#shes inviting me to celebrate our friend getting married

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

𝗜 𝗪𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗚𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗨𝗽 𝗺𝘆 𝗣𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗦𝗶𝗱𝗲 (𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟭)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not Proofread.

Story Summary: Drake and Galileo suddenly switched bodies. Seeing Galileo pretend to be him and interact with Mitsuki at the party, Drake felt a pang of jealousy.

(Drake's POV)

That day, I was in a better mood than usual as I headed home with a bottle of wine in hand.

Drake: "Wait, Galileo? You're back early today."

Galileo, who had been reading a book on the sofa, looked up at my voice.

Galileo: "The conference is over. I'm done with my university work for now."

Drake: "I see. Then how about having a drink for a change?"

I shook the wine bottle, but Galileo simply set his book aside and frowned.

Galileo: "I refuse. I'm not bored enough to start drinking at this hour."

(Man, so uptight.)

I shrugged, and right then, the door swung open, and Mitsuki walked in holding a shopping basket.

Mitsuki: "You're both home early today."

Drake: "Oh, hey, little fawn! Were you out shopping? Thanks, as always."

Galileo: "You're back. In that case, I'll be returning to my room. I'll leave him to you."

Galileo quickly stood up and disappeared into his room.

Mitsuki: "Drake, did you do something to Galileo?"

Drake: "I didn't do anything. I just invited him for a drink."

Drake: "Well, he turned me down, though. So, how about keeping me company instead, little fawn?"

I pulled Mitsuki close and quickly stole a kiss.

Mitsuki: "Mmh...!"

I pulled away, and Mitsuki glared at me.

Mitsuki: "Geez, you always do that so suddenly."

Drake: "Haha, sorry, sorry. Pirates have a habit of taking what they want right away."

Mitsuki: "Hehe, that's our captain for you."

Mitsuki let out a small laugh, tilting her head slightly as she looked at me.

Mitsuki: "Drake, did something good happen today?"

I couldn't help but smile at her sharp intuition.

Drake: "Yeah. Actually, one of my sailor friends told me he's getting married."

Mitsuki's face lit up instantly after hearing my words.

Mitsuki: "A wedding? Wow, that's wonderful!"

Drake: "Right? We all got excited and ended up drinking together."

Drake: "Nothing beats a drink shared in celebration, so I wanted to share a bit of that joy with you."

Mitsuki: "Hehe, thanks. Just hearing such happy news makes me happy, too."

I instinctively tightened my arms around her, seeing her smile so brightly.

(Seriously, how can she be this cute?)

Drake: "Hey, can I kiss you again?"

Mitsuki: "I thought pirates take what they want?"

Drake: "Correct."

Lifting her blushing face gently, I pressed my lips to hers, and she surrendered to the kiss.

As I held her close, savoring the moment, a memory from the tavern resurfaced in my mind.

Drake: "Oh, by the way, there's a wedding party in three days."

Drake: "Will you come with me, Mitsuki?"

Mitsuki: "Me? I'd love to, but are you sure it's okay?"

Drake: "Of course."

Drake: "The more the merrier! Also, everyone's bringing their partner."

Drake: "I've already bragged about you, so there's no way I'd show up without you."

Mitsuki: "Well, if that's the case, I'd love to go."

Mitsuki nodded happily but suddenly blinked as if she had noticed something.

Drake: "What's wrong?"

Mitsuki: "I'm not sure. I thought I saw something shine in the corner of the room just now."

Tilting her head slightly, Mitsuki walked over to the shelf by the wall.

Mitsuki: "Oh, it was just a small bottle reflecting the light."

Mitsuki: "But was there always a bottle here?"

Drake: "Yeah, I found that the other day in the Seine River."

I casually picked up the small bottle from the shelf.

The lid was sealed tight, and strange symbols were etched around the bottle's neck.

Drake: "It caught my eye when it glimmered, so I picked it up."

Drake: "But no matter how much I shake it, there's no sound. Still, for some reason, I couldn't just leave it there."

Drake: "So I brought it home and put it here as decoration."

Mitsuki: "It really does have a weird shape."

She leaned in, studying the symbols on the bottle with curiosity.

Mitsuki: "Hey, do you think these might be letters?"

Drake: "Huh, now that you mention it, yeah. Never seen this language before, though. Maybe we should ask Professor Galileo later."

Galileo: "Did someone call for me?"

We turned around and saw Galileo picking up a book from the desk.

Looks like he just came back to grab a book he left behind.

Galileo: "Have you sobered up a little?"

Drake: "I was never drunk to begin with. Wine's no different from water to me."

Galileo: "I can't relate to that."

Drake: "Well, you've never been good with alcohol. If you had my body, you could drink as much as you wanted."

Galileo: "Drink as much as I want, huh? I guess I've been kinda curious about that."

Drake: "Right? Hey, wanna swap bodies for a bit?"

I laughed, joking around, but Galileo only gave me an exasperated look.

Galileo: "Ridiculous. There's no way body-swapping is possible."

Drake: "Don't be so quick to dismiss it. You never know—maybe there's a way."

Drake: "If you want, we could try making a wish."

Galileo: "Absurd. Swapping bodies and minds is the height of unscientific nonsense."

Mitsuki: "Hehe."

Mitsuki giggled as she listened to our exchange.

Mitsuki: "You two are completely in sync. You and Galileo are total opposites, but you get along so well."

Drake: "Hear that?"

Galileo: "Haah. Say whatever you like."

Just as my laughter overlapped Galileo's sigh, a sudden burst of bright light filled the room.

At the same time, I thought I heard a quiet, childlike giggle.

(Did I just hear a kid's voice? But more importantly, what was that light?)

Mitsuki: "It looked like a white light just surrounded you two. Are you guys okay?"

Mitsuki's confused voice sounded farther away than before.

Drake?: "Yeah, I'm fine."

(Wait, is that what Galileo's voice sounded like? No, that just now sounded more like—)

I opened my eyes and instantly froze.

Drake?: "…….."

Galileo?: "ME!?"

The "me" standing in front of me had Galileo's usual sharp gaze.

(Hold on. If "I" am right there, and he's looking at me, then—)

(No way. Did that stupid joke actually come true?!)

Drake: "Oi. Did we just switch bodies?!"

Galileo: "That's impossible."

Mitsuki: "D-Drake? You're talking kind of like Galileo?"

Drake: "Not kind of. That is Galileo, lil' fawn."

Mitsuki: "What? WHAT!?"

(Well, yeah, of course she's confused. From her perspective, Galileo was the one who just spoke.)

Drake: "Hahaha! This is messed up."

As I started laughing at the absurdity of the situation, the Galileo in front of me—who was actually me—looked pale.

Galileo: "Unbelievable, but it appears that Drake and I have somehow switched bodies."

Drake: "Yep, pretty much."

Mitsuki's eyes widened to the point where they might pop out as she looked back and forth between us.

Mitsuki: "Swapped bodies? There's no way!"

Mitsuki: "But if this were just Drake joking around, Galileo would never play along."

Drake: "What's that supposed to mean? Fine, whatever. So, what do we do about this?"

Galileo: "For now, we'll observe the situation."

Galileo looked deep in thought, his brows furrowed in frustration.

Galileo: "Fortunately, the academic conference just ended. I'll simply cancel my lectures and take a sick leave."

Drake: "Well, my job is just steering a boat, so you could handle it."

Galileo: "I refuse to act like you, Drake."

Drake: "Figured as much. Guess I'll take a break from work too, then."

And that's when it hit me.

(Crap! The wedding party is in three days!)

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Premium ╎ Epilogue

[its-cartooncrazy]

How do I tell an old friend that I'm like. Not pleasant to hang out with rn...

[emometalhead]

A very near and dear family friend is getting married next year, and we just got the wedding invitation!! 🥰😁🎉

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid - Part 2

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4705

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: Thank you so much for the response to part 1! And thank you to everyone who was so patient and understanding for this part taking a while to write. I hope you all like it.

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Wanda seems to be in a better mood lately, Natasha notices, probably because the two of you rekindled whatever complicated romance you had going on. And as sad and lonely as it had made Natasha feel, at least Wanda was being less rude to her, and that would always be a win in her book.

The grocery trips and errands she sends Natasha on are less demanding, although Natasha’s unsure if she’s becoming more comfortable or Wanda’s gotten less picky. Wanda still requests Natasha’s help for her weekly meetings, and Natasha cannot understand why someone who is unemployed goes so out of her way to find the most mundane, meaningless things to participate in. But it keeps Natasha paid and busy, and she still gets to see you a few times a week.

“What are you doing this weekend, Natasha?” Wanda asks while the two of them are in the kitchen. Wanda is on her laptop while Natasha stands at the counter, cutting vegetables for dinner.

“Um…” Natasha knows better than to tell Wanda the truth, which is that she’ll be sitting alone in her apartment for the next two days and eating ice cream on her couch. “Some friends invited me to go shopping with them at the mall,” she lies. She doesn’t have friends and she certainly doesn’t have the budget to shop at a mall after all the debt she still owes.

“I’ll be gone all weekend with some girlfriends,” Wanda says, not even acknowledging Natasha’s plans, which makes her wonder why she had even bothered to ask in the first place. “I’m not into wine tasting much, but the girls go nuts for it. I’m just going for the spa at the resort, between you and me.”

Natasha has no idea what to do with this information. But she’s spared from answering when the garage door rumbles open.

Wanda slams her laptop shut. “Oh, Y/N is home early.” She gets up to greet you. Natasha can hear your voices carry through the hall.

“You’re early tonight,” Wanda says. “I was just telling Natasha about my weekend plans to Vermont with the girls–”

“Your weekend plans?” you interrupt. “Since when did you have plans to go to Vermont?” Natasha has never heard you sound genuinely angry before. She stops cutting the carrots to focus on eavesdropping.

“Carol wanted to go for her birthday!” your wife says.

“Wanda,” you say, your voice lowering. “Our anniversary is this weekend. I booked us a stay at the Ritz and got us tickets to see Wicked–”

“Well, just ask for a refund!” Wanda hisses. Natasha is stunned that this is her first response to forgetting about her entire anniversary with you. “And we can celebrate when I get back–”

“‘Get back?’” you repeat. “That’s not the point, Wanda. Why don’t you ask for a refund for your trip–”

“I can’t do that to the girls,” Wanda says. “Carol’s been looking forward to this for months!”

You mumble something that Natasha can’t hear. She feels awful for you. Clearly, you had spent a lot of money and time planning a nice outing, and your wife didn’t seem to care one bit. In fact, she tried to put the blame on you for intruding on her plans. Natasha felt herself shaking with rage for you. You deserved so much better.

The two of you trudge into the kitchen and Natasha hastily goes back to cutting the carrots. Wanda is hanging onto your arm, tiptoeing to whisper into your ear but you shake her off and walk through the kitchen to the staircase. Natasha knows that Wanda is glaring at the back of her head, probably upset that she had overheard, but for once she doesn’t say anything and disappears after you.

The mood is particularly subdued when Natasha serves up roasted salmon with a colorful vegetable medley and mashed potatoes. 

“Thank you, Natasha,” you say as she hands you a loaded plate. 

Wanda doesn’t say anything when Natasha gives her a plate.

While the two of you eat in awkward silence, Natasha cleans up the kitchen, her final task of the day. She grabs her purse and heads towards the door, when she hears footsteps behind her.

It’s you.

“Can I walk you out to your car?” you ask. “I know it’s a safe neighborhood, but I don’t want you walking out in the dark by yourself.”

Natasha is so flattered by your offer she doesn’t stop to consider how Wanda might feel about this.

“Sure, I really appreciate that. Thank you.” She leads the way out of your house.

“Sorry you always have to park around the corner,” you add, maintaining a respectful distance from her on the sidewalk. “I’ve told Wanda the whole neighborhood knows you work for us. But she’s…” you trail off, clearly not wanting to speak ill of your wife.

“I’m sorry she forgot your anniversary,” Natasha blurts out. 

You seem startled that Natasha had been eavesdropping, but quickly recover. “Well, it’s…it’s not the first time she’s done it,” you admit in a soft voice. “I don’t know why I bother trying to do anything special anymore. It’s just another day to her. And it seems like she’d rather spend it with anyone but me.”

“She’s missing out,” Natasha says, surprised by her own confidence. “You’re a wonderful person and you deserve someone who will appreciate the efforts you go to celebrate important milestones like that.” She stops before she can offer herself up.

“Oh. Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.” 

The two of you stop at Natasha’s beat-up Nissan. 

“Thanks for walking me to my car–” she starts.

“Are you busy this weekend?” you ask suddenly, in a rushed whisper as if Wanda is around the corner listening. “If you’re not, would you like to see Wicked with me at the Gershwin Theater? I told Wanda I could probably get a credit with the Ritz, but I don’t want to deal with the hassle of exchanging the tickets, too. You can come over Saturday night and I’ll drive us?”

Natasha is so shocked by your proposal she doesn’t even have the words to agree at first. Growing up, she had loved watching musical movies until the VHS tapes wore out, but she had never had the opportunity to see a live performance. Even now as an adult, she still didn’t have the time nor the budget to see a show. To hear you ask that you wanted her to join you, when you had bought the tickets for you and your wife to enjoy on your anniversary she had forgotten, sounded almost too good to be true.

But if Wanda found out you had taken Natasha instead of her…Natasha shuddered at the thought. Maybe this was stepping over the line of professionalism. Natasha wanted to keep her job (and her head), and as much as the opportunity was a dream come true for her, she didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness or weakness.

“Um, I’m supposed to go shopping at the mall with some friends on Saturday,” Natasha says, cringing at the patheticness of her life. “But really–thank you for inviting me. I’m sure you have friends you’d rather take over your maid.”

“I don’t have any friends,” you say, so deadpan that Natasha almost laughs but quickly turns it into a cough when she realizes you’re being serious. While you seemed more reserved than your wife, Natasha refused to believe you didn’t have a strong social network. You were in charge of your own company and clearly doing well if you lived in this neighborhood and could afford a personal housemaid like her.

“Good evening!” The two of you startle when a cheery voice comes out of nowhere.

“Hello, Mr. Vision,” Natasha says, spotting the eccentric man first as he walks by at a rapid pace.

“Late night walk, Vis?” you call out, and he nods with a wave, pumping his arms faster and milling away. The only thing Natasha knew about Vision was that he lived by himself at the end of the street. He had no wife or kids that she knew of, not even a job as he was constantly seen walking around the neighborhood at odd hours. But he never approached Natasha or made her feel uncomfortable, which was more than she could say for most of the people living here, so she was happy to ignore him.

When Vision moves out of sight, you say, “Well, if your plans happen to change…” You fumble in your pockets awkwardly, pulling out a bent business card and handing it to Natasha. “My cell number is on there. Text me before Saturday if you’re still interested.”  

“Okay.” Natasha doesn’t want to get your hopes (or hers) up, but she still isn’t convinced this is a good idea. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Natasha.”

She loves the way her name sounds coming out of your mouth.

***********************************************************************

Natasha is still unsure she made the right decision to turn down your offer to see Wicked. She even called her only friend, Clint, to ask if she should’ve said yes.

“Well, you’re just seeing a show together. Think of it like a work bonus or something. Bosses give their employees nice stuff like that all the time,” Clint says as Natasha picks at a box of takeout in front of the television. Cooking at home was not her favorite chore after doing it all day for her clients.

“Yes, but it’s just the two of us,” Natasha stresses. “Y/N got the tickets to celebrate an anniversary and Wanda already hates me as it is–”

“Nah, she doesn’t hate you,” Clint says.

“You haven’t met her! You don’t see the way she treats me.”

“Exactly. Maybe this is Y/N’s way of apologizing for her behavior,” Clint says.

“I don’t know…” It was already Friday night. Natasha didn’t have much time now to change her mind if she was going to.

“Be nice to yourself, Nat. Let someone do something for you,” Clint goes on. “You work so hard for these people all the time. And I know how much you’ve always wanted to see a live performance.” Natasha feels tears well up in her eyes. She wishes Clint was here in person so she could give him a hug. “Nothing bad will happen. Just tell Y/N you want to go before someone else takes your spot.”

Natasha takes a steely breath. Clint is right. It wasn’t a date. It just was her nice boss treating her out to a Broadway show. Never mind the fact that you had intended to take your wife initially. Wanda would never have to know, right?

“Okay. Thanks, Clint.”

“Enjoy!”

As soon as she hangs up, Natasha goes into her texts. She already created a contact for you the night you gave her your business card. Her anxiety is through the roof as she types out a message to you, then deletes it and starts over. She gets more and more frustrated trying to find the right words, before she finally throws in the towel and clicks “Send.”

Less than a minute later, you respond.

Happiness explodes inside of Natasha. She can hardly believe her luck. Not only does she get to see her first Broadway show, but she gets to see it with you, and have dinner on top of it. She darts over to her closet, looking for the nicest dress she owns.

Wanda be damned. Natasha was going to have a great night with you. 

***********************************************************************

“Table for two, please.”

“Did you have a reservation?” the blonde woman at the podium asks.

“No,” you respond.

“Oh, well, I’m so sorry, but we’re all booked out for the evening,” she apologizes. 

Natasha stands behind you meekly. She can’t even pronounce the name of the restaurant and doesn’t know what kind of food they serve, but it’s probably far beyond anything she could ever afford. She’s wearing a dark green dress that almost reaches her ankles and is conservative in protecting her assets, and spent over an hour doing her makeup, and she wonders if strangers will look at the two of you and assume you’re a couple. She wouldn’t go out of her way to correct them.   

“That’s okay. This was a last-minute plan for us,” you explain. “If Tony is working tonight, can you please tell him Y/N stopped by to say hello?”

“Wait, you know Mr. Stark?” the woman pales. “Don’t go anywhere. You said your name is Y/N?”

You smile and nod. The woman steps down from her podium and dashes into the back. 

“I thought you said you didn’t have any friends,” Natasha boldly teases. 

You turn and wink at her. 

