear when he asked, “Do you want to go in?”

She just wrapped his arms around her tighter and said, “I think I’m fine right here for now.”

They waited outside the open doors, watching the guests flow in and get comfortable, then get served. She was certain Cassian was starving, but he never strayed from her said, and Nesta’s day had been so anxiety-filled that the nausea from earlier lingered and food was not yet her friend. So they remained until the cake was cut and they were called in for speeches. Cassian made one, making everyone laugh, which was no surprise. Then Elain made one, making Feyre cry, which also wasn’t a surprise. And while everyone finished up their desserts and sipped from their alcohol-filled glasses, Feyre and Rhysand were called to the dance floor to begin the festivities with their official first dance, though they’d already been dancing together all night.

Rhysand took his bride into his arms and planted a kiss on her mouth as the slow song began to play. They swayed back and forth, and it was such an intimate moment that Nesta could hardly contain the whirlwind of emotions that swept throughout her body. She leaned back into Cassian's solid frame as they watched.

Until a figure appeared on the edge of the parquet floor, looking for all the world like he would run at the happy couple. The fact that he slowly strolled to them in the center of the floor was almost more unsettling, so casual and cool. Rhysand’s back was to him, and Feyre was so focused on the way Rhys was looking at her that she didn’t notice him until his hand was gripping her elbow.

Cassian stiffened, his arms tightening around Nesta protectively. “What the hell is O’Brien doing here?”

There wasn’t time to answer, though, because Tamlin had pulled Feyre out of Rhysand’s arms and had sloppily pressed his mouth to Feyre’s. The older guests were appalled while everyone else was generally confused. 

Cassian was moving toward the dance floor, as was Azriel, but there was no need because Rhysand had grabbed Tamlin by the collar and was hauling him off his wife.

Then Rhysand’s fist met Tamlin’s jaw.

It was a whirlwind of shouts and insults, Cassian grabbing Rhys, while Lucien appeared out of nowhere and stood in front of his friend, disappointment written all over his face. Azriel had put Feyre behind him, blocking Tamlin from making another move, but also keeping Feyre hidden from his sight.

“She was mine!” Tamlin’s raised voice was slurred and the way he leaned on Lucien left no doubt that he was plastered, no doubt thanks to the open bar they had provided. “You couldn’t stand me having her, so you took her from me! You’ve always taken everything!”

“Tamlin, this isn’t the time,” Lucien mumbled, trying to steer him away from the commotion, but he was too strong.

“You wore my ring first!” He said, a finger pointed at Feyre, who’d run to Rhys, clinging to his arm. “This was supposed to be our day.”

The words were sad, empty. There was no anger on the faces of their family, only pity.

“I left, Tamlin,” she said, her voice small, but firm. “He didn’t take me, I left. Just like you need to leave now.”

“Fuck you!” His words were like a lance to her heart, even after all these years, but the cold chill that went down her spine replaced the anguish at his next action.

Tamlin pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at Rhys.

Everyone in the room stilled.

Nesta felt like she was going to vomit. Cassian’s hand still rested on Rhysand’s shoulder. She could tell by the look in his damned hazel eyes that he wanted to jump in front of his friend, but he didn’t move, no one did, scared that any sudden movement would set Tamlin off.

But Tamlin was set off, anyway.

With a shaky hand, he pulled the trigger, and the shot went off. The loud bang rang out through the stables, and Feyre cried out with a miserable, horrid scream. 

But Rhysand hadn’t been hit.

Tamlin had missed as the gun fell from his hand, unexpected recoil jarring him. Lucien quickly scooped up the weapon as Tamlin stared wide-eyed at his shaking hands, as if he was surprised he had really done such a thing.

It took Nesta a second to realize, though, that the bullet hadn't missed everyone.

Cassian’s knees hit the floor, breathing already shallow as he pressed a hand to the red splotch blossoming from his chest, stark against the white of his shirt.

Nesta didn’t realize the cry she heard had come from her until Elain was wrapping her arms around her, supporting her as she tried to run for the dance floor.

Azriel took off after Tamlin’s retreating form, already half obscured in the darkness of the woods surrounding the property. Rhys helped flip Cassian over on his back and he was trying to keep him talking while tending to his wound, ripping the shirt away, his EMT training kicking in.

Nesta was frozen in place. She pushed Elain off of her and went to Cassian’s side, kneeling beside his head.

“Hey,” she breathed, taking his face into her hands. He looked up at her with wide, frantic eyes. “You’re okay, just talk to me.”

“Ambulance is on their way,” Feyre announced, phone held up to her ear. 

“Doesn’t hurt that bad,” he muttered. “Do I look tough?”

Nesta tried to laugh, but she just started crying harder. His eyes were shimmery, focus fading in and out.

“Cass, don’t you dare go to sleep,” Rhys said, tearing the shirt to pieces and pressing it into the wound. Cassian swore as Rhys applied pressure, and when red started coating the fresh fabric, he cursed as well.

Cassian’s eyes started to flutter closed as Rhys breathed, “It's so close to his heart, I don’t know if it hit an artery or-.”

Azriel burst back through the crowd. “I lost him. I think he left the property.”

“I’ll go with you to the police station,” Elain said, softly, face pale as she watched Cassian.

Azriel nodded and they were off. 

An ambulance pulled onto the property a moment later.

Helion was out the door, a crazed look in his eye. He and his partner ran over to where Cassian and Rhys were on the ground, the former nearly unconscious.

“Man, when I said I wished I could come to your wedding, this isn’t what I meant,” Helion said, barely registering Nesta’s presence as he felt for Cassian’s vitals.

Rhys' hair was falling into his eyes, but his hands were coated in his best friend’s blood, so he shook it away. “I figured you’d need a dramatic entrance.”

“Is this really the time?” Feyre asked, kneeling next to her sister, dirt and blood soaking into her pristine wedding dress. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Just trying to keep it light,” Helion mumbled. He raised his voice. “Cass. Hey, man, need you to stay with me.”

Cassian’s eyes fluttered open, hazily looking around him. They settled on Nesta and he tried to say something but his eyes rolled back in his head and he was gone.

“Cassian!” Nesta cried, feeling so utterly helpless, she didn’t know what to do.

Helion glanced at Rhys. “I can’t tell if the bullet grazed his heart or if it’s in an artery, but he’s lost a lot of blood.” He looked around at the wedding guests. “We need to clear these people out, to wait for the police, but we have to get him to the hospital. Now.”

Cassian was loaded into the ambulance, Rhysand going inside with him, but Nesta was still frozen in place, sitting in her blood-soaked gown on the ground. 

“Come on,” Feyre whispered, helping Nesta to her feet. “I’ll drive.”

They hadn’t driven for more than ten minutes, but the ride from the ranch to the hospital felt like it took forever. The entire time, Nesta’s heart was racing, her hands shaking as the worst case scenario constantly flew through her mind.

“Did you…” Nesta’s voice sounded far away, even to herself. “Did you invite him?”

Feyre cleared her throat. “No, of course not. I know you weren’t around, but I’m sure Elain filled you in on the details.”

Nesta shook her head. “We didn’t talk much.”

Feyre glanced over at her. “It...wasn’t pretty.”

Nesta knew she should be asking Feyre how she was doing. Nesta’s boyfriend may have been shot, but the gun was pointed at Feyre’s husband, on her wedding day. And yet, as her mouth opened, nothing more came out. So Nesta reached across the middle console and took her sister’s hand. Feyre’s fingers wrapped around Nesta’s, tightly.

After that, neither of them said a word.

Once they parked, Nesta and Feyre were hurrying across the parking lot. They saw Rhysand outside of the ER once they arrived.

His suit was drenched in Cassian’s blood.

Feyre ran into his arms as Nesta blurted, “How is he?”

“Breathing,” Rhysand answered, but his face was pale. “They’re doing what they can. They just rushed him back.”

“How did he-.” A sob finally broke from Feyre, cutting off any other words, after she’d been so strong on the way. Rhys just wrapped her up in his arms and held his new wife as she began to cry into his chest. He buried his face in her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Nesta quietly entered the hospital, giving them the private moment they needed. She hadn’t realized she lost her shoes until she felt the cold tile under her feet. She didn’t know how much of Cassian’s blood was on her, hadn’t had a chance to look in a mirror, but it must have been a lot. The second she entered the waiting room, two nurses rushed to her, asking if she was okay, if she was injured, if the blood was hers.

She shook her head and when she said, “Cassian Nazari,” recognition dawned.

“He’s in surgery,” the younger of the two said, keeping her voice gentle. “It could be a little while before we know anything.”

Nesta silently nodded and walked to the chairs in the corner, her long gown swishing as it skimmed the floor. She sat down, letting her head fall into her hands.

When she pulled them away, she noticed they were still coated in Cassian’s blood.

Nesta could no longer stop the sob that broke from her. She stared at her hands as she cried, caught the tears that had streamed down her face, peppering the dried, crimson blood that coated her skin with wet, light pink spots. She knew she was a mess, knew she looked like she had lived through a horror movie, but she didn’t care. She would stay in that chair until he woke up. 

And he would wake up.

Because if he didn’t…

No, she wouldn’t think of the alternative.

Nesta cried until the nausea brewing in her stomach overtook her, and she dropped to her knees by the closest wastebasket and hurled, the heaves wracking her body.

“Are you okay?” She glanced up and found the same sweet nurse a few feet away. She nodded, but heaved again. The nurse hurried away, returning with a water bottle and a few wet paper towels. She gave her the water bottle and when Nesta took it, the nurse took her hand and began to wipe it down with the warm rag. “What’s your name, honey?”

She cleared her throat and answered, “Nesta, ma’am.”

She smiled at the manners, and reached for the other hand, which Nesta willingly handed it over. After a moment, all that remained of Cassian’s blood was under her nails. “Nesta Nazari or…?”

She shook her head. “Archeron. Cassian is my boyfriend.”

She gently patted the back of Nesta’s hand. “You’re Feyre’s sister.” At Nesta’s surprised blink, she said, “I’m Viviane. Kallias is my husband. He’s in good hands, honey. I promise.” She reached for the small trash can, seeing it was empty, despite Nesta retching in it multiple times. “Have you eaten today?”

The thought of food nearly had her ripping the can out of her hands and heaving again. She shook her head and without another word, Viviane was heading for the desk.

She came back a moment later with a consent form and a pack of crackers. 

“I know you’ve been through a lot,” Vivian said. “And tell me to mind my own business if you wish, but I think you may be dehydrated and I’d like to bring you back and get you fluids. You’ll still be waiting, and I’ll still let you know as soon as there is word on your boyfriend...but, if you haven’t eaten all day and you’ve been getting sick...I’d like to help.”

Nesta nodded, jaw locked. It had been a long day of nausea, and if Nesta passed out when Cassian woke up...she didn’t want to miss it. “Okay.”

Viviane asked her a few questions before escorting her back to a room. She helped Nesta out of her bloody bridesmaid dress and into a hospital gown. After Nesta sat on the cot, she was hooked up to an IV machine and getting fluids pumped into her. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Viviane said. “Press the button on the remote. I’ll be back to check on you soon.”

She nodded, unsure of her voice and stared at her bare legs hanging over the edge of the bed. She heard the door click shut and sat there in the silence. She glanced over at her IV, watching the slow drip. She wondered if they’d given her some sort of sedative as well, because she knew she must have been hysterical in the waiting room.

All at once, she realized she didn’t have anything. She didn’t have her purse, her phone, her keys. She needed to call Elain, needed to let her know where she was.

She turned, seeing the remote attached to the back of the bed. Swinging her legs up and laying back, she reached for the remote in its cradle. The IV tugged and Nesta sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth. She couldn’t reach the remote, not without possibly blowing her IV. She sighed and settled back into the pillows, waiting for Viviane to return so she could ask her to let Feyre know where she was.

As she laid there, her eyelids became heavier and she let out a soft, quiet sob as the day's events dragged her into a fitful sleep.

Nesta woke hours later in a panic, but she wasn’t alone. Elain laid on the couch, sleeping soundly on Azriel’s lap, who was using the back of the couch as a pillow.

Nesta pulled herself up and whispered her name. “Lainy?”

Elain was instantly alert, eyes wide as she saw her sister. “Thank goodness.”

But Nesta was shaking her head. “Cass?”

Elain hesitated. “Out of surgery, but still not awake. Rhysand and Feyre are sitting with him now.”

“I want to see him,” Nesta said, feeling her eyes well up with tears, once again. She threw the thin blanket that was covering her - Viviane, no doubt, bless her heart - and moved to get off the bed.

Elain was up, gently grabbing Nesta’s shoulders and making her sit back down. “Nes, wait, you need to rest.”

“I need to see Cassian,” Nesta said, a little louder than before. “Let me go see him.”

“Just wait a few minutes, okay?” Elain said, attempting to reason with her. “It’s the middle of the night.”

Nesta shook her head, trying to stop the tears from running down her face. “I don’t care what time it is, he needs me.”

“We need to tell you something, Nes.”

Both women stopped struggling to look over at Azriel, his head tipped back, voice still deep from sleep.

“What?” Nesta asked, voice full of panic. “What happened? What’s wrong with Cass?”

Elain’s eyes softened as she took her sister’s hands in her own. “Nothing. I told you, he’s unconscious, but steady.”

“Then what is it?” Nesta asked, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “I’m not following, I don’t understand. Is it Tamlin?”

“Just…” Elain’s words trailed off as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Azriel was watching them both wearily. “They took tests when they first brought you back here, right?”

Nesta nodded, slowly.

“Well, the results came in while you were asleep,” Elain said, words coming out quickly as she nibbled on her bottom lip. “Nesta, you’re pregnant.” 

[lightskinrry]

no wedding for the bad boys

The one where the bachelor’s party doesn’t go according to the plan

A/N: hello cuties,,, after not writing for a while im back with some angsty shit!!!! i hope you guys like it and don’t hesitate to share your thoughts with me about this mess!!

Word Count: 5k

TW: a loooooot of alcohol; gambling and ANGST.

One of the things you liked so much about being the single friend was that you were always the one to keep the party alive. And now you were about to birth the best party of all times. Your best friend was getting married in two weeks and you were in charge of the bachelor’s party.

And with great power comes great responsibility, you had to plan everything and keep it a surprise. And if there was one thing you sucked at; it was keeping secrets, especially from Harry. He always had his way with you; it was hard keeping anything from him.

You couldn’t quite believe he was getting married. You watched him grow from a horny teenager to a beautiful and inspiring man. You saw him give his first concert in his mom’s living room and then watched him sold out arenas around the world.

You gave him his first kiss and helped him cheat his math tests and now you were his best-woman at his wedding. You helped him break up with his exes, held him while he cried, bringing him tequila and ice cream on bad days, making him laugh once the tears dried away. And he always did the same for you. And now you were gonna be by his side like you’ve always been on the most beautiful day of his life.

You had your little reluctance towards his future spouse. She was a beautiful and independent woman but you felt like you couldn’t see through her. Maybe because she entered into your lives not so long ago and you needed more time to get her. You could tell she didn’t like you much, anyway.

They’ve been together for less than a year and Harry “commitment issues” Styles proposed to her, to everybody’s surprise; even his own.

His mom tried to tell him that he had to be sure before pulling out such a great move. But he was so infatuated, it was too beautiful to bring him back to reality.

You didn’t want to interfere anyway so when he told you, despite your surprise and little bitterness; you supported him like a good friend.

He seemed so happy and into her, you didn’t want to let him know you didn’t trust his future wife or that to you all of this seemed premature. You also didn’t want your own feelings to balance his.

Anyway, you started planning the party ahead of time and everything was going rather well. Miss (future) Styles gave you some instructions and rules to follow regarding the party because Harry said you could do anything you wanted except if she wasn’t okay with it. So no strippers, no hookers, no clowns. Who would even bring a clown to a bachelor party? Well it seemed she didn’t want that anyway. She also said not too much alcohol and no drugs. She could’ve just tell you to cancel the party at that extent. But you had to give in to her commands...

Looked like you were about to organize a tea party for elderly people… Literally, bring out the cucumber sandwiches and put milk in your tea like these old rich british dudes.

You had to find a way to make a real bachelor party. Something huge and iconic; something legendary. You planned on giving Harry a Barney’s worthy type of party.

You thought about every outcomes that could make his future wife freak out. So you decided instead of staying too close to her, why not make a spontaneous move.

You met with the groomsmen and basically all yours and Harry’s friends that would be attending the party to make sure everyone was in with the plan and obviously said nothing to Harry.

You kept the secret until d-day.

You were waiting for him, wearing your red suit, in the lobby. “Harry, we’re leaving now, man. If you’re not out that door in 2, we’ll celebrate your party without you.”

He rushed through the hallway. “I’m right here. Ready to party like I’m already seventy.”

You told him about his bride-to-be restrictions concerning the party so he didn’t expect anything crazy. “No worries, baby. You still look young.”

It was a short ride to his favorite restaurant. You were driving, screaming-singing the lyrics to Got To Be Real and he was singing with you, taking breaks in his track to laugh with you. You parked in his usual spot and walked through the door, all your friends already sitting at the table, cheering when they saw the two of you walking in.

“Ah! Here he is! The man of the night!” Jeff stood to welcome Harry to the table.

You both took a sit and order a few drinks.

The evening went fast, you had great dinner, shared cuban cigars, good alcohol and had the best chocolate cake. Everything was moderate just like Tania asked; a fancy dinner in a fancy restaurant, not too much alcohol and nobody blacked out.... yet.

Harry stood, raising his glass to make a toast. “Thank you guys so much for tonight. I know we wanted to throw a rock’n’roll party…” He gave you a sly look. “But I appreciate that you took the time and care to give me a real grownup bachelor party.” He laughed a little. “I love you guys. I feel so lucky to have friends like you. So supportive and thoughtful. Thank you.”

All of you cheered on him. And one by one all of your friends left, claiming to be going home to their spouses. You and Harry were the last one to leave the restaurant. You stood next to the car, as Harry thanked the staff, waiting for him to come to you.

