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the-fiction-witch · 1 year ago

Text

Breathless

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty Af

Warning: Medical emergency / Asthma Attack

I woke, as I typically did with a sharp fast gasp. immediately I heard the wheeze in my chest like a pair of old moth-eaten bellows. I sighed and turned to my bedstand opening the little rosewood box and hearing the gentle tune of the music box inside plaid as soon as I opened it I grabbed one of the prerolled cigarettes shutting the box again and saw the candle on my bedside table still burning so I set the tip in the flame until it began to smoulder so I laid down on my back slowly but surely taking a deep inhale and blowing the resulting smoke across my ceiling. It fixed it as much as it ever did so I finished up and set the end in my little metal box with many others.

"There's my sweet girl!" My father gleamed as he entered my bedroom with a wide smile

"Good Morning Father," I smiled sitting up in my bed

"It is a fantastic morning, A perfect morning for our party!" He cheered going to open my curtains to let in the sunshine

I smiled as much as I could force, I knew this was important to him and I wanted only to be supportive.

"I have a gift for you" He smiled tapping my nose playfully He clicked his fingers towards the door and the maid scurried in with a large box in hand, he took the box from her and set it on the bed opening the box up pulling out from the tissue and ribbon a sweet expensive new dress.

It was beautiful, A long off-the-shoulder dress of a sweet fabric a light pale pink with vertical strips of purple, and white lace at its hem, neckline and lace elbow-length sleeves with a black ribbon at its waist. It was utterly beautiful and would not have been cheap for my father to buy. but I began to panic as I looked at it seeing the ribbon and how small it was.

I knew my father, he meant well but he always did this and always it made me fearful.

But I forced a smile "Thank you Father" I said giving his cheek a kiss

"You're welcome, Now come along guests begin to arrive soon" He said rushing off to make preparations.

I sighed climbing from my bed, I went and had a nice hot bath laying in the warm water for longer than I should just because it seemed to soothe my chest but I soon climbed out and went to my window in my towel looking out to the gardens.

My father was a very wealthy businessman in port with a lot of dealings coming and going in shipping, of course, our house was lustrous and grand second only to the governors only a few miles up the road, but the governor could not hold a candle to my father's gardens, well known in the area and beyond for the grandiose and beauty of the many exotic flowers and plants from all over the world, He took great pride in the garden and this combined with his utter love fort entertaining. Meant we had an awful lot of garden parties.

Today was no exception my father was hosting a garden party and had invited everyone who could be imagined. He adored parties being an utter social butterfly, I however was more of an.... antisocial bookworm not much wanting to go but knowing word would spread if I didn't attend my father's own parties. It didn't much help my looming age knowing at the back of my mind certain men had been invited not due to my father really wanting them at the party but my father realizing they could be a good match for me so invited them in the hope one would catch my interest. But I know I am a very lucky girl, Many fathers would be insisting by now or would have wedded their daughter off for a business deal. But My father was a decent man and had always promised me I could choose my husband, that I could marry for love no matter who it would be. He felt he couldn't deny me what he and my mother had.

I went to my mirror and began to dress, I pulled my white stockings up to my thighs adjusting them so the little lilac bows would sit forward, I pulled my long cotton underdress over my body tugging it down as far as it would go, by then my maid arrived and I gulped as she picked up my cream corset. I simply watched the mirror doing my best to not panic as she wrapped it around me and began to lace the back, I did my best to keep my breaths slow and steady but that wasn't exactly easy until finally she finished with the back, she pinned the ribbons in place and turned me to face her so she could pull the ribbons to the front to lace it again leaving me squeezed as much as possible

"How much more?" I gasped already feeling breathless

"Not much more Miss." she said "Pencil thin is the London style miss" She reassured

"I am not a pencil. I am a lady." I argued half of me was joking the other half was serious.

Finally, she tied the last bow and removed the pin in the back as there was now no give in the ribbon at all, she took my crinoline the large wicker bird cage-looking thing that always made me smile a little tieing it simply around my waist and she helped me to slip on my dress, it was beautiful and I did feel very pretty even if again the lacing began as she all but sewed me into the dress ensuring it would be as close to me as possible. Not being helped by my father's purchase choices.

"Alright miss?" she asked as she finished the last bow

"Yes. Thank you" I lied, finally she helped me into my shoes and left to attend the party. "Women in London must have learnt not to need to breathe" I sighed I sat at my vanity and did what little make-up I bothered with before finally taking my hair from the tight braid I had done last night allowing it to now be in sweet curls. Once done I looked out to the window again seeing people had already gathered for the party so I grabbed my lace fan and my parasol and headed down to the gardens.

"Ahhh My goodness an angel!" My father joked as he saw me "You look beautiful" He smiled

"Thank you Father" I smiled

"Go on then, Mingle I'll check in on you later," He told me ushering me deeper into the party, I did my rounds parasol in hand often batting my fan to try and get some air down my throat doing my best to greet and be pleasant with people.

As I made the rounds I took note of those who were here already spotting a few men my father would have invited purely in the hopes of grabbing my attention but as I walked to a less populated area of the garden I took a seat for a moment on the stone bench I spotted a similar soul.

He stood by one of the statues away from the main business of the party, dressed in his usual way but cleaned up a little better, he seemed awkward unsure why he was here, out of place in this bussle. I felt for him of course and for a moment even I wasn't sure why he was here. But then I recalled seeing Dr Sneed on my walk around the party and I know how my father thinks, my father would have invited Dr Sneed because he is his doctor and thus not inviting his own doctor to his party would be rude, and of course then in my fathers mind he must also invite Dr Dawkins for if he invited Sneed and Not Dawkins that too would have been rude. Honestly, I'm surprised he took up the invitation. For a moment we caught eyes and he offered me a small smile so I did my best to do so back.

“You alright my sweet?’ my father asked as he approached sitting beside me

“Yes, just wanted a moment from all the excitement” I smiled

‘ahh well come along we are to begin the walk” he smiled to me taking my hand and soon enough the walk began, this was typical of every party my father would lead a walk around the gardens explaining almost every flower and plant giving a tour to the guests of course most ate it up but I slowly but surely slinked away until I was at the very back of the walk where I again found Dr Dawkins.

“Good day doctor”

“Good day miss y/l/n, does your father always do this?’

“Yes” I chuckled moving my parasol slightly higher as to protect him too

“AHH thank you” he smiled moving a little closer to be under the protection of the lace from the blistering sun

“Quite alright” I answered “what brings you to the party?”

“Your father invited me. Wasn't going to bother but something to do I suppose’ he chuckled

“I guess. I rather find it all tedious”

“well we agree on some things’ he chuckled “I have to admit though your dress is utterly stunning”

“Thank you doctor’ I blushed a little but had to fan myself quickly as I felt slightly breathless from the walking

“Ohh don't worry pleatenties of the party you can just call me jack” he smiled

“ohh that's very sweet, thank you jack’ I smiled “then y/n I insist”

“Why thank you, My god is he going to take us past every plant?” He whispered

“That he is” I smiled

“Any particular reason?’

‘its his pride. He adores his garden above all else?”

“Even you?’

“I don't know, I should hope not but I wouldn't be surprised’

“Why? Why would be focus so much on his garden and not his daughter?”

“He promised my other that her beloved garden would always bloom, she died only a few days later” I explained

“Ohh forgive me y/n I-”

“It's alright, he can be… overboard at times” I said doing my best to slow and catch my breath

“Are you alright?’ he asked

“Yes forgive me-”

“No no it's alright, are you sure? You seem lost for breath?’ he said carefully taking my arm

“I'm fine” I answered as I gasped trying hard not to wheeze or cry anything that might draw attention to myself he seemed panicked I tried again and gasp but it just wasn't working and I almost went over

“Whoa. I'm taking you inside’ he said quickly putting an arm around me and taking me quickly back to the house I dropped my parasol and fan as soon as I got in the door trying desperately to get my breath in “which way to your room?”

“This way” I gasped now beginning to cough and wheeze loudly taking his hand and leading him to my room as soon as I was inside I leant on my ottoman trying desperately to get some air into my lungs as he shut the door and came over

“Are you short of breath?”

“Yes” I gasped surely that was obvious

“try to breathe slow for me if you can” he asked and I did my best but that only made me wheeze louder

“Take off your dress.” He said

“I beg your pardon Dr Dawkins!’ I argued

“I need to examine you take off your dress” he said

“I cannot” I answered between gasps

“I'm a doctor I won't look y/n but I need to exmaine you” he said

“No I cannot. My maid she-”

“She's sewn you into the dress?” he asked and I nodded “alright” he said slipping off his jacket and grabbing a small knife from his pocket “I'll be as careful as I can” he said slowly using the blade to cut where my dress had been stitched by my maid until finally it released I quickly stepped away and pushed the dress off me as well as my crinoline immediately I felt a little better as I looked forward letting out slow breaths I caught sight of jack in my mirror he lied to me. He was looking. But I felt still so breathless that I tumbled onto my ottoman ‘whoa whoa! I got you. I got you.” He reassured only just catching me making me sit on the ottoman “I need to remove your corset”

“Doctor!”

“I have to remove it” he said coming to face me starting to unlace my corset ties quickly with his nimble fingers “out of curiosity. How'd your mother die?”

“Respiratory failure” I gasped and he looked up to me seeming panicked

“How old was she?”

“Twenty nine”

“Christ - for - god-” he grunted trying to deal with the knots and loops and ties in my corset until finally he unlaced the front and tried to pull it off but of course it didn't move he looked confused so I moved his hand to my back and he moved behind me seeing of course all the lacing on the back ‘oh you gotta be kidding me!’ he complained “they really didn't want you of this dress.’ he said fighting with the ties before “fuck it!’ he complained grabbing his knife again and cutting though the lacing managing to force the whole corset off me and that helped considerably “there we go.” He said a lift proud of himself “nice and slow let me listen” he said for a moment looking around the room clearly for something to use to listen but “I don't have my tools uhhh okay. Guess we have to do this the old fashioned way” he said sitting on the ottoman with me lifting my underdress up to expose my bare back I glanced in the mirror again and saw his cheeks slightly deeper with red his eyes glancing down from my neck all the way to the ottoman before he moved closer resting his head on my back to press his ear to my skin “nice and slow for me. Just breathe with me In. And out. In and back out” he said and I did my best to breath with him even if I ended up coughing and wheezing as he walked me through a few long breaths “how long have you been like this?” He asked as he pulled back moving so I could see his face letting go of my underdress

“Forever”

“I get the feeling you need to tell me something.” He said

“I'm asthmatic. Have been as long as I can remember.” I answered

“That certainly explains a lot” he said “when did a doctor tell you?”

“I was nine.”

“I take it your mother was too?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, how are you managing it? What do you have to take when you get like this?” He asked

“The box on my bedside table” I told him still struggling he got up and went to the box seeming confused

“What are these?”

“Asthma cigarettes. Prof prescribed them” I answered

“You smoke!’ he argued

“On doctors instructions yes.” I answered

“Are you mad!”

“There not tobacco there thorn apple leaves there meant to help” I said

He sighed begrudgingly bringing one over so I took it and lit it on a candle sitting for a few moments slowly inhaling it all

He brushed the smoke away from his face a moment before rather angrily speaking “he's mad.”

“It helps.”

“So would you sitting not moving for the ten minutes it took you to smoke that” he argued “but that dress wasn't helping in the slightest why on earth did they lace you in that corset so much?”

“It's the style apparently. Plus I needed to”

“Why?”

“...father buys all my dresses two sizes smaller then I am. I have to double lace the corset for a hope of even getting in them

“Why would he do that?”

“He means well. He thinks if he buys all my clothes too small it's… encouraging”

“Encouraging? I hate to ask but when did you last eat anything?”

“...four days ago.”

“Okay, that is also not going to be helping.” He said

“Yeah well you try fitting into a dress with a twenty one inch waist” I pouted

“I think he's trying to kill you.” He joked “you feel a bit better now?”

“Yes. Thank you jack”

“You're welcome. How often do you get attacks like that?”

“once a week or so.”

“Does your father know?”

“Somewhat. I don't always tell him the whole truth”

“Would you be against coming to the hospital?”

“What?”

“I am not confident about leaving you alone tonight. If you agree I'll talk to your father take you to the hospital I'll keep you under observation myself.”

“Why?”

“.... I fear this may be worse then just a simple attack y/n”

“I don't want to worry my father. he's fearful enough as it is”

“Then which would you rather? He be a little worried a stressed as you spend the night in hospital in my care or he comes in here and finds you dead in your bed tomorrow morning because I'm pretty sure which one will upset him more.”

“One night?”

“One night. Under observation.”

