#it’s just a song about a guy wanting to provide for his bride with what little he has

[blupoh]

analog horror needs to let go of daisy bell I am FED UP

[starsexplodeatnight]

Tf141 guys x Reader

Okay, Sooooo

I don’t know what this is per say, just

John Price x Florist!reader

Kyle Garrick x Dog-walker!reader

John Mactavish x Nurse!reader

Simon Riley x Preschool-teacher!reader

Price first!!!

This old dog is not having a good day. The first time you two meet? He’s looking to order a sympathy piece… a fallen solider. So, he’s not in the best mood when he enters your shop.

Then, you come out the back with your sweet smile. It feels like lip balm on chapped lips, soothing the cracks splintering his heart in this moment.

“Hi, I’m *Name*. Welcome, how can I help you?” With a soft look on your face.

Fuck him, he needs the kindness. You’re so understanding when he tells you, not overly patronizing just… kind. Understanding. You’d have to be, having to make arrangements and funeral pieces as much as you do.

While you’re quickly piecing the arrangement together you talk to him, just a natural flow of conversation. He does pause when you ask. “What do you want in the arrangement? What would you like it to look like?” “Sympathetic?” And you laugh. “Fair enough.”

He likes that laugh.

You hand him the arrangement and tell him how to take care of the flowers to make them last longer. Then give him this sweet, sweet encouraging smile…

Yeah, he comes back a week later. Up front asks: “You want to get dinner Love?” Makes you flush, your co-workers in the back giggling until you shoo them away. “That sounds lovely.”

‘Love really does bloom, doesn’t it?’ He muses.

Generally? Your life together is sweet.

You’re together for about a year before he proposed. He’s a man, he’s old enough to know what he wants. He wants to wake up with you ever morning with the safety of that ring around your finger. That, if anything ever happens to him? He could still provide even in his absence…

You hate it when he talks like that but, accept that you need to be realistic… deep down? It makes you feel loved. A painful, sorrowful, love.

He helps you when he can. Whenever he’s home? He’s at your shop helping you get any extra work done so you can spend as much time together as you can while he’s not deployed.

You need help assembling an arbor for a wedding? He uh- he has carpentry skills… let him help, love. He builds you the sturdiest arbor in the industry!

Deliveries? He’ll run those, he’s got time. He doesn’t mind. Warms his heart a bit to do some good delivering flowers to people… they get so happy when he shows up with flowers.

He helps you set up the flowers at weddings! He also refuses to do anything that puts him within the vicinity of the bride and her party! They mistook him as a stripper once, never again. Never again. He’s a happily married man, thank you very much!

What kind of male stripper wears a hat like his any way? Wrangler jeans and a L.L Bean shirt that’s probably older than the bride!!! It was actually very cute to see how steamed he was after that…

You make sure to give HIM flowers. Most men don’t get flowers until their funeral … You don’t want that to be John. He melts a little when you bring himself home flowers you arranged yourself just for him.

You’ve looked up and seen him leaning on the table with a rose between his teeth. As soon as you made eye contact, he wiggles his brows. It made you crack up, he did it just for that reason. A rare moment of silliness from your John.

Will judge other brides choices when you bring home the files for the weddings you’re hired for. But, nothing will ever compare to your wedding to him in his eyes because your wedding was the best. Ever.

He saved your bouquet, dried it and framed it. Gave it to you as an anniversary present.

He then played your wedding song and you two slow danced in a circle together…. Sigh…

Gaz!:

Kyle was on his morning run when he saw you. Across the street with a few dogs, you looked so fucking happy, that made you look so fucking pretty.

You’re wearing an over sized t-shirt, sweatpants and look frazzled as you wrangle 4 dogs at once. You don’t even notice the Adonis across the street as you try and regain steady footing as the dogs all do their best to keep you on your toes.

Brock the 3 year old yellow lab was a puller… and he is CHONKY so you didn’t have much time to pay attention to anything else.

Kyle now tries to ‘bump’ into you. Timing his run to make a meet cute happen. Fuck him if he’s already done his run and doesn’t see you only to spot you once he’s on his door step sweaty and gross! EVERY TIME!

He’ll try and go again even though his legs are burning. This? This stunt catches the dogs attention, not yours. You’ve got 5 today and they HAUL ASS to go see Kyle. And you’re just dragged to his feet.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! They’re all friendly, I swear!” You wheeze, Kyle laughs. “Don’t worry Luv! S’fine. It’s cute,” He’s not looking at the dogs, despite the Jack Russell ‘Shermie’ making eyes at him.

Ah ha! Kyle has ingratiated himself! He get’s so pumped as soon as he gets home! You invited him to walk with you! ‘Anytime!’ Fuck yeah! He does a fist pump and dances foot to foot.

He finds dogs are a good judge of character and, these dogs? They love you. And you are devoted to them despite them not being yours. He finds those qualities incredibly attractive.

Generally? You two are cute.

He’ll take the high energy dogs on jogs for you when you meet up. He can keep up with them! *subtle flex*

He despite his athleticism? He likes the small, slow dogs. Like the blind, cross eyed Shi tzu ’Louie’ and the grumpy old Bassett ‘Geraldine’

It gave him ample time to walk leisurely and talk to you… You, Gaz and Geraldine went on many walks together.

He love, love, loves whenever you send him a selfie of you and one of the dogs! He’s got a whole folder of them and the newest picture you send? That one is always his newest Lock Screen.

Has worn a dog papoose and, has carried a dog while wearing a dog papoose. He is not ashamed, you thought he looked cute. And he takes all compliments of any kind. Hell yeah he looks cute, thanks baby!

He loves those prissy little toys. ‘Teddy’ the Pomeranian is one of his favorites, Teddy just loves being held. Oh, Kyle looks so attractive holding that spoiled little poof… he’s so sweet and caring with it too. Fuck!

He holds you if one of your regulars dies. Losing an animal is hard, especially when you’d been walking that dog since it was a puppy… he’s here luv, it’s okay. His eyes are misty too because, he cared for that dog too.

He get’s a Bassett stuffed animal, ‘R.I.P Geraldine, you helped me find something worthwhile.’

He proposes to you that night.

You have a little Bassett hound topper on your cake as a small tribute to the dog that helped you get closer…

He will and HAS gotten between you and an aggressive dog. He doesn’t like hurting animals but, fuck if he was going to left anyone hurt his baby and her charges! Tries to beat the piss out of the owner.

His wedding gift to you? A dog. Not just any dog! He wanted to get you one that will keep you safe while he’s deployed and one that will help you handle your charges. So he get’s you a very highly trained Belgian malinois.

Her name is Gracie and she helps you both sleep better at night…

Soap!:

Oh, oh Soap. He get’s lambasted during a mission and gets put into hospital. His nurse? An over tired, over worked, grumpy woman who will not put up with Tom-fuckery during her shift.

In rolls in Soap: a battered pile of tenderized meat who immediately attempts a pick up line while she’s trying to make him comfortable. Oh, it’s going to be a long recovery.

Every goddamn shift! He’d light up every single fucking time you walk into the room! Oh, it makes you want to smother him with a pillow -cute aggression-

It’s not fair! You wanted to hate him! Be the grumpy bitch nurse and go on with your day! But, he makes it hard!!!

He seems so genuinely interested and not some creepy perv hitting on a nurse! He asks you how you are in such a genuine way, he leans in to listen, retains information! He does try and rile you up but, only because he thinks your ‘angry face’ is ‘cute’ the bastard! Who gave him the right to call you cute!?

And he loves, despite how angry you present yourself. You are the gentlest nurse, you care, you’re still a good nurse despite trying to act as jaded as the older nurses. You remember he does like certain foods, you get blood on the first draw and you always know what he needs…

God, it’s tumbling down the slippery slope faster than you ever imagined. You weren’t supposed to catch feelings! That’s not allowed!!! But when he’s finally discharged? He finds you, and offers to walk you home instead of going with his friends to celebrate his discharge.

He knew how much it meant to you for him to acknowledge what you’ve done for him… even behind the tough wall you put up.

He’ll always remember you stayed far past your shift to watch him when he spiked a fever and was critical…

You two are sour and sweet.

He rips those jaded glasses off your face and gives you a big kiss.

You’re kinda just- not codependent! but, something on the healthier side of that. You have a comfortable rhythm. He’ll go out with friends at night, stalling until you come off your shift and he can pick you up.

He gets to spend time with friends, you get to walk home knowing you’re safe at 2 in the morning… even if you have to steady him on the way home after one too many pints.

He has bought a sexy nurse costume for you. He mainly wants you to wear it, he has worn it as well…

He loves your stories! You have the best stories! He’ll sit you on the bar so you can regale his mates that story of that guy! “You know- that guy! The one that got that thing stuck up his ass!” “Which one?”

Sometimes you just, put your hand over his eyes. He looks at you with such fucking love it’s ridiculous. He just pushes further into your hand when you do this.

He will lie down and offer to be your dummy if you need a refresher on anatomy. Wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis.

It’s a personal victory whenever he makes you laugh.

He is lord and savior to the children in the hospital. He will come to visit the children’s care unit, full gear. You find him, and he is their god. They cling to his arms and legs, he’s still moving around, strong enough to keep on going even with 7 kids clinging to him.

He will use his little minions to his own personal advantage. Make them give you, like drawings and paper flowers just to see you smile. And for his own amusement.

It’s like Syd the Sloth and the tiny sloths.

He tells you he can’t wait until you have your own… you never imagined you’d actually ever get baby fever after working as a nurse again… Johnny makes that happen.

He makes you cry when he’s deployed. Wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Oh, lass. Don’t cry! I ‘Ken you can put me back together if I come back in pieces.” He tries to joke, only makes you cry harder…

He holds you a little tighter after that one.

He never wants you to have to put you through that, ever. He cringes every time he remembers he said that… that he thought it was okay to joke about putting you through that.

Marries you after he comes home from deployment. He comes back in better shape this time too. He’s got to be careful now, doesn’t he?

Ghost:

This man? This man falls for a preschool teacher.

He’s just sitting in the park, minding his own business when he see’s you pass with your little class walking behind you like ducklings. Fuck, when was the last time he’d seen someone so pure?

Your preschool was just on the edge of the park and you, with a few other handlers, were letting the kids explore the park under supervision. Their ‘task’ is to find the ‘fauna’ of the park!

Imagine his surprise when more than 4 of the little crotch goblins run up to him specifically. He thought he was scary to the little kids, well apparently not! You rush over to his rescue when you see them using him as a piece of playground equipment.

Oh, he looked so confused. Frozen like a deer in headlights as you stifle your giggle, peeling the 4 year old girl off his lap. “I’m so sorry!” “No, s’fine… cheeky buggers.” The kids all giggle, eager to play with him again.

Ghost then adds it into his schedule to mosey past your school every afternoon. You always know when he does because it’s always at recess and all the kids (except a few) flock to the fence to say hello to ‘Mr Ghost.’

He feels like a celebrity… softens his prickly heart to see all these sweet kids admire him… he thinks so poorly of himself, then he looks at these kids and you? You all look at him with such adoration…. Makes him feel like a human being again instead of a war machine.

And you look at him with such love. You find it sweet he takes his time to come see the kids, graciously accepting their pictures they drew of him.

He was kind of awkward at first, he’d stood ramrod straight like he would with his old drill sergeant and informed you of his record. He wasn’t a creep, he was in the military, and this was his little… respite from all the bile he had to face.

You couldn’t turn him away. You welcomed him every time you saw him over the fence. He remained behind the boundary of the fence and was . He was very grateful you didn’t think he was a creep and trespassed him from walking by.

You two were blissful.

You asked him out on a date. He asked you how many children you wanted… so sweet. lol

He finds you absolutely beautiful, bouncing one of your students on your hip whenever he stops by. He can’t help it. He can’t wait until you have kids of your own, you’ll teach them to be such wonderful human beings. He’ll teach them how to defend themselves and he’ll keep you all safe.

He becomes a bit of a helper around the preschool whenever he’s not deployed. He’s certified in cpr- why not? He mostly just watches the class room to see if any kid is doing anything wrong and preventing anyone from choking.

Kids take turns sitting in his lap whenever he’s sitting. He acts like he doesn’t care but you know he adores it.

Little girls will bring him stuffed animals and by the time class ends he’s surrounded by every stuffed animal in class. He remembers all of their names too. Oh, you can’t help it you get cute aggression with him!

Will walk around with your lipstick prints all over his balaclava. He will dodge envy attempt to wipe them off. They’re his!

After a long day, he’ll help you clean up the class room. In his mind he’s playing this scenario out, like you two are cleaning up after your own kids.

Hates the moms. He hates every single one of of the moms. They’re annoying. They’re coming after his fine ass because they didn’t find a man that treat them right, like he does you and he’s not putting up with it!

Asks you to give him hickeys once. ‘‘But love, yes.’’ After you tell him ‘‘no!’’ “We work in a preschool!” “And? They bite each otha’ all the time.” “Simon!”

He is their god, part 2.

They laugh at all of his stupid jokes, which in turn makes you laugh and now he’s a smug bastard.

Vibes with Bluey, you two watch it together. Aims to be like Bandit when he’s a dad. Takes it as a compliment when you tell him. “You’re pretty much a dead ringer for him already love.” Like, stunned for a second before he’s kissing your temple.

He hates deploying now.

All the kids cry when he does, it’s awful. Then, it makes you cry too. You were trying so hard to be strong and now you’re crying along with them.

Makes him feel like a worse monster than he thought he was.

Tada! Idk what this was! But there ya’ go! Enjoy!

[look-at-the-soul]

WIP FILENAMES TAG

Thank you so much for the tag @there-goes-thefighter 🥰

Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your wip folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

Here is my WIP:

✨ Lenny Miller series “The Runway” (Part 6) request by @l1-l4

Y/N and Lenny go away for a couple of days after rumors are leaked in the press. He just knows the perfect place to hide and provide Y/N with some privacy. Things will soon escalate for them in the intimate department.

✨ “Daydreamer” Robert Fischer (One shot) for my Adele challenge song request by @raincoffeeandfandoms

After reading this song is about Adele daydreaming about her former boyfriend who was bi and she was trying to imagine him being “the perfect man”, I got the idea to Y/N being “daydreaming” about how her life would be perfect if only Robert was actually there for her.

✨ “When we were young” Cillian Murphy Special part for my Adele challenge for my in going series “The Photoshoot” request by @zablife

Cillian and Yael go back in time down to the highway f memories, no spoilers will be posted, don’t worry.

✨ “All I ask” Tommy Shelby x reader (one shot) for my Adele challenge song request by @runnning-outof-time

Still figuring out the plot for this

✨ “Love you in the dark” Tommy Shelby x reader (angst request) and I decided to base this on an Adele song as well request by @l1-l4

As Tommy got Grace pregnant, Y/N decides to move on, but Tommy keeps trying to win her back, there’s a battle between what they feel and what she needs to do.

✨ Cillian x reader “Dance” prompt tagged by @notyour-valentine 🥰

He decided to take it slow with the tequila that night, there would be plenty opportunities to get drunk but he got to celebrate ten years of marriage once.

Spotting the beautiful bride among the people around her, he smiled pleased.

“Mrs. Murphy?” He chuckled at her surprise. “May I have a word with the bride?”

And my on going series:

✨Look at the soul- Part 10

“Is this one of those stories they love to portray in movies right?”

Cillian looked at him confused.

“I’ve known you since you were a noisy teen, don’t try to fool me.” Enda adjusted the glasses on his nose. “You have fallen deep for her and I don’t blame you to be honest… I mean, who wouldn’t?”

Cillian’s eyes moved around the theater without locking eye contact with Enda. He remained quiet.

“It’s alright to move on, it’s been a while.

✨“The Photoshoot” - Part 47

“I just found out I got pregnant, this wasn’t planned but… it feels wrong in some way because I know the hard path you guys have been through.”

At first the news shocked him, but he couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy for his sister so he gave her a reassuring hug.

“Everything will be alright.” He added with a smile.

“I didn’t know how to tell you because I don’t want to hurt yours or Yael’s feelings.”

But he interrupted Orla immediately. “You don’t have to feel guilty about anything… let me deal with this.”

Deep down he knew he was trapped between two walls; feeling happy for his sister and guilty of telling his wife while they were trying to adopt.

“Congratulations.” His hand came to rest on his sister’s head in a tender touch.

Bonus: I’m working on a new Tommy Shelby series, but I want to have at least 4-5 parts before posting.

Oops I got carried away, but lately I’ve had so many ideas and I don’t want to have my drafts piled up…

Tagging no pressure: @notyour-valentine @everythingelseisextra @zablife @theshelbyclan @raincoffeeandfandoms

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Star Wars Visions (Season 1)

Since these eps are all roughly under 20 minutes I'm just lumping my thoughts under the cut for all of the episodes.

THE DUEL

Easily my favorite episode. Art style goes insanely hard. Monochrome palette with the only hints of color being the lights and blades of the lightsabers? Loved it, no complaints. I want more of Ronin's story. Why was he helping people? Why was he collecting the red kyber crystals like Thanos? How would the crystal ward off evil?

TATOOINE RHAPSODY

Least favorite episode by a longshot, honestly. Only redeemer for me was the Boba Fett cameo and the voice work done by Temuera Morrison. Song was awful lol.

THE TWINS

Subtitles did not match the audio/dialogue, so it loses points for that. (From an accessibility standpoint: If you're going to provide proper sub-captioning services it should match up with exactly with what the people are saying; not close words, but the exact words.)

Neat art style with good old ridiculous sci-fi: Karre should not be able to survive in space like that without a suit (or the Force) but we'll ignore it. War of Stars and Shit's Whack Anyways.

THE VILLAGE BRIDE

Loved the clothing and environment designs in this episode. Had a bit of a Ghibli vibe to it. Liked the yellow blade reveal. Just wish we had her name.

THE NINTH JEDI

Absolutely hilarious that when Kara picks up one of the lightsabers there's just. No color. Ghost saber. DLC-looking lightsaber later turns green in a grand fight in the Aerial Temple (which looks kinda like a lightsaber itself). Interesting ep overall I suppose.

T0-B1

All the cute droids you could want in a sometimes-fuzzy art style. Don't mess around on strange spaceships, kids.

THE ELDER

Hoping the awkwardness of the dialogue was just a matter of translation into English. Sounded a little unnatural at times (in my opinion).

That death-blow was incredible though.

LOP AND OCHŌ

Really vibing with the aesthetic for this episode, too.

"Inheritance has nothing to do with blood." coming from the guy who was most reluctant about taking in Lop was great character growth and maturity. You're no less family when you're adopted. Something Ochō's blind quest for power Toa's advancement by siding with the Empire seemed to make her forget...

Ironically symbolic given she's the one who leaves with both her eyes intact, unlike her father who loses his other eye, before the episode ends.

AKAKIRI

Japanese for "red haze", the title really would have been a giveaway for what happened in this episode if I'd looked it up before, and not after. I could still see where it was going with Tsubaki's story even if I didn't with the increasing clarity of the Force visions.

[lorekeepersstory]

Lorekeepers Act One: The Sound of Static

CHAPTER THREE: Encounter

“Summer, I can not stress enough how terrible of an idea this is.”

“Relax, Lore, everything is gonna be fine.”

The two were walking around the local plaza in the dead of midnight, directly toward an gaudy pink ice cream parlor that had closed a few hours prior. Summer was carrying a large black duffel bag over her shoulder. The street lights flickered, bathing the area in a dim, yellowish glow.

“The plan is simple,” Summer recited. “All we gotta do is break in, vandalize the hell outta the place, and sign it with Lucy’s usual tag so she’ll get framed for the crime! What could go wrong?”

“Do you want the list in alphabetical order?”

Summer huffed and fished around in her bag, pulling out her Break-Into-Places Kit™, which was really just a small toolbox. She opened it up and pulled out a strangely shaped metal instrument, and then she knelt at the door of the parlor and began picking the lock.

“What if we set off security alarms?” Lore whispered frantically.

“Oh, please,” Summer rolled her eyes. "If you wanna talk me outta this, you’re gonna have to do better than that. You know this place is old as hell, it hasn’t had the budget for security in years.”

“What if she’s at home tonight? She can’t get framed for vandalism if she has an alibi.”

“I know, and that’s why I made sure to get intel that she’d be out prowling tonight! She’s looking for someone, some guy named Sweet Cakes. Weird.”

“Wh - Why do you know that?”

“There’s nothing you can’t figure out with a little bit of good old fashioned eavesdropping.” Summer replied cheerfully, as the lock clicked and the door swung open with an audible creak.

“Well, here’s a good question for you,” Lore said as the two strode into the store and shut the door behind them. “What if we get caught?”

“And what are the odds of that?” Summer asked, a little too loudly for Lore’s liking.

“Pretty high if you don’t keep your voice down!” he hissed.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Thanks!” Summer whispered, and with that, she pulled a can of spray paint out of her bag, popped the lid, and got to work spraying a number of obscenities and vulgar symbols onto the parlor’s walls. Lore just decided to watch.

Why was he even here? He could’ve always just said “no”. But no, Lore told himself, this is just how things have always been. Summer leads the way, Lore lags behind. He was always the bridesmaid, never the bride; an eternal sidekick in his own life. Maybe he should try asking Summer to do something that he wanted to do. Sure, his hobbies weren’t exactly… exciting in any sense of the word, but they were fun to him, so maybe she’d enjoy it too. It’s not like she’d be mad if he told her he didn’t want to do something she wanted… right?

The sound of radio static began to grow louder in his head.

“Are you doing alright, Lore?” Summer asked, a note of concern in her voice. “You’re kinda shaking a bit.”

He looked down at his hands, watching them tremble for a moment or two.

Oh. So he was.

“Y-yeah,” Lore croaked. “I’m fine. Just… just a little nervous, I guess.”

“Try putting on your music, then. I know that helps a little.” And with that, she turned back to her work.

Yeah. Yeah, that was a good idea. Struggling to cooperate with his jittering hands, Lore fiddled through his pockets, pulling out his phone and earbuds, placing them in his ears. He opened up his music app, flipped through his playlist until he found a suitably calm song, and pressed play.

It did not help. If anything, the additional stimulus the music provided made the grinding, ear-piercing white noise seem even louder than it was before, the assault on his senses making him dizzy and disoriented. Even as Lore began to think that the noise couldn’t be any more deafening, it grew even further in intensity. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to focus on something, anything else… he could barely hear Summer’s familiar voice through the turbulence.

“I think I finally get what you mean when you talk about that static noise, Lore. Whatever the hell that is, it’s annoying as shit.”

Wait… she could hear it, too?

...That was not normal.

That could not be good.

The noise grew louder.

“Summer-”

“Seriously, what the hell is that?”

“Summer-”

“I don’t know how you even live with this, this is just insufferable-”

“Summer, GET DOWN!”

Lore grabbed Summer by the shoulders and pulled her behind the parlor’s counter as a massive, shambling… something burst through the glass storefront, sending tiny shards scattering across the ground.

The two friends looked at each other, wide-eyed with fear. The message they were sending to each other was clear: Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. Don’t even breathe.

And so they didn’t, as the unidentifiable thing that had encountered them stumbled around the parlor, directionless, knocking over stools in its wake.

The sound of radio static hissed and popped and crackled in Lore’s ears, and judging by the way Summer kept wincing, he wasn’t the only one hearing it. Paralyzed by fear, he could only wait as the monster continued to shuffle and shamble about.

Bam! Bam! Bam! In a single instant, faster than either of them could blink, three hands, protruding from arms far too long to be that of a human, slammed into the wall behind them, mere inches above their heads. Summer squealed in terror, and for a long moment, everything was still. The thing, whatever it was, just stopped dead in its tracks, as if it were waiting for something to move. Lore and Summer stayed completely frozen, clutching to each other like a lifeline, trying their hardest to not make a single sound, to utter a single breath, lest whatever had found them discover their presence.

After a long while, the arms tightened their grip on the walls, and the thing began to pull itself up toward the ceiling. Despite his better judgement, Lore dared to look.

What he saw was beyond anything he could comprehend. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. A mess of limbs, an ashen grey mass of countless tangled arms and faces drifting in and out of perceivability, leaving a strange residue everywhere it went; it was a grotesque mockery of logic and reason. It was horrifying to look at, and yet Lore could not seem to tear his eyes from it.

Despite the white noise continuing to scream in his head, looking at the thing, memories began to drift in and out of his subconscious. He remembered being held as a baby. He remembered first meeting Summer, at the top of a tree they had climbed together. He remembered the smell of the pancakes he had had for breakfast the previous morning. It was as if everything he had ever experienced was being pulled from him and toward… that.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the thing pulled itself off the ground and burst through the ceiling with a deafening crash. Even as wood and metal and concrete showered from above them, just barely avoiding caving their skulls in, the two refused to move a single inch until the sound of static grew distant, and then finally fizzled out. Even then, they were frozen with shock for what felt like hours, until Summer finally found the courage to say in a hoarse whisper:

“What the fuck was that?”

Slowly but surely, Lore stumbled to his feet. In his shock, there was but one thought racing through his mind.

Get the hell out of here.

For once, his brain was telling him something useful. Still, his legs were trembling, and he found it tremendously difficult to move. With a shaky breath, he closed his eyes, and tried his hardest to focus on Summer’s hand in his.

One.

He took a step forward.

Two. Three.

Sidestepping the rubble that lay strewn across the floor, Lore carefully tiptoed his way toward the door of the ice cream parlor, with a panicked Summer following in his wake.

Four. Five. Six.

Summer had seemingly decided that talking about what had just happened was less important than getting to safety. Lore thanked his lucky stars. He didn’t think he’d be able to process a conversation after what they had just experienced.

Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

Ten. Ten short steps is what it took to reach the doorway. The fresh air of the outdoors blew against his face, taking his breath away. He and Summer stood still and silent for a moment, holding firm to each other’s hands, as if they were their only tether to reality.

“So,” Summer dared to speak. “...What now?”

That… was a very good question. Lore never thought that far ahead.

Summer is counting on me, he thought.

He never considered that a situation like this would ever come. There was always a clear power dynamic between the two of them. Summer was strong, and Lore was weak. Summer would lead the way, while Lore would follow behind. That’s just the way it was. He was not aware when things had shifted, and he really wished they hadn’t, as he was just as clueless as her.

Still, he needed to say something.

“...Home. Let’s go home and-” he began.

“Wait.” Summer interrupted, her grip on his hand becoming even tighter than before.

Lore, caught off guard, took a moment to reorient himself. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings, what little he could sense. Despite the ringing in his ears, he could make out a sound.

Engines. The low hum of car engines, getting louder and louder by the second.

Someone was coming their way.

Lore’s eyes snapped open, and he looked toward Summer with confusion, hoping to find any sort of confidence, some reassurance that things would be okay. He found none. Summer was just as afraid as he was.

All they did was stand there, dumbfounded, as a fleet of jet black cars and vans raced toward them, screeching to a halt directly in front of them, leaving the two friends surrounded.

The doors opened, and a slew of men in black suits and sunglasses emerged from the vehicles. Some began setting up strange equipment, others started cleaning up the rubble that littered the area, while two of the men approached Lore and Summer with a sense of purpose that made Lore uncomfortable.

The men stepped out of the shadows, and Summer gasped.

With them now close enough to make out even the slightest detail, Lore could see that they had no faces. They were all identical, with slicked back hair and sunglasses resting on nonexistent noses, looking as though the flesh of their faces had been sewn over their lips.

He got the feeling that it was going to be a long night.

[tinydeskwriter]

Traitor-Part Three

singer!reader

PART ONE; EXTRA ONE; PART TWO; EXTRA TWO

summary: time passed, but some feelings never go away…

word count: 2561

warnings: it’s a sad happy ending🤷🏻‍♀️

A/n:I know I said I would post it tomorrow, but I am kind of anxious for you guys opinion.  

Sooo, here is Part Three, I honestly hope no one will be disappointed, I choose to go with my original idea, and follow the path I always imagined,  I am sorry if some of you guys don’t feel like it… about a feel messages I received: Harry isn’t a bad guy, he isn’t toxic or shitty or treated her bad, he’s just human and made a series of bad decisions. 

I confess that I am a little insecure with what I wrote in this part.

As Traitor is coming to an end, I would really appreciate if you guys would send me ideas of what to write next, and remember: No idea is a shit idea.

I hope you guys enjoy it. xx Caro.

TRAITOR- PART THREE: After all this time?

2026

"Is this weird?" She asked as they danced to some sad old Taylor Swift’s song, they weren't looking at each other, her face was resting on his shoulder and his head was slightly tilted towards her. "Us here, after all this time?"

Harry sigh as he thought of the answer.

The dance floor was almost empty, most of the wedding guests had already left or in the case of those who are staying for the whole weekend of celebrations, retired to their teepees, those who stayed were just the closest friends an of the newlywed couple—most are sat around talking and drinking, probably waiting for a more dancing beat—, who would probably continue enjoying the party until dawn before Survivors Breakfast is served.

The wedding had been music festival themed. Y/n’s idea, of course.

An immense marquise of De Gournay printed fabric had been erected to provide shade for the tables. The dance floor had been set up outside —protected from drones by pretty white paper flags with laser cuts of the couple’s names, doves and flowers, and large greenery and white flowers garlands, fairy lights giving just a magical touch— in front of a stage where many of the musical guests had performed throughout the day, offering tribute to the couple—Justin Bieber sung four songs, John Legend serenaded the couple on their first dance, Zayn and Niall took the stage and sung old 1D songs was well as a few of their solos, Elton John offered a song to the bride, Mark Ronson DJed for Lady Gaga, Miley Cyrus and Dua Lipa, who took the mic at different times during the day, Miley even forced Y/n to the stage with her to sing their featuring song; the DJ and band the married couple hired had almost no work to do as the guests got so excited in just having fun on stage performing for friends—. Teepees had been set up around the property as accommodation for the guests who stayed for the three days of celebration.

A merry-go-round and a Ferris wheel had also been set up, as well as a huge inflatable slide, and the adults were enjoying it as much as the children.

Love and Angel were still running excitedly across the lawn with some older cousins, with no signs of wanting to go to bed anytime soon, Niall was running after them like the overgrown child he was —Y/n blamed this on Anne for allowing them to take a long nap in the afternoon, and all the sugar they ate during the party, they would probably accompany the adults at the early breakfast—.

"Have I told you that you are the most beautiful bride?" He didn’t answered her original question. "I always knew you would be." Harry said, making her smile against the fabric of his custom-made dark green Gucci suit.

How many times had they not talked about a wedding? How many times had they not planned? How many times had she told him about her dream dress that Ale would make?

How many times has it felt like they would never make it to this moment?

It took Y/n a entire year of therapy before she got to the point where she was able to sit down with Harry and talk.

And they talked.

They talked about what happened, about the cheating, about the cruel breakup.

They just talked about them and how eight years had ended in such a bad way. Harry cried, his arms around Y/n, as she ran her hand on his back. He apologized for the millionth time, he said he knew he didn't deserve her or her forgiveness, and how disgusted he was with himself for what he had done.

Harry told her how he'd thrown up after the first time it happened.

How he'd let himself be seduced by all of the attention, how he'd missed her, and how guilty he.

The internal conflict for everything, how he wanted to tell her everything after she asked the first time, but he just knew that she would never forgive him, he was so afraid that she would leave him. In the end it made no difference. He told her how he'd listened to the wrong comments instead of listening to the right advices. Recreational drugs and alcohol played a part in his bad choices too.

In a lapse of judgment he did the worst thing he could have done in his life: He chose to break the heart of the woman he loved in an attempt to protect his own. Harry convinced himself that he could turn lust into love, but every minute with Olivia was a minute he remembered that he had broken Y/n’s heart.

He had lost the woman who owned him heart and soul since he was eighteen, and he knew he would never recover, he would never love someone else again.

And it wasn't anyone's fault but his own.

Harry wanted to die when she said how even against all her principles, she would have stayed with him if he had handled the situation differently, he bitterly regretted not talking things through, not listening to her, allowing her to leave that day, how he wished could go back in time —he was the love she had loved most, and she would never love anyone that way, she said—, and it killed him a little on how she used past tense.

Following her therapist advises—and Michael’s, he later learned— she apologized for all her petty revenge, the EP, the digs, all the times she tried to hurt him with words, even the children's names, though she genuinely loved the names she choose,—Harry admitted that it had been painful at first, Love and Angel, his nickname for she and hers for him, Helene, the most beautiful woman in the world, and Apollo, the golden Sun god, their ‘codenames’ from the summer they spend in Italy after he proposed—.

He got some hope on for them after their conversation, maybe not that moment, but in the future. For the time being he accepted her offer of friendship and the chance of co-parenting their children—he would accept anything just for the chance of being in her life again, honestly—. Harry even bought a house in Montecito just to be closer, spending more time there than in London.

And then he was introduced to Michael. Michael, who was no longer just a friend, but Y/n's boyfriend of a few months. And the way they smiled at each other killed him a little bit more on the inside.

Y/n was falling in love for the actor.

He recognized the signs, she looked at Michael the same way she had once looked at him.

Like he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky.

How he wished that moment to have a time machine, he would give away all his money for one, just to be able to go back in time and stop himself from doing the worst thing he ever did in his life.

‘She’s that kind of woman, you know?’ he remembered Niall telling him that day in April 2021, after he waived his custody rights, ‘you either stays by her side the rest of your life, or you regret leaving.’ the Irishmen hadn’t being angry with him, his old friend and bandmate pitied him. When he asked why, Niall, who saw Y/n as a younger sister, wasn’t mad at him, the other man just shrugged, ‘She’s no longer yours, I think this is punishment enough.’

Niall’s word hunted him as he watched the woman of his dream, the mother of his children, the love of his existence, take another man as her husband.

"I always knew I would dance with you in a wedding dress." He commented with a forced smile, and Y/n's heart tightened a little at the heartbreak she heard in his voice. "I just never imagined it would be at your wedding with someone else." He smiled sadly at her, as their eyes met. "I still had hope."

"Harry..." She tried to say, pity clear in her eyes.

He just rolled his emerald eyes at her playfully. "Don't worry My Heart, I would never try to come between you two," the man said, "but my hopes won't die until one of us do, even if it takes decades, know that I'll be here." Harry gave her one of his boyish smiles, making him look younger than his thirty-two years. "No matter how much time passes, you own my soul, and I don't think that will change just because you married another man."

Y/n had become Mrs. Michael B Jordan that afternoon.

They married in the 14 acres estate she owned in Chatsworth on top of a hill, in the presence of four hundred friends.

The bride wore Dior. She looked like a heavenly vision in the organdie princess gown costume-designed for her by Maria Grazia Chiuri— she wore other two dresses after, but Harry would never forget how she looked when she waked down the aisle— the seven-meter long veil she worn had been fastened to her head with golden birds—the birds still adorned Y/n's hair, but the veil had long since been removed—. She carried a bouquet of lilies of the valley and orange blossoms, like British tradition demanded —Niall’s girl caught the bouquet later that afternoon—.

All the decor was idyllic and delicate and fun, something expected from a bride like Y/n.

Denzel Washington was the officiant at the wedding at Michael’s request and Elton John played the piano during the ceremony, with Taylor Swift singing ‘Lover’ during the bride's entrance.

Niall and Zayn shared Y/n's 'Maid of Honor' role with great humor—the two walked down the aisle in light blue suits— not unlike the color used on the bridesmaids' dress worn by Hailey, Bella, Kendall, Gigi, Kylie and Dakota, they walked in with a few of Michael’s cousins and closest friends.

In the absence of a father and mother, the singer was walked down the aisle by two of her dearest older male presences in her life: Pedro and Oscar.

Y/n looked up to him, watching him with those beautiful eyes, that still held the power to melt him inside. She seemed to want to say something, but they are interrupted as she opened her mouth.

"Life?" Michael called her. Her husband now. He was smiling, carrying the golden copy of Y/n in one of his strong arms, Love was holding the man's other hand and Angel was following them, the two children had sleepy smiles, but the little girl in Michael’s arms looked alert. "Honey woke up, and wants mummy."

Harry let her go, smiling at the small group, Love quickly came to him asking to be lifted, while Y/n took her youngest daughter in her arms.

He smiled at the little girl in Y/n's arms as she waved at him with a smile. Honey was completely Y/n, there was nothing Michael in her face, if not for the coloring that was a mix of her parents.

Harry had drowned in a bottle of tequila when he got the news of Y/n's second pregnancy.

It was Love who let the news slip.

The reality that Y/n might never be his again became more and more real.

The engagement weeks later was like a knife to his heart, but he smiled and joked when Y/n showed him the ring—'It's smaller than the one I gave you,' and she rolled her eyes, the comment not even bothering her, 'not all are narcissistic and show off like you H'—.

He watched the woman he loves become a mother again, this time to a baby that wasn't his.

Honey called him Uncle Arry —they corrected her after the occasion when the little girl called him 'Daddy', because that's what she heard her older siblings call him, they all laughed, but Harry felt his own heart skip a beat—, it's impossible for him not to love the little girl, not only is she the adored little sister of his children, but also because she is a part of Y/n.

He felt Love settle on his shoulder, her arms around his neck, the tiny hand playing with the end of her hair as she let out a sleepy sigh.

Angel didn't look much better, practically sleeping upright against his stepfather's leg.

"I think I'll take Love and Angel to bed," Y/n said looking at the older children.

"Leave it to me," Harry said before she could continue, gesturing to Angel and taking his son in his other arm. "You stay and enjoy the party, I'll take care of the little monsters." He assured with a smile.

"Are you sure?" the woman asked with a frown. "I can..."

"Yes, Y/n, I'm sure, I'm their father too, and today is your wedding party, you deserve to enjoy it." The two looked at each other for a second before Y/n returned the smile.

"Okay, thanks H." She said approaching and kissing each of the twins good night, "Are you coming back?"

"Maybe I'll take the opportunity and sleep with them already." Harry commented, the truth is that he had already exhausted his dose of watching Y/n and Michael being a happy couple.

He was honestly glad she was happy, but he was miserable himself.

The singer walked away with the children in his arms, his head lowered looking where he was walking, while listening to Love murmur how the day had been splendid and Angel was already drooling on his suit.

"H?" He heard Y/n's voice call out to him, and turned around.

She came alone, and he could see Michael on the dance floor dancing with Honey.

"Yea?"

The woman stopped a short distance away from him.

"I want from the bottom of my heart for you to be happy, I still love you, and the possibility that you are unhappy kills me," she said with a wistful smile and teary eyes, "you are my twin flame, and I think what we were meant to be, but we did it wrong, and our time passed."

"I could never be unhappy having you guys in my life." He said with a practiced smile, gesturing to the children in his arms.

"It's okay to let me go and love someone else." Y/n said fondly.

"It would be difficult to find someone who could measure up to you in my eyes,” He said smiling affectionately. "You set a high bar.”

He choose not to say how she was it for him, how there would be no other woman in his heart after her, apart from the one he had in his arms that moment.

"You're a good man Harry, you do stupid things sometimes, but you're a good man." She said with a smile, accepting what he said, and letting go.

They smiled at each other.

"You should go back to Michael and Honey." He pointed with his chin somewhere behind her. "And I have to get these two to bed, they're really getting heavy."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"I'll let you go then." The woman backed away, turning her back under the emerald gaze.

Harry watched her return to her husband's side, and as the two began to dance with Honey between them.

How he longed to be in Michael's shoes.

But he was paying for his sins.

She belonged in another man's arms now, and it was his own fault.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Five: This Will Be The Day (Finale)

Warning: this series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing.

Summary: Everyone has returned but the battle for humanity against Thanos wages on.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You wake in a coughing fit, the rubble surrounding you sears your lungs. “Natasha.” You call into the rocks and flickering lights. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Natasha!”

“Here, I’m here.” Her voice is rough, pained.

You push yourself toward the sound, through the dust you can make out her hair. “You ok?”

“Mostly.” She’s laying face up, a few scratches visible.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I can’t move.” She nods at the piece of collapsed cement. “My leg is broken, you should go.” Nat says, staring up at the sky.

“I should’ve never let you go to Vormir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You try uselessly to budge the blockage over her leg.

“What is Vormir?” She asks.

“Doesn’t matter.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you remember?”

“The red room.”

“Do you remember getting out?”

“No one gets out.” She shakes her head.

“We did.” You inform her. “Yelena did.”

“Yelena?” Her gaze finds yours. “You know Yelena? Is she here?”

“Yes, I know her.” You press your lips together. “She’s not here though.”

“The rest of this building is coming down. If you were really trained in the red room you have to know that.” Natasha frowns. “You need to leave.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t be a hero.” She whispers. “Let me go, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” You argue. “I won’t do it again.”

“What about Yelena?” Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“She’ll understand.” This is what she would do.

“Hey,” Natasha pushes herself up on her elbows. “Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if a giant man in a metal suit carrying a smaller man and a raccoon appeared behind your head?”

You turn toward the man in question. Scott Lang. “It would be a good thing.”

———————————————————————

Natasha is taken somewhere safe. She can’t fight.

As the strange doctor and his disciples start opening portals you see that you’re not alone. Through one comes Alexei, Melina and Yelena.

Her white suit is pristine, dirty blonde hair held away from her face in ponytails.

On shaky legs you move toward her, taking your rightful place at her side. Facing what lies ahead together.

Yelena catches your hand, “this isn’t much of a welcome home.”

You can’t help but laugh, “pretty cool way to die though.”

“Very,” she agrees. “Natasha?”

“She is a little worse for wear.” You warn her, “but alive…and safe.”

Yelena gives you a watery smile, squeezing your fingers. “And you?”

“A tower fell on me.”

“Of course it did.”

Thanos’ army is nothing to scoff at. Giant airborne creatures hover over his troops. Larger monsters stand in their ranks, space ship overhead ready to destroy.

Steve is almost unrecognizable, covered in dirt, his shield battered and broken. But you know it is time when he gives the order. “Avengers, assemble.”

Fighting is easy, it’s what you know. What you were trained to do. Fight to stay alive, fight for what you believe in, fight with Yelena; for Yelena.

The two of you move together like a well oiled machine. Like riding a bike, even after all this time you could never forget.

“We’ve got company to the left.” Yelena says through gritted teeth, kicking at the alien creature beside her. Dropping an empty cartridge to the ground and reloading her gun seamlessly, firing several shots.

Despite everyone’s best efforts they just keep coming. “Do we have a plan here?”

“Getting there,” Steve replies. “Anybody have eyes on the gauntlet?”

“Yeah!” Clint rushes past you with the glove in hand. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Get it out of here!” Tony insists.

“What’s happening?” Alexei shouts over the chaos. “I still don’t have ear piece.”

“Just keep their army away from that guy in the tank top.” You grunt, falling backwards from the force of one of Thanos’ soldiers colliding with you.

“We have to get the stones back where they came from.” Rhodey reminds everyone.

“The time space tunnel is completely collapsed.” Tony points out.

“That isn’t our only time machine.” Lang cuts in.

“Does anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Captain America’s voice hums through the ear bud.

“I do,” a female voice chimes in. “But you’re not going to like where it’s parked.”

After grappling for far too long, you manage to knock the creature from you. Using your knife to dismember it.

“Next time, we get the cool laser guns.” Yelena yells loud enough to be heard by everyone on the network, as she hauls you to your feet.

“Friday, please add laser guns for the ballerinas to my grocery list.” Stark gives his smart ass remark.

“What’s the word on the van?” Rhodey wonders.

“Working on it now.”

The ship at Thanos’ disposal begins raining fire, no regard for their own troops.

“We’ve got people going down!” Rocket hollers.

“Clint,” you call into the microphone. “How’s that gauntlet?”

“Moving down the field.” The archer replies, “I’m alright too, thanks for asking.”

“Good.” You bite back a smile.

Hell continues breaking loose around you. Glowing circular orbs unfold in the air above, providing coverage from the missiles. You’re not sure if this is winning or losing. It feels like a bit of both.

———————————————————————- Thanos and his army are dusted away. Leaving you surprised and still swinging as the shock wears off.

You won. You. Won.

And you lost.

You lost Tony Stark. The man you’d barely known, but offered you clarity that will stay with you forever.

You lost the Natasha you’d come to know over the five years that Yelena was gone. Some parts of the redhead stripped away for the price of the stone.

But she’s still here. Waiting in the wings to be greeted by Yelena and their little makeshift family. You share a look of understanding when your eyes meet over the blonde’s shoulder.

Others come, Banner refuses to leave her side. Despite the fact that Natasha doesn’t remember him.

Clint falls to the ground at her feet. Breaking down at the sight of his friend, his family alive and well. She doesn’t remember him either, but welcomes him into her arms somewhat awkwardly.

Her expressions flicker from happy to overwhelmed. Hesitant to open herself up to the possibility that she is wanted, needed and loved.

Too confusing for the girl who only remembers the red room. Adjusting to this life will take time.

Everyone begins clearing out, their jobs finished. Rushing home to reunite with their loved ones. Tomorrow will bring about new challenges. The world is in shambles, and so are you.

Steve decides that he should be the one to return the stones. His goodbye tells you that he has a bit more in mind. But this is his life. His choices, not yours.

“Well, I guess we should head out too.” You say after a while. Your car is gone, lost in the wreckage from the explosion.

The setting sun is eclipsed, causing all of you to turn your gaze upwards just in time to see the ship’s door open.

“Is that a raccoon?” Melina asks, pointing toward Rocket.

“Do you want a ride or not?” Rocket shoots back.

“Not the avenger’s super jet, but it will do huh?” Alexei smiles, this is his dream.

“This is better!” A man’s voice carries down from the interior.

“Well,” Yelena shrugs, “if you say so.” She leads the pack up the ramp and onto the ship.

“Fanny and the pigs will be expecting dinner soon.”

“How are they?” Melina asks, “have you been taking care of them.”

“That was me!” Alexei says proudly, bending at the waist to gather Natasha into his arms. “Aye honey,” he grunts, hoisting her up. “You are only little girl in my heart.”

Nat pushes against his chest in retaliation.

“Do you mind if I hitch a ride too?” Clint asks.

“The extra stop will cost you,” Nebula stares blankly at him from her seat.

“They always do.” He remarks, trotting up the ramp.

Bruce paces at the foot of the metal grate, watching the rest of you load up. “I gotta hang back, make sure Steve gets there in one piece.”

“After what happened with Scott the first time I’d say that’s probably the best bet.” You agree, standing near the entrance.

“Yeah,” he smiles, kindly. “Keep me posted on Nat, will ya?”

“I will,” you return the smile.

“I’ll see you around.”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

The captain of the ship introduces himself as Star-lord, and after a moment without response, Quill.

“Any requests?” He asks, finger hovering over the control panel.

Alexei creeps over to the younger man, quietly relaying a message.

“Alright,” Quill nods. Stroking the keys until a familiar set of notes ring out.

“A long, long time ago-“ The singer croons.

You let out a chuckle.

“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance. And maybe they'd be happy for a while.”

“We’re really doing this?” Yelena puts a hand to her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

“But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step.” The melody carries on.

“It’s your song.” Natasha turns to her sister.

“I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride.” Melina’s eyes are far away, carried back to their years in Ohio. Before the world had been so cruel.

“Something touched me deep inside, the day the music-“

“Died.” Yelena joins in, lulling her head to the side to gage your reaction.

You sigh, all of this beyond surreal. But you allow yourself to live in this moment, because you might not get another. “So bye, bye Miss American Pie…”

“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.” The roaring chorus of voices fills the silence you’ve grown used to. Fills the parts of you that were empty for so long. “And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye. Singin', “this’ll be the day that I die.”

“This’ll be the day that I die.” Yelena sings, her face alight with a childlike glee.

——————————————————————-

Melina, Natasha and Alexei stay with you for a while. A few weeks as Natasha heals and becomes acclimated to her life.

She claims to hate the attention, but deep down you know she’s full of it.

The Ohio house is bursting at the seams with five adults, nine pigs and one dog.

That isn’t enough to keep visitors at bay. Namely Clint, his wife Laura and their three children.

Things feel a bit off when everyone begins moving out. Alexei, Melina, and their pigs return to the farm outside of Saint Petersburg.

Natasha finds herself drawn to New York, with Bruce and the makeshift building he’s using as a lab.

You adjust to the steady thrum that is daily life, with Fanny and Yelena.

After dinner you load the dishwasher, drying your hands on the nearby tea towel before selecting a cycle.

“So how does it feel?” Yelena asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hmm?” You turn to face her.

“Being a hero.” She clarifies, a smile playing at her lips.

“I’m not-“

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. You saved the world.” Yelena narrows her eyes at you.

“I did it for you.” You say simply, because it’s true.

Yelena closes the space between you, “why?”

“You know why.” You whisper as she cups your face in her hands, gently stroking her thumb over your cheek. “It’s ok if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“I’d do more for you, and worse.” She assures you. “But do you really want to spend the rest of your life fumbling around feelings in the dark when you could have someone who-“

“I want you. I only ever want you.” You beckon her closer. “Anyway I can have you, that will be enough for me.”

Sometimes wires get crossed and you want things you never have before. And she provides them before you have a chance to ask. You give back to her tenfold, so that neither glass is ever empty. That is love. True love, the only way you’ve ever known it.

“I am yours…in every way a person can belong to another.” Yelena breathes, “and then some.”

Series taglist: @jeyramarie @freeshavocadoooo @ilovewinter101 @3and30aresoultwins @yelenabelovv @miphas-trident @1800-fight-me

If you loved this series as much as I did, you can check out the prequel here!

[sylvies-chen]

You Make Me Feel So Young

Summary: Tim shows up at Lucy's apartment after struggling with some guilt, and finally gets that dance she'd saved for him.

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6K

A/N: For day 1 of the Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 organized by @therookiebook!! I'm so excited to participate, I hope you guys like this oneshot <3

AO3 link

++++++++

He feels guilty.

Lucy knows he does, even before he tells her. After everything at Angela’s wedding went down, after she and Jackson had been taken and nearly died, after the dust had settled from that entire stressful day, Lucy can feel the guilt oozing out of him.

Only Tim Bradford shows up at her door to talk about it, and it’s about the last thing she expects to happen.

Like, ever.

“Hey,” he blurts out as soon as she opens the door.

“Hi.” Lucy doesn’t know what to say but she knows the hand that’s holding onto the edge of her door feels numb all of a sudden and her breath gets caught in her throat.

“Can I come in?” Tim asks, trying to seem nonchalant. Lucy sees right through it, knows that him coming here alone, out of the blue, must mean something’s wrong. But she doesn’t say anything because she knows Tim takes a while sometimes to be able to open up. So instead, she nods.

“Yeah, of course.” Jackson’s out, so she lets Tim in without hesitation. Not that it’d matter if he were here, really, but she sees that broken, guilt-ridden look in Tim’s eyes and knows it’s best that they’re alone.

He plays it cool at first— out of self-preservation, she thinks— and looks around the apartment as she lets him in.

“This place looks a lot nicer than the last time I saw it,” he starts out.

“Yeah, well Cujo’s not around to tear up pillows anymore so I’d say it’s a big improvement,” she jokes meekly.

His hands are shoved in his pockets stiffly as he walks around her living room, glancing over to Jackson’s bedroom.