“So… I have a little surprise for you.” You gave him a sneaky smile.

“Oh god, this cannot be good.”

You smiled and pulled out a blindfold out of your pocket. He shook his head. “No. No. No. That doesn’t look good at all.”

You giggled and insisted. “C’mon. It’s your bachelor party. I promise it’s going to be fun but not too much.” You smiled. “Do you trust me?”

He sighed loudly… “Fine, Y/N. You better not throw me in the back of a truck or some kidnapping bullshit like that.”

You scoffed. “No worries.”

He closed his eyes and you put yourself behind him, placed the blindfold on his face and smiled contentedly. “Good. Now just follow me, baby. I got big plans for you.”

He laughed nervously and turned around to face you. “I feel like I might die tonight. But you know what? I trust you and your fucking crazy ideas. I knew you couldn’t just stop at dinner party and cigars.”

You gave him your best evil laugh and directed him to his seat in the car. You placed yourself in the driver seat, put on your playlist and drove.

After about 30 minutes driving and Harry complaining about the blindfold, you pulled over in the parking lot. You directed Harry through the airport, up until the gate of the plane. There all of your friends were waiting silently, smiling slyly.

“I can’t believe you convinced him.”

Harry turned around on himself. “Mitch?”

All your friends cheered to let him know they were all here.

“Fuck, so that was a group plan, huh? What did she convinced me to do? Because I can tell we’re in a airport, I’m not deaf and this is a bad plan, I can already tell. This is a bad plan.”

You all laughed and you gently stroked Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, when did I ever put you in a bad situation?”

“That time in Atlanta when we ended up-”

“This never happened. It was a fever dream. You know I would never put you in a bad situation.” You cut him in his track, remembering the misadventure.

“What about that night in NYC last year? I remember that basement, Y/N.”

“This wasn’t a bad situation, just a plan that kinda failed.”

He giggled before turning around again. “Okay, so what’s the plan that will most certainly fail today?”

“You get your ass on that plane and you’ll see!”

Harry sighed but with the help of everyone, he got on the plane. You took the blindfold off him and made sure to keep him busy during the flight.

After the pilot announced the destination, you watched Harry’s soul leave his body.

“Vegas? Fucking Vegas? You guys are all mad. Mad men. Does Tania even know?”

All of you gave him a big smile and said “Surprise!” in harmony.

“She doesn’t know. We’ll call her later. Just relax, mate.” Tom smiled at Harry and laid back in his seat.

Harry leaned in your ear and whispered. “She’s going to kill both of us, you know that?”

“Then we’ll both die after the best party of our lives.”

The flight was fun. You guys chattered and laughed. Harry was finally relaxing and giving into the mood. You couldn’t wait until you land to show him all you planned for tonight. But mostly all you didn’t plan; the best nights you spent with Harry were the ones that started without a plan. The ones that were supposed to be chilling at home. Actually even chilling at home turned into the best night. That was the thing; even the most boring shit can be amazing if you’re with the right people.

***

After landing and getting down from the plane, you lead Harry and all your friends to where the party was at; everywhere. You were painting the town red tonight.

You started with a few drinks in the lobby of the hotel, making your way downtown to a Casino just for the sake of being in Vegas, then you moved to a ballroom where a 30s theme party was going on. You sipped on Martinis and Manhattans until the fancy drinks were getting boring so you moved the group to a grunge club. Everybody was dancing and drinking and whatever else they found amusing. You could tell everyone was having fun, especially Harry.

Around 2AM some girl proposed to your group to come to her place cause she was throwing an after-party.  And obviously, everyone followed because following drunk strangers is fun.

You ended up at her place; all of y’all in a tiny apartment with some trash music and cheap alcohol, dancing and screaming until the neighbors called the cops for disturbance. So everyone, as drunk (and high for some) as they were, started leaving and running when the pigs showed up. You rolled with Harry, running through the night in the neighbourhood, laughing and breathing loudly.

“Fuck! I knew this was gonna end badly!” Harry laughed at you while reaching to grab your hand so you could run as fast as he did. You tightened your grip around his hand once you had it and ran to a dark corner.

You placed your hands on your knees and sighed, breathing deeply. “It could’ve been worse. The pigs could’ve arrested us.”

“I’m pretty sure my negotiation skills would’ve gotten us out anyways.”

You scoffed. “Your white ass face would’ve been enough, baby.”

He laughed and grabbed your hands to keep going further away from the girl’s house and the police car. You both were too drunk to even think correctly about where to go. You sent a text to the groupchat asking if everyone was okay and to meet up at the hotel.

But neither you or Harry could tell what way to go so you walked for a little while, stopping by any bar you came across  to get another drink.

You walked for about an hour and you were finally heading back into the city center. Your feet hurt so you stopped in a little park next to a Casino and a crappy motel.

You sat your ass down on a bench and grabbed Harry’s hand to make him sit next to you. He sighed and sat. You watched the sky for a little while.

“The stars look like a bunch of beans. Like a shit ton of beans flying above us.”

You laughed at his drunken comment. “Yep, a sky full of fucking beans.”

You both started singing the Coldplay’s song in harmony but replacing stars with beans all the way through the chorus and cracking up in laughter everytime you emphasize the word ‘beans’.

Harry took a long breath after his giggle and sighed. “Fuck, I’m gonna miss this.”

You looked at him for a second. “What do you mean?”

“Having fun with you like that. I’m gonna miss it.”

“But none of us is going anywhere?” You were pretty confused about his statement.

“Tania wants to settle in Los Angeles.” He turned his head to look at you. “And you know… You’re not…in Los Angeles, you. You’re not.”

You didn’t expect that. You thought if Harry was to ever settle somewhere it’d be in London. “You mean you’re gonna spend all your free time in LA? Fucking LA? Drinking grass smoothies all the time?”

He chortled at your comment. “It seems like that’s the plan.”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, taking the information in. It felt worse than a breakup; you were losing your best-friend and without even knowing it, you threw the goodbye party.

“So you’re really going to marry her and move and we’ll never see each other again?”

Obviously alcohol made it all even more dramatic to you; it was an overwhelming emotion.

“Not never again…”

“C’mon, you know damn well what happens when longtime friends part sides! We’ve watched How I Met Your Mother together!”

He chuckled and then took a deep breath. The air was suddenly heavier, and all the alcohol in your blood was making it hard to keep the focus on the serious conversation.

“We should do one last crazy ass thing together. It’s not like we’re gonna remember it anyway!” Harry pointed the casino with his head.

“You mean blow all of our money on bets and shots of patron?”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I mean.”

You didn’t check your phone as it rang in your pocket and followed up behind Harry running towards the Casino.

You took a last round of shots in the lobby. And you started shouting at Harry, your glass in the air. “You know what? I just remembered you’re getting fucking married, dude! Married? Fucking married. I can’t believe I’m gonna say this but fuck this bitch you’re engaged to.”

Harry laughed and shouted back. “Hey! I’m already fucking this bitch I’m engaged to!”

You cracked up in a laugh. “Noooooo! I mean she sucks! She wants to take you away. Awaaaaaaay.” You hiccuped and took a breath.

“I’m in love with you. I’ve been since like fifth grade or whatever.” You chugged down the rest of your glass.

Harry stopped for a second, he placed his glass on the bar. “Wow. That’s a revelation.”

He giggled and took a sip of his tequila. “I’ve been in love with you since like….. That time in third grade when you punched me in the chin cause there was a bee on me….”

“Oh fuck! I remember…. Your lip bled so much.” You let a little laugh slip through your lips. The alcohol in your blood made you lose sense of the importance of the words you just shared with Harry and what he shared back. And you thought for a second that maybe it was just drunk talk but the stupid smile you couldn’t get off your face reminded you the truth of it: it was going to stink in the morning.

After making sure both of you got enough drinks, you led him in the Casino and stopped at the first roulette table.

“Okay.” You looked at Harry. “What’s the bet though? Cause I will be putting money on something I have no idea how to play.”

“Well if I win, then you have to elope with me.”

“Oh shit.” You took a deep breath. “Fair, but if I win, we are eloping this motherfucker together.”

He scoffed. “Looks like we’re eloping tonight… That word is fucking weird, though. Eloping.”

“Who cares about the word! I’m betting on number 22 and 15. What about you baby?”

Harry took a look at the roulette for a second, placed the cash he had in his pocket on the table. “22;15.” He looked at you with a smug smile.

The dealer spinned the wheel and revealed the winning number. “22. You win.”

You collected your payout with Harry, left a big tip to the server and ran out the Casino to find a chapel.

“This is going to be so bad!!” You laughed out while running with Harry.

“Like every plan you’ve ever put me into.”

You stopped in front of the chapel at the back of the crappy motel.

“I don’t want to get married to Tania… She’s amazing. I love her so much. But it’s so boring. So boring. I want stupid plans and crappy basements party and casinos and unexpected flights and I want to be able to say when I’m 78 and I don’t have no hair left and I smell like old shoes and cheese that I married my best friend and I never regretted anything.”

“You’re being too fucking deep, Harry. There’s a Madonna drag as the officiant in this chapel. You are going to regret this.”

He chuckled before taking your hand. “We, Y/N. We are going to regret this.”

“Yep.”

You took a step into the chapel, glanced at Harry’s face to be met with a big smile and his drunken eyes. “Fuck this, I guess?”

***

You woke up with a terrible headache, your eyes could barely open because the light was too bright in the room. There was a weird smell of old alcohol, carpet and coconut air freshener. You opened your eyes fully only for your vision to be blurry as hell, the ceiling was moving and your head was so heavy, you couldn’t lift it up. You tried to look around you, seeing pulled up green sheets over your naked body and what seemed to be the curves of someone laying next to you. You felt a rumbling in your stomach and that’s the moment you knew; you had to get up…. because you were going to throw up.

You rushed to the bathroom and closed the door behind you. After emptying your stomach, you sat on the floor for a few seconds. The bathroom was small and poorly lit with a little window over the bathtub. You stood up and washed your face, taking the time to look at yourself in the dirty old mirror over the sink. Your hair was a mess and your make up was smudged. You had a huge hickey on your neck and little ones following down to your chest. You got out of the bathroom, holding your head and stumbling slightly. The room was clear since the curtains were pulled, you peaked at who was sleeping in the bed and found Harry, draped in the sheets peacefully snoring. You swallowed the gulp in your throat; this wasn’t good. You checked your phone and to no surprise you had a shit ton of missed calls and texts from your group of friends. Some asking if you’re okay, others where you’re at and some insulting you for not answering.

You gently shook Harry’s body. “Wake up.” He moaned before pulling back the covers to his face. You tugged on them to uncover him, leaving his chest bare. “Wake up, Harry.”

He groaned and turned around to lay on his back, his face turned to the ceiling. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost 9.” He turned to face you, opening slightly his eyes to peek at you. “You’re naked.” He nonchalantly said. You blushed for a second pulling the covers off him to cover yourself. He looked down to himself. “I’m naked, too.”

A floating silence lasted a few seconds before Harry jumped out of bed to find his underwear. “I’m naked! I’m naked. You’re naked. We’re in a bed. We’re in…. Where even are we?”

“In a motel somewhere in Vegas.”

“In Vegas?” His voice got two octaves higher. “Why are we in Vegas?”

“For your bachelor party, Harry. Stop freaking out.”

“Are you asking me not to freak out? We’re in a bloody crappy motel in Vegas and we’re both naked. I can’t remember what happened last night for the life of me and my head is killing me.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, putting his pants back on. You looked at his back and you could see slight scratches marks with the sun light. You started getting dressed too, as fast as you could. Harry grabbed his phone and started scrolling down. You heard him sigh loudly.

“The fuck we did last night, Y/N?”

“Wish I could give you an answer, Harry. All I remember is getting on the plane and then it’s a black hole.”

“Well…” He got up from the bed, wearing only his trousers. You watched his chest for a second, his tattoos and his glowing chest in the sunlight. You caught yourself staring at him; his shoulders, his chest hair, your glaze going down to his trail.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice resonated.

“Huh?”

“Did you hear what I said?” He tilted his head to the side and gave you a confused look.

“What did you say?” Your eyes lowered to the floor so that you would stop looking at him.

“I said I hope we didn’t do anything stupid. The wedding is next week. I have a stressed and very angry bride-to-be waiting for me at home and at the look of her texts, I’m in for a bad fight.”

You pinched your lips at the thought. What if you did something stupid? What if you messed up? It was already a stressful time for them. And you stewed in with a giant weekend party in Vegas when the instruction was clear: no big party.

“Let’s go find the others and finish our weekend.”

Harry scoffed as he picked up his shirt. “I’m going home. I’m sorry if I’m breaking the mood but I’m hopping on the next flight back to LA.”

***

You couldn’t quite figure out how to place the flashbacks from the weekend. It was already Monday and the wedding was in 6 days. You had flashes of a party in a small and unknown apartment and running in the streets with Harry and playing in a Casino but still nothing on how you got into the motel with him. Harry went back home on Saturday morning and from his voice message last night; he got quite into fight with Tania. She wasn’t happy at all with the Vegas plan but Harry reassured her and apparently everything was better today. You wondered if Harry remembered anything more than you, maybe he could fill in the blanks.

You knew the week was going to go fast and the wedding would be here sooner than you’d think, so you just hoped nothing unexpected would come back to you or him.

On Wednesday, you met up with Harry and the groomsmen for last minute check-ins for the wedding. You walked into the manor Harry reserved for the ceremony and as an obvious bad sign, Tania didn’t even said hello to you and avoided any eye-contact. You kinda wanted to apologize to her. After all, you did mess up a little bit.

“Hey guys.” You walked up to where your friends was.

“Hey Y/N. Did you pick up the ring from the jeweler?” Harry didn’t even look at you. He was signing some papers with the caterer and just asked the question without looking up.

“Yep. Got it right in the bag.”

Harry gave you a little look and you felt weird about it. It wasn’t his usual ‘thanks for doing the job’ look or anything tender. It was cold and almost professional.

You went over your check-ins with the groomsmen. You didn’t talk to Harry for the two hours you were there, not a word or a look. You knew something was off so once the work was done, you asked him to meet you in the bathroom.

You were standing next to the sink, checking your reflection when Harry walked in.

“Is there something wrong with the ceremony?” He asked bluntly.

“No.. Um… I just wanted… needed… to talk to you.”

“About?” He wanted to cut the conversation short and you hated this feeling in your stomach.

You sighed and smiled tenderly to him. “Well… How are you feeling? The big day is so close.”

“I’m feeling okay.” His answer was sharp but you were desperate to understand what was going on.

“Harry… What’s wrong? Why are you so cold?” You insisted.

He took a deep breath and closed the door behind him, making sure it’s locked.

“You know how I said I hope we didn’t do anything stupid in Vegas?”

“Yes.” You were confused about where he was going with that but it seemed bad.

“Well, we did something stupid.” His jaw clenched and you felt out of breath. “We did something so fucking stupid, Y/N.” You swallowed the gulp in your throat. “We fucked. I can’t even believe it. I don’t even remember how we ended up in that crappy fucking room. All I remember is how I had sex with….” He didn’t even look at you. “I cheated on my wife, before we even fucking got married.”

You couldn’t say anything, the images slowly came back to you.

“You have nothing to say, huh?”

Your ‘humour coping mechanism in stressful situations’ reflex kicked in at the wrong time. “Well, technically it’s not cheating, the bachelor party is a single man party.” You laughed nervously.

“It’s all your fault. We said no fucking party. No big stupid plans, but you had to go against our wishes because you’re so fucking selfish.”

You couldn’t say a word. You never seen Harry so mad at you before.

“Look, I’m sorry your dating life is such a mess. And that you can’t find anyone, but I did. I found someone. Someone amazing and then I fucked this shit up because you couldn’t go without one party.” He rapidly passed his hand through his hair, and sighed.

You felt anger boiling down in your stomach. Him being mad was comprehensible but it wasn’t all your fault.

“You fucked this shit up, yourself. I wanted to throw a fun bachelor party for my best friend. You wouldn’t have had sex with me if you didn’t wanted to. Because deep down, you know you don’t want this marriage. You don’t want to be stuck with Miss Boring Pants and spend the rest of your life here in LA, drinking grass smoothies and having to partake in her posh high standard life. You know that’s not what you want. You know it was premature to propose so soon in the relationship. You’re mad at yourself, Harry. Get a grip. You shouldn’t do this.”

It all slipped. You just couldn’t hold it in.

“I shouldn’t do what?” Harry’s face was red, his nostrils were open and the vein on his neck was popping. You could tell he was holding back the tears at the gate.

You took a deep breath and a calm voice. “Get married. You shouldn’t get married.”

He filled his lungs with air and exhaled loudly, trying to keep his composure.

“Listen carefully Y/N. You are nobody to tell me what I should or shouldn't do. What happened in Vegas was a drunken mistake and I won’t let it ruin the best day of my life. I won’t let you ruin the best day of my life. So here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to go through the ceremony with no slips and then I’m moving to LA with Tania. And you, you move out of my life.”

Your heart sank to your stomach, and your face was boiling; the tears slowly gathering in your eyes.

“You don’t mean it.” Your voice was almost like a whisper.

“I do, Y/N. From now on, I just want to make sure this wedding is the perfect wedding Tania wants.”

He unlocked the door of the bathroom and left without looking back. You brought your hand to your chest as if it would soothe the pain and let the tears flow down your face. It couldn’t be real.

***

It was hard going on like nothing happened but if there was anything you could do right now was make sure you got your best-woman duties done. The wedding was tomorrow and you had to finish your speech. What would you even say? “To my ex-best friend, I wish you the best to you and your boring wife.” That sounds about right.

You were waiting for Jeff to come in with the last informations regarding the ceremony so that tomorrow everything goes according to the plan. You heard a knock on your door, you got up thinking Jeff came in early and opened up. A postman with a big envelope was standing there.

“Y/N  Y/L/N?” He asked, looking up from his notes.