“Alright jack”

“Thank you y/n” he smiled giving my hand a kiss “just rest i'll go see your father” he said as he got up and headed out of my room.

Eventually he arrived with my father in tow and the two discussed as my maid packed me some items and my father called us a carriage, I changed into my loosest dress doing my best not to show my father my struggles

“Perhaps Dr sneed would be better he is my doctor he's taken such food care of me” he began

“Dr sneed is very busy he won't have time and what she needs is observations now I have the time to do so”

“Keep me posted won't you?”

“I promise.”

“You'll take care of her doctor?”

“Absolutely, I promise she'll be back right as rain”

“Alright, I'll see you soon sweetheart” he smiled kissing my head before he slowly and tenderly let my hand go giving it to jack, he smiled to me squeezing my hand and leading me slowly to the carriage luckily the party never even noticed but as i sat down my father pulled jack close to him. “Anything happens to her. It's your head.”

“Yes sir” he nodded before climbing into the carriage with me.

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #jackdawkins #jack dawkins #jack #thearttfuldodger #the artful dodger #theartfuldogger

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luveline · 1 year ago

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Hi, I’ve never sent a request before so forgive me if this sounds weird I’m still learning how to use Tumblr lol but what if Eddie and reader go to Roan’s school for parent-teacher conference and her teacher shows them something Roan wrote or made expressing how much she loves her new mom and her new little family🩷 and reader cries from how happy and loved Roan and Eddie make her feel🥹

ty for ur request, it doesn't sound weird at all! eddie and roan —you and eddie attend roan's PT conference, stepmother!reader, 1.2k

You hide from the biting winter wind in Eddie's side. “Is it supposed to be this cold?” you ask.

“You sound surprised. It's December,” he says, though he puts his arm over your shoulders to cover as much of you as he can. “I told you to wear a coat.”

“The coat ruins my outfit,” you say.

“You being cold ruins the outfit.” He nods towards the step up into the school building. “You could say the outfit ruins what's underneath–”

“What's wrong with you?”

“An appreciation for my wife?”

“Stop saying that, you're confusing people. Steve asked me last night if we got married in private–”

“You're always talking to Steve,” Eddie complains, “he doesn't even call me anymore, he just wants to talk to you.”

He'd called to ask if he was still babysitting, actually, but Eddie wouldn't know that because he and Roan had been playing monsters at the time, speaking to each other in gruff tones while they made sandwiches for dinner.

“You have a problem.”

Eddie can't decide whether to bicker or dote, squeezing you tightly, a promise about new problems lost to the growing ruckus of the elementary school after hours. Some parents have brought their children, but the majority stand chatting in lines to see the teachers. You and Eddie have come through the main entrance of the building rather than the side door where Roan enters, and the walk to Mrs. Lundy's room is longer than usual, though far from unpleasant. Light shines through the windows where a rainbow of creatures have been painted, leaving glowing shapes of apricot, cerulean, and lilac on your skin as you pass.

“You're like a Christmas tree,” Eddie says.

“I just need some tinsel.” You point at the decorations hanging from Mrs. Lundy's doorway. “Like that.”

“You want some tinsel? I'll get you some tinsel, baby, just give me a minute. And maybe distract her.”

You refuse to help him steal from Mrs. Lundy, and spend your time in line waiting with his hands held firmly in yours to prohibit any theft. Eddie moans about being jailed but is otherwise content. He quite likes it, actually, rearranging your fingers to stroke your knuckles.

Mrs. Lundy is smiling, happy to see you and brag about your girl. She starts with Roan's general education, her behaviour, her grades, though this young she doesn't have grades so much as milestones. Roan is smart but no wizz kid (not that you care), she's kind (but not always good at sharing), she's loud, and rambunctious, a great artist, and she's very, very happy.

“She talks about your wedding all the time. Every day. She tells us she's going to be the flower girl, and the best man, and that she has a beautiful dress.” Mrs. Lundy beams. “She's walking on sunshine.” The teacher's smile turns soft, almost wistful. “Well, she's Roan. You know what she's like better than I do.”

Your cheeks ache with pride.

“She's a good kid,” Eddie says.

“Yes!” Mrs. Lundy reaches across the desk for a turquoise-coloured folder. “There was actually something I wanted to share with you both… You know we have creative writing assignments, and obviously we help them with making real sentences, but what she has to say is very much of her own volition.”

Mrs. Lundy pulls a sheet of paper from the folder and puts it down in front of your hands. “The prompt was what makes you happy,” she says.

The first sentence is simple.

My mommy.

A drawing of you decorates the page above the lines, so clearly you, your smile wide and pink.

My mommy is kind and I love her. Dad sayd the wedding is speshul becase he loves her, but she will be my mom. She makes me so happy. Mommy says she loves me all of the time, and she brushus my hair. My best part of the day is when Y/N comes home and hugs me. We are so happy, and Lucky gets dinner. I love my dad too, and Uncle Wayn.

Her spelling errors have been corrected in green pen, and her backwards letters are written forwards for her to copy. You read the entire paragraph in a blur, thinking about how long it must've taken her to get it all down, nearly an entire page in her bubbly handwriting, big letters running off of the page.

“Needless to say,” Mrs. Lundy says, “that most children write about their families, or their pets, or their toys. But Roan was extremely focused on the word love. She's clearly going home to a loving home every night.” Mrs. Lundy smiles at Eddie. You nearly miss it, reading the paragraph again, and then a third time.

“Can I take this?” you ask, clearing your throat, tears brewed and bobbing on your waterline, desperate to be shed. “Is that okay?”

Eddie laughs and elbows you in the arm. “Come on, it's hardly news.”

You wipe your eyes before you can cry in front of them both. “I'm sorry, just– can I?”

Mrs. Lundy beams again, emphasising the well-worn smile lines at the corners of her lips and creasing beside her eyes.

You hold it together well for a little while. Eddie talks over your wobbly silence, a hand on your shoulder, assuring Mrs. Lundy that you're all, in fact, very happy, and he's just glad that Roan is being a good student and friend to her classmates. Mrs. Lundy's kindness and Roan's love letter to you has knocked you entirely off kilter, and you're crying before you've reached the car. They're happy tears.

“Come on,” Eddie says, taking the paper you've folded carefully from your fingers as they clench. “She's said nicer to you in person.”

And sure she has. Roan loves hitting you with the saccharine when you're not expecting it. Drying her hair after bath time, totally distracted, she'll kiss your cheek and say, “You're so pretty.” She sprinkles I love you's wherever they'll fit like her dad does, and she shows it with little gifts and cuddles and invitations. Y/N, do you want to have a fashion show with me? Y/N, can we have ice cream in bed? Can I do your hair, please, mommy?

“It's different. It's different,” you insist, scrambling to find the words. “She's…” You rub your eyes. Your makeup is smudging, but you can't help it. “I don't even know what to say.”

Eddie shrugs. Lean shoulders, a loving arm behind your back, the car in sight but getting no closer, he comforts you in the middle of the parking lot while the passing headlights kiss your shoes. “You know how much she loves you, babe. This is a good thing, right? You're not upset?”

“Not upset,” you clarify.

“Okay, good. Is this a bad time for me to say that I am profoundly jealous right now? I used to get all the drawings and cards, I used to get Mother's day gifts. I have a mother's day card up in the attic… might have to get it out,” —he kisses your cheek— “just to cope.”

You laugh through a sniffle. “Let's go get it,” you say.

He presses Roan's assignment back into your hand. “You can keep that one, but don't get it out around me. I'm serious.”

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pisspope · 4 days ago

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giggling like a high schooler with a crush imagining counting Emmrich's jewelry while holding his hand. turning his palm face up and tracing your fingers over his skin delicately, both of you still in that pining stage, looking over his cool skin and turning each ring over one by one.

"where's this one from?" as you thumb a pattern or a stone, trying to ignore the way his breath hitches slightly before he answers. it's because I'm being so soft that he shivers, you think. it's ticklish. he could never be interested in me.

meanwhile emmrich is planning three dates in advance and putting together your wedding bouquet in his mind because no one has ever been this gentle with him. swallowing hard as you ask him about a ring from his mother, one of the only pieces of real gold his family owned, and how perfect it would look refitted onto your left hand. he can't remember the last time he was this far gone for someone, and he doesn't want to. there is the world before you, and the world now, springing to life in brilliant color.

he thinks of the flower language he learned as a student, so he could perfectly arrange meaningful bouquets for services. For you, gardenias, pink camellias, and baby's breath to round it out; secret adoration and affection, innocent and everlasting. And maybe lilac.

Because you, too, are quickly becoming his favorite.

#cat thots #emmrich volkarin #sorry brain is eating itself #emmrich x rook

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peppermintquartz · 23 days ago

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I could use something so so fluffy. How about bucktommy wedding day?

Jee-yun loves her dress. It's lilac and floaty and sparkly and she has pink rosebuds in her hair, like her mom does. Mom is wearing a pretty blue dress with sparkly crystals on it. And Papa is dressed up really nicely too, in a black suit with a blue tie and blue handkerchief in his jacket pocket, like Uncles Eddie and Sal.

She loves the garden too. There are dozens of chairs draped in white cloth and tied in the back with lilac and pink ribbons. Christopher is already sitting in the front row, wearing a really nice white shirt and blue pants with blue suspenders, and he's talking to Carla and Aunthena (Aunt Athena, her mom reminded her this morning). Then Aunt Hen and Karen arrive, both in different shades of purple - Aunt Hen in a purple that's like a jewel, and Aunt Karen's dress is soft purple - while Mara is wearing light blue and Denny is wearing a dark pink. Jee-yun shrieks and goes over to hug them.

Before long, everyone has arrived. Jee-yun runs from group to group, giving hugs and getting compliments on her dress and her hair, until Uncle Eddie and her Papa calls for everyone to take their seats.

Uncle Bobby is standing there at the front under the white arch decorated with pink roses and lilac ribbons. He looks very handsome in a black shirt and jacket, with a silver tie. In the front row, Grandpa and Grandma are on the right side, and Christopher is sitting beside them with Carla, and Apa and Eomma are on the left.

Her papa and May are the first to walk down the aisle, then Uncle Sal with Lucy, then Uncle Eddie with her mom, the couples separating to stand on either side, and then it's Jee-yun's turn, a basket of rose petals in her left hand.

She puffs with pride as she waits for the music to start. Then, like they practiced, she walks down the aisle, tossing flowers out handful by handful, smiling as big as she can as she goes.

And then she's led to Eomma who gives her a pink ring pop. She hears the music change and turns to peer down the aisle.

Uncle Buck is there in his baby blue suit on his jacket, looking very handsome and happy, and Uncle Tommy approaches him in a dark blue suit, also very handsome and happy. Both of them have pale pink rosebuds pinned to their jackets. They hold hands - someone whistles at them - and they walk down the aisle together.

"Now kiss!" Jee-yun shouts when Uncles Buck and Tommy are standing under the arch. There's a ripple of laughter.

Taking her hand, Aunthena bends down to murmur, "Not yet, sweetie. Bobby has to say a few words first, okay?"

Jee-yun pouts, but catches Uncle Tommy's wink. He mouths, "Later." She subsides and sits on the empty seat between Apa and Eomma.

Uncle Bobby talks a little bit, and then Uncle Buck says something that makes Uncle Tommy's face do that funny twisty thing like he's going to cry, and then Uncle Tommy says something that does make Uncle Buck cry, and they exchange rings, and - finally! - they kiss.

Jee-yun cheers. Everyone she loves is here and happy, and Uncle Tommy has promised her a dance later. She can't wait.

visual aid: Jee-yun's dress

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #jee yun buckley han #118 fam #this got a little away from me to be honest #apa and eomma are mr and mrs lee #yes i will have little jee yun claim them as her grandparents #pq writes

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melis-writes · 1 year ago

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Moth to Flame (Part II) [Michael Corleone x Reader Series, 18+ Smut] Chapter 42 – Matrimony.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 41 / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“You’re a Corleone woman now, after all." / “You’re my bride. You deserve that and all the more, do you understand?”