“Tony and I went to college together,” you explain, although this implies you shared a friendship of some kind. “And clearly, his business is doing better than mine–”

The woman quickly returns with a short bearded man wearing a gray suit with red-tinted glasses that match his tie. 

“Y/N!” Tony shouts, embracing you in a dramatic hug. “You should’ve told me you were coming tonight! I could’ve put together a private booth in the back–”

“It was last-minute,” you say. “This is Natasha, by the way. She’s a friend.” Natasha is thrilled at the way you associate her with you.

“Hello, Natasha, I’m Tony.” He takes her hand and gently kisses her knuckles. He doesn’t seem surprised you haven’t brought Wanda along instead. “I take it you haven’t been here before, Miss Natasha? You won’t need a menu, I’ll have the chef bring out the best dishes we have tonight.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you say. 

“Follow me! You can have a table in our east wing. Where’s Wanda?” Tony says rapid-fire, turning around and leading them deeper into the restaurant. You step out of the way and motion to let Natasha go first, and she feels your hand graze her back as she walks past you. 

“She’s out with her girlfriends for the weekend,” you answer from behind Natasha. 

“Your anniversary is coming up, right?” Tony asks.

“Yes,” you respond, your voice suddenly tense.

The restaurant is packed, every visible table filled with customers, until they turn around a corner to a quiet, completely empty area.

“Pick any table. I’ll have a waiter come out with some drinks shortly,” Tony says.

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Natasha echoes, unsure if she likes this special treatment. You pick a table near the corner and pull her chair out for her. As soon as the two of you are seated, a waiter in a vested suit appears with a few bottles of wine, making suggestions and pouring samples into the glasses. Natasha doesn’t have enough knowledge to understand what he’s saying or differentiate the tastes, but she enjoys the experience. It feels strange to have someone serve her, when she’s normally the one waiting on people’s every demand. 

The two of you share several appetizers together. Natasha feels like she’s floating in a dream. You have been nothing but generous and respectful to her, but every time your left hand reaches across the table for the caviar, the wedding ring on your finger taunts her. 

The dinner itself is a four-course affair, including a rich chocolate cake that Natasha devours faster than she can fully enjoy. When the bill arrives (which Tony has already chopped in half), Natasha still asks if she can chip in (despite knowing full well she doesn’t have the money to cover even her portion), but you push her card away and give the waiter your black card.

The theater is three blocks from Tony’s restaurant, so you leave your car in valet parking and ask Natasha if she’s okay walking. She had not planned ahead very well, so she only has a thin cardigan to cover her shoulders. You notice her shivering and offer her your heavy black jacket that completely engulfs her frame. Your scent completely surrounds her now and Natasha swears she won’t wash this dress ever again.

The line into the theater moves quickly and Natasha follows you all the way down to the front, where your seats are perfectly center to the stage. She crawls over a few people, feeling a little smug about getting some of the best seats in the house. You had truly spoiled her tonight and she was never going to forget this. 

She leans over to whisper to you before the show begins. “Thank you for everything tonight. I’ve already had so much fun and the dinner was amazing.”

“You’re very welcome. Thank you for joining me, and thank you for all the hard work you do for my family,” you say and Natasha beams. “Me and Wanda really appreciate it.” Natasha deflates a little at the mention of your wife, but she pushes her out of her mind to focus on her time with you. 

As they wait, Natasha props her arm up on the armrest between you two so she can hold the playbill at a comfortable angle to read. Suddenly, your arm drops heavily on hers and she looks at you in confusion. You’re reading your own playbill and don’t seem to notice that your massive arm is practically crushing hers.

“Um, Y/N?” she prompts, clearing her throat.

“Hmm? Oh!” You quickly move your arm off hers. “I’m so sorry, I thought that was Wanda’s arm,” you explain with a nervous chuckle. Natasha laughs too, although she isn’t sure if she should be happy or worried that she reminds you of your wife. She’d be happy to take Wanda’s place any day, though. 

The musical is amazing, impressive beyond anything Natasha had ever expected. She cries when Elphaba defies gravity, and after the whirlwind of the second act, she is among the first to give a standing ovation. She’s floating on cloud nine as she walks with you out of the theater back to the car.

The drive back to your home is quick at the late hour. Just as you're about to pull into the driveway, you slam hard on the brakes, jolting everyone forward. Vision power walks past the beams of your headlights, only breaking the pump of his arms to wave in thanks.

“What is he doing out so late?” you ask, and Natasha is relieved to know she’s not the only one who thinks his habits are a bit odd.

“No idea,” she mumbles, watching you pull onto the driveway and stop.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” Natasha says, still giddy with excitement.“This was the best night of my life. I’ve always wanted to see a Broadway show, ever since I was a little girl. I never thought I’d get the chance, even after I moved here–”

“You’re very welcome,” you interrupt, seeming almost shy with the praise.

“I’m sorry Wanda wasn’t able to join you for your own anniversary,” she adds, although she’s not sure why.

You shrug. “Nothing we can do about it now. Besides, I’m glad you were able to join me and had such a fun night. I don’t think this would have been nearly as fun by myself.”

There is a pause and Natasha has to force herself to stop looking at your lips. If she had no self-restraint, it wouldn’t have taken much for her to lean over the center console and kiss you.

“Have a good night, Natasha. Drive home safely,” you say as the two of you get out of the car.

“Thank you again!” Natasha doesn’t even listen to music on her way home, riding out the high of what was easily one of the most memorable nights of her life in over a decade.

***********************************************************************

A few weeks later, Natasha is working a double shift: the first one at Steve’s house, and the second at yours. You’re away at work, as usual, but she knows you’ll be home before she leaves for the day, and she never takes any glimpse of you for granted. Wanda is also back to being demanding and cranky, and Natasha has no idea if you told her about the night the two of you had together. She had felt the silent instruction from you not to blab about her taking Wanda’s place and was happy to keep the memories to herself.

She’s in the front hall, mopping while quietly humming “Defying Gravity” to herself, when Wanda clacks by in high-heels.

“Natasha!” she hisses. “Didn’t I tell you to start in the kitchen? If I slip out here because the floor is wet–”

“So sorry!” Natasha apologizes, hoping that she doesn’t finish her sentence. “I’ll put a fan on.” She rests her mop against the wall and darts off for the $300 Dyson fan in the closet. After pointing it towards the gleaming floor, she pushes her cart into the kitchen and continues mopping. She makes sure to open the window to air out the smell, and notices Steve across the street mowing his lawn. 

She stares at him, wondering if he can see her, and her question is quickly answered when Steve waves to her. She returns his wave with a smile, then goes back to her task before Wanda can complain she isn’t working hard enough. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him back away from his lawn mower and answer his phone; he disappears into his house hurriedly. 

“Natasha! Always make sure you open a window when you mop!” Wanda’s screech comes out of nowhere. “The chemicals you use give me a headache!”

“Oh, but the window is open–” Natasha tries to explain, but Wanda silences her with a wave of her hand.

“I’m on the phone!” she says, pointing to the cell phone held up to her ear. Natasha bites her lip, but holds her tongue. “Sorry, honey, what was that? No, I was talking to the maid,” she says. Natasha perks up despite the way Wanda titles her. You’re clearly on the other line, and maybe you’ll be home sooner than expected.

But Wanda disappears into a guest room (your house had so many of those), and Natasha can no longer hear her conversation. She dutifully continues to mop the floor, careful to fan the mop in a semi-circle pattern so as not to trap herself in a corner. She moves the chairs to the hallway one at a time, cursing their awkward shape that makes them difficult to carry and taking special care not to scrape the feet along the floor. 

Wanda’s shrill voice carries through the house again, this time covering a topic that makes Natasha’s cheeks heat up.

“Oh my God, yes, I’m still thinking about last night,” Wanda says. “When you had my legs behind my head–”

Natasha tries not to picture Wanda folded up like a pretzel while you plow into her. But she can imagine herself in a similar position (she’s not so confident in her own flexibility, but she’d make it work for you). Your hands could probably fit around her whole thighs as you push her legs apart wider, thrusting your hips in long strokes to fit your big dick into her. Natasha is embarrassed to admit that the last time she had masturbated, she had thought of you the whole time.

How much more you’d fill her compared to the flimsy toy she was using. How you would feel throbbing inside her, your body pressed hot and heavy against hers as you beg for her permission to finish. Imagining having you like that, with that kind of control, brought Natasha to the most amazing orgasm of her life. If only you had been there to share it with her. 

“I didn’t know if you’d be able to go another round, but you proved me wrong,” Wanda continues, and Natasha picks up on how breathless she sounds. She wonders if she’s touching herself right now, with Natasha mopping in the kitchen. Somehow, that wouldn’t be shocking to her. “You were still so hard when I put you down my throat.”

A lightning bolt of arousal strikes Natasha’s core. She can’t focus on mopping anymore, staring blankly out the kitchen window, lost in the new filthy fantasy playing in her head, guided by Wanda’s narration. 

Natasha lies between your legs, her lips barely brushing your hips as she takes your cock down her throat. She prays her gag reflex doesn’t protest at the obstruction in her airway, but despite the slight discomfort, she wants to do this all day. Your pants and moans are like music in her ears, urging her on to suck harder and take you deeper.

“Please Nat,” your voice wavers. The muscle fibers in your thighs are visibly tensed and your back arches off the bed when Natasha pushes your hips down, trying to maintain some kind of control over you. But your body seems to have a mind of its own, with only one goal in mind. 

“It’s almost like I can still taste you.”

You poke at the back of her throat and Natasha can feel the hot throbbing of your cock in her mouth. She’s so eager to swallow anything you’ll give her, she’s almost embarrassed in her desperation, but when your hands cup the back of her head, pushing her down so she can fit the last inch down her throat, she knows the two of you are on equal planes of passion.

Your entire body flexes and the anticipation for Natasha is overwhelming. You finally inhale sharply as the first hot spurt lands on her tongue. 

“Being on your knees for me is a good look for you.”

Natasha tips her head back against the wall, her fingers tangling in your hair. One of her legs rests on your shoulder while the other is spread far apart so you can kneel between them, your mouth pressed against her heat. Your tongue swirls around her clit and Natasha fears she won’t be able to stay standing much longer. 

“Y/N,” she pants, clutching your head tighter and rocking her hips forward. “I need you.”

Your fingernails dig harder into her thigh to still her. You look up into her eyes and Natasha thinks she’s going to finish right there. “You have me, baby. I’m all yours.”

“But there’s really only one place you belong.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you grunt, almost sending Natasha headfirst into the headboard with every one of your thrusts. “I could stay inside you forever.”

Natasha hums at the praise. She’s holding on the bedsheets for life, spasming and clenching around you, trying to pull you in deeper. You fill her so perfectly, she’s convinced her body was made for yours. 

“Tell me I’m better than her,” Natasha gasps, fighting to delay her own release.

“Fuck Wanda,” you grunt, pulling back on Natasha’s hips at the same time you thrust forward, burying your entire length into her. “I love you, Natasha. You’re the only one I ever want to be with.”

A noisy car engine pulls Natasha out of her head. Her face feels flushed with arousal, and she knows what she’s doing the second she goes home. Your green car suddenly pulls into the driveway but stops. You get out and walk to the street, grabbing one of the trash bins and pulling it towards the house.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck me again,” Wanda says in the background.

The realization crashes down on Natasha’s head like a cold shower. She watches you grab the second bin with both hands, carefully walking backwards with it.

You’re not on the phone and you’re standing 30 feet away from Natasha. If Wanda’s not on the phone with you, then who is she talking to?

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

AN: Who do you think Wanda was talking to? 👀

To be continued...(hopefully)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[oo432i]

wasted

pairing ; husband!anton x wife!reader

summary ; you and anton are invited to appear on the popular talk show byob hosted by joon and brian. you both shares anecdotes about your relationship, from how you guys met to their first impressions of one another. fans also get a sneak peek into your married life, plans for the future, and anton’s sweet, drunken confessions that make you and everyone else fall for him all over again.

warning(s) ; english is not my first language, alcohol consumption, light teasing, fluff overload.

part of a series — jagi, mwohae?

Sitting on the terrace, you and Anton waited for your cue to join Joon and Brian on their show. You could hear faint laughter and chatter inside as the two hosts warmed up the audience. Anton reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“You nervous?” he asked, his soft voice cutting through the evening air.

You smiled, shaking your head.

“Not with you here. But… I am curious about what they’ll ask us.”

He chuckled, leaning closer.

“Probably something embarrassing. I’ll take the heat for us if it gets too bad.”

Before you could even respond, the production assistant signaled it was time, and you both stood.

“Hyung, guess who’s joining us today!” Joon teased, leaning toward Brian.

“I’ll give you a hint, they’re both very famous.”

“Bro, aren’t all our guests famous?” Brian rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean like very famous.”

“You’re making me nervous.”

Joon grinned mischievously before announcing,

“Let’s welcome today’s guests, Y/N and Anton, the ‘IT’ couple!”

Applause from staff member erupted as you and Anton walked onto the set. Brian stood to greet Anton with a bro hug.

“What’s up, Anton? Long time no see.”

“Good to see you again, man,” Anton replied with his signature bright smile.

Joon turned to you, his eyes wide with mock amazement.

“Y/N, you look stunning!”

You laughed.

“Thank you, Joon. You’re looking pretty good yourself.”

Once everyone settled, Brian leaned forward and ask.

“So, what did you guys bring to ‘BYOB’ for today?”

Anton reached under the table, pulling out a sleek bottle of whiskey.

“This is our favorite drink. I thought it’d be fitting to bring it here.”

“And soju!” you added, holding up the bottle with a grin.

“Because it’s my second favorite.”

Joon’s eyes widened.

“Yo, they know how to party. Why not open them up now?”

Brian grabbed paper cups and poured drinks for everyone. After a toast, he took a sip and exclaimed,

“This whiskey is dangerous, not too strong but just sweet enough.”

Joon nodded.

“I like it. You two really brought the good stuff.”

After some casual banter, Joon shifted the conversation.

“So, I heard you just celebrated your first wedding anniversary. Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” you and Anton said in unison.

“Time really flies,” Anton added, his hand resting lightly on yours.

“Let’s talk about how you two met,” Brian said.

You smiled, reminiscing.

“We met when I was visiting my cousin. Anton lived a few houses down, and we started out as friends. From strangers to friends, then lovers, and now here we are.”

Brian turned to Anton.

“What was your first impression of her?”

Anton chuckled.

“Honestly? How bright and extroverted she was. I was so shy back then, and she had this way of drawing me out of my shell. It felt… balanced.”

“And Y/N? What about you?”

“My first impression of Anton was his voice. It’s so soft and calming… like an angel. And his smile? It’s everything.”

Joon dramatically clutched his chest.

“Anton, you’re making it hard for the rest of us! That soft voice could make anyone fall for you.”

You playfully leaned closer to Anton.

“Well, too bad. He’s mine.”

The group laughed before Brian asked the question on everyone’s mind.

“So, any plans for kids?”

Anton nodded thoughtfully.

“We’ve talked about it. We both love the idea of starting a family, but we want to wait until we’re ready. Maybe in two or three years.”

“Yeah,” you added.

“We want to enjoy this time together first. But we do love babies.”

As conversation flowed, drinks poured, Anton began to loosen up, a soft flush coloring his cheeks. He leaned closer to you, his words slightly slurred but still clear.

“Do you know how lucky I am?” he said, his gaze locking onto yours.

You laughed nervously, knowing he was entering his overly affectionate, tipsy phase.

“Anton…”

“No, I’m serious.” He turned to Joon and Brian.

“She’s everything. Like, I don’t think I’d be half the person I am today without her. She’s my anchor, my best friend, my—”

“Okay, okay!” you interrupted, face burning.

“I think he’s had enough.”

Brian and Joon were doubled over with laughter.

“Yo, Anton, you’re gonna make us all cry,” Joon said, wiping his eyes.

“But it’s sweet,” Brian added. “Keep going.”

Anton ignored them, still focused on you.

“I just want everyone to know how much I love you. Even if I embarrass myself on national TV, it’s worth it.”

You covered your face with your hands, laughing and groaning at the same time.

“He’s like this every time he drinks.”

“And we love it,” Brian said.

Anton leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze softened. He was quiet for a moment, prompting Joon to nudge him with a laugh.

“Yo, Anton, you good? Did the whiskey hit you more already?”

Anton chuckled and shook his head, his focus drifting toward you.

“No, I’m just… thinking about something. You know, it’s one thing to love someone, but it’s another to realize how lucky you are to have them.”

Brian raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Oh, we’re getting deeper now. What’s on your mind?”

Anton smiled wistfully, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Our wedding day. That moment when Y/N walked down the aisle… I swear, it hit me like a ton of bricks. She looked so beautiful, so radiant. I couldn’t believe she was about to marry me. I mean, who am I to deserve her?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him.

“Stop that. You know how much I love you.”

“No, but seriously,”

Anton continued, looking at the hosts.

“I was standing there, and I felt this overwhelming mix of emotions, happiness, gratitude, even a little bit of fear. And then I remembered what my dad told me once.”

Joon leaned forward, curiosity piqued.

“What did he say?”

Anton’s smile grew, and he glanced at you before answering.

“He said, ‘When you find someone who brings out the best in you, who makes you want to be better every single day, don’t ever let them go. And if you’re lucky enough to marry her, make sure she knows how much you love her every single day.’”

The room grew quiet for a moment, everyone absorbing the weight of his words.

“He told me that when I first introduced him to Y/N,”

Anton added, his voice soft.

“He could see how happy she made me, how much I lit up whenever I was around her. And on our wedding day, as I watched her walk toward me, I realized he was right. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

Joon let out a dramatic sigh, fanning his face.

“Okay, who’s cutting onions in here? Anton, you’re killing me, man.”

Brian nodded, visibly moved.

“That’s so beautiful, hyung. Honestly, it’s refreshing to see someone so genuine about their love.”

You placed a hand on Anton’s, squeezing it gently.

“He’s always been like this. Even when he’s not drunk, he has a way of making me feel like the most loved person in the world.”

Anton grinned, his confidence returning.