“Yes, herself.”

He asked for your id and verified it. “That’s for you.” He handed you the enveloppe and after you took it, asked for you to sign the delivery papers.

You thanked him and got back inside. You sat on the sofa to open it, there was a Vegas postage on it and your heart missed a bit.

You slowly opened the envelope. Inside you found a marriage license legally binding you and Harry for life. You pinched your lips and took a deep breath. This was a mess, a huge mess.

How on point was this news? Good way to make sure his ceremony goes exactly like they planned when you’re going to come in and let them know they can’t get married anymore.

You sat back and tried to clear your mind.

You were officially married to Harry…. And Harry is about to actually get married tomorrow. This didn’t make much sense but you had to think of a solution and quick.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//it’s easy to say, but it’s never the same

Request: Hi do you imagines based off songs? If you do please can I have reader x sweet pea with the song somebody you loved by Lewis Capaldi where the reader and SP break up and SP is seeing someone else and the reader is missing him. Ty in advance xo

hey! i loooove this song! and i hope you love this!

Do you know when there’s so many things happening that you feel like you’re drowning? It’s just one thing after another and you feel like you’re sinking further and further. It becomes harder to break through the surface and breathe. 

For the past three months you’ve felt yourself slipping, this time however, there’s no one to save you. 

It started with you and Sweet Pea arguing, that evolved to him breaking up with you and you moving out. Things seemed to snowball after that, it was just one bad thing after the other until they all piled up into one really shitty, bad news snowman. 

You learnt two weeks ago from a very reluctant Fangs that Sweet Pea was seeing somebody else. He’d practically whispered it, but as soon as you heard ‘Sweet Pea’ and ‘seeing somebody else’ in the same sentence, you knew exactly what he’d said. 

He then proceeded to tell you that he’d met her and that she ‘seemed nice but not nearly as nice as you’. He made you swear not to tell Sweet Pea and you’d promised, not that it was that difficult. You were planning on avoiding him for as long as possible, which you were hoping would be for eternity. 

But now you’re all together at a wedding. Its a couple you all know from school, Juliet and Rebecca, and despite sitting through a very lovely ceremony, where both brides looked amazing, the only thing you could look at was him...well the back of his head. And the icing on the wedding cake? He brought her with him, and you’re here alone. 

Sweet Pea would usually be the one to help you with this stuff. Whenever you felt yourself falling, he was always there to pick you up. To hold your hand and tell you that you can get through this. But he’s not holding you’re hand. He’s holding hers, and they both look so happy. 

You don’t know what you did to the universe to piss it off so much, but apparently whatever you did warranted a pretty big punishment. Because not only did he bring her with him, you’re also sat opposite the two of them. 

There’s four people in total between you and Sweet Pea, and it feels too close and too far at the same time. Fangs and his boyfriend Jake are sat on one side, and Toni and Cheryl sit on the other. The four of them exchange awkward glances to their other halves every so often when they think you’re not looking, and every time it makes you sink further into the satin covered chair. 

Despite all the beauty and love that surrounds you, the only thing you feel is loneliness. The hall the reception is being held in looks amazing, flowers and fairly lights decorate the walls. There’s an abundance of cute little things for guests to do, from advice cards, to letters of love being posted in a tiny letterbox. Scattered around the tables are disposable cameras for guests to use and a photo booth sits in the corner beside the dance floor. You look at each of them longingly and let out a deep breath. The tables have a different flower sat on top of them, each of them meaning something to the brides. The table you’re sat at is sunflowers, and usually you love them, but now their brightness makes you angry. They are thriving in this environment, and your withering. Plus, it might just be you, but they all seem to facing Sweet Pea and that just makes you even angrier.  

If you’d come here with him, you know for a fact you would have dragged him to look at everything, pointing at everything you liked and wanted at your own wedding. You would have stolen a flower from the centre piece to keep, treasured the photos from the photo booth and you would have danced more than you would have sat down. 

Now though, you just want to go home, lie in bed and cry. You definitely look far too sad to be at a wedding, far too sad to be anywhere but in your bed to be honest. No matter how hard you try to plaster a smile on your face, it always wobbles when you catch sight of him. 

He looks good. 

His suit fits perfectly, and he’s got a little bowtie on which is a nice surprise. He’s changed his look slightly from the last time you saw him, his hair is no longer carefully styled, its fluffy and slightly curly and it takes everything in your power to stop thinking about running your fingers through it. 

And her, she’s just as pretty. Her hair curled, her dress flowing and her lipstick? To die for. They look good together, really good and it makes you shrink further into yourself. The conversation flows around you and you feel yourself blend into the background. 

“Excuse me!” Glass clinking from the top table stops all conversation and drags you back to reality. “Speeches!” Juliet cheers. “To my amazing wife. Can you believe you’re my wife? I have a wife! Guys...I’m married!” 

“Get on with it.” Rebecca rolls her eyes at her, a soft smile playing on her lips as they look at each other. The two of them share a tender moment before Juliet turns to face the guests. 

“Sorry dear.” She laughs. “To my amazing wife. When I met you at 15, I had no idea how much you would truly change my life. I only asked if there was anybody sitting beside you, I was scared and anxious about a new class where I didn’t know anybody and thought I would spend the rest of the year alone. But you said no, and some of my anxieties melted away. If only I’d known that that would set the precedent for the rest of our friendship, and then relationship. I am filled with anxieties, you know that better than anyone, but you’re always there to make me feel better. Right now, standing in front of our friends and families making this speech, I am terrified, but knowing you’re beside me, holding my hand and smiling, I know I can do it. In our vows, I said I’d take you as somebody to have, somebody to hold. And you can bet your sweet ass I’m going to take those seriously. I love you so much. To my wife!”

“To Rebecca!” Everyone cheers, raising their glasses. You force a smile, watching them kiss before Rebecca starts speaking, her brown hair falls in front of her face as she reads and Juliet moves it for her gingerly. 

You don’t think you’ve ever longed for anything more. The softness and tenderness they have for each other has been there since they met. Its something that just comes natural to them. They love each other and everyone can see it, out of your school year, they’re the couple thats been together the longest. 

You and Sweet Pea used to be like that. Nauseously cute to be around but actually the secret envy of all your other friends, single or not.  Before this you used to be a romantic, the world was pink and red and full of hearts and joy. Now though, its just grey and sad.

Maybe you’ve always been cynical? Maybe Sweet Pea just helped you see the good in the world and now that he’s gone the effects have worn off. Like he numbed all the pain. 

When you look at her, she’s so happy. A smile lights up her whole face and you wonder if thats how you used to look at him. A shaky breath escapes your lips as you down the rest of your drink. 

“You okay?” Toni asks and you force a smile. 

“Yeah.” You lie. “Just fine.” 

----

The day has worn on and eventually fallen into night. You would have wanted to be home by now, but even if you had managed to escape, you wouldn’t have been able to sleep. 

Sleep is rare now. It seems that if you sleep next to the same person every night for 3+ years, when they’re not there, its almost impossible. You wonder if he’s struggling to sleep too, if he’s finding an empty bed as tragic of you are. 

Moonlight streams in through the delicate curtains and basks the room in a soft glow when it catches off the glittering decorations. 

The speeches have been made, the cakes been cut and the couple have had their first dance, and through each of them you never saw their smiles falter. Not even just a little. 

It seems you’ve become invisible. Fangs, Toni, Cheryl and Jake have long left you. Choosing to spend their time dancing and taking photos rather than sitting by you. You don’t blame them, you wouldn’t want to sit with your miserable friend at a wedding. You’d want to have fun and to celebrate. 

They come over every so often to see if you’re okay, and you always say yes, no matter what. But as soon as they turn, your facade falls and you go back to longingly watching him. 

You know for a fact you’re going to look miserable in the background of all the candid shots you’re in. Sweet Pea used to say that you looked beautiful no matter what, whether you were happy or sad or angry and annoyed. It was usually the latter when you would catch him taking photos of you, but a smile would always break through the frown making him grin and take even more. 

You watch as he twirls her around, she spins and laughs before falling back into his arms and you feel yourself falling even further. There’s no words to describe how you feel, it just hurts. You’ve never felt like this before and you never ever want to again. You look around, desperate for someone to talk to, anyone to take your mind off the depressing situation you’re in, but there’s no one there. It feels like there hasn’t been for a while. 

She laughs loudly, doubling over while she watches him do a ridiculously stupid dance. He’s grinning, his eyes bright as he continues, the dance becoming more dramatic as he watches her giggle. Your friends surround them, all four of them laughing and you pull your eyes away. No longer wanting to watch a memory that could have been yours. 

Its only when you look down, your finger tracing the delicate pattern on the table cover do you realize that you’re crying. A single tear splashes on the white cloth, followed by another, and then another until you’re silently sobbing. 

You wipe your tears, grab your bag and make a bee-line for the door into the hallway. You can’t escape quick enough from him, and her and everything. 

Three months ago you could only escape with him. 

----

“I thought I’d find you in here.” You pull your gaze away from the window and the stars, instead settling on the tall serpent leaning against the doorframe. Its the first proper interaction you’ve had with each other in months and you don’t know how to act. 

Talking to him used to be the easiest thing in the world. You could talk for hours about practically everything and you’d still have more to talk about when you’re finished. 

But now when you look at him, you just want to cry. You freeze, your throat closing as you watch him stand. He’s looking around the large room, a slight look of awe on his face, and to be honest, your expression mirrored his when you first walked in. 

The decor is much different to the one that the reception is being held in. This is more grand. Its gold accents make it feel a lot fancier. In another world you can imagine great parties being held here, with people in masks and fancy gowns dancing the night away. A large chandelier hangs in the middle of the dance floor and when you stand underneath it, it makes you feel inferior. Its a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to though, its settled in your chest, something you carry around with you. That and a whole party bag full others, its not the main one, but its definitely there. 

Sweet Pea makes his way across the room, pausing briefly under the chandelier and he looks far from inferior. If anything, its the other way round. To you, the chandelier doesn’t look worthy enough to shine above him. He looks at it the same way he looks at all things beautiful, like its a gift to the world and he’s the luckiest person to be able to see it. People used to say he looked at you like that, now you just see him look at everything that isn’t you. 

You wonder if he feels the same about you, if he wants to cry every time he even thinks about you and him together, but the way he’s stood, the way he’s now looking at you, it seems like you’re the last thing on his mind.

What you would say when you saw him again has been the first thing you think of when you wake up, and the last thing you think of before you eventually fall asleep. Its played on your mind in great detail, even down to what you would be wearing. Where you would be? What you would say? What would happen afterwards? But just forcing yourself to look at him, something you never had a problem with before, is now one of the most difficult things in the world. 

His top button is undone and his bowtie has been loosened, you assume by his girlfriend, the thought of which makes your heart clench. His jacket hangs lazily from his hand while the other one runs through his hair. 

“I needed to get some air.” You reply simply, deciding to look out the window again. Its easier than looking at him, even if the shadows of the trees and the hills that seem to roll on forever makes you a little uneasy. 

“People usually go outside for air.” He tries to joke, but it falls flat and he sighs, and crosses the rest of the room. He sits beside you, leaving a noticeable gap between the two of you. “Who would have thought we would be here?” 

“Juliet and Rebecca have been destined to marry since the moment they met.” You reply, not bothering to look at him. Your heart wants you to, it wants you look at him because ignoring him feels like a crime. But your head is keeping you from it, it doesn’t want to break your heart even more, and it definitely doesn’t want you to cry in front of him. The only thing worse than heartbreak is his pity. 

“No, I mean like, here, but not together.” He corrects and you take a quick glance at him. 

“Oh...I dunno.” You shrug, trying to study his face. Closer up he still looks as attractive, but there’s something else to him as well. His eyes aren’t as bright, his lips aren’t as full, he looks a little paler. He looks kind of sad, like he’s painted a facade over it and as the night has worn on, its started to crack. 

The two of you stay silent. You watch him through the large mirror on the opposite wall as he counts the golden swirls painted above your heads. You remember a time when you were together, people wouldn’t be able to get a word in when the two of you were talking.

“A few years ago if me and Fangs had come in here, we’d be leaving with half the decorations and then be going halves on like, a million new bikes.” He tries to joke again, feeling hopeful that it might go better now that some time has passed. But what feels like twenty minutes has in reality only been two and it makes him huff. 

The front he’s put on finally falling as he slumps in his seat. His back leans against the window and he shivers a little from the cold air. 

“What happened to us Y/n?” 

“I suppose I let my guard down.” You shrug, letting yourself look at him properly. Yep, he’s just as broken as you are. You thought it would make you feel better, to see him just as upset as you are. But it doesn’t. It makes you feel worse. But the worst thing about it is that you still take it all away from him if you could. “I guess, I thought things were alright between us when clearly they weren’t. And then you pulled the rug and now...this.” You gesture between the two of you and he looks at the shiny floor. 

You turn to stare out of the window again. Your eyes close tightly as you take a deep breath. The sight of him feels like a stab in your chest, like someone has stuck a knife in and then twisted it.

You imagine yourself falling into his arms, his holding you gently, tracing patterns on your skin while pressing soft kisses to your forehead. A sad smile flickers on your face, it feels so close, so real. Safe in his arms...Until. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” You reply, your eyes opening, but you don’t look at him.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Its okay.” You lie. “I understand.” you don’t

“And I’m sorry I brought Riley with me.” 

“Its fine.” You eventually force a smile, not wanting to seem any more bitter than you probably already do. “You guys look cute together.” 

“Yeah.” He laughs awkwardly. “Thanks.” 

Its silent again, something settling over the room. Its a feeling that makes it difficult for you both to breathe. You look in opposite directions, both waiting for the other to make the first move so you can leave. Whatever heartbreak you were feeling before, is 1000 times worse now. If you were drowning before, now you’re long dead and washed up on the beach somewhere. 

“How did you find me?” You ask and he looks at you surprised. He knew that whatever conversation he would have with you would be one sided, and so he wasn’t expecting you to ask him any questions. Not ones that weren’t hate fueled that is.

He also doesn’t know how to answer. Because the answer is weighted, and he’s not entirely sure he’s figured out the meaning of it yet. 

He sighs and scoots a little closer to you, he looks at you before looking back at the floor while his hand reaches into his trouser pockets. After a few seconds he pulls out a polaroid and hands it to you. 

Your eyebrows furrow when you recognize the person in it as you. Its a little fuzzy due to the lights, but its definitely you. You’re sat alone at the table, your chin resting on your hand as you look to the side of you. You look sad and you frown when you realize that is how you’ve looked for the majority of the wedding. But you’re frown deepens when you wonder what the hell he’s doing with this. He seems to pick up on this and quickly starts explaining himself. 

“I borrowed Toni’s camera when she wasn’t looking, Riley had gone to the bar and so I was by the dance floor alone. I was looking around and saw you and well, you looked like that. I’ve always thought you looked pretty no matter what, but I dunno, there was just something about how sad you looked at such a happy event that made me want to capture it. I was just going to slip it into Toni’s bag when she wasn’t looking and hope she would just think she took it, but well I haven’t had the chance yet.” 

Your speechless for a few seconds, your fingers glide over the photo and a few tears slip down your face, dropping onto the picture but you quickly wipe them away and hand it back to him. 

“That doesn’t explain how you found me. This place is pretty big.” 

“Afterwards I kept checking to see if you were still there. I kind of got a bit distracted by dancing but when I looked again you weren’t there so I came looking for you.” He admits shyly. 

“I didn’t think anyone would notice if I left.” 

“I always notice when you’re not around. Now more than ever I think.” It turns out that breaking up with you was the worst thing Sweet Pea has ever done, closely followed by asking you to move out. And it seems that bad decisions have been following him around for the whole 3 months. 

Your speechless again as you look at him. His eyes catch yours and you feel yourself become breathless. The room feels so much smaller all of a sudden, you and Sweet Pea seem to be closer than ever. His eyes flicker to your lips for just a split second but you notice it and it makes your heart-rate increase. 

Your whole body is screaming at you not to do this, its only going to hurt more, but when his hand cups your cheek and you lean into him you couldn’t care less. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his lips against yours. It still feels like you’re drowning, but in a good way this time. You never want this to stop. 

Thats the thing about moments and feelings. They never know how to coordinate themselves. The things you don’t want, seem to last forever, and the ones you do are over in mere seconds. 

He pulls away first, his eyes wide as he curses to himself. 

“I’m sorry Y/n.” He shakes his head. The soft smile that had taken over your features, vanishes when you notice the way he’s looking at you. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done any of that.” He’s talking to himself now, repeating the words over and over again and its only now that you become angry. 

“Actually.” You stand up. “Maybe you should have. Because apparently breaking my heart once wasn’t enough, you had to do it again. You broke up with me because of a few arguments. I can’t even remember what we were arguing about but you thought it was bad enough to finish a 6 year relationship. I loved you Sweet Pea, and stupidly, I still do. I have been waiting for you to come back and say you’re sorry. I’ve been waiting to take you back. But you got with somebody else.” You sob. “You found somebody else in three months after 6 years and you brought her with you. You’ve ruined every single memory of us, and now you’re ruining every thing else. You got the happy memories, the house, the friends and now the new woman. And what do I have?...what do I have?” 

“Y/n.” He stands, reaching out to you but you shrug him off. Its the hardest thing you have ever done, but you walk away from him. You leave him standing underneath the chandelier, and it no longer seems as bright. 

You glance back at him, just for one last look before you leave properly. 

“I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved...and now I have nothing.” 

[bittywitches]

Ask: 6. Accidentally stepping on their heel in a crowded room. w gray ? 🤍

Oops forgot to post a lot of these 😅 (also I just realized this said heel but I didn’t do that exactly I’m sorry)

6. Accidentally stepping on their heel in a crowded room 

(for reference lol)

You honestly didn’t expect to find yourself in this situation, especially on your mother’s wedding day. This was supposed to be the best day of her life, she’d spent months planning this day for hours on end. She wanted it to be completely perfect, and you did all that you could to ensure that it would be. And you loved your Mom’s fiancée, she was literally the sweetest woman you’d ever met (aside from your momma). You already knew her pretty well, but in the weeks leading up to the wedding, you guys became even closer. She literally felt like one of your closest friends (even though she was a few decades older than you). So when the day finally arrived and you found out that you basically had no role to play in it? It hurt a bit.