You married Michael Corleone in the summer of 1949, binding the allyship of your two families together but sealing your matrimony with love, bliss and trust. Falling in love, compatibility, love languages and a change in your lifestyle met you in an instant, and being Mrs. Michael Corleone altered your life forever. You can still remember how you fell for him and every bit of affection and intimacy shared from the beginning. You remember; you remember it all, and as you look into the past to compare it to your present and expect for your future, you realize nothing remains changed.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of virginity/loss of virginity, nudity, sexual themes & depictions, heavy touching & kissing, fingering, mentions of pregnancy & planning for children, sex.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The first in-between chapter of Moth to Flame: Part II is finally here!! 😫🙏🏻 I'm sooo sorry for such a delay in posting this chapter, but life has been extremely hectic and busy. 😭 The Vichael girlies are going to adore this chapter is all I'm going to say! We delve into Victoria and Michael's marriage from the very beginning! 🤭❤️‍🔥 This is filled with romance, fluff and domestic wholesomeness. How Victoria and Michael fell in love to how their lives changed as husband and wife and more is all included. I wanted this to be very romantic and sensual before we dive back into the action of current day Moth to Flame! 😳

1956. Your name is Victoria Ferrari Corleone, and you’re the wife of the most powerful mobster in North America–Michael Corleone. A lifestyle of crime and secrecy is all you've known and ever wanted to know, complimenting the cruelty of Michael Corleone's influence in the United States. With your enemies fallen before you and all loose ends tied up, you continue your life and marriage with the Corleone family while refusing to look back on your past. Yet it's the skeletons in your closet that a shine a light on revealing you're a true mafiosa. Ensnared in the shadows just as much as Michael is, you find yourself betrayed by the unexpected with all of your secrets ready to spill–especially ones you've hidden from Michael. With more than one pair of eyes watching your every move, you find yourself trapped amidst potential scandals and a familiar, lovesick secret admirer adamant on removing Michael out of the picture to have you all to himself. Like a moth to a flame, you've reached the point of no return and the light that breaks down the darkness threatens to take you next.

Bouquets of pink and white roses, white silk, lilac adornments, angel food cake, the lace finishing over your wedding gown, and the taste of Michael’s lips over yours; you married Michael Corleone in the summer of 1949.

Planning for your wedding was one of the few and only times in your life when you felt you had a million things going through your mind at once.

After weeks of careful planning, the hardest part—the wedding itself—came in bliss and resonated perfectly with everything you had in mind for your perfect wedding day.

The colors you chose for your wedding ranged from an equal hint of décor in baby pink, lilac, and beige, whereas peonies, lilacs, and dahlias were your flowers of choice.

Silk tablecloth, handcrafted Italian furniture imported from Sicily, seven-tier angel food cake, seven varieties of cannoli from pistachio to limoncello, over a hundred bottles of wine—Grilo, Inzolia and Grecanico just to name a few—aged at least ten years, French champagne, little pastries of sorbets and mini cheesecakes served throughout and freshly squeezed juice from the fruit from the Corleone garden itself were just some of the highlights of your wedding day.

Even your wedding gown itself had been custom designed and tailored with the finest Italian silks and fabrics, following a lengthy session of perfecting your hair, makeup, and manicure with your mother, Mama Corleone, Connie, and Sandra down to rehearing how you would walk down the aisle to which sets of jewelry with diamonds and pearls suited you best.

Everything was planned and executed to perfection—to say the least. Scarcely were there moments throughout the planning period where the wedding wasn’t mentioned in one way or another; it was the only topic on your mind for days to come.

Consummation of your marriage was expected next from all through tradition and customs, but it wasn’t a concept you and Michael personally believed in.

Although you were a virgin before you met Michael, he most certainly was not. After his brief marriage with Apollonia, the concept of no intimacy until marriage let alone time spent together or some form of physical affection before marriage was seen and strictly enforced as heavily taboo in Sicily only reminded him of how backward he believed the concept to be, as did you.

Of course, you and Michael were both anticipating and thinking about the intimacy you’d share with one another after your wedding celebration, but not immediately after. That would be eagerly waiting for the both of you at the end of the night.

With the wedding cake having been cut, final drinks served and last dances shared, both of your families collected together all of the bridal gifts, thanked and said goodbyes to every guest they could get to while the wedding staff began to clean up.

Michael and you stood for more photographs by and with guests, thanking them for attending as well before you both made off with security to the vehicle that would take you to your first estate.

You’d both arrive at your new estate by the time security did a full sweep and search of the Corleone manor and all festivities had officially come to an end.

Before you and Michael would settle down for the remainder of the day after the wedding, you both went to meet with your families and new in-laws.

Tomorrow morning there’d be the wedding reception to look forward to after all, but there was more than enough for both you and Michael to think about and do before then.

Upon stepping out of your chauffeur’s vehicle at your new estate’s grounds, the first thing your eyes found were those of your bodyguards surrounding your new estate.

Noting the heavy yet inconspicuous security around, it was only a split second longer before you blinked and a warm smile crossed over your lips in reaction to Michael standing by your side; his hand laced with yours as you both began to make your way inside the estate.

Just a few feet from the front door you could already hear the cheerful voices and banter of your parents and in-laws in the foyer; you couldn’t help but feel your exhilarated mood amplify with excitement once more.

“Victoria! Michael! Sweetheart!” Your mother beamed, extending her arms out as she skipped over to the both of you.

Hugged, congratulated a dozen more times, and kissed by your parents and new-in-laws, happy tears are shed once again for you and Michael as a newlywed couple.

“Promettimi che mi chiamerai se ti serve qualcosa!” (Promise me you'll call if you need anything!) Carmela gently squeezed your shoulder after pulling away from a hug, smiling at you.

“Home sweet home,” your mother cooed, bewildered by the grandiose luxury your new estate has to offer just by standing in the foyer alone. “How wonderful.”

“We’re looking forward to that wedding reception,” your father grinned, redirecting his gaze to Michael. “It’ll be an honor to dine in the newlyweds’ home.”

“It’s an honor to host,” Michael agreed, giving a small, quick smile. “I look forward to it, Don Ferrari.”

“Mm,” Vito nodded, approaching both you and Michael. “And the bridal gifts… I had them arranged to be placed in your guest room. Humble gifts as they may be from our family friends, but they’re close to overflowing.”

“A problem I’d actually like to deal with,” you giggled back. “Thank you, father.”

Naturally, the gifts you received from attending friends, family, and guests aren’t exclusive to gifts newlyweds would benefit from, but a wide variety of items ranging from cash bills to jewelry almost as if the givers were trying to appease you and Michael directly.

Without even having to look inside all of the bridal purses and open each individual gift, you already assumed to yourself there are thousands of dollars worth of gifts there alone waiting for you and Michael that may very well take days to completely open.

Your families deliberately didn’t stay for long to give you and Michael as much privacy as possible today, and you and Michael were more than happy to see them out with waves and smiles before settling down for the rest of the day.

“It’s not over for them,” Michael commented by the gates of the estate, loosening his tie.

“No, it isn’t,” you let out a light laugh, smoothening down your wedding gown. “Not until after the wedding reception, at least.”

Michael chuckled—a rare first time he’s in a somewhat lighthearted mood for the entirety of the day. “Do you need anything, darling?”

“No,” you blushed, gesturing down to your dress. “Only to get this lovely gown off of me in one piece and my makeup at last.”

Just a split second later, you both heard a sharp whistle come towards the gates of the estate which prompted you and Michael’s attention immediately.

“Hey, Mikey!” Sonny hollered from the gates, leaning against his car and waving at both of you. “No invitations for Tom, Fredo, and I to see the new place, eh? Come on down!”

“I’ll be right with you,” Michael glanced back at you.

You nodded understandingly, relieved you’ll at least get the time to quickly undress and take off your makeup before finally getting to spend some time alone with Michael, and you’re more than happy to have Michael bond with his brothers before retiring for the rest of the day with you too.

The endless amounts of gifts and stuffed bridal purses crossed your mind once more as you entered the estate, imagining you and Michael would more than likely have to get Tom to secure any precious assets or cash bills while the other items remain secure.

You carefully slipped out of your wedding gown and let the lacy, tulle fabric pool at your feet as you grabbed a white, silk nightgown to step into; careful not to let any of your makeup smear against the fabric.

You’re not one to wear a full face of makeup on any regular day, but outings, special events, and evenings—especially your wedding—remain exceptions each time you enjoyed getting dolled up, but your daily beauty routine only consisted of your normal skincare steps, light eye makeup, a bit of eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick.

Upon Michael’s return inside the estate and to the bedroom to undress and unwind, it was his first time gazing upon your face without any makeup as you cautiously stored your nightgown away in an empty closet.

You hadn’t even noticed Michael’s eyes on you at first but picked up on his presence immediately; right then and there, Michael had found himself admiring your beauty and looks, stunned by your natural appearance.

“More congratulations?” You smiled shyly, turning around to face your new husband.

“Something like that,” Michael answered, tossing his tie onto the edge of the bed. “Nothing we both haven’t heard enough of.”

You held back your laughter, “then I hope you don’t mind I retired my glamor for the night already.”

“Not at all,” a ghost of a smile crossed Michael’s lips as he slowly began to approach you. “I’m sure the bridal gifts have nothing but your name on them, after all. I don’t think I need to go and see for myself.”

“Oh, please,” you felt a blush stinging your cheeks as you gazed up at Michael.

“You look beautiful,” Michael murmured, tilting your chin up to face him. “You know that?”

Your skin gave a healthy glow under the evening light as Michael admired every inch of you from the shape of your cheekbones to the color of your eyes, the curve of your lips, and your body language towards him filled with desire.

You expected then and there for Michael to lean in and kiss you, and he did, but gently upon your forehead as he let his warm lips linger over your skin.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment and embraced your husband, taking in the scent of his heavenly cologne as your heart began to race in your chest against his.

“You should expect all of this, you know,” Michael spoke to you in an ushered voice. “You’re a Corleone woman now, after all. Those gifts want nothing more than to appease and impress you, I’ll make sure of it myself.”

Michael’s intention is to spoil you to no avail and not only with material gifts but your every request; the luxurious lifestyle you can expect to live with him as Michael’s wife and the future mother of his children holds you on a separate pedestal next to being Don Ferarri’s wife, and Michael will continue to keep it that way.

The very gifts with your name engraved upon them awaiting you consisted of everything from cosmetics, luxurious perfumes, oils, and creams, full sets of dazzling jewelry set with diamonds and precious stones, congratulatory letters, towel sets followed by pacifiers, bibs, baby bottles, and cloth diapers that made you blush as you unwrapped them—knowing all would be expecting the news of your first pregnancy next.

An amused look crossed Michael’s eye as he wrapped his arms around you seeing you open the final present for today a set of two pacifiers, he saw a look of excitement over your own expression but also blush spreading over your cheeks as the two of you made eye contact once again, knowing the rest of the night began to the both of you.

The first home you and Michael owned together and settled in was a grand estate in Long Island but outside of the Corleone mall unlike Connie and Carlo’s home and that of Sonny and Sandra’s that were inside the gated family community.

Still, your new home was not far from Michael’s family or yours, and you could make the commute in twenty minutes.

The plot of land in which your new estate would be built was purchased immediately on the day of your engagement ceremony with construction where your father and Vito had given the green light for construction to begin the day of.

Normally for the size of your estate, it would have taken a good construction crew six months with daily work, but the home was completely finished in just one. Bringing in extra of the best workers and paying a premium always worked well in the end.

Your grand estate stood at just slightly over five thousand square feet with state-of-the-art architecture, taking inspiration from Modern American design to Italian fixtures and marble imported from Rome.

Your estate was two stories, finished with an attic consisting of a master bedroom with a walk-in closet designed to be almost the size of a small bedroom for you and Michael, a study that was half a private library, two guest rooms downstairs, a nursery upstairs, a wine room in the basement, full front and back yard, three other extra bedrooms, an office for Michael and four bathrooms.

A mid-sized swimming pool was built in the backyard where your home’s carefully curated and trimmed garden surrounded the sides and fences protected your family’s privacy so one could neither look into the estate grounds nor out of it.

Twenty-four-hour surveillance was always to be expected with varying bodyguards and a careful selection of specific windows—such as the ones in Michael’s office—were selected and built to be soundproof.

Your bathtub had 24k gold claw-finished, quartz countertops as well as in the kitchen, marble floors, a foyer in the front of the estate fit with a French handcrafted chandelier, a private exit to the gardens and plenty of storage with a full laundry room at the end of the hallway downstairs.

Crown fixtures adorned the kitchen and a wide spiral staircase decorated with a blood-red carpet led upstairs to where one of two hidden emergency exits only you and Michael knew how to activate could be found.

The price of your home came to a grand total of $250,000 and was exactly where you and Michael wanted to be; exactly where the two of you planned to start your family and raise your children.

Michael and you had both grown up in Long Island; meaning nothing short of symbolic with the feel of home settling into your first house in New York together.

You and Michael only had a brief discussion about where your first home could be since the two of you came to an agreement so quickly to choose Long Island to stay in.

At the time, thoughts of buying another home elsewhere or even moving in the future were not on your mind although Michael had begun to think of Nevada and a villa in Sicily almost immediately on; the latter being a familiar and mutually agreed upon idea to you.