“Well, I’m just telling the truth.”

[marauder-misprint]

okay i love your sirius and would like to request a sirius x reader bc they are sooo good

i have this idea where sirius asks reader to marry him after finishing school and she accepts of course, but then with the war a wedding is a bit hard so they end up eloping without telling anyone. and then like months later at like an order meeting james jokes sirius mate ur trying to be engaged forever/ when are u gonna actually marry ur girl and they are just like we are married. and maybe remus and lily worked out ages ago from the ring. and then james is devo he wasn’t invited lol

but i will read literally anything u write so feel free to to whatever 🫶🫶

There is no war in Ba Sing Se.

Except in this request.

Let's get married

Sirius Black x fem!reader

1.3k words

cw: mention of death/war, fluff

You had been out of school for maybe a month. Sirius was already insisting on a visit back to Hogsmeade. 

“They sell butterbeer elsewhere and we can always order honeydukes.”

“It’s not that same as being there,” he claims. 

And when you got there, you had to agree. The small village was simply magical and it was somehow better without having to return to the castle looming in the future. Then Sirius drags you out toward the Shrieking Shack and then into the forest. You’re a little confused until you come upon a clearing with a small pond. You smile as memories flood you.

“Sirius, what are we doing here?”

“You know where we are?”

You laugh. How couldn’t you? This was where you shared your first kiss with Sirius. You slowly turn around in a circle; the clearing was as beautiful as ever. When you turn back to Sirius, he’s down on one knee and you stare at him with wide eyes. Your heart pounding in your chest. Was this happening?

“Angel, I’ve known since our first time here that you were the one. It’s cheesy. I know. But it’s true. I used to laugh when people said when you know, you know. But damn, I knew. You’re the only person I can see myself with. I love you more than life itself. More than myself. I’ll live for you. I’ll die for you. I’d kill for you. I’d spend a thousand lifetimes in Azkaban if it meant I got to have you as my wife in this one. So, will you do-“

“Yes, Sirius. Yes!”

You pull him up and kiss him, not even looking at the ring he had pulled out of his pocket. 

When you pull back, he laughs, “Didn’t even let me finish my question.”

“You can finish later,” you say a wink. 

“You cheeky minx.”

“Ah but you love me.”

“That I do,” he gives you a kiss. “That I do very much.”

---

It didn’t take long for news of your engagement to spread to your friends. Most of them had been expecting it, either based on your relationship alone or because Sirius had confided in them. Because of the war, you didn’t risk having a big engagement party. Instead, you met up with your friends in small groups. A sprinkling of little gatherings in more intimate settings. As much as you would’ve loved a large celebration, you would save that risk for the actual wedding. 

Planning for the wedding was difficult. Sirius returned from a mission to find you sobbing on the couch, a letter in your hand and a notebook on the coffee table. He rushes over and knees in front of you.

“Angel, what’s wrong? What happened?”

You shove the letter into his hands, just shaking your head. A girl you had gone to school with was dead. She was muggleborn. Her whole family was found dead. Even worse, you had planned on inviting her to the wedding. You feel yourself shaking as Sirius quickly reads the letter. Then he moves onto the couch to hold you. 

“I can’t do it. I can’t plan this wedding,” you murmur through tears and sniffles. “How can I make a list of who to invite? Plan a seating chart? How can I do that when people keep dying?”

Sirius is quiet for a moment. His arms tighten around you.

“You have a white dress, yeah?”

You look up at Sirius, confused. “I mean, yes. I have that sundress you love.”

“That’s perfect,” he says, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Let’s elope. Let’s just get married.”

“What?”

“You’ll wear that dress, I’ll wear a suit. No invites. No seating chart. Just you, me, a judge and the rings.”

“Just you and me.”

“Yeah. Let’s get married.”

You nod and lean more into his chest. “Friday?”

He smiles down at you before peppering the top of your head with more kisses. “Friday.”

And that’s how it was. It was a quick ceremony, but it was enough. Then you spent the night in your flat, just the two of you. Part of it felt like before but Sirius started calling you Mrs. Black when you were alone. You didn’t tell anyone. Being married to Sirius, being a Black by marriage put a larger target on your back, more than fighting for the Order did by itself.  

As time passed and the war raged on, more people died. You were glad you eloped, although now your fear of losing Sirius to the war was even more heightened. This was more than your school boyfriend or your fiance. This was your husband and you were not ready to be a widow so young. 

---

After a few months, the war was still raging on and it felt like Voldemort kept gaining more followers with each passing day. Auror Moody called an emergency meeting to discuss new tactics and leads. Some additional missions were assigned, but none to your closest friends. The group decided to go out for drinks after, something to ease the tension.

“To the greatest mission of all,” Sirius says, raising his glass, “staying alive!”

“Hear, hear!” Remus says, following suit, and the rest of the table did the same. 

The atmosphere is upbeat for the grim circumstances. But there’s something about being surrounded by your closest friends with alcohol flowing through your veins that makes life a bit more tolerable. And your husband had an arm around you. You could never get tired of thinking of Sirius as your husband. It still felt surreal. It was a perfect feeling. 

James let out a wolf whistle when you kiss Sirius’ cheek.

“Padfoot, when are you going to marry this girl?” James asks.

“Yeah, do you guys have a date picked out?” Marlene asks. “Haven’t received a save-the-date or an invite yet.”

You laugh and give Sirius a questioning look. You would let him decide when it was time to tell people. 

“Sirius?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“About that…” Sirius is smiling down at you with that knowing look he has. “We’re already married.”

The table gasps as a whole before silence falls over everyone. You hold out your hand to show the added wedding band; Sirius flashes his hand as well with his own ring.

“What do you mean that you’re already married?” James bellows. “I was supposed to be your best man!”

Sirius shrugs, looking away from you to his best friend.

“It didn’t feel right, mate,” Sirius says. “Given the war and everything.”

“But I was supposed to be there!”

“A lot of people were supposed to be there,” Lily points out. 

“I thought I was your best friend!”

“Prongs, you are. And if we had a full wedding, you would’ve been my best man, no doubt.”

“Does it help if it was semi-spur of the moment?” you offer, giving Sirius pitiful look as James babbles on. 

“No! I should’ve been there! Padfoot!” James whines.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Lily asks, placing a calming hand on James’ shoulder. “I thought your ring looked… shinier.”

“Felt like something we needed to keep under wraps for a bit,” you say. 

“Not like my family name would add protection. Remove it, really,” Sirius says.

“But that means official congratulations are in order!” Remus announces, waving to the bartender. “Another round to celebrate the newly Mr. and Mrs. Black!”

“But I should have been there!” James continues to whine, although he has a wide smile on his face. He could be sad he wasn’t there all while being happy for his friend.Everyone is laughing and smiling now. Part of you feesl bad for laughing. James had a point. Of the people who should’ve been there, he was one of them. Everyone at this small table sharing beers should’ve been there. Your parents should’ve been there. Regulus should’ve been there. But there was a war. So it was what it was and you were making the best of it. And laughing about James being flabbergasted that Sirius had the audacity to marry you without him was better than crying about everyone who couldn’t be there.

[readychilledwine]

Runaway Love

Summary - Amren and Rhysand's sister have begun to grow closer since Feyre took her duties from her. Amren, seeing she's hurting and needing time away, invites her friend to Summer, she just didn't plan on happened next or having to explain it to Rhysand - Tarquin x Rhysand's Sister reader - told from Amren's pov

Warnings - none I can think of. Lots of italics?

A/N - a side from some Tamlin smut, we are at the end of my maternity celebration, which means we will go back to our regular updates 💜 part of me wants to turn these two into more, but that may be a project for another day

Amren watched from the hill as Tarquin and you sat facing each other in the sand. Your foreheads were rested against each other, fingers laced together.

You two had done the one thing your brother had made Amren promise to prevent from happening. You two had left the seaside Palace late in the night, when everyone else was fast asleep and gotten married on the very beach Tarquin now held you on. Married under the watchful gaze of Summer’s high priestess and the stars.

By time Varian and Amren had found you, the ceremony was done. Vows had been exchanged, the kiss had been shared, the priestess had left. You two had been there, standing as the waves lapped your glittering white dress, just staring at each other.

A throat cleared next to her, turning to her own lover the ancient being sighed. “How will you tell him,” He asked softly. “He will want to know why she refused to come home.”

Amren looked down at you again, a smile forming on her lips as Tarquin tilted your chin up and kissed you. “I will tell him the truth.”

Rhys sat down, Feyre having left the room with Nyx as soon as tension began Building over Amren's avoidance of her mate's questions.

Violet eyes stared at her, waiting for an answer to the question that was hanging in the air like a cold unwelcome breeze. Rhysand rose a brow to Amren and Varian. “Do not make me ask again.”

Amren finally answered, voice showing no signs of emotion as she sighed. “She is not coming back. She is staying in Summer with Tarquin.”

Rhysand's gaze darkened, “And why Amren, did you as her chaperone allow her to make that decision?”

Varian answered, feeling the need to defend his own lover. “Your sister is a grown female. She does not require permission from-”

Rhys growled, gaze going to the visitor in his court. “I did not ask you. I asked my second in command why SHE did not perform her duty to protect my sister and bring her home.”

Something in Amren snapped in that moment. Her loyalty to y/n coming forward.

She couldn't help but to growl at the High Lord as Varian shifted uncomfortable next to her. "When was the last time you paid attention to her, boy? The last time you actually listened to one of her mission reports instead of telling her to leave it in your office?”

Rhys opened his mouth to defend himself only to pause as Amren snarled at him. "You have not given y/n a single ounce of care since your mate came. You even stripped her of her duties to her home and court so your mate would have a place." Amren settled back into the chair, not even realizing she had stood in her anger until Varian gently grabbed her small hand in his.

"They married, Rhysand." He said softly. "Unless you plan on ripping the bride of the High Lord of Summer away and starting a war, there is nothing you can do but ask to visit.”

The High Lord's face fell. “They-” He shook his head, “She wouldn't have willingly married him without myself, Azriel, and Cassian there.”

Amren looked at him again, her eyes then lingering on Rhysand's wedding band. “There was a time where she believed the same of you.”

His head hung in shame. “Show me.”

They both shook their heads. “We weren't there,” Amren said calmly. “They knew I had specific orders and made the choice to get married in the dead of night. By time we found them, it was done.”

Rhys stood turning away and walking to the window to hide the tears that were about to fall. “Then show me them leading up to the decision. Show me she is happy.”

Amren couldn't help the small smile, a rare thing gracing her face, as she thought back to their first day in Summer.

Tarquin smiled down at Amren, welcoming her back to Summer as he motioned towards the veranda where a table was set for 4. Cressida was there already, eyes wide as she stared behind Varian.

She stood immediately, telling a servant to get another chair and moving so she would not be at her cousin's right hand. "I brought another guest with me,” Amren stated coolly. “I hope you do not mind.”

A soft gasp was heard, followed by the voice that would haunt the Night Court until they heard it again. “Amren! You did not warn him you were bringing me? You-”

Tarquin was moving to her, to his mate, immediately, taking her soft hands into his. “Y/n,” his voice was breathless as he studied you. Eyes locking on your own the second he had decided you were well. “This is the most wonderful surprise. Even the sea has become more fair in your presence.”

Amren chuckled as a blush spread from your cheeks to your softly pointed ears. “I believe your seas only reflect their master's emotions, Tarquin,” you stated softly.

“Then they calm while my heart races at the sight of you alone.”

Varian had his own favorite memory in mind. One from a night spent on the Pleasure Barge.

Varian watched like a hawk ready to attack anyone who may approach you or Amren. The two of you had your arms linked, whispering secrets to each other as he watched the sheer skirts you two wore sway in the soft salty breeze.

You had not been on the barge before, having been banned from it during your last visit by Rhysand, and the two older fae were excited to bring you to watch the activities taking place.

Tarquin had come beforehand, ensuring the private balcony you would be watching from was perfect for his mate.Varian knocked on the door as Amren told you to behave as she went to their own balcony.

He opened the door and ushered you in. “I trust you have an idea of what will be happening here tonight?” Varian led you in by your waist, holding you close to him as the guards watched. “If at any point you are uncomfortable, tell my cousin.” You nodded, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you stared ahead.

Tarquin was standing there, his back to you two as he moved pillows exactly how he wanted them for the night. He had brought in expensive champagne for the two of you, chocolate covered fruits, flowers.

It was clear to Varian you had never been truly courted in that moment. You had never had another fae ensuring everything was perfect for you and you alone. That they had brought the best for you and you alone. He bent down to your ear, “Be good, little star.”

Amren had thought of another memory, smiling again as she heard your laughter echoing in her mind.

Varian and Amren had found a shady spot on the beach, enjoying cool wine and fresh fruits and cheeses on the beautiful, warm day.

The ocean was gorgeous today. Soft waves rolling in, a breeze cooling the air.

That same breeze carried your laughter as Tarquin chased you through the sand. The two of you had just come out of the water after you had decided a swim was absolutely a must.

Amren immediately froze as you screamed, panic setting in until she realized it was because Tarquin had caught you and lifted you into his arms. Your back was to his chest, legs kicking out as your head fell back and your laughter filled the air again.

“He's moved her things into his room,” Cresseida mumbled. “Tell me, dear Amren. How will Rhysand feel about his precious baby sister breaking all of his rules while she's here without him? Sleeping in Tarquin's bed. Wearing a Summer Crown. She is sitting with him during court meetings. Need I bring up the nights on the barge?”

“Let them be, sister.”

“Do you plan on dealing with him if be storms here with his Illyrians in tow?”

Amren rolled her eyes. “Rhysand has hardly paid y/n a single mind since Feyre came to the Night Court. She was brought here on that first visit as a distraction without knowing what was happening. If Rhys wants to be upset, he can speak with me.”

Tarquin was carrying you over, holding you bridal style as he smiled down at you. The tail end of his sentence could be heard. “Tonight then?”

“Tonight,” you whispered.

“And then they married,” Rhysand concluded at the end of Amren's memory. He sat back down, head in his hands. “Did-” his throat tightened as Azriel and Cassian walked in. “Did she look beautiful?”

“Breath taking,” the Summer general answered immediately.

Amren ran to the hillside by the beach they had spent the day on. “No no no no,” she kept muttering under her breath. “This damn girl-”

Varian shot an arm out to stop her. “Do not say-"

“It's done, my goddess.” He pointed down the beach. There, just barely in the water, you and Tarquin stood. He had both hands cradling your face as he kissed you. The white dress you had packed, the one that was lightweight and shimmered like glitter, was sparkling until the light of the full moon. Your hands were resting on Tarquin's chest, hair flowing in the wind.

You were glowing, like starlight during Starfall, as your foreheads came to rest together. Varian sat in the grass, pulling Amren down with him as he did. “Beautiful little creature,” he said, nodding down towards you. “and her beautiful chaperone should not take this as a failure on her end.”

Cresseida joined them, tears in her eyes as she sat next to Amren. “It's the perfect ending, is it not? A runaway wedding?”

Amren shook her head as you and Tarquin turned towards them, hands held and fingers laced together. As you walked, you looked up at him and only him, trusting him to guide your feet to your friends. “No,” Amren finally said. “It is a perfect beginning.”

Silence had filled the room as Cassian sat, and Azriel just nodded. “So, she isn't coming home then,” Cassian said slowly. “And our little sister now resides over a court I am banned from.”

Azriel nodded, moving to the window Rhys had previously stood in front of. “Did she say anything to you before you left, Amren?” Azriel looked over his shoulder at her. “Anything at all?”

Varian nodded. “Be happy,” the couple said together. “Be happy and take the leap.”

Amren held her own left hand up. There sat a sparkling large diamond centered in gold and rubies. “I will be packing my things as well, High Lord.”

Rhysand sighed heavily, nodding. “Do you plan on a year-long engagement?” The two nodded. “I am happy for you, both of you.”

“And your sister?”

Rhysand shook his head. “Her I will deal with later.”

Taglist - @kemillyfreitas @biancabldss @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @hnyclover

[writersblockedx]

Wedded Under War: Chapter Four

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, slight Bestfriend!Steve Rodgers x Reader Summary - A celebration comes with a few bloody interruptions.  Warnings - Violence, alcohol use  Words - 1.7K

< Previous part // Masterlist

"And why exactly did you agree to this?" Steve had asked as the two of you drew over the stone driveway of the Barnes Manor where your future awaited inside.

You turned to face your best friend, a sigh at your lips. "Look, Tony's left me on the sidelines for years. I might not exactly like what this plan is, but it's the only way I see, I get actually to do some work." As Bucky had promised you. To your surprise, you hadn't doubted his promise. Something about that look in his eye. He was determined to make you a part of his team more than Tony ever had been. Though, you did consider if that was simply due to the fact he didn't care to lose you. "Not to mention, it is smart." You admitted.

Steve slowed as the two of you reached the front porch where the bodyguards awaited your entrance. "Can't believe you actually accepted it."

A shurg fell off your shoulders, "You were right."

"About what?"

"There's opportunity when you marry a Barnes."

The blonde-haired man watched as you gave nothing but a nod to the bodyguards and the front door was opened for you. You wandered through first, leaving Steve to be the one trailing behind for once. He couldn't help but wonder if he might soon regret them words. Steve seemed more worried about what might happen to you when you took Bucky's name than Tony did.

What awaited inside was something not to be expected. Rather than the two groups perched in the dark office, you spotted Tony outside by the pool area. The late spring sun casting against his glass of bourbon. Alongside him was Natasha, giggling at something he said. Not too far away were Barnes and Rumlow. Each of them too appointed with a glass of something strong. Something that, from the other side of the glass door, seemed rather inviting.

"There she is!" Called Natasha, her smile reached the side of her sunglasses. "Our bride-to-be!"

She rushed to your side and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Mainly due to the fact your wedding was going to be a complete hoax. "Not by choice." You whispered in her ear.

"Oh come on!" Natasha attempted to cheer you up, the smell of chardonnay falling from her tongue. "Me and Yelena can be bridesmaids."