You were already a bit furious with the fact that your sister was the one who got to be the maid of honour. Sure she was a lot older, and could probably handle the role a lot better, but it didn’t make you any less bitter. And even though you were still a bridesmaid, you were practically locked out of her dressing room for most of the night. And since you guys had gotten to the venue earlier than the wedding was scheduled, you just spent your time moping around the almost finished wedding hall.

It was only about an hour later did you have your phone ringing, a call from your sister. You sighed, picking the phone up reluctantly.

“Finally remembered that I exist?”

“Don’t be an ass. We need you to run an errand.”

“Of course. I knew my own family wouldn’t think of me unless they needed me for something.”

“Would you stop being petty for one second? There’s been an issue with the bouquets. Apparently, nobody remembered to go pick them up.”

“What? Isn’t the wedding supposed to start in-“ your phone away from your ear to look at the time. “Fifteen minutes?”

“Yea, that’s why I need you to GO.”

“Weren’t the bouquets supposed to be your responsibility?”

“Will you please just go get it?”

“What do I get out of this?”

“The satisfaction of giving mom the wedding of her dreams?”

“Mmmmm….”

She sighed over the phone. “I’ll pay you.”

“How much?”

“Twenty dollars.”

“What, do you think I’m twelve? No deal.”

“Dude-”

“Do you want my help?”

“Ugh, fine. Thirty.”

“Fifty or you’re on your own.”

“What? I’m not paying you fifty dollars just to-”

“Alright, good luck with-”

“God, FINE! Fifty!”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“Fuck you. I’ll text you the address.”

Seconds later your phone vibrated in your hand, the location of the florist popping up in your notifications. You stuffed your phone into your purse and headed for the coatroom.

As you approached the door, you were confronted with  a few dozen faces pouring in through the front doors and drifting into the coatroom, in quite a disorganized fashion. You groaned. You guys were really cutting this close.

You pushed your way through the hectic sea of guests, making it through the coatroom door with a bit of ease, but after that, it was literally as if you were drowning in hairspray and cologne.

“How does my mom know so many people?” You grumbled, throwing out an ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ every half a second, but eventually just trying to push your way through the group of people.

Your eyes landed on your coat, so you began treading towards it, but just before you could grab it, the heel of your pump dug into something that most definitely was not the hardwood floor, causing your ankle to jerk sideways and you stumbled over.

“Woah,” Your shoulder jabbed into the side of a lavender dress shirt, and you definitely would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the large hands that came up to catch you. You looked up to see who the voice was, and saw the face of a handsome young man staring back down at you.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry.” You fumbled, trying to stand up straight but another elderly woman rammed into your backside as she headed for the door, shoving your right back into the man’s arms.

“At least try to look where you’re going?” You yelled after her, but she only gave you a dirty look before leaving.

You sighed, looking away from her to see that you were still clutching onto the man’s shoulders, his black polyester slipping in your fingertips.

“God, hold on-” You leaned up and behind the man to reach up and grab your coat, your chest flushed against his when you did so, and his arms naturally came to rest on your lower back.

You leaned away, holding your coat in one hand and then grabbing his wrist with the other, yanking him to get him to follow you. You pulled him out of the coatroom, gasping when you finally got to breathe something that didn’t smell like fancy fabric softener.

“Felt like I was gonna drown in there,” You turned around to look at the man with you, colour returning to your face when you noticed his disheveled look.

“God, I’m really sorry,” you walked up to him and adjusted his blazer, straightening out the collar.

“It’s no big deal, really.” He placed his hands on your shoulders to get you to stop.

“No, you look so nice and I just,” You looked down at his black leather dress shoes to see the left one was creased right at the tip, a large cut where your heel had stepped on him.

“Oh my god, no!” You bent down at his feet, wiping at the top to see if it was just a smudge or not, and you blew air out of your nose in annoyance when you confirmed that the cut was there.

“Hey, it’s seriously not a problem.” He bent down to grab you by the shoulders and pull you back up.

“No, I ruined your shoes, and they look really expensive-”

“It’s fine, I promise.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry.” You got up on your toes to fix his ruffle hair, a result of the pandemonium that had occurred within the coat room. “You’d think a place like this would have a bigger place to leave your coats.”

He laughed, and you smiled when he did. You noticed a gem on his canine tooth when he chuckled, almost looking similar to the two shiny studs in his ears. His hand came up to rub his stubble, trailing up his chin. You were right. He looked really nice.

He looked back at you, an eyebrow quirked. “You’re one of the bridesmaids, right? I saw a few girls wearing that dress outside when I came in. Seemed like they were in a rush.”

You sighed. “Yeah, apparently things aren’t going as smoothly as we’d hoped.” You tilted your head. “Well, as smoothly as they’d hoped.”

He scrunched his nose at you in confusion.

You stuck your hand out. “I’m Y/N. Daughter of the bride. Er, well, the bride that proposed.”

He laughed when you said that, and took your hand, giving it a firm shake. “Grayson.”

“My sister is the maid of honour.”

“Oh.... ouch.”

“Yea, pretty much sucks ass. She’s practically planned the whole thing without any of my help. Except now, because things are going off the rails, I’m the one who has to save everyone’s ass.” You blinked. “Speaking of, I should head to the florist’s. Bouquet mishap and whatnot.”

“Oh, okay.” He said, a bit disappointed. “Maybe I’ll see you la-”

“Wait!” You grabbed his arm, startling him a bit. “There’s a small formal wear store that’s literally in the same plaza as the florist! I can make up for ruining your shoes.”

His eyebrows raised. “Y/N, it really isn’t necessary-”

“Nonsense! I’m not going to let my mother have guests wearing improper attire to her own wedding.” You winked at him.

He chuckled. “Alright, we better leave quickly then. The wedding’s gonna start soon.” He held out his arm for you, his elbow jutting out to the side.

“My, what a gentleman.” You smiled, hooking your arm around his and gripping his bicep as you led him out to your car.

・ ・ ・

“So, how do you know Lindsey?” You said as you hopped out of your car, locking it behind you as Grayson followed suit. “I’m assuming you're a guest from her side.”

“Yea. My dad used to work with her, and they were pretty close. Recently drifted apart, but he was very excited to be invited to the wedding. She also used to babysit me.” He held the door to the florist open for you, and you walked inside.

“Hah, I bet you were a cute kid.”

“You think so?” He asked, the door jingling as it fell closed behind him.

“Well I can’t imagine that anyone could be ugly as a kid and then grow up to look like-” You looked over your shoulder at him to see him chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes resting gently on yours.

“What I mean is,” you fumbled, pulling the straps of your dress higher up your shoulder. “Nobody could have that big of a glow up.” You gave him a small smile, turning back to the counter to hide your gradually growing pink face.

“Well, thanks.” You heard his feet pacing behind you, snaking through the rows of beautiful flowers. It was pretty late, so nobody else was in the store except you two and the Clerk.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order. Should be under ‘Lindsey and Nia’.”

“Ah, yes. One moment.” The clerk disappeared through a door, and you laid your elbows onto the counter, your face resting on one hand while the other tapped your fingers on the cool marble.

“Hey,” You felt a tap on your shoulder, and you looked around to see Grayson gently holding a beautiful pink peony right in front of your nose.

You breathed in, taking in the wonderful scent, opening your eyes and looking up to meet Grayson’s soft ones.

“It matches your dress,” He said simply, but his sweet tone somehow made it feel like he was serenading you with a love song.

“It does.”

“Kinda looks like you,” He said, gesturing towards your low bun, tiny white flowers peeking out of it. He handed the flower to you, and you took it, holding it gently in your fingertips.

“It’s beautiful.”

“That’s what I said.” Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, a small but playful simper on his lips.

“I-”

“Here you are, miss.” You suddenly turned away from Grayson to look at the vendor, your eyes landed on the two pink plumeria bouquets.

“Oh, they’re gorgeous, thank you.” You took them from him, closing your eyes to inhale their scent.

“Do you plan on buying that, miss?” You looked at where he was pointing, and saw he was talking about the peony in your hand.

“Oh, no, I was just-”

“Actually, no. But I was.” Grayson stepped up to the counter, taking his wallet out of his pocket. You stepped back to give him some room, looking at him with a bit of wonder in your eyes.

“Five dollars.”

“For ONE flower-” You interjected, but Grayson rested his hand on your arm, and for some reason it silenced you.

Grayson handed the man a five-dollar bill. The vendor asked if he wanted a bag, and Grayson refused, wishing the man a good night after the exchange. He turned to you, handing you the flower then heading for the door.

“You coming?”

It felt like you’d been watching this happen from somewhere out of your body, and had to blink to get yourself to return to Earth. “Yea, coming.”

・ ・ ・

“Y/N, we seriously don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, we do. I owe you for two things now.”

“The shoes were an accident, and the flower was barely anything, you don’t-”

“Just shut up and choose a pair of shoes.” You demanded, and he put his arms up in defeat, walking back up towards the display of shoes on the wall. You sat down on one of the stools, absent-mindedly smelling the beautiful pink flower that Grayson had gifted you.

“These look pretty good, don’t you think?” He gestured towards a pair that had two different shades of brown on it.

“You’re kidding right? Do you think my mom’s wedding theme is ‘the wild west’?”

“Jeez, it was just a suggestion.” He said with an exaggerated tone, and you giggled.

“How about these?” You walked up and picked up a jet black pair, almost resembling the ones he was wearing except for the seams lining the sides.

“They’re basically the same as these.” He wiggled one foot in the air.

“Yea, but these don’t have a cut in them.”

He chuckled, picking up the box that had those shoes, then taking them out to try them on. They fit perfectly.

“Dang, these are nice.” He sat down to slip them off and place them back in the box, but his eyes bulged when he saw the price tag. “No way, these are way too expensive.”

“Lemme see.” You read the label, and you had to chew the inside of your cheek to prevent you from making any sort of remark. “It’s not that bad.”

“Are you serious?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m paying for it.”

“That’s exactly why it does matter-”

“Grayson come on, I don’t have the time for this!” You took your phone out of your purse to check the time, and instead saw a stream of texts from your sister asking where you were. “I was supposed to be back like ten minutes ago. Just pick a pair of shoes!”

“But I can’t let you buy these! It’s too much!”

“You bought me something too.”

“It was a flower! For five dollars!”

“Okay, time’s up, we’re choosing these ones.” You grabbed them back from him, running for the front of the store as you heard Grayson call behind you.

“Y/N-”

You slammed the shoes down on the counter, startling the cashier. “Is this all, ma’am?”

“Yep.” Grayson stumbled up behind you, slipping on his creased shoe and sighing as the cashier scanned the box.

“At least let me pay for it.”

“What? No! Then I’d still owe you!”

“You don’t owe me anything-”

“Jesus, you’re more annoying than my mom and Lindsey bickering over what centerpiece they want.”

At that he finally dropped it, laughing. “Lindsey is pretty picky about her flowers.”

“Yeah.” You inserted your credit card and put in the pin. “I was surprised they were even able to make a decision on the bouquets. I was so sure they were going to choose different flowers.” You sighed, looking at him. “But Lindsey knew mom would die for these, and that was all she needed to know to make her decision.”

“Guess they really love each other, huh?” Grayson mused as you took your credit card back. The cashier handed you the bag with the shoes as well as a receipt, and you thanked her before walking out with him.

“Yea. They really do.” You remarked, looking down at the single peony still in your hand.

“Hey, your car is that way.” He grabbed your arm, then took the bouquets from you as you laughed at your disorientation.

“Right.”

・ ・ ・

After rushing to the dressing room to find half the exasperated bridesmaids as well as a finally stress-relieved sister, your mother gave you a huge sloppy kiss on the cheek that you squirmed away from, but you were happy all the same that she was able to get her bouquets. One of the other bridesmaids rushed off to give the second bouquet to Lindsey.

Of course you were pushed out a few minutes later, but this time you weren’t as upset. Your mind was lingering on other things… so when your sister pushed you out the door, you were quick to snatch the pink peony that you’d left lying on the dresser.

・ ・ ・

Ceremony over, bouquets thrown, tears wept and first dance completed; After it was all over, you found yourself hovering near the back of the hall, watching as your Mom and Step-mom danced the night away, carefree as ever with the biggest smiles on their faces. You sighed, happy at how this night had turned out. It was perfect, it was gorgeous, it really was everything you’d all dreamed of and more. The love of the two oozed out of their very pores, filling the room with a bubbly feeling that you quite easily caught on to you. You found yourself with eyes roaming the room, looking for a certain someone with a lavender dress shirt, but your shoulders slumped when you couldn’t find it through the haze of pink lights dancing across the room. You looked down, and took another whiff of the flower you still held in your hands, not daring to let go of it after your bridesmaid duties had been accomplished. You looked up again, hoping to find the disheveled hair and shiny studs.

“Looking for me?” A voice caught you from behind, and you looked behind you to see Grayson, his arms casually held behind his back, but a small smirk played on his lips when he noticed the flower in your hands. “Still have that?”

You bit your lip, slowly shifting your way over to him amidst the music and laughter. “It’s too pretty to get rid of.” You looked down to see he’d changed into the new shoes you’d bought him, and it brought a smile to your lips. “They look good.”

“They’re great. You have great taste.” You met his eyes, them dark and wonderful as they glazed over you. “I really wish you didn’t pay for them though.”

“I’m happy I did.”

“But now I owe you.” His fingertips met yours as he took the delicate flower from you, bringing it up to his face to smell it, smiling at the fact that it still had that wonderful scent.

“Maybe you can make it up to me…” Your hands came up to his, your fingers first tracing the petals of the flower, then down the stem, then dragging across his large hands.

He wrinkled an eyebrow. “How so?”

You gestured towards the dance floor, that now had many bodies moving to the music on it.

He smiled, taking a step back from you just so he could lean forward with one hand behind his back, the other holding the peony out for you. “May I have this dance?”

You grinned, taking the flower from him, but letting your fingers linger a little while longer this time. “Of course.”

He chuckled, holding his elbow out for you once more, and you gripped it, leading him towards the dance floor.

[itrytowrite-things]

Niall’s ring

Niall Horan x reader 

Summary: It’s Y/N’s wedding day but she might be holding on to a piece of the past. 

A/N: Hey guy I just want to clarify the jargon, Y/N= your name, Y/BFF/N= your best friends name, Y/F/N= your friends name, Y/OF/N= your other friends name, Y/M/N= your mom’s name. 

The dressing room was filled with the laughter and chatter of bridesmaids as they circled around the bride. Y/N was wearing a beautiful white dress that covered the floor around her, her hair half up with the rest in loose curls framing her face. She felt beautiful with all her closest friends surrounding her gawking at her appearance in the vanity mirror. She absently mindly rotated the engagement ring around her finger. It still felt weird even though Derek gave it to her a year ago. Everyone's attention was now on the ring. 

“I still can’t believe the rock on that ring,” Y/F/N said, taking Y/N’s hand in her own. They all laughed, the ring was truly amazing. It was at least three carrots and noticeable from four feet away. It was breathtaking to another female in a twelve mile radius but Y/N had never been one for diamonds. 

“I have been meaning to ask what that ring is from?” Y/OF/N asked, pointing at the ring on the opposite hands ring finger. It was a simple ring with a metal square on top, a five petaled flower burned into the center of the square. “I don’t think I have ever seen you take it off within the four years that I have known you”. Y/N’s face slowly started to turn crimson at the comment. 

“A friend gave it to me a long time ago” Y/BFF/N let out a loud scoff turning everyone's attention to her. 

“It’s a ring that Niall gave her ten years ago” everyone’s face twisted into one of shock. They have all heard of Niall Horan it’s hard not to when he is ridiculously famous and ex best friend of one of your friends. They were also Y/N’s closest friends so they knew that best friends was not the best term to use for their previous relationship. 

“Y/N, maybe you should take it off,” Y/F/N said. The words took awhile to register in her head, She hadn’t taken the ring off except for a shower in ten years but it made sense. She shouldn’t wear Niall’s ring while she walks down the aisle. She slid the ring off her finger with slight resistance. All of the girls cheering as she placed the ring on the vanity. 

“Girls, the groomsmen need to practice walking one more time before the real deal” Y/M/N said poking her head into the room. A loud groan was shared between all the girls as they left.   

She holds the ring between her thumb and forefinger fiddling it between the two fingers. Her gaze remaining on the small flower burned into the metal. Tears were starting to brim in the corners of both eyes blurring her vision of the ring. The door’s hinges made a creaking sounds as an outsider stepped into the room. Only her mother and the bridesmaids were allowed in this part of the house, she knew it could only be Y/BFF/N.

“ I always thought he would give me a wedding ring to go along with it” the tears began flowing down her cheeks landing softly on the wooden vanity. 

“ I would have got you one, petal” that was the last voice she was expecting to hear, she spun her body around at lighting speed, the ring slipping from her grip landing on the carpeted floor softly.  

“I- I, You’re not supposed to be up here, Niall” She truly didn’t know what to say, he obviously wasn’t supposed to hear her confession. 

“I just wanted to see you before you walk down the aisle,” the awkward silence grew by the minute, Niall began rocking heel to toe still standing in the doorway. He made the decision to leave, turning his back to her. Y/N finally felt the courage to speak, 

“I would have said yes” her words were a mere whisper in the wind. Every syllable hit Niall’s heart like a bomb exploding a different piece each time until it was nothing but ash and memories of the chances he never took. She would have said yes and he was the idiot that toured the world and never thought to ask expecting her to stay here in this small town until his life slowed down.  

Bending down she swooped the ring off the floor, sliding it over the first centimetre of her index finger before realizing the action, the anger settling in her chest as his words rang in her ears. She ripped the ring off her finger violently, throwing it against the farthest wall. The tiny dink of the metal against wood did nothing to satisfy her anger. 

