#they deserve a sweet country wedding

[froginamoodboard]

Halogear wedding moodboard

Requested by: anon

x x x x x x x x x

[bunnyrafe]

𓊆ྀིDO YOU TRUST ME? — “rafe always has his motives.”𓊇ྀི

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. 1k. dark / taboo themes ahead — please read at your own risk. ♥︎ gif credit f!reader, kook!reader, dark!rafe, oral (f. receiving), manipulation & persuasion, no protection, baby trapping.

For as long as you can remember you wanted your own family. A big house, a doting husband, a cute baby. All of it and more. Surely for a girl like you who was born spoiled and into a kook household it’s obtainable. Except your prince charming isn’t anything like your family imagined.

“But daddy, I love him!” You find yourself yelling more often than you’d like to admit despite how much your parents try to tell you he’s trouble. And unfortunately at the end of the day they’re right— Rafe Cameron is trouble.

Every inch of him. But every inch of him is also yours. Yours to cling to and lean on, and to daydream about. Your romance started with tipsy nights at the country club before it became loud house parties and drugs that would give your parents heart attacks; it was innocent before it was anything else. That’s what they don’t understand. That’s what you remember as you hang off of his arm, walking back to the truck with your little sundress swaying around your thighs.

You’re the sweetest girl he’s ever known, which is what saves you from most of his fury. It’s a match made in Heaven as far as you’re concerned, but it’s easy to be blinded when there’s constant wedding bells ringing in your head. 

“You’re so handsome, Rafe.” You babble the words out with a hand on either side of his face, looking at him as if he hung the stars in the sky just for you to marvel at. And he’s not exactly sure what he did to deserve someone like you in his life when he’s so twisted, yet he doesn’t dare to question it.

“Think so, baby?” He teases while laying you down on your plush bed. Your parents are out for the night— perfect opportunity to make up for all the times you wanted him but couldn’t have him right there with you.

You hum in response. The calm before the storm, as your breathing picks up in the next few moments as Rafe trails down your body. Leaving hot kisses all over your skin that have you melting against your duvet. You’re too easy to mess with. He can get your pretty head spinning in seconds. 

“I wanna… try something tonight, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your chest, nosing at the neckline of your dress and your cleavage, “do you trust me?” 

Of course you trust him— more than anyone you’ve ever known. He’s your first love, after all.

As expected you’re completely stripped in the following moments. Rafe’s face is buried between your thighs for what must be an hour once he’s had his fill of kissing and teasing you enough to have you whining. Your whines become mewls in no time once he pins your knees to your chest and dives right in. Murmuring nonsense about how he could eat your sweet cunt for the rest of his life, prompting your face to burn and your legs to twitch.

His mouth is arguably the most dangerous thing about him.

He’s slick in the way he talks and greedy in the way he eats, making a mess of your cunt as you witness it all with tears brimming at your lash line from the pleasure every time he circles your clit. With his chin covered in your arousal that’s all over his tongue, too. You can taste yourself on him once he finally travels up your body, scooping the overstimulated mess that you are up in his strong arms to cradle.

“Ready for me, baby?” He grunts into your mouth, “Think you can take it right now?”

You feel the it in question pressing up on the plushness of your thigh through his jeans. The heat in your stomach nearly burns. Your hips buck in anticipation, and you feel Rafe grin against your cheek while you huff out a pathetic noise. And finally, you understand what he meant— what he wants to try— when he doesn’t bother to grab a condom after unbuckling his belt and freeing his cock.

“Rafey,” you begin, because you may be a bit hazy but you’re not that gone yet.

“Shhh, shhh. It’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he coaxes, pressing his forehead to yours while he stares into your glossy eyes. His own seems darker, something beyond lust pooling in his irises, “lemme feel this pretty pussy properly…”

You can’t really argue with that. Especially when you feel so empty, when there’s a dull ache between your thighs. You need him. And the “thank you, baby” he grunts out while he spreads your folds with the tip of his cock before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips makes it all worth it.

Along with the way he holds your waist as he fucks you, pressing sloppy kisses to your calves as your knees are hooked over his shoulders— “My pretty girl,” he groans down at you, watching your tits bounce in time with his thrusts while you struggle to say anything and claw at his forearms with baby pink nails. 

You’re creaming all over him, and the sight and feel of it all is even better now that there isn’t a condom in his fuckin’ way, as he says. It’s borderline numbing for both of you every time he fucks back into you, grinding your hips up against him with the grip he has on you in one swift movement each time. You can feel him so deep. He’s ruining your cunt for anyone else, not that they’d ever have a chance.

Because most importantly he’s going to make sure that you’re always by his side, and that your parents and his own will finally take him seriously. If he has to give you a baby to do that, then so be it— Rafe always has his motives.

The sun shines through your windows. However you’re not feeling very bright as Rafe looms over you, staring down at the pregnancy test in your lap. You sniffle not once but twice while wishing those two red lines would just go away.

That they would become one.

Rafe’s fingers find themselves tucked under your chin, tilting your head upwards so you’ll finally look at him. 

“You should be grateful, y’know…” He says simply, “I gave you what you always wanted.”

©BUNNYRAFE 2024

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter five — tricky plans & schemes (🎂)

"I'm not going to make it out of here alive if I see him."

The simple, yet harrowing sentence repeated constantly in your mind. It held you like an anchor while you were preparing the multiple long tables with sweets you baked last night purely with anxiety running through your body. It was a surprise that you haven't succumbed to a heart attack yet.

It was wide in the air with your freshly baked pastries, a soft mix of vanilla, cinnamon, and chocolate wafting through the air conditioned room. Each of the tables you filled was adorned with lacey and delicate cloths, each sweet arranged with your care. Rows of colorful tiny cakes and intricately designed cookies.

Your hands trembled placing the final touches on the tiny treats, exhaling once it was finally all done. You stepped back to admire your work, but you didn't know what it was about it that made you feel slightly bitter.

Behind your weaker smile, your eyes betrayed you with how much resentment was behind your eyes. Which turned into a small sadness for the fact; you didn't want to do this. It was a blessing that Ei could see how uncomfortable you were being in her wedding as an 'addition to the family', because you definitely weren't par to Kunikuzushi by any means.