“Jackson’s not here?”

“No, he went to check up on Angela. I’m surprised you aren’t there too,” she adds.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s where you’ve been for the past week,” Lucy explains simply, glancing at him expectantly and waiting for him to talk. Not this kind of talk, not small talk or dancing around what he really needs to get off his chest, but for him to actually, really talk.

All does is stand by her couch, less than ten feet away from her, and avoid her gaze. She swears she can see his fists tensing up in the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

“I wasn’t.” She was . “I just know how worried you were about her when she was taken. I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave her side.”

“Just making up for what I didn’t do the first time, I guess,” he grumbles under his breath.

Lucy sighs, cutting their small talk short and getting to the point. “Why are you really here, Tim?”

Her bluntness surprises him, she thinks, because he blinks at her. “What?”

“Why are you here?” She repeats. “You’ve never shown up at my place randomly while off shift. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d remembered I live here. I know this past week has been intense but clearly you need something or else you wouldn’t have come here. So would you just tell me whatever it is you want to say so that I can help you?”

He exhales quietly, his chest shaking as it falls. “It’s my fault. Angela and Jackson nearly died, she nearly lost her baby, they were put in danger at her own damn wedding, and it’s… it’s my fault.”

“No, no,” she replies sympathetically, shaking her head. “It’s not. What happened to them happened because of La Fiera, not you.”

“I was her man of honour,” he explains with a dry and slightly sarcastic chuckle. “Where’s the honour in failing to protect the bride?”

“If you really felt that, you wouldn’t have come here. You knew,” she tells him, her voice determined and fierce. “You knew I wouldn’t let you sit here and feel sorry for yourself. If you wanted to sit around feeling sorry for yourself you would have gone to a bar, alone. But you came here, which means somewhere deep down you know you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

For one of the only times since Lucy’s known him, Tim Bradford is speechless. He looks for words but finds none, huffs, and sits down on her couch, fiddling nervously with his thumbs. Her heart sinks at the sight of it. This guilt of his isn’t going away with anything she says, she knows that now. Healing takes time, so all she can really do is just be there for him.

She sits down next to him on the couch, leaving only an inch of space. “You don’t have to carry the weight of everything, you know,” she continues gently. “You take on so much, you don’t always have to feel so responsible for every bad thing that happens. That’s no way to live.”

“I’m a cop,” he shrugs painfully. “I became a cop because I wanted to keep helping people, protecting them. So sure, it might make me a more serious person, but I do it because it’s supposed to be what I do best.”

“I get that. But no one’s perfect. I’m not perfect, even with all of your Tim tests,” she teases meekly. “That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. You fought hard to get both of them back and you did. You did that. Angela’s home now, she and the baby are safe and alright. That’s what matters.”

He looks at her, stunned but greatly appreciative. “Thanks,” he offers, slightly begrudgingly, after a moment. “I just... thanks .”

“I think I have something of yours,” she tells him gently, changing the subject to lighten the mood. Because if she can’t assuage his guilt then at the very least, she can make him feel better; feel happy again.

Tim’s brows scrunch up, sending a confused look her way. Lucy wordlessly moves to pull out her phone, connecting it to the small wireless speaker on the coffee table. The buttons crisply click as she turns up the volume, pressing play on the first ballad she finds in her list of varied songs. (But her taste in music isn’t actually as diverse as she’d like and is really just filled with K-pop tracks).

The music streams through the speaker and throughout the apartment, audible but still quiet so as not to disturb the other tenants. Tim stays seated as Lucy stands up, still confused but shifting to the edge of his seat as if being drawn to her by an unnamed force.

Lucy finally extends her open palm, giving him a shy but cheeky grin. “Your dance, Officer Bradford?”

Realization hits and Tim’s shoulders relax a little. “I don’t know, I’m not in the mood for dancing right now.”

“Come on,” she pleads. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise. Or, at the very least, it’ll give you something to tease me about at work.”

Tim gives a hearty chuckle, smiling widely as he accepts her hand. It makes Lucy smile too. Why shouldn’t it? He’s always so surly and serious, making him laugh would make anyone proud and giddy. Right?

“Alright. After you, Officer Chen,” he replies as she pulls him off the couch and onto the rug in her living room. His hand is warm. They’re calloused, and bigger than hers to the point where her fingers get swallowed up in his as he gives her hand a squeeze. But god, they’re so warm and safe . Her mind can’t stop coming back to that observation, no matter how much she knows she shouldn’t.

Tim’s other hand finds her waist, his grip gentle. Her hand flies to his chest, pulling him in until her chin is inches away from resting on his shoulder.

Up until now, space hasn’t really been an issue for them. The only time there’d been this much physical contact between them was last year when Caleb had buried her alive. Even then, the situation had allowed for a special exception. She’d needed all the physical and emotional support she could get at that moment, and Tim had provided it for her.

Now though, there's no exception, no special circumstance, no excuse. They’re dancing while wrapped up in each other solely because they want to be, and that change is enough to terrify Lucy. She doesn’t move though, only keeps swaying to the music and letting out small, shaky breaths.

What can she say? She never was one to back down from something that scared her.

“You’re a good dancer,” Lucy points out quietly.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” he replies, his breath catching onto her neck and sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

“Is it safe to say you’re enjoying yourself? You feel more relaxed, I daresay you’re having fun,” she tries teasing.

“I’m just surprised,” he counters. “I was prepared for my toes to endure some serious stomping.”

“Oh please, like my tiny toes could ever harm you.” Her nose scrunches playfully as she feigns a threatening look, which makes Tim smile again. What is it with that smile of his killing her softly?

“I don’t know, you’re a lot tougher than you look.”

“Was that a compliment?” She asks teasingly.

“Don’t tell Nova, she’ll get jealous,” he jokes back, continuing to sway to the music.

“Yeah but I bet she’d love this,” Lucy remarks. In her head, she adds that the line between herself and Nova is getting blurred but it goes unspoken and, eventually, ignored.

“Nova’s not the only one,” he risks replying. “You’re right. This is… nice .”

Tim leans back a little to meet her eye, the swaying decelerating until they’re standing in her living room. Alone. With an intense and inviting gaze piercing into her eyes.

“It is,” Lucy agrees. Her voice is barely audible and before she can think twice, she blurts out probably the worst thing she could ever think of: the thing she means with every fiber of her being. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

She really does mean it. She wants to stay there forever, where everything feels good and safe and right . Only she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, per se. To her surprise though, he doesn’t react poorly to it. Instead, he flashes the smallest smile and nods in agreement, swallowing hard. "Me too."

He looks so young like that, something juvenile and exciting radiating off of him like a breath of fresh air. For a second, she almost thinks he’s the same age as her.

And oh fuck , something just clicks after that.

His lips part only slightly, his eyes glimmering with something intense and hopeful. Her skin is on fire, her heart is racing, and every neuron in her brain is telling her to look away but she can’t. She can’t escape his eyes. Lucy doesn’t know what this thing between them is, only that one minute, they’re dancing and the next, they’re… doing something else. The swaying stops and everything comes to a glaring halt as the song starts to come to a gradual end. They’re left with nothing to do but stand there and look at each other. It’s almost like he’s listened to her and that somehow, he’s made them become completely frozen in time so that maybe, just maybe, they really could stay here forever.

Admittedly, terrifyingly, Lucy would have no complaints about that.

They’re holding each other too— god , she almost forgot about his hands on her wait, on her back. They’re strong and massive and yet so gentle. And before she knows it, they’re pulling her in closer and closer.

His face is inches apart from her, their lips so close. She shouldn’t be thinking about his lips, about any of the things she’s feeling right now, but she can feel his breath and it makes it impossible to think of anything else. Her chest is almost pressed against his and she wonders if Tim can feel the shaky rise and fall of her chest against his.

They get closer again, and closer, and closer…

Then, the door clicks and swings open, sending her and Tim jumping apart.

The moment ends before it ever has a chance to start.

“Hey, I’m back,” Jackson calls out as he walks in, checking his phone. “So fire up the next episode of Love Island and put in the popcorn because I am ready to g—”

Jackson stops mid-sentence once he looks up from his phone and finds Lucy, standing next to Tim as they both look away from each other with flushed cheeks and awkward coughs from their throats. The music on her phone has stopped now, thankfully, but the light from the speaker still flashes to indicate it’s on and Jackson soaks in the whole scene. He meets it with confusion though, his brows furrowing.

“Uhh… What’s going on here?”

“I was just about to leave,” Tim announces, looking down at the floor as he makes a beeline for his coat.

“Right, yeah,” Lucy nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess?”

“Yeah, of course. Uh, bye,” he replies awkwardly, his eyes meeting Lucy’s one last time with something that she daresay looks like disappointment— like yearning. Jackson’s still there though, and so the moment is short-lived. Tim’s hands fly back into his pockets, just as stiff as they were when he first came over, and he leaves. The door shuts behind him abruptly.

Lucy stares at the door where Tim used to be, her shoulders sagging in a disappointment of her own, but she turns to see Jackson staring at her and knows she has no way to explain… well, to explain whatever the hell just happened.

“You want to tell me why Tim was here?”

“He felt guilty about what happened with you and Angela,” she explains, a little defensively. “I was just talking it out with him.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jackson nods with an unconvinced laugh, “that’s why you two jumped apart like frogs as soon as I came in.”

“We did not jump apart ,” she protests.

“Ok, if you say so,” he concedes, his hands up in surrender. “Besides, whatever you two were doing here, I just—… don’t want to know.” He lets out a small chuckle after that, shaking his head as he moves to grab a pack of unpopped popcorn out of the cupboard and put it in the microwave.

“It was nothing,” she mumbles quietly. “Nothing happened.”

It’s the first real lie she’s told that night. Jackson drops it after that though, and she sighs to herself as she sits back down on the couch.

She closes her eyes as the microwave buzzes and Jackson starts to ramble about his visit with Angela, slowly transporting herself back to that dance with Tim.

Maybe she’s wrong for this, maybe she’s completely insane and unprofessional. But as she plays it over in her head, her own words ring through her head and she realizes that maybe she really did want to stay like that with Tim forever.

Oh, screw it . She knows she did. It’s not a fact she can necessarily scream out to the world, but she did.

To Lucy, there are much worse things to want to be.

[helnjk]

Crazier - F.W.

Fred Weasley x fem!reader 

This was written for @vivianweasley ‘s 400 writing challenge! I used the song Crazier (by Taylor Swift) from the Hannah Montana movie hihi. Congrats on the milestone lovely ❤️ I hope you enjoy 🧚🏼‍♀️

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: just fluff! and wedding vibes 💗

A/N: ok but this song is ADORABLE ! it makes me so giddy when I listen to it (& i did, A LOT, especially in the process of writing this) 

Flashbacks are italicized

---

 Feels like I'm falling and I'm lost in your eyes

There was something special about a war time wedding. 

 The atmosphere surrounding the Burrow seemed to glow in the morning light. The gentle breeze rustled the surrounding fields and the sun was just peaking across the horizon. Champagne colored rays burst from between the clouds littered in the sky, providing warmth for anyone who found themselves outside. Despite the early hour, the residents (and guests) of the Weasley household were already up, busying themselves with tasks that Molly had assigned them. 

You found yourself still wrapped in your fluffy dressing gown, nursing a warm cup of tea in your hands as you directed Fred and George. You three were in charge of making sure the flowers, arches, and chairs were all ready for the upcoming ceremony. A smile couldn’t help but inch its way onto your face as you watched Fred jokingly shove George and cause him to lose his footing for a moment. 

 The soft laugh that escaped your lips caught his attention and your eyes locked. Brown eyes glimmered with mischief and adoration met yours and you couldn’t help the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach. 

 “Oi! Be nice to your brother, Fred!” You called out as George once again lost his balance, “We don’t want him losing any other body part!” 

 “Don’t be silly, Y/N.” He retorted, pretending to look like he wasn’t about to send a jelly-legs jinx his brother’s way, “He’s a big boy, he can handle it!”

 You made your way towards the boys who couldn’t stop roughhousing with each other now, “Well regardless, we’ve got to get the flowers and arches up and perfect before your mother comes and has a right fit!” 

 Slightly amused at how much you reminded them of their mother in that moment, the twins stopped horsing around and actually got their wands out to be as efficient as possible. You were able to get back to peacefully sipping on your tea and telling them where they should put certain flowers and which arch belonged where. 

 The sun was fully risen when the three of you finished, standing side by side admiring your handiwork. 

 “Great job team!” George announces, patting both you and Fred on the shoulder before turning on his heel, “I’m gonna go check and see if mom’s made some food! I’m starving!” 

 Before you could follow him, Fred’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you from behind. Your back connected with his chest in a huff, and he placed his head on your shoulder, “Yes, Freddie?” You giggled. 

 “Nothing love,” He kissed the side of your neck, “Just love you, is all.” 

 Your heart fluttered at the simple words and you practically melted in his arms, “Where’d that come from?” 

 “The whole atmosphere of today, of the wedding, I dunno” He hummed, “It just made me think of seeing you walk down the aisle in a white dress in the future.” 

 Turning around in his grasp and wrapping your arms around his neck, your eyes met and it was the most genuine and sincere you had ever seen Fred look. It made your heart stutter and butterflies fill your stomach. 

 “You’re such a sap, Fred Weasley,” There was no malice in your voice, just adoration for the wonderful man in front of you. 

 “Only for you darling.” 

 -

 Bill and Fleur’s wedding was nothing short of magical. 

 The moment the blushing bride walked down the aisle, the crowd seemed to freeze in awe of her beauty. But nothing could compare to how she glowed the moment she reached the arms of her loving husband. 

 As the newlyweds shared a loving kiss, your eyes locked with Fred’s and you were struck with the image of him in his best dress robes, pulling you in for a sweet kiss just like the one happening in front of you. When the redhead sent you a cheeky wink from across the room, you had no doubt in your mind that you wanted to marry him one day. 

 You couldn’t help but reminisce on the years past and how your relationship with the cheeky mischief maker developed. 

 I watched from a distance as you made life your own

 Laughs rang through the crowded hallway as the Weasley twins rushed to get away from Filch. You rolled your eyes at their antics, but a small smirk graced your lips. Being yearmates and housemates with the rambunctious pair for four years now had allowed you to grow used to their mischievous pranks and their witty ideas. 

 “Oi, watch it Weasley!” You teased, turning to face the boys who nearly knocked you over in their rush to get away from the cranky caretaker. 

 “Sorry, Y/L/N!” One of them yelled over his shoulder, before the pair of them rounded the corner and disappeared from view. 

 Despite being in the same year and house as the twins, that was usually the most interaction you would have with them. Nothing against them, but you had your own group of friends and they had theirs. As much as you admired their mischief and wit, that wasn’t really your thing. You preferred to keep to yourself or your little group of friends, not fading into the shadows but not exactly stepping into the spotlight either. 

 When you were accidentally on the receiving end of their pranks meant for Snape, though, the twins forced themselves into your life. 

 You were sat on one of the beds in the hospital wing, waiting while Madam Pomfrey puttered around looking for some bruise cream and muttering under her breath about how dangerous the twins could be. You hid your smile behind your hand, it honestly wasn’t all that bad, you just had a bruise on your cheek and one on your shoulder. They were both sore and aching, but you knew it could be fixed in no time. 

 Before the mediwitch could apply any salve to your exposed shoulder, the twins burst into the hospital wing. 

 “Y/N!” One of them, you thought maybe George, yelled. 

 “Oh Merlin, we’re so sorry!” The other twin said as they reached you. 

 Madam Pomfrey began to protest the twins’ presence, but you were quick to reply, “It’s fine you guys. Madam Pomfrey’s just about to fix me up and I’ll be good as new!” 

 The rest of the week, the twins didn’t leave you alone. Constantly opening doors and pulling out chairs for you, the pair of them weaseled their way into your daily routine. You could feel them wriggling their way into your heart too, and you knew that there was no going back now. 

 Every sky was your own kind of blue

And I wanted to know how that would feel

 “Y/N?” You turned around to the source of the voice only to be face to face with none other than Fred Weasley.

 “Fred,” You breathed, hitching the books in your arms a little higher and tighter, “What’s up? Do you need something?” 

 The castle was decorated beautifully for the Christmas hols, and more importantly to impress the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang guests you were hosting that year, but you were in a bit of a rush and you couldn’t really stop and chat. The professors had made sure to assign as much schoolwork as possible before the break began, which meant you were scrambling to finish everything on time. 

 You noticed Fred rock back on his heels and shove his hands in the pockets of his robes, “Are you alright?” You asked. 

 “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m brilliant really,” He muttered, his eyes shifting around and his ears tinging pink ever so slightly. 

 “O-kay,” You said, “Sorry, Fred but I’m rushing to get some coursework finished. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

 “Yeah, of course.” He mumbled as you turned on your heel and rushed away. His shoulders slumped slightly, “Bloody idiot, couldn’t get a word out of your mouth…” 

 Unknown to you, Fred walked all the way back to the common room muttering under his breath. The Yule Ball was coming up and the only person he wanted to take was you, he just needed to buck up enough courage to actually ask you. Every time he tried, though, he clammed up and nothing could come out of his mouth. 

 When you climbed through the portrait hole a while later, he was still sat on one of the couches, staring at the fireplace and brainstorming ideas of how he could gather up some of his Gryffindor courage and ask you a simple question. He actually made it a point to write down a few of them on some parchment, but most of them were crossed out. 

 Sonorus charm during breakfast 

Sending her a letter (? possible)

Ask Hermione to ask her for me 

 He hadn’t noticed that you came in, so when you plopped down on the couch beside him, he almost jumped out of his seat. He looked right suspicious to you, trying to shove the piece of parchment he was holding back into the pocket of his robes. Knowing the kind of mischief he could cause you, you did what any other sane person would do.

 “Accio parchment.” You said, pointing your wand at his robes. The paper flew out and into your open palm. 

 “No, Y/N-” He protested, but you stood up quickly and got out of his grabbing reach. 

 “What’s this Fred? Haven’t gotten any good ideas to ask someone to the Yule Ball?” You teased after skimming over his messy notes. 

 At that moment he thanked Merlin and Morgana that he hadn’t actually written down your name. Still, his ears and neck were pink and he could feel his face grow hot as you read over the dumb ideas he wrote down. 

 “That’s none of your business, don’t you think?” He mumbled, taking the parchment out of your hands and sticking it back safely in his pocket. 

 “Oh alright,” You smiled, “Just teasing!” 

 He nodded quickly then proceeded to make his way to the staircase, wanting to just curl up in bed and scream into his pillow. Something stopped him, though. He paused right at the doorway and turned to face you slowly. 

 “Y/N?” He said. 

 “Yeah, Fred?” You asked, busy trying to smooth down the disheveled uniform and hair that came from running away from him so quickly a few minutes before. You weren’t paying as much attention to the redhead as you should’ve, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. 

 “Do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?” 

 His question rang through the empty common room and made you pause what you were doing. 

 “Sorry, what?” You asked, turning to look at him. 

 “Erm, I asked if you wanted to go to the Yule Ball with me,” He mumbled, rocking back on his heels. 

 A slow smile spread across your face, “Of course! I’d love to.” 

 “Great!” He nearly yelled, “Great, yeah. I can’t wait!” 

 -

 You stood at the top of the staircase, your gown swishing gently as you made your way to where the rest of the students were waiting. Fred’s hair could easily be spotted above the crowd, so you weaved your way through to him. 

 When his eyes found yours the world seemed to stop. Blood rushed to his ears and his breath came out in short puffs. His vision seemed to tunnel and the only thing he could see was you. You looked absolutely stunning.

 “Wow,” He breathed once you reached him, “I think I’ve just died and gone to heaven. You look phenomenal, Y/N.” 

 Your heart stuttered at the compliment, “Thanks, Fred. You look great too.”

 Fred was nothing short of the perfect date. He held your waist as the two of you entered the Great Hall, held your seat out for you as you reached your table, and took your hand to lead you to the dance floor when it was time for the waltz. The both of you weren’t great dancers, but you stumbled and giggled through the whole thing with smiles on your faces. 

 When the two of you grew tired of dancing, he gently whispered in your ear, “D’you wanna get out of here?” 

 “Sure,” You smiled. 

 In a moment of bravery, you took his hand in yours as the two of you walked leisurely through the snow filled grounds. Heart still beating in your chest, you stole a glance in his direction. To your surprise, he wore a goofy smile on his face and his ears were slightly tinged pink. Instead of letting go, he squeezed your hand and led you to an empty bench. 

 You sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, taking in the gorgeous decorations made for the ball, but after a while you asked “Knut for your thoughts?”

 Fred turned to face you slightly and let out a small puff of breath, “I’ve actually wanted to talk to you about something.” 

 Your brows furrowed in concern, “What’s up?” 

 “I fancy the hell out of you, Y/N.” He breathed nervously, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear and staring at the ground. 

 “Oh Fred, I really fancy you too.” You grinned giddily, a small laugh leaving your lips. 

 His eyes widened at your statement and his grin seemed to match yours, “What’s so funny then?” 

 “Nothing,” You shrugged, snaking your arms around his neck, “I’ve just fancied you for so long, I just didn’t think you’d actually feel the same for me.” 

 Instead of replying, Fred swooped down and pressed a searing kiss on your lips. You gasped slightly, not expecting his lips to be on yours, but soon you melted into his touch. His arms wrapped around your waist before the two of you broke apart. 

 “That answer your question?” He breathed, going back in to peck your lips again and again until you were giggling and playfully slapping him on the chest. 

 “You’re really something else, Weasley.” 

 You lift my feet off the ground

You spin me around

You make me crazier crazier

 “D’you wanna get out of here?” A familiar voice asked in your ear as strong arms wrapped around your waist. 

“Now where have I heard that before?” You teased, placing a soft peck on Fred’s lips. 

The wedding reception was in full swing now, a crowd of redheads filling the tent. You were standing to the side, taking in just how much happiness this event sparked in your life and in so many others’. It was as if the world stopped to celebrate the love that Bill and Fleur clearly felt for each other. 

Without answering you, Fred merely took your hand in his and led you out into the dusk. The breeze cooling down your slightly warm skin. 

“Care for a dance?” He grinned at you, holding out his hand when you two had reached a relatively empty area in the surrounding field. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” You joked, taking his hand and putting your other one on his shoulder. 

Gently, the two of you swayed together as the sun finally set beyond the horizon and as the first few stars appeared above you. No music was playing, nor was it needed, as you were wrapped around the love of your life. 

He sighed contentedly, “When all this is over and we’ve won the war, I’m going to marry you.” 

“Good,” You said confidently, “Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Fred Weasley.” 

[hazel-light]

CATCH UP ON CHAPTER ONE HERE

Chapter Two Word Count: ~8,500

Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.

Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!

Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn't mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈

Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent me feedback on the first part! I really appreciate it :) Things pick up quite a bit here.... I hope you all enjoy! The third part will be up tomorrow, as promised. <3

It was finally time to fly back to Massachusetts. I had changed my flight so that Daniel and I could be on the same one and seated together.

It’s ridiculously early when I arrive at his apartment to pick him up in our shared Uber, since we have to account for the time difference on the East Coast. He opens the door to his apartment, looking super cozy and ready for travel, one suitcase behind him and a backpack by the door.

“Today’s the day,” I grin at him.

“Oh shit, is it really?” He feigns, rolling his eyes. “Good thing I packed early, then.”

“You’re a professional traveler by this point, I bet you have it down pat.”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you? I actually put a bit more thought into this trip than I usually do.... I need to make a good impression, and I’m making a lot of first impressions.”

I can’t keep my face from forming an endeared expression. “That’s really cute.”

He puts his hands up bashfully. “I take my roles very seriously, Lauren.”

I shake my head. “Well, it means a lot to me; not only that you’re doing this, but that you’re taking it seriously.”

He shrugs, softening his playful demeanor. “Even if we weren’t together in their eyes, I would care what your family thinks. They’re important to you, so it’s important to me.”

“Dannnnielllll,” I whine, “Please don't make me cry this early in the day.”

He laughs, picking up his luggage. “At this rate you’re not going to survive the weekend. I haven’t even turned on my boyfriend charm yet.”

God help me then, I think, making my way back to the car.

Getting through LAX is fairly easy, and remarkably Daniel successfully flies under the radar. He offers to let me have the window seat, but I let him take it, figuring the farther out of sight from the aisle he is, the better.

Like all flights, I fall asleep as soon as we hit cruising altitude; Daniel has his headphones in and spends the time working on something in a notebook. In what seems like minutes, I’m being gently shaken awake by a smiling Daniel.

“Lovely girlfriend of mine, it’s time to rise and shine. Our relationship starts,” he pretends to check the time, “now.”

“Oh thank you, handsome boyfriend. I’m ready.”

Daniel laughs as we stand and wait to exit the plane. Once we step off and onto the ramp, Daniel offers me his hand. “Ready?”

I lace my fingers through his and try to ignore the flutter in my stomach. “Ready.”

Getting our luggage from baggage claim is fairly painless, which leads us to looking for Ryan and Katharine, his longtime girlfriend, in the airport. They’re picking us up on their way to the hotel on the Cape, where the wedding reception is going to be held, and also where we’re going to be staying.

We walk through the airport hand in hand, as I check my phone yet again to see if Ryan has texted. Nothing. We stop for a moment, and peripherally I hear a girl’s voice from behind us,

“Um excuse me, are you Daniel Sharman? Can I get a photo?”

I glance at Daniel, whose face has gone blank. I move to let go of his hand instinctively but he tightens his grip as we turn around. I laugh when I realize the voice belongs to Katharine, who’s standing in front of Ryan, who is trying his best not to laugh.