“I just saw Niall, he looked like he wanted to throw himself down the stairs, serves him ri-” Y/BFF/N sentence died at the sight of her best friend. She all but ran to Y/N her arm wrapping around her friend's frame. 

“Oh sweetheart what happened?” Y/BFF/N started rocking both of them back and forth trying to soothe the woman like she was a small child. The two friends stayed like that for a while Y/N’s cries filling the small dressing room. 

“I am scared I will always love him more than anyone else” Y/N's words came out breathy, she was holding back another wave of tears. She had already cried way too much for a bride on her wedding day. “I love Derek, I really do. I love his smile and I love being around him and his jokes. I love his hair and how he sings stupid songs in the shower. I-”

“Y/N” Y/BFF/N said stepping in to cut off the woman's rambles “You don’t have to prove that you love him to me” They both knew that Y/BFF/N wasn’t the person she was trying to prove anything too. 

“But, what if that’s not enough. What if I can never love him with everything in me because part of me will always be stuck in 2010 when he gave me that stupid ring and told me he loved me. I wanted to marry him so bad that I held on to the dumbass ring for ten years hoping that one day he would propose to me and I would be able to say this is the first ring your dad ever gave me to our kids” spit was flying from her mouth splattering against the mirror. The lump bobbing in her throat creating a choking sensation. 

“Hey, woah calm down. Breath.” she began rubbing a small circle in her back, Y/BFF/N had honestly been waiting for this occurrence. She had warned Y/N multiple times that inviting Niall to the wedding was a bad idea. 

A faint knock startled both girls, untangling their arms from each other both girls were surprised to see Niall back at the door. His hands were clasped in front of him. Y/N couldn’t help but think that he looked incredibly small in that moment, like the boy he was when he had given her that ring long ago. 

“Can I have a moment?” The question was directed at Y/BFF/N, she was glaring holes into his skin hoping that he would die. Her gazing moving towards Y/N looking for any sign of discomfort when she showed none. Y/BFF/N slowly made her way out the room, closing the door as she made her final descent. 

“I just want to say, m’sorry. It’s your wedding day and I want you to be happy s’all” he was still standing nervously by the door not wanting to overstep his bounds. She let out a huge sigh. 

“I love you Niall, I have always loved you and will always love you till the day I die. The day you left for x-factor broke my heart and you gave me that ring and I kept it on for ten year Ni, TEN YEARS! Through three boyfriends and an engagement I kept that dumb ass flower promise ring on hoping that you would come back to me and you never did” Niall opened his mouth trying to think of something to say “No, and I never hated you for it. I wanted nothing but success for you because out of everyone in this world you deserved it. I just wished you had stopped to come back for me.” Her breaths came out ragged and sharp. Her heart was laying on the floor and she couldn’t decide if that was a good decision. He would either stomp on it again or pick it up and both frightened her. Niall’s feet were pulling him closer to the girl he had broken. His arms wrapping around her waist before he could think too hard about it. 

“ I am so sorry, love. I waited too long and I will never forgive myself for that. But I would just ruin your life, petal. My career is not stopping and you deserve someone like Derek that can be there every day and be there for you and your kids one day and be a happy family. I want that so bad, only ever wanted that with you, but I can’t give you that to you, sweetheart” Her body moving into his, needing to feel his chest against her cheek. There was nothing left to say between the two. 

Y/N wiped her face pulling back to look at Niall in the eyes for the first time. Fresh tears were still leaking out of his crystal blue eyes. Her thumb moved to wipe his tear stained cheeks, It was like caring for him and was wired into her system.

“I forgive you” she wasn’t sure those were the right words to say, but Niall let out a sigh of relief regardless making her feel better about her choices. Their foreheads moving together until they bumped. Niall's hand moving up to cup Y/N’s Jaw. The kiss was short one second Niall’s lips were pressed firmly against her and the next they were gone. 

“I will always love you, petal. Never forget that” He swiftly moved out of the door. Y/N stood rooted in her stop listening to his footsteps get farther away. 

“Okay” she said aloud to the empty room smoothing down the wrinkles in her dress. “Time to get married”

[let-me-write-shit]

Like We Used To: 3

A/N: Hey guys! I’m glad some of you are enjoying my story so far! I love the feedback and messages. Please don’t hesitate to message me. Suggestions, comments, or even theories. Happy reading!

[ONE]  [TWO]

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CHAPTER THREE

The girls had stayed behind at the wedding venue to gather the gifts, decor pieces, and a few leftover disposable cameras while the guys made their way over to the rental manor after Kate and Lewis. It was a long few months of wedding planning, so being able to relax with each other was much appreciated. Elizabeth and Daisy took a lot of silly pictures on the disposable camera in the limo ride to the manor and Heather had made a verbal reminder to herself that she needed to get the film developed after the weekend ended.

It wasn’t long before the limo was pulling down the long, tree-lit drive of the beautifully restored manor. The girls spilled out of the limo, smiling up at the building in awe before grabbing their things and heading to the entrance. As soon as the doors opened up, you could hear the boys’ booming voices making fun of each other over music playing in the background.

“Girls are here!” Owen called out, coming up to them and helping with some of the bags, followed by the rest of them.

“Oh, thank god!” Kate squeezed through the boys, giving each of the girls a little hug.

It looked like Kate, Lewis, Jimmy, and Owen had managed to get a shower in while Matt and Edward just took their ties off, loosened the buttons on their shirt collars, and untucked their shirts from their pants. 

“Now you girls can head on up to the first and second floors. Any room with a door open is available, so bring your things up with you. And every room has a shower. We’ll be down here getting some drinks ready for you!” Kate continued

“Is Harry here yet?” Daisy asked, excitedly.

“No, not yet,” Kate smiled at her before eyeing Elizabeth hesitantly.

Elizabeth nodded as if to say ‘it’s okay’ before heading to the stairs with the rest of the girls. There were two bedrooms left on the first floor with Kate, Lewis, Owen, and Jimmy, so Heather and Elizabeth decided to take them. Up on the second floor the bedrooms belonged to Edward, Matt, Celeste, Daisy, and eventually Harry when he got there. 

Elizabeth’s room was quite spacious. It definitely had a victorian quality about it, but was modernized with a marble walk-in shower. She dropped her bags on the Queen sized bed  and made her way to the bathroom, liking the idea of a hot shower. She turned on the shower head and examined herself in the mirror while the water heated up. Her wavy hair had lost its bounce and her makeup was starting to separate due to the sweat which made her look tired. Elizabeth supposed that was a good thing, as it was a sign of a good day. But she felt wide awake, excited to celebrate some more with her friends. She ran her fingers at the neckline of her silk dress, almost sad to take it off. She did love the way she looked in it, and if she was honest, was glad that this was how Harry saw her after nine years.

The steam of the hot water running down her body relaxed her and gave her a moment of clarity. Harry was back. She knew she had mixed emotions about that fact, but he was here and everyone else seemed to be happy about it, nevertheless. Elizabeth decided that she was going to be okay with it. She still wanted to keep a healthy amount of distance from him. I mean, the first time he left was hard enough, she definitely didn’t want to let her guard down. But, she resolved that wasn’t going to let some dumb ass insecurities ruin her weekend.

Elizabeth towel dried her hair as much as she could, slipped into her light peach tie dyed lounge set, and rubbed her sore feet before pulling on some socks and grabbing her phone. 10:42 PM. The night was still young. She bounced down the stairs and followed the sound of her friends voices to what seemed like a parlor room filled with two four-seater couches on either side of a fireplace, which Jimmy had apparently managed so start a fire in and was prodding the logs with an iron poker, and two rather large armchairs at the end of the couches. It looked like Heather and Celeste had the same idea as she did, because their hair was damp and they were now fresh-faced. Daisy, however, had just thrown her platinum hair in a perfect messy bun, got into a crop-top sweat set, and kept her makeup on. It didn’t look like Harry had arrived yet. 

“Lizzy!” Matt called over, patting the tiny bit of space next to him on one of the armchairs. There was plenty of room on the two couches, but she squeezed beside him while Kate had disappeared and quickly reappeared with Elizabeth’s go-to drink. A Moscow Mule. Elizabeth whispered a ‘thank you, love’, so as not to disrupt the conversation happening in the room and Kate sat at the end of the couch next to her husband, Owen, and Heather.

“I see JJ started the fire,” Elizabeth noted aloud while the others confirmed with a nod, “So did we all learn from our last camping fail not to let Edward near it,” she sneered with a grin.

“Oi!” Edward shouted from the chair next to her as the friends all laughed and she felt Matt’s arm jerk behind her back to swat at Edward.

“The dumbass almost burnt down our cabin!” Celeste recalled, making them all laugh harder.

The sound of the front door opening and closing followed by footsteps made everyone turn to look at the entrance of the room. Elizabeth had to crank her head back to be able to see and was met with Harry’s gaze.

“Hey!” Harry smiled and waved. He had clearly taken a shower and had changed into a casual long sleeve sleeping shirt and some lounge pants, carrying a small duffel bag. His rings no longer covered his fingers.

“Harry! Glad you made it!” Lewis called, standing up. They patted each others back when they were within range and Lewis said, “Come on, let me show you to your room.”

“You’re across from me!” Daisy called out. Harry turned back and chuckled in response to her before he was out of sight.

“Jesus, Daisy!” Celeste snorted, rolling her eyes while the others laughed and shook their heads.

Once Lewis and Harry joined them back in the room with some more drinks, Harry had taken a seat on the other couch next to Jimmy, Celeste, and Daisy. Immediately the conversations, like always with this group, had gotten a little out of control with laughter to the point of tears. Many pictures were taken on the disposable cameras and even more drinks were made. Eventually Heather and Owen had excused themselves to go to bed and the conversation died down a bit. With Matt’s arms resting on Elizabeth’s legs that had been strewn across his in the chair, he whispered in her ear something about getting more drinks when a small piece of ice was chucked at them and had landed on his arms. 

“If you two are quite finished flirting, then.” Celeste smirked.

“He wishes,” scoffed Edward, which provoked another smack from Matt.

Kate busted into laughter, “Do you remember when they hooked up with each other after college graduation?” Which caused  even more laughter from the bunch with some saying ‘Holy shit, I forgot about that!’

“Wait, what? Really?” Harry straightened up, looking between the two of them with a slightly intrigued and surprised look. Harry had known them since they were fourteen, and back then he probably couldn’t picture that ever happening.

Matt chuckled and joked, patting Elizabeth’s back, “What can I say? I was able to do what every guy in our friend group wanted to do since junior high. I’m a stud.”

“Relax, stud,” Elizabeth blushed, elbowing him in the chest, “It was just a kiss. I’m pretty sure everyone here has kissed each other at least once at some point.”

“Was there some sort of sexual awakening after I left or something?” Harry joked, with nods and laughter from the rest, “Vecause back then it was only Kate and Lewis snogging each other.”

“Remember when Celeste and Edward actually hooked up last year?” Lewis remembered.

“Hell yeah! Broke my two-year dry spell with that!” Edward winked at her.

“And you haven’t had any action since,” Elizabeth quipped, causing an eruption of laughter.

“Alright, alright!” Celeste grinned sheepishly. “We said we would never mention that night again!”

“I bet there will be at least three hookups by the end of the weekend,” Lewis said, assuredly with a nod of agreement from Kate.

Harry looked at them, amused, “Who?”

“Right, should we make bets? Ten bucks each. The one with the most guesses correct by the end of the weekend wins. Ties split.” Jimmy suggested followed by yelps and hoots of acceptance. Harry hesitantly agreed.

“Well, obviously JJ, Heather, Owen, and the bride and groom here are out since they’re in relationships,” Matt thought allowed, “but I reckon that Celeste and Edward will get together after having one too many.” Everyone agreed except for Celeste and Kate.

Then Edward said, “Alright, and I think that Matt and Elizabeth will make out at least once,” to which only Daisy and Celeste agreed.

Kate smiled apprehensively, “Sorry, but I think it’s more likely to be Elizabeth and Harry.”

Elizabeth blushed and her eyes widened, shooting daggers towards Kate as Jimmy, Lewis, and Celeste agreed. She felt Harry’s eyes on her, but she avoided his gaze, unable to look at him. They are out of their minds! What was Kate thinking?

Jimmy spoke up, “And I think Daisy is going to try to get with every available person here. And I mean every available person here.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the girls. A harmonious laughter of agreement emitted from the entire group.

The night continued with more banter. Everyone had agreed upon what to do when they woke up. They had planned on taking the inner tubes out on the manor’s private lake in the morning and having a BBQ. Daisy, after a few drinks and expressing her deep love for everyone there, managed to kiss both Celeste and Edward. “Two down, three to go,” Jimmy sniggered. Slowly the group started to lighten as people were excusing themselves to go to bed. 

Eventually it was only Daisy, Harry, Matt, and Elizabeth left. Daisy was nodding in and out of consciousness, the fire was now burned out, and Elizabeth was still comfortably smushed next to Matt on the chair with her legs draped over his and her head resting on his chest. Even though she had told herself she wasn’t going to ignore Harry, she still felt herself at a loss for what to say to him. She still felt confused. Elizabeth just wound up twiddling her thumbs while him and Matt conversed or giving short replies when Harry tried to talk to her.

Daisy suddenly stood up and mumbled, “I’m going to bed,” before making her way out of the room.

“Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. I think I should head up, too,” Matt yawned, patting Elizabeth’s legs and sliding out from under her to get up, stretching.

Elizabeth caught Harry’s eyes which read a sort of hesitance, almost as if he was waiting on her to say something. She stood up after Matt and said, “Yeah, me too.”

As they made their way up the steps, she felt Harry behind her, obviously deciding he didn’t want to be the only one up. Matt stopped at the top of the landing to give Elizabeth a hug and a friendly peck on the cheek, wishing her a goodnight and bounded the stairs to the next floor where his room was. Elizabeth was almost at her door when she heard a sad, soft, “Goodnight, Lizzy.” But when she turned around, Harry was already halfway up the steps after Matt.

Elizabeth threw herself onto the bed, turning over to click off the light and look out the window. It would have been pitch dark in the room if it weren’t for the light glow of the crescent moon shining through her window. Elizabeth felt like she failed. Everyone else was so happy and comfortable around Harry after so much time. It didn’t make sense why she was the only one that didn’t feel the same. 

Just when she started to slip under the sheets, she heard a soft tapping at her door. “One second,” she called, slipping back out of bed and towards the door. When she opened it she tensed, seeing Harry nervously standing there. “Oh...uh…” she started.

Harry cut her off, “I just didn’t want to go to bed thinking I was crazy. Is it just in my head, or have you been trying to avoid me?” He smiled, anxiously, trying to lighten the tension.

Elizabeth stuttered, shocked at this confrontation, “No, I...Sorry. It’s just…” she paused for a second before straightening up. She wasn’t going to chicken out. If he really wanted to know, she would be honest, “You want the truth? You really want to have a whole-ass heart to heart at 2 AM?”

Harry blinked before nodding his head, his smile starting to fade. A creak was heard from the hallway and they both turned, half expecting someone to be peering out of their room, but they didn’t see anyone. Still, Elizabeth didn’t want anyone listening in, so she stepped to the side and invited him in. He sat at the edge of her bed, hands clasped, and watched her, waiting for her to say something. She stood by the closed door, collecting her thoughts as she had so much she wanted to say, before starting.

“I don’t know, Harry. This is awkward! It shouldn’t be so awkward, but it is! Everyone else seems to be perfectly fine with the fact that you’re here, but I honestly don’t know how to feel. I mean you left me! For nine years I hadn’t heard a word from you. You managed to keep in touch with Lewis and Kate just fine, but why not me?” Elizabeth started pacing the room and started letting it all out. “I mean you were my best friend, for Christ sake. When Kate and Lewis finally got together it was basically you and me every single day! But as soon as you started getting a little bit of attention, you stopped talking to me. I felt crazy. For years I felt like maybe...maybe I just thought we were better friends than we actually were. There’s no way I could have meant that much to you if it was so easy for you to leave the way you did. Then you show up here expecting everything to be all peachy. Everyone else can forgive and forget so easily, Harry. But I’m struggling here.” 

By the time she had finished she had felt a lump in her throat the size of a golf ball and her eyes stung as she tried to hold back her tears. She didn’t mean to get so emotional. But she would not allow herself to cry. She didn’t want to show weakness.

An uneasy silence filled the room. It felt like a lifetime before Harry finally spoke, clearing his voice, “I’m so sorry, Lizzy.” Elizabeth looked over at him and could see his eyes were slightly glassy. And instead of his usual lopsided smile it was turned down into a slight frown. He wiped the inner corner of his eye and continued, “I was trying to think of all the reasons for why I did what I did, but they all seem so….fucking stupid now.” He hit the covers lightly, seeming annoyed with himself. “You’re right. I was being a dumbass. And you were not crazy to be upset. You were my best friend. I know you always had Kate. And obviously our friend group was there. I mean there was Lewis and Celeste and JJ and Matt. But...you were my best friend. You knew more about me than anyone else in that group. I’m…..fuck. There’s no excuse. I’m so sorry!”

Elizabeth stared at him as he spoke. She was expecting excuse upon excuse. Definitely not that. She could hear the frustration in his voice and saw the sadness in his eyes. He meant what he said. Elizabeth softened up, “A lot has changed in nine years, Harry. I know we’ve all been picking up where we left off, but we’re not the same as we were when we were seventeen.”

Harry nodded, “I know. You’re right, and neither am I. So….I’m hoping we can use this weekend to get to know each other again. Or...I can get to know everyone again. We can get ourselves reacquainted. I may not be exactly the same, but I’m not that much different.” He noticed her hesitance before adding, “I promise, Lizzy. I promise I won’t leave like that again.”