Of course, both you and Michael’s family knew just as well as the both of you why you didn’t have a honeymoon after your wedding, and there were no questions asked or teasing to be made.

Going on a honeymoon with Michael after your wedding was in your mind just as much as your wedding was, but the same could not be said for Michael who was much too preoccupied with the danger and threat of another family war, especially with hostility coming from the Ricci family.

Going outside of New York—let alone going to Sicily—would paint a clear, red target over both your and Michael’s backs and especially create vulnerability within the Corleone family considering Vito was semi-retired at the time.

It didn’t matter if you and Michael decided to visit Rome, Venice, or anywhere else in Italy just for the sake of visiting home but staying away from Sicily; the mafia families including the Ricci’s still had power stretching there legitimately.

Naturally, both you and Michael yearned to take a true honeymoon trip to Sicily and Sicily only. Even with the rest of the world as a choice to visit, you would have rather continued to postpone your honeymoon until you could safely visit Sicily again without having to worry about anything but how to spend quality time with your husband.

You’d very well have your honeymoon with Michael a little after your first anniversary together, somewhat defeating the purpose of a true honeymoon but with the threat of your lives and your family on the line, it was all very worth it with a legitimate reason to delay.

In Michael’s second marriage now come hell or high water he would never risk a slight chance of you being anywhere where there’s a notion of danger, even if you begged him to.

“Well,” you bit your lip, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m a little disappointed, but I understand.”

“I know, darling,” Michael raised his water glass to his lips, taking a sip. “I feel no different than you do.”

You brushed your fingers against the fabric of the window’s curtains and glanced over to Michael again. “They’ll know, won’t they?”

Michael’s eyes met with yours almost instantly; his expression appeared grim knowing you referred to the Ricci family, but with the Barzinis and Tattaglias to worry about as well.

“As they do,” Michael replied and set his glass down. “Does it bother you?”

“Not exactly,” you shook your head and faced the window—blushing as you felt Michael’s presence approach you from behind. “But it’s been on my mind again and again these past few weeks. I can’t shake it off.”

“And on mine,” Michael lovingly embraced you from behind and lightly pressed his chest against your back. “As much as I would like to degrade them to such, they’re not animal enough to disgrace a wedding, even without an invite.”

“They should know better,” you murmured under your breath.

“And they more than likely do,” Michael nodded and moved his hands down to your hips to tenderly caress them. “None of those men deserve further justifications, but above all, they’re curious about you, and just who you are.”

You placed your hands over Michael’s and gave them a soft squeeze as you remained quiet.

“If it’s about safety—” Michael began.

“I feel safe with you,” you told him as you turned around.

Michael’s eyes locked onto yours as he gave you a small nod; you swore to yourself for a moment that you could see a glimmer of a brief smile over his plush lips.

“I do,” you continued, “always. And as you can guess…” You blushed sheepishly, “I was thinking about our honeymoon too, and we can’t even go.”

“We will soon enough,” Michael rubbed up and down your arms gingerly. “When we are able to and when we can. You know it’s not something I want to put aside to forget or neglect.”

“I know, baby,” you smiled back shyly. “I believe you.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Michael lowered his tone of voice and pressed a warm kiss over your forehead. “I promise I will. None of what our family is going through now will last. I personally guarantee it,” as Michael moved back from the kiss, he tilted your chin up to gaze directly into his eyes. “You’re my bride. You deserve that and all the more, do you understand?”

Blushing furiously and feeling a wave of butterflies rush to the pit of your stomach, you nodded at Michael before leaning up to give his lips a sweet kiss.

“I’ll wait until you say we can go,” you whispered against his lips as you wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulders.

“Until then,” Michael murmured and closed off the distance between both of your bodies, ensnaring you in a deep kiss once more.

Michael’s changed lifestyle to a mafioso and your continued one as a mafiosa would never change. You both married one another knowing what your lives are and would continue to be, but also remaining unaltered.

You’re a lawyer, after all, and a skilled prosecutor with a name made for herself—reputation and all—in New York. Your career is more than something you see to corrupt and use for your “family business”, but is also a passion; something you want to continue doing until you feel ready to retire.

Michael was always impressed as to how you were able to find a passionate career that also benefited both sides of the family business.

Through being a lawyer, you also bonded well with Tom and had another fellow lawyer as a brother-in-law to bond with.

Regardless of whether you and Michael choose to have one child a fear down the line or four back to back, Michael has no intention of interfering in your career or keeping you from it; the same can be said for any of your other passions and hobbies.

You already know your maternity leave from work and raising an infant will take priority in your life which will result in a break from work, but you’ve accepted it and will make it happen.

Perhaps if you weren’t a mafiosa yourself from a powerful crime family, you would have fit the bill as a mafioso’s housewife better but Michael recognizes your true talents and abilities just as well as you know yourself.

Now married, you attend trials and continue with your cases at most three times a week. After all, you’ve always been careful in choosing which cases to get involved in while maintaining a flexible schedule for yourself.

You built a reputation with your prowess this far without Michael and his family’s influence, which begs the question of what Michael’s lifestyle has become after marrying you.

Michael is always working, even when he’s not. More than ever, Michael spends time with his father and brothers. Even when Michael is alone in his own office, he’s talking over the phone to his men or family and constantly keeping himself preoccupied until he’s with you.

Michael’s unwavering dedication to the family business, his loyalty, and his work ethic don’t bother you. As a matter of fact, it’s everything you expected from Michael and saw coming before you married him.

What you love about Michael’s work with the family business is that he can separate it and he will separate it very well from his personal life.

Michael does not mention anything related to his work when he’s with you regardless of how casual the circumstances or if your own curiosity arises since your family is also almost always involved.

You know then and only in those scenarios would you ask Michael a question if you had one and your family could not answer; you know your boundaries and where the line remains when asking Michael about his work.

To Michael, any mention of what he does and what he is outside of work is nothing but severely unpleasant and he would rather avoid it altogether; something you respect and agree with.

At dinner one evening, you saw Michael’s tension settled within him as he ate—sitting across from you in silence.

Michael sighed quietly and took a sip of his red wine before his eyes met yours; seeing curiosity spark in your expression.

“Ready to settle down, baby?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Something like that,” Michael nodded, continuing to eat his risotto.

“Everything alright with your father?” You asked and rose up from your seat to begin cleaning up.

“He’s fine,” Michael’s answers were dry and to the point on purpose. “We’re working on it.”

“Alright,” you gathered a pile of empty plates, brushing off crumbs upon the tablecloth next to Michael.

Only a split second later did you look back up at Michael and catch his eye—almost feeling embarrassed for asking but you neither see annoyance nor discomfort in Michael’s expression.

You understood Michael didn’t want to talk about this with you and you didn’t push it. You also knew last night he didn’t come home from his father’s estate until 2 AM, and you had no intention of bothering him about it now.

You’ve always had more than enough to do for yourself and for the home regardless of how long Michael worked in or out of the manor.

You’d have your own day to worry about; cleaning up after breakfast, prepping for lunch, tidying up the house, laundry if required, getting any other daily errands done, focusing on a bit of your own work projects, then relaxing with a good book or in front of the television with a glass of wine.

You could step out into the garden for some fresh air, pull weeds, water the lawn, go for a walk or a dip in the pool; you balance your work and life well and you’ve never felt neglected or lost without a sense of purpose.

The compatibility between you and Michael is like none other and the two of you have always recognized this; there is no lack of transparency or intimacy, and there is no elephant in the room blocking the two of you from bonding with one another.

You and Michael could and always will make it work.

When it came down to planning to start a family with each other, having children was brought up immediately between Michael and you; a crucial concept and the second step into a married life with one another.

Of course, the brief conversation that only consisted of asking one another if you wanted children when you and Michael had first met did not count as a real and insightful conversation, it did strike you that Michael was a mature and serious man, ready for fatherhood and expecting to start a family in the very near future.

Michael would not have minded waiting a year or two before having children, but he would personally not wish to delay it any further past that.

To Michael, it was as if he had an urgency of some kind to start a family but there was no reasoning behind it or pressure coming from anyone. Still, you came to appreciate how much Michael anticipated entering parenthood with you, regardless of his reasons.

Perhaps you did sense Michael’s urgency when he first met you and asked if you wanted to have children in the future, but you simply had brushed it off for all that it was—a simple question.

You were twenty-five years old when you met Michael, and you were the second youngest sibling in your family and the only daughter.

With your little brother Dante being fifteen years younger than you, you practically raised him alongside your brothers and because you came from an equally large extended family, you loved children for as long as you could remember.

Just as you and your brothers had grown up, you knew the importance of proper parenting and how love would mold a child’s life forever.

Michael believed children were the products of their parents’ discipline, love, and behavior, saying, “If adults can bring out the worst in each other, they can do the same for children”.

Michael himself was twenty-nine when he met you and neither of you had objections of any kind to starting a family immediately after getting married.

Coming from the families and reputations you both grew up in and had, things such as time and money would simply not be an issue for you and Michael.

It was more of a matter of readiness and active parenting heavily required from both of you equally, not just yours as the mother.

You also knew Michael would be a stricter parent than you, but this did not imply anything harsh or along the lines of cruelty whatsoever.

Michael is not the type of man to ever raise a hand against a child or even raise his voice; calm, and collected, and with thorough explanation comes discipline and understanding. Michael knows how a child’s mind copes and works.

You are most definitely not the kind of parent to yell, threaten, let alone glare at children to have them respect or tolerate your fear let alone beat a child.

Neither Michael nor you ever faced such things growing up, but you both saw your fair share growing up with other children at school and in the neighborhood who did not have the same childhood as you two did.

Any type of abuse or psychological manipulation was a severe hard line; it was something you and Michael would never subject any child to, ever.

From being the only big sister to your little brother Dante, you knew there were a million ways around teaching and disciplining children without being physically, psychologically, or verbally abusive—even to children who have behavior issues.

You and Michael had been stressing to yourselves subconsciously the need to be nothing but good, loving parents teaching your future children manners and discipline early on without fear of repercussions or pain, but simply just to learn and understand.

Just a week ago you walked down the aisle and faced your lover—for the last time only as a lover before becoming Michael’s wife, wedded as Mrs. Corleone.

Now as you gazed at yourself in the mirror, the role of Michael Corleone’s wife had already truly embedded in you; seeing your husband clasping a new diamond necklace around your neck gently.

You blushed as you caught Michael’s eye in the mirror, placing a hand over your necklace carefully.

Michael admired the glistening diamonds over your neck; his eyes adoring the very shape of your collarbones before he leaned toward your shoulder and planted a soft kiss over it.

With a bit of arousal having flared up in you, you shivered from Michael’s warm touch as he let his hands linger around the back of your neck before he placed them on your hips.

“Mm,” your eyes fluttered shut as you took in the brief moment, feeling Michael’s breath over the side of your neck.

Michael’s hands slowly made their way over to your stomach where he rubbed tenderly, watching as your body language submitted to how good he was already making you feel.

“Are you late?” Michael murmured over your shoulder.

Butterflies churned in your stomach and blush stung your cheeks at the very question. “I think it’s still too soon to tell, baby.”

“Mm,” Michael nodded and began to massage your sides.

“Why do you ask?” You slowly opened your eyes and spoke to him in a soft, ushered tone. “Do you suspect I am?”

“Perhaps,” Michael answered, “I want to be the first to know.”

You cracked a shy smile, “and you will be without a doubt.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Michael took your hands in his, turning you around to face him directly before he pulled you into his embrace. “Although you never did tell me how many you wanted.”

“I can tell you now,” you rested your head over Michael’s chest and nodded. “Four little ones… That would be something.”

“Mhmm,” Michael kissed the top of your head. “A topic better suited for the future after we have our first.”

“Boy or girl?” You grinned and looked up at your husband.

“Doesn’t matter,” Michael told you. “But ultimately a son somewhere down the line to succeed our family.”

‘Of course.’ You knew it must have been the same with Michael’s father as it was with yours; one son at the very least to carry the family’s legacy under his name. ‘Understandable.’

“If you’re not…” Michael’s hands touched your hips again; his eyes beckoning to you. “Then we can try again.”

“And again?” You teased back, giggling. “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Michael murmured and pulled your hips into his.

“As many times as we need to, hmm?” Your breath hitched as you bit down on your lip.

“As many times as you want to,” Michael corrected before he sealed a kiss over your lips.

The intimacy and love continuing to blossom between you and Michael unfolded in feverish desire and yearning. Like the beginning of an eternal and dangerous addiction, neither of you could get enough of the other.