“Not funny, you guys,” I say, biting back a grin. “We haven’t been recognized so far.”

I turn back to Daniel, who’s looking at me slightly confused. “Daniel, please meet Ryan and his girlfriend Katharine.”

“Oh,” he laughs, reaching out to shake their hands. “That was good. It’s nice to meet you both.”

Katharine knocks into Ryan, who’s still grinning. “It was this loser’s idea. He said he couldn't do it because you’d recognize his voice too soon.”

“A fair point,” I add, teasing. “Besides, women tend to be Daniel’s main demographic, so.”

Daniel scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“What?” I laugh, “It’s true.”

“I wanted to see if you’d drop her hand in front of a fan,” Ryan challenges. “You passed the test.”

“That’s a stupid test, Ry. I wouldn’t have been offended if he did, since this is our first public outing as a couple.”

Daniel looks at me like I’ve somehow insulted him. “I would never do that to you, Laur. That’s crazy; I wouldn’t try to hide you.”

“Okay, well, I’m just saying.” I look at Ryan expectantly. “Still trying to figure out why you haven’t hugged me yet.”

“It takes two hands to hug, I think,” he taunts, nodding towards where Daniel and I are still holding hands.

I blush. “Can you not be this annoying? We literally just arrived.” I let go of Daniel’s hand and step toward Ryan. Katharine and Daniel watch amusedly as Ryan and I hug, trying to see who can crush the other the most. “I missed you, dummy.”

“I missed you, too. You can let go now. Really.”

I let go of Ryan and narrow my eyes at him. “You’re a brat.”

“Whatever, let’s go.”

I grab the handle of my suitcase, smiling at Daniel, who smiles softly back at me. I glance at his hand and then back at him, and he chuckles softly as he meets me halfway in my attempt to hold his hand again. I blush and look away, turning my attention back to Ryan and Katharine, who are leading us out of the airport to where they’d parked.

---

The car ride to the hotel on the Cape is filled with small talk, mainly questions for Daniel, who takes them in stride. I watch him and smile as he is able to keep up with Ryan’s antics and provide thoughtful answers. He is anything but flustered, and I feel a sense of pride trickle through me. At some point, Daniel catches me watching up with a smile on my face and he just smiles back, continuing his easy conversation with Ryan and Katharine. I jump in where I’m needed, or when I can provide something interesting, but for the most part I bask in how well things seem to be going.

Once we arrive and park at the hotel, the four of us get our luggage and head inside to check in. Ryan gives our name to the woman at the desk and she looks us up.

“Got it. I see the mother of the bride reserved two king rooms on the wedding family floor, which is 3.” I see Ryan glance at us, but I just don’t look at him, I just squeeze Daniel’s hand.

“That sounds right to me.”

Daniel nods next to me. The woman nods and hands us each two key cards. We thank her and head to the elevator for our floor.

Katharine checks her phone. “Do you guys want to get settled and meet back up for dinner? The hotel restaurant has seating out by the beach.”

I look at Daniel who looks at me before shrugging. “Yeah, that sounds great. You want to meet in like 45 minutes?”

The elevator dings and we exit to our floor. Our room is farther down the hall than Ryan and Katharine’s.

“Sure, we’ll head over to your room then.” Ryan smiles before ducking into his room with Katharine.

Once I hear their door click shut, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Daniel huffs a laugh at me, stopping to unlock our door.

“You alright?”

“Great. How’re you doing with all this?”

“Good; they’re nice— Ryan is literally exactly what I expected.”

I laugh at that and follow Daniel into the room. I look around and admire the quaint decor. The bed takes up most of the room but there’s a closet and a bureau on the opposite wall, and tall windows that don’t open but overlook the beach below and the sea beyond. Opposite the windows is a wall covered in different paintings and signs— very boho beachy.

I sit on the bed and look at Daniel, who’s already unzipping his luggage to hang up his suit.

“This is cute,” I comment.

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

I bite my nail and watch as he turns around to face the closet.

“I uh, forgot that we’d be sharing a bed. Just didn’t think of it— sorry.”

Daniel laughs and gives me an incredulous look over his shoulder.

“You thought your aunt would book us two beds even though as far as she knows we’re super in love?”

I blush. “Well, no. I just— I don’t know, I didn’t even think about it is all I meant.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t bother me. I quite appreciate a good cuddle, if I’m honest. Haven’t had one in a while.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Why— do you hate that? Are you one of those women who like their space?”

I snort. “No, no, we can cuddle. You just surprise me, is all.”

“Surprise you, huh?”

Daniel turns around with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. He takes two strides so he’s standing in front of me, and puts his hands on either side of my face. He leans down so we’re eye to eye and I can’t help but glance briefly at his lips, wondering if he’s going to kiss me again.

“You know,” he says softly, “You should really unpack your dress so it doesn’t wrinkle.” He winks and pulls back, kissing my forehead.

I shake my head even though he’s facing away from me now, hopping off the bed to follow his advice.

“You’re trouble, Sharman. Such a tease.”’

“Sorry?” He looks at me innocently, batting his eyelashes dramatically. “Oh, were you expecting a kiss?”

I feel myself blush as I pull my dress out and walk around him to hang it up.

“I wasn’t expecting anything. Like I said, you’re full of surprises.”

He lowers his voice. “So, you don’t want a kiss?”

I turn around to face him, eyes narrowed, thoughts rushing, but before I can retort there’s a knock on the door.

I turn away promptly to answer the door, grateful for the exit. I hear Daniel chuckle behind me as I open the door to reveal Ryan, who clears his throat.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” He peers past me, presumably at Daniel. “Katharine called the restaurant to make a reservation and they only had a 6:45, so she said we’d take it. I tried to text you but you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry,” I apologize. “My phone's still in my bag. We were unpacking.”

“That’s fine. Are you guys good to head to dinner, or...?”

I feel an arm wrap around my waist. “Yeah, we’re good. I grabbed your purse, Laur, and I have my wallet and the room key.”

I can feel Ryan watching me so I lean back against Daniel’s chest and look up at him. “Thank you,” I say sweetly, taking my bag from him before turning back to Ryan. “Let’s go.”

—-

Dinner on the beach is lovely. There’s a subtle warm breeze and the food is delicious. The conversation is easy and I can’t help but feel an unusual sense of peace of bringing two of my favorite men together and having them get along so well.

I’m in a reverie when I feel Daniel’s hand lightly squeeze my thigh, bringing me back to reality. I blink, looking across the table at Ryan and Katharine, and try to ignore Daniel smirking next to me.

“Hmm? Sorry, I dazed out there for a minute.”

Katharine laughs. “Totally fine, I was asking how it’s been dating someone who's in the spotlight.”

“Oh, um.” I pause, taking a sip of water. “It’s been fine, you know, since we’ve been so low key about it. The public doesn’t know about us. I imagine it’d be different then.”

Daniel nods. “I think for the most part, the fans would be welcoming, but there are always going to be people who… aren’t.”

Ryan leans on his hand, looking between the two of us. “Isn’t it weird, though? The thought that there are so many girls thinking about getting with your boyfriend constantly?”

“I—” I look at Daniel, who looks mortified, but also curious at how I’ll respond. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that.”

Ryan makes a noise of indignation. “You watch his movies and shows and stuff, don’t you?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Of course I do.”

“And it isn’t weird watching him make out with people on screen? Doesn’t it make you jealous?”

I open and close my mouth. I can tell behind his hand Daniel’s smirking, and even Katharine’s looking at me curiously.

“Well, of course I don’t love it— but I mean— it’s his job. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

I look at Daniel, who’s looking at me curiously.

“You never said it made you jealous.”

“I mean—” I shrug, at a loss for words.

He looks at me for a moment before looking away, clearing his throat as we’re interrupted by the waiter bringing our check.

Ryan goes to grab it, but Daniel beats him to it.

“I got it. I said I’d owe you a hundred bucks if you came with a real date, so,” Ryan teases.

I cross my arms. “Oh, and you believe me now?”

“After seeing how jealous you got in that conversation? Yeah.”

I scoff and Daniel and Katharine laugh while Ryan rolls his eyes.

“I’m just playing around, Laur.”

Daniel intervenes, sticking his card in the check holder and placing it at the edge of the table.

“I’ve got it, bro. First meeting and all that; but thank you.”

I look at Daniel. “You don’t have to do that, we all have our own jobs.”

Daniel shrugs. “I know, I just want to.” He places his hand on my thigh again, and leans in to kiss my temple. He whispers against my head. “Let me do this, please?”

“Okay,” I sigh. “Well, thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Katharine echoes, smiling.

“My pleasure.”

—-

We’re back in our room, just finished brushing our teeth, when I bring it up again.

“You really didn’t have to pay for dinner you know.”

“I know,” he says. “But I don’t want him giving you money like me coming here was something that had to be bribed, or bought. I came because I wanted to— the details of which Ryan doesn’t need to know.”

I hum in thought.

“Besides, apparently I’m causing you bouts of jealousy, so really it’s the least I can do,” he teases.

I scoff, “Comes with the territory I guess…. along with apparently fighting off swarms of girls who want to jump your bones.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, folding down the bed covers, “Do people even use that expression anymore?”

“Doesn’t matter, you know what I mean.”

“And yet, you’re the woman in my bed tonight.”

I laugh, folding down the other side of the bed, “How scandalous.”

“Very. Cuddling is serious business, you know.”

Daniel settles into bed, looking at me where I’m still sat on the edge.

“You coming in?”

“Yeah,” I flush, hesitating.

He extends an arm, and I take the invitation, cuddling up against his chest.

“See, this is nice.”

“I never said it wouldn’t be.”

“I know." He pauses, "Try to relax, I promise this weekend is going to go smoothly, if I have any say in it. Not to sound too cocky, but I’m good at my job.”

I laugh at that, before sighing, “I know you are.”

“Good. Sweet dreams, then.”

“Sweet dreams," I echo, snuggling a little bit closer to him.

—-

When I wake up in the morning, my chest is pressed against Daniel’s shirt, and I feel his fingertips lightly tracing up and down my back.

“Morning,” he hums.

“Good morning,” I answer, shifting slightly. “How long have you been awake?”

Daniel makes a noncommittal noise. “Not sure, didn’t want to risk waking you up to check my phone.”

I look up at him as best I can from my position. “You’ve just been staring at the ceiling this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long. Plus I’m resting, and enjoying our cuddle.”

I turn away blushing and snuggle back into him. “You are very warm; makes me not want to get up.”

“Our alarm hasn’t gone off yet—” He’s cut off by the alarm on his phone doing just that. “Nevermind.”

I make no effort to move from my cozy position.

“Come on,” He urges, pulling my hair lightly. “We have to get up and brush our teeth. I have a feeling there’s some kissing in our future, so.”

“Oh? Is there someone you have your eye on?” I tease.

“Just my fake girlfriend. I think I’ll probably need to demonstrate to her family how in love I am.”

“Demonstrate, huh? I’ll tell the children to shield their eyes.”

I feel Daniel’s laugh rumble through his chest, and I grin.

“Come on, we have to get ready and we have to make a good impression!”

I groan, rolling off and away from him. “I’m going to complain the whole time.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

I don’t have to turn around to know he’s smirking.

Daniel showers first so I can use the bathroom to style my hair and do my makeup once I’m done with mine.

When I’m done, I find Daniel suited and sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on his phone. I walk up to him, standing in between his legs, and he looks up at me, taking in my appearance.

“You look beautiful.”

I reach my hand up to smooth his collar. “And you look very handsome; it might be a hard sell for anyone to believe you’re here with me,” I joke.

He shakes his head, smiling softly. He reaches up to take my hand, pulling my wrist up to his lips where he leaves a gentle kiss.

“I don’t think anyone will have any trouble believing that, actually.”

My heart stutters in my chest, and I swallow.

“Are you ready to meet everyone?”

“I am. Are you nervous?”

I look at him for a minute and really think about it.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “With you, I’m not nervous.”

He smiles. “Good; let’s get going.”

—

As we exit the hotel, we take a right before descending down the stairs to the beach ceremony hand in hand. The sun feels warm on our skin, but the soft breeze keeps it from feeling overbearing. I can feel some family members’ eyes on me as I smile and wave with my free hand, sure I’ll have plenty of time to talk to them after. We pick our seats and I look up at Daniel, who is already smiling down at me. I smile back as he places our clasped hands in my lap, his thumb gently brushing back and forth over my skin.

“It’s a beautiful day to get married,” he states, looking around.

I hum in agreement, wrapping my free hand around his bicep.

“I always wondered about summer weddings— I’d worry that I’d sweat off all my makeup if I was the bride.”

Daniel huffs a laugh. “Yeah. I assume most grooms are sweating buckets before they even reach the reception.”

My eyes wander down to where he has the first few buttons of his shirt undone to accommodate the heat.

“My eyes are up here.”

My eyes flash back up to his, and he smirks. I shake my head and try not to blush at getting caught. He leans down to kiss my temple.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he murmurs against my hair, squeezing my hand.

I turn to him and raise my eyebrow. “Diving right in are we?”

He shrugs and diverts his attention back to the altar.

“Ryan looks so much older in his tux.”

I look to where Ryan stands next to Nick, Rachel’s soon-to-be husband, as one of the groomsmen.

“Sometimes I forget he’s only 18, but then he’s still a baby to me in some ways.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Just imagine, one day we’ll be sitting at his wedding.”

“I can’t even think about that— though, to be fair, he may beat me to getting married. He and Katharine have been dating since they were 13.”

He lets out a low whistle. “True high school sweethearts. Do you think they’ll stay together through college?”

I sigh, looking over at Katharine a few rows ahead with my Aunt Judith. “I hope so, I think they’re a good fit. She’s already part of the family.”

It’s quiet for a moment before something hits me.

“You said we’ll be sitting at Ryan’s wedding.” I tug on Daniel’s arm. “Plan on sticking around?”

“Well, I—” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, not sure of the right response.

I giggle and lean up to kiss his cheek before pulling back just enough to whisper, “You know, you’re really cute when you blush.”

He turns to me before I can pull away entirely, placing a quick kiss on my lips, leaving me blinking up at him.

He smirks. “Touché.”

———

There’s something to be said for attending a wedding with someone.

I’m not sure if I’m emotional because it’s Rachel, my cousin who I’ve grown up with, or the fact that when something particularly romantic happens, I look at Daniel, who will smile and squeeze my hand in solidarity.

We’re both a little teary eyed by the time the ceremony ends. I reach my free hand up to wipe a stray tear from his face. He laughs, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I’m feeling it too. Easy to feel a little sappy on a day like today.”

“Mmm. Really sets the mood for the start of our relationship.”

I roll my eyes good-naturedly.

“Speaking of…” I trail off, eyeing a few family members approaching over his shoulder.

“Get ready, because introductions start now.”

—-

The members of my family that are introduced seem to welcome Daniel with no hesitations— and far fewer questions than I anticipated. He handles them all smoothly and I’m thankful we discussed some things beforehand. Eventually, we part ways, excusing ourselves with promises to catch up more later.

We don’t get too far before a little girl runs up to us. She can’t be older than 4 or 5.

“Hi,” she giggles. “I’m Marnie.”

Daniel and I share a smile, and I bend down a bit. “Hi Marnie, I’m Lauren, and this is Daniel.” He waves. “Are you here for the wedding too?”

She nods bashfully. “Nick kissed her! Now he’s a husband.”

Daniel laughs. “He is.��

“How do you know Nick?” I ask.

“He’s my cousin,” she says, kicking some sand with her sandals.

“Ahh, the girl he kissed is my cousin Rachel. Now she’s a wife!” I exclaim.

She looks at me curiously. “Is a wife like a mom?”

Before I can answer, we hear someone call her name, and we look up to see a couple around our age standing on the patio about 10 feet away.

“Is that your mom and dad?” Daniel asks.

“Yeah, I gotta go— see you later!”

She dashes off, and we wave at the couple who wave back, calling out an apology.

“It’s fine— she’s super cute!” I smile.

We watch as they head back toward the hotel, and presumably the reception.

We walk along the stone wall lining the patio, watching from a distance as bridal party photos are taken.

I look at him. “Should we take our own photo to celebrate the occasion, and how nice we look?”

Daniel laughs, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Sure.”

He bends down so we can take a selfie, before shaking his head.

“Wait.” He sits on the wall, and pulls me so I’m sitting on his lap. I try to mask my blush as he looks at the phone screen. “Better. More natural angle.”

We take one selfie smiling and another with silly faces.

“Do you two want me to take a photo for you?” A woman passing by asks.

I hesitate, but Daniel’s already handing over his phone. “That would be great, thanks.”

We stay seated with his arm around my waist. And I turn to lean into him, putting my hand on his chest.

We grin and the woman takes a photo.

“Boooo, boring,” Ryan heckles, walking up behind the woman out of nowhere. “Give us something good.”

I roll my eyes, and feel Daniel chuckle.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking formal photos?” I query.

“I finished.” He shrugs, taking the camera from the woman, who excuses herself. “Now give me something good.”

“Alright Ryan, since you asked so nicely,” Daniel drawls. I feel his hand on my neck tilting my head up. “Give the man what he wants.” He smirks, eyes sparkling, leaning in to kiss me.

I can’t help but grin into the kiss as I hear Ryan quickly change his tune. “Okay gross, this is excessive. I got it, you can stop.”

Eventually we pull away, and I turn to Ryan innocently. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I’m starting to regret pushing the whole plus one agenda.” He frowns, handing Daniel back his phone.

“No you aren’t,” I tease.

“I’m going to go find my girlfriend,” he rebuts, stalking off.

Daniel shakes his head. “He’s funny.” Lowering his voice, he says into my ear, “One kiss down, many to go.”

I shove him playfully and slide off his lap, turning back towards the hotel to hide my blush. “If any of those pictures came out good, send them to me, please.”

“Okay, but wait.” He stands and pulls my elbow gently, and as I turn back to him his lips meet mine.

“What was that for?” I ask as we finally pull away.

“Just making sure we found our rhythm.” He shrugs. “Besides, as your boyfriend, I technically don’t need a reason.”

I bite my lip. “Is that so?”

He looks at me innocently. “It goes both ways, you know, these lips are yours for the day.”

I bark a laugh. “That sounds so weird, but, okay, noted.”

He grins, lacing our fingers together and pulling me back toward the hotel and the reception.

—-

Inside the reception, each table seats 6; we’re seated at one of the family tables with Ryan, Katharine, and my Aunt Judith. Aunt Judith is my late grandmother’s sister. She has a sharp tongue and rarely minces words when she speaks, a trait that suited her long career as a lawyer in the city. She’s one of the family members who I’ve been most nervous for Daniel to meet, as I know she’ll be critical and her eagle eye will be looking for weaknesses between us. I’ve seen her do it to Rachel’s boyfriends over the years, and even to Katharine when she and Ryan started dating.

“So, Daniel…” Aunt Judith begins. “Ryan here tells me you had… concerns, about Lauren telling us about you.”

Here comes the interrogation. I glare at Ryan, who shrugs, before looking at Daniel who appears unusually calm.

“Not concerns, really,” he starts, “We were friends for a long time, as you know, and I think we were both just nervous—“ he looks at me, “and trying to take our time in figuring out the transition into being together romantically.”

I nod, “And it was only like a month before I told Ryan. You guys know I tell you everything.”

Aunt Judith watches as the others laugh knowingly, and Daniel grins at me.

“Are you planning to keep your relationship private from the press?” She pushes.

“Well,” Ryan interjects, “At the airport they were holding hands, even when Katharine approached him pretending to be a fangirl.”

I roll my eyes, “That was so unnecessary, you guys. Daniel and I both like our privacy so I wouldn’t say we’re hiding it, but we aren’t flaunting it all over either.”

“I’m definitely not ashamed or trying to hide Lauren, if that’s what you mean.” Daniel jests lightly.

“I should hope not,” she says, looking at him over her glass, as she takes a sip.

Katherine turns to Daniel, “What is it about Lauren that drew you in?”

Ryan snorts, “Yeah, how’d she escape the friendzone?”

I put a hand over my face, embarrassed, which Aunt Judith seems to interpret to mean something else entirely.

“Please tell me you did nothing scandalous, so help me, Lauren….”

“What,” I look at her, “No, of course not, why would you assume that?”

She shrugs and Daniel intervenes, “It wasn’t something sudden… I always knew she was beautiful, and obviously as we became friends I saw how kind and thoughtful she was. Funny too,” he says smirking at me.

“Hmm,” she says taking a sip from her drink again, but I can tell she’s secretly pleased with his answer.

—-

Once dinner is finished I excuse Daniel and I from the table, so I can introduce him to Rachel, her new husband, Nick, and of course my Auntie Kim.

I feel Daniel’s hand squeeze mine and I turn back to look at him, smiling.

“Getting tired of all these introductions yet?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Such a good sport,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes.

We wait for the last people currently talking to Rachel and Nick to clear, and when Rachel sees me she squeals.

“Lauren!”

I laugh, “Hi Rach, congratulations!”

“Thank you,” she beams, looking over at Nick briefly.

“And welcome to the family, officially, Nick.”

He grins and motions behind me, “Who’s this guy you’re towing around?”

“Right,” I blush. “Rachel, Nick, this is my boyfriend Daniel.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Daniel greets, sticking out his hand to shake theirs. Neither Nick or Rachel do a great job of hiding their surprise.

“No offense, Laur, but when Ryan told me you were bringing a boyfriend I thought he was messing with us.” Nick interjects.

I force a grin on my face, feeling Daniel’s hand comfortingly move to my back.

“I’m all too real, I’m afraid.” Daniel interjects. “Sorry to disappoint.”

I lean back into him, and watch as Rachel smacks Nick on the arm.

“No, no, we’re very glad you’re real Daniel. Just surprised is all. Don’t mind Nick.”

Auntie Kim approaches saving us from the awkward encounter.

“This must be the infamous Daniel, who has won our Lauren’s heart.”

I blush, as she moves to hug him.

He smirks, “Well, she’s won mine as well.”

“You two are so cute. We are so thrilled you could come today, Daniel.”

“I was too, it is really great to meet you all after hearing this one talk about you all nonstop.”

The group laughs.

“We are very much looking forward to getting to know you better, hopefully this will be the first of many visits.”

He smiles, “Definitely.”

—

At some point much later in the evening, I lose Daniel. He steps away to use the restroom and I get pulled into conversation with a family friend. I keep my eyes peeled for him but somehow I don’t seem to see him anywhere.

I’m standing by the bar waiting for a drink when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

“Hi, darling.”

My stomach flutters at the pet name.

“Oh hello, I was wondering where you ran off to.”

His arms tighten around my waist. “I was having a riveting conversation with one of your aunts, actually.”

I turn my head to look at him curiously. “Which one?”

“Aunt Judith,” he smirks, waving the bartender over to order a drink of his own.

“Oh boy,” I laugh. “What did you guys talk about?”

Once he places his order he leans down to whisper in my ear, “She wanted to know if we were using protection, and after that, we went over the unexpected costs of raising children.”

I turn around in his arms, horrified. “No! —She didn’t.”

“Oh yes,” he laughs, grinning. “She did.”

“What did you even say?”

He pretended to think. “I told her, diaper prices are definitely outrageous, and I agree, college costs are inflated beyond belief—” I glare at him. “Oh, and that it was very important to me that we practice safe sex, but, if anything ever did happen, I would be there for you every step of the way.”

“Oh God.” I bury my face into his chest, and he laughs, affectionately stroking my hair. “I’m so sorry, that’s mortifying….”

“I’ve been asked weirder things, just being an actor in LA.”

“Still.” I look up at him. “Your answer was very sweet, though.”

“Well, it’s the truth. I’ll always be there for you— fake pregnancies and all.”

We’re staring at each other now, his fingers still running through my hair, his other hand on my lower back. Time seems to slow down and my eyes flicker to his mouth, his words from earlier echoing in my head. It goes both ways. Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach up to kiss him, because it feels right.

“You’re the best fake boyfriend, you know that?” I murmur against his mouth.

He pulls me closer to him, brushing his nose against mine. “I might need another kiss to convince me.”

The bartender behind us clears his throat. “Excuse me, sir, ma’am? Your drinks?”

We break apart, and as our moment ends I try to quell the butterflies in my tummy.

Daniel smiles politely at the bartender, passing me my drink before taking his glass in one hand and my hand in the other.

We make our way back to our now vacant table. He lets go of my hand to pull his chair closer to mine as we sit down, draping his arm over the back of my chair. I lean into him as we sip our drinks, people-watching the other tables and the crowd on the dance floor. I feel his fingers start drawing shapes on my shoulder, causing me to look up at him.

“Are you having a good time?” he asks.

“I am, largely thanks to you. Are you having a good time?”

“I am; everyone has been really welcoming. It’s nice to meet the people you’ve told me about, and hear the stories everyone has to tell me about you. There have been some good ones, I have to say…”

I roll my eyes, smiling. “I’m sure.”

“The only way it could be better would be if they had baby pictures.”

“Listen, I’ll be the first to say I peaked in preschool. I was much cuter then, I peaked—” Daniel laughs. “I’ll get some and show you. You’ll be so disappointed this is how I’ve turned out.”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean I bet you were cute but, I couldn’t be disappointed.”

I shake my head, blushing. “Don’t be so sure— you haven’t seen them yet.”

“I am sure…. I’m looking at you right now.”

I start to smile despite myself. “Oooooh, that was smooth, Sharman.”

“No, no, no," he protests, smirking, "it’s easy when you tell the truth.”

“Have you always been this cheesy, or is this a boyfriend exclusive privilege I’ve unlocked?”

“You know—” He’s interrupted as the little girl from earlier runs up to us.

“Hi,” she says bashfully.