Elizabeth let her lips twitch upwards into a small smile. Harry’s eyes softened and his eyebrows raised, searching for some kind of response in her face. He must have seen it, because he smiled his bright white smile and outstretched his hands to her in a mock handshake and said, “Hi. My name is Harry Styles. I used to be your best friend before I ruined that. Nice to meet you, again.”

Elizabeth let out a small laugh and a tear that threatened to leave her eye finally spilled out. She quickly wiped it away and swatted his hand, “No, we’re not doing handshakes.” She said, finally allowing herself to propel into his arms. He tightened his arms around her embrace and let his cheek press onto the top of her head. Although he was bigger than he once was, and older, his hug felt the same. The familiar feeling of warmth, comfort, and safety embodied her. 

They stayed like that for a while before Harry whispered, “You smell good.”

“Don’t make it weird,” Elizabeth snorted into his chest, pausing before she said, “But so do you.”

Harry laughed and they pulled away, smiling at each other. “Ok. I guess I should…”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth nodded, walking him to the door and opening it for him.

He stepped into the hall and turned to face her. With a warm grin he said, “Goodnight, Lizzy.”

“Goodnight.” Elizabeth whispered, and closed the door.

She stood there for a second, letting what just happened sink in before climbing back into bed and under the covers feeling a warmth grow in her chest. She started to feel the wall that she built up to protect herself start to crumble. This was either going to be really good, or really bad.

Keep Reading

[alias-b]

Talk Dirty To Me

~Billy/Camille + Tommy Too

The Smut Extravaganza for Billy and Camille I got requests for. They make the mistake of teasing each other the entire day while they plan for a memorable Halloween. Tommy H just has great timing. Fun Smutty AU for my fic, Without The Lights, combination of smut requests I was sent for Billy and Camille. This got way out of hand and it's just filth. Literally, this is fun garbage filth. Enjoy! 🍒

A/N: Inevitable Threesome. Bi!Billy. Overstimulation. Light roleplay. Drinking/pot use. Gross teens and sexual fantasies come to life. Sorta follow up to the one shot about Tommy’s dirty letter. :))) It’s long, sorry!

~~

   “Billy, come see this one!” The damn sing song.

   A groan erupted. He tried to hide behind a row of latex Halloween masks. Rubber scent filled his nostrils. 

   “Just a few more.” Camille beckoned with a hurried wave. Genuine and excited, he’d be an asshole to mess with that.

   “You said that a million costumes and two stores ago.” Billy came around to see her. Greek goddess. Probably Venus by the tight fit.

   “Well?” Camille spun for him. Little gold pieces wrapped around her caught the light.

   “You look amazing.” Repetition. “So fucking hot.”

   “You say that about them all.” Fists went to her hips. Chest puffing. Red alert.

   “Am I wrong?” He attempted to recover.

   “No, but still. Marie Antoinette. Barbie. Fives different witches. A cat. Bride of Frankenstein. And so on. And you haven’t tried on any.” Lips formed a pout. 

   The look. Boyfriend’s worst nightmare.

   “I go as the same thing every single year. A drunk asshole.” Billy flashed a crooked grin. Scarred brow lifting. Creepy Halloween sounds played over the cheery tune of the Monster Mash. A speaker above the dressing rooms echoed louder.

   “But, Halloween is about being something you’re not, babe.” The quip caused him to laugh, head turning because he waltzed into that one. “You best help me out here because your pretty ass is dressing as the other half of my costume.”

   “Couples costumes? We did not agree to that.” Billy tugged on the curl of a huge synthetic wig, watched it bounce.

   “Girlfriend gets the holidays, it’s the rules.” Camille pulled her curtain over and unzipped herself as he dicked around outside. Itching to go.

   “What do I get in return?” Billy’s casual tone was anything but innocent.

   “Rewarded for making the girlfriend happy on such campy, beloved occasions.” She fussed about, making the curtain jostle. Billy only shook his head with another smile. A compelling argument.

   “So,” he poked his face in, startling her. Camille braced to cover her underwear and instead tossed jeans at him. “I put on a costume, I get laid. We fuck all the time.”

   “Maybe a happy girlfriend will be...a little more giving. A little weirder for your unique tastes.” She pecked his lips and pushed him out. 

   “I do like how that sounds.” Billy hummed to himself. “You know, when I was sick. You made me a promise that...hasn’t been delivered on. Something involving your mouth and a little roleplay.”

   “Uh, how about the events of literally this morning?”

   “Yeah, well, we wanted the entire illusion with it, Doctor Harper.” He explained and she rolled her eyes.

   “Doctor-patient confidentiality. I’m forbidden to speak of it further.” Came the retort.

   Billy groaned to himself outside. Few shoppers eyed him messing with accessories. He stopped to fix his hair in a nearby mirror, flicked a curl aside before Camille peered out to see him tonguing one of his canines.

   “Consider another fairy tale. Red Riding Hood?” Camille braced her hands on either side of the room, hip cocked. Divine. A nearby mother shielded her son’s eyes and ushered him off. Billy was snickering, plucking up a wolf mask with realistic grey fur. He dangled it before her. “C’mon, get into the spirit, beach boy.”

   “Consider the werewolf only eats sweet, sweet pu-” Billy’s vulgar remark was muffled when her hand covered his lips. Bright eyes flickered. He was too much.

   “I loathe you.” Camille only puffed at him, turning. “Uh, I’m not feeling anything and I’m starving. Let’s give up and grab a cheesesteak from the food court.”

   “Extra onions and green peppers. Now, we’re talking.” Billy gave a sigh of relief. Still messing around just outside with masks and fake weapons. Camille heard the curtain swish once her dress was back on the hanger.

   “Billy, I’m not dressed.” She turned to see him in a plastic hockey back. Silent and unblinking. Curls framed his face. “Jesus!” Instinct made her jerk before she pushed him. “You’re not funny. Asshole.”

   No words. Just stared.

   “You creep.” Camille turned to pick up her jeans as they crammed together in the tiny room. Earning a smack on her ass. “Hey!” She waved him off, eyeing his right hand. A fake replica of Freddy Krueger’s glove with blades skimmed her bare thigh. Huffing, she turned to face him, hands on her hips. “You got your horror bad boys mixed up.”

   “Does that really turn you off?”

   “Little bit. The actual Freddy mask with the burn scars was just outside.”

   “You think I’d put that ugly ass rubber shit over my head?” Billy pulled up the hockey mask, face scrunching.

   “I’m just saying you lose points for it.” She laughed at him, halting when he pressed her back into the corner of the box they squeezed into. “Ugh. You’re impossible.”

   “You’re hot.” Billy settled one plastic blade on her lower lip, inching it over the curve. “I put on a costume, Halloween came earlier. I don’t.” A wink caused her to lick her lips when he shook the glove off.

   “Please, Mister Nightmare the 13th, don’t hurt me. I wanna be in the sequel.” Camille faked an amused, coy shiver before Billy turned her around. “Billy.” The whine signaled her voice lowering. Camille braced her hands on the wall, let him palm her ass and hips until his groin pushed into her bottom. Hair was swept over and a well placed kiss sent chills down her spine. The hockey mask fell aside so Billy could view them in the mirror to his left. 

   “Look at you, all alone.” He’d uttered, pressed into her back. Idle fingers slipped into her underwear, one tug stretched them.

   “Fucking asshole, you’re buying me another pair.” Camille turned to hiss. Noting that he stuffed them into his back pocket. “Like I said, creep.”

   “You love it. Perfect version of me for Halloween, I thought.” One snap undid her bra. Palms cupped her breasts, earning a soft sigh. Music buried their voices just enough. Billy was enjoying himself maybe more than he should have. Lips on her shoulder blade while he twisted her nipples. One hand went up onto locks of brown hair, tugging at silken roots to pull her head back. 

   “Fingers,” came an order he was thrilled to fulfill. Mouths opened and Billy pushed his tongue against hers, muffling a moan so his free hand cupped between her legs.

   “Best costume yet.” He joked, eyes on the mirror while she nuzzled and whined back into him. Lips agape to breathe steady and eyes closed. Thighs quivered when two fingers plunged in, thumb rubbing idle circles into her clit. "You're soaked." Camille felt back to open his belt and slip her hand under denim, a growl hitched.

   “My, my, what big...teeth…you have.” Breathless, she pumped him a few times. Squirmed against his muscled frame.

   “Better to eat you with, Harpy.” He hushed into her jawline. Felt her moving into his fingers and tugged her hand away. The Monster Mash wasn’t the sexiest tune to get weird to. Billy felt her moving into his touch. Putty in his palm. Hazel eyes closed again when Camille’s lips parted. “But, you know what I really want?” A hot mouth skimmed her neck.

   “More.” She sighed into his body. Billy hitched a breath. Pulled his fingers from her thighs to lick them clean.

   “I want...a fucking...cheesesteak.” The heat of him pulled away, left Camille shuddering. Rubbing her thighs together.

   “H-Hey...wait a second.” Camille perked up. Skin fizzling. Billy had that insufferable smile on his face.

   “Maybe, I’ll finish you later. Give it another few costumes.” He winked. Slid out.

   “Billy.” Camille reared forward hissing. Her head popped out. “My panties.”

   “I consider it a tease toll.” He licked his thumb and came forward her kiss her brow. “Cute when you’re all worked up and frustrated. Blushing so hard.”

   “I hate you so much right now.” Camille gruffed, tearing back to jerk her clothing on. Billy was all snickers as she adjusted her jeans. “Fucking hell. How can you do this as much as you do? No underwear?”

   “Look at you squirm, Harpy.”

   “I’ll get you for this.” She snatched her purse, stuffed a few singles into his pocket. “Go buy us food, asshole. I gotta put my shit back. I’m not leaving all these for a poor employee to put away.”

   “What if I promise to make this up to you later?”

   “Oh Billy,” Camille teased, pressing her body into his, “you have...no idea the game you just started.”

   She peered around. Slipped her hand over his shaft until he grunted. Went off all too proud.

   Gulp.

   Camille waited until he had gone before she plucked up a costume. Smiled. Purchased it with devilish eyes. Tied the bag shut so Billy couldn’t glimpse it.

   “Are you really mad about it?”

   “Mad, Billy?” Camille said coolly. “I could never be mad at you.” She plucked up a fry. Chomped. "I don't get mad. I just remember." Billy snickered and went to town on his sandwich. “And to think, you could have put all that enthusiasm to better use between my thighs.”

   He choked laughing. Wiped grease away on his hand. Camille broke too. Reached over to hand him a stack of napkins. Her entire sandwich gone as well.

   “I want to get home. The whole commando in jeans is not a thing for me.”

   “Let me see what you bought.” Billy whined as they tossed their trash out.

   “No, it’s bad luck.”

   “I think that’s a wedding thing.” Idly, he let her lace their hands, weaving through crowds to get out and to the car. Something about it made him smile to himself. "I could say please?"

   “It’s a surprise for later.”

   “I’m in for it, aren’t I?”

   “Maybe.” Camille buckled. The ignition fired up. Billy whizzed out of the parking lot. Immediately a hand was on this thigh.

   “Camille...” He warned, legs opening. She just hummed. Stared outside at the bright autumn day. Dainty fingers grazed down, rubbing him until his cock twitched again. “Hard enough to calm down after the dressing room.”

   “Poor baby.” She felt him strain. Watched his knuckles pale against the wheel. They got to a red light and he reeled to kiss her all tongue and teeth. Camille had a hand on the zipper. “Billy.”

   “Hmmm?” He moaned into her mouth.

   “Green light.” She licked her lips and came out. Took her hand away. He stomped the pedal.

   “Fucking shit.” He glanced down. Arousal wet his jeans. Bitch.

   Camille giggled all the way home. Empty house. Jim working late and El with her little friends. Billy practically chased her to the door. It wasn’t closed and locked again before he was on her. More laughter burst as stubble scratched her neck with wandering lips.

   He took in her perfume and lotions. A floral, citrus sort of scent like paradise. Nipped. Camille pushed playfully.

   “Oh no, you don’t.” She flicked hair aside and went around him with her bags. Slipping off some flats. “I’m putting my stuff away. Shoes.”

   “C’mon, do it later. I could convince you.” Billy kicked his boots aside and tugged as they went upstairs. Pressed her into the door of her bedroom. Camille evaded him. “You’re kidding me.” He whined, falling into the bed with an annoyed huff.

   “You started it in that dressing room. Dug the grave, sweet face, now lie in it.”

   “We’ve ruined plenty of dressing rooms. I was just kidding around.” He settled his hands behind his head. Aching. Camille took her sweet time, stashing the Halloween bag in the bathroom while she pulled tags off clothing to hang pieces away. “You tortured me with sexy costumes all day.”

   “Big baby.” She snickered, waiting until his eyes closed to pounce on him. Billy let out a grunt as she laughed, pecking his cheeks to be a pest. “Maybe I found us something fun.”

   “That so?” Billy pushed brown locks back, cupping her face to bring it down for more kisses. She fell beside him and laid there for a beat of staring. “What?”

   “You’re just pretty.”

   Billy whined and cloaked his face with one arm, twisting over as if he was bashful.

   “Stuff it, Harpy.”

   “You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” Camille nestled against him. Forced him to be little spoon. “Would the gift make you feel better?”

   “...Depends.”

   “Give me five minutes.” She sprang up, grazing his lips while he pulled at her before flitting off. 

   Camille took twenty minutes. Billy complained the entire time.

   “Close your eyes!” She called.

   “Absolutely not.” He resisted, pressed against the bed with his hands in his lap.

   “C’mon, Billy.”

   “Fine.” He made a thing of it to roll his eyes, shutting them. Heard the door open.

   “Well?” Camille draped herself along the door frame.

   “Be still my fucking heart.” Billy’s entire body fizzled with electricity. Camille in a sexy nurse get up, so short you could see the garters clipping white tights up. Little hat with a cross pined up into her messy hair. “Dr. Harper.”

   “That’s right.” She took one step. Heels clicking. 

   “Is this you fulfilling a forgotten promise?” Billy was pulling her into his lap the second she crawled over him. Heels falling over the side of the bed. Camille settled her hands on the frame behind his head, leaning in for a heated kiss. “This isn’t right, you’re the one about to get the injection.”

   “You’re so gross.” Camille’s guise broke when laughter roused, head tipping to his collar. Billy’s hands cupped her bottom, bringing her to grind into him. Lips trailing her neck to bring out a moan.

   “Tell me what I need, Dr. Harper.” Billy had started unbuttoning her little dress, trailing his digits over the lace bra. Another kiss upon her chest. Fingers tugged at his curls. 

   “Don’t stop.” She uttered instead, his face pushed between her breasts. Tugging the lace down so he could leave marks on tender skin. One nipple pressed against his tongue and Camille’s head tipped back. “I think we both need a... ah, thorough observation.”

   “Just tell me where to put my-”

   The doorbell rang.

   The fucking doorbell.

   Billy groaned when Camille perked up, his shirt was half open. Mouths bright and swelled from kisses.

   “No, stay here. Probably some salesman, ignore it.” Billy nipped at her again, earning a shudder. Hands everywhere to just keep her in his lap. Hushing and sultry. “Ignore it. Let me fuck you.”

   “But...” It tolled once more. “Just...ugh, fuck-” Camille pushed his hands down as he pawed, scrambled to fix her dress before she was up. Both of them vibrating with frustrated nerves. Crackling with fire.

   “Camille, c’mon.” Billy followed, pressing her into the door frame. Pushing his tongue into her mouth. “Stay.”

   “Just one...second,” she tugged for a robe and tossed her hat aside, “I'm coming!”

   “Was supposed to be me saying that.” Billy followed, fully intent on punching whoever dared to ring that bell. Camille opened it and gasped softer, tried to come down from the heat.

   “Tommy?” He was halfway off the porch, hands shoved into his pockets.

   “Oh. Hey, Cam...”

   “What are you-?” 

   “I didn’t know where to...my bad. This is stupid.”

   Billy was going to murder him in broad daylight.

   “Hey, wait, what’s wrong?” Camille had him by the arm, pulling. Tommy eyed Billy’s blazing eyes behind her.

   “...Did I interrupt something, you two?”

   “No.” Camille began.

   “Yes!” Billy puffed, bursting at the seams with an ache. “Empty house. No kids. No Chief. What does this look like, a fucking tea party?”

   “Look who hasn’t changed, Keg King. You crazy kids.” Tommy’s smile was crooked, the sun caught his hair to bring more auburn color out. He passed the couple and fell into the couch like he owned it with the news that he’d barged in on them about to tear into each other.

   “Billy, chill.” Camille shut the door, eyes rolling. “You’re sad.”

   “I’m not sad.” Tommy shrugged and she crossed her arms, eyebrow lifting.

   “Why’d you come over, you started to say you didn’t know where to go?”

   “It’s stupid.” Tommy rubbed the back of his head. Billy huffed and went into the kitchen. Appeared with some whiskey from Jim's stash.

   “What? He’s sad, I’m going to be sad too.” Billy plopped into a chair, drinking.

   “So, um, Carol and I have been talking and whatever like you said we should. Things are good for her up there in Chicago, you know?”

   “Yeah,” Camille sat down next to him. Billy gulped across from them. “What happened?”

   “I don’t know, I thought we’d...find our way back. We’re friends.” He frowned. Another slouchy shrug. “She’s seeing someone else. It’s stupid. I’m happy for her, but I...” Tommy tapped his fingers on his knee. “I thought...”

   “Oh.” Camille leaned forward. “Sorry.”

   “Girls, right?” Billy drank and Camille swiped the bottle from him, crossed to offer it to Tommy.

   “Thanks.” Tommy smirked a little. Drank. Camille followed, wiping her mouth. “Uhhh...What are you wearing, Cam?”

   “Oh.” She looked down at her open robe. “This.”

   “Dr. Harper, huh. Hot. Classic too, you can’t go wrong. Think you got a winner.” Tommy chuckled, eyes scanning and Billy shot him a look.

   “Thanks, Tom, that’s all I needed to pick my costume and...some people were not helping. I don't know though, little dated look. Bought it mostly for sex.” Camille side-eyed her boyfriend when he looked indignant. 