Nor did you deserve to be beside anyone other than Kazuha. And even at the thought that something harrowing happened to him, you cracked under pressure to keep your mind from overthinking. That would mean that you'd forget about him entirely. You couldn't be happier about anything, extreme emotions would betray your memories of him.

Or...lack thereof?

Your jaw clenched, tears brimming your eyes which you quickly wiped away. There was nothing behind your eyes except the worry that all of this baking you were doing was for nothing. You didn't feel particularly excited to bake anymore, nor show anyone. It was like the spark that Kazuha gave you was missing, along with him.

A small sound broke through your thoughts, your eyes half-lidded as you slowly turned to see the only person you wish you didn't, following by a few other male voices fading and their tricky plans and schemes. His piercing eyes met yours, and for a moment, his unreadable expression almost made it seem like he was taking a moment to think before he speaks.

But your own expectations failed you once he scoffed, expression hardening. "Fucking hell, you're a disaster." He couldn't help but laugh, but purely from the misery he felt as he turned his back towards you to walk out.

But as soon as he was about to head out again, another visitor came through the door. This time in a stunning white dress, and in a frazzled state according to her expression. It was Yae Miko herself, presence a relief from the harrowing tension.

"Wow. Reunion, or what?" Yae asked, tilting her head, before giving a wave to you. "Hi, darling~"

You hesitantly waved back. "Hi! H..ow are you?"

The pink haired woman examined the room before she said anything else, and even the most braindead person in the world could see that there was nothing here except aversion. You awkwardly shimmied behind the table filled with sweets to keep your distance.

As Kuni was about to reply, Yae held her hand up. "Nope. Don't want to know. This is my day, I'll be back in business in four weeks."

His eyes dulled, patience clearly wearing thin. "You shouldn't even be here."

"Yeah, I shouldn't, right?" Yae crossed her arms over her chest. "But it'd be too much to ask for one peaceful day. Listen," She leaned in, closing the door behind her. "The cake is still at the shop. Our extremely useless deliverer quit before the wedding."

Your eyes perked up. "What?" You blurted out.

"It's my fault for relying on people outside of my own family to pick up a cake. Mind you, the cake isn't even ten minutes away." Yae's eyes rolled. "Typical for this country, full of dimwits. Can you two go get it?"

"Don't really feel like hearing your little political tirades right now. I'll get it, but they're for fucking sure not coming with me." Kuni pointed towards you, which made you flinch. "I'd rather die."

Yae could only sigh dramatically at his incessant whining. "You are both adults now; you can handle a simple task without killing someone."

"Easy for you to say on your wedding day, I don't ever plan on being pleasant to a rat," He snarled. "Fine. But don't expect it to be brought back in one piece with them in the car."

"Sorry. I'll... try my best." You said in a low tone, avoiding eye contact with either of the very confident figure.

Yae looked in between you and Kuni again before lifting her lips up to give a small look of bewilderment. "I guess it's too much to ask for some chivalry from you, Kuzu," She sighed before handing you the details. "Here's the address and a copy of the order. Just tell them I sent you, I'll be getting everything ready still."

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

taglist ☆ — @seternic @chemiru @coquettemaiden @1kio0o @emiixuu

@agaygothicmushroom @yomishen @jingyuan-wife-real @toruscorpse @whoooismkeee

@sketcheeee @st4r4ngel @xionri @scaradooche @lightyagamifan

@pwushizz @alatusorrow @eutopiastar @magica-ren @slu7

@vaxmpi @theyluvkatt @kyon-cherri @suzydarling @mimi3lover

@auroratumbles @vxcmx @yourfavoritefreakyhan @kunimylovee

@czerwka @little-honey-the-third @featuredtofu @simonisferal @justpeachyteastea

@liuaneee @skyoverkill1 @mellowberrie @lalalaloveallmydays @mostlymoth

@mtndewbajablasted @vernith @lovekeychains @danhenglovebot @elizshade

@balladeersflower @kazumiku @bananasquash @neversore @yevurin

@franaby @vicslz @kamiboo @thegalaxyisunfolding @morgyyyyyyy

@feikyuu @tamikahoshiko @kissingkzuha

[artdcnaldson]

looove the patrick’s sister au where art is super mean to her but hear me out im having thoughts and behaving in ways

im gonna emoji sign this if i may just in case you’d like to enable me

alt au where patricks sister is just super super mean and unapologetic like patrick. think sarah michelle gellar in cruel intentions kinda. like fully a bitch and she has a craaazy corruption kink with repressed art

like mayyybee patrick mentioned art wanting to save himself for marriage or smth like that to her and her brain goes brrrrrr i need to defile him… maybe everytime arts at their house she’ll like flirt with him unabashedly… suck on lollipops while looking him in the eye… rub her ass against him pretending to reach for things… and her just having so much fun when he gets all red and flustered and hard :(

idk just some thoughts

- 🐚 (if its available)

This made me need to take a walk. Had to crack open a cold Diet Coke to address this.

But yeah :(( art comes to stay with you and Patrick a lot for summers and holidays since, y’know, he can’t exactly stay at his grandmother’s nursing home.

You and Patrick have lived in the pool house forever— pool house is actually a stupid name for it. It’s a guest house, two full bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, a whole loft upstairs. It’s obscene how fucking rich you two are.

And he gets so squirmy when he’s around you and Patrick, but even more when it’s just the two of you alone. He’s been staying up in the loft, pads down the stairs after a lazy, midday nap. And it’s just you on the couch, watching a movie. It’s dark, maybe he slept later than he thought he did.

“Where’s Pat?”

You shrug, pat the sofa beside you. He sits, but leaves an entire cushion between the two of you. “I think he’s fucking the neighbor. The one with the cute curly hair.” Art flushes, ducks his head. You smile, showing off pretty teeth. “Aw… I’m sorry, should I have said he’s making love to the neighbor?”

“Shut up,” he mutters. He’s pink to the tips of his ears.