I smile, “Hi Marnie,”

She turns to Daniel and taps twice on his knee. “Can I sit?”

Daniel looks at me, and then around the room. Marnie’s parents are nowhere in sight.

“Sure, angel. Where are your mom and dad?”

She shrugs before he lifts her into his lap. The three of us smile at each other as Marnie gets shy. She leans up to whisper in Daniel’s ear, cupping both of her tiny hands around his ear. I can’t hear what she’s saying but I watch as Daniel’s eyes twinkle in amusement.

“Not yet,” he answers to whatever she asked, and she giggles before whispering again, and he laughs. “Mhm, I do.”

Marnie pulls back and looks at him with amazement, whispering even more excitedly. This time he pauses before smiling at me, before turning back to her.

“What do you think?” She looks at me quickly before back at him, nodding shyly. He nods along with her, before leaning in and whispering in her head with his hands cupped secretly like hers had been. Marnie is absolutely beaming now. It’s easy to see how smitten she is with him.

Curiosity gets the best of me. “Do I get to know a secret, too?” I ask, teasingly.

She looks unsure before Daniel swoops in playfully. “Nope, these secrets are for me and Marnie only.”

“Darn it.” I sigh dramatically.

The music changes to something Marnie clearly recognizes as her face lights up, as she tugs on Daniel’s sleeve. “Can we dance? Me and you?”

Daniel looks at me. “Will you be okay here?”

“Absolutely, I’ll be watching.”

He puts his drink on the table as I pick mine up to take a sip, watching as her tiny hand fits in his and she drags him out to dance. The two of them are so cute and my heart feels like it’s going to burst.

Ryan slides into Daniel’s seat a minute later.

“You know, if you and Daniel had a daughter, she’d probably look just like Marnie.”

I glance at him, realizing he’s right. Dark brown curls and bright blue eyes, with a toothy smile and a loud laugh.

“Don’t let my ovaries hear you. I’m not having any children until I have two rings on this finger,” I say, waggling my left hand at him.

Ryan laughs and we watch as Daniel is so good with Marnie, letting her swing his arms around and move them to the beat.

“I like him,” Ryan says definitively.

I look at him, surprised. “Wow, I mean I obviously like him too, I just thought you’d be more skeptical.”

“I did too until I saw you guys together. I just…” He looks emotional all of a sudden. “Shit.”

I laugh softly. “It’s okay, Ry, it’s an emotional day.” I rub his shoulder as he pinches his eyes.

I see Daniel glance over, concerned, but I give him a thumbs up. He nods and goes back to spinning Marnie around.

“I just...” I turn back to Ryan as he speaks, giving him my full attention. “I can see that he loves you— really loves you. It’s all I ever wanted for you.”

I feel my heart squish uncomfortably in my chest. I feel guilty that my cousin is so happy for me, so proud and vulnerable over a relationship that’s just for show. I swallow.

“Me too, I— thank you, Ryan. I love you, so much.”

The song changes again into something slow and I watch Marnie shriek, horrified, before running off into the crowd. Daniel looks after her, humored, before looking at me, gesturing with his head that I come join him. Ryan must see it too because he kisses my temple.

“I love you, too. Go get your man; I should find Katharine.”

Like I’m in a trance, I don’t take my eyes off Daniel as I approach. He smiles and reaches his hands out for me, lacing our fingers together.

“May I have this dance?”

“You may, I was getting a little jealous over there.”

He drops one of my hands to wrap it around my waist, and I bring mine around his neck as we begin to sway, staying close together.

He chuckles. “Well, don’t be, I think everyone here knows who I’m going home with.”

“Yeah, you’re stuck with me.”

He smiles softly but doesn’t answer. I feel my eyes flutter shut as he moves closer pressing his lips to mine gently, tenderly. I kiss him back and for a second I swear I feel it— that all-encompassing love Ryan says he sees between us. When we pull apart, he keeps his head dipped down, pressing his cheek to mine for the remainder of the song. I close my eyes and nuzzle into him, letting myself pretend this is real, just for another moment.

Eventually I break our silence.

“Hey, what did Marnie ask you?”

“Hmm?” He murmurs, the sound vibrating against my cheek.

“During your super secret whisper time.”

“Oh,” he laughs breathily. “She wanted to know if we were married.”

“Ahhh,” I chuckle. “I see. What else did she want to know?”

He pauses as the song starts to fade out and our swaying slows down. “I don’t know if I can tell you that. Some secrets need to stay secret, after all.”

While it was clearly meant to be a joke, he says it a bit too seriously, so I drop it and smile tightly as we pull apart.

“Okay.”

He tugs my hand playfully. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

I make a face at him. “Well, I guess I’ll never know.”

He laughs. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

—-

A little while later, we’re watching Rachel and Nick leave for their honeymoon as the wedding party begins to disperse.

“I suppose we should say our goodbyes,” I say, tearing my eyes away as their car drives off.

I hug my Auntie Kim goodbye and tell her I’ll see her at Christmas. She fawns over Daniel, telling him to watch over me, and how happy she is to have gotten to meet him. It makes me smile to see how well he gets on with her. It’s hardest to say goodbye to Ryan. I hug him fiercely, and he returns the hug just as vigorously.

“I wish I could take you back with me.”

“I know.”

“We need to FaceTime more.”

“We will.”

When I step back, Ryan and Daniel go to shake hands, and I see Aunt Judith sitting at the bar by herself. I excuse myself as they chat and take the seat next to her.

“Aunt Judith, I’m afraid I leave again tomorrow.”

She turns toward me, swirling the scotch in her glass. She disregards what I’ve said and instead looks past me into the crowd.

“Where’s that man of yours?”

“He’s saying goodbye to Ryan at the moment.”

She hums.

“What?” I ask.

“He’s a looker.”

I chuckle. “So I’ve been told.”

“I think he could be husband material though. Not as dense as men usually are.”

I suppress a smile. “Huh, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” I give her a kiss on the cheek goodbye, walking over to rejoin Daniel who seems to be finishing a serious chat with Ryan as I approach. As I join his side, Ryan shakes his hand one last time before walking away. Daniel glances at me, placing a hand on my back, looking back towards Aunt Judith at the bar.

“Should I go say goodbye to her?”

“I think you’re alright.”

Aunt Judith waves at us, and Daniel waves back.

”Was everything okay with Ryan?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah; just talking.” He shifts, interlacing our hands. “Ready to go back to our room?”

I nod and we head towards the elevators, hands swinging between us. While we wait, I subconsciously start swaying to the soft music playing from the hallway speakers. Daniel glances at me smirking, and I look up at him giggling, “What?”

“Nothing. You want to spin, like Marnie?” He teases, lifting our joined hands. I spin twice before bumping into his chest, giggling more. “Ooops.”

He shakes his head at me as the elevator doors open. He wraps both his arms around me, walking me backward into the elevator and I laugh into his tie. I turn around so we’re both facing the doors as he reaches around me to press the button for our floor. The mirrored doors slide closed and I meet his eyes in the reflection. We’re both grinning.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” he taunts, and I stick my tongue out in the reflection. His arms tighten around me and I press backwards into his chest.

—-

Back at the room, we start to get ready for bed. We share the bathroom to brush our teeth and do our nighttime routines, playfully brushing and bumping into each other. I drag my feet, trying to make the evening last as long as possible, trying to stretch out this daydream I’m living in before we have to go home tomorrow.

I get into bed first, lying on my back and watching as Daniel pads across the room to his side of the bed. He shuts off the overhead light as he passes, leaving only the soft blue moonlight from the window covering us.

He climbs into bed next to me but stays propped up on his elbow. I look at him and he begins tracing my face with his other hand. I crinkle my nose at him, and laugh softly.

“What’re you doing?”

“Waiting.”

“For what?”

He gestures behind me to a decorative sign on the wall.

I turn my head to look at it. “I can’t read that without my contacts.”

His fingers trace over my lips, and I hold my breath at the intimate gesture.

His voice drops even softer. “It says always kiss me goodnight. So I’m waiting.”

I look back at him, expecting him to crack a joke, but he doesn’t; his eyes are sincere. I run the arm closest to him up behind his neck, catching my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He takes the hint, letting my touch guide him as he leans down and kisses me.

The kiss is sleepy, soft, lips tenderly pressed together, moving slowly against each other. It ends with a few gentle kisses that drift from my mouth to my cheek, up to my forehead. His gaze is already fixed on me when my eyes flutter back open.

I start to think about how final that kiss felt, how this is the end of our weekend of pretend; how it doesn’t make any sense that we’re kissing when no one’s here to see us, but maybe we’re both lonely and already missing the comfort, the closeness of this façade. I run my hand up from the nape of his neck to scratch gently at his scalp and his eyes flutter shut, finally breaking our eye contact.

“That feels nice,” he whispers. Wordlessly, we shift so his head is on my chest, his arm around my waist, my nails still soothingly sifting through his hair, quietly lulling him to sleep.

---

tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17

[what-the--curtains]

In A Week

Part 4/4 - This Feeling

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: With the wedding day finally here will your true feeling be revealed or will you leave the way you started? As nothing more than strangers.

Authors Notes: THE FINALE (for now??), this story was so nice to write and all y’all r angels for just reading it let alone liking/sharing it (really i could cry💕🌻💕) so thank you🥺🥺

Song used in Story: This feeling - Alabama Shakes (highly rec u listen!!)

Tw: swearing, drinking, allusions to sex and past toxic relationships.

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

Words: 2.0k

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Day 5

A thunk followed by the unmistakable beeping of the snowplows working hard at clearing away the snow from the roads and parking lots wake you. You let out a disappointed sigh when you notice the distinct lack of Frankie beneath you. Almost as if on cue he walks in with a bottle of champagne, orange juice and two glasses.

“Are you ready to get wasted?” he says, as you shift up in bed.

“On one condition.” you offer smacking your lips mouth tasting like morning.

“Which is?” He asks, tilting his head.

“We get fully dressed up for this wedding. I didn't spend hours contemplating outfits to not put one on.” you barter, prepared to fight with him to get what you wanted.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, much to your surprise “that tux was not cheap, and it was supposed to be back two days ago, so not getting that deposit back. Should we call the brides to be before we start drinking?”

“Probably a good call,” After multiple phone calls and various congratulations you found out they were going to be live streaming the ceremony for all the people stranded by the storm. You and Frankie have a lazy morning before it's finally time to get ready, you stand up swaying slightly from the few drinks you'd already downed. Frankie takes the suit into the bathroom giving you the room to change and to do your hair and makeup. You go to pull out your dress and as you do the lingerie you’d packed falls out onto the floor. Your heart drops for a moment before deciding to put it on, not for Jonathan, or even Frankie, but for yourself. You pull on the light pink velvet mini dress you’d settled on, and sling on the black open toe heels. Walking into the kitchen you pour yourself a glass of wine. You hear him clear his throat and you turn around. You're taken aback by how well Frankie cleaned up, no hat, hair styled and a perfectly fitted suit.

When Frankie enters the room, he stops in his tracks, continuing to stare when you turn to face him. If this had been at the wedding, he’s sure he’d have picked you out of the crowd instantly. He’d probably have spent the whole night hoping you'd talk to him only getting upset when you didn't even give him a second glance.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asks, breaking the silence first, beyond pleased at how he’d managed to impress you.

“Something like that” you offer, handing him a beer

“Well, we’re in luck because I was specifically told to provide drinking games for the reception, so” he says pulling out some red solo cups and ping pong balls from his bag.

“Who's bad with their hands now” he asks as he sinks another cup, winning 4 consecutive games.

“No fair! You’re cheating.” you say with a humph.

“I'm not, your technique’s just sloppy and lacking strategy” He mocks.

“I have a strategy” You state defensively, mouth open in faux anger.

“Flashing yourself in an attempt to distract me, isn't a strategy” he says licking his lips as his smile turns into a full blown smirk

“Excuse me.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest shifting your stance and arching an eyebrow, challenging him.

“Oh I'm sorry, is that not what you're doing?” he chides, smirk still prominent.

“Well it use to work” you mutter, embarrassed at having been called out

“Ya on idiots who can't control themselves come here, I'll show you to sink it everytime,” you walk over and he positions himself behind you, he's close enough that you can feel his chest heaving slowly behind you.

“Relax your arms” he says, shaking them out for you. “Okay this arm, drop it, keep it relaxed, only use it for balance if needed. This arm..” he says grabbing your wrist “ this is where the action is, alright keep your elbow locked, none of that wobbly shit I saw earlier. It's all about the flick and the follow through, keep it strong.” He watches as you repeat the motions without his hand guiding you and it goes in. You turn around and lift your arms up victoriously, they quickly find their way around Frankies neck and he lifts you up off the ground, faces dangerously close when he puts you back down on the ground.

“We should order a pizza, I think some places are open” you say quickly turning to your phone and ordering something from wherever it was open.

After watching the ceremony, you're sitting on the counter laughing as Frankie proves to you he can in fact eat an entire piece of pizza in three bites.

“Told you” he says

“Well consider me out witted” your phone beeps, you turn it over assuming its Stella or Santi or Gen but it's not. It's John the second you see his name pop up on your phone your stomach drops. Frankie sees the change in your demeanour, everything about you suddenly appearing small. Frankie grabs the phone from your hands “I swore an oath to prevent shitty guys from ruining the party tonight”

“How did you…? Whose orders? Did Santi tell you?”

“Maybe. Holy ….” Frankie says eyes wide when he accidentally sees the message that has been sent to you.

“What?” you ask, afraid at what he’d just seen.

“Nothing!” he lies, shaking his head blinking hard to get the image out of his head.

“Now you have to tell me!” you say hopping off from the counter and making your way towards him. Reaching for the phone which he's holding over his head. Your place you hand on his shoulder trying to balance yourself as you make another grab for it, but you're not even close. You plant a kiss on his cheek causing his arm to drop immediately allowing you to grab the phone.

“Ha!” you say, failing to notice the dejected look on Frankie's face.

You’re walking towards the counter to reply when something comes over you, maybe it was the way Frankie had made you feel these last few days, maybe it was finally coming to your senses, but you turn back to face him. You stare up at Frankie whose eyes are on the ceiling.

“Can you delete him, from all my shit, and block the number” you ask, offering him your phone.

“Really?” Frankie says

“Ya I can't do it but I want it done,” you say, pushing the phone towards him, more vigorously this time.

“Well it'd be my pleasure, guy sounds like a dick,” he says, taking the phone from you and scrolling through wiping away any remnants of the dude.

“Thanks” you say as he hands the phone back to you.

“What did you see in him? Well actually based on the photo he sent maybe I understand,” he murmurs.

“Francisco Morales” you say, mouth agape.

“I'm not the one who sent it!” he says lifting his hands up in defense.

“You wanna dance?’ he asks “I got the playlist from Pope, may as well have some fun, really forget about Jackson.”

“Jo.. you know it doesn't matter and you’re right,” the both of you dance like idiots for a while, twirling around the room in an embarrassingly cliche way that would be better suited to a John Hughes movie than a makeshift wedding reception. As the next song begins, the slow pacing shifts the tone.

I just kept hoping, I just kept hoping

The way would become clear

You stop your dancing, as does Frankie and a dread akin to that of being at your first middle school dance wondering if you'll be asked to dance or not comes over you. You both stare at each other for a second before Frankie offers you his hand, if he was waiting for a moment, this was it.

I spent all this time

Tryna play nice and fight my way here

See, I've been having me a real hard time

But it feels so nice to know I'm gonna be alright

He pulls you into him and you sway in time to the music. One hand on your lower back, the other one holding your hand as you rest your head against his shoulder. His thumb gently rubs over yours. The sensation comforts you causing a wave of relief which causes your eyes to water.

So, I just kept dreaming, yeah, I just kept dreamin'

It wasn't very hard

I spent all this time

Tryna figure out why

Nobody on my side

“You okay?” he asks, hearing you sniffle, you nod looking up at him and he briefly untangles his hand from yours to wipe away the tear that had fallen

“I'm sorry, if I...” he starts softly, thumb tracing gently over your cheekbone.

“No, it's not you, well it is, but it's not bad” you offer, satisfied with the response he takes your hand in his again and continues swaying.

See, I've been having me a real good time

And it feels so nice to know I'm gonna be alright

So please, don't take my feelings

I have found at last

So please, don't take my feelings

I have found at last

Yeah, if I wanted to, I'd be alright

“why'd you decide to delete him” Frankie whispers, barely audible

“Moment of clarity I suppose” you say into his shoulder.

“Which was?” he presses, not looking down to you.

“Just realized how I could have been being treated in a relationship.”

“Should have been being treated,” Frankie corrects.

“I can't believe I let him do that to me for so long, im so stupid” you mutter

“Blames not on you, blames on him for not realizing what he had, seriously if I had you id….” he stops himself not wanting to take advantage of a vulnerable situation.

So I just kept going, I just kept going

And hoping I'm growing near

Well this good and fine, I spent all this time

Tryna find my way here

And I've been having me a real fun time

And it feels so nice to know I'm gonna be alright

“You’d what” you ask, having mustered up enough courage to finally find out if what you were feeling was reciprocated.

“Id never let you go, at least i'd do everything in my power to make sure you’d want to stay with me”

Please, don't take this feeling

I have found at last

You reach your hands up to his face and pull it down to meet yours, lips colliding for the first time, but the sensation washing over you felt familiar. It felt like you’d finally come home.

Please, don't take my feeling

I have found at last

He slowly moves the two of you back towards the bed never departing from your lips for more than a moment.

“You uh..you sure you want to do this,” he asks, as you run your hands up and down his back.

“Ya, you?” you question looking up at him through your lashes.

“Yes, absolutely.”

If I wanted to, I'd be alright

Yeah, if I wanted to, I'd be alright

The sun from the blinds that had been accidentally left open seeps into the room. The warmth hitting your naked shoulder. You smile when you look down to see Frankies arm wrapped loosely around your waist.

“Well my long con worked, I finally got the side of the bed I wanted,” you tease.

“Mmm” he says as you shift round to come face to face with him kissing his nose. His eyes flutter awake and he smiles, kissing you on the forehead as you snuggle into his chest for a moment before moving to get ready for the day. His arms tighten around you trapping you against him.

“Frankie, we have to get moving” you giggle.

“Nope, I was serious last night. I'm not planning on letting you go”

“So I’m trapped here forever?” you laugh

“Would that be so bad?” he wonders, and you settle back into him knowing that nothing would be better than spending the rest of your days here with him.

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Chapter 23

Wooo! The wedding. And yes I am lowkey obsessed with Indian weddings because they are just gorgeous and to me, mouras in general have a more Middle East/Indian aestetic choices in clothes and food. Oh and the song that Audra walks down the aisle to that I was listening to repeat while writing it is this. Elila Farh

@punkhorse96​ Thank you so much for your feedback and reviews. I hope you’ll enjoy this. 

Blood For Gold 

Chapter 23

You slept in, to a gloriously extravagant hour on your wedding day. Your wedding wouldn’t be until the evening and you had all day to prepare. Sure there were traditions to uphold, things to do. But you woke up to a house full of women as they feasted like the queens they were as all the women in your family, but Myra’s, Yalin’s and the Voyambis as they all cheered when you appeared in the dining room in nothing but a silk robe as you were shown the head of the table and immediately given a tray of figs along with generous helpings of other foods that your mother and grandmother had urged your cooks to make and had been sent from Masai Temple as you gasped at the thoughtfulness and oohed at the delicious flavors blooming in your mouth from all the dishes that the temple sent for your breakfast. When Demsey had said for everyone at Masai Temple to make this extra special for you, this was it, you felt special alright. 

You missed a lot of these dishes from the different quarters of Dorierra.

After what was essentially brunch, your mother and your grandmother both explained and performed the different traditions throughout the day before everyone met up at the Temple and got ready for the procession. 

The temple provided the canopy’s frame but you already had your own Lari - a sheer fabric that had been heavily embroidered and had many aplicays and special components sewn into it so that it dazzled in any light and put over the frame so that you and both of your parents were “boxed in” by the Lari on the frame. 

“You still sure about this?” You father asked. 

“As sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west.” You answered happily and confidently as everyone got into position. 

Demsey stood in the main auditorium and felt like this place should be bursting at the seams with people, all of England should be here to see this, to hopefully see you in all your Dorierran glory but at the same time, he was grateful that there was only his family and yours and Myra and her family and of course the Raymonds, all of them sitting on the “bride’s side” as they traded compliments on their beautiful clothes as they waited for the auspicious time to approach. He was relived because this was a precious moment and you had spent almost all your life being judged. This one day, you shouldn’t have to feel that way. If anything, you should feel free from anyone’s judgement or criticisms. You had wanted only friends and family here, and thats who was here. Close friends and family. 

Everything was just so beautiful. There were so many flowers, so many bright colors in all the inlay in the walls, in the ceiling, in everything, even the benches for the pews had gorgeous inlay in them covered in soft cushions. His family sat on what they were told was the groom’s side as Javyn stood next to him and then his brothers forming a row after him because that’s what the director told them to do as the priest, dressed in wonderful splendor themselves simply held his extraordinary copy of the tomb of all the holy books sewn together on gilded pages. 

Then the moment came and your grandmother started things off with a really high pitched yell like call that was soon echoed by all the women in your party including yourself, your voices harmonizing and echoing the large dome and filling the whole place with song as Yalin beamed excitedly and nearly was bouncing out of her seat as she started making the same sound and clapping excitedly to the beat of the music that the band that was off the side instantly started to play as Demsey couldn’t help it, he laughed as his family took Yalin’s cue as did her own family all clapped with her along with Myra and her family started clapping in the same rhythm that Yalin was clapping in as Demsey’s family did the same as the procession came down the aisle all dancing to the beat in the same synchronized dance to the song as all the guys in your family were chanting away in answer to all the girls doing the same high pitched yell that even Yalin couldn’t help but call out which your bridal party all beamed happily at her and did the same as Demsey and the rest of them just clapped along too and watched on happily as Demsey tried looking around the bridal party to see this large golden canopy being held by the attendants from the temple that was being was being bounced with the music, so that the whole thing shimmered and danced with the beat too as he could almost make out three figures inside of it. 

You stood in between your parents, all three of you dancing inside of it as all three of you seemed to move as one. 

Even though you were wearing the whole bridal dress set and what felt like 30 pounds of gold and jewels, your spirit felt weightless and your whole body practically glowed with happiness as your moura marks on your skin went off like fireworks constantly as your parents watched them and smiled to each other because only when a moura was truly in love and purely happy, did their marks light up like yours were doing in this moment which made their own marks light up happily. 

The closer Demsey tried to look, the harder it was to see inside the canopy, all he could make out was outlines but he still recognized the lights from the moura marks and recalled that only when you were really happy and in a state of euphoria had he seen them “go off” like this which made him happy that you were so happy.

He was practically overwhelmed already, the music was like an explosion of excitement and happiness and everyone’s bright smiles as even the other moura’s marks were lighting up, like it was almost contagious as he realized- it was like a wave, a pulse, like heartbeats that were the frequency of the way they were lighting up before the whole procession came and he was put face to face with the canopy before the song ended and then your father untied one of the corners and exited the canopy dressed in his own splendor and pulled out a sword and simply let the blade rest on Demsey’s shoulder but the edge of the blade still gently touched Demsey’s neck as your father proceeded to carry on “the questioning” in marinai which was the traditional way as the priest acted as a translator and translated the words your father was saying as it was basically a request to make an oath, to love, honor, dignify, protect and provide as a husband to you- his wife, his most beloved in all of the universe. It sounded gorgeous in marinai and it even rhymed. 

In English however it didn’t rhyme so much as some of the words the priest had to translate and explain some of the terms so that Demsey could completely understand them and that at any point, he had the choice to either back out of the wedding and leave with his head on his shoulders, or if there any doubt that he could not hold up these terms, to move his body into the blade or else a curse worse than death would befall him and all his relation as his parents looked at each other meaningfully, because when Jodhaa and the others had told them about this part, they made it sound like it was no big deal but in reality, this was life or death, either spend your life loving the other person as wholly and completely as you could, or die. 

Demsey however wasn’t intimidated or put off or affronted by any of this, in fact he was all too happy to swear and pledge his life and agreed to the vows and live up to it every day for the rest of his life as your father simply smiled happily and nodded but kept his sword there before it was your mother’s turn to leave the canopy and have her own oath to make Demsey swear by as your mother actually pulled out a list and unfolded which made everyone else in your family snicker a laugh because she was very, very thorough as she took a dagger and quickly put it under Demsey’s chin and all she would have to do is move her other hand in an upward motion to actually decapitate him as your father’s sword was on the other side of his neck. 

Your mother’s vows were not only just a repeat of what your father had said but actually included much, much more, and not just Demsey, but his whole family and household so that you almost asked for a stool so you could sit down for the duration as your mother went through every conceivable scenario where a man might become upset with his wife or inlaws might be upset with a daughter in law as Demsey could only smile appreciatively at your mother, who he could tell was doing her best to make sure that your past, would never, ever repeat itself and was more than happy and ready and willing to agree to every tiny stipulation she was giving him before she finally reached the end of her list as everyone seemed to finally breathe a sigh of relief when your mother removed the dagger from his neck and your father, his sword and put them away before they both came back over to the canopy and lifted the front to reveal you before Demsey came forward and lifted your golden veil up to reveal your face as Demsey audibly gasped which got everyone to softly laugh at his reaction. 

“You have never been more beautiful, than you are right now.” Demsey readily professed which nearly got you to cry but you were just so happy that he felt that way, almost fearing that he would look at all of this and not recognize you in it or think this was too extravagant or unnecessary. 

“And you have never looked more handsome.” You professed as you readily took the veil and put it into position over the borla of the tikka to keep the veil in place as the band then played the more traditional hymns for the ceremony. 