   “She dragged me to every Halloween store. Tried on every single costume. And we’re finally able to-”

   “You’re dating Camille fucking Harper, man, suck it up.” Tommy scrunched his face. “Your smoking hot girlfriend played dress up all day for you and you complain about it? I should kick your ass, idiot.”

   “Thank you, Tommy.” Camille pushed at his shoulder, giggling. “He understands.”

   “Tease.” Billy puffed, leaning to take the bottle. “When you put it that way, I sound like the asshole.”

   “You are.” Tommy winked as Camille’s arms wrapped around his neck.

   “My heroic sweetie.” A kiss on his cheek. He melted into her, freckles glowing pink. That lingering friendship they’d had growing up fluttered in pieces. So much had changed.

   Billy blew air out his lips, gave the bottle back to Camille when he stood.

   “Break it up.” Billy squirmed between them. Sniffed the air. “Tommy...what are you hiding in that jacket?”

   “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He scooted back.

   “Fess up, Hagan.” Billy, no boundaries, stuffed his hands into the jacket. 

   “Hey! Fucking thief!” 

   Camille cackled as the boys wrestled around before Billy pinned Tommy down with muscled thighs and plucked a plastic bag up. Few rolled joints waiting. Tommy was out of his jacket and wiggling under him pathetically at this point. Billy fucking Hargrove was straddling him and the guy was huge. His own stomach sparked low and stillness overcame him.

   “You holding out on us?” Billy’s tongue swept over teeth.

   “I was gonna share, asshole.” Tommy bucked up at the same time Camille snatched the baggie. Taking the prize and liquor with her.

   “Sorry boys.” She tripped, scrambling off.

   “Hey!” Billy forced a grunt from Tommy jumping off him. Hot on her tail as she went up the stairs giggling. The other boy followed. All laughing and buzzed. Billy tackled his girlfriend into the bed, sat on her legs as they fought. Tommy had one of Camille’s wrists, tickled her side until she released the bag. 

   Hearts thudding.

   “Okay! Okay! I give.” She bloomed bright pink, head tossed back over the side of the bed laughing.

   “Worst nurse ever.” Billy mused, falling beside her as Tommy dug into his pocket for a lighter.

   “If Jim smells this, we’re dead.” Camille rose to open the bedroom window and lit a couple scented candles.

   “Way to be romantic,” Tommy sucked, sitting in the bay window to blow out. Billy snorted and snatched the joint to follow.

   “Shit. Not bad.” He blew it into Camille’s face, earning a swat.

   “Jerk.” She tried it properly next, slipping next to Tommy. He took it back and inhaled, face scrunching as he coughed.

   “Fucking lightweight.” Billy poked at him, stealing it.

   “Quick, Camille, I need mouth to mouth.”

   “I hate you guys.” She put her legs up, stretching. Tommy shifted back near the window’s edge, peering out and Billy plopped next to him. More whiskey passed. Camille eyed them in the sun and felt her heart flutter. An obscene sort of flutter that glittered. Tommy peered at Billy and brought Camille’s legs into his lap. She hummed when he massaged her ankles.

   “Still my girlfriend.” Billy’s eyebrow cocked in question.

   “My friend first.” Tommy grinned, pulling Camille by the legs toward him until his arm was under her knees. “I found her.”

   “You were a dick in high school.”

   “Hey, I get some growth points. You’re still a dick, bud.” 

   “True.” Billy scoffed and traded the bottle for the joint. “Like the whole dry cleaner business gig?”

   “Aunt’s taking me under her wing,” Tommy shrugged, “good money. Family side business. I don’t hate Hawkins, you know. Worse places I could be...”

   Billy felt that hit deep.

   “...Stepping up in the world and all. Learning. Couple big cities are an hour drive away. I could get used to things. Carol moved on. Guess I should too.”

   “How mature,” Camille leaned over him for a new smoke Billy was lighting, blowing it out the window into the warm breeze.

   “I’m all grown up, Cam.” He winked. “You guys jetting for Cali after all this?”

   “How’d you guess that?” Billy relaxed, pulling Camille’s ankles into his lap so she was draped over them in her messy nurse get up. Robe tossing aside. She sighed back into the pillows. One arm behind her head. 

   Tommy’s hand on her knee drawing circles into the tights.

   “Pretty much the moment you got here, I knew you’d be taking our pretty Queen Bee away.” He chuckled, slipping the joint from Camille’s fingers. “She didn’t belong here. Always too good for this place.”

   “Don’t say that. We all had some fun here. No denying it now.” She tapped her ankles together. “There’s no place like home.” Tommy laughed again, drank some alcohol down. Camille looked up at trees moving outside. Warm colored leaves illuminated by the high sun. More flutters. Fingernails idly tapped the window ledge.

   “Any secrets about Camille I should know?” Billy elbowed Tommy’s side, earning a smirk.

   “Nothing I’ll tell you, man, my loyalty is to her.”

   “I’m the Keg King, as you hollered that entire Halloween party last year.”

   “King’s lost without the Queen and so is the court.” Tommy winked at Camille. “Even the fool. Me.”

   “No, Tommy, you were worthy Duke, at the least.” Camille pushed at his arm, fingers brushed down.

   “Aw, you’re just saying that.”

   “Weed talking,” Billy added which earned him a shove. Camille heaved herself up, glazed eyes sliding over them both.

   “I am not just saying that.” She mused. “I mean it. You’ll hit the ground running after today, I promise. You have a lot to offer.” Her hand pushed his hair back, ruffling it. “Right, Billy?”

   Tommy was too busy purring with Camille’s touch. Delving fingers over the grown out, soft locks.

   “Keep your pot supplier.” He shrugged simply, stretching behind Tommy to put the smoke out on the roof.

   “That was almost genuine.”

   “He’ll get there,” Camille said, “won’t you Billy?” She tugged him into her for a quick peck over Tommy’s lap.

   “Hey, cool it.” Two hands pushed them apart. Giggles followed.

   “You made your Duke feel left out.” Billy had winked at her. Camille tapped a fingernail to her lips. “You’re just worked up because we were.” Are.

   “Miss the part where my girl ain’t coming back, Hargrove?”

   It dawned in those ocean eyes.

   “...No, shit, you waited?”

   “Fuck you.” Tommy shifted like he might get up, unable to move Camille’s legs off him.

   “No, Tommy, it’s cool. He’s just being blunt.” Camille shot Billy a look. Hands on Tommy’s chest to push him back into place. “Don’t be an ass about it.”

   “Shit...Sorry, man.”

   “Did you just apologize to me?” Tommy blinked.

   “I’m just saying it fucking sucks, alright? Not trying to make you feel like shit.” Billy snatched the whiskey up to drink. Offered it to Tommy like it was a further apology. The freckled boy warmed some and took it. Bottoms up. Finished the rest. Dunked it into the trash a few feet away. An arm went around Camille’s back, bringing her into his chest.

   “You heard him say sorry, right, Cam?” Lips touched her temple when that raspy voice lowered.

   “I did.” She snickered.

   “Screw you guys.” Billy roused further amusement. His own cheeks were tinting from the warmth and alcohol. Too cute.

   “You better cherish this girl when you two run off into the sunset, I swear to god, man.”

   “He does now, Tommy dear, I promise.” Camille bit her lip, head lifting to see him. “We take care of each other.”

   “We tried to before you rang that doorbell.” Billy grumbled.

   “Ignore him.”

   “It is a nice costume.” Tommy tugged for the collar. Camille hitched a breath at that.

   “Little too tight.” Camille braced back on her hands, legs still across them both. Comfortable. “Don’t you think so?” Both boys shook their heads in tune as if they choreographed it. She blew hair out of her face. “Men .”

   Tommy playfully snapped a garter when the skirt rode up.

   “Hey!” She smacked his hand.

   “Couldn’t help that.”

   Billy snapped the other. Another slap.

   “Shits.” She scooted back and got tugged by Billy over Tommy’s lap. Amusement fizzled when she decided to tease. “You know. The tights are kinda uncomfortable. You boys mind? Help a nurse out.” Both pushed at each other to unclip them.

   “My girlfriend.”

   “My queen.” Tommy shot back. “You get one, I’ll get the other.”

   “Deal.” They stared. A beat.

   Still fought trying to slip white tights off her. Camille watched in mild fascination and amusement. Let them sweat it and fuss over her. Billy scooted up to her side, tugged her into his chest with long legs still draped over Tommy’s own.

   “You two are so ridiculous.” Camille nuzzled into Billy’s chest. A breeze pulled in to sweep her hair around.

   “Probably my cue to scram before Hargrove introduces me to concrete, huh.” Tommy shifted.

   “No, we’re having fun,” Camille clung to Billy and grabbed for Tommy’s sleeve. “Stay here. Plus, you’re stoned and buzzed, we can’t leave poor Tommy to fend for himself. Can we?”

   “I mean...we can.” Billy laughed at her expression. “Just fucking stay man. Camille will lose her mind if you try driving.”

   “Pssh, I could run a marathon.” He stretched and slumped back, half out the window.

   “Tommy, stop that!” Camille pulled him in laughing. Torso landing on her. Squished between the two boys, her heart picked up. Thudded in her ears. That same obscene flutter so she stilled and swallowed it down. Billy adjusted some, peered at them. Camille’s fingers in Tommy’s shirt. His hands on her hips. Resting comfortably.

   “So, before I moved here...you guys ever…?” Billy cocked his head.

   “No!” They both protested.

   “Not for lack of trying, I wrote...that letter during one of my many breaks with Carol.”

   “Yeah, we read that.” Billy blurted. Tommy’s mouth fell open.

   “And you didn’t beat the shit out of me?”

   “I mean,” Billy’s eyes darted. Camille grew bright red, hidden into his shirt. “Wanted to at first, but…it was sorta hot.”

   “…You guys got off to it, no shit!” Tommy jumped up on his knees.

   “We did not!”

   “You fucked to my dirty fantasy. Admit it, huh. Why can’t you look at me, Keg King?”

   “I can still pound you.” Billy hissed. Camille was giggling into his chest.

   “I made you guys all hot ‘n bothered.” Tommy bit his lip. “I riled up the King and Queen. Fuck being the fool or Duke, I’m a fucking King too. I’m the fucking Pope, Church of the Horny. Bless me.”

   “In your fantasy.” Billy shot.

   “Yeah, my fantasy, which you got off to. You’re welcome. You both owe me one.” Tommy shifted to lie down. “Fuck, that weed man.” He rubbed his temple and laughed, arm propped up to hold his head so he could peer at them. “So...tell me about it. What got you? I was detailed.”

   “Nothing- ”

   “Definitely the tongue stuff.” Camille offered and Billy’s head snapped down at her. “He asked, I can’t lie to that little face.”

   “Right on...” Tommy wiggled his brow, sucked his bottom lip into teeth. “So you like that stuff, Camille?”

   “If it’s done right.” Camille shrugged. Billy just groaned behind her. This was not happening. Tommy’s fingers tapped her knee in sync.

   “It really is an art. Hargrove a giver?”

   “He does alright.”

   “Just alright?” Billy scrunched his face. “Okay, Miss Pull My Hair Out And Scream .”

   “I so don’t scream.” Camille bickered with him.

   "Oh, but you do."

   For a moment, they forgot Tommy was reeled into this conversation.

   “You’re such a liar. Fine, Billy is great at it. Just shut up.”

   “Hard to make the Bee blush like that.” Tommy prodded. “Turns her into a little kitten.”

   “I have the science down.”

   “Share your secrets with me.”

   “Both of you, shut it.” Camille pushed them off her in a huff.

   “Make us.” Tommy came up. Inches from her. “Look at you, playing hot and teasing. But you’re just too damn cute like this and you know that, Cam. On the receiving end. Already admitted you like that end.”

   “Isn’t she?” Billy got his bicep back around her.

   “You two are friends now that you’re ganging up on me?” Camille mocked, arms crossing. Billy tucking her hair aside while Tommy was still inches from her face with his big, wandering eyes.

   “I think the Bee just has a thing for guys with freckles.” Tommy winked. “Isn’t that right?”

   “You’re getting close there, man.” Billy eyed him. Tommy didn’t move.

   “Bothering either of you?” He said. No reply. “Been a little curious since the letter, I bet. I got you guys off, don’t deny it. I was there in spirit. And I’m here now.” Camille slid her eyes to Billy like she was asking a question. 

   He blinked at her. Head cocked without faltering. An, if you must , sort of wordless expression.

   A palm pressed Camille’s back, urging her into Tommy’s mouth. Impact.

   That thudding in her chest could have bloomed to a red glow. Neon hearts.

   She moaned. Opened her lips for a drunken kiss that somehow sobered. Too many sensations at once. Billy’s hands sliding around her waist. Tommy’s on her hips. His tongue. Being pressed back into the wall. Fingers coaxed her chin to kiss Billy next with the same fervor.

   Tommy’s mouth fell down her neck. All encouragement. Camille’s arm was up, hand catching Billy’s curls to urge his kiss on. She broke to push forward into Tommy, straddling him.

   “Fuck.” Billy watched her bottom press out against the tight costume. Enthralled by her moving into the other boy. Camille came up for air, pushed herself back into the other wall.

   “What the fuck?” She caught her breath. “What the actual fuck?”

   “Doctors are allowed more than one patient.” Tommy joked, touching his mouth. “Shit, Cam, I’ve thought about that. Nothing prepared me for the real thing.” He sobered again, looked to Billy expecting anger.

   “Do it again.” He whispered instead. Wavering slightly.

   “You do it.” She retorted. “You’ve done this before, I can tell, Billy.”

   “So have you. Heard all about that summer.”

   “Oh, you told him about that summer?” Tommy flashed another signature crooked smile. “We all got around. No overlap. I wish.”

   “I was a mess, can’t blame me.” She shrugged. “Other schools are fair game. Few threesomes. Some...it was just me and some guy from another school but...there were other couples in the room.”

   “You guys are both way ahead of me.” Tommy groaned, rubbing his eyes.

   “Had a threesome back in Cali.” Billy admitted.

   “Guy and girl?” Tommy watch him nod. “Shit man, I had you so wrong. Did...Did you?”

   “Not really, I...a little.” Billy bit his lip in a way that was unlike him.

   “Kiss Tommy and I’ll kiss him again.” Camille teased because it would only work if they all were in. Tommy perked up.

   “Do me a fucking solid, man.” Tommy begged. One hand curled into Billy’s shirt. A tug. Billy just flickered his eyes over him.

   “You talk a lot of big game.”

   “I deliver. You read the letter.”

   “Anyone can think about fucking.” Billy scoffed like he was the expert.

   “Yeah, and some of us think about it twenty four, seven. Believe me, it helps. You got the guys who think about sports and money, whatever...and the guys who think about perfecting their tongue game. I don’t think about sex to just get off, I like making a girl feel so good. Pride thing.”

   “Carol did have a lot to say when we had our sleepovers with Heather.”

   “She did?” Tommy’s eyes got huge. Pride swelled. “You see, Billy?”

   “I’m not yanking your chain to make you feel better.” Camille cut in before either could go on. Eyes on the fist curled into Billy’s sleeve.

   “You ever kiss a guy before?”

   Billy didn’t answer that. Just blinked his pretty eyes.

   Tommy cupped the back of his head. Brought him in. Camille crawled forward to see their lips touch. A soft kiss that she didn’t expect. Fists clenched in Billy’s lap. He pulled out, eyes opening before Camille offered herself. Tommy had his fingers into long curls. All too pleased.

   “Mmm.” Camille pushed him back again. Billy just sat there looking starry eyed. Broad palm cupping her bottom to squeeze. She straddled Tommy’s hips and kissed her boyfriend again. Hands all over her. A way of worship. Camille shuddered because it was unreal. How good they both felt. Thighs quivering when Tommy’s hips pushed into her. A curse lifted as she scrambled off them. “Boys, please, I... fuck I...”

   “My thought exactly.” Tommy rasped. “Still blushing, Bee.”

   “So are you, Tom.” Hazel eyes rolled. He came up, eyed Billy. 

   “Him, most of all.”

   “Dick.” Billy shoved him to crawl toward Camille. Looking all worked up and sparkling with her lips swollen pink. Unable to stop himself, he kissed her again. Pushed his tongue in.

   “Can I...” Tommy’s hand was on her knee, sliding, “touch you?” Camille broke the kiss. Bit her lip again before a nod followed. Billy watched too. Curious.

   “You want this?” Billy said with his thumbs smoothing. “Us.”

   “Yes.” Camille swallowed. “You?”

   “We sure he’s any good?”

   “You keep doubting me, just because I was a shit in high school.” Tommy touched his chest. “Let me prove it. We could play a game.”

   “We could play truth or dare.” Camille had joked.

   “And how do you want to do that?” Billy ghosted a smirk of disbelief. This was really their evening.

   “Easy. I get Camille off with my mouth.” He shrugged, massaging her inner thigh. “Bonus points, she screams.”

   “I don’t scream.” She cut in.

   “Seven minutes. For luck. If you can’t do it, I finish her and you watch helplessly.” Billy replied then.

   “Still here, boys.”

   “I do it in under seven, you both treat me to some mouth action. I get to be king for a while. Deal?” Tommy’s grin made Billy shake his head. Blase about it. 

   “Deal. Camille?”

   “I win either way.” She yelped as Tommy’s hands hooked under her knees. Jerked forth on her back. Head in Billy’s lap.

   “Time says 6:27.” He’d remarked, lighting up another joint. Sucking, he put it to Camille’s lips until she puffed. Tommy pushed her dress up and cursed. Thanked all his lucky stars.

   “Fuck, Camille, you know how many wet dreams started this way?”

   “Charmed.”

   “You’re wasting time.” Billy noted Tommy seemed unworried. Pushing her thighs apart. Thumbing her though those lacy panties. Camille’s eyes clouded over.

   “Already wet, man, you should be shaking.”

   “Whatever, keep talking.” Billy chuckled. Tommy pulled fabric aside. “Leaving them on?”