Michael knew your love language was physical affection and words of affirmation just as you knew he was spending quality time with you and touching.

Michael couldn’t care less for material gifts and preferred experiences above all, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t care, enjoy, or appreciate either.

“Ah…” A breathy moan escaped your lips as your hand clutched over Michael’s back; feeling his firm, flexing muscle as Michael remained leaning down and hovering over your naked body.

Between the sounds of Michael’s lips leaving a trail of hot kisses over your neck, you heard his breathing hitching as his throbbing erection pressed against your stomach.

Barely a week into your marriage and filled to the brim with insatiable love and desire, Michael was unable to get enough of his new bride and her beauty.

“Ohhh…”

Inhaling deeply, Michael took in your scent as he nuzzled your neck; now glowing pink with the love marks he left behind as you had let your free hand roam through Michael’s tousled hair.

“Look at me,” Michael whispered against your lips as he grazed his thumb over your mouth, parting your bottom lip. “Look at me when I make love to you.”

‘Oh God, yes…’

The first three months of marriage may as well have been a fever dream for both of you.

Of course, none would be surprised at the sudden stamina the new bride and groom have for one another although some teasing and a dirty joke here and there would be in order, but if it wasn’t a night out or quality time spent with the family, Michael and you were doing nothing else but getting lost in one another again and again.

You’d lay in bed naked with the blankets barely covering yourself as you’d watch Michael strip down right in front of you before approaching you on the bed, and Michael enjoyed every second of undressing you himself with his own hands; the way the curves of your hips and fullness of your thighs felt against his hand as your skin was hot to the touch, brimming with passion and your body begging for pleasure was nothing short of ecstasy to Michael.

With your bodies intertwined with one another, you could practically feel Michael’s heart racing against yours; nothing but toe-curling, eye-rolling, intense orgasms, and memorizing every part of each other’s bodies filled your evenings for days to come.

You woke an urge tailored to your pleasure inside of Michael he could not ignore. Even after a night of ecstasy, if you approached him half-naked in the living room and begged Michael to fuck you again, he wouldn’t say no.

You straddled Michael’s lap and let your lace panties slip off your ankles as you felt the smooth, Italian silk fabric of Michael’s suit brush against your bare skin.

On his lap, you let out a whimpering moan as you pressed your hips against his and ran your hands up Michael’s half-unbuttoned dress shirt; his chest hair brushing past your fingers as you clutched onto his shoulders.

Michael leaned his back against his seat comfortably; his hands ran from your calves to your upper thighs before he cupped your ass and gave it a greedy squeeze.

Michael’s eyes expectantly looked at you. “You play the innocent, sweet role well…”

“Mm—” You whimpered as you pressed your lips against Michael’s neck from him giving your ass another harsh squeeze.

“But I see right through it,” Michael whispered to you—his tone low and husky.

“I…” You breathed shakily against Michael’s skin before planting a deep kiss over it; your free hand roamed through his black, silky hair.

You heard a barely audible, soft moan escape Michael’s lips which only intensified the feverish arousal coursing through your veins as you continued to hungrily kiss up and around Michael’s neck.

Michael wrapped one arm around your waist and kept his hand over your ass; his eyes half remained half-opened as he let you get lost within him, taking and getting everything you want.

Your kisses grew wet, hot, and sloppy around Michael’s jawline as you moaned through them yourself; severely aroused to the point where you thought your wetness pooling over the fabric of your panties was soaking through Michael’s trousers.

“Mine…” You cupped Michael’s cheek and turned his face to look him in the eye directly. “All mine…”

“Yours,” Michael said back before his lips sealed over yours in a crushing, needy kiss.

Your pussy throbbed from arousal over Michael’s knee; it practically had a heartbeat of its own from how horny you were feeling towards your husband—so much so that it was almost criminal.

“Look at you,” As Michael pulled away from the kiss, he gripped your throat with his free hand and let his thumb trace the outline of your bottom lip. “Can’t get your hands off of me.”

“You’re mine,” you panted back and took Michael by pleasant surprise as you licked his thumb. “

“That’s right, baby,” Michael murmured before pulling you back to him by your throat to give you another wet, rough kiss over the mouth.

As you fully straddled Michael’s lap and began to slowly grind your hips, gyrating them against Michael’s pulsating erection, Michael let his hands slip up through your skirt and play with the band of your panties.

Lost in insistent, passionate kisses, Michael pulled at your panties only to let it snap back against your skin as you were distracted between his lips.

Michael let his fingers go further, parting your dewy pussy lips to spread your wetness with one hand while squeezing your breast and massaging your nipple with his fingers on the other.

Aside from such fiery, mutual infatuation and lust, there was more; there was and always will be more.

The love between you and Michael blossomed so naturally that it could never feel forced like it was some sort of obligation that had to be fulfilled.

In public, despite the two of you being not so fond of blatant displays of affection, held hands or had Michael wrap an arm over your waist in casual but adoring affection you craved and yearned for always.

Just one touch from Michael—let alone his presence—was more than enough for you. It did nothing but thrill you all the more knowing this man is yours and you’re his; you’ll have all of Michael whenever you want and however you want.

Distance makes your heart grow fonder when Michael’s away on his business trips or doesn’t come home for a night. You’ve never felt insecurity, unsafe, or any sort of lingering sadness about Michael’s consistent absences to begin with.

Even at the end of a long night with little time to yourselves to follow another eventful one, you’d have just the same satisfaction in Michael’s embrace without the sexual intimacy.

Some of your most loving, romantic nights with Michael were the two of you skin-to-skin on the rooftop, naked and exchanging soft kisses as Michael smoked a cigarette.

Saying, “Yes, I do” and signing your marriage papers, your legal name became Victoria Ferrari Corleone; a unique love and lover to Michael in the sense that Michael could never treat you the way he treated Apollonia or Kay, but exponentially more protective, loving, and open to you in all aspects.

Your compatibility with Michael only resulted in him being all the more open with you; not feeling obligated to because you’ll get upset or ask, but because Michael wishes to—because he wants to.

There’s simply no entitlement; only love and caring. You could not describe your marriage to Michael Corleone in any other way.

#the godfather #al pacino #michael corleone x reader #michael corleone x oc #michael corleone fanfic #godfather au #michael corleone smut #michael corleone x reader smut #michael corleone #the godfather x reader #godfather x reader #alfredo james pacino #the godfather part ii #moth to flame fic #moth to flame fanfic

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star-princess-princess · 1 year ago

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this is for femmes who love being super girly, being super soft, dressing delicately, angels, collect porcelain figurines, vintage lace, cute boxes, ribbons and bows, frills and ruffles, romance novels, period dramas, being kind and sweet, feeling like a princess, heart shaped anything, pink pearls, stuffed bunnies, canopy beds, silk sheets, pretty lamps with pretty lamp shades, vanity mirrors, fairy lights, mini skirts, tea parties, smelling like strawberries, cream, and roses, pretty quilts, pretty makeup, quilts, thrifting vintage, wearing heels, hello kitty, baby’s breath, bunnies, creating super sparkly adorable art, fashion, rose water, lilac, ballet, ice skating, baby pink, valentine’s day, unicorns, being a lover girl, feeling like a fairy, heart shapes purses, Sanrio accessories, lace curtains, victorian design, art history, peonies, angel themes, pretty post cards, taking yourself on a lil date, getting yourself a lil treat, vintage picture frames, sewing and embellishing, wedding decor, renaissance art, pink and white baskets, art museums, love letters, poetry, fantasy books with magic and fairies, holding hands, matching nail polish with your butch/stud/masc, couples skin care, diy fashion and jewelry, floral scented perfume, mini candelabras, pink candles, wearing skirts, vintage heart soap, tea, fluffy sweaters, gardening, tiaras, glass figurines, little trinkets, classical music, bows on everything, wearing ditsy floral or pointelle knit, making flower crowns, swans, flower crowns, candles, vintage art of flowers, ornate framed mirrors, playing dress up, rose scented body wash, and vintage strawberry shortcake,

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gatorboys22 · 2 months ago

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|☆•{Camelia's pink, longing for you}•☆|

{☆} the third and last part of the hanahaki disease au I wrote for! Here's Timmy's; Acacia's yellow, secret love. With the first piece being Marco's; Lilac's purple, first emotion of love.

{☆} lowkey made a cousin for Bodie in this for it to work out. Also kinda made it angsty at the end whoops!

Love was something Bodie always knew, romantic and platonic. The love he had for his family swelled in his heart as he tried to protect them. Romantic for Nola, the first ever crush he had on someone, before she was taken.

Marigolds were coughed up for a few days, the grief and sorrow of losing someone he loved. His family tried to help him, but having his first ever crush ripped away when he knew she loved him back hurt. But as time went on he slowly lost those feelings and accepted that she wouldn't want that for him.

Love is a strange thing, his Ma would say. The emotion could be your biggest ally, or your worst enemy. He saw the disease in full effect around fourteen years old.

His Ma and grandma was scared straight seeing his cousin coughing up the flowers for that traveling gator. Bodie at the time didn't realize how dangerous the sickness his cousin caught was. But it worked out in the end with his cousin, Shannon, confessing her love and the traveling gator accepted them.

Their wedding was nice and simple, love was in the air between them as they shared a kiss. Expediting this when younger Bodie kind of wanted that, to find romantic love. He saw the way couples would look at each other during times of peace and hardship.

So when Bug was thrown onto his lap after losing everyone he loved. He decided to be kind to them, to wait for them to tell him why. Why they kept being a hunter from him.

That night in Timmy's tree house made him realize the crush he had. Sure it was rough at first but Bodie kept it simple, knowing right now wouldn't be the best time to confess. But as time went on, the moments and memories he made with them weight his heart down.

Then that day he scared the hunters away with his roar. The fear in their whole body shook him, they wouldn't see him in that way not like he does. Not when they saw the monster he had to be to protect the last bit of family he had.

The flowers didn't come up until after they began their journey to find Timmy. Bodie saw the way Bug was going through hell to help him get Timmy back. During the first night watch, Bodie coughed up flower buds again for the second time in years.

"Oh, why did I have to go and fall for you?" Mumbling sadly, Bodie looked out to the swamp. Not wanting to look at Bug, the flowers itched his throat when ever he looked at them.

When they got into the arena, Bodie's feelings were able to be put aside while rescuing Timmy. The that horrible family reunion happened, Bodie was glad he had something to distract himself with. But then, when Bug told them all they'd get everyone out.

No matter what, the flowers came up again. The way Bug was trying so hard to get Bodie's last pieces of family left for him made his heart swell. Even now in this shabby cell, away from his brother and Timmy.

Camellia's fell from his lips as he curled into a ball and sobbed. How was Bug going to help him? This would ruin the plan and the flowers were getting bigger now. Bode was also sure Roland and Timmy saw bits of flowers he coughed up before being separate from them.

He wanted to keep this a secret and slowly lose the feelings for Bug. But the longing of wanting Bug to look at him was stronger. Now in this cold cell Bodie couldn't help but think about Nola, at least he'd see her again if the plan doesn't work out.

#gator boys #obsidian lantern #asmr story #asmr rp #swamp noises #gator boys bodie #swamp writes #swamp tales

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year ago

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Playing Pretend (Part 5)

The wedding rehearsal brings more opportunities to show off a fake relationship with real feelings.

Roy Kent x Reader

1.7k words

Warnings: Language, mentions of champagne, tiny jealous moments, lots of fluff and pining

Series Masterlist

Dressed in his black slacks and button-down shirt, Roy sat on the bed, scrolling mindlessly though the pictures on his phone while you finished getting ready in the bathroom. He loved going back through pictures of the two of you; childhood photos your mum had found and sent to you both, posed photos with his sister or Phoebe or friends at parties, drunken selfies at pubs, Snapchats he’d saved, not caring that you could see. His favorite picture was taken a couple months after Jim had broken up with you, and Roy had taken you out to try to get your mind off things. You’d allowed yourself to get completely sloshed, knowing that, as always, Roy Kent would take care of you. After another shot of whatever you’d been drinking, you’d snatched his phone out right of his hand and brought him close for a selfie, planting a big kiss on his cheek as you snapped the picture. When he sent it to you the next day with a simple smiley face emoji, you were mortified, but he loved it. He even set it as your picture on his phone, so he could see it every time you called- which was never often enough.

“Is this too much?”

Roy nearly dropped his phone when he looked up. He’d seen you dressed up plenty of times over the years, and each time made him fall a little bit more in love. But this time he was caught off-guard by the way this dress- one he’d never seen- hugged every curve he’d spent far too much time thinking about. The sight of you in that tight dress was more than enough to make Roy forget to care about closing his dropped jaw.