But just the look in his eyes told you that all he saw, was you, the whole, real you- in this moment before he offered his hand out to you as you reached out and held it as the priest invited you up onto the platform as Demsey helped you sit down first before he sat next to you in the center set of seats as your parents sat on one side while his parents were invited up to sit in the other as the priest then went through the very lavish ceremony as flower garlands were put over your neck and his that were united together as you just could not let go of Demsey’s hand. You wanted to pinch yourself. This was all you had ever dreamed of as a little girl. Granted it wasn’t in the temple in the Hanging Garden Quarter but Masai Temple was the next best thing and you were still getting married with Calla, Lody and Jenni as your bridesmaids. And your parents blessing and of course Demsey’s parent’s blessing too as you could see Sierge and Javyn being torn between looking at you and Demsey and looking at Lody and Jenni respectively as Jenni and Lody were all bright, eager and happy smiles. 

After the ceremony and after everyone signed the marriage certificate, you and Demsey were then walked back to the canopy as the attendants lifted the veil and you both stood in it as the band started up again as you both were escorted to the banquet hall to the head table before the canopy was put over the large sitting booth and the front was lifted and pulled over the back so that it was now open to everyone before everyone got their seats a massive feast was brought out as you walked Demsey through how to eat it and how to feed each other as you went through each dish and excitedly told him about each component of each dish as your family did the same for everyone else in Demsey’s family since the feast, didn’t need to be separated by sides but everyone could mingle together along the long lines around the center that was reserved for the dancing later on where the band followed and set up on a little platform for them to continue to play the lighthearted and happy music. 

“Thank you,” you thanked Demsey after you chewed and swallowed the bite he had so delicately and affectionately put into your mouth. 

“You’re welcome. This is really awesome, I had no idea Dorierran weddings were so beautiful. It makes English weddings feel like funerals.” Demsey confessed as you couldn’t help but laugh at the comparison and nodded your agreement. 

“Oh just wait, when the sun goes down and the cloud lights come on, then the real fun begins.” You hinted with an excited giggle. 

And sure enough, the moment it was dark, the cloud lights were shown in before the black light cloud was turned on and soon everyone glowed which caused a chorus of cheers and laughter as the music changed too as Demsey and yourself danced the night away. Javyn and Jenni were dancing awfully close and wouldn’t dance with anyone else other than each other as Sierge was acting the same way with Lody. 

“I want to court you.” Sierge confessed to Lody as they swayed to the music as Sierge used Lody’s own rhythm to set his own as his body felt glued to hers as most of the guests by this point and started to remove the veils leaving the women in their little tops that showed off their upper chests, arms and bellies while the men were free to take their shirts off to showcase the designs painted on them as now under the black light the true beauty of all the designs could be appreciated. 

“Then you must do something for me.” Lody began as she turned and pressed her front to his so she could reach his ear as she pulled him towards her as he happily let his arms loop around her and hold her close as he was dying to kiss her. 

“I want you to realize that right now, you’re under the influence of the henna and you’re probably feeling like you’re half in love with me and really deep into a love drunk haze, right?” Lody questioned as she looked up into his eyes firmly but she wasn’t smiling. If anything she looked upset which made him frown to see her react that way. 

“Right?” She repeated as she held his face in her hands as he nodded and all she could do was give him an apologetic smile.  

“Sierge, I need you to know that what you’re feeling, it’s not real and tomorrow, you’re going to wake up and feel different. You’ve only known me for a few days, not even a whole week and we are barely aquaintances, I’m just a friend of your now sister in law and barely friends with you. And while there is an attraction between us, right now, that’s all it is. Give yourself a month maybe even two months, after all of this henna fades, and all the hair I removed from you grows back full force. If your attraction to me is still with you at that point, then reach out to the stables and we’ll see where that leads. But if your attraction and affection for me fades with the henna, do not begrudge yourself or me. Jenni enhanced the henna you’re wearing, she added extra aphrodisiac to the mix so that her own attraction to Javyn and his attraction to her would be enhanced as well. And she has her own reasons for doing so and she will get to deal with the consequences of that, good or bad. I tried refilling the henna tubes from the mix on the outside of the bowl, the bits that weren’t so enhanced so that you wouldn’t fall prey to it but you still are. You need to be done being the victim, either intentionally or unintentionally. The quick fix doesn’t always solve your problems but usually causes two new ones. Don’t do anything too quickly unless you’ve thought it through and weighed and measured all the variables, including your own true feelings without anyone or anything manipulating you. We are at a wedding and we’re both wearing wedding henna, so of course we feel this way about each other right now. But tonight, after the wedding. I’m not going home with you. I’m not sleeping with you and I’m definetely not going to have any kind of sex with you either. If you really want me, you’re going to have to work for me and earn me the old fashioned way. And I need you to know, that I’m similar to Benny in a lot of ways, but nothing like her in a lot of others. And the last thing I want is for my mate- whoever he is, to look at me and think of her. It’s not fair to either of us. So after this dance, dance with anyone else, other than me. Please. For your own good.” Lody pleaded with Sierge who both had to respect but secretly resent her choice becuase it was the opposite of his wants. 

“Please Sierge, if you like me at all, respect me and my stance on this and don’t turn a deaf ear to this.” Lody pressed and while her words broke his heart all over again, he could find nothing to argue with and instead took her hands off his face and instead kissed her knuckles. 

“OK, I submit.” Sierge professed. 

“Your future self, thanks you, as does mine.” Lody offered before she kissed his cheek sweetly before she left and put as much space and distance between them as she could because she was this close to saying ‘to hell with it’ and throwing propriety and her own self control out and fucking him against the closest private wall. She had never felt that drawn to anyone that strongly before and she felt like she was fighting for her life.

“Lody, it’s just the henna, it’s just the henna.” She insisted to herself as she drank down a full glass of wine and got a second as Siege had gone to the other end of the place and was doing the same as he was inwardly cursing himself and Benny for fucking up a perfectly good romance with a wonderful young woman who had so much wisdom beyond her years and he was already seeing her face every time he closed his eyes but his soul was still stining and aching from the damage Benny had done as Sierge simply sat down and didn’t sulk persay, but he definitely sat down in a spot that gave him a clear view of Lody who was also seated and eating more of the sultan cake that made up the wedding cake. It was completely different than anything any of the Voyambis or the Bellafonts had ever had. Yalin hadn’t even gotten a chance to have it since her youth as even she and Gregori had chipped in for the wedding, wanting to add something even more special to the celebration of your wedding. 

Javyn and Jenni were practically in their own little world on the dance floor, dancing chest to chest and literally nose to nose when they weren’t cheek to cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he had his arms wrapped around her back as they swayed in place as all the other couples were in a similar state, including yourself, except for your grandmothers who were now seated on either side of Lody, keeping her company. 

“You did the best thing you could have done.” Your grandmother Anavia encouraged Lody. 

“Then why does it feel like a kick in the chest?” Lody asked as she ate what was left on her plate before getting thirds of her favorites. 

“Because your pride is wounded too. Every other victim that has come to Dorierra angry, hurt and upset, you were removed from them and strangers to them. This time it feels personal because of your own attraction to him which he is obviously returning because even now he is refusing to dance with anyone but you, which is a good sign actually. Sierge strikes me as someone who has always had things handed to him and now, he must actually put forth effort and work. If he succeeds, a good, stable match can be made.” Loreiris predicted as she stared Sierge down from across the room, studying him. 

“How long did you say you gave him?” Anavia asked. 

“A month after the henna fades and his hair grows back.” Lody answered. 

“So three months, that should be more than enough time for him to heal and learn his lessons.” Anavia grinned. 

“Well, that’s if he doesn’t scrub his skin raw trying to scrape it off this week.” Lody murmured as her eyes moved back to Jenni and Javyn. 

“How long do you give them?” Lody asked Anavia. 

“Before intimacy? Tonight. For marriage? Weeks. She’ll fly back and start preparations the moment she lands. It will be rushed, but happy but because they are not taking time now, they will have their fair share of misunderstandings and differences. But if Sierge follows your advice and you follow your own, you’ll have far less, which will be good. The Voyambis won’t know what to do with themselves, because they’ll practically have all moura inlaws and all sweethearts.” Anavia reassured her. 

“But what if Benny’s own damage is too far for any of us to understand and he goes English?” Lody murmured worriedly. 

“Once anyone gets a taste of what a good moura woman is, no other can compare. English ladies, from what I’ve seen are white blanks of paper, you and all other moura women are masterpieces. It is true that the reason English ladies are bred to be that way is so that their male counterparts may draw on them and arrange them to how they want them to be and what they want to see. But moura women already come fully colored and fully realized pieces of art and therefore don’t need anything else from a mate, plus most men are shit artists.” Loreiris appraised which got Lody to snort a laugh. 

“That’s true.” Lody had to agree. 

“But Sierge has realized he’s made a mess of a work of art that was already fraying at the edges. The next work of art, he will be much more careful with.” Anavia ventured. 

“Let’s hope so.” Lody sighed. 

“Time for the finale! We have arranged a firework show for you!” Yalin announced as people started to stop dancing and wear themselves out before you all happily left the room and made your way to the roof where a series of beds were laid out as you and Demsey reclined on the most lavish one since they were the bride and groom as others took on the others as Sierge requested for Lody to join him on one in particular and Lody could not refuse him as they laid down, the soft cushy pillows and mattresses a great comfort as the blankets set out were unfolded and put over them to keep them from the chill in the air before they were given the signal to light them as everyone happily laid back comfortably and watched the show that practically all of London got to see. 

You cuddled into Demsey’s side, the blanket covering up to your chin as he happily laid with you into his side as you both watched in amazement as the most beautiful fireworks started to light up the sky as you felt your love for Demsey do the same in your heart. Exploding in size and color as Demsey put his other hand protectively over your belly. 

“Protecting them from the booms of the fireworks are you?” You murmured to Demsey between all the explosions. 

“Perhaps.” Demsey smiled. 

“Moura’s have been bred to have extra strong wombs, if the baby has survived mourkatili. Surely it’s strong enough to survive the booms from fireworks. But you’re free to try to protect them anyway.” You gently reassured him. 

“I swear on my life, to do everything in my power to protect them and you, for you are all that I hold dear.” Demsey swore before he kissed you sweetly before the next explosion lit up the sky and pulled your attention back. 

“Are you happy with your wedding?” Demsey asked. 

“Very, but I’m most happy with my groom.” You reassured him. 

“And I, with my bride.” Demsey mirrored. 

Meanwhile Javyn and Jenni were in a similar state while Sierge laid down and gradually scooted closer and closer to Lody before their arms were touching before he oh so carefully reached down and over to her, letting his forefinger gently graze the outside of her hand before she turned her head to look over at him and gave him a peculiar look before she gave in and intertwined her fingers with his, holding his hand over the blanket as they watched the fireworks. 

“When will you go?” Sierge asked Lody. 

“Probably the day after tomorrow. My mother informed me that my price got settled on but won’t tell me what it is. But don’t worry, it’s not like grooms are lining up for me, waiting on me to come home. The process to even get to see potential grooms is exhausting for both parties. It could be a year or two before I ever got to be introduced to any potential grooms. So you have plenty of time to think it over and weigh and measure to see if it’s really worth the trouble and the hassle. Audra’s grandmother made the point that English ladies are a bit like blank canvases. Built to be durable and blameless, but blank. So that their male counterparts may paint them up and build onto them whatever they want and whatever they need. Moura ladies are all together different. We are no blank canvas or a sculpture made of pure white marble. We are masterpieces of our own. Some of us like to use color to impress and intrigue the eye and with some, the paint is not yet dry and the final coat of lacquer isn’t applied yet and are ever changing to suit the eye of the beholder. Others are so strict about technique that they don’t bother to notice that the artwork is rather boring, even if the techniques are flawless. Others like big bold messy and sloppy strokes but so much color it’s almost overwhelming. Some are big and grand and take up a whole room. Others barely take up a pocket in coat. I want you to heal, and then think long and hard about what you really want and what you really need before you try to appraise any more art.” Lody insisted. 

“Even when a priceless masterpiece such as yourself is before me?” Sierge returned. 

“Yes. Clean the paint off of you from the last artwork you appraised before you look at any other, some paints stain harder than others and paint from one painting may stain another if you go from one to another too quickly and I would hate to see you feel you had a hand in ruining any other artwork or to feel that an artwork has ruined you either.” Lody advised. 

“Make sure you’re clean, hands, body, clothes and all. And do your research and homework to make sure that what you’re looking at and dealing with is an actual masterpiece, not just smears of paint on a canvas by a toddler fingerpainting, or even the work of a con, trying to sell a fake and sketching that looks more like scribbles as if it were a masterpiece and trying to pass off the work of a degenerate as the work of a true artisan and genius.” Lody continued as they stayed side by side, staring up the fireworks lighting up the sky. 

“Not all the works in a gallery are priceless treasures. And not all masterpieces are big or have fancy frames with loud bright colors. A proper masterpiece has balance between light and shadow, shape, form and composition. And sometimes the more subdued coloring helps you focus on the focal point, instead of overwhelming you with chaos. The eye grows tired and fatigued quickly when faced with such works. But the truly pleasant artwork, with subtle intricacies. The kind that you can spend hours looking at and still feel like you could spend hours more and still have another new detail to appreciate, and the kind of painting you’re happy to own that brings you peace in not just your mind, but in your heart and your soul too? That is truly priceless.” Lody insisted. 

“Because no matter how pretty the picture, or how well the execution of techniques may be or how bright the colors are, no work of art is worth your dignity, integrity or honor and do not put a price on things that should never have had a price to begin with. The truth is what matters, as does faithfulness. Because colors fade, paint cracks with age and time, and dim lighting can’t help you see it or remember it as it once was and poor care can deteriorate it to the point that you no longer want it in your house and so it loses value over time. When you put a price on the priceless all you do is cheapen yourself, and your house. And while it doesn’t make sense that a priceless work of art would be found in a dilapidated shed by the sea. That isn’t to say the painter who lives in the shed can’t paint it either. Just as a painter will let their work speak for them and itself, don’t think that because one work of art by an artist is one way, that all the works by them will be that way too. Everyone starts somewhere. No one is born a master, it takes time and patience and perseverance and practice. And I’m still young, I’m still learning to master even the basics, my masterpiece is not yet done and who knows, in a month or two, three or even six, or even a year or two or five, who knows what I’ll be then and you may not like what you see then.” Lody advised. 

“How old are you again?” Sierge asked. 

“Twenty,” Lody answered. 

“You speak as if you’re five times that age.” Sierge praised. 

“Well, my grandmother tells me that there is a fine line to be walked. There is a balance between wanting to be the smartest person in the room and needing to see others as they are and deciphering their intentions and thinking and to correctly predict their moves so that you can counter successfully instead of just reacting to others reactions, like playing chess. And there is always a need to surround yourself with people wiser than yourself, because if you’re the smartest person in the room, you need to get into another room. And if you surround yourself with people more stupid than yourself for the purpose of feeling like the smartest in the room, then you’ve made a mistake because stupid has a tendancy to rub off on others and even a wiseman arguing with an idiot, to the passerby’s, you can’t easily distinguish between the two.” Lody paraphrased from all the wise principles she had been taught by her elders. 

“And a truly wise person will have the humility to know that they don’t have all the answers. Nor do they have all the knowledge or the wisdom but they will be hungry for it just like food or water.” Lody recounted, grateful she had been listening and paying attention to such wisdom from her grandmother just as the finale of the fireworks show lit up the sky as Lody gave Sierge’s hand a good squeeze before she let go of his hand only to roll over to her side to kiss him on the cheek sweetly only to be surprised when Sierge did the same and met her lips with his own and kissed her earnestly and was delighted when she kissed back and just as the kiss deepened and it was very evident that both of them wanted this to progress, Lody put on the breaks and pulled away and gave him an apologetic smile as she pulled herself away from him, leaving him scrambling to get up with her as she quickly picked up the blanket and put it between them as she folded it. 

“Good night Sierge Voyambi, it was a pleasure to spend the evening with you. Please remember my advice.” Lody requested before she curtsied respectfully and put the now folded blanket back down on the bed and quickly left, leaving Sierge rather bewildered and aching from her loss as he tried to give chase but she was swifter and almost vanished as attendants came and escorted you and Demsey to the honeymoon suite that was in the inn just next door while the others said their goodbyes and began to depart while Jenni and Javyn discretely got a room at the inn themselves. 

Once your family returned to your home they found Lody packing up and already wearing her riding leathers. 

“Why are you leaving so soon? Is everything ok?” Loreiris asked. 

“Did you ever meet someone that made you question everything and make you want to throw out all the principles and everything you stand for and you knew if you stayed, you were going to lose all your self control and make the same mistake others did and turn into the biggest hypocrite?” Lody asked as she carried her now packed bag out to the stables and started to saddle her own griffin who was excited to get out of the stable and stretch their wings out. 

“Yes, I see it scares you as much as it did me the first time I felt it.” Loreiris noted as Lody laughed mirthlessly, almost mockingly at herself. 

“All he did was kiss me and somehow it was as if it was my first real kiss all over again and it was like he set me on fire and even now my heart and soul are still ablaze and it’s as torturous as it is pleasurable. Now I can no longer find fault with Benny taking advantage of him because right now I want the same thing, and that makes me no better than her and my own pride and dignity is incensed by that and there is war going on within me and if I stay I’m going to make the same mistakes she did and I can’t do that to Sierge, he just had his heart and soul ripped from his body and mauled and ripped apart and as much as I can sympothize with that and want to fix it, I know it’s not my job to clean up my cousin’s messes, and it’s not my place to do so either and as much as I want to blame my feelings and my instincts on this stupid henna, I know it has nothing to do with it and it’s a sad, cheap scape goat. I spent all night practically quoting every principle from every holy book I’ve read and as much as I wanted to tell myself that I did it for Sierge’s benefit, I also did it for my own, to remind myself that I’m just as raw as he is and it’s not Sierge’s place to fix me either and not his job to fix Finn’s messes in me. My mother told me this morning that my price got settled just this morning and I know she is already hard at work trying to orchestrate potentials for me and I know Sierge won’t pass her tests just based on Benny’s past with him. I tried to tell him that he had plenty of time to work on himself and to heal but...I don’t know if that will be true when I get home.” Lody confessed as she tried to keep her composure and not cry but she was failing as tears escaped her eyes and ran her eye makeup. 

“So now you think flying a thousand miles will put out the flames?” Loreiris posed. 

“No, but it will hopefully die them down to embers because if I stay I’ll be consumed as will he and I can’t imagine the damage this blaze will inflict, and then he really will swear off mouras forever and make things difficult for Audra and Calla and I can’t do that to them, I love them too much to even chance that their soon to be home life will be endangered, especially on my account.” Lody confessed. 

“So tomorrow, when Sierge comes looking for you, what do you want me to tell him?” Loreiris asked as she handed Lody her bridal. 

“Tell him the truth. He has been lied to enough. The truth is all I can offer him and if he can’t be satisfied with that, then there is nothing that can be done.” Lody answered. 

“Good. Do yourself the favor by writing down all that you told him and live by your own advice.” Loreiris advised. 

“Will do.” Lody nodded as she wiped her eyes before she hugged Loreiris tightly. 

“I’ll see you soon, fly safe Lody.” Loreiris offered. 

“Thank you.” Lody whispered. 

“And of course give my apologies to Audra for leaving without saying goodbye.” Lody requested. 

“Of course.” Loreiris readily agreed as Lody pulled away and then hoisted herself up into the saddle and took off into the night, using the stars to orientate her as she flew home. 

Meanwhile Demsey had finally taken off all the jewelry and clothes from your body and had taken several long moments appreciate every inch of skin and it’s decoration, with his mouth and his hands before me made love you slowly and sensually. Almost overwhelming you with pleasure as he practically worshiped your body with his own as he murmured the sweetest most wonderful things to you as you did the same. 

Meanwhile only a few rooms down Jenniverre and Javyn were giving into the effects of the extra strong and potent henna and throwing all caution to the wind as Javyn was having the single greatest sexual encounter of his life because Jenni was practically a fantasy brought to life. 

She was sexy and sultry without being vulgar. She was innocent without being too prudish, she was clever without being cold, warm and affectionate without being too forward, she was the perfect balance of everything. She was so much more than he had ever dreamed of wanting. She was a vision, a complete and flawless work of art and all his. He had no idea that such an exquisite woman existed, much less would be interested in him, much less would return his attentions and affections and suddenly it was like she was the only woman in the world and the only other being in the universe that mattered. 

And Javyn swore that he would make her his wife come hell or high water. He would be traveling to Dorrierra as soon as he could liquidate as many assets as he had because her current price was more than he had but by the gods, he would take out a loan or do payments with the stables if he had to. She needed to be his. Because he needed her like air in his lungs. She was his missing puzzle piece. She was his world. When at first he had thought that Demsey had been rather reckless to move so quickly but now, with his very own moura, he understood. Time was a factor that didn’t necessarily matter in such a case as this. Only two weeks ago he would laughed such a thing off as ridiculous but now, it made so much sense. Just like knowing when was a good moment to buy something valuable before it would be lost forever or go to another buyer. Like getting a preview of the goods before an auction. But he would aghast to have any other having Jenni. He knew an excellent thing when he saw it and he was going to claim it before it could be claimed by another. 

Meanwhile Sierge sat at his desk at his London home and tried to write down every little thing that happened, every word Lody spoke to him as his memory was only too happy to replay it all for him. He had never been more determined in his life. He was going to prove himself worthy of such a wonder. Kissing Lody was like feeling fireworks in his soul and not just seeing them with his eyes. She had tasted addictively good and while he wished he could be proving the validity and earnestness of his affections, he was so impressed that she had so much self control to withdraw before things progressed any farther. 

It only spoke to her exquisite character. And he was adamant that he was going to earn every inch of respect and admiration from her. He was going to take her words to heart and live by them from now on and his instincts were screaming at him that he would only benefit by living by them. His heart and soul were on fire but instead of the disastrous forrest fire that Benny seemed to ignite, this was altogether different. It was like she set off a firework inside of him and he was going to light up her life with delight. He was going to do everything she asked him to, he was going to make her proud of him. He needed to prove that he was more than what Benny made him out to be as he even wrote down what her last words to him were because if that was the benchmark, he could surpass it. He had to, if it was the last thing he ever did. 

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks to @teamhook for giving me all the stubbly men

In the Offing

Chapter 17 — Hat Trick

Summary: In which our heroine believes in magic

Chapter 17 on AO3

“When you move

I can recall something that’s gone from me

When you move

Honey, I’m put in awe of something so flawed and free”

-Movement, Hozier

It had been a rainy couple of days since her trip out to the cabin with Graham. They had originally planned to meet up again and scan the area to see if they could find the Blanchard remains but the weather had prevented any chance of that. Instead, they had traded texts that included her thanking him for going on record with the paper to say she was no longer a suspect in the shooting. She had noticed a definite warming toward her by the citizens after his comments were splashed across the front page.

Of course it being Storybrooke, rumors had already begun to fly about who would take her place on the most wanted list. She avoided all requests for interviews and tried to focus on the task of finding the responsible party, encouraged every day by the positive news she received from August’s medical team.

Graham wasn’t the only one she had been texting with. As the date of the wedding drew closer, she started receiving messages from Elsa and her sister Anna, who happened to be a ball of chaotic energy that would put a toddler to shame. They were constantly inviting her over to help with this or that stage of the planning but she thought maybe it was really to make sure she didn’t disappear before the ceremony.

It seemed like the only person she hadn’t talked with was the one person to whom she actually had something to say. However, fulfilling his duties as best man had forced Killian into a last minute trip to Boston with Liam to pick up tuxedos and flowers arrangements. She had stopped by the cottage a couple of times to try to catch him, feeling that what she had to say would be better in person than by phone, but she never managed to connect.

So it was that Saturday evening under a clear twilight sky, she pulled up to the cottage. Nervously she ran her hands down her pale pink dress to smooth it as she tried not to think about the fact that she hadn’t spoken with Killian since she hung up on him several days ago. The front yard, which stretched down in a gentle rolling hill to a bluff that provided a beautiful ocean view, was transformed. There were a couple of large, white tents set up to accommodate the ceremony and the reception. Due to the heavy rain, someone had the forethought to have planking laid down in a walkway to the tents, which had also been raised on platforms and contained a beautiful hardwood floor to provide some protection from the wet ground.

As Liam had predicted, it appeared as though the entire town did show up. Waving at several people who caught her eye, she started to make her way over to Mary Margaret and David. Taking in the way their gazes never wavered from each other, she guessed that their wedding day wouldn’t be too far behind. Before she could reach them, Anna came flying over to her nearly vibrating with excitement. “Where are you going? I saved you a seat in the front row next to Kristoff.”

“Oh, that wasn’t necessary,” she protested. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself by sitting in a row normally reserved for family. Plus, if she was being completely honest, she wasn’t sure she could take being in close proximity to Killian while he was sporting a tux. The man oozed sexual magnetism in jeans so one could only imagine the allure of him in formalwear. She didn’t need a repeat of the kitchen debacle from a couple of weeks ago while the whole town was watching.

“Emma,” Anna whined with a pouty expression. “Do you see how empty the family section is? It’s embarrassing. Not to mention that Kristoff might fall asleep if you aren’t there to nudge him from time to time.”

“Fine.” She gave in easily when she sensed eyes drifting their way in curiosity. Trying to take her mind off the fact she felt like an animal in a zoo, she smiled at the other woman and said, “You look great.”

As Emma took her seat, Anna twirled in a circle and squealed, “I do, don’t I? This has always been a good color on me. I’m so glad we talked Elsa out of the all that ice blue. I mean, it’s a summer wedding. We need bold colors and lots of skin.”