   “Find it kinda hot.” Tommy peppered his lips up her thighs. Savored this. “Not to sound sappy, but this is fucking breathtaking. You’re pretty, kitten.” Billy snorted, not worried himself with Tommy’s chatter.

   And then he went silent.

   Camille gasped in surprise. Eyes lifting.

   “Oh, my...” She felt that stab of hunger from this whole day swell. Tommy’s lips against her clit. Kissing deeply. Lapping. Fingers stretched her panties aside. Ate her like he was starved, eyes turned to Billy when his tongue plunged inside her. A wink. Billy felt hot again with Camille squirming in his lap.

   “Camille?” The amusement fell. He fucked up this time. 

   She puffed, arching up. Fist pushed toward her mouth. Teeth digging to bite on something. Anything. Tommy moaned and ate her. Put on a fucking show of it. Billy eyed the clock. 6:28. Fuck, why was time so damn slow? Camille twisted. Almost like it was too much already.

   “Holy shit,” she moaned loudly, “Tommy.” His tongue swirled before he sucked. One hand curled around her thigh and the other pushing her pelvis down. “Oh, fuck. Billy?”

   “You’ve got to me kidding me.” He leaned down. “What the fuck, man?” Tommy ignored him, kept up. Tormenting her clit with no end in sight. Camille’s breathing picked up. She couldn’t help palming her breasts when the heat shot forth. When her nerves caught pure fire. “Hey.” Billy grabbed her wrists.

   “Fuck, I’m...oh shit, I’m already...almost.” She whined, biting her lip and looking like she might be in heaven. “Holding my wrists is making it w-worse.”

   “Hold it together, don’t you fucking cum.” He threatened.

   “Cam, you want my fingers too?” Tommy mumbled.

   “Yes!”

   “No!” Billy let her wrists go.

   “Please,” Camille licked her lips and felt aimlessly for fabric to hold, “please, let him.”

   “He’s fucking cheating.”

   “She asked nicely, man. Told you I only obey the queen.” Tommy plunged two digits in. Felt her clench like a vice. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” Pumping elicited a further gasp. Fingers twisted into cushion.  

   “Camille, do not blow this for us.” Billy warned.

   “Ooh!” She spread her legs. Another curve to her spine. Gasping. Eyes rolling because Tommy H was playing her like a fucking fiddle. “Fuck! Babe...you’re going to...ah...be the one blowing this.”

   Fuck.

   He should have screwed her in that dressing room. Camille rocked into him without even trying. Tommy closed his eyes. Made it worth his while. Worked his tongue all over her until she covered her mouth to stop what might have been an almost scream.

   “What do you say, Cam?” He teased, licking his lips. Thumbing her bud lightly.

   “Don’t stop! Fuck! Just...oh, god.” She writhed there and Billy’s mouth fell open.

   “You’re fucking me.” He watched his girlfriend cry out. “No, no. Camille, don’t you dare cum. Don’t do it.”

   “I can’t...help it. Oh, fuck!” A tear squeezed out one eye. 

   “Atta, girl.” Tommy fucked her on his tongue and fingers with vigor. Watched Billy squirm because of it. Orgasm locked her up and Tommy didn’t stop until she was grasping up desperately at her boyfriend. Vibrating. A few softer kisses brought her down.

   The bastard did it in four and a half minutes.

   Tommy’s amusement didn’t halt when he grabbed Billy’s face to kiss him. Camille all over his lips. Mouths opened that time. Billy grew slack when it ended, huge blue eyes.

   “I love to say this, but I told you so.”

   “You fucking prick.” Billy shoved him.

   “Yeah,” Tommy hovered to see Camille, “you hanging in there, princess? You’re pretty like this.” She puffed aimlessly, wobbled trying to stand and fix her skirts.

   “You were supposed to hold that back, what the fuck?” Billy tossed a hand out.

   “As if you could have lasted for that. He’s a fucking hurricane. Holy shit. Shit. I’m still...” She was trying to catch her breath. “Tommy... I take back every time I didn't believe Carol.”

   “I know.” He pecked her lips. Eyes alight. “My turn. And then...I gotta fuck you.”

   “Figure we should punish her for that. Christ, Camille. You couldn’t hold out three more minutes?” Billy hissed.

   “He’s good.” She shoved him back. “You got yourself into that deal. I want to...keep having fun. But, nothing goes in my ass.”

   “Not a problem.” Tommy cupped her jaw. Kissed her lips. “Can I get my reward first? Billy?”

   “Not any good at it.”

   “I’m sure that’s not true, Keg King. And Camille will offer some help, I’m bet. Look at her. Eager.”

   She chuckled when Tommy fell back, her head on his shoulder.

   “Billy, come here to us.” She reached out. “I want to play.” He fell into her. They just drowned here like nothing was beyond the window. Mouths touching. Palms all over. Billy buried himself in Camille’s neck when she craned to kiss Tommy. Obscene kisses with a whiskey spice.

   “Love the costume, but...” Tommy opened a few buttons while Billy followed the trail. Nipping. “Let me see her.” Camille hummed as Billy pulled her dress open. A cherry red plastic zipper sounded. Tommy’s hand snaked down to stretch the lacy bra. Billy was cupping her tits, already teasing nipples with his mouth and fingers while she watched Tommy rub himself to the sight. “You’re fucking beautiful, Cam.”

   Camille swayed, lost in the fire. She came up all plush and pink. Swallowed Tommy’s shaft down as Billy yanked her costume off. Wind cooled her skin. The sky painted all different colors. Billy watched his girlfriend bob her head like she needed it. Wiggling her hips before underwear was pulled. Swollen and sensitive. Dripping.

   “Camille, fuck,” Tommy’s face twisted with pleasure. Fingers tugged at her hair. “You’re not sharing with Billy. Greedy girl.” He pulled her up for a kiss. She only smiled with a lax expression.

   “Billy, kiss me.” She said. Lips wet from Tommy’s arousal. Billy’s tongue dipped into her mouth for a taste while hands slipped her bra off. Nude and exposed before her friends. “Truth or dare?”

   “Now?” Billy scoffed as her arms went around him. “Truth.”

   “Want to help me?” Another kiss, pulling him down against her body. Billy made a sound low in his throat. Eyed Tommy there again biting his lip. A glint. Camille crawled up him. “We lost the bet. All’s fair.” Fingers latched into Tommy’s shirt. Kissing all over the fabric.

   “Fuck, Harper, I really might not leave this place.”

   “Until the police chief drags you out by your intestines.” Billy joked, shifting up on his front.

   “Better not waste anymore time, then.” Came the quip. A moan when Camille licked up his leaking shaft. Pulled Billy in for another dirty kiss, inches away.

   “Truth or dare?”

   Billy smirked.

   “Dare.”

   “Do to him what he did to me.” Lips curled. Stroking Tommy until Billy sank down. One hand curled into Camille’s, the other in Tommy’s. He moaned and the other boy about vibrated there, thrusting up. A gag.

   “Fuck, man, sorry. Shit.” The words slurred. Digits tugged for curls and Billy jerked back, lips rosy and slick.

   “Don’t pull it, asshole.”

   “You’ve so done this before.”

   Billy’s face disappeared in response. 

   He closed his eyes amid the moans. Camille sweeping those blond locks aside to stroke his jaw and cheek. Her breaking the motion to kiss him until they took turns. Tongues sliding together obscenely. Wet kisses down the girth. Camille cupped Tommy’s face next, buried her mouth into his neck until he was bucking.

   “I’m gonna...cum.” He tried to warn. Hands gripping Camille’s arm. Billy holding his hips was answer enough. Another strangled choke before blue eyes lifted. Release down those pink lips. Camille opened her mouth for some and Tommy came next. Shoving Billy into the cushions as they pulled up their shirts. “Fucking pretty Cali boys.”

   He just marveled at the couple. Worked up and gorgeous. All his for a night. He prayed he’d remember this dream when he woke. Tommy made quick work of Billy’s belt. Saw this vulnerability that was rarely displayed in bright eyes while Billy’s gaze lowered. Hands smoothing to tug for the jeans to come off fully. Camille helped them undress. Playfully tugging and tossing fabric.

   The sun had gone down so they just looked at each other in the candlelight while the curtains blew in.

   “Truth of dare?” Tommy asked with a knowing smile Billy matched.

   “Truth?”

   “How many times you think we can make our girl cum?”

   Our girl.

   Camille liked that. She giggled and curled down into the cushions. Free and shameless.

   “I’d like to find out.” Billy swept her up at that. Dropping her nude frame into the bed. Camille playfully got under the covers. "No, no. You think I forgot earlier? I told you in that dressing room I'd finish you later and you decided to let Tommy finish the job."

   "It's why I'm here." Tommy rounded the bed as Billy tugged covers aside. Camille stretched out, head on her hand there.

   "Billy's very cross with me." She traced the sheet lazily. Tommy slipped in behind her, one arm snatched her into his soft body. Lips tracing the line of her shoulder up her neck. "Come, get in bed with us." She sighed back into hot flesh. Aimlessly felt for Billy as the bed caved. The hard lines of his body fell against her, lips opening for a kiss she then craned to share with Tommy. Hard as can be again, his cock pushed up between her thighs.

   "Again?" Camille puffed, moaning when Billy's hand snaked down. Helped Tommy rub himself along her slit. "Fuck." Camille muffled herself into Billy's collar. Relentless rubbing made her arch for more of it. Tip pushed up just inside her. "Please?"

   "What was that?" Billy's slick thumb trailed over her lips.

   "Please." A whine when she was filled. Tommy groaned and pushed her over on her knees. Billy lifted for a kiss, held her arms until she sank down into his lap. Mouth open to take him as Tommy began to rut. Fingers pressing hips and tangling hair to pull. Three bodies joining together in fire. 

   It was strange to have another boy deep inside her. While Billy moaned and pumped up into her mouth. Uttered filthy things about how she was still being punished. A naughty thrill rushed. Camille lifted up to playfully nip at Billy's skin. Lip. Collarbone. Pec. He hissed, cupping her face as they moved together.

   "Told you not to cum earlier and what did you do?"

   "Tommy's fault." Camille hitched when a chuckle gave behind her. "You had to pay for the dressing room."

   "Camille, don't take this the wrong way." Tommy slowed and Camille had started to turn when a smack landed across her bottom. A yelp erupted with widening eyes. "Fuck, I had to do that just once."

   "Do it again." Billy let Camille sputter into his neck when second slap landed. Hands dug for his biceps. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

   Thwack!

   "Ah!" Camille arched up. "I get it." Fingers yanked Billy by the hair for another long kiss. A hand pushed up between her thighs. Caused her legs to quake until she slipped down Billy. Face puffing into sheets with an arm draped over his hot skin. Her boyfriend worked her back up. Didn't stop. Camille bunched fabric into her teeth, groaned a muffled sound. Eyes rolling to squeeze shut.

   Everything went black then green then white then black again. Dots fluttered in circles. Tommy had fallen next to her. Sandwiched between them, she purred and moaned distantly. Felt hands massaging awareness back into her body. Billy nudged her on her back for his turn. Swore. Began to thrust while Tommy played with her tits, kissed from her neck to mouth. His fingers slipped down the lines of her, ghosting her raw bud to feel her tense.

    Billy cursed again, hands cupped under her knees. Hips slapping for a sound that was wet and filthy. Tommy kept her in a state. Locked up tight while he rubbed light circles. Camille held his shoulders to kiss him again until spit trails left as they parted. He didn't stop beckoning her to another cliff. Mouth by her ear until she realized he was whispering.

   "C'mon, Camille, give us another. You're so pretty, kitten. One more." 

   Lips almost drew blood. Spine drawing to an arch which made Billy about lose it.

   "Oh, fuck you both." Camille whined aloud. A cry hitched.

   "Yeah, that's the game you're losing right now." Billy felt his own end tip and pumped through it. Spattered cum between her thighs to fall upon her empty side. He realized she was still crying out. "Insatiable, Tommy?"

   "She's got another in her." He attacked her neck and Billy curled in to assist. Camille wasn't sure who ended where and what fingers belonged to which hands. Billy and Tommy kissing her and each other. Holding her writhing, squirming body into the mattress. A mouth licking her clean and fingers pushing cum back into her like it was the hottest thing.

   "Again, babe?" Billy teased. Fingers in Tommy's hair while he lapped. No words came, only broken chanting syllables. Thighs quivering. "You wanted to cum so bad. You know what we want?"

   "Ah! Can I?" She swatted at Billy and jerked him closer. Felt his hands on her breasts again. "Can I?"

   "Can you, what?"

   "Can I fuck...fucking..." She covered her mouth. Rasped a cry between fingers.

   "Close enough, just cause we love you. I assume any guy that eats pussy like that does it with love, right, Tommy?"

   "Mmm." The moan vibrated Camille's body. "Ah!" Billy felt her locking for another small climax. Finally letting up, Camille sagged to catch her lost breath. Felt Tommy slink up to collapse upon her chest. Ear pressed to hear her heart thump. Made for a soft scene with her breathing and petting him there.

   "Assholes..." She wheezed, smoothing her fingers into Tommy's hair. Billy leaned to kiss her gently, let one arm curl up around his head to guide him down for more. Switching off between him and Tommy, she melted down into the sheets. "There's no way I'm getting up." Skin pressed together, thighs sliding over each other.

   "Is this an invite to the royal bedchamber?"

   "Shut up." Billy mumbled into Camille's hair, thick lashes fluttering while he ran his nose up her skull. "We won't boot you. Yet."

   "Admit you guys like me already." Tommy pulled covers up and settled in. Bit his grin back. Camille hummed and nuzzled into his side. "Hey?"

   Billy snored. Face burrowed into Camille's hair.

   "Figures." He nestled in. Limbs thrown all over. A haze of flesh and heat. "Lightweights." One arm shifted behind his head, eyes on the ceiling with a curling smile because this was the greatest night before sleep crept.

*** ** **

   Tommy woke to a mess of curls on his shoulder. Blond curls. The shower ran in the other room.

   "Hey, sleeping beauty."

   Billy's head lifted with a scrunching expression to take this in.

   "You're not my girlfriend." He shoved the smaller boy off, rolling over with a groan to take the sheets with him. "Asshole."

   "You're way prissier than Camille, Hargrove, you realize that?"

   Billy mumbled something about punching him.

   "Cuties, rise and shine." Camille came out in a towel. Bright eyed. "Jim's home so no funny business." Billy's bed head lifted again. "Yes, you especially." She kissed Tommy on the nose and went over to kiss Billy awake. Pecking him obnoxiously until he tugged for her towel. "Hey!" Hands were smacked. "Showers, both of you. This room smells like sin." She lit another candle on her dresser.

   "Is this like a one time thing? Cause I felt a connection." Tommy was up to pull his underwear on, eyes on Camille when she tossed her towel aside to dress.

   "Wish in one hand, piss in the other. See which one fills first." Billy lit a cigarette. Scratched his nose with one thumb and got up, nude and groaning. "You sore?"

   "Delightfully so." Camille pulled a dress over her body. "Shower. Dress. Breakfast. Don't wake the bear."

   "You guys will still call me after this right?" Tommy pouted, getting up finally. "I can hit you up in Cali?"

   "Stage five clinger already." Billy winked, blowing smoke. "You write us a few more letters, we might work something out. Camille?"

   "You know," she shrugged, "I never did find an actual costume, we trashed the nurse getup. We could take a trip into the city. Two pairs of eyes are better than one."

   Tommy's face lit up and Billy groaned.

   "He's so ungrateful." 

   "Maybe we can convince him it's fun." Camille slid her arms around Billy's shoulders. A smile before she kissed her whiny boyfriend. "Please Billy?" Lips on his jaw made him immediately weak.

   "Fine, Tommy stays in the car."

   "Hey!

   "We'll crack the window for you, man." Billy shrugged, dodged a pillow before he stole the bathroom. 

   "You feel better, Tom?" Camille set her hands on her hips, beaming some.

   "Frankly, I forgot my own name last night," Tommy only laughed, "so I'm peachy. I won't make this weird at all." He rocked upon his feet, shrugging and she smirked at him.

   "No, not one bit." Camille kissed his cheek. "Behave in here. I'll start pancakes." She slid out, peering around before creeping to the steps.

   "You think you can get anything past me, Camille?" A throat cleared. Shit. Mayday.

   "Uh...?" She brought her shoulders up, turning. "Jim? No..."

   "You think I wouldn't find out, kid?" He stood there, arms crossed at his bedroom.

   "It...just happened, I'm sorry. Tommy came over and we-"

   "You guys got into my whiskey. I know."

   Teeth pressed, hazel eyes flicking. Oof.

   "Oh. Yeah. Right...that." She touched her head. Heavens above, thank you. "Sorry, we stayed in my room. Finished it. It won't happen again."

   "Just ask next time, I might surprise you." Jim passed her in uniform, ruffling her hair on the way. "I'd rather you drink here than do it anywhere else. I was a teen once."

   "Oh, Jim, you're so right," Camille was all giggles, bounding into the kitchen to turn with pink cheeks, "nothing gets past you, Chief."

   A shiny smile flashed.

   "Camille, you have anymore towels? Billy stole all of them up here." Tommy waltzed to the top of the steps in his underwear, spotting Jim there. "Ugh! Morning, Chief, great uniform. Pressed." He covered himself even still. Both the dumbfounded Chief and Camille pointed to the closet. The teen snatched a towel and raced away.

   "...Camille, why was he-?"

   "Breakfast, Jim?" Camille tossed a green apple he struggled to catch awkwardly. Hurried up to kiss his cheek before she was pushing. "Have a great day at work. Catch the bad guys for me. Love you!"

   Jim Hopper decided it was better to just leave the teens alone this morning.

   "Assholes!" Camille called, earning two matching hyena cackles in response. "See if you can get me to play dress up now."

   She sucked in her cheeks, hid clear amusement, and went into the kitchen to get it started because curiosity was just too good.

   It was going to be a long day with these boys.