His clearly impressed reaction made your heart slam against your chest. “Roy?” you asked, more of a nervous squeak this time.

The sound of your unsure voice brought him back. “Oh. No, no, not too much at all,” he rasped, shaking his head, as if that would somehow erase the million thoughts running through his mind. “You look fucking perfect.”

Your smile made things even worse. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” You held out your hand to him, letting yourself imagine, just for a moment, that this was real. That you and Roy were home- your place? His place? Maybe somewhere you shared?- and heading out to some sort of event. Maybe another wedding, one for people you actually liked. Maybe an awards ceremony. Maybe that big charity event his team held every year, the one you always secretly hoped he’d invite you to. And that the two of you would go out, and be exactly the way you were this weekend, and that you’d go home together at the end of the night, laughing and kissing behind closed doors, so in love.

Instead, you’d have to settle for your gorgeous fake boyfriend holding your hand as you headed down to the wedding rehearsal of your sister and ex-boyfriend.

You instinctively tightened your grip on Roy’s hand once you were out the doors and headed into the garden. For the millionth time, his warm breath was in your ear.

“I’m right here.” He punctuated his promise with a soft kiss to your temple; you let yourself melt into him, wishing you could just freeze time and stay right in this moment-

“We’re over here.”

Your sister’s blunt voice interrupted your moment of bliss. Roy let go of your hand in favor of wrapping his arm around you as you walked to the space set up for the ceremony, with white chairs and endless flowers and a lilac runner down the aisle. Somewhere in the back of your head, you thought about the way you’d envisioned your wedding: this same garden, those same chairs, maybe a soft pink runner, less flowers, more greenery. The pit in your stomach grew when you caught sight of Lauren in her pretty white dress, the one she’d sent you lots of pictures of, clutching Jim and beaming up at him triumphantly.

A soft “Oi” got your attention. Roy was smiling down at you.

“Today and tomorrow,” he started softly, “I will be sitting right there. And I will have my eyes on you, and only you, the entire fucking time. So, if you start to feel like you need an anchor, something to keep you steady, you just look at me. And I will make this fucking face at you.” He crossed his eyes and bared his teeth, an exaggerated scowl you’d often seen him share with Phoebe when they played.

The giggle that escaped your lips relaxed you. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning forward to kiss his lips, the tips of your fingers tingling when he kissed you back.

He pulled back with a tiny, growling sigh, as if letting you go was killing him. “Right. Fucking go on then.”

With the feeling of Roy’s kiss still on your lips, you had to resist the urge to skip down the aisle where most of the wedding party was already assembled.

Paul winked when he saw you. “Yours is next, right?”

“We’ve only been seeing each other a couple of months,” you mumbled, trying to play cool.

“So?” Jen asked from Paul’s side. “You’ve known each other your entire lives and have been in love with each other forever. I can’t see the two of you wasting time with just dating.” She turned to Paul. “They’ll be engaged within six months.”

You let out a scoffing laugh, pretending that the idea didn’t sound like a dream come true. “You two really need to stop betting on my love life, okay?”

Before either of them could tease you further, Lauren called for everyone’s attention to start rehearsal. You snuck one more look at Roy, who sat about halfway back and had his eyes already glued to you, as promised. The moment your gazes locked, there was that silly face; you didn’t know you could fall any harder for Roy Kent, but, in that moment, you absolutely managed.

Even if he hadn’t made you a promise, Roy would not have been able to keep his eyes off of you at the rehearsal. It wasn’t just the dress you wore (though he wasn’t fucking complaining); it was you. It was knowing that after this he’d have an entire evening with you by his side, where he could kiss you all he wanted. Sure, he knew it wasn’t real, but did he really care? He’d worry about the aftermath on Sunday when he dropped you off at home, back to your normal lives where you were just friends. Where you saw him as just your best friend’s big brother.

He watched as you laughed at something your older sister said, pleased that you had at least a couple of people who made you feel comfortable up there. He tried his best to not feel some sting of jealousy when you locked arms with a groomsman, some friend of Jim’s who smiled a bit too big when he saw you and whose eyes wandered a bit too boldly. But any feeling of envy disappeared when you locked eyes with Roy and shot him a wink, an assurance that, at least as far as all the wedding guests knew, you were all his.

Once Lauren was satisfied with everyone’s ability to walk in a straight line and stand perfectly still while she and Jim exchanged vows, you practically ran to back Roy so you could head in for the rehearsal dinner.

“Fair warning,” you said in a light voice as his hand found its home on your waist. “Because everyone came up for the polo game, this thing is going to be as big as some people’s wedding receptions.” Your eyes wandered to one of the other bridesmaids, one of Jim’s cousins, the one that made you nauseous with how pretty she was. Especially when her eyes lingered on Roy’s handsome face for just a moment longer than was necessary.

“I don’t think I’ve said it often enough today, but you look fucking gorgeous,” he murmured as you entered the rehearsal dinner, where most of the other guests were already milling about with drinks in their hands as they waited for the bridal party.

Following your gaze as he often did, Roy noticed too. He also noticed the way your cheeks turned pink at the sight of another woman looking at him. He couldn’t resist feeling just a smidge of pleasure at the idea that you were, maybe, just a little bit… jealous?

Not that you needed to be.

Desperate for something to distract you from the butterflies in your stomach, you grabbed a glass of champagne from the large table of drinks and mostly picked over appetizers. “Oh stop,” you huffed, giving the inside of your cheek a small bite to keep yourself from beaming too widely.

Roy shook his head, grabbing himself a glass. “No, I’m fucking serious.” He took a long swig of champagne, craving a bit of courage. “Not saying it as your ‘boyfriend’ or your best friend’s brother or even your friend.” He averted his eyes, knowing he was crossing into dangerous territory as his growling voice went soft. “I’m saying it as someone who always thinks you’re the most stunning woman in the room.”

Your cheeks had never felt so warm. “Roy-”

“You two should find your seats.” Jim had appeared out of nowhere; he spoke to you both, but his eyes were glued to Roy’s hand on your waist. “Dinner’s starting in a moment.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Roy buried his face in your shoulder, his breath warm on your bare skin. “Yeah, thanks, Jim. We’ll get right on that.”

Jim simply rolled his eyes and turned away, quickly slaloming around the other guests who were still wandering around, until he was at Lauren’s side, at the ready, the ever-obedient fiancé.

“Come on, then,” Roy grumbled, urging you to the table where your family was seated. Everyone smiled- that knowing, mischievous smile you’d been seeing all weekend- as Roy pulled out your chair for you.

As annoyed as he’d been at Jim’s interruption, he willed himself to continue his doting boyfriend act- wondering if maybe, just maybe, in agreeing to come to this wedding, he’d accidentally stumbled upon the perfect opportunity to tell you how he felt.

He'd just need a lot more than one glass of champagne first.

#roy kent playing pretend #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction

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siempre-bucky · 2 years ago

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Could I request number 11 from list 1 with Hangman, please? 💙

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: a young Jake literally falls for the girl of his dreams showing her around his family's ranch.

eleven: falling head over heels in love

wc: 1.1k

a/n: I hope you like it!!

Join my blurb weekend!

Fanboy was the first to notice the dried flowers in delicate glass frames that were hung neatly on the wall. Phoenix came up next, spiked lemonade in her hand, and recognized the pink rose from your wedding bouquet. Payback slid another drink into Mickey’s hand and studied frames in your new home. “Yo, Jake,” He called out, twisting to look back at him, “What’s this one?” He pointed to a tried sprig of lavender with his beer bottle.

Your friend's eyes turned to your husband and you smiled at the pink blush dusting his tan cheeks. “Well,” he sighed, dawning a signature Seresin smirk, “that’s from the day we met.”

Years ago, before the medals, muscles, and jet fuel, Jake was a scrawny little thing helping on his family’s ranch. His father sat at the lace covered kitchen table, reading glasses low on his nose while he sifted through documents. His mother, as if she had a mud radar, turned around as soon as the door closed behind Jake. “Jacob!” She scolded, pointing her wooden spoon at his boots. “You’re trackin’ mud into my house.”

He looked down and behind, perfect mud footprints on the light brown wood. “Sorry ma,” he apologized, stepping back onto the rug his mom placed just for that purpose and toeing out of his boots.

“Jake,” his dad chimed in, rubbing his face and watching his son hurry to the fridge to stick his head inside the cold. “That botanist lady’s comin’ round to survey the plants that came up after last month's storm. I want you to join me, it’d be a good experience.”

Jake grabbed one of the mason jars of lemonade his sister prepared and unscrewed the lid. He groaned quietly at the idea of going back into the Austin sun, he’d been out here all morning and now he was expected to help entertain some plant lady? He had a date with a cold shower and a bar of soap. As he drank, his eyes fell on his father who looked at him stoically. He’d rather not argue.

“Yeah, alright,” he panted, looking at the now empty jar.

The two Seresin men walked underneath the large trees and up to the stables, Jake’s frown attached to his lips the entire walk. There stood a taller woman, her long dark hair braided nicely down her back. She looks like a zookeeper in that get up, Jake thought to himself as he tucked his hands in his jeans pockets. He stood by one of the posts holding up the stable awning as his father and the woman shook hands, occupied by the ants marching past him.

They talked for about two minutes before the shaggy blonde grew bored, resulting in him leaning against the old wood. “Mr. Seresin,” the lady beamed, checking behind her. “This is my niece, she’s helping me for the summer. She’s got a true eye for flowers.”

Jake looked back up, the lilac color of your sundress caught his attention. Oh shit. The way you smiled at his father, the sweet tone of your voice complimenting the ranch, the way you looked in the sun. His balance shifted, his shoulder losing its grip on the post and sending him straight to the ground. “That’s my son Jake,” his father sighed. You bit back a chuckle, holding your book of flowers over your lap.

Jake quickly picked himself up and dusted himself off, trying to hide the developing blush on his cheeks. “Hi,” he recovered charmingly.

“Mind showin’ our guest those flowers growin’ by the house?” John Seresin knew the look of love when he saw it. Young love made the older man smile. He saw the shy glimmer in your eye as well as his.

Jake sucked in his lips, but nodded. You followed him close by, not failing to notice how tall he was. “I’m Y/N,” you said shyly.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he returned, unconfident in his tone.

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

His head whipped over to you, his pretty green eyes widened a little at the sudden boldness. Keep it cool, keep it cool. He would be if he wasn’t tripping over his feet, all the rocks were against him. “Shit,” he coughed after almost falling.

“Are your boots too big or somethin’?” you joked, approaching the house.

The crimson on his cheeks went a shade darker. He couldn’t believe this! Tripping over some girl like he was a newborn fawn. “You’re funny,” he grimaced.

“I try,” you giggled.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence before reaching the house. Jake was the first to speak, “I think those are the flowers my dad was talking about,” he motioned toward the purple flowers lining the fence. You grinned at the pretty sight and carefully dropped to your knees to inspect them. Jkke sat beside you, careful not to crush the flowers, and leaned back against the fence.

“Lavandula augustifolia,” you mumbled to yourself, your fingers gently touching the flowers.

Jake raised an eyebrow, “What?”

You chuckled and shook your head, “English lavender,” you simplified, “it typically grows in England but Texas can get it too. It’s pretty.”

Like you, Jake smiled to himself and watched as you studied them and the ground it grew in. Jake carefully plucked one of the sprigs and held it up to you, “For you,” he offered with a shy smile, “it matches your dress.”

You took the flower and held it to your nose, your eyes never leaving the handsome boy. A warmth went through you as your fingers brushed, his were surprisingly soft and comforting. “Thank you, Jake.”

“You can take as much as you’d like.”

You shook your head and opened your book to place the stem of the flower inside for safe keeping, “That’s alright—this one’s my favorite.”

A round of lovesick awes pulled Jake from his memory, and suddenly he wasn’t at his childhood property anymore surrounded by freshly bloomed flowers. “Go back to getting drunk please,” he hummed sarcastically; he overheard Javy whisper that he’d tell them the story. “Honey,” he turned his attention to you, putting eucalyptus in your vase.

“Yes, dear,” you smiled.

“You never did tell me why that one was your favorite.” He slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

“It wasn’t obvious?”

“No?”

Well,” you sighed and leaned into him, “it’s my favorite because a handsome boy that literally fell for me gave it to me.”

The man rolled his eyes, “I didn’t fall for you,” he defended badly, clearly lying.

You reached up and kissed his cheek, “Yeah you did,” you hummed.

He held you close and kissed the top of your head, “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t, but I think Javy might.”

Their friends erupted with laughter which made Jake wince, “Fine. I did.”