“You will hear no arguments from me, babe,” Kristoff joked with a wink. As she was finding to be the case with the young couple, once they were honed in on each other she could do as she pleased because they were oblivious. Trapped by the puppy love playing out in front of her, she used the opportunity to study the lovely white roses and low lighting that showcased the tent to its best advantage. She couldn’t help but wonder how they had pulled off such an elaborate event with only days to plan.

Any thoughts she had about price tags and logistics were immediately frozen when she saw Liam and Killian step onto the stage about twenty feet in front of her. The Brothers Jones looked quite dapper and refined in their black tuxedos. Liam was calm and collected as always except for the faint hint of red across his cheeks, not even having one arm in a sling could diminish the happiness that radiated off him. Killian looked like a fantasy wrapped in a dream and dipped in chocolate.

Unfortunately, as she was feasting on him with her eyes he must have become aware of her idolizing stare. His penetrating blue gaze met hers full on for the first time in almost a week. Her heart beat out a painful thump at the emotion that flooded her but she couldn’t look away. He was perfect, from the top of his rumpled hair to the bottom of his precisely polished dress shoes. And she was an idiot.

“Geez, girl. Am I going to have to get you two a room so you don’t burn down the tent?”Startled out of her staring contest by Anna’s teasing, she looked over to see her companions watching her with matching grins. “Elsa mentioned there was something going on but she didn’t warn me that it was combustible.”

“Cute,” Emma said in tone that warned against further commentary. “Speaking of Elsa, shouldn’t you be helping your sister get ready?”

“Oh crap! I was supposed to be grabbing her a glass of water. See you guys later!”

For the next several minutes, Emma did her best to keep her gaze from wandering back to the stage even as she felt Killian’s eyes burning a hole through her. Kristoff was helpful in that regard because he was as much of a talker as his girlfriend, although in comparison he was still the shrinking violet in their relationship. The hum of conversations increased as the tent filled until the opening strains of the Wedding March began to play. As everyone stood to see the bride enter, she snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye and smiled shyly when she saw that Killian was staring back at her.

To no one’s surprise, Elsa made a beautiful bride. Her white blonde hair was styled in a complicated braid that looked soft and elegant. Her slender form was hugged by a white lace gown that looked fit for a queen. It was her serene expression that truly made her a beauty though. She had the look of a woman who couldn’t wait to start her future with the man waiting for her at the other end of the aisle.

Just like that, Emma felt tears forming. Luckily, she wasn’t the only one. There were several sniffles and weepy smiles in the tent as the pair shared their vows and promised to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives. Liam’s deep voice never faltered and when the minister pronounced them man and wife, he didn’t hesitate to kiss Elsa soundly in front of God and everyone. And for rather longer than strictly necessary.

Laughter ringing out at the groom’s enthusiasm, the crowd began clapping as the newly married couple led the way to the reception. They were followed by the best man and maid of honor, whose heads were bent together as if they were plotting to overthrow the government. Knowing the two of them, Emma couldn’t completely rule out the possibility.

Kristoff offered her his arm to guide her into the other tent but she waved him on. She needed some time to collect herself so she continued to observe from the fringe of the crowd. The first dance was a slow romantic matter replete with loving glances and sighs. The cutting of the cake was a dignified event regardless of the taunting of some of the more rowdy members of the audience. As the band struck up a new song, couples started making their way to the dance floor. She was pleased to see Mary Margaret and David were one of the first to go, smiling at each other with the kind of fondness that would never fade.

Trying to calm her racing heart, she knew she had put off her conversation long enough. As she stepped out of the shadows, she heard a familiar voice ask, “May I have this dance, Emma?”

Shocked out of her anxiousness, she turned to find Graham standing behind her with his hand extended. He looked striking in his suit, she had to admit. Not fantasy dream chocolate level, of course, but not hard on the eyes. Putting her hand in his, she allowed him to lead her out to the floor. “I’m surprised to see you here, Sheriff. Didn’t you used to date the bride?”

Cringing a bit and screwing up his face, he looked at her through one eye. “There’s that adorable directness. It was one date, a rather hopeless affair I’m afraid.”

“Oh well, there are other fish in the sea,” she murmured encouragingly, a little concerned at the longing she saw in his stare when he looked at her. He shuffled her around the edge of the dance floor, his eyes searching hers for something.

“There is one fish that I have an interest in,” he admitted. “But I’m afraid I might be a little too late to catch her.”

With regret for the hurt her next words would cause him because somewhere along the way she had come to really like him, she confirmed, “Yes, I think you might be.”

Nodding with understanding, he shifted his glance to the front of the tent where the wedding party was currently enjoying dinner. With a rueful smile, he commented, “I’m guessing by the daggers that Killian is currently shooting my way that I have been bested by another Jones.”

Touching his cheek gently to bring his attention back to her, she teased, “Third time is the charm, my friend. To my knowledge, there aren’t any other brothers to contend with. Go forth with confidence and find yourself a lady worthy of you.”

Graham smiled down at her. The song ended but he held her an extra second, squeezing her waist affectionately before stepping back. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and swept a soft kiss near her wrist while looking at her with eyes full of laughter. “Let’s see if that brings your erstwhile suitor running.”

Shaking her head at him, she grinned at his back as he disappeared into the crowd. She started toward an empty chair a couple of tables away when she felt someone approach from behind. She knew without turning that it was Killian. The air around her electrified when he got near.

“Swan, where do you think you’re going?”

“I was going to sit down and enjoy dinner, Dr. Jones. What brings you by?”

“I want to dance with you,” he stated, his gaze roaming over her like a caress. Holding out his hand, he continued, “You have the rest of your life to avoid me, love. Where’s the harm in one dance with a partner who actually knows what he’s doing?”

He really had no idea of the hold he had over her. He was still under the impression she planned to walk away. Yet there he was, reaching out to her as if her touch wouldn’t leave bruises. He may be the bravest man she ever met.

“I think I’m willing to risk it,” she whispered huskily as she eased into his arms. It was like coming home.

—

The night passed in a blur of champagne and dancing. Once Killian had her in his arms, he seemed loath to let her go, to the point of glowering at any man who approached. He did allow Liam a dance, and David and Kristoff grudgingly, but he always returned to her side as the final notes of the song played and pulled her into his arms again.

“I thought I agreed to one dance,” she teased, bracing herself one-handed on his shoulder as she tugged off her right shoe and massaged her foot. It was after midnight and the crowd had started to thin now that Liam and Elsa had run through a minefield of bubbles to the limousine that waited to take them to New York City for a mini-honeymoon. “I’m not sure my feet are going to recover.”

“Darling, if you can run down skips in stilettos a couple of dances with your many admirers shouldn’t be a problem,” he pointed out, dragging her out to the dance floor again. Willing to pay any price to continue to be this close to him, she plucked off her other shoe and tossed it gently under a nearby table. He abandoned his normal poise, wrapping his arms around her back and settling her against him in what amounted to little more than a hug. The world faded away as she rested her cheek against his chest.

The slow, romantic song continued to play in the background and he hummed the words as he swayed them gently in time to the music. She felt a tingle start at the base of her spine and work its way through her entire body. She didn’t even bother moving apart to say goodbye to Mary Margaret or Anna when they passed by to let them know they were leaving. When the band started to pack up and the caterers were tearing down tables, she observed quietly against his collar, “I think I ate too much cake.”

“You speak of the impossible,” he murmured into her hair.

“Killian,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Yes, love?”

“Will you take me home?”

Tightening his grip a bit, he answered, “Of course, Swan, but I let Kristoff and Anna borrow my truck so we’ll have to take your car. Where are your keys?”

“No,” she replied with a smile up at him. “To the cottage.”

Eyes widening in understanding, he asked, “Are you sure? There will be no coming back from this. No more running away, no more secrets. There’ll be no getting rid of me.” He waited patiently, his face inches from hers. She thought she detected the hint of a smile forming.

“I’m ready if you are,” she promised as she went up on tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

With a predatory grin, he deepened the kiss and before she knew what he was about, she was upended over his shoulder with her eyes having a very nice view of his lower back and beyond. “Let’s sail away, love.”

Shrieking over his laughter, she asked, “What in the world are you doing?”

“I can’t have you trudging through the mud and muck in your bare feet, Swan,” he explained with a fond pat on her bottom. She felt him glide through the tent and buried her face in her hands when she heard him say good night to several of the staff as they passed by.

“And you couldn’t carry me like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Too caught up in muttering promises of revenge, she didn’t realize they were at the porch until he gently lowered her to the floor. “There you are, my lady. Safe passage to the front door.”

They were eye level with each other since he was standing on the stair below her. The blue gleam of his gaze was unearthly. His mouth was curved in a playful smile but she could tell he was nervous. She thought he was probably afraid she would run again and realized that he stopped there for a reason, as if he wanted her to commit to this and move inside on her own two feet. Taking his face in her hands, she stared at him and hoped he could see everything she was feeling. “I’m sorry. For a lot of things, really. Most of all, I’m sorry if I made you doubt me, doubt this. I’ve wanted you since before we even met.”

“I never doubted you, Swan. Not for a moment. But you are an impossible woman sometimes,” he whispered, twisting his face to press his lips to her palm.

Stepping away from him, she reached out and let her hand trail slowly down his chest. With a saucy smile, she opened the door and backed into the living room. To her surprise, he didn’t trip over himself trying to get to her, rather he followed her inside and braced against the closed door, seemingly content to drink in the sight of her.

“I’ve dreamed of you every night since you left,” he admitted, hunger in his voice. “There were times I nearly got in my truck and drove to the loft.”

At this, he moved closer. His eyes never wavered from hers. She felt as though she had lost the ability to speak. He was the only person who could do this to her with nothing more than a look. He was standing so close she could feel the warmth of his skin, smell the champagne on his breath but he didn’t touch her. Instead, he leaned in and murmured, “Tell me, love, would you have let me in?”

When she did nothing but shiver, he continued, “If I had gotten down on my knees and begged, would you have opened your door?”

His lips skimmed softly over her cheeks, then forehead, then her chin. Fleeting caresses that felt like gossamer against her heated skin. “If I had promised to be your devoted subject and do your bidding always, would you have allowed me to share your bed?”

“Need I remind you what happened the last time you took your time,” she teased, her head light with desire. She had never felt like this before, this swirling, chaotic emotion that caused her to tremble. “Please.”

“Please what, darling?”

“Seal the deal,” she joked weakly, biting her bottom lip as she fought against the force of the passion that rocked her.

“You do have a way with words,” he teased. “I’m afraid the deal was sealed the minute we laid eyes on each other. Perhaps even before then. Fate hasn’t always been kind to me, love, but I’ll pay whatever price is needed a thousand times over to ensure that for the rest of our lives you continue to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now.”

With a whimper, she gave in to temptation and closed the distance between them. The magic he weaved with his honeyed tone and bewitching words was nothing compared to how it felt when he reached down to pick her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Without breaking their kiss, he carried her to the bedroom where he proceeded to show her how much he meant every single thing he said.

—

They didn’t leave the cottage for two days and she was certain there was not a surface that wasn’t put to good use during that time. It was as if the outside world no longer existed and Emma was happily ensconced in some odd alternative universe where she was content and loved.

Eventually she emerged long enough to let Mary Margaret know she was still alive, to chat with Henry, to check in on August, and to cancel search plans with Graham. She knew sooner or later she would have to go back to the loft to collect her things if nothing else. Luckily, her slovenly ways and hasty exit from the cottage after their fight had proved useful in one regard. She had left enough of her belongings behind that she wasn’t walking around in her wedding outfit the whole time. It had done strange things to her heart to realize that he had collected all the clothes she left after their argument and neatly folded them, placing them in the top drawer of his bureau.

She noticed other signs of him making room for her in his life and, beyond that, making her feel welcome. Her preferred coffee cup was always clean and ready for her each morning. He had stocked her favorite shampoo in the shower, although how he knew it was her favorite when she never mentioned it she was still trying to figure out. He had added a couple of books to his shelves for her after a late night conversation about classics she had never had the chance to read.

Even when she had left, even when she had pushed him away, he hadn’t retreated. Not entirely. He had merely given her space to figure out what he had probably know all along...that they were good together and that needing someone wasn’t something to be feared.

So it was with some chagrin that she awoke Tuesday morning to find the bed empty. The quiet of the cottage was like a slap in the face after several blissful days of being adored. Even knowing he had to drop Anna and Kristoff off at the airport before meeting a client that morning at the marina, she was still surprised at how lonely it was. She, the woman who prided herself on her independence and self-reliance, was pining for a man after a mere five hours apart.

The wizardry of Killian Jones was limitless.

Looking over at the clock, she realized that yearning was all well and good but breakfast would be better. Taking her time to get showered and dressed, she walked out to the kitchen island to find a vase full of yellow flowers, a package of strawberry poptarts, and a note from her—whatever Killian was to her now—inviting her to join him at the marina when she woke up.

Grabbing a cup of cold coffee to go and the breakfast he left her, she ventured outside for the first time in days to find the sun shining brightly and the temperature pleasantly warm. She hastily ate her breakfast one-handed while driving to the marina with the windows rolled down. There was absolutely no traffic on the road and she pulled into the parking lot convinced that she was the only living soul in the area. Locking her car, she made her way to the last dock where the pirate ship was moored passing only one person on the way, a strikingly familiar redhead that caused her to do a double take.

Staring after the woman, she heard Killian shout. “Swan! I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”

Dragging her eyes away from the retreating figure, she faced the man who was responsible for the increasingly frequent smile to be found on her lips. “Never, Dr. Jones.” Climbing aboard, she gave him a quick kiss that he seemed to take as a challenge to extend. “Was that—“

“Ariel?” Killian continued to pepper her face with sweet kisses as if supremely unconcerned that there was a Hollywood starlet wandering around the docks. “Yes, she was the client I was meeting with this morning. The studio sent her to be briefed on pirate lore. I had intended to introduce you but my little Sleeping Beauty couldn’t be bothered to roll out of bed at a decent hour.”

Snickering because they both knew why she needed the extra sleep, she allowed him to pull her into the Captain’s Quarters and promptly make her forget her own name.

[jamilelucato]

Satisfied [F. W.]

Summary: y/N Bilmes is the daughter of the owner of the Zonko’s Joke Shop, Bilton Bilmes, and, in her sister’s wedding day, she remembers a night with Fred Weasley when she learned she would never be satisfied.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Bilmes!reader (platonic)

Musical Hogwarts Series || Harry Potter Masterlist

A/N: it’s angsty because this song is angst! But I hope you all like it! It has an open end, where you can interpret it as you see fit. PS: gif is not mine so I have no idea if that’s really James (Fred) or Oliver lol. PS 2: Bilton Bilmes is the guy who works at Zonko’s when you play the app Hogwarts Mystery and my quick research told me that Bilmes might be the owner now, who knows.

Based on the song Satisfied from the musical Hamilton (no need to like the song to read/understand the fic!)

“Alright, alright. That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Now, everyone, give it up for the maid of honour: y/N Bilmes!” 

Lee Jordan’s voice echoed through the ballroom, accompanied by clapping. You stood up, wiping your hands on the skirt of the blue dress, chosen by your sister.

It was a beautiful model, with a slightly rounded skirt. The blue subtly highlighted your skin tone, but it certainly wouldn’t have been the colour you would’ve chosen.

Taking your wand out of your pocket, you marched to the small arranged stage and subtly cleared your throat.

“A toast to the groom!” you exclaimed, as soon as you chose a place to stand. You were in front of your sister, who had one of the most beautiful smiles on her face. You were avoiding looking at the groom, though.

The crowd of guests — your sister could not limit herself to inviting only the most intimate — echoed your words, raising her glasses of champagne. “To the groom!”

“To the bride!” you continued.

“To the bride!” mimicked the crowd.

“From your sister, who is always by your side,” you allowed yourself to smile while keeping your eyes fixed on your sister. “To your union!”

“To the revolution!” added some guests.

You shook your head, pretending not to mind the interruption of the guests.

“And the hope that you provide!” unconsciously, you brought the tip of your wand closer to your neck and the sensation was uncomfortable, but you kept smiling.

It was a beautiful scene, after all. 

Your youngest and only sister was getting married. And she was a beautiful bride...

“May you always...” you couldn’t avoid the groom any longer, “...be satisfied.”

The groom you were avoiding looking at was none other than Fred Weasley. And he was the love of your life. But the love of his life, unfortunately, was your sister.

He was beautiful that night. He had combed his red hair back and was probably using hair gel. His black suit clutched in the right places, enhancing the muscles earned in puberty.

In that light of the ballroom, his appearance reminded you of a night not long before this one...

You remember that night, and you just might regret that night for the rest of your days. You remember those soldier boys, believing they were the kings of the world just because they battled in the Battle Of Hogwarts. They were tripping over themselves to win the praise of the girls.

Hogwarts had been just reconstructed, but it looked as beautiful as ever. Generally, you and your sister avoided attending these types of social gala events, but as your own father said: the occasion was worth it.

The new Great Hall was decorated with dreamlike candles, like a dream that you can’t quite place.

You could have been distracted by the setting for hours and hours. Of course, that would have been if Fred Weasley hadn’t come in the front door as if he owned the space.

Fred, I’ll never forget the first time I saw your face, you thought.

Since that night, you have never been the same. He had intelligent eyes in a hunger-pang frame. He was saying hi to everyone, smiling brightly. Apparently, everyone knew who he was. You weren’t familiar with him, however.

When he walked towards you and said “Hi,” you forgot your social manners. It was rather embarrassing.

He chuckled at your blushed cheeks. 

You weren’t used to talking to guys, but he had set your heart aflame, every part.

“Dance with me,” he asked, noticing the songs had changed.

Hesitantly, it took you a second to regain your courage and accept the hand he held out to you. The band played a song with an unromantic but slow-paced lyrics, so several other couples were clinging to each other on the improvised dance floor.

Fred was a gentleman, holding you close to him, but with an impressive delicacy. You didn’t have much experience with men, but you knew from your friends’ stories in France that they could be quite inconvenient.

The dress you were wearing was a red a shade darker than the boy’s hair, which made it look like you two matched even more. He wore a two-piece suit with an orange shirt, but the suit was slightly greenish.

He didn’t try any risky dance moves, he just swung you from side to side, and you were grateful for that. He had a worse effect on you than drinking a whole bottle of alcohol, and if he tried a more difficult dance than that, you were sure it would be shameful.

“You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied,” he whispered, close to your left ear.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself,” his commented made you feel offended for a split second, so you leaned away from Fred a bit.

“You’re like me,” he said, in sweeter tone.“I’m never satisfied”

He was trying to show you that being satisfied was not a bad thing. It meant you always wanted more. And he could be right about that.

“Is that right?” you tried to sound as charming as you could, using all of the flirting tactics that your Beauxbatons friends taught you.

“I have never been satisfied,” he sighed, not in a tired way, but in an enchanting way like he was playing the same game as you.

The song, unfortunately, was over and the band drastically changed the tune to something more agitated. Some couples left the dance floor, but you and the red-haired boy stayed there, only letting go of each other but remaining very close.

You decided it was time to present yourself. “My name is y/N Bilmes.”

“Fred Weasley,” he informed smirking. 

“Weasley?” you repeated. The name seemed familiar.

“Yeah, but don’t let it fool you. There are a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait,” he shrugged, nervously, and offered to get yourselves a drink which you accepted.

While he was gone, somethings started to click in your mind. Your eyes wandered the room, looking for your sister. Would she like to know that you finally found someone at your level?

Fred made you feel the feeling of freedom, of seein’ the light in just a couple of minutes, perhaps a bit more. Every word said was in total agreement; he seemed to know more about you than you did yourself.

But then, you asked about his family, and his answer wasn’t promising. His hands started fidgeting, he looked askance — but his words were just trying to distract you. An attempt of making you forget who the Weasleys were, but with him away from you, the information appeared. The Weasleys were penniless, and a big, huge family.

But he is so handsome! Yeah, there was a peach fuzz that he can’t even grow, but somehow, that didn’t erase his charm. You wanted him. You desired him.

Maybe he could be yours, at least for the night. Your French friends did it all the time... Sure, you were bound to catch feelings, but he could catch them too, right?

Then you turned and saw your sister’s face, and she was helpless. She was following Fred with her eyes, and you needed no more signs of how she was feeling. Probably because you were feeling the same.

You realized three fundamental truths at the exact same time…

Fred came to you, giving you the second drink in his hands, but you barely grabbed before reaching for his arm and making him walk.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked after sipping his drink.

“I’m about to change your life,” you forced yourself to smile when he stared at you.

“Then, by all means, lead the way,” he smiled back.

The first thing you realized: You were a girl in a world in which your job was to marry rich. Not that your father would be mad if you didn’t, but the family had a significant debt that no one knew about, and it was you the one suppose to pay it.

You were the oldest and the wittiest, and the gossip in the Wizarding World was insidious, and Fred was penniless. As a Weasley, anyway, he had to be very much poor...

Perhaps he was rising... Wasn’t he one of the owners of that Joke Shop in Diagon Alley that your father was bothered about?

Ha! That doesn’t mean I want him any less, you thought.

You had approached your sister, who exchanged looks from you to the handsome boy. You raised your brows and tilted your head, wanting to say: present yourself.

She gulped before offering him her hand. “Elizabeth Bilmes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Fred handed you his glass as he grabbed her hand with both of his.

“Bilmes?”

“My sister,” you explained, but he still seemed confused.

“No, it’s just... the name sounds familiar.”

“Oh! Our father owns the Zonkos’s Joke Shop!” exclaimed Eliza, happy to help. “Perhaps you know him.”

Fred turned his face to you. “Why didn’t you mention?” he asked, but he wasn’t mad — he was excited.

There was the second thing you realized:

He’s after you because you’re a Bilmes heir, which would elevate his status— you’d have to be naïve to set that aside.

Maybe that is why you introduce him to Eliza, and, now, that’s his bride.

Nice going, y/N, he was right — you will never be satisfied.

Eliza was smart enough to continue the conversation while you were spacing out. “Thank you for all your service.”

It was well-known that the Weasleys played a significant part in the Battle, primarily because they were Harry Potter’s family.

“If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it,” Fred kissed her hand, but he kept his eyes on hers.

You were about to roll your eyes or vomit — which one was going to happen first you had no idea— so you decided it was time to leave.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

They didn’t even look back at you, so you just turned and walked away. With both Fred’s and your drinks on hand, you drank them fastly, not even caring for the bad taste it left in your mouth.

You couldn’t look back; you couldn’t let your mind wander about the likelihood that your sister and Fred were already kissing.

Eliza has always been more proficient with boys than you, even though she was shy and humbled, her face called attention, and it didn’t take long for a brave boy to court her. Even more different from you, she always accepted.

The third thing you realized that night:

You knew your sister like you know your own mind — you will never find anyone as trusting or as kind. If you told her that you love him, she’d be silently resigned — he’d be yours.

She would say, “I’m fine”, but she’d be lying.

You walked directly towards the bar, getting yourself a couple more drinks. You would need it.

Your father bumped into you, asking what was wrong, but he would never understand. He just couldn’t.

Maybe your mom would, but at the moment, she was back in Paris.

But when you fantasize at night, it’s Fred’s eyes, as you romanticize what might have been if you hadn’t sized him up so quickly.

At least your dear Eliza’s his wife; at least you keep his eyes in your life…

But you knew, as you watched their relationship grow — as you were obliged to listen to your sister ramble to you how gorgeous and romantic Fred was — you knew he would never be satisfied. But so wouldn’t you.

Shaking your head for a what felt like a full minute you were finally able to look way from Fred and so finally able to lock the memory of that night forever in your mind.

Putting the wand back in the dress pocked, you walked down the stage towards the couple’s table, and you let a tear go down. Eliza would think you were moved by the wedding; only you would know the truth.

You could hear claps, but you didn’t care.

“I’ll always be by your side,” you whispered to your sister as you hugged her tight. She cried too, but she was way more emotional than you.

You knew who you had to hug after her.

And he was already up waiting.

“May you always be satisfied,” you whispered to Fred as you hugged him, letting yourself breath his perfume guiltless.

You felt him gulp to your words, but he said nothing and pressed his hands on your waist harder than before.

The door of the ballroom was abruptly open, and every face in the place turned to see who it was. Fred let go of you and smiled when he noticed who was walking.

Eliza seemed to be smiling too, and she rushed to the door, following her groom.

“Who’s that?” you asked the lovely woman sitting down closer to you, but she was also so happy that you thought she wasn’t going to answer.

“Fred’s brother,” she explained to your surprise.

You looked at her table where already five of Fred’s siblings were sat.

“Another?”

The pretty red-haired girl answered after giggling.

“That one is his twin,” she said while you both — and all the guests — watched the touching hug Fred shared with the man walking in. “He left just after the war; he was so traumatized with almost dying and almost losing Fred.”

“He wanted to calm down alone,” added one of the red-haired boys who was seating next to the girl.

“Harry did the same, so the whole family understood George’s point,” finished the girl.

You stared back at Eliza, Fred and Fred’s twin. Eliza did mention Fred had a brother just like him, but you thought she meant like someone with similar personalities, not the same face.

The three walked towards the family table, and all of the red-hairs got up.

“Oh, Georgie!” gasped the elder woman before hugging the tall man.

He hugged everyone, even your parents and he stopped next to you.

Eliza made the introductions.

“George, this is y/N, my sister,” Eliza said, putting a hand on your shoulder while you offered your hand to the man.

George looked down at your hand, but completely ignored and pulled you in a hug, that made you gasp in surprise. He had a tight embrace.