"I've been a little too concerned over the tracksuit mafia to think about picking out bridesmaids." You pointed out. For some reason, this meeting seemed a lot more focused on the wedding than the very reason it was needed.

You watched as the red-head stuck out her bottom lip in protest. "So we aren't going to be bridesmaids?"

Her words forced your stern expression to fall; you could never let her down. "I guess so."

Her smile returned and she took a sip of her wine. Before she had a chance to greet her brother, a voice drew her attention, "Wine?" Bucky was stood behind the bar, awaiting your order.

"Bourbon, on the rocks, please." You requested.

The man dipped into the bar for a far too expensive bottle for why you were here. "Same," Steve added as he snaked round to your side, a little too close for comfort had he been anyone else.

Bucky gazed at him, his eyes narrow as he attempted to work out the atmosphere. "Sure," He agreed, grabbing an extra glass as he poured the whisky against the ice.

Everything moved so quick. You had barely taken a sip, barely looked in another direction before the doors to the pool burst open. Sam Wilson wandered out, dressed like the weather was a boiling temp despite the breeze still loitering the air. He held his eyes to his phone with a great big grin, "And we've gone live!" He practically cheered. He squeezed between yourself and Bucky, throwing an arm over each of you, "The world now welcomes the new Mrs Barnes into the city."

You stared towards his phone, a picture of yourself from your Social Media and another of Bucky. The more striking part was the title of the online tabloid: "CEO Bucky Barnes proposed to new girlfriend." It truly was all happening far too quick. It was as if you had given Barnes the green light and now everything was moving into motion.

Sam was already rushing over to show Tony and Natasha when you finally looked over at Bucky. "I thought you were keeping me in the loop." You spoke, a brow raised, ready for whatever excuse he was about to give.

"I was, wanted to, but I don't have your phone number." You bit your lip. You couldn't exactly argue against that. It wasn't as if exchanging phone numbers had passed your mind that late Friday night when you barged into his occupied bedroom.

You kept quiet, shifting in your pocket before pulling out your phone and handing it over to Bucky. When he finally gave your phone back, you took that as the opportunity to finally leave his space, heading back to where Steve was sipping at his drink. You felt the weight of a wedding you didn't want suddenly plague your shoulders. Even if you knew it was the right thing to do, it wasn't making things much easier.

"You sure you're gonna be okay about this?" Steve checked as he glanced over at you.

You shrugged, "It's not about me. It's not even about the wedding."

"I hate it." Steve finally said. His eyes not on yours, too avoident to the conversation he knew he needed to have.

You watched as a flicker of doubt passed through Steve. You doubted anyone wanted this for you, but it was the best solution. "It's just a name, Steve." You attempted to assure. "It's not real." At the end of the day, you would still be at Stark at heart.

"I just- I want to make sure you're safe, I can't help but wonder if this is the best way for it." You couldn't disagree. Living under the Barnes' roof, sleeping alongside him, it wasn't exactly your own version of safety. But at the same time, if it stopped the tracksuit mafia from making a violent appearance then so be it.

You reached out a hand, letting it gently soothe against Steve's forearm. "It'll all work out, Steve. I'm sure."

He nodded, certain words on the tip of his tongue that he couldn't verbalise. Ones of which soon got lost in the chaos. A rumble was heard from inside the house, enough to begin to alert people. And when a figure was seen rushing to the backyard, hands were itching for a weapon. You watched closely as the door swung open once again to reveal a very bloody Yelena.

"Oh my god," You exclaimed, the closest to her as you caught her limp body into your arms.

Her blood-soaked figure tainted your own clothes as you felt her weight push you down to your knees. Everyone moved far too quick. You were too focused on the wounded girl in your arms to keep attention to what was happening behind you. "Yelena? What- what-?" You couldn't get your words out, too stunned as you located the source of the blood: a bullet wound in the side of her stomach. "Oh, god." You mumbled.

In the midst of the havoc, you heard Bucky's voice, "Get an ambulance!" He demanded.

"But sir-" Rumlow attempted to point out the risk in bringing unknown people into the home.

But it became a warning which was ignored. "I said now, Rumlow!"

You felt Natasha's figure fall down beside you, her finger tips running through her sister's blonde hair. Yelena reached out slowly, her finger tips taking a grasp over your own. "He's here." She informed before her eyes settled onto the above.

"She's losing consciousness!" Natasha yelled to the rest of the group.

Sam must have been busy on the phone, a distant rant of, "No, no, she's not responding. Man, she's bleeding a fucking lot!"

Panic set in. You moved into imagining your friend slipping away in the comfort of your arms. So, rather sitting back and watching, you tore your belt from your jeans. "Nat, lift her up for me." The woman was silent as you tucked her palm under her sister's back, lifting her up gently as you swept the leather underneath. From there, you tightened it around the wound, preying it might stop the bleeding.

You kept your hands close to the wound. Any extra pressure you could muster, "Yelena," You called, watching as her eyes fluttered between life and death. "I need you to keep your eyes open for me," You soothed her through it, begging for the medics to get here. "Come on, Yelena."

"They're here." You heard Sam inform.

Before you even had the chance to look away from the blonde, EMTs were rushing through. Your spot on the wound was suddenly replaced by someone professional. "We've got a bullet wound," The woman spoke aloud as she examined the scene in front of her. "Female, early 20s."

You finally brought yourself to your feet, your legs shaking as you watched the scene play out like a movie. You felt your back hit a firm chest. One of which you didn't recognise until you felt the shiver of metallic fingers gently rubbing at your arm. You couldn't pay attention. Couldn't question it. Not when Yelena was getting carried out of the Barnes' Manor on a stretcher.

"We've got space for one." The medic informed.

Natasha was already walking beside the woman when she replied, "Yeah," And like that, the body was swiftly taken away.

"We'll be right behind you, Nat." Steve assured as the redhead rushed to get to the ambulance for her sister.

What was left was Bucky's blood-soaked cobblestone floor, half-drunken glasses and a hell of a silence. Everyone was taking it in. Not only the violence they had watched occur but the realisation as to what was coming: War.

"You did well," Bucky muttered.

Only then had you realised how close you had been standing to him. And only then had you made the conscious decision to take a step back. "I panicked."

"She'll be okay," He assured.

You instinctively looked back towards the dripping pile of blood. "She won't be the last of his victims, though, will she?" Bucky didn't need to answer, you already knew. 

Taglist - @barnesxstan @sebastians-love @ghalouha @mrsnikstan @brckenmemories @greatenthusiasttidalwave (Let me know if you would like to be added or removed) x

[writing-intheundercroft]

Tis the Damn Season - Garreth Weasley

Read on AO3

Word Count: 4,145

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, Oral and Vaginal Sex, NSFW, MDNI

Summary: You're back from five years of traveling the world and living in America, and Garreth Weasley invites you on a foraging trip down to his family cottage in Cornwall. You accept, having regretted not sharing your feelings when you last said goodbye. Or, the origin story of the Weasley knitted sweaters.

A/N: An exercise in writing smut turned into a delicious one shot for Garreth. I've clearly been listening to too much Taylor Swift.

“Welcome home!” Leonora giggled, over the sound of merriment in the Leaky Cauldron.  The class of 1893 was celebrating their five year reunion, with almost all of the graduates in attendance. Sebastian and Ominis had decided to sit out the reunion, staying at your shared home in New York, sending their well wishes with you as you boarded an ocean liner back to London.  Cross-Atlantic apparition had never been your thing.

“I’m glad to be back,” you smiled honestly. London had never really been home, not really.  You’d landed in a shared flat with the boys for a month after graduation before embarking on your world tour, but you hadn’t stayed long enough to make it feel like home.

Leonora and Poppy started detailing the whereabouts and day to day lives of your classmates. Violet McDowell had married, as had Grace Pinch-Smedley. Duncan Hobhouse was still painfully single and afraid of not just puffskeins, but now nifflers too after an incident with Amit Thakkar at the bank.  Leander Prewett was still gangly, and proudly wearing his ministry of magic badge for all to see.

“Oh, and Garreth–I’m sure you heard about him and Samantha Dale,” Leonora giggled, pointing across the room.

Your heart sank as you thought of him.  If you had wanted to know who Garreth had been dating while you were away, you would’ve brought it up yourself–now, you had to face the burning jealousy that bubbled in your throat as you thought of the pretty Ravenclaw who currently had her hand placed on his forearm.

Poppy sensed your emotions, elbowing Leonora to stop. “They broke up,” she cooed softly. “Months ago. They’re just friends now.”  Poppy cradled her swelling stomach, your future niece or nephew growing inside.

“Good for them,” you said blithely, trying to feign indifference.

“He’s coming over here.” Leonora whispered. 

You adjusted your skirt as Garreth cheerfully bounced over, red waves crashing over his head.  He’d grown since you last saw him, thicker and sturdier than the stocky teenager you’d last seen.  No wonder Samantha Dale had been interested in him, you thought.  He was impossibly handsome, with emerald green eyes that shined at whoever he spoke with.

“You’re monopolizing our New Yorker,” Garreth announced, cheeks tinged pink from the alcohol.

“Excuse us, then.” Poppy grinned, winking at you as she tugged Leonora away.

You smiled at your Gryffindor friend, who leaned against the bar next to you. “Are you having fun?”

He nodded eagerly. “It’s good to be back together again, you included.” he nudged. “I wish we could spend more time together before you go home.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” You asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“Taking a trip down to my family’s cottage in Cornwall,” he sighed. “I need to gather some more horklumps for my potions.” Garreth took a lengthy sip from his beer, but his eyes never left yours. “How about you come with me?  Been a while since we had an adventure.”

You blushed. “Are you sure I won’t just get in your way?”

Garreth smiled earnestly at you. “Anything to spend a little extra time with you.”

So, you agreed.  Garreth spent the rest of the evening by your side; you felt smug when Samantha Dale stared at the two of you, and the little bubble of regret in your heart grew when Garreth leaned against you.  It had been five years since you’d said goodbye, and you wished you’d been honest about your feelings with him the day you both left Hogwarts.  

Instead, he’d given the back of your hand a chaste kiss, letting you go for the last time.

“Don’t mind the dust,” Garreth advised, pushing the door in. “Mum usually cleans up before we all get in for the holidays.”

You peered over his shoulder as he guided you into the cottage. It was dark, clearly uninhabited over the colder months. You settled the bag of horklumps the two of you had foraged on the wooden table as he walked around the kitchen, lighting candles. Waves crashed outside the walls of the cottage; you imagined how this place might look during the summer time.  Visions of Garreth and his many siblings running around the beach flashed in your head, leaving a lump in your throat.

“There,” Garreth said proudly, assessing the lighting situation. “And we can start a fire in the living room.  Will probably be too cold to sleep upstairs anyways.” He led you to the living room, a small den with two loveseats opposite one another, and a stone fireplace in the center.  

“You just had to drag me on a foraging trip before a snow storm,” you teased.  

“What can I say? You’re an awfully great helper,” Garreth said sweetly, casting his wand at the fireplace.  It lit up beautifully, and the room started to warm.

You hadn’t seen Garreth since you and your Slytherin boys had left school for a worldwide tour at eighteen. Eighteen became nineteen, and then twenty.  Suddenly, London no longer felt like home, and the boys wanted to go to America.  You’d tagged along, their third wheel as you’d been all throughout your Hogwarts years, because there was no one else in London for you; why not experience New York?

Correspondence from your classmates steadily declined as you all got older and busier.  Some had started families (Poppy was pregnant with her first child already) and others were dominating their careers (Imelda was quick on her way to captain of the Holyhead Harpies at twenty three).  

Only one remained constant.

Garreth Weasley never stopped writing it seemed.  A letter once a week; two in one week if he missed an owl.  You shared your adventures, and Garreth told stories of the little potions stand he’d opened in Diagon Alley. It wasn’t glamorous, he wrote, but it paid a living, and he was finally able to move out of his family home and into a modest flat he shared with Lucan Brattleby. Garreth was the one who’d arranged the five year reunion, right before Christmas time. He had convinced you to attend when Sebastian and Ominis declined, claiming everyone would be glad to see you.  He was there to pick you up from the dock when you landed, and had escorted you to the room you were renting for the week at the Leaky Cauldron. 

Garreth–the sweetest Gryffindor you’d ever known.

“You alright?” Garreth asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.  He stood before you with stacks of woolen blankets in his arms.  

“I’m fine,” you uttered. “Just thinking,” you shrugged, grabbing some of the blankets to spread on the loveseat. Garreth did the same, setting the one opposite you, and your heart sank into your stomach.

Why had Garreth invited you to Cornwall?  Was it really just to forage the finest horklumps for his potions?  You’d assumed that he wanted to get you alone, and that you could finally confess your long held feelings for him.  Instead, he’d made you stomp through the brutally wet weather, stashing the spiky bastards in your bags for his famed wiggenweld brews. Your heart had done flips when he assessed the weather, claiming it was too cold and too far to apparate back to London.  He’d offered up the Weasley family’s summer home for the night, claiming the two of you could catch up over a bottle of firewhiskey instead of trekking home in the snow.  You felt that familiar warmth in the lower part of your belly when Garreth held you by the waist as you walked down the dune towards Shell Cottage.  

You’d only spent the last six years of your life dreaming of a night spent with Garreth Weasley, after all, and now he was tucking the sheets onto the couch opposite of you, preparing for an innocent sleepover.  You couldn’t help the flutter of disappointment, both emotionally and sexually. 

“Well I think we should drink, and then we can properly catch up, just the two of us.” Garreth announced.  “Be right back.”

You let out a hot puff of air, sinking to your knees in front of the fireplace.  So much for seducing him, you thought.  

Garreth returned with two glasses and a near full bottle of firewhiskey.  He landed on his arse next to you and you smiled, remembering the clumsy, boisterous teenage boy he’d been when you last saw him.  That boy seemed to live inside this grown adult–all muscle, shaggy hair, and hints of red scruff on his chin. He pushed his hair back as he held up his glass to yours, clinking them softly.  You caught up on everything you’d missed in the past five years; how Leander was still his best friend, despite being an annoyance, and how Lucan was a messy roommate.  You told him about your travels around the world, how Ominis snored, and Sebastian was a terrible cook.

“How is Samantha Dale?” You asked, breaking the ice. “I heard you two dated.

Garreth chewed on his lower lip. “Not very long, I’m afraid.  We didn’t have much in common.” he wrinkled his nose.

“Oh,” you said softly. He seemed to want to leave it at that.

“How are Sebastian and Ominis?” Garreth asked tentatively.

You rolled your eyes. “Still a pain in my arse, after all these years. I love them, but I’m not sure how much longer I can live with them.” You sighed.

Garreth snorted. “You’re the one who chose to follow them.”

You hummed quietly, knowing he was right. 

“Is it weird?” Garreth asked after a long sip. “Living with Ominis when you and Sebastian are together?”  He was looking down at his glass, avoiding eye contact.

You sputtered the firewhiskey, coughing at the thought. “Me?  With Sebastian?” You wheezed.

Garreth knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. “Well, yeah.  Because you’re together, aren’t you?”

You laughed, and then laughed some more.  Tears were coming out of your eyes while Garreth gaped at you, eyes wide as saucers.

“How could you think Sebastian and I are together?” You wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater, chuckling.

Garreth’s face was red. “I–we–everyone assumed!  You two were attached at the hip, and there was a rumor you two…” he trailed off, face as red as a tomato. 

“A rumor that we what?” You demanded.

“That you two had slept together in seventh year.” Garreth said sheepishly. “Leander told me.”

“Ah, yes. Well, that was a lie,” you chuffed. “I was only covering for him and someone else.  It was easier to let everyone think I was slag than for them to face the criticism.”

Garreth cocked his head. “What?  Who?”

You leaned back onto the carpet. “Let’s just say Sebastian and I have very different taste in sexual partners.  For example, I prefer men who are actually into me.  And two, Sebastian prefers Ominis.”

Garreth stared at you, blinking as he put two and two together. The blank look on his face disappeared, eyes widening in shock as he blushed.

“What…oh… oh .” he stuttered. “Wow.  I mean, I guess that makes a ton of sense. Good for them.”

You grinned, laying back on the floor with the glass balanced on your stomach. “Yeah, the two of them are pretty happy together. I think they’ll get married soon.  Bit loud, for roommates though.  I’ve been looking to find my own place.”

Garreth rolled onto his stomach, leaning his head on his hands as he laid next to you on the ground. “In New York?”

“New York, Paris, Buenos Aires…Madrid, Rome, or Berlin.  I could go anywhere in the world,” you declared, stretching out. “I’m a nomad now.”

“Not London?” Garreth asked softly.

You tilted your head to look at the redhead next to you.  His eyes were glistening, a perfect pout as he frowned at your list of locations. You fought the urge to brush his fiery hair out of his eyes.

“I’d come back to London,” you echo, “If there was something here for me.”

“Your friends are here,” Garreth reminded you. “Poppy, Imelda, Natty.”

“Poppy is about to have a baby,” you remind him in return. “Imelda is busy with Quidditch, and Natty splits her time between London and Matabeleland. There’s really no one else.”

“What about me?” Garreth’s voice was small. “I’m here.”

You dig your face into the carpet, hiding the blush that crept up your face. “You’re busy with the shop. I wouldn’t want to be in your way.”

Garreth suddenly pulled you close, his large hand traveling up to cradle your chin so you couldn’t hide your face. “You’d never be in my way.” he said firmly.

“I’m sure no woman would want me constantly hanging around you either,” you breathed.

His eyes flitted down to your lips. “I think you can tell from the way we’re sitting, there won’t be any other women,” he whispered.  His thumb ran over your lips, pressing against your pout.  Garreth rolled you onto your back, hovering over your body as he slotted a knee between your legs.

“You put the blankets on the other loveseat,” you whisper. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

“Because I wanted to be respectful,” Garreth added, brushing his nose against yours. “I’ve been thinking you were with Sallow for years , when I could’ve been doing this.” Garreth’s lips brushed against yours sweetly. “Fuck Leander–I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him.”