It’s interesting, you think, that he told Patrick he’s saving himself. It’s sweet, very… admirable. But it’s such a fucking waste. He looks so yummy in his flannel pajama pants and grey tank top that shows off his muscles.

“So, you’re a virgin?” You ask, turning to face him. His eyes go wide before his face twists in annoyance. He splutters out weak— what did Pat say— That’s none of your business— you’re so out of line— but you interrupt. “No need to be shy about it, Art. I think it’s… very cute you want to wait until your wedding night. I’m sure you’ll have a really riveting time figuring out where it goes.”

“Shut up.” It’s the second time he’s said it that night. He really needs to work on his comebacks.

“I can give you a hint,” you say with a grin, scooting across the empty cushion until your knees touch. “There are two main holes down there, and it’s the one that gets all slick and wet when she’s turned on.” He clenches his jaw, looks away.

You laugh and sit back, only slightly. “Aren’t you going to thank me for the tip?”

He turns back, eyes narrowed. “You’re not very funny.”

“Was I joking?” You trail a finger up his arm, give him a crooked smile. “Really, Art, it’s sweet. Maybe I should’ve saved my virginity for a nicer boy instead of losing it in the golf cart shed at the country club.”

He stammers. “You— you could always—“ he can’t even meet your gaze, it’s too humiliating. The smug expression you wear pins him in place. “Start now. Promise to not have sex anymore, not until it’s with someone you love. It’s— it’s more special that way.”

You stick out your bottom lip. “You think I deserve special?” You ask softly. He shivers as your fingers trace swirls onto his chest. “That I need candles and rose petals and soft jazz music when someone stuffs me full of their cock?”

It’s too precious. Too good. His cheeks flame and he sits back. He stands suddenly, doesn’t even look at you as he marches back upstairs. You grin and listen to the sound of the shower turning on upstairs.

You wait until you hear the scrape of the shower curtain closing to pad upstairs and sit outside of the door. A smug grin spreads across your lips at the sound of him jerking off.

All whiny, poorly muffled moans, the slick sound of him beating his dick. All, ah! ah! ah! oh, fuck! god— fuck! You can tell when he cums based on how pitchy and whiny he gets, and the way you hear his head knock against the tile.

You fight the urge to let him know you heard, instead you slip back downstairs. When he comes down, you’ve switched the movie, act like you’d never left at all. You can see the guilt in his expression, like he knew he’d done something bad.

God, he’d be so easy.

[swiftieblyth]

Mrs. Cameron: Chapter 1: Engagement

warnings- obx

“Hey, baby,” Rafe smiled, walking up to you at the country club.

“Hi, honey,” you smiled, sweetly smiling up at him, as he wrapped his arms around you, catching your lips in a quick kiss.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. I missed you.”

“Baby, I just saw you,” he smiled.

“It was like two hours ago,” you pouted, jutting your lip out, and looking up at him, making him chuckle, as he sat in the chair next to you.

“I was just out with boys, baby. I wasn’t far at all.”

“I know.” You smiled, leaning into his side. “You’re sweaty.”

“I know. I’m sorry, baby. It was really hot out there today. How about we go back to Tannyhill and I take a shower before our date?”

“That sounds great, Rafey.” You smiled.

🌊💰🌊

You got back to Tannyhill and walked hand and hand, into the house. “Hey, Y/N,” Rose smiled, as she saw you walk in with Rafe.

“Hi, Rose.” You smiled.

“Oh, incoming,” Rafe, mumbled, as he heard his youngest sister running in.

“Y/N!” Wheezie smiled, running up to you.

“Hey, Wheez,” you smiled, letting go of Rafe, and wrapping her up in a big hug. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Wheezie, don’t you have homework?” Rafe asked, trying to get you back all to himself.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she shrugged.

“How ‘bout I help you?” You asked.

“But, what about our date?” Rafe asked, a slight pout on his lips.

“It’s fine, Rafe. I’ll help her while you shower, then we can go on our date, okay?”

“Fine.” Rafe sighed.

“I love you,” you smiled, getting on your tiptoes and giving him a sweet kiss. 

“I love you too,” he mumbled.

“Okay, so what’s this homework, Wheez?”

🌊💰🌊

“Okay, so that means that the answer is b?” Wheezie asked.

“Yep, that’s right,” you smiled, just then you felt arms wrapping around your chest. You looked up and saw your boyfriend standing behind you, though he was looking at you, you could see the distant look in his eyes.

“Hi, Rafey.”

“Hi, baby. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

🌊💰🌊

“You okay?” You asked, sitting in his truck as he was pulling into the parking lot.

“What?” He asked, knocking out of the daze he was trapped in.

“Was it your dad again?” You asked, resting a hand on his thigh as he softly nodded. “What now?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he let out, putting the car in park. “Let’s just go enjoy our night.”

“Rafey,” you pressed, seeing the tears in his eyes.

“Please?” He begged, his voice shaking as a tear fell.

“Oh, my poor baby,” you let out, feeling your heartbreak as you pulled to your chest, holding him in his arms. “Did he hit you again?”

“Not this time,” he choked, crying into your chest.

“Then what happened, baby?” You asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” he let out, pulling away and trying to look presentable. “We’re gonna be late.”

“Hey, look at me,” you let out, cupping his face in your hands. “Look at me baby. We have all the time. Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just the same stuff.” He let out. “I just want to make him proud, Y/N. I just want him to love me.” “I know. I know baby. I’m sure he loves you, he just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“No, he doesn’t. And he’s not proud of me.”

“Well that’s his mistake, baby. I love you so much, and I am so proud of you. You’re my favorite person on earth. You know that right?”

“I love you, baby.” He let out, falling back into your chest.

🌊💰🌊

“Thank you,” Rafe let out as the two of you were walking on the beach, watching the sunset.

“For what, baby?”

“For always being there for me. For loving me. I don’t deserve it. I’m sure I’m hard to love. Yet you’re still here, and you still love me.”

“Rafey, are you kidding?” You asked, looking up at him. “You are not hard to love. You make it so easy. I love you so much baby, and you do deserve it. You deserve every good thing that comes your way. And I love you more than you could ever know.”

“Marry me?” he asked, looking down at you.