#siempre buckys blurb night #top gun maverick #top gun #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #hangman fluff #jake seresin fluff

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isleoffloweruk · 1 year ago

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How To Choose The Best Flower Shops In London For Wedding Event?

Choosing the best flower shops in London for your wedding can be a daunting task, but there are several things you can consider to make the process easier:

Experience and expertise: Look for a flower shop that has experience in wedding flower arrangements. Experienced florists will be able to guide you through the selection process and create beautiful arrangements that suit your wedding theme and style.

Portfolio: Check the flower shop's portfolio to see their previous work. It will give you an idea of their style and quality of work, and whether they can create the look and feel you want for your wedding. Also, check whether they have the option of online flower delivery in the UK.

Personalization: A good flower shop will work with you to create bespoke flower arrangements that reflect your personality and style. Look for a florist who listens to your needs and ideas and offers creative suggestions to bring your vision to life.

Availability: Make sure the flower delivery in London is available on your wedding date and can provide the number of arrangements you need. It's important to book in advance to secure their services.

Price: Weddings can be expensive, so it's essential to find a flower shop that can work within your budget. However, be prepared to pay more for high-quality flowers and arrangements.

Customer service: Good customer service is crucial, especially when planning a wedding. Look for a flower shop that is responsive, reliable, and able to address any concerns or issues promptly.

Online delivery: Also make sure that the florist you choose has the facility to deliver wedding flowers in London when you choose to deliver them online.

Overall, take your time to research and visit different flower shops to find the best one that meets your needs, budget, and style. A good event florist in London can help you create beautiful arrangements that will enhance the beauty and elegance of your special day.

#online flower delivery uk #flower shops in london #wedding flowers london #flower delivery london #event florist london #pink lilac wedding flowers #wedding flowers #best office flowers #best flower delivery uk #office flowers #wedding gift flower bouquet #wedding bouquets

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dellalyra · 2 years ago

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FAMILY FORMATIONS - THE PROPOSAL

Summary: The proposal.

CW: fluffy, fem!reader, nsfw but not like badlyyyy like a lil smutty

A/N: imma do the wedding too and all of the requests but this gave me brain ro

Recommended Listening:

Wasteland, Baby! - Hozier

Bartender - Lana Del Rey

After Hours - The Weeknd

Masterlist

Satoru walks back inside the door to the cottage and closes it behind him. He had a bag of all of your favourite snacks hiding a bottle of champagne and a box with your favourite cake from the small patisserie you both loved.

He had planned this ‘stay at home date night’ down to the very last detail, even having bought a new picnic blanket. He laid everything out on the blanket outside in the middle of the garden you oh-so-carefully tended. It was your pride and joy (second to Satoru and the kids of course), so it was the ideal setting for the evening. With it being only 7pm and mid-summer, the sun was still gently shining over the scene and the air was warm and balmy – he wondered briefly if Mother Nature knew of his plans for tonight and decided to help him out by making it perfect.

He knows you’re upstairs, getting ready for your date and he swallows his nerves and takes a deep breath. He wasn’t used to being nervous, he’d never had to be before. But fuck, was he nervous now. He heard Nanami’s sharp but reassuring voice from earlier echoing in his mind.

“Of course, she’ll say yes, Gojo.”

He patted his jacket pocket to make sure the blue velvet box was still there, double checked the blanket and food and the bottle of champagne hidden in one of your flower patches (are they lilies? Lobelia? No – lilacs. Yeah, lilacs. Hey he remembered!) and then found a pebble and tossed it at your bedroom window.

“Rapunzel, rapunzel let down your hair!” He shouted upwards.

The window flung open and a true, real life princess, his princess, poked her upper body out.

“With your height, I’m sure I don’t need to, can probably just crawl in.” You joked down at him.

He then sees you disappear and seconds later you appear at the back door, and god you were perfect.

Wearing a floral sundress, with a corset style top and falling just below your knees – the white dress was covered in tiny pink delicate flowers and Jesus did it fit you just right. As you strolled toward him, checking your flowers along the way – he noticed the swell of your breasts as they fell from the top of your dress and the slope of your neck, your hips swaying with the dress and the curve of your ass accented by the corset top of the dress when you bent to pick a rose. He shook his head; he’d entertain those thoughts and the tightness of the front of his trousers later on – fuck, he wanted to cage you and that delectable fucking body underneath him and make you squirm.

You smile as you reach him and he notices, as usual, you’re barefoot. The evening sun is illuminating how unbelievably bright you are and for a moment his breath is stolen from a chest because you have to be an angel to glow that much, surely?

You lean on your toes, kissing him on the cheek.

“Hi, ‘toru.”

“Hi princess. Take a seat.” He says as he gestures behind him.

You gasp in shock at the spread in front of you. All your favourites, strawberries, jam tarts, fairy cakes, some cheeses and cured meats and ooh the white chocolate and cherry cake you love along with a big jug of pink lemonade.

“Oh my god ‘toru! What’s all this for?! What’s the occasion?” You squeal, excitedly plopping down on the blanket and looking at everything.

“What? Can’t I just spoil my pretty princess for no reason?” He smirks, taking his spot beside you and popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“You always spoil me ‘toru, but this is extra spoiling!” You giggle, gripping his jaw to turn him to you so you can kiss his strawberry stained lips. He looked so fucking handsome shining under the sun, surrounded by colours and flowers and he was just so breathtakingly beautiful you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. His jacket was beside him, and the short sleeved white button down was unbuttoned a few buttons at the neck exposing the milky expanse of his chest and collarbone, and you spotted a dribble of lemonade making it’s way down the column of his throat and you just couldn’t help yourself – so you leaned in and kitten licked the droplet away, eyes coy looking at him through those fluttery lashes.

He couldn’t give in yet, even though he was sure he was tenting his trousers by now – he had to do this now, the timing was far too perfect.

This was exactly what was planned, not by him, but by you. 6 years ago, sipping vodka lemonades on the moonlit roof with all four of you together – long, semi tipsy conversations about hopes and dreams being shared with giggles and far-in-the-future promises. You had said as Geto asked (with a sly wink towards Satoru) how you’d want to be proposed to. Only just in your second year, you and him had been pining for each other for a year – but were still nothing but best friends. You’d talked about how you wouldn’t want anything over the top, no photographer or audience (you fake gagged at this), just you and whoever (in your head, it was Satoru), you’d want to be outside, isolated, you’d want a unique ring, nothing outlandish or gaudy and you didn’t want overdrawn, long winded speeches or declarations of love – just the simple question. That was your dream proposal, and he memorised the details right there and then – determined to be the one who made it reality.

After 20 minutes of snacking and chatting away and giggling about everything and nothing, you started telling him about your plans for your butterfly garden at the back corner, and the moment came as you turned to look in that direction and he knew in that moment that you were everything and more to him, alight with happiness and passion.

He softly said your name, then poked you in the ribs.

You turned to poke him back but froze.

He was leaning toward you, broad shoulders turned to you and celestial eyes staring into your very soul and in those long, elegant, powerful hands was a tiny open blue velvet box, the gold clasp sat atop the lid. On a matching cushion inside it – sat the most beautiful piece of jewellery you had ever seen, like something from a magic fairytale. Tiny filigree gold housed a shiny marquise diamond and two dainty sapphires on either side.

You froze and sucked in air in shock.

You looked up to his eyes again, seeing nothing but sheer love, sincerity and pure adoration reflected back at you.

“Marry me?” He said, boyish smile lighting up his face at your reaction.

You shook out a breath, you didn’t need a second to think so you just lunged at him and wrapped your hands around his smooth cheeks and crashed your lips into his, you felt his arms around your waist pulling you onto his lap and you couldn’t pull yourself away, tears beginning to wet your cheeks.

He pulls away first, hand firm on your waist.

“Is that a yes, then?” He smirked, very proud of himself.

“It’s infinite yes’s, ‘toru. It’s yes in every universe, yes forever.” You giggle out through tears, peppering his face with tiny kisses.

He grabs your hand and then slides the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit. Was that why Shoko insisted on borrowing some of your jewellery last weekend?

He smiles up at you, bright and blinding.

He cradles your face in his hands.

“My beautiful, incredible, amazing, sexy princess, my angel forest fairy – I can’t wait to call you my pretty little wife.” He says, pressing kisses into your neck and sucking marks into your exposed décolletage.

“I can’t wait to introduce you as my devilishly handsome, kind and loving husband Satoru.” You reply, hands gripping his hair and pulling slightly, making him growl into your chest. His hands grow firmer on your hips and your centre is guided to move along his solid length beneath you.

“Fuck, my little wife, so fucking pretty. God, and you’re all mine.”

“All yours, ‘toru, and I always have been. Aa-ah, fuck baby, more – please, upstairs.” You whimper, breathless and full of love.

At that, he scoops you up bridal style and begins to stride back to the house, stopping to tell you to reach into you lilac bush, you pull out a bottle of champagne and throw your head back laughing at him, to which he just lets out a chuckle and a cheeky smirk takes over his face.

“It’s hydration, gotta practise for our wedding night, the house is all ours and I’m not letting my fiancée leave the bed for at least two days.”

#gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #gojo smut #pixie writes: family formations #family formations drabbles

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dragoncxv360 · 2 years ago

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My second colouring page for @maudiemoods dca colouring book. Didn’t think I’d get it done in time ‘cause my mood was wonky and I have surgery in a week but I did it! I’m super happy with how this came out, it looks so cute!

[Image ID: a digital drawing of Sundrop and Moondrop from fnaf. Both are organic instead of robots.

Sundrop is pregnant and wearing a long sleeve red sweater with a high collar and a dull greyish brown see through skirt with black flowers on it in a pattern. On Sundrop's right hand (left hand for the viewer) is a gold wedding ring. She is also wearing a silver, cresent moon shaped necklace. Sundrop's eyes are pale purple and her eyeshadow is a slightly darker purple. There are small eyebags under her eyes. Her face is pale yellow on one side and pale orange on the other side. Her hands are pale yellow and grey. She has large medium pinkish orange cheeks. Her face is framed by petal like rays which are a medium orange at the base and a pale orange at the tip (in a gradiant).

Moondrop is wearing a baggy lilac sweater with a wide collar, baggy white pants with light blue stars on them, and a medium blue hat with white stars on it and a white rim and white puff ball on the end of it. On Moondrop's right hand (left hand for the viewer) is a gold ring which matches Sundrop's. His face is a very pale grey on one side and dark purple on the other side. His hands are very pale grey and light purple. One of his eyes is open and is a pale yellow. That same eye has medium yellow eyeshadow. There are dark eyebags under his eye. His other eye has 3 long scars over it and is shut.

Sundrop is drawn in a 3 quarter view holding a daisy in one hand and reaching back to cup Moondrop's cheek in the other hand. She has her head turned to the viewer's left, looking at Moondrop with a small smile on her face which shows her teeth. Moondrop is standing behind her with his head resting against her hand. He is hugging her from behind with both his hands on her belly and he is looking up at her with a small closed mouth smile on his face.

In the first picture they are both surounded by leaves and the sky is blue with some white clouds. There is faint yellow beams of light shining down on them. In the second picture the background is a medium pink and there is no added lighting. End ID]

I hope I did that ID right

Some fun facts under the cut:

Their wedding rings are on their right hands ‘cause I messed up in the sketch (I have a hard time telling left from right :P) and I decided to keep it ‘cause I liked it better and sometimes gay couples wear their rings on their right hands.

The moon necklace Sundrop is wearing has a matching sun necklace that fits inside it that Moondrop wears. This was an idea I had back in 2019 or 2020 actually for my ocs Pinky and Luca, but it eventually got scrapped when i rewrote the story for the millionth time.

Sundrop and Moondrop are lesbians in this (Sundrop is an nonbinary gal and goes by she/they, Moondrop is intersex and agender and goes by he/they/she/it)

Sundrop and Moondrop are also dating Eclipse and Nova and they are one big gay disaster polycule XD

But yeah, I’m super super happy with this and I genuinely felt like I was gonna cry tears of joy when i finished it ‘cause looking at it makes me so happy

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jakkon-and-rose-topic · 9 months ago

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History

Rose sighed as she collapsed onto the mattress, dropping an unconscious Jakkon beside her, his head resting against her shoulder. She glanced sidelong at her brother-in-law, clearing some of his dark uncared-for curls out of his face as bitter thoughts of how things used to be crossed her mind.

Eveny holding them apart when they got into arguments. Eveny's nervous words to Rose about her wedding, the smile of a man in love Jakkon used to have before the love of his life had crumbled to ash at his fingertips. The way he had smiled and laughed with Eveny, their hands intertwined as they sat together on the front step. The way he'd comforted Rose about her husband. The way he'd played music for their family on nights when the sky cleared of clouds. The way he used to smile, the pink petals of Eveny's Love-lorn flowers decorating his clothes.