You gave a breathy laugh, putting an arm around his neck. “Yes, well, Prewett can fuck off.”

Garreth gulped. “I watched you leave, all those years ago, because I thought you were in love with Sebastian. I thought so long as you were happy, I’d be happy for you.”

“No,” you breathed in sharply. “I was in love with you .”

Garreth wasted no time pressing the weight of his body against yours.  You moaned into his mouth, letting him slip his tongue between your lips. He was everything you’d dreamt of and more since you were seventeen–hard muscle under soft warm skin, his freckled forehead pressed against yours.  You let your legs fall to the side, his thick body slotting between them perfectly–the most natural fit. 

“If I had known,” Garreth groaned into your mouth, “I would’ve asked you to stay.  I would’ve begged .”

“Gar,” you whimpered as he ground his hips into yours, arousal digging into your thigh.

“I would’ve been on my knees,” Garreth’s voice was gravelly now, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck. “Fuck, I would’ve had my mouth against your cunt, begging you to stay with me. It’s all I’ve dreamt of.”

“No use for regret now,” you manage to gasp. “No time like the present.”

Garreth grinned devilishly down at you as he pulled away.  He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “Tell me you want this.  Tell me, and I’ll give you all the reasons to stay.”

You licked your lips, nodding at him. “I want you.”

Garreth went to work–your sweater was torn off, trousers rucked off your hips as he stripped you of all your clothing.  His damn near tore off his own sweater, throwing it absentmindedly as he worked on the buttons of his pants. The room was warm–whether from your passion or the heat of the fire, you weren’t sure–but you stared up at the man, who’d tugged his pants and undergarments down far enough to free his length. You couldn’t help but admire the freckles all over his body, peppering his skin down to his groin. He pumped his deliciously thick cock in his hand, the tip glistening as he prepared himself.

“All this from a foraging trip,” you joked.

Garreth laughed, his whole body rippling.  He released his length, dipping down to kiss you again. “I promised I’d make the trip with your while,” he teased, fingers dancing over your core.  You shuddered, eyes shutting as he massaged your clit. “I intend to make good on that.”

His teasing words had you unbearably wet, the vulgar sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you filling the room.  Garreth laughed again, the sound music to your ears as he leaned down, pressing his lips to your nub.  He closed his mouth around it, and you let out a stuttered moan as he sucked.

“So sweet,” Garreth groaned. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about getting you off for years.” Opening one eye, you saw him thrusting his hips against the air, desperate for friction.  You nearly stopped him to help his situation, until he curled his fingers inside of you.  Thankfully you two were the only ones in the house, with no neighbors nearby–the scream you let out rippled through the air, Garreth’s name rolling off your lips as he guided you through your orgasm.

“Reason one to stay,” Garreth announced, your slick glistening around his mouth as you panted. “I can do that, every morning and every night.”

Nothing could have stopped you from pouncing on him, pushing him back onto the floor.  He gave you his signature mischievous grin, hands falling to the side of his head. “Go on,” he said lazily, as you straddled his midsection. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

You scooted backwards, his impossibly hard cock brushing against you as you adjusted your body.  His hands slipped to your waist, holding you up as you took him in hand, pressing the tip to your cunt. Garreth looked so beautiful, pupils blown with pleasure as he stared at the two of you, about to join.

“If you hadn’t been listening to your stupid friends, this could’ve been yours years ago,” you breathed.

“I’ll never listen to another soul besides you, ever again.” Garreth rasped. “Only you.”

Garreth’s head tipped back, hitting the ground with a loud thud when you slid onto him.  His hands snaked up to your hips, holding you as you took him in, inch by inch.  He held onto you so tightly, he could’ve bruised you–not that you would’ve cared. You would’ve claimed those marks as a badge of honor, knowing they were left by him .

“Fuck, you feel amazing.” Garreth sputtered. “So–so good around me, so tight.”  

“Tell me to stay,” You whispered, slowly circling your hips as you leaned down to brush your lips against his. “Ask me.”

“Please,” Garreth moaned. “Stay.  Stay with me.”

You picked up speed, cantering your hips.  It was picturesque–the fire crackling in the background, Garreth spread beneath you, coming undone. You raked your hands down his chest, fingers catching on the red hair that dusted his chest.

“Beg me,” you demanded, planting your feet on the floor as you bounced up and down his cock.

“Come home to me,” Garreth whimpered. “Please, please, please come home.  I’ll do anything to have you here with me, always.” He gritted his teeth, pushing his hips upwards. “Gods, I’ll make you come every day, twice a day, for the rest of your life if you just stay.”

“More,” you breathed.  You weren’t sure what you were asking for–more of his pleas, or more of his body.

Garreth started pistoning his hips upwards, meeting you with every bounce.  You couldn’t help letting out the desperate cry that tumbled out of your mouth when he sprung forward, pushing himself even deeper into you.  You were now fully seated in his lap, grinding against one another as you raced to the finish line.

“I’ll worship you,” Garreth growled, peppering kisses on your face. “No need to run anymore. You’ll have a home–I’ll be home for you.” Despite his hand that had slithered up to your neck, pressing light pressure against your pulse, Garreth’s words were wholesome, sweet. He meant them, you realized.  It wasn’t just the sex, or years of pent up feelings coming out into the room. The realization that Garreth Weasley loved you, had loved you for all these years apart, made you feel as if you were about to snap–and without warning, you did.  

Garreth let out a guttural groan as you wailed atop him, cunt clamping down on him as you finished.  You pulled his face onto yours, kissing him as you rocked yourself back and forth on him, riding out your climax.  From his breathing, you knew he wasn’t far behind.

“Come in me,” you whispered. “Make me stay.”

Garreth choked as he let it out, his release filling you to the brim.  You clung your sweaty bodies to one another, gasping for air.  He gave you another sweet smile, brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

“Do you mean it?” he asked quietly.

“Mean what?”

“That you’ll stay this time.” His big green eyes stared down at you hopefully, peeking through his red lashes.

You bit your lip, pressing your nose against his. You thought of the last day at Hogwarts, how Garreth had held your hand, wishing you well on your trip.  How if Garreth knew the truth, he probably would’ve asked you to stay. And now, after all these years, the road you hadn’t taken and had always regretted was now an option.

“I’ll stay,” you assured him. 

Garreth gave you the goofiest, most hopeful grin you’d ever seen before pressing his lips against yours.  You were still joined, and you could feel him stiffening again inside you as you wriggled your hips.  You would’ve picked back up on your lovemaking, if it weren’t for the smell of singed wool filling the room.

“Damn,” Garreth cursed, gently pushing you off of him.  He crawled over to the fireplace, patting down on his sweater, which had a black burn mark in it. “Must have kicked it into the fireplace while we were…” he trailed off, giving you a sheepish look.

You laughed, pulling blankets from the loveseat. “I’ll knit you a new one,” you assured him. “It’ll be your Christmas present.”

Garreth rolled back over to you; he looked silly, six feet tall and rolling on the floor like a boy. “You knit now?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I had to pick up some hobbies,” you snorted. “Keeps me calm, considering my roommates are sex fiends.”

Garreth laughed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Tell Sebastian and Ominis you’re moving out.” he said firmly. “I’ll tell Lucan to beat it, and we’ll have a home all to our own.  You can knit tea cozies and make sweaters for the cat.”

You leaned up, nosing his chin. “And sweaters for the family.” you whispered.

Garreth gave you a lazy, proud grin. “Especially for the family.”

You cuddled him in front of the fire, stroking his chest hair as you spoke freely about the future. You would have to write to the boys in the morning, you realized.  Perhaps they could send your clothes in trunks so you wouldn’t have to go back.  Ominis had been begging you to clean your room anyways, and Sebastian could finally walk around nude without you screaming at him.

You could spend Christmas with the Weasleys.  You could meet Garreth’s many siblings, as he’d promised long ago.  You’d knit him a sweater with your own hands, claiming him as yours. And perhaps, one day, you’d be knitting sweaters for your children, who’d run around the very fireplace you were currently laying in front of.

“What are you thinking about?” Garreth asked, stroking your hair.

“How nice it is to be home.”

The children ran around Shell Cottage, shrieking with laughter as they chased one another.  The Weasley wives sat in the living room, in front of the fire as they sorted through piles of yarn.

“Who started this bloody tradition anyways?” Hermione whined. “I’m rubbish at knitting.”

“It was Arthur’s great-aunt,” Molly Weasley laughed.  “She and Great-Uncle Garreth lived here when they first got married, and they started the tradition of new sweaters, every Christmas. Everyone in the Weasley family has followed it ever since. You know, she's actually got a very interesting story...thought she was a squib, didn't go to Hogwarts until she was fifteen...ended up becoming a world traveler before she settled down with Great-Uncle Garreth...” Molly trailed off, but no one else was listening over the sound of Celestina Warbeck over the radio.

Her daughter and daughter-in-laws sat on the floor, learning how to make sweaters for their babies.  Fleur had taken quite well to it, all of her children wearing knit sweaters in Beauxbatons blue, and it was now Hermione’s turn to learn, her daughter laying in a woven basket on the floor next to them, cooing softly.

“Thanks a lot,” Hermione grumbled, looking up at the photograph on the mantle. The young couple smiled for the camera, with Garreth Weasley proudly wearing the first Weasley Christmas sweater recorded in family history.

[rosyrosethings]

CEO Harry and assistant goes to a wedding

Summary: Harry and His Assistant Y/n

Get ger invited to a wedding woth his mom and sister.

Fluff

On an ordinary Wednesday, Harry and his assistant were working from his home office. Harry had opted for remote work that day, and Y/n was busy sorting through the day's mail. As she sifted through the envelopes, one caught her eye, addressed to Mr. Styles. She hesitated, wondering if opening it would be an invasion of privacy. However, she justified it by comparing it to her access to his emails and decided to take a peek. Inside, she found an invitation to a wedding.

The invitation read, 'Join us to celebrate the wedding of Lou & Cindy.' Y/n quickly scanned the details, noting that the wedding was scheduled for the upcoming Friday and that Mr. Styles could bring a plus one. Excitement surged through her, prompting her to dash upstairs to Mr. Styles' office.

"Mr. Styles!" she exclaimed, walking in and slightly startling him.

"Y/n, first of all, no yelling. Secondly, I've told you to knock before entering," he reminded her. She nodded, giving a quick pivot and leaving his office.

"Sorry," she mumbled before knocking on the door frame and stepping in without waiting for an invitation, taking a seat on the right side of his desk. Her legs crossed.

"I was going through your mail, and..."

"Isn't opening someone's mail an invasion of privacy?" he interjected, setting down his pen and turning his chair towards her. Giving her his full attention.

"Yes, but then I thought, as your assistant, I have the right to go through your emails. And then I thought, isn't mail and email basically the same thing? Yes, they are. So, I opened the mail, and you have an invitation to Lou and Cindy's wedding," she explained, slapping the invitation on top of his paperwork.

Harry picked it up, his brows furrowing as he examined the invitation. He had completely forgotten about the wedding.

"Who's Lou? Why haven't I heard of him? I know everyone you know. I schedule everything you do," Y/n inquired.

"Lou's my childhood best friend. I haven't seen him in years, ever since I moved and became CEO. I completely forgot about this," Harry confessed.

"Well, it's on Friday. I can reschedule everything. I can even arrange for Bridget to attend," Y/n suggested, though she wrinkled her face slightly because she wanted to go to the wedding herself. Plus, she wasn't particularly fond of Bridget.

"I actually can't go with Bridget. If I take her to a wedding, she might get ideas about getting married, and besides, she's gone to America for a business trip," Harry explained. He glanced at Y/n, who was sitting on his desk with a hopeful grin.

"So, that means you need someone to go to the wedding with you?" Y/n asked with a smile.

"Yes, it does," Harry confirmed with a nod.

"You know, I've always loved weddings, and I've got the best dance moves," she teased. She said hopping off the desk.

"Really? Such as?" Harry inquired.

"Mhmmm. My go-to moves are the Milly Rock and Shakira's hips. Everyone loves those moves," Y/n replied spinning her hips in circles.

"Do you want to come to the wedding with me?" Harry asked, chuckling slightly. Y/n clasped her hands together in excitement.

"I thought you'd never ask! I'm going to find our outfits. I'm so excited; I love weddings!" she exclaimed before jumping off his desk and rushing away, the sound of her bare feet echoing in the room, leaving Harry chuckling behind.

***

Harry and Y/n found themselves in the car, approximately 20 minutes away from the wedding venue. As they cruised toward their destination, a sense of anticipation filled the air.

"Oh, Harry, we're actually early! We're going to get some fantastic seats," Y/n exclaimed, her excitement evident in her voice.

"My mum and Gemma are already there. They saved seats for us next to them," Harry replied casually.

"Gemma and Anne are there too? You didn't mention that," Y/n said, her excitement growing.

"They don't know you were coming with me. I'm pretty sure they'll love the idea of us attending together," Harry chuckled, the corners of his lips curling upward.

"Not to mention, we're matching!" Y/n pointed out, highlighting the fact that her lilac dress perfectly complemented Harry's silky lilac button-up shirt. She couldn't help but steal a glance at him, noticing that a few buttons on his shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of his chest tattoos. He looked even more attractive than usual.

"Oh, Harry, we have to dance together," Y/n insisted.

"No," Harry replied bluntly.

"Why not?" she pressed, her disappointment evident in her tone.

"I'm not much of a dancer," Harry confessed with a sigh.

"You asshole," Y/n mumbled under her breath.

"What was that, Ms. Y/L/N?" Harry inquired, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Nothing," she pouted, refusing to repeat her remark. They continued the journey in a comfortable silence until they finally reached the wedding venue.

Upon arrival, they found their seats next to Anne and Gemma. Harry settled into the aisle seat beside his mother, while Y/n moved to sit in the empty spot next to Gemma.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, reaching out to grab Y/n's wrist. She glanced at him before turning her attention back to Gemma, who was watching their interaction closely.

"I'm sitting next to Gemma, if that's okay with you," Y/n replied, now standing in front of him. Harry shook his head.

"It's not okay because I have space for you right here," he said, nodding towards the seat next to him. Gemma couldn't help but smirk at the exchange.

"Besides, you can use my handkerchief when you start sobbing," Harry added, a teasing glint in his eyes. Y/n rolled her eyes but ultimately relented, taking the empty seat next to him.

"Harry honey, if you wanted Y/n to sit next to you, all you had to do was say that. No need to embarrass the poor girl," Anne chimed in.

"Right, he just wants her all to himself, even though he bloody lives with her," Gemma added with a playful grin. Harry didn't respond to their teasing; instead, he focused on his phone, trying to ignore the banter. As the sound of music filled the air, signaling the start of the ceremony, they all settled into their seats, ready to celebrate the joyous occasion.

The groom made his way down the aisle, accompanied by the sweet melody that filled the air. Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation as she glanced at Harry. She reached over and gently nudged him, trying to bring his attention back to the moment.

"Harry, the ceremony is starting," she whispered, her voice filled with excitement.

He looked up from his phone, his eyes meeting hers. There was a softness in his gaze that made her heart flutter. With a small smile, he pocketed his phone and turned his focus towards the front, where the bride would soon make her grand entrance.

As the music swelled, everyone in the room rose to their feet, their gazes fixed on the glowing bride. Y/n marveled at the sight before her—the radiant bride walking down the aisle, the proud groom waiting at the altar, and the joyful atmosphere that enveloped the entire venue.

Throughout the ceremony, Harry stole glances at Y/n, smiling at her beauty. Y/n and Harry made eye contact him during the heartfelt vows, finding solace in his presence. They were witnessing a beautiful union, and in that moment, their own connection seemed to grow even stronger.

When the couple exchanged their vows and sealed them with a kiss, the room erupted into applause. Harry joined in the celebration, clapping his hands and offering his congratulations to the newlyweds. Y/n couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading within her, grateful to be a part of this special occasion.

As the ceremony concluded, the guests began to make their way to the reception area. Harry and Y/n followed the crowd, their steps light with anticipation. The reception hall was adorned with elegant decorations, casting a magical ambiance that filled the room.

They found their designated table, joining Anne and Gemma. As they were talking and mingling. The Lou the groom approached Harry.

"Harry! Lad! Im so glad you made it." Lou exclaimed, engulfing him in a hug. Harry just as excited hugging him back.

"Congratulations man! I wouldn't miss my best mates wedding for the world." Harry said back as they pulled back from the hug.

"Thanks mate, and who's this beauty you brought with you?" He said, looking over at y/n. He took her hand and shook it softly. Y/n smiled at the compliment.

"Hi, I'm Y/n. Im Harrys assistant!"

"Ohh the assistant?" Lou said, y/n nodded.

"We are hoping she becomes more than an assistant." Gemma said laughing with Anne. Harry rolled his eyes at them. Quickly dismissing them.

"Dont pay attention to them. Take me to meet the Mrs." Harry said as him and lou walked away together.

"That wasn't funny. Mr. Styles doesn't like me in that way you guys. Now im embarrassed." Y/n said as looked at them both.

"Whatever you say Y/n." Gemma responded giggling.

The rest night unfolded with laughter, heartfelt speeches, and joyful celebrations. Y/n couldn't resist tapping her fingers to the rhythm of the music, her feet itching to hit the dance floor. Harry watched her from across the room. Harry was off mingling with people he hasnt seen in years. When a guy approached Y/n.

"Hi, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful you are. I was wondering if I could get your name?" She looked up at him and gave him a slight smile.

"Im Y/n, whats your name?" She said

"Im Joshua, did you come alone?"

"No I came with my friend."

"Oh, friend? Does that mean you're single?” He said, she nodded. Harry watches their interaction intensely from across the room. Not even listening to the woman talking to him. He mumbled a quick excuse me. Heading toward Y/n. Harry interrupted the interaction.

"Lets dance." Harry said to Y/n. She looked at him skeptically. Not paying attention to the guy in front of her. Placing his hand out.

"With me? Are you sure?" She said as she placed her hand in his still skeptical of his question.