“One day, Rafey,” you laughed. “Besides, our wedding’s been planned to happen since we were kids.”

“I mean marry me now?” He asked, getting down on one knee.

“Rafe?” You gasped, tears coming to your eyes. “Are you kidding?”

“I’m not honey. Darling, I want to marry you right now. I love you so much.”

“But aren’t we too young?”

“Who cares? Screw that. I don’t care if we’re young or not because I love you, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Besides, it’s not like it really matters because our parents are going to have us get married anyway. So what do you say baby. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You yelled, getting down and jumping on him, knocking him to the sand, kissing his lips. He let out a small groan as he landed on the sand, but continued to kiss you.

“You gotta let me put the ring on, baby,” he laughed, pulling away.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed as you watched Rafe put the ring on your finger. “You know this is really gonna piss them off.”

“Then that's just another good reason to do it.” He smiled, get them back at their own game.

“Gosh, I love you, Rafe Cameron.”

🌊💰🌊

“You’re getting married?” Sarah and Wheezie said in unison as you and Rafe broke the news to your families. 

“We’re getting married!” You smiled, sitting on the couch holding Rafes arm tightly waiting for your parents' reactions.

“This is the best day of my life!” Wheezie yelled, jumping into your arms, making you laugh. “You’re like officially gonna be my sister! I mean you’ve always been like my sister, but now it’s official! When’s the wedding? Where are you two going to live, will I be able to come visit?” “Wheeze, Sarah,” Ward cut in, making you tense as Wheezie pulled out of your arms. “Why don’t you guys give the adults a moment to talk?”

“But Dad,” Wheezie started.

“Come on, Wheeze,” Sarah let out, grabbing Wheezie’s hand. “Rafe and Y/N need to talk to the parents.”

“You’re getting married?” Your mother asked, the second Sarah and Wheezie left the room.

“Yes,” you let out, trying not to show your nerves.

“This is insane!” Ward cut in. “Do you understand how big of a deal this is? You two are just kids!”

“We’re adults Dad!” Rafe let out.

“No,” Rose cut in. “19 is barely an adult.”

“But we can legally get married,” you explained, looking at your parents with pleading looks.

“What makes you think this is such a good idea?” You dad asked.

“Because we love each other, sir.” Rafe explained, gingerly lacing your finger together.

“Just because you love each other doesn’t mean you can just run off and get married just because it’s legal.” Ward cut in.

“Well it doesn’t really matter Dad!” Rafe yelled, standing up, getting close to his father. “It doesn’t matter because you arranged for our marriage when we were just kids, so whether we love each other or not it doesn’t matter because the four of you are going to make us get married anyways!”

“Rafe,” you breathed, not wanting this to escalate.

“You’re just pissed that Y/N and I actually love each other, because you don’t care if we love each other or not, you just want what's best for you and your reputation, so of course you’re pissed that we want to get married now, because it would look bad on you! But the great Ward Cameron can’t afford to have that! He can’t afford to have his son disappoint him again, to make him look like an embarrassment! But guess what Dad, that seems to be all I ever do!”

“Rafe,” you let out, grabbing his hand.

“You’re high right now, aren't you, Rafe?” Ward asked.

“No, Dad!” Rafe yelled, at this point you weren't going to stop Rafe, because you wanted to punch Ward too for what he just said. “And if you even cared you would have noticed then I’ve been clean for a year now all because of Y/N!”

“Okay, how about we all just calm down,” your mother let out. 

“I think that’s a really good idea,” Rose let out, as you and Rafe sat down. You could feel just how tense he was and held his arm, rubbing your hand up and down to try and calm him. 

“I understand where you kids are coming from about it not really mattering because you two are arranged,” your dad let out. “But have you really thought all of this through?”

“Yes sir,” Rafe explained. “I love Y/N so much, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I know that we’re young, but I just know this is right. Sir, your daughter has been the best part of my life, and she has helped me through so much, and if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be sober. Sir, please, I promise to love and protect her for the rest of my life, and to do her right and treat her well, sir. May I please have your blessing to marry your daughter?”

“You two are going to do it no matter what we say, aren’t you?” Your father asked.

“Yes sir,” you cut in. “Besides, it's not like you can really say anything. You and Mom did the same thing when you were 18.”

“Well, she does have a point there,” your mom smiled, giving you a wink.

“Okay, so if you two really do this then where would you two even live?”

“I don’t know that yet sir, but I promise to find the perfect place for your daughter.”

“They can stay at Tannyhill.” Ward let out, making everyone look at him in shock.  

“What?” Rose asked, standing up, looking ready to revolt. “They’re going to be staying at Tannyhill?”

“Why not?” Ward explained. “Rafe already has his own wing of the house practically. Besides Y/N’s over all the time, so it won’t be like anything changes.”

“Are you sure about this Ward?” Your dad asked.

“I’m sure, Scott. If the two are going to get married anyways that might as well have our blessings and a place to stay.”

🌊💰🌊

Wedding day

“Wake up!” Wheezie yelled, running in your room and jumping on top of you.

“Off,” you groaned, fluttering your eyes open. “Wheeze, what time is it?”

“It’s like 9!” She let out, laying down next to you. “Come on! It’s your wedding day, it’s time to get up!”

“Oh my gosh it’s today!” You smiled, bolting up and checking your phone. You opened it and saw a text from Rafe.

Rafe-

Hey baby, I miss you already! I can’t believe we’re getting married today! I can’t wait to see you walking down the aisle this evening! You’re already so beautiful and I’m sure that dress you picked is magnificent and I can’t wait to see it my love! I love you more than you ever know, and much more than I could ever say. I can’t wait to be husband and wife tonight! Counting down the seconds until I see you and make you my wife! I love you 

You couldn’t help but smile a school girl crush giddy smile as you read the text.

“Gross,” Wheezie groaned. “Did my brother text you?”

“He did.” You smiled, looking down at the girl laying next to you. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, honey. I’m about to move in with you,” you smiled.

“I know! I can’t wait! Just don’t do anything gross while I’m around.”

“And what would you count as gross?” You asked, rolling on your side to get a good look at your soon to be sister-in-law.