“We’re family now, y/N. Get used to hugs,” he muttered before letting you go.

You smiled, sympathetic. He was as beautiful as his twin, but somehow his eyes were... better.

“She’s like my own twin,” continued Eliza to George who chuckled at the comment. “Sure, we don‘t look alike. But she’s everything to me.”

“Thanks, sis. You’re all to me too.”

The twins laughed at your exchange of love with your sister, and you two pretended to be angry. Then your father asked for the floor, and the whole moment was interrupted.

Someone got George a chair right next to yours, so you were both facing your father, and he kept thanking the boys for buying the Zonko’s and restoring it.

“I knew my best costumers would be my bosses one day,” he said, and the whole place laughed.

It was George who requested to talk after, and he made such a cute speech that even you were moved. It seemed that George was the emotional one from the twins, much like Eliza was the emotional one from you and her.

“And I’m sorry I came a little late,” George continued just before ending. “Forgot the address I had to Apparate.”

As expected, he finished making everyone laugh.

The night went on better than you imagined. There was a moment there when your French friends made you embarrassed, then it was your parents’ opportunity to make you ashamed, but after a couple of drinkings, you were laughing at their dance moves.

All the Weasleys were marvellous, and all of Fred’s brothers danced with you, even the married one — even though the dance you two shared was much more to make everyone laugh at your moderns moves than anything else.

You knew Fleur, his wife, from back at school, so you two talked for a couple of minutes about the time at Beauxbatons.

And you also danced with George, who was a fun guy with a beautiful smile. He talked about his time away from home — how much about himself he learned, like how different from his twin he was.

“But at the end of the day, I missed him more than anything,” he had said, and you could only imagine how hurt that boy must have been to feel like leaving all his friends and family behind.

You laid your head on his shoulder while he moved around you, and the music slowed down. He realized that you were breathing hard.

“What’s it?’ asked George whispering.

“My sister,” you said simply. That was all you could tell.

Your sister was still beautiful, even after sweating on the dance floor, and now she was tied to Fred, just as you clung to George. They suddenly turned, and you looked at Fred, who smiled sadly in your direction.

“She’ll be happy as his bride,” you said to George, taking your head off his shoulder and looking him in the eye.

George seemed to agree, but he said nothing.

“And she’ll be satisfied.”

He then tilted his head, firming his hand on your waist.

“What about you?”

“Huh?” you frowned, confused.

“Are you satisfied?”

You took one last look at Fred over his twin’s shoulder before facing George again. And what seemed unlikely, happened — you smiled, this time, truly happy.

“I’ll never be satisfied.”

[hawaiian-has-moved]

you aren’t cannon. beetlebabes is more cannon than you. at least that shit was in the musical and movie and cartoon.

Need I remind you idiots, since I have already said I'm no longer being nice to you anymore.

That I do not give a damn what you think it looked like to you in that fucked up brain of yours, it's still p*dophilia. Man it's almost sad I live this rent free in your head for existing. I just exist and your blood boils. It's cute.

Anyway, Lydia is a minor in every version.

And if you think the wedding in the movie was romantic. Man every gross man I've cringed at for being a creepo must have been true love.

But see, that's the thing you people don't get huh? Consent. Consent does not exist to you. If it did you wouldn't fight when people say that Lydia is a minor and therefore cannot consent. It doesn't click because you found something hot about shipping this developing teen with this old as fuck perv.

But oh? Is that not enough for you, you cry, begging to justify your vile ship. Allow me to humor you and go through the other versions.

In fact! I'll analyze a whole song just for you.

Also please look at yet another picture of Lydia obviously not having it.

Way back when I was just ten

Simple and sweet

Everywhere, fellas would stare

Out on the street

And I felt used

Kinda confused

I would refuse to look in their eyes

But now I really love creepy old guys

This is kinda obvious, she's been preyed on before by men. So basic p*do trying to gr**m a kid scenario. But the satire to the song of course is that "it's all fine now" Which it's obviously not, she's just using this to trick him so they can send him back as an end goal.

We all do!

Gum disease

Skin like grilled cheese

Saggy old asses

(Saggy old asses)

Cute and vile

Hey baby, smile

To each girl that passes

They make me blush

(Can't get enough)

Now one of 'em loves me, wants to be mine

(That's right)

Marrying my own creepy old guy!

(I'm a creepy old guy)

This is just more playing out the satire of pretending it's okay, but with Beej chiming in because he already lacks the knowledge that this is grooming and it's not okay. Tricking him into thinking this is fine to end up killing him is a breeze.

My creepy old guy, my creepy old guy

I'm so happy I could cry

Girls may seem disgusted, but we're actually just shy

It's not uncommon that I've heard about or heard someone get told that they're just shy when a gross ass old man or someone is trying to gr**m a kid. It's gaslighting and manipulation in most cases. So for them to say that it's because they're actually just shy as part of the satire is the point.

My creepy old groom (creepy old groom)

Play that wedding tune

Hey folks, step aside

(I am older, but I'm glad I waited)

And if you've watched a bootleg, you would recall Barbara right here smiling and then turning away with eyes wide, like "this is not fucking okay" Kind of look on her face. But yeah this is another one of those phrases that you hear too often in these gross situations.

'Cause here comes the bride

I am marrying my creepy old guy

(Creepy old guy, creepy old guy, creepy old guy)

He's my creepy old guy

(Creepy old guy, creepy old guy, creepy old guy!)

Fix his hair

Get him prepared

For Armageddon

Again if you have seen a bootleg, here Lydia puts a finger to her lips and goes shhhh. Because Armageddon is Beejs death.

Sure, the groom

Crawled out of a tomb

But hey, hey, it's a wedding!

He's really fucking old guys. There is a huge age gap and this is p*dophilia.

So dim the lights

Pick up some rice

Say something nice

It's my day to shine

I'm getting hitched to my creepy old guy

(It's showtime)

Creepy old guy, creepy old guy

She's marrying a creepy old guy

Have you guys seen "Lolita"?

This is just like that, but fine

I have not seen Lolita, but I have been told it's similar to this who marriage scenario and is mega bad. Now if it were Lolita fashion, that is made to ward off men, so I assume it's a movie from what info I have.

Creepy old dude, creepy old dude

Our faith has been renewed

Now love is alive!

Wave your baby girl goodbye

I am walking down the aisle

I wanna see a tear in every eye as I pass by

I know that on the outside he's disgusting

And even on the inside, he's disgusting

This whole scenario is fucking vile. He's vile.

But I know that this time, I'm makin' it right

(Making it right, making it right!)

With my family by my side

O.M.G.

Dressed to a "T"

Fancy and formal

I found me a wife

L'chaim to life

This is so normal!

I was ignored

But now, I'm adored!

'Cause I extorted, tortured, and lied

Give it up for my underage bride!

They've done it, they have successfully tricked him into thinking this is okay with no funny business. But he's about to get stabbed. L'chaim to life is a nod at him being Jewish, also he had a Kippah in the DC version which backed this joke, but it fell off a lot ig so he doesn't have it now. Traditionally there was a lot of marrying women off to much older men for property and stuff, as most religions do/did tho. I was in a production of Fiddler on the roof for example and that was the whole premise.

Here comes the bride

Here comes the bride

God be glorified

I can't believe some cultures think this kind of thing's alright

My creepy old guy

My creepy old guy

Doesn't he deserve a chance at life?

Oh yeah, that's right

Yeah, that's right

So let's make him alive!

I am marrying my creepy old guy!

Guy, guy, guy, creepy old guy

Guy, guy, creepy old guy

Guy, guy

(I have chills)

Yeah!

And then they stab him and the till death do we part sign over the stage all makes sense now because the wedding vows are undone and since he's recently deceased he almost returns to the netherworld.

Etcetera etcetera... But of course you guys go tome deaf at that one when it plays if I remember right.

Oh right, the cartoon, of course, I knew just what you were thinking don't worry. You're thinking "oh well what about the comics, and the valentine cards! And and the animators who drew lewd stuff of Lydia!" Well.... Haha! Still p*dophilia! And also I have seen the infamous Lydia drawing and it's got her head shape, nose, lips, but it's not fully her. Even if it was again my first point, still p*dophilia. And yeah just because the people who worked on it drew it, doesn't make it suddenly okay. Ffs...

I couldn't even find a cartoon wedding that wasn't fan drawn to match this one. Because that doesn't exist! But I do have my favorite point to make.

Beetlejuice's look into Lydia's future in Pest O' the West.

Now why you b*bes were busy being p*dos and gr**ming kids on the internet into thinking this shit is okay, I was mastering the art of common fucking sense.

Beej makes a joking remark that he cannot see into the future while hiding from Bully the Crud, but when he does as per usual, his puns and phrases make his magic go to work. So a crystal ball appears in front of him showing the future in the images I've provided.

Lydia, doing a heaping pile of dishes as a ghost for bully and all of their kids, very unhappy and driven insane. Because imagine what being married to someone it's obviously wrong to be with would do to her mind. He hates seeing her like this, so he rushes to save her. Which he successfully does.

Toon is actually the one with canon evidence of this shit being not okay to him.

Also before anyone tries to say it, no the movie and cartoon aren't connected, she doesn't even live in Winter River in the cartoon that should have made it obvious. Besides she's like 14-16 in the movie. So I don't think she de-aged.

Lastly, two things that are off topic. I believe it's spelled canon, and before anyone goes saying fiction doesn't effect reality, I would like you to explain to me how being a Jedi is a official religion if that is so true.

See anon! I gave you my special, condescending talk that too two hours to type on my phone! You stalked me endlessly and I picked you as the special anon that, I didn't deletes ask for being a gross piece of shit in a minors ask box! Wow. That searching my name clicking on my asks, and typing out all that so I could live rent free in your head really.... Didn't work lol. I may have took two hours to type this, but I assure you I will forget about you in 2 days max. Because unlike you, I have better things to do than ship a minor with an ancient demon. Bye bye now, be sure to rant about me with pure rage to your house p*do friends so that my existence may spread further into other people's minds! Woo... Being famous is so tough. 😉

[sabraeal]

Desert & Reward, Chapter 11

[Read on AO3]

Written for @jj-carstairs​, who was the second to blackout her AnS Fic Rec Bingo board! And with this, I am finished with this particular set of obligations...and moving swiftly onto the next....

For a wedding that is supposed to be small, intimate, and most of all secret, there sure are a lot of chairs crushed into the throne room.

“It’s not really a secret,” Zen tells him, contrary to literally every dire royal imperative Obi’s heard thus far. “Or it is, but only as much as anything can be a secret.”

Considering how many he’s prepared to take to the grave, Obi would beg to differ. But he tugs at his collar instead, slumping down onto the dais with palpable misery.

“Don’t fuss,” Sir chides cheerfully. “You look just fine.”

“I look like a present wrapped to within an inch of its life.” And with no one to open it. Obi grimaces, avoiding a glance at M-- Zen’s shoes. This definitely wasn’t the audience to air that particular grievance.

Sir’s mouth only bends into a smile. “There are worse things for a groom to be on his wedding day.”

“You’re right!” Obi's grin settles into something more tooth than toothsome. “I could be stabbed instead.”

That winsome smiles flips right around. “I haven’t stabbed a groom.”

“Obi!” Zen scolds, far too innocent. He hazards a glance at him, not missing the too-wide eyes, the twitching lips. “Mitsuhide wouldn’t be so rude to stab a man at his wedding.”

The big guy nods, solemn. “Yes, thank you--”

“Only one of his guests.”

“Zen!”

Zen sidesteps Sir’s advance, slipping right up the dais to put Obi smack dab between the both of them. Clever plan; Sir would never risk hitting a non-combatant.

Too bad for him; Obi’s never missed a chance to throw himself into the fray. “Be fair, M-- Zen.” The name sticks in his mouth, stumbling out only when he ushers it through his teeth. Terrible, how that almost ruins the joke. “He’s never attempted violence at a wedding. Only an engagement party.”

“You’re right.” Zen’s warmed to the topic now, voice litling into sing-song. “And at my brother’s engagement instead of--”

“All right, I think you’ve both had your fun,” the big guy informs them, shoulders hunched. “There’s no reason we have to keep talking about it.”

“Aw, come on now, sir,” Obi wheedles, knitting his fingers beneath his chin. “You can’t blame a man for wondering how much blood he’ll get to keep on his w-w--” no matter how hard he tries, the word wont’ come, a stubborn mule hauled up at the end of his tongue-- “at the altar.”

Sir’s eyes dart down to him, serious brow all furrowed, mouth pulled into the sort of frown that says things instead of quietly ponders, but Zen--

Well, he can always rely on his master to miss a misstep. “Well, at least Mitsuhide saved Hisame from having to lose it on his wedding night instead.”

That gets the big man’s attention, his chest already expanding with protest, and Obi takes the distraction with both hands, jumping up to ask, “Well, sir, if you’d save me the trouble too, I guess I’d thank you for it.”

“Obi,” he admonishes, “Shirayuki would never stab you.”

“Even if you deserved it,” Master adds, so helpful. “Besides, you might not be her first choice--” he doesn’t have to say who would fill that particular slot-- “but you’re a more preferable husband than Raj.”

“What a ringing endorsement.” The doors dwarf Kiki, even though she only stands beneath the open one, one brow raised to dubious heights. Even in her finery-- which Obi can admit is very fine-- her hip’s cocked like she’s on the other side of the training grounds and not the end of an aisle.

“Aw, come on now, Miss Kiki.” He jumps to his feet, grin already teasing up a corner of his lips. “What girl could resist a man who didn’t kidnap her?”

She saunters down the runner, blue and gold a river beneath her slippers, and smirks. “I suppose the ones who would rather a man that didn’t try to kill her.”

“Kill!” He slaps a hand to his chest. “Such a strong word. I prefer discourage.”

Mainly since that’s what the agreement was: strongly discourage-- what they called intimidation, in the business-- the young redheaded guest from overstaying her welcome. Undue violence or spectacle would cut the amount of coin in half, and oh, it’d been a long time since Obi had seen that much dil in one place back then. Lucky thing for Miss that the marquis abhorred a scandal, and Obi had been thinking about a nice steak dinner.

Lucky for him too, it turns out.

“Should I ask what you’re doing?” Kiki calls out, but it’s not to him-- it’s over his shoulder, both brows raised now.

“I, uh...” Obi cranes his neck, watching as Mitsuhide attempts to have this conversation with the wall. “I didn’t know-- you aren’t-- shouldn’t you be with Shirayuki?”

“I was.” Kiki mounts the steps to the dais, teeth peeking through the seam of her lips. “Is there a problem.”

Her tone says, quite clearly, there shouldn’t be.

“Well, um.” Big guy licks his lips, daring a quick glance back, before dedicating himself to the wainscoting again. “You’re not supposed to see, the um, ahhh...”

He flails a hand behind him blindly. A good thing; Sir would never survive seeing their faces.

Zen stares, incredulous. “You’re not the one getting married.”

“And for that case, neither am I.” Kiki clasps a hand around her husband’s shoulder. “Unless there’s something I should know?”

Sir’s red-faced when he peers down, but a shy smile rounding his lips. “You look beautiful.”

“Ah.” Obi never thought he’d live to see the day Kiki Seiran thawed enough to smile with all her teeth, but here he is, minutes away from his own wedding, hosted at the behest of the King of Clarines, and she does. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

There’s a spark in the depth of Big Guy’s dark eyes when he turns to her, mouth poised to riposte--

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Zen asks, harried. “Or are you trying to be a distraction?”

Kiki spins to face him, far too mild as she says, “I didn’t realize there was anything to distract from.”

“Of course there is.” At her expectant look, he provides, “We were having some, ah, bonding time. Just us men. Giving advice. Before, you know, he’s no longer a bachelor.”

“Please,” Obi begs, “distract away.”

“Well then.” Kiki turns to him now, face placid but eyes alight, and informs him, “You are needed in the vestibule.”

He blinks. “What? Why?”

Her mouth curves. “Oh, I’m sure you can come up with a few reasons.”

He can’t. Or, really, there’s too many, all jittering together at too many angles for one to rise to the top, leaving his mind as empty as the moment a bass bell stops ringing-- not the absence of sound, but its echo.

It’s not until he sees that scholarly slouch, that hair so tousled it circles back around to something approaching orderly, that he realizes-- Lata is here. Lata is here, and oh, they have a lot to talk about.

“Stop.”

His heels skid to a halt on instinct; one he’s grateful for when Her Majesty, belly bulging, bustles around Lata’s lanky frame, pretty brow just the slightest bit furrowed. She points one slender finger to a corner hedged in by a screen. “Stand right there.”

Obi knows better than to ask questions, but he does anyway. “Wh--?”

“Do as you’re told,” she says, fists perching at where her hips would be, if the heir of Clarines wasn’t currently occupying them. Despite her fancy get up, it comes out less like a queen and more like a bossy older sister, not above twisting arms if it’ll get her way.

It moves him. One foot, then the other, boot heels clacking together at attention. She nods, quick, approving. “Good. Now don’t move.”

A thrill goes down his spine, and he...really doesn’t want to think about what that says about him. Something he already knew, probably.

“All right.” Her Majesty steps back, a thoughtful frown marring her mouth. “Now ask your questions.”

Finally. “Wh--?”

“Obi?”

His head swivels toward the screen, heart leaping into his throat. “Miss?”

One foot sneaks out, trying to pivot him but--

Her Majesty clucks her tongue. “Now, now, sir. There will be no peeking.”

He freezes, wide-eyed. “Peeking?”

The queen favors him with a smile that is both gentle and mischievous, and honestly, he doesn’t know why anyone’s still afraid of His Majesty when Her Majesty is right there, looking like that. “A groom cannot see his bride on their wedding day.”

He almost protests-- it’s only Miss, after all; with her sense of propriety, he’s seen her any which way but naked. But--

But in an hour, she’ll be his Missus. No, his lady. Because he’s the groom. She’s the bride.

He must do an awful job on tamping down his rising horror, since Her Majesty adds, so helpful, “Especially when she’s in her wedding gown.”

His neck snaps to the screen-- the screen made out of paper so thin, so delicate, that a good lamp might cast a real show. He’d known a few girls who made a living off that, a nice shadow and some lighting, but-- that’s not the point here. Not when Miss is sitting on the other side of this thing, wrapped up in the fancy dress she’s going to walk down the aisle in.

Bad luck she’ll be walking towards him in it.

He squints at the vague, Miss-like shape the ambient light gives-- definitely not the crisp image he’s seen with red ones-- and frowns. “I guess I won’t be the first one to say you look nice today, huh?”

“Oh.” There’s a laugh bubbling beneath the sound, like a pebble in a brook. “No, I’m afraid I’ve been told at least five times already.”

He tilts his head back, crown scrubbing against the wall. “Ah, so this is what it’s like, being the one you’re dressing up for.”

Her breath catches. It’s a soft sound; one he’s not even certain he hears until Her Majesty turns her attention toward the other side of the screen. One brow arches with a level of amusement he’s glad she’s not gleaning from him. “I was under the impression you had a question, Shirayuki?”

“Ah, right!” He can see her hands waving, fingers spread, right by where her chin should be. “Obi, why is Lata here?”

Miss never speaks but to say things softly, sweetly, but even she has to exert an herculean effort not to draw a point with the word Lata.

The man himself frowns, the contemplative lines bracketing his mouth rounding into a pair of cross parentheses. “We just went over this.”

“Ah, I know.” Miss wearily holds onto her buoyant tone like flotsam in a wreck. “I just...don’t quite understand.”

“I don’t see what so difficult about it.” His arms fold across his chest, the velvet of his coat rumpling into mossy hillocks. Kiki was right-- the green does go well with the gold. If only Yori’d let him wear it. “Your father cannot, without causing a diplomatic incident by breathing in a foreign court, be in evidence. Therefore, I must stand in his stead.”

“Yes, that part I understand,” she says in her infinitely patient way, that kind that makes Her Majesty’s lips quiver. “I just don’t understand why.”

Lata’s face crumples with frustration. “It’s traditional.”

Miss hesitates. He can’t hear her mouth working-- those sounds are too soft to travel so far-- but he knows it is, just as her hands are behind the screen. “But, Lata, you hate tradition.”

“I do,” he allows-- because it’s true-- but adds, “but this is a familial duty.”

Obi’s heart stutters right in his chest. This really isn’t the time to be getting into all this. To try to explain-- “Sir--”

“Familial duty?” Miss manages, a whole octave higher than usual. “How--?”

“Yes,” Lata interrupts, clearly tired of rehashing a conversation he’s already solved in his head. “And one cannot shirk a duty to their family, no matter how ridiculous it is.”

Her outline shivers on the screen, parts of her fading and coming into focus in turns, like she’s moved her whole body. The shape of her head is strange, ovalish toward the top instead of round-- she’s tilting it. There’s a question trying to make its way out of her, and he knows every word of it, he just has to hope--

“Besides,” Lata coughs, straightening the hem of his waistcoat. “My mother would be quite cross.”

All right, well, now Obi had questions. But those can keep, if Miss’s stunned silence is any indication.

“You know, Miss,” he hums, voice pitched low to carry to her ears only. “Suzu’s here too, if you’d like another option.”

“Suzu’s here?” she echoes, the confusion stark in her voice. “But how did he...?”

Obi’s mouth curls into a grin. “He came in with Lata last night.”

“This morning.” Lata clears his throat, really giving that coat a good tug. “And he didn’t come with me, he attached himself to me, and I chose not to leave him in a drift outside of Oriold.”

“But...why?” Miss hesitates as she speaks, like she’s half put together a puzzle only to realize pieces are missing. “I thought no one was supposed to know about the wedding.”

Obi grins. “Outside of His Majesty’s three hundred most bosom companions, of course.”

He doesn’t need to see Miss to feel her glare, not when it’s reflected so fully in the flat look Her Majesty gives him. “What sort of message would it send if word spreads that the crown had Margravine Entaepode married to the Marquis Conti with any less in attendance?”

He holds back a huff of a laugh. Of course Her Majesty would see it like that-- the date was just details compared to the shame of having anything less than the whole of Clarines’ court to witness their nuptials.

“To answer your question,” Lata continues, fluster and frustration eddying around his eyes, “I think my family name does afford me some considerations in this matter.”

Obi’s grateful he doesn’t expound on what, exactly, those may be. “The rest of them heard about it and drew lots to see who came as his plus one.”

“There is no such thing,” Her Majesty says, firm as steel, in the same moment Lata complains, “Well, I never said they could.”

There’s a pause before Miss says, voice thin, “So everyone in Lillias, they all...?”

“Know about your happy occasion?” Lata offers ruefully. “I would say so.”

“Suzu’s here as his valet.” He has to bite down on the impulse to tell her about Yori’s horror as he watched Suzu give the footmen instructions like I don’t know, over there, somewhere, and nah, just leave those in the trunk, the folds will come out on their own, right?

It’s not the time for stories. Especially ones where she won’t even know who he’s talking about.

“Oh. Oh my.” Miss sounds faint behind the paper. “Yuzuri is going to be so upset.”

“Oh, no.” Lata shifts, impatient. “She’s upset right as we speak.”

Miss whimpers.

“Don’t worry, Miss,” he murmurs, leaning close enough to brush the paper. “You won’t be the only one she puts a stripe on.”

“Obi...” For a moment, he thinks she’s scolding him, but her shadow moves, and the paper bows out, her hand pressed against it.

He hesitates, the paper whispering over his palm before he lays it on hers. Her warmth is muted but familiar, easing the careening pace of his pulse. “We’ll make it all right after we get through this.

And you’re safe, he doesn’t add. Doesn’t need to, with the way her fingers tense against his. “Lata just has to get you down there--”

She balks, softly, a noise made only for him. He grins. “What’s the matter? Isn’t he the father of our little Lyrias family?”

“I think that would be Shidan,” she murmurs. “He’s more like...a distant uncle.”

Obi grins. “Who pays for lunch?”

Miss doesn’t reply, but he can feel her look through the screen. “I am perfectly capable of walking myself down a runner.”

Her Majesty hums a note of disagreement. “Perhaps. But it would be an unorthodox choice, and one that would carry...implications.”

Miss makes a frustrated noise. “Implications?”

“That I didn’t approve,” Lata explains, creating far more inconvenient questions than concrete answers.

“How--?”

“Well, I suppose we could always ask Master,” Obi offers, too cheerful. “Or maybe Elder Highness--?”

“Ah!” Shirayuki yelps, snatching her hand from the screen. “No. That’s-- it’s fine. Lata is a...fine choice.”

Obi returns to the throne room with a sense of relief; with only minutes left until the ceremony starts, there’s no time for any more unexpected developments. Not unless Prince Raj himself arrives mid-vows to stop the wedding.

At least, so he thinks, until he realizes: the throne is not empty.

Master is beside it, put-upon as he always is, and right on the velvet tuft reserved for the royal ass is--

Well, the royal ass itself.

“Marquis,” His Majesty hums, “you’re here, finally. Congratulations.”

“What are you doing?” he asks, eyes wide. “Why...?”

“To marry you, of course.” He smiles, mouth wide. “It is the pleasure of a liege to do so for his vassals.”

“But Zen is my...” His words trail off when he looks in Zen’s eyes, when he remembers at just whose behest that title of immediate knight had come from. Immediate knight, a man who served the family royal, and above all...

...The king. Even without his lordly title, Obi was Izana Wisteria’s dog, lowly mutt among the hounds he may be. And with it...

He grit down his teeth. “Fuck.”

The king’s mouth flashes teeth. “Well, now that we’re all up to speed,” he says, drawing up to his full height. “I think it’s time we begin.”

He has scarcely finished talking, when the horns blare from the balconies. It hits him all at once; this is it. He’s going to be married.

If only either of them actually wanted it.