"Yes you Y/n. Do you see me anyone else?" He said taking her hand as the current song was going off and the next somg was transitioning on. She followed him to the dance floor. She quickly said Sorry to Joshua.

Then thinking out loud by ed Sheeran came on. She felt nervous. Mr. Styles is her boss and he has a girlfriend why does she love him so much? She thought to herself. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Keeping a distance like they were at middle school dance. Causing Harry to chuckle.

"Scared to get close to me?"he said with a smirk. He placed his hand on her lower back. He pulledd her body closer. So there no space between them. He leaned down and whispered to her. Y/n scared

"You look beautiful by the way if i haven't already said that. " he said lowly, his voice radiating through her body. She basically melting in his arms. She whispered a 'thank you.' as their feet moved step by step and beat by beat. Moving slowly around. Only focusing on each other. Harry did not want to be anywhere else.

While Anne and Gemma we're watching in the distance.

"And she says he doesn't like her." Gemma mumbled to her mother. As they watched both of them dance

[aparttimewriter]

STARSTRUCK: part fifteen

charles leclerc x singer reader x lando norris

summary: y/n had made her choice, but can lando handle the choice she has made

📍 Melbourne, Australia 🇦🇺

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, y/nsister and 876,567 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yoursuername: mum i brought a f1 driver home x

view all 23,678 comments

oscarpiastri: charles thoughts on the bunnings snag ??

—yourusername: he was very confused

teamleclerc: ahhh he has now met y/n family !!

y/nstans: really believing those proposal rumours now

ferrarileclerc: why does melbourne look so good on him

y/nsister: i’m traumatised thinking about dad attempting to speak french to @charlesleclerc

—yourusername: ahhh please don’t remind me 🫣

charles_leclerc: g’day mate

yourusername added to their story

viewed by landonorris and 22,455 others

yourusername

liked by reneerapp, lilymhe, charles_leclerc and 954,677 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yoursuername: the day i said yes to being yours for the rest of our lives

view all 40,678 comments

charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️❤️

reneerapp: stop I’m ugly crying right now !!

y/nsister: the most perfect couple i have seen

lilymhe: i’m so happy for both of you 🥺

scuderiaferrari: congratulations to charles and y/n on their engagement

arthur_leclerc: can’t wait to have you as my sister in law

teamleclerc: he really did it ! my heart can’t cope

y/nfangirls: she’s finally found the one

yourusername added to their story

viewed by 32,567 others

liked by francisca.cgomes, lilymhe, y/nsister and 934,677 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, lilymhe, francisca.cgomes

yourusername: sending my love to all of my beautiful friends and family, that came to celebrate our engagement

lilymhe: can’t get over how gorgeous how beautiful you looked

y/nsister: can confirm @charles_leclerc can party, see proof on third slide

tifosileclerc: still can’t believe that they are going to get married !!

francisca.cgomes: my two gorgeous girls xx

—yourusername: love you x

norrispapaya: has anyone seen any photos of lando ?? did he get invited

—mclarenboys: so many drivers were photographed at the party, except lando

author note: hey guys!! so all my lando girls i promise i am working on a lando fic for you all xx

tagged list: @urfavnoirette @formulaal @maplesyrupsainz @celestialend @janeholt3 @starz4me1 @landossainz @k4marina @partyinpitlane @nessacarty1 @ssprayberrythings @1655clean @belennasif f @basicchelsea @eviethetheatrefreak @champagneproblems17 @noneofyourfbusinessworld

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting tubal ligation, eloping with my two girlfriends, adopting a cat and moving out, all in two weeks and without telling my mother?

🏥💍🐈🏠

So, I (F, 21) have been planning for a long time to sort out my life. I live in a European country, I'm in college and work part-time. For years, I've been saving up money to get financially independent as fast as possible and move out of my parents' apartment. I also wanted to have enough to pay for tubal ligation procedure, because I don't ever want children and would feel much more at ease when I'm certain that I can't physically get pregnant. My mother from the beginning was very against that idea, telling me I'll change my mind later and not to do anything permanent.

Two years ago, I've met two wonderful women, A (26) and K (23) on a discord server dedicated to our shared hobby (writing fanfiction). We'd been talking and messaging for months, eventually creating our own server and sharing our irl names and faces. It naturally progressed to a point where we chose to call it a relationship (I'm on the aroace spectrum, we're all neurodivergent and have a weird relationships with gender so it's not a traditional romantic/sexual relationship by any means). We're all from the same country so we met up a few times before deciding to all move to one city and live together. K and I are finishing our bachelor's degrees and A works from home so there weren't any obstacles. We found a flat and A moved in, waiting for me and K.

My mother knew I was bisexual and dating A and K, but thought again that it was "just a phase" and that we were only friends pretending to date for some reason. I love my parents, they are great and supportive people but sometimes it can be so exhausting to convince them of something when they believe they're absolutely right. So, I just stopped talking to my mother about my relationship and plans for the future. I visited A (and K after she moved in) in our apartment without permanently staying there yet.

A, K and I got an idea to celebrate us finishing college and A getting a job promotion by going abroad for a week. K jokingly suggested that we could visit another country and get married (gay marriage is still illegal in our country). Obviously, polyamorous marriages are not legal anywhere in Europe, but A told us at the beginning of our relationship that she never wanted to get legally married for personal reasons (but a non-binding marriage ceremony was fine with her). So, all three of us could have a ceremony and K and me could get legally married (the marriage still wouldn't be legally recognized in our country though). Then I also realized that I could get a tubal ligation in the country which we wanted to travel to (tubal ligation procedure is also illegal in our country).

I knew my mother would be against both of those decisions and I didn't want to argue with her the entire time before I left abroad. So, I just told her I'm going on holidays with my two friends for a week and she accepted that. I've also been slowly moving a lot of my stuff from my room in my parents' apartment to our apartment and was ready to completely relocate.

Anyway, the wedding went great (the witnesses were six people we knew from the discord server where we first met, who lived close by and could get to the wedding site easily), my operation went great, the trip was great, and just as we returned a friend asked if we wanted a kitten, because their cat had recently had some. We agreed.

When I was sure everything was settled, I called my mother and told her about the wedding, the operation, the move and the kitten. She was shocked and angry, said she felt disappointed and betrayed I hadn't told her about any of my plans, didn't even invite her to the wedding and that I damaged my body and would regret having my tubes tied. I tried explaining that I didn't know how she would react, that based on our previous interactions I hadn't thought she'd be supportive and that I wanted make my decisions without also having endure her disapproval. She cried, told me I hurt her and to give her some time to deal with all the revelations.

I feel terrible for upsetting my mom, but honestly, I think I did the right thing and that informing her beforehand would've ruined my mood and I'd have had to argue with her on the phone constantly during the trip.

So, Tumblr, AITA?

[melancholymetropolis]

Exchange

plot: In which a Bridesmaid finds out she accidentally got married in Vegas months prior.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Accidental Marriage

warnings: unedited (mostly). Golden Retriever/ Fox Au. Gojo is a goofball and makes Y/N laugh a lot. She is very much anti-marriage, but open to love. COMEDY. Couple's Banter. Lots of fluff. Gojo fell first and hard. New Love.

a/n: this will be a mini series with weekly updates.

w.c: 3.5k

“You have gotten even more beautiful since the day you left me.”

My eyes immediately widen from the sentiment. The air in my throat had become thick and my hands had begun to shake. I almost didn’t recognize his voice. Its cadence was a distant memory; one I had left behind months ago. In Vegas, of all places. It was the way he said “beautiful” that transported me back in time. It was the first thing he said to me. In a dark club, under neon lights and a cloud of smoke. He didn’t use basic, sexually charged words to get my attention. He was respectful, I liked that about him. He had been the only guy to introduce himself and offered to pay for my drink properly. He called me things like “beautiful”, “gorgeous” and “breathtaking”. Those three little words had meant more to me than whatever bullshit the other guys were doing. 

His electric, blue eyes seemed to glow in the low light. They never wandered anywhere else but my face when we talked. He seemed genuinely interested in everything I had to say. From me saying that it was my first time in Vegas to how much I hated crowded spaces. I had only come to the club to celebrate a friend’s engagement and was labeled the designated driver for that night. If I recall, he said my job was “honorable” and applauded me for taking it seriously.

And, in an effort to make up for our lost drink, he gave me his number. Told me to call him when I was free. 

Gojo’s eyes were just as I remembered. So bright and powerful— almost inviting to look into. He wore a navy blue suit to compliment the intimidating orbs and brighten his pale complexion. His unruly, white hair had been combed back with a singular curl setting in the middle of his forehead. The silver watch on his wrist looked heavy and vintage— possibly a family heirloom of some sort. I had forgotten how tall he had been. Even though I had worn six-inch heels, he still was a few inches taller than me. And I definitely was not a short woman.

“I left you?” I said, finally coming back to earth. “I don’t recall ever doing such a thing.”

A sly smirk began to form on his face. “Oh really?” He replied, taking slow steps towards me. “That’s mighty convenient on your end.”

“How so?”

“It relieves you of any guilt.”

A painful silence fell between us. Our eyes locked in a heated exchange, while our hands remained by our sides. I couldn’t deny the connection we had—couldn’t forget the spark. 

“Bride or groom?” I asked, turning my back to him. 

The tall man grew closer to me. He took his stance about two feet away from my spot on the balcony. He placed his forearms on the edge and leaned forward. There was a painful aura lingering above his head. Something was wrong. It was more than simply not seeing me for a few months. It wasn’t my habit of escaping in the middle of the night. It was complicated and conflicting.

“Groom,” he sighed, looking at the beautiful countryside of Japan. “I'm guessing you're here for the bride, given the Bridesmaid dress.”

I hummed in disagreement. “I know them both, actually. We worked at the same law firm for a couple of years. I believe I introduced them to one another, all those years ago.”

“Oh, okay,” Gojo snickered. “A divorce lawyer playing cupid. And I thought I saw everything.”

A quiet giggle fell from my lips. “That's right. Consider me a walking paradox.”

“That you are,” he replied sweetly.

The tension from earlier had broken and was replaced with a sense of familiarity. 

It was nice.

A few breaths later, Gojo opened his suit jacket and pulled out a white envelope. He handed it to me. 

I gave him a questionable look. “What's that?”

“Open it and you'll see,” was all he said before placing the envelope into my hand. 

I lifted the tab and pulled out a folded piece of paper. At the very top was the letterhead for the Clark County Department of Records in Nevada State. The letter read:

  Dear Mister Gojo Satoru,

We are pleased to inform you that your marriage license has been processed successfully and your certificate will be arriving at your residence in 3 to 4 weeks. 

As of April 25, both you and Ms. Y/N L/N are legally m—

“Nope,” I said, folding the letter and shoving it back in the envelope. “No the fuck we aren't.” I handed it back to Gojo. “Over my dead fucking body.”

“You hate me that much, sweet pea?” he chuckled. 

“I don't know you to hate you,” I replied, stuffing the envelope in my clutch purse. “And I would like to keep it that way.”

“You're breaking my heart, Y/N,” Gojo replied. His tone was still playful but there was a twinge of sadness in it. “Surely being married to me couldn’t be that bad.”

I scoffed and plucked a flute of champagne from the waiter’s tray. I took a big gulp of the bubbly beverage and sighed deeply.

Fate must've had something against me. I must've done something extraordinarily vicious in my past life to warrant such treatment. Marriage? The whole thing felt like a nightmare. I spent my whole life running from the false institution that was called “marriage”. It's a contract that almost always ends poorly. From spouses cheating on the other to emotional abuse and gaslighting— I had seen the most stable of unions crumble after a few decades. Families broken apart by secrets,  betrayal and unfortunate circumstances. Men and women alike pleading  for one more chance to correct their mistakes. And if that doesn't work, greed takes over. The desperate struggle for power between the couple and how it always ends badly. 

Marriage wasn't something I was particularly fond of. I didn’t see my sentiment changing any time soon. Even if the tall drink of water before me was legally my husband. 

I finished the rest of my beverage and placed it on a different waiter’s tray. I took several more deep breaths and turned my back to the white haired man. 

The alcohol had sedated the raging storm of emotions swirling in my being. A somber feeling eased into my heart, but I quickly shoved it back down. The blasting music in the background had made it abundantly clear that we couldn't do this here. Not now. Not at my best friends’ wedding. 

“I just need time to think this over. Figure out my next move,” I reached in my purse and pulled out a business card. I placed it on the railing. “Call me tomorrow afternoon and I'll tell you how I'd like to proceed.”

“Wait, Y/N—”

“Goodnight, Mr. Gojo.”

I didn't even look back as I walked away from him.

“Come on, Jessica,” I practically begged. “There has to be a way to end this shit sooner.”

“I hate to break it to you, Y/N,” my colleague sighed. “But there isn't. As you could imagine, a lot of people accidentally get married in Vegas. The number is close to about 50,000 couples. And a little less than half of them get their union annulled. Meaning, divorce court is overloaded with requests, follow ups and cases. If you file your paperwork today, you probably won't get a response for 1 to 3 months. Even then, the annulment might not even go through.”

“Because I was already married to him for six months without me knowing?” I said, pinching my nose bridge.

“Yup. To the judges eyes, it might not look like a mistake. He can still deny your annulment.”

My head was pounding and my mouth dry. An unknown fear started creeping up my spine. When I thought of the goals I set out for myself, for my life, marriage was never on the vision board. Especially not an accidental one. And definitely not one with a white haired, blue-eyed, Japanese man. However, he seemed to be awfully giddy about the union. Gojo sent upward of twenty text messages asking me how I was feeling or if I needed anything. He, also, suggested having lunch together to talk everything over. 

I looked out the cab’s window, watching the restaurant come into view. The place was clearly exclusive and very expensive. The right side of the establishment was made entirely of glass, overlooking the ocean just below the cliff. The sun was high in the sky and the clouds danced across her warm light. Waiting patiently in the front of the establishment was a familiar flock of white hair. The taller man had been shrouded in black this time. His overcoat perfectly matched the crisp suit underneath. The stark white shirt seemed brighter in the light; it made his chest glow. 

He looked entirely too perfect. As if he wanted to deflect my attention from something else. 

“Okay, Jess,” I said, pulling my gaze away from him. “I would like to survey all my options before I make a final decision.”

“Take all the time that you need, Y/N,” she replied in a sympathetic tone. “I will assist you in whatever way I can.”

“Thank you,” I smiled. “I will ring you soon.”

The car came to a gentle stop at the restaurant’s doors and I quickly ended the call. I thanked the driver once more and opened the car’s door. I barely had time to place my high heel on the pavement before a flock of black appeared in front of my door. A pale hand flickered in the doorway with outstretched fingers. I could only see his glowing chest and black attire from that angle. Not his face. I swung my other leg out of the other vehicle and took hold of his hand. The taller gentleman takes a firm grip and aids me out of the cab. As I rise from the leather seat, my eyes ease up his glowing chest and broad shoulders. They cascade up his broad shoulders and slender neck. His sharp jawline was relaxed and his plump lips in a soft smirk. Round sunglasses rested on his nose, covering his electric eyes. His white hair was messily styled atop his head and, also, seemed to glow in the sunlight. 

With my bag resting on my shoulder, I used my hand to close the car door behind me. Gojo held my hand tightly as he started to walk to the restaurant. The fingers were warm against my cool ones. It felt nice and. . . comforting. I didn’t have the desire to pull away from him. The realization we were still holding hands didn’t dawn on me until he dropped my mine. 

“Let me take your coat, Mrs. Gojo.”

And just like that, the cocky bastard ruined a perfectly good moment with a couple of words. 

I allowed him to slip my trench coat from my shoulders and settled in the seat before me. The taller gentleman slips off his jacket and takes the seat across from me. A toothy grin plastered on his lips as he eased the round sunglasses off his face. His eccentric eyes were already glued to my face. His gaze was unwavering. It was almost like he was waiting for me to say something in response to his little comment. The white haired man was ready for battle.

Unfortunately for him, I left my bulletproof vest at home. 

“Do you come here often?” I asked, bringing a glass of water to my lips.

Those bright blue eyes flickered to my lips. They darkened at the sight of such glossy softness and lingered on them even after I had placed the glass back on the table. It was almost like he was in some sort of trance. Lost in a memory that he treasured and never wanted to part from. 

I cleared my throat. “Mr. Gojo?”

“What gloss is that?” He questioned, abruptly breaking his gaze from my mouth.

“It’s from Juvia’s Place,” I answered with a raised eyebrow. “Why?”

“It just looks so good on you,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I want to buy you a lifetime’s supply.”

“You’re laying it on a bit thick there, don’t you think?

“That’s what you do when you’re on a date.”

“This is not a date,” I deadpanned. 

“Sure it is,” Gojo chirped. “I mean why else would we be in such a romantic establishment.”

The wife joke seemed to be a warning shot in hindsight. The taller gentleman was trying to test the waters to see just how far he could push me. I left him stranded the day prior. In mid sentence. He was not able to plead his case, explain his side of the situation. I had laid my intentions out to him loud and clear. I wanted zero parts in this relationship. Our union was supposed to be limited anyhow. A vacation fling that went on a little too long for anyone’s liking. At least for my liking. The marriage was clearly a mistake and one I wanted to rectify quickly. However, any time I clearly displayed my disinterest in our union, Gojo was quick to deflect with a quip. That meant he wasn’t going to take anything I said or did seriously. I would have to approach this matter from a new angle. 

I would have to play his game and play it well. 

The waiter walked over to the table and set down our menus. “Is there anything I could get started for you?”

I hummed sweetly and looked over at Gojo. “What do you recommend? I’ve never been here before.”

The man’s chest practically swelled at the sentences. A new source of pride pumping through his veins. A sly smile fell on his lips as the words started to pour from his lips. In Japanese. 

“What dishes do you have without shellfish? She’s allergic.”

The question caused my eyebrows to shoot up. 