“I don’t know. Just like anything, all lovey dovey and stuff.” 

[shanastoryteller]

Happy lovers season Shana! I'm very excited for the upcoming prompts! 😀 Can I please request some more Enola Holmes or Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries? 💚 If not please feel free to do a dealer's choice. I love all that you write and it fills me with joy to see new updates from you 😊

set in the same universe as Here is Your Home Country

Dot doesn’t want a big wedding, doesn’t want a lot of fuss. Married at her church, and then Prudence has offered to have the reception in her garden. Probably more at Jane’s insistence than anything else, but considering Mr. Butler has already insisted on handling the catering and logistics and anything else she might need assistance with, she might as well.

It’s sweet of him, really. She knows that he’s worried about her sisters that disapprove and her mother that disapproves and her brothers that had been apocalyptic at the news, and how that means she’ll be planning this wedding without them. She’s not worried. They’d never cared about her life or her happiness until it was something that would embarrass them.

The less said about what her friends from church think, the better. But she hasn’t headed their gossip for years, not since she started working for Miss Fisher.

Jack’s a good man and doesn’t deserve their ire. She won’t tolerate it.

~

“You’re really doing it, huh?”

Dot looks up and feels first pleasure then wariness that settles on a gut rolling mixture of the two. “Hello, Nell.”

Her older sister is standing over her, blocking her light, but she just closes her notebook and uses her foot to nudge the chair opposite her. The waiter should be by again soon.

She looks different out of the heavy makeup and light clothes of the club. Wearing a sweater and long skirt, she looks like the sister Dot remembers. “Mum called me. Me.”

Dot winces. “You’re invited, of course, I just wasn’t sure where to send the invite.”

Nell leans back in her chair, raising an eyebrow and reaching into her purse for a cigarette. Dot wishes she wouldn’t. She hates the smell. “I didn’t really get that impression from you two.”

“We were just colleagues then,” she says, which isn’t completely accurate, but neither is friends. Or perhaps it is. They knew one another then, and respected each other, and were kind to one another. But she’d had Hugh, and Jack’s eyes had been on Miss Fisher, and – they hadn’t known, then, where they would end up.

It’s nice.

She knew him and liked him and cared about him before she loved him. It makes her feel like she can trust him, that he won’t surprise her in a way she doesn’t like.

Nell hums, then says, “She wants to know if you’re having money troubles.”

Dot stares, wishing she knew her mother a little less well and didn’t understand exactly what she was saying. “She thinks I’m marrying Jack for his money because I have gambling debts?”

She shrugs. “You know what she sees at the church.”

She’s not going to get angry. Getting angry won’t do her any good. “I’m marrying him because I love him.”

“You loved Hugh,” she says. “He was cute. Your age. He even converted.”

Part of her wonders who was keeping Nell updated on the gossip of her life. The rest of her doesn’t care. “He didn’t love me right.”

“There’s a wrong way?” she asks, too lightly.

“Yes,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from scowling. “And I can’t love anyone right who loves me wrong. Hugh and I would have been miserable, in the end. We were in love with people that didn’t exist.”

She’d wanted someone who would love her through all of her changes.

Hugh had wanted someone who would never change.

Even in her bitterest moments, she can’t truly blame him. She had been a static woman when they’d met. She was the one that changed and she was the one that had wanted someone who would love her anyway and she was the one that had ended their engagement when she’d realized that someone wasn’t him.

Nell leans forward to steal her half-drunk cup of coffee, leaning back as she gulps it down in three long swallows. “Okay. I’ll tell Mum to back off, yeah? Not that it’ll do any good. She never listens to me anyway.”

“Oh,” Dot says, startled, and then Nell is getting to her feet and waving as she melts back into the crowd of the street.

~

Bert and Cec are in their room, sleeping after working through the night. Jack is over, but he’s never not known, and these days they don’t even bother to shove their twin beds apart when he's here.

She’s seated on her knees at the coffee table, Jack sitting behind her on the couch, nose buried in a case file that she’s going to look over herself as soon as she figures out this seating chart.

Jack clears his throat and she leans back, pressing her back to his knees and looking up. The file has been discarded and he’s looking at her with a sort of warm softness that has her reaching out her hand and letting him haul her upright just enough so that she can fall into his lap, seated sideways so her legs are stretched out over the couch.

His arms come around her waist and his lips quirk up in an almost smile. She smooths out the line between his eyebrows with her thumb, almost asks, but know it’s a waste when he’s nearly there already.

Sure enough, he looks at the space over her head and asks, “Do you want us to get a new house?”

She blinks. She hadn’t considered it, really, had assumed that she’d move into the house Jack has now. She’s been there. It’s a very nice house. A little empty feeling, perhaps, but she figured they’d solve that quickly enough. Instead of saying any of that, she asks, “Do you want me to want us to get a new house?”

He looks at her then, exasperated, and she smiles, shifting her hand lower to trace his bottom lip. He licks his lips, his tongue barely brushing her fingertip, and her breath hitches, but he says, “Rosie picked it.”

It makes sense that his first wife helped pick the house, and Dot has never tiptoed her way around Rosie, but that’s not quite what he’s saying.

Rosie picked it.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

Jack shrugs, looking away from her again. “She made a good choice.”

“Yes,” Dot agrees. It really is a very nice house, in a good area. “But do you like it?”

He shifts beneath her, meeting her gaze when he admits, “I let her pick what she wanted. I thought things would be okay, if I could give her what she wanted.”

And now it reminds him of how much that didn’t work, how she left that house and him both. He’d offered her the house in the divorce, but she hadn’t wanted it, for her own reasons.

“Why don’t we pick something we both want?” she asks, because no matter how nice the house is, she doesn’t want what he doesn’t’. “I bet Mac has some good leads on houses that are going to be on the market. She knows so many useful things like that.”

“Yeah?” he asks, relief making his whole body relax even as his arms tighten, tugging her that much closer against him.

“Yeah,” she echoes, then dips down her head for a kiss he’s eager to give her.