Rose had never wanted anything more than she wanted that back. The past she couldn't have. The ability to see her sister again. The ability to see Jakkon smile again. He used to laugh, to carry his son on his shoulders while singing songs. The way he would decorate his Horns in flowers and pretend to be part of their family. The way he would look at Eveny when he didn't think she saw him.

Everything. But that had all been lost in the fire that burnt away not only his wife, but his voice and his hope. He'd tried to be strong before grasping hands had stolen him away and forced him into months of work.

He had come back frail and terrified, paranoid and bitter, sick and hollow, holding his organs inside his body with just his hands and a faint hope of seeing Rose again. She had saved him. But it wasn't him anymore. Not the loving man she knew. Not the Jakkon who laughed and teased her with every word he could. Not the Jakkon who held people close and sang songs when they trembled in fear of the dark.

This Jakkon woke up screaming in the middle of the night, disappeared every other day, collapsed shivering at the mere sight of a Lilac. Eveny's flower. Just like the Rose was hers. A man who stayed up nights on end just to drink himself away from consciousness.

But despite everything, he still clung to Rose, his standing flower in a world of wilted ash. And she still clung to him, the only steady ground in a world of gravel. She needed him, and he needed her more than ever. Though bitter words and angry memories cut deep through them both, they still held on, knives in each other's flesh as the only leverage in a world that had torn them from grace.

(First Draft written in 15 minutes please don't judge too harshly)

#creative writing #writer things #writing community #fiction writing #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #whumplr #whumpee and caretaker #whump #whump writing #whump community #whumpee

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 2 years ago

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Just for the Weekend 8/10

Summary: You and Jason go to a wedding.

Pairs: Reader x Jason Todd

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Fluff, swearing.

Part 7

Jason and yourself take your seats to the left of the makeshift altar. Your eyes sweep over the large garden adorned in even more flowers, twinkling lights and golden ribbons than you knew possible. The afternoon sun streams through the palm trees that Jamie and Sunny have chosen for their backdrop and as the western wind blows through you can almost feel the magic in the air. Weddings are always like this, you think, full of magic and love.

Jason's arm rests naturally around the back of your chair. Your brain is still going over the last few minutes, the kiss, the casual way he held your hand as you walked down to the garden. It's a lot to process, but you don’t want to ruin it by talking about it or over thinking. So instead you clasp your hands together and wish that the weekend would never end.

The chatter of the other guests quiets down as the celebrant announces that the bride will be arriving soon. Jamie spots you in the crowd, looking so happy in the dress they’ve chosen, the dark, deep forest green almost black against the sun, the crisp white shoes peeking from underneath. You give them a big thumbs up, noticing the tears already forming in their eyes as the pianist starts to play a slower version of "this is what dreams are made of".

The bridesmaids all look lovely in their soft lilac gowns of all different styles, the large sunflower bouquets with colourful wildflowers woven through, they look like a trail of beautiful fairies. The pianist rounds the chorus and you start to weep at the sight of Sunny. Her golden dress glitters with every step she takes, a large pointed tiara on her head, her hair held in soft waves behind her, she looks every bit the fairy queen of the procession. Peering back at Jamie you see they're full on crying at how etheral Sunny is.

"Here," Jason says, pulling out his pocket square and handing it to you, "don't want to ruin the makeup."

You give him a small smile, dabbing under your eyes and taking his hand in your free one, giving him a little squeeze, "Thanks for coming," you whisper.

Leaning over to press a kiss into your hair he whispers, "best decision of my life."

The ceremony is short, Jamie and Sunny exchange vows and suddenly they're walking down the aisle and inviting everyone to cocktail hour while they have their pictures taken.

"I'm just going to go touch up my face," you excuse yourself, "will you be ok by yourself?" finding yourself in need of a minute to compose yourself. You have so many questions for him, for yourself. At the very least you need to wipe the dopey ass smile from your face. You can’t seem to shake it, can’t stop hearing those words he whispered in your ear.

"Yeah, I'll go find Margie. She was great. Wait," he says as you start to walk off. "I forgot," he kisses you, a short simple peck on the lips but it makes your tummy do somersaults.

Jason spots Margie almost immediately, her bright pink suit giving her away almost as much as her height. She's at a table alone, drinking what looks to be sangria, "bit sad to drink alone at a wedding don't you think?" He asks, taking the seat opposite her.

"On the contrary, keeps me out of trouble." She smirks, downing the whole glass and pouring herself and Jason another. "Drink with me then, tell me about how you managed to sweep my little dear off her feet."

"I was actually wondering if I could ask you something," he takes a drink and relishes the sweetness.

"Want more stories about her rambunctious youth?"

"I would like to know what he, Jonathan, said to her last night,"

"Want to go hit him yourself?"

"Something like that,"

"No need for that, she defended you well."

"What?"

"She didn't tell you? Oh, he was saying terrible things, but our little spitfire wasn't having it."

"Wait what?" He can't seem to wrap his head around it. You hit…you hit the guy because of him?

"Poor dear, she lets him say the worst things about her, but the second he started on you," She pauses, "well you saw what happened."

"I thought she- that he-"

"She really loves you, ya know, I can see it in the way she looks at you."

"I- "

"You're very lucky, she's a special kind of woman."

"That I do know," he agrees, finally hearing something that doesn't sound insane. Why would you do that?

"Now be a good lad and go get me more sangria."

"Yes ma'am."

Jason's mind spins as he goes over what he just heard. So you did it to defend him and not yourself. He can barely believe that anyone would care, but then she said… was it true? Did you love him? Until yesterday you could barely stand to be in the room with him.

Then there was the kiss, that kiss on the balcony that made his stomach spin and his knees go weak. And the little kiss before, he can barely believe this is happening. He's not going to screw this up. He can't. Shit, after a few kisses he doesn't think he can go a day without feeling your lips on his ever again.

"Hello there handsome," you say, grabbing the glasses from the bar, "Margie already got you doing her evil bidding I see,"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" He answers, looking at you kind of weird, in a good way. Like he's got stars on his eyes.

"Sangria, always was her drink of choice."

Xxx

"Can you see my name?" You say as you peer at the seating chart.

"Yeah, right here. It says second prettiest woman at the wedding,"

"Second?"

"Well, the bride obviously has to be first," he jokes.

"Thin ice, Todd. You're on thin ice," you playfully glare at him. His hand falls to your lower back as you walk to your table. You try not to think about how right this feels, how perfect he feels beside you. Instead zoning in on the small table which is obviously designated as the old school friends table. You thank Batman that Jonathan was sent home, you do not want to deal with him.

"Can I ask a favour?" Claire says as she sits down next to you, "just while Lizzie is fixing her hair?"

"Depends on the favour," you can see Jason from the corner of your eye peering around you. Is he worried that maybe this will be round two? Sure, you were a bit envious, or a lot. But you had never felt the urge to hit her. The issues you have with Claire have nothing to do with her and everything to do with you and your own expectations.

"Could you sign this for me?" She pulls out from her purse a copy of your first book, "I've been meaning to ask for ages. But we just never seem to bump into each other."

"I didn't know you read my book,"

"I tried, but romance really isn't for me. Lizzie though, she loves them and it would really mean alot-"

"Give it here, have you got a pen?"

"Yeah," she hands you a golden marker from her purse, "I know it's not a great time to ask, but I really appreciate it. She’s going to be thrilled."

"It's really no trouble, " you smile signing the interior cover, "Dear Liz, I hope Claire brings you as much joy as Red brought me,"

"Thank you, she's really going to love this," she grins like a kid in a candy store. "It really means a lot,"

"You're welcome," you beam back. Never in a million years would you have imagined that Liz of all people would be a fan. She's never said anything, though you suppose with avoiding them at all costs you probably didn't deserve to know. A nudge on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts, "yes?" You turn to Jason who's just looking at you with confusion and wonder, "why are you looking at me like that?”

"Red? I thought your first book was about Finnley and Felix? "

"How do you know that?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"I told you, I dabbled. I may have read one or two of your books, "

"One or two? But you know the names of the two love interests by heart?"

"Maybe, I read them more than once,"

"You did not,"

"Enough about me," Jason attempts to change the subject. You did not need to know that he had read all your works, except one apparently, "Who's this Red? And how is there a book before The Prince Problem?"

"Oh, that's the official first. But The Red Viper is my first unofficial book. I published it myself in college under a pseudonym. I just wanted to see how it would go. It sold pretty well, I just didn't think any of my friends aside from Jamie had read it."

"Then how did she know it was you?"

"Easy, I released free coupons for copies in my newsletter a few years ago, Liz must be on my mailing list.”

“Free?”

“Yeah, I do that sometimes. There’s no point charging for something like that."

"A huh, and has Dick read this book?"

"Jason, are you telling me you think Dick can read?"

"Good point,"

The night drifts on, speeches are told, cakes cut and dinner eaten. All the while Jason sits close, both of you touching, your knees, your hands, your shoulders, always touching. It's easy and it doesn't even feel fake anymore. Not that it ever really did to you.

The band picks up after the newlyweds first dance and the lead singer invites everyone to the dance floor. You feel reluctant, but with how pleasant the conversation has been between Claire, Liz, Jason and yourself, your mood has gone from nervous to joyful.

The band starts to play your favourite song and you find yourself tugging Jason onto the dance floor behind you.

He's certainly not his brother when it comes to dancing, but he manages to keep up with you. His hand never leaving your waist as you move to the music together. “What kind of move do you call that?” you ask when he starts twirling his arms around.

“Whirlybird?’ he laughs back, grabbing your arms and spinning them above your head, “Might not look cool, but it’s fun,”

His hands slide down your arms, taking your wrists and wrapping them around his neck as you stay to sway together.

“You know you’re a lot more fun,” you start when he spins you under his arm, “when you don’t spend your days glaring at me,”

“And you’re more fun when you don’t run away from every room I enter,”

“I never did that,” he stares down at you, “ok, maybe once or twice,” he raises his eyebrows, “Or a few times,” you press your hand on his chest, “in my defense, you did stare at me like I was robbing you.”

“You were,”

“I was not trying to steal your brother,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh love,” he brushes his nose against yours, “You were stealing something much more valuable than my big brother,”

“Oh yeah like what?” you tease, “Your bike?”

“Sweetheart,” he leans down, “You wouldn’t be fast enough to take her,” his breath in your ear, “And you still don’t know how to ride,”

“Fair. Maybe I can get Dick to teach me when I get home?” the choking noise that comes from Jason's throat makes you snort, “What? He’s been asking for ages,” you wink coyly, drawing yourself from his hands and giggling when he turns you back in.

“Let me teach you,” his hand slides up from your back, his fingers brushing up the back of your neck,

“You going to glare at me while you do it?”

“Only if you run away,”

“Will you chase me?”

“Would you like me to chase you?” his fingers push into the soft skin of your neck tilting your head up.

“Maybe,” you reach up onto your tiptoes, grinning from ear to ear, your lips touching his. His hand grows firmer on your neck, deepening your kiss, you wrap your arms tight around his back.

“That a shiver there love?” he laughs into your kiss, his other arm wraps around your waist, “Do it again,” he hoists you up, your feet dangling above the floor as he kisses you again.

The night gets later and despite how drunk everyone around you seems to be getting, you and Jason are too busy enjoying yourselves on the dance floor to have the time. "Last song," the singer announces, "how about something a bit slower?"

The band starts out slow and you hear the man's voice lower as he starts to sing Adele's make you feel my love.

Jason pulls you close, his hand holding tight on your waist, bringing yours up to his shoulder, "wanna see what Alfie taught me?" He winks and you give him a small nod, "follow my lead,"

He steps back, gliding you along the dance floor, his eyes never leaving yours and a bright smile on his lips. The hot and horny feelings leave you as you feel something deeper and stronger pulling at your chest. Like a string being tugged from your heart and wrapping around where your hands meet, connecting you both together. The world melts away as you get lost in his eyes and the feel of his strong hand on your back.

“Spin,” he says, stretching your arm out as the song reaches it crescendo and you spin out, your dress fanning out around you and when your back in his arms he drops you into a deep dip, his large hand on your thigh, his full form leaning over to meet your lips, his tongue dives into your mouth and you think you might just feel whole for the first time in your life.

Part 8:

AN: Last update for a bit. I'm off to Sydney to hang out with my fam.

Taglist:

@goblinhobo @bubbles-incorrect-yb @hungry-hungarian @megumisbabymomma @ilikw @gone-batty-fics

#reader x jason todd #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #x reader #jason todd #reader x red hood #red hood x reader

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