I didn’t remember disclosing that information to him. At least, in the past twenty-fours that we had reunited. That could only mean that he remembered the little tidbit I shared all those months ago. Six months to be exact. He carried that information with him for half the year, almost like he intended to use it again. His memory must’ve been impeccable, which was why he was able to recognize me at first glance at the wedding. Looking back, I didn’t even notice him until he approached me on the balcony. I had been seated with the rest of the wedding party, practically on a stage overlooking the venue and I still didn’t spot him. He would be hard not to notice. He was one of the only people I knew with stark white hair and was under the age of eighty. Along with those electric blue eyes that pierced me like a needle. The chemistry we had was undeniable and I knew we shared a mutual attraction to one another. 

Would that be enough to have a fulfilling marriage?

The waiter skated away with our orders and Gojo’s eyes locked back with mine.

“So, how long are you in Japan for?” He asked, bring a glass of water to his lips.

“Originally, I was supposed to only stay two weeks for the wedding,” I answered, tapping my hand on the edge of the table. “But, a potential client just called and asked for a consultation. They are from New York but live in Japan temporarily. So, the answer is a little unclear for me at the moment.”

The taller gentleman sighed, amused. “It seems like I have a little bit of time before we part ways once again. The heavens have truly blessed me this time.”

“And just what do you intend to do with that information, Mr. Gojo?”

“I’d like to convince you to remain Mrs. Gojo for the rest of our days together.”

“As in for the time being? While I am in Japan?”

Gojo smirked at that comment. “As in for the rest of your life, sweetheart.”

I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest. “And how exactly are you going to get me to do that?”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His pink lips spread into a full blown smile. Those blue orbs sparkled dangerously as they flickered over my face. He seemed to be brimming with excitement. He wanted nothing more than to display his nefarious plan and keep me entangled in his spider’s web. 

“Originally, I planned on going the traditional route,” he conceded. “Showering you in gifts, expensive dinners and maybe a romantic weekend trip to Nokonoshima Island.”

“Buying a woman’s love? That is very traditional.”

“I know, but you are not a traditional woman,” he observed. “You are a divorce attorney. You are used to men attempting to buy a woman’s affection.”

“Very true.”

“So I came up with a proposal.”

“Do tell.”

“As you said, you don’t know me to hate me. Which means you don’t know me to like me either. And I, personally, think I am pretty fucking awesome.”

I chuckled, loudly. “You’re that confident, huh?”

“I am. Which is why I am suggesting that, for however long you are in Japan, we hang out.” 

“Hang out?”

“I would like to use this time to get to know each other. Continue what we started back in Vegas. Before you left me.”

“I didn’t leave you.”

The white haired man scoffed and leaned closer to me. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s not lie to each other. You practically ran your pretty booty out of my hotel room the moment the sun came up.”

“That’s not true!” I interjected with a smile.

“It is true! And you had the nerve to leave me a couple of twenties on the nightstand like I was sorta cheap whore you met on the street. I never felt so violated in my life.”

A fit of giggles burst from my lips, shattering the remaining wall we had between us. 

“That was never my intention! I just felt bad for ripping the buttons off of your Armani shirt. So I gave you some cash for dry cleaning.”

“There’s no need to explain yourself, Y/N. Your message was loud and clear,” he sighed dramatically, leaning back in your chair. “I was just your sexy little secret for the weekend. No plans of marrying me. You just wanted to hit it and quit. Leaving me to deal with the pain of your absence alone. Not even a cover to keep me warm, just the memories of our last rendezvous.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” I laughed, shaking my head. 

“However,” Gojo replied, completely ignoring my comment. “Unlucky for you, I have decided to get revenge by blackmailing you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“If you don’t hang out with me while you’re in Japan, I am gonna tell everyone you snore in your sleep.”

“I do not!”

“And you are a blanket hogger!”

“Blasphemy!”

“And you got me pregnant while we were in Vegas.”

A slew of laughter erupted from my being and I could feel tears beginning to prick the edges of my eyes. “ That is not even scientifically possible."

"It is so!" He laughed. "Why else would I have morning sickness and swollen ankles?"

"Gojo, please. I cannot breath. . . !"

"How could you attempt to abandon your child, Y/N?" He crossed her arms over his chest and playfully shook his head. "I am not fit to be a single mother and take care our baby alone."

"Well," I paused and attempted to catch my breath. "You should've just kept your legs closed and this wouldn't have happened."

The taller man let out a dramatic gasp and placed a hand to his chest. "Did you. . . did you just try to slut shame me? After you basically paid for my services? How dare you?"

I lifted a glass of water to my lips; a weak attempt to calm my explosive chuckles down. I gulped the cool drink down and placed the glass back on the table. In the same instance, the waiter started to place our meal before us. There had been a collection of small plates carrying different items on them. Some had stir-fried vegetables and garnish, while others had different kinds of sauces. The bigger plates had anything between sashimi and grilled fish to sauteed pork and beef. Once the waiters were done plating, our table was suited for royalty. All the different dishes came together to create a marvelous spread and their aromas were simply magical together. 

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little bit of everything,” Gojo replied, meeting my gaze over the food. “I hope that’s okay with you.”

Like a light switch, the playful (borderline pain in my ass) was tucked away from view and replaced with a dashing gentleman. Familiar feelings started to bubble in my chest. Ones I had tucked away months ago. A small wave of adoration danced between our beings. Along with attraction. The little exchange, our unorthodox banter, had lightened the tension that was between us since we reunited. It made room for why we were originally drawn to each other. His playful, almost youthful, side was almost like a cushion in my high-stress daily life. He breathed cool air into my hot tempered mind and gave me a sense of mental clarity I never experienced. It was easy for me to like him. To be attracted to him. To lust for him. But to love him?

That seemed like a different story. 

“It’s perfect.”

---------

Part II

a/n: don't fight me y'all! i've been adulting something fierce. as previously mentioned, this will be a series and i will post updates regularly. if you would like to be on the official taglist, let me know.

[anacdoce]

I Wish Chapter 3 - Wedding with a glow of silver

Pairing: Astarion x you (f!reader, implied sorcerer)

Rating: T

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Basically there is fluffness everywhere. That’s it. That’s the warning.

Summary: “You can tell that little heart of yours, there’s no need to race because I am not going anywhere. You are stuck with me, my darling.”

And indeed you are because the big day has arrived: you and Astarion are getting married. A beautiful night to remember, between some other things.

a/n: I can't thank you enough, @bloodlessdarling, for bringing Astarion to life, with your screenshot, in this perfect and special day. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. This means a lot to me 🖤

And thank you to @galesdevoteewife for the inspiration to some... huh... special rings 😜

Lots of Love to all of you 🖤

Read on ao3

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Months have passed since Astarion proposed to you, and you have been the most blissful person alive ever since, dreaming with it. You wanted something simple, a ceremony in the woods not far from your house, in a clearing by the lake, surrounded by your closest friends. They all promised to come, and you couldn't be more thrilled.

As for Astarion… Well, he would have preferred a grand celebration, but he agreed with your wishes, making you promise to let him commission a passage in the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette announcing your union. So, a small wedding in the woods it is.

Together, you decided to have an ancient ceremony, but Astarion wanted to surprise you and offered you a wedding ring all the same. He found someone who was willing to forge the metal with blood and he requested two similar rings with some drops of your blood mixed together. 

The rings couldn’t be more stunning. The silver, darkened by the blood, had hints of red that shimmered when caught by the light. Since that day, you wore them constantly. However the forger did warn Astarion that the blood might imbue the rings with some kind of power to them, even more because of your inherent magic present in it. But unpredictable as the blood is, he couldn’t really tell him what it would be. It was up to you to discover.

As for the rest of the details and preparations, Astarion didn’t let you take control of that. “My sweet little sorceress, there isn’t much to prepare, really. The date was settled, which was the most relevant matter. Just take care of our guests, invite whomever you want. I’ll be happy with your choices.”

“And who will take care of the ceremony? Can we talk to Shadowheart? I would like that very much.” 

“Hrg… Really, Darling? She despises me! She’d keep you miles away from me if she could.” He grumbles.

“Don’t say that!”

“You know it’s true. You just won’t admit it.” 

“She’s just difficult to please, my love. As you are, by a matter of fact.” You wink at him, and he turns away, ignoring your teasing. “But that doesn’t change the fact that she is a cleric, and so happens that she is my best friend too. I don’t think she could refuse my request.”

“Fine. She can do it.” You leap into his lap, aiming to kiss him, but he stops you, resting a finger on your lips. “She can do it, but you must do something for me in return.” 

“What is it?” You look at him suspiciously.

“You will not use those rags that you love so much at our wedding. You will buy a beautiful dress, perfect for the occasion, and you will dazzle me with your choice.”

“Astarion! You know I don’t like those fancy dresses!” You protest.

“I know. And I don't like Shadowheart either.” He looks impassable, and you know he won’t be changing his mind.

“Gods! You are insufferable!” You sigh, and admitting your defeat on this matter, you agree to his request. “All right. Have it your way. But don’t complain afterward if I look ridiculous on it.” 

“Good girl. And you won’t. You will look perfect.” He then kisses you, a victorious smile on his lips. 

He will be my ruin. And I love him so much.  

–

The day that you had longed for finally arrived, and you couldn’t be more nervous. Astarion, on the other hand, is all smiles and sighs, utterly calm. Gods! How can he be so relaxed? But seeing him like this, radiant, makes your heart swell with love. 

In the invitation, you asked your friends to gather after sunset at your house, just to make a quick catch up with all of them before the wedding. And all of them came: Gale, Shadowheart, Karlach, Halsin, Wyll, Lae’zel, and Jaheira. You couldn’t be more joyous to see them again. It had been quite a while since the Withers party, and some of them you haven't had the chance to see since then.

Gale and Shadowheart are your closest friends, and even if you hadn’t seen them as often as you liked, you always stayed in touch. Wyll and Karlach managed to make an escape out of Avernus, to be with you on this important day. After defeating Vlaakith, Lae’zel was able to travel through the astral plane again, and your wedding was a perfect excuse to visit Baldur's Gate once more. Halsin was very pleased with your invitation and looked forward to seeing you again. As for Jaheira, whom you bumped into now and then in Baldur’s Gate, seemed glad for you when you invited her personally.

And Jaheira is the first to arrive. She brings with her a bottle of a refined wine, and gives it to Astarion.

“How thoughtful.” He says, pleased with her offering.

“You’re welcome, Astarion. I think you’ve earned it. I had it stored for some years now. Hope to cheer for your happiness later on.” And she walks to you and gives you a hug.

You hugged them all as they arrived, and you couldn’t contain your tears when you saw Karlach jump out with Wyll from a portal that suddenly appeared. You ran to her, and she hugged you, lifting you into the air, spinning you around. “Hey, Soldier! I can’t believe I’m here again! Attending your wedding!” She set you down gently. “Fangs did hook you up, didn’t he?” She says playfully. 

“How could he not? I mean… look at him.” You both look at Astarion, mingling with your friends, avoiding close contact but seemingly delighted, in his own way, to see all of them again. 

You both giggle at the sight of him, and Karlach hugs you again, this time more tenderly. “I missed you a lot. All of you. And I’m very happy for you. For you two… You deserve this.” She releases you and turns to the others. “Hey, Fangs!” she shouts, moving away from you.

And here they are, all gathered again, like old times.

You give yourself a few minutes to stay behind, appreciating the sight of your friends all together. The people you consider as your own family. You had been through a lot together, saving Faerun from the Absolute.

Yes, you are sure that you don’t need anyone else on this day with you. They are your family.

“What are you doing here, all by yourself, little pup?” Astarion’s silky voice purrs beside you, as he takes your hand.

“Oh… just wandering about our past adventures. I missed them a lot, you know? I’m glad they’re here.”

“I know, Darling. As much as it may not seem like me, I do miss them too.”

“Well, well, look at you!” You tickle his belly, teasing him while he laughs.

“Tease me all you want. Today, I grant you that.” He chuckles, placing a small peck on your nose. “Now, come. It’s almost time, my dear.”

You follow him back to the others, and as you approach, Shadowheart grabs your forearm and pulls you close to her. “Well, now that you’ve greeted everyone, it’s time to prepare you for the wedding, don’t you think? I will help, if you want.”

You nod at her in agreement, pleased with her help, and in that moment she pulls you out of everyone's grasp, into the house, closing the door behind her. “Finally, a moment alone with you!” She sighs, leading you to sit with her. “I have wanted to talk to you since the day I received your invitation. Don’t get me wrong, I am very happy for you and all I want is your well-being and happiness. But I have to ask: are you sure about this?”

“About what?” 

“About marrying a vampire?! Are you sure you want to commit your life to him? I agreed to celebrate your vows, but I’m worried.”

“Shadowheart, we’ve talked about this a million times already…”

“I know, but you never mentioned a wedding to me. I always thought that, eventually, one of you would break things off.” She looks concerned.

“I am sorry to disappoint you… I love him. I’ve never loved anyone like I love him, and you know that!” You frowned your eyebrows, confused.

“Well, I wasn’t talking about you, to be honest. I know you love him. But are you sure he loves you the same way that you do?”

“Oh! I see… Tell me, why don’t you like him?”

A pause. 

“I didn’t say I don’t like him. Well, I don’t quite like his style, that’s for sure.” She chuckles nervously. She’s stalling, but you keep looking at her, waiting for a sincere answer. “Fine. I don’t understand what you see in him! You could have had anyone! And yet you choose him, of all people. He is mean, annoying, cocky, vain. Not to mention all of his conditions, consequences of his undead state! “

You place a hand on her shoulder, giving her an understanding smile. “Thank you for telling me that, for being honest with me. I know nothing I say will change the way you see him, but let me try to appease your concerns.” As you talk, you rise from her side, and start to prepare for the wedding. “I understand your worries. And yes, to others, he may be all theatrics, full of charms and empty words, but he is so much more than that. And maybe, if you give him a chance,  you might see that too. He is funny, committed, resilient, persistent, and when you gain his trust, he is the most loyal friend you can have. 

It’s not easy to gain his trust though, but given his past, who can blame him?

I don’t know if you have noticed but, to me, he is nothing but tenderness and adoration. With me, he is himself. And in the middle of all this, his curse is just a detail. 

So, to answer your earlier question, yes, Astarion loves me. Believe me. I feel his love when he looks at me, when he embraces me, when he cuddles me in bed, when we make love. Damn, I feel his love when he brings me a glass of water on a summer’s day. He shows me his love every day, at everything he does for me. And I don’t think that he wanted to marry me if he had any doubts.”

Shadowheart joins you, helping to unbox your dress for the day. She looks calmer, satisfied with your words, at least for now. “Your love for him is beautiful, you know? Everyone should be able to experience a love like yours. He is a very lucky bastard to have you. I just hope you’re right about him.”  

“I am.”

“And by the way, the rings are stunning.”

“They are, aren’t they?!”

As you are about to start putting on your dress, after undressing the worn clothes of the day,  a knock at the door interrupts the moment. “What a perfect timing. I'm going!” Shadowheart calls out, opening the door just enough to find a silver-haired man with some crimson eyes on the other side. “Oh… It’s you.”

“Yes, it is me. Now, can you step aside and let me take a look at my dear wife-to-be?” Astarion tries to peer inside, but Shadowheart was committed to block his view. “Sweetheart, please, take this creature out of the door. I just want to talk to you.” He pleads.

“Let me speak to him.” You approach the door, giggling, as Shadowheart moves away, exasperated. “Yes, my needy husband-to-be. What do you need?” You ask, peeking through the door, concealing your naked body behind it.

“Why hello, love!” He greets you with a smile. Then he frowns his eyebrows, trying to peek at the rest of you behind the door, as you fight to keep him outside laughing at your little game. “Why are you hiding from me?” 

“I’m naked, Astarion!”

“Not a sight I haven't seen already.” He smirks.   

“Well, you’ll have to wait to see it again. Now, what do you want?”

“Now? Now I want you.” He whispers, his voice dropping to a seductive tone. “I want to take you to our bed. I want to adore your beautiful body and feel your warm skin under my hands. I want to bite that pretty little neck of yours and I want to devour the rest of you.” Then he reaches your neck and nibbles it, letting his fangs graze your skin just enough to make your body shivers.

“I can hear that, you know?” Shadowheart shouts from inside.

“Is that a promise?” You tease him.

He gazes at you with a feral look, eyes full of lust. “Careful, Darling. I may bite you right now.”

“All right that’s enough!” Shadowheart approaches the door and pushes you away. “Is that all?” 

Astarion clears his throat before speaking. “No. I just wanted to say that we are leaving for the clearing.”

“Okay, go then. We’ll join you when she’s ready.” 

“Can I see her again before I go?” 

Shadowheart grows impatient and takes a deep breath. “No, you can’t.”

“How bitter.” He frowns at her, offended. “My sweet, I will be waiting for you eagerly!” He shouts, trying once again to peek inside. You giggle as Shadowheart closes the door on his face, rolling her eyes.

“Oh you’re so mean! My poor love!”

“Please! You just left him minutes ago! Is he always like this?”

“Yes.” You chuckle. “He needs me around. And he feels even better if he can touch me all the time.”

“I don’t know how you put up with that… But enough talking. Let’s get you ready before he lurks by the door again!”

Amidst laughter, you finish dressing. A beautiful silver silky long dress, with a big cleavage on the back and some thin shoulder straps. It fits perfectly on you, enhancing your body curves. You look at the mirror, uncertain. “I’m not sure about this. Astarion asked me to impress him with my choice, but I think he’s expecting something more… elaborated. And for me, this is already too much.”

Shadowheart approaches from behind, looking at your reflection in the mirror. “My friend, I think he will love it. You are beautiful.” Then she smiles, and grabs your hair, starting to comb it. “Now, let me have the pleasure to help you with your hair.” After a while, you’re ready, with a beautiful hairstyle revealing your back cleavage. “Do you want me to conceal those bite marks for today?” She points to those two little bite marks on your neck, a gift from your vampire lover.

“No, please, let it be that way. They are already a part of me, and I don’t want to take that away from him.” And with no more delay, you head out with Shadowheart to meet the others who were eagerly waiting for you.