[ronearoundblindly]

The Right Partner (2/3)

Steve Rogers x lab tech!Reader

Take My Whole Life, Too, Part One (see previous or series)

Summary: Your honeymoon with Steve Rogers begins.

Warnings for vague smut (don't worry, I make up for it in pt2), cuteass!Steeb being extra, unrealistic adorable sh*t, and my complete lack of shame about it. MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist instead, but this one isn't for you! WC 3.1k

It’s bright and loud.

Well, there is light—a pale blue that gnaws at your heavy eyelids—and the song of birds.

The birds are, frankly, irrationally aggressive even for late morning.

You groan and turn over toward the inside of the tent, hoping for an hour more of darkness, maybe two.

Dehydrated. That’s what this heavy, sluggish feeling is. You should have had twice the water you managed to drink yesterday. No one would fault you for having other priorities on your wedding day though.

Your fingers branch out to find the bed empty.

From your exposed shoulder beyond the comforter, you gauge it is quite chilly here wherever you are. You didn’t even ask Steve if he found out what state (or country) you two landed in. Who cares? You burrow deeper, peeking over the thick quilted seam to see—

“What are you doing?”

Steve’s back is to you when you hear a metallic clatter in the utility sink. He whips around in just his boxers, raising a hand to cover his mouth and garble out “nothing.”

You’re prone and below eye level to the countertop, so you sit up to look while Steve poorly hides his sin by leaning over the surface.

He swallows heavily.

“You want some tea,” he rushes to ask in a failingly casual tone. “I’ve got water heating.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” you jump up to stand on the mattress, knocking your head against the springy ceiling, and step down. “Are you eating our wedding cake without me?”

“You wouldn’t even give me some yesterday,” he whines, placing himself protectively between your approach and the confection. His guilty brows raise with sincerity.

“Oh, please! You got cake, and then you—” you poke his bare chest, glancing at the now quarter-demolished top tier “—you complained it wasn’t your flavor!”

“But…” Steve simply points. No other words come to mind based on his still-stunned expression.

“Fine,” you chuckle, relaxing to stretch your large sweater over your chilled hands and thighs, “I won’t tell anyone you’re nothing but a little sweets-thief. Hot tea sounds lovely though.”

“Allow me,” he smiles and leans in for a kiss, tasting of sugar and lemon like the night you got engaged, the night you first…oof. After just one reminder, the sweater is suddenly plenty warm.

“Thank you.”

The flood of mental images rushes from your brain, down your body, to your full bladder.

Next stop: the bathroom.

While he sorts out your morning boost, you chug a bottle of water to help with the rough, sluggish feeling weighing on you. No soreness though, which is good.

Steve returns triumphant with a camping mug and steeping, steaming wakeup juice, and you give him your own soft peck on his cheek.

No doubt he continues his dessert for breakfast the instant you step out to use the facilities aboard the jet. Good, he deserves all the cake, as much as he wants, whenever he wants.

The tiny mirror isn’t as scary as you thought it would be, but you do have to rummage around for a few straggling hairpins. A splash of cool water on your face just before you emerge is more refreshing than expected, too. The day is fresh, you are fresh, and your marriage is fresh.

You cradle the mug in your palms, making to leave, when your gown catches your eye hanging at the locker closest to the ramp, right beside Steve’s uniform.

Yesterday feels like the most wonderful, blinding blur.

All the military men (and women) wore their first uniforms, and you have to admit it created a sharp-looking bunch. Geeta’s uniform was only from nine years ago, Wilson’s just over fifteen, Rhodes’s nearly thirty, and of course, Steve and Bucky’s come in at eighty years old. Not shockingly, their uniforms were replicas, but the boys were very picky about the details.

Gracie, Natasha, Ro, Pepper, Tony and Bruce all kept their fancy dress within the same neutral palette. Morgan and Felicity were flower (leaf) girls. Standing at the alter as a bride, a groom, and their ‘besties,’ you amassed a punk, a jerk, a nerd, and a Booboo.

Your subdued red, white, and blue gown made the boldest statement of the day.

You were so worried yesterday morning. You thought the statement would read as if you were devoting yourself to an ideal, harping that you are in some ways ‘Misses America,’ but it’s more than that. You didn’t want to walk down that aisle and sign over who you are, to belong to someone else, even someone as magnificent as Steve Rogers.

Then you saw his face.

That man belongs to you as much as you belong to him. The look of pure, undiluted, delighted adoration nearly knocked you over. You’re lucky you made it through your vows. You melted inside to help your poor, fumbling Sketch with his own speech. Bucky winked once you finally got his buddy to the important bit.

Then that kiss.

Gosh, all this time you thought maybe the desperate heat of your first kiss in an evacuated AvIn hallway couldn’t be recreated—much less topped—but you were wrong. The boning in your bodice is the real hero, that’s for sure. Girl’s gotta have good support when it counts.

Speaking of being weak for a man, you think, sipping at hot tea, better get back in there. That, plus your legs are freezing.

A polaroid snaps the instant you cross the zip-up threshold, along with praises of your beauty. You blink rapidly but smile.

“What’s that?”

“Your wedding present,” Steve beams. He fakes a frown at your following ‘we weren’t doing presents’ look. “Not big ones. They’re just for fun.”

He picks up another Canon film camera, a hefty black and silver thing from his hard-sided suitcase, and hands it to you.

“Thought they’d be nice for the trip.”

You weigh it in your hands, eye the Polaroid, then switch with Steve.

“That one’s more of an artsy-fartsy Sketch thing,” you say, stepping around him with your new toy, rushing to grab toasty sweatpants from your own bag.

As you bend over to pull out the garment though, you hear a mechanical click and whip around.

Steve still faces away from you, but his head is slightly turned and he softly whistles, so of course, you lift your Polaroid and snap a picture of his ass, too. He wrinkles his nose, looking over his shoulder with an unhidden smile. You shake out the photo card provocatively while he suits up for the fireside in a sweater and jeans.

He glances at the developed shot and, seeming satisfied, plants one more kiss on your forehead.

He hums as he holds up his picture of you entering the tent, thumb tracing the line of your hip exposed like it was on the glossy magazine pages after your bear debacle.

“Yes, ‘m out there distracting all the wild animals,” you joke.

“It’s working,” he mutters. “Hungry, Misses Rogers?”

Yeah, you think, but you’ll need fewer clothes again. Instead, your stomach gurgles in response.

“Why? Do I finally get some cake?”

“Just a taste.” He kisses your lips, which you lick immediately after. “But I was thinking more like eggs. The fire’s ready.”

Your stomach growls louder. “Shhh, peanut gallery.”

Steve puts a hand over your stomach, chuckling. “At least she’s honest.”

The light pressure of his wide palm lingers even when he steps out to the camp ground. It triggers a potent flash of life with him.

You’ve spoken about kids and it will happen (or at least you’ll try) in due course, but he’s come home from missions with doubts about bringing children up in this world. What matters to both of you is having each other, and you know he’d be enough good and love for your lifetime. Even though you can always revisit the issue, that deep flutter ravages your gut while you watch him cook breakfast.

With another hunger pang, you remember how your stomach voicing her opinion is one of the reasons you’re together. One, solitary growl started the first real night of hanging out with Steve. Without it, he wouldn’t have shared a leftover meal (and cake—hint, hint, buddy), he wouldn’t have let you in his apartment, he wouldn’t have driven you and your car home the next morning, and he wouldn’t have given you some of his own clothes to wear.

You pull the sleeves of his sweater over your chilling hands and bury your nose in the fabric, inhaling deeply.

You wonder which one of those incidental, accidental moments was the tipping point, whether removing just one experience of you would have stopped Steve from seeing you, stopped him from loving you.

After a while, you pick up the polaroid. You can see his ease through the lens. Steve is in his element, chatting away while preparing a meal, planning what you two can do together next, complimenting how you look in his sweatpants and meaning it so profusely that his eyes light up whenever he looks your way.

You thought you caught it on camera, all of him, all of his happiness, but the shot isn’t close enough to do it justice. Your heart will just have to remember.

Yes, Steve Rogers on his own is more than enough. He is the gift. He’s your treasure.

You can’t decide what you want to do next, but a strong shiver running through you gives a hint: get warm.

Eggs are a good start.

When the food is done, Steve refills your tea and makes his own.

You snuggle up into the covers of the bed again, leaning your head into the dip of Steve’s sternum, using your furnace husband to full effect. The birds aren’t so annoying now. The air is so crisp and refreshing, laced with the smell of Steve’s skin. The rise and fall of his chest is so soothing as you sip and ponder the future.

Steve fiddles with the dials on the vintage camera above you. That’s the last thing you remember before waking up again, this time wrapped in his warm, toasty arms.

For once, he hasn’t woken up yet. He’s stretched, out-cold and perfectly content, unmoving as you wiggle out of the covers.

He never rests in the middle of the day, so you have to capture his sleepy form, eyes still tucked beneath the comforter, keeping the light out for just a little longer. He’s so beautiful.

Your husband is so beautiful.

Steve desperately wants to take the wedding presents for a spin out in the woods, so the afternoon is entirely consumed by a hike.

The Polaroid makes too much noise for wildlife and can’t focus on the tinier details among the branches and leaves, so you settle for jotting down some fanciful descriptions that come to mind and watch him sneak closer to birds, bugs, and color-changing foliage.

He gets so distracted with excitement that you two walk much farther than intended. Steve insists on carrying you the last few miles of your return, and you spend the entire piggyback ride with your chin tucked over his shoulder, your cheek against his neck, quietly discussing what you’d like to change in your lives now that you’re officially married.

Nothing. The answer is nothing.

Nothing needs to change because you two are the exact same people as forty-eight hours ago. Perhaps the rings on your fingers mean more for your life, but they just transmuted the love already in existence to matter.

Steve’s bright blue eyes go dreamy with philosophizing.

Your husband is beautiful, smelling of fresh air and optimism.

Steve refuses to miss another sunset, so you two lay in the hammock before lighting your evening fire.

You snuggle and chat, teasing each other, telling stories. You watch the Milky Way bloom to life above you.

Something Steve never figured out was how the Team knew about his plan to propose. He’s been going over it and over it, but he can’t see where he gave himself away. Steve says, when he asked Bucky yesterday in the men’s ready room, Bucky smirked.

Apparently, Steve, only once while you two dated, told his friend “there’s an order to these things,” and that was enough. Buck knew Steve’s intentions immediately, watching for the signs, the clues. Everyone understands that for a long time now Steve has resented his birthday is a holiday—not in a disrespectful way, but it annoys him that the day is already a big, loud affair,—and the whole group guessed (correctly) Steve would rather replace the symbolism with his own meaning.

“And hey,” Steve rumbles, faking Tony’s nonchalance as he quotes the billionaire playboy, “if you chickened out, fireworks are fireworks.”

His added shrug for effect shifts you and rocks the dangling net.

“Almost did, didn’t you?” you chuckle. “Chicken out?”

Your husband’s whole body tweaks harshly.

“You know I was scared shitless, Keeps! Almost fainted.”

“Or at least fell off your one knee…”

His hands fly up to scrub at his stubbled face, pinning you. “Oh! It was so bad,” he groans.

You sit up carefully in the wobbly fabric of the hammock, barely suppressing more laughter, and pound a flat palm at his chest. “It’s ok, soldier. You got the job done. We got there in the end.”

Steve’s hand covers yours, his peaceful smile glowing in the soft starlight.

He reaches to cradle your cheek, sweeping a delicately callused thumb over your skin.

“I almost can’t believe it,” Steve says quietly.

“Believe what?”

He could mean the beauty of the sky, or that Tony knocked it out of the park with your escape of a honeymoon, or that he didn’t croak instead of getting through all those mental and physical hurtles to be with you. You’re just not sure. Personally, you’ve ‘almost not believed it’ since the Captain America started talking to you, so it’s hard to judge.

Steve doesn’t answer right away. His voice grows even softer. “Happy. That’s all.”

Your heart breaks and mends in an instant.

“You can’t believe you’re happy?”

He goes shy, ducking then raising his gaze even higher towards the treetops. He clears his throat before admitting, “I lead…an unusual life. Not many would want this.”