The evening is enchanting. A gentle summer breeze stirs the air, and the sky is clear, with a full moon casting a silvery glow on the path through the woods. The forest whispers softly, guiding you to a magical clearing.

The sight before you is breathtaking. Torches form a glowing circle around the clearing, their flickering light dancing on the serene surface of the lake. Opposite the lake, a grand table stands adorned with countless candles, casting a warm, romantic glow. It's laden with an array of delectable foods and drinks, crowned by a magnificent wedding cake topped with fresh summer fruits.

Surrounding the table are elegantly arranged wooden chairs, adorned with vibrant red flower arrangements, their petals glistening in the moonlight. The entire scene is framed by the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft hum of nocturnal creatures, creating a perfect, intimate atmosphere for your special evening. And you can hear some music too. Alfira is there! So thoughtful of him to remember her! 

But your eyes only want to see one particular sight in this perfect, intimate setting. You search among your friends until you find what you were looking for at the far end of the clearing. There, beside an arch adorned with red flowers, the same type that decorate the chairs, and illuminated by the soft glow of fireflies, stands Astarion.

He is turned away from you, engaged in conversation with Karlach, but the elegance of his silhouette captivates you. He wears a refined black garment adorned with some silver and golden details. The sleeves are beautifully embroidered with silver waves that echo the curls in his own hair. All these choices contrast strikingly with his marble-like skin, making him appear almost ethereal under the moonlight. He spared no detail in his attire, and you wouldn’t expect anything less. After all, today is a very special day, and he couldn’t be more stunning.

He often tells you how fortunate he is to have found you, yet it is you who feels truly blessed to have him.

Lost in these thoughts, you notice that Shadowheart has quietly left your side. As she approaches the flower-adorned arch, the gathering turns to acknowledge your presence. At that moment, Astarion turns to face you. His eyes, filled with admiration, lock with yours, and a tender smile spreads across his lips.

“Go on, Fangs! Don’t just stand there staring! Go meet her already!” Karlach's playful shove breaks the moment, and Astarion begins to walk towards you. His steps are deliberate, and when he reaches you he offers you his hand, waiting for you to accept it. You hold it, craving for his touch, and he takes it, bringing it close to his chest.

“My love… I cannot tell you how beautiful you are.” He murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

You kiss his lips gently and your heart starts racing, reacting to his touch and his bergamot and rosemary scent. How I miss him already! Maybe he is not the only one who needs me around all the time… “You are fine yourself.” 

“Fine?! How dare you?” His voice high-pitched, faking offense.

“Silly! You are perfect, my handsome love.” 

Then Astarion interlace your arm with his, bringing you to meet Shadowheart, who is already waiting. As he starts to walk you can see how he straightened himself, tightening your arm against his ribs, full of pride, walking with you by his side. “You can tell that little heart of yours, there’s no need to race because I am not going anywhere. You are stuck with me, my darling.” He mutters, leaning to your ear.  

“Will do!” You say as you lay your head to the side, resting it on his arm.

When you finally reach Shadowheart, your friends gather around as she begins to speak, her voice filled with warmth and emotion. “My dear friends! Tonight, we are here together to celebrate a love that has shone brightly through the darkest of times, to celebrate a love that we watched grow, day by day, while we were facing the most difficult days of our lives. You found each other when life was at its most challenging, and you weren’t afraid to trust your lifes in the other's hands. In the middle of chaos and despair, you leaned on one another, finding strength and hope in each other’s presence. 

Your love has endured countless trials and temptations, overcoming every obstacle in your path, and they weren’t few. All of us, who are here today, are witnesses to the incredible bond you share. I wish you all the happiness that the Gods can give you. You deserve nothing less than that.”

Shadowheart takes a white silk ribbon from her pocket and approaches Astarion, gently taking his left hand. She whispers to him: “I may not have always been fond of you, but I see the joy you bring her. You have my sincere blessing on this.”

“I…I appreciate that.” He whispers back, eyes wide open.

Shadowheart returns to the ritual, leading your left hand to his, and starts to interlace the ribbon on his hand as she speaks. “You will now repeat after me. I, Astarion Ancunin, accept to marry you, (Y/N), and with that, I accept to love and care for you in the good times and in the bad ones, until death takes us apart.”

“I, Astarion Ancunin, accept to marry you, (Y/N), and with that I accept to love and care for you in the good times and in the bad ones, until death takes us apart.” Astarion vows as he rubs your hand with his thumb, ever so gently.

“Now you, my friend.” Shadowheart turns to you, continuing to interlace the ribbon in your hand, binding yours to his. “I, (Y/N), accept to marry you, Astarion Ancunin, and with that I accept to love and care for you in the good times and in the bad ones, until death takes us apart.”

And you repeat after her. “I, (Y/N), accept to marry you, Astarion Ancunin, and with that I accept to love and care for you in the good times and in the bad ones, until death takes us apart.”

She places her hand above yours and continues. “You are now husband and wife. May Selune bless you!”

“And the Oak Father guides you!” Halsin intercedes with great joy.

Shadowheart turns once again to Astarion, offering him a rare tender smile as she releases your hands. “You may kiss her now.”

He takes a moment to enjoy your united hands, looking at them in amazement, and you know how much this symbolic act means to him. Then, he closes his body to yours. With his free hand he holds the back of your neck, and touches your lips with his, whispering: “Thank you for always believing in me.” Your heart stops, and for a moment, time freezes as he wraps you in a kiss full of emotion. His tongue searches yours desperately, and as soon as you open your mouth he entangles his tongue around yours, savoring your taste, but not with lust or desire, with love. And you can feel him telling you, with his kiss, how deeply he loves you, over and over again. Then, like a spell of yours that wears off, you return to reality, and your friends are cheering and clapping, starting to approach, hugging you both with happiness.

The music starts to play again and it is now time for the party. You gather around with your friends, dancing, eating, drinking and cheering throughout the evening.

Wyll made sure to toast to your happiness a dozen times, and a dozen of times he robbed you from Astarion's grasp to dance with you. Even Lae'zel is enjoying herself, although you could hear her Chk from time to time.

Everyone is elated, all for you and Astarion. Your heart is full, and you feel complete.

After a long while, Astarion grabs you to dance with him one more time, and you oblige happily. “Are you tired, my love?” Your feets, dragging on the floor.

“A bit. But I’m not complaining. Thank you for tonight. It was beautiful! All of it!”

“My sweet, I would have married you in a palace, but you insisted on it being here, so it was my job to make it a perfect night.” Then he makes you spin as he admires once again all of you. “And for someone who doesn't like fancy clothes, let me tell you how stunning the dress fits on you.”

“Do you like it? I wasn’t sure…”

“I love it, my dear! I will have to blackmail you more times in the future.” He taps your nose with his finger and adds, “And don’t you think I didn’t notice what you did there with your choice of color, Mrs. Ancunin.” 

“Well… I thought it wouldn’t be fair if you were the only one glowing with the moonlight throughout the night! And let me tell you, I like that title very much! Mrs. Ancunin… yes, I can live with that for the rest of my life!” As both of you laugh, Gale approaches you, clearing his throat before speaking.

“I am very sorry to interrupt, but can I have a last dance with your lovely wife, Astarion, before I leave? It’s getting late, or early, depending on the point of view.”

Astarion side-eyed Gale, not very pleased with the request. “All right, I’ll have another glass of wine while you say your goodbyes. See you in a minute, my love.” He makes a subtle bow with his head, turns around, and leaves you alone with Gale. 

“Are you returning to Waterdeep already?” You ask him.

“Yes. But I will come back to Baldur’s Gate in a few weeks, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you alone, without someone’s ears nearby, if you know what I mean.” You glance in the direction of Astarion and, as you expect, he is looking at you two, watchful.

“Why? What’s the matter?”

“I have gathered some knowledge about something that may be of interest to our mutual undead friend, and to you.”

“What? But I told you that he doesn’t care about myths anymore…”

“I know, that’s why I’m telling you this. Because this is not a myth. I did my research thoroughly before approaching you with this. I can assure you it's real. It can change your lives drastically. But tonight is not the night to talk about such things. We will have plenty of time to discuss this when I return to Baldur’s Gate. But please, don’t tell Astarion just yet. Hear me out first, will you?”

“But why? He would want to know, don't you think?” 

“Yes, he would. But I think that he will not agree with this either. Sacrifices may be at stake, and I think he had his fair share of that already.” Astarion approaches you again with a suspicious look on his face. Gale smiles, used to his friend's behavior, returning your hands to him. “Well, thank you for this lovely evening. It was a pleasure to be a witness of your eternal vows. Now it is time for me to go, and I think you should consider leaving too. The sun is almost rising.” Gale points to the sky, which is now clearer than before. “I'll let you know when I get back to Baldur’s Gate. And you should consider paying me a visit at Waterdeep! Tara and I would be delighted to receive you both!” 

You watch as Gale leaves, pondering his words. 

“What did you two talk about?” Astarion interrupts your thoughts, looking at you curiously.

“Hum? Oh… nothing important really…”

“It does not seem like it, by the way you were far away, lost in your thoughts right now, my sweet.”

“Yes… right… He may have told me something, but I didn’t quite understand what, to be honest.” Astarion keeps staring at you, now more suspicious than before. You cup his face with your hand, brushing his cheek with your thumb. “Don’t you fret, my star. I’ll tell you as soon as I find out what it was myself. Now, the sun is indeed rising, we should go, Astarion.”

If you still had your tadpoles, Astarion would use it right now to peek into your mind, you are sure of it. Though he is not satisfied with your answer, he lets you drop the subject. “All right, my dear. Let’s say our farewells and get back to our home. I have a promise to fulfill.” He nibbles your earlobe, kissing your neck after. 

You then whisper in his ear: “I can’t wait, my husband.” 

He rolls his eyes to the sound of your words and purrs, “Hum…I do rather like that, you know?” 

You smile at him, then hold his hand and head to your friends to say goodbye, all while thinking of Gale's intriguing words. 

[vmlnrzmp4]

adjusting the final piece of the accessory: a tiara on the princess's head, you stepped aside as she gave you a twirl, "you look great, princess," you compliment, a shade of crimson dusting her cheeks.

"you should get dolled up too," the princess suggests, "maybe my brother would notice you then."

you simply gave her a small smile, "your highness, let's focus on you," there was a tease in your tone.

"oh you," she groans at the formality, "stop with that."

you were the attendant of the princess. and while you stood nowhere near her, she treated you as a friend. after all, the sheltered princess had no one other than you who'd treat her like one. and before you knew it, the princess dragged you into the closet.

there was a knock on the door. it repeated. the voice of the prince asking if his sister is ready. the angelic voice belonged to non other than the beautiful prince: park jimin.

you opened the doors, facing him. his eyes travelled up and down—taking in all of you. you looked so simple, in contrast to what you were wearing.

the dress you wore was deep blue, highlighted with a darker shades as it flowed. your face didn't hint any adornment and your hair was a little messy.

before either of you could speak, the princess pulled you back, holding the knobs, "not yet," she says, shutting the doors close.

the grand doors swung open and one by one, princes and their royal families arrive as they were invited to the ball.

however, the function wouldn't start. how could it if the princess wasn't there?

and when she did, the chatters stopped. all eyes were in the gorgeous gorgeous girl.

you followed closely behind, bowing to the king and queen, "your majesties," you start, "deepest apologies for the delay. the princess wished to look her best."

the queen's eyes soften and she was quite surprised to see you also dolled up alongside the princess, "very well," in a quiet tone, she urges the king to proceed and the king announces to start the celebration.

halfway through it, the princess didn't dance with anyone, only bowing to the princes as a sign of respect.

the last prince she bowed to was persistent however. he took the princess' hand, kissing it, urging her to dance with him.

but the princess' overprotective brother stepped in. in a firm yet respectful manner, he called the persistent prince out.

the princess excused herself, along with you following, the two of you stepped out in the backyard. jimin following shortly behind.

"you know sis," he began, "this ball was an excuse for our parents to find you a prince to marry."

"what?" the princess exclaimed, "h-how could they?" the princess, feeling betrayed, hastily, she hitched up her gown and rushed out of the gates, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

"princess—" you were about to follow her. jimin however, grabbed your arm, stopping you from going along.

"she's with seungcheol," he says, refering to her bodyguard, "she'll be fine."

your features soften and jimin turns to face you, holding out his hand for you, taking you off guard, "y/n," he began, "dance with me."

your eyes widen, "your highness, there are people inside. i shouldn't be here with you alone—"

"it's not a request," he says, grabbing your waist, pulling you closer, "dance with me," he declares, taking your hand, placing a quick kiss on your knuckles before setting it on his shoulder.

the music from inside sounded muffled in the backyard, but enough for you two to sway along.

"your highness," your eyes never locked with his, "i shouldn't..." you trailed off.

"why do you think so?" he asks softly, leaning in closer.

"your highness, you know i'm in no position. i'm just an attendant. just y/n."

"just y/n?" he repeats, "well then, for tonight, i'm just jimin."

still avoiding his gaze, you whisper, "it's not fair,"

"what's not fair?" he asks, leaning more towards you, his mouth hovering over the column of your neck.

"first, you order me to dance with you. the next moment, you say that."

he lets out a deep chuckle, his breath near your neck sending shivers down your spine as he finally connects his lips to your skin.

you shut your eyes, your hands on his shoulders. for a moment, you let your emotions take over you. how could you not? when jimin is right there, continuing his ministrations with his mouth.

"tell you what," he whispers against you, "become my attendant."

"your highness—"

"no one needs to know what we do behind closed doors. and for the both of us—we can be just y/n and just jimin."

—

a/n: too fast paced I'm :( maybe i should quit the job of giving titles

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

You & I

Ya’ll can thank this fit and @erggggggggg for this. Fluffiness ahead. You may or may not need tissues.

Contains- Social Anxiety, Dadrry, JUST PURE FLUFF

Summary- Y/N has never been a big people person. Harry loves that about her. But he also wants her to enjoy one of those most important times of their life. On the night of their wedding rehearsal, her anxiety gets the best of her, until her future husband brings her out of her shell.

>>>———————->

“Love, please, she’ll be just fine with my mum.”

I shake my head, tears threatening to spill as I hug my baby girl close to me.

“She’s- she’ll freak out. You know how she’s been lately. She’ll have a fit and I just want everything to go okay… It’s just better if I hold her.”

Harry lets out a small sigh and shakes his head. He plucks Poppy from my arms and carries her to Anne, who happily takes the giggly two year old in her arms. He comes back over to me and takes my hand, dragging me outside the reception hall.

He leads me over to the side wall over looking the green forest and he sits down, placing me in his lap as he holds me close and tight.

“Talk to me love. What’s going on inside your pretty head?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, shaky as I lean into his chest.

“I’m just- I’m not good with talking to people. I know this is part of getting married but I’m nervous…”

Harry lets out a small laugh and he hugs me tighter as he begins to rock me back and forth in his arms.

“Y/N, everyone attending is our closest friends and family. They love you! You have nothing to be nervous about.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head against his chest.

“Harry, you literally invited Elton John and Stevie Nicks. People I can hardly let out a word to because I’m so nervous.”

He chuckles again and stands up, placing me on the ground before he takes my hand as he begins to lead me through the small garden.

“But you know who else is there? Our friends. You know.. Niall, Sarah, Mitch, all people who adore you. Your mum, who obviously loves you to death. My mum who most likely loves you more then she does me and Gem… Tonight is just our rehearsal. Tomorrow is the big day. And you? Will be just fine.”

I give him a small smile and I squeeze his hand before wrapping my arms around his as he gazes into my eyes. He pecks my lips softly, my lip gloss slightly coating his lips as he rests his forehead against mine.

“All those people? They’re here for us. To celebrate us with those we love dearly. Be yourself. This is our day. You & I, right?”

He pecks my lips once more and I smile.

“Always. Thank you Harry… For everything. You’ve made me so.. So happy…You and our daughter… You’re my entire world. I don’t know where I’d be without you…”

He smiles and hugs me tight before placing a kiss on my forehead.

“I should be thanking you, my love. You have made me the happiest man in the world. You are the love of my life and I’m grateful I met you.”

He holds me for a moment, swaying with me as we enjoy the silence, until our little moment is interrupted.

“Well, well, well. Escaping from your own rehearsal dinner? Poppy, tell mummy and daddy to hurry up.”

We turn around to see Gemma and Anne, who’s still holding a happy Poppy, wiggling her legs. Anne sets her down and she runs to us, her little dress bouncing a little as she giggles. Harry lets me go and bends down a little to catch her in his arms. She squeals as he hoists her up and holds her close.

“Poppy, what do we say to mumma, do you remember?”

She nods with a little giggle and reaches out to me, grabbing my cheeks. She looks into my eyes and I smile as I stare into her eyes, practically a carbon copy of Harry’s.

“Happy mama, happy daddy, happy Poppy! Mama happy?”

I smile and take her from Harry’s arms, kissing her little cheeks.

“Mama’s very happy, baby.”

She smiles and looks at Harry.

“Daddy happy?”

Harry smiles and nods before he kisses her cheek.

“Very happy,bug. Is Poppy happy?”

She nods with a big smile and we laugh. She wiggles in my arms and I set her down. She takes my hand in hers and Harry’s in her other hand, squeezing tight with her little hands.

“I wove mama and daddy.”

Harry and I share a look and we smile, and I fight to hold back my tears.

“We love you too baby.”

Poppy giggles and looks up at me.

“Inside? We go inside mama?”

Harry and I share one more look before I nod. I smooth out my dress before squeezing onto Poppy’s hand and we head inside together. Harry gives me a reassuring smile and we hand Poppy off to Anne.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, lots of smiles and laughs coming from our closest friends and family. We tuck Poppy in to bed, with her plead for kisses from both mama and daddy and a story before bed.

I start to feel better, and though Harry pouts about sleeping separately for the night, he gives me one final kiss with the promise of tomorrow being the start of forever.

>>>——————->

Please let me know what you guys thought!!! I may be open to writing more of this!!!

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