“I dunno. Seems pretty nice to me,” you giggle.

“Yes, but—“ he pulls you into his chest and squeezes “—I get no guarantees. Not like others. We couldn’t even set a date. We could have been waiting years to get married.”

It’s your turn to shrug.

“You got something else to do?”

“No,” he sighs, “just more of this.” He nudges your body closer and closer to his, until all your arms and legs are tangled together. “As much as possible. I only meant…I love you.

“I love you, and I don’t think I had any faith left that I would find you.”

You. Not someone like you. Not someone for him.

You.

Even without a fire, even without sunlight, even without shelter surrounding you, Steve provides everything you could ever need: heat, comfort, safety. He provides, and it’s only right that he should have the favor returned.

Happiness. That’s what this is. Happiness that wasn’t guaranteed. Happiness that wasn’t expected. Happiness that was hard-earned.

Your muscles shiver and your skin tingles, all with need of him. “Sweetheart,” you whisper, clawing at his sweater.

He knows. He sees. He feels it, too.

When Steve lunges to kiss you though, the hammock swings with your combined weight and tries to topple you.

You giggle and squeal, flipping out and onto the ground with zero grace, and he follows.

Steve crawls over you, starlight and the glow from the tent painting his face in primary colors.

“Here, Mrs. Rogers?” He fakes shock. “In the dirt?”

“You fucked me on that picnic table just last night,” you joke, a dark, taunting edge to your voice which he matches.

Steve leans in again. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

He holds your gaze, his focus flickering to your lips while the crickets’ song roars around you.

It sounds silly after all you’ve done to get Steve out of his shell, but what you crave most in this moment is the familiar, traditional love-making that he offers best. His tenderness leads you on a merry dance not unlike long wilderness walks. He’s consumed by discovery and attention to how you feel in that very second. To him, you change as frequently as the landscape. He yearns to explore what’s the same, what’s new.

Steve never phones-in sex. He never just goes through the motions. Somehow, he makes an art of reevaluating your body, your pleasure, each and every time. He’s the proof vanilla is an infinite flavor.

But…

That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the chase.

Steve is leaning in to kiss you when your knee raises to his chest, halting his progress. You bite your lip and scramble to the ‘door’ of the tent. Obviously, he lets you win because he could easily have snatched you into his grasp.

Steve’s laugh stays close, but he follows all the way to the bed.

There’s something to be said about a good ol’ fashioned undressing, garment by garment, that dance of who leads and how much they touch the other as each piece of clothing falls away. Steve’s become a very good dancer.

Nothing is rushed. Nothing is missed.

He doesn’t combine the acts of maneuvering you and dragging open mouth kisses along your skin. He moves you, and then he lingers.

Time spent mapping you is time well spent to Steve Rogers.

You’re drunk on him. High on him. It’s an out-of-body experience that has you watching his broad back curve sharply while he thrusts and traces your collarbone with his tongue, noticing your toes seize up from force of your first orgasm, and admiring how fine his ringed finger looks laced in with yours and pinned over your head.

No one leaves the tent. The evening fire never gets started.

After a long and sweaty fuck in the bed, you’re filthy, gathering food for Steve who’s hungry, following you around with wipes. It’s comical how thoroughly you try to take care of each other.

No. Sit still. No. Let me just grab this. No. Fine. Together?

You two finish the top tier of cake after cleaning off…because Steve Rogers is the most stubborn, beautiful, and optimistic husband.

[Next Part]

[Main Masterlist; Fools Rush In Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[gulnarsultan]

i was hoping you could write about King Henry VIII, Thomas Boleyn and Edward Seymour with a very dreamy wife? like, dreamy in so many aspects. like they look like they jumped out of a painting, or they could look identical to some figures they've seen in paintings. and their voice would be very calming too, quiet but clear....like s/o is basically angelic and all that and their presence feels surreal to them

Hello dear. I hope you like it. I am writing this request based on the fact that all three men really love your reader. Because I don't want to hurt such a sweet person in my scenarios.

Henry viii Tudor

Henry remembers the stories told to him when he was a little boy. However, he never guessed that his wife would be an angel. Her voice was like the most calming music in the world. Her touch, her smile and the aura she spread around her. When they were newly married, Henry thought that his wife was just shy. However, as a few years passed, he realized that his wife did not act like this because she was shy.

She was a protective and guiding angel to everyone around her. The young Queen was the most beloved person in the Kingdom because of her personality. Whether it was the nobles, the common people or the people of other countries, they worshiped the Queen. Even the jealous and evil-hearted people were ashamed to gossip badly about the Queen after a while. There were many nicknames for the Queen. Angel sent by God, good-hearted Princess, saint, light in the darkness and other nicknames. Henry would not trade sleeping in his bedroom, in his wife's arms, listening to her sing to him at night after doing his royal duties all day.

Thomas Boelyn

To be honest, Thomas had never imagined such an angelic woman in his life. At first, he thought that when the two of them had a son, his wife would change. However, contrary to what he thought, even though they had 7 children together, his wife's personality and attitude never changed. Thomas actually believed that his wife was not human. She was an angel who had fallen into such darkness and disgust. So that was what Thomas thought.

His wife's sweet smile and the fact that she welcomed him with open arms every time he returned home were a blessing for Thomas. He always prayed sincerely that the intrigues and evils of the palace and real life would not reach his wife. Because even if he did not dare to say it out loud, Thomas wanted his wife to always stay like this. Sometimes, on nights when he could not sleep, he wondered why he deserved an angel like his wife.

Edward Seymour

Edward met and married his wife through his sister Queen Jane. Edward had listened to his sister Jane talk about how otherworldly and angelic the reader was many times. At first, he refused to believe it. After all, living among the courtiers created certain prejudices in a person. After the wedding, he always observed his wife.

In the end, he insisted on proving that there was a devil hiding under his wife's angelic image. But no matter how much he tried or observed, it never happened. He finally accepted that his wife was actually an angel. Listening to his wife sing or read a book was like a reward for Edward. Every touch his sweet angel gave him touched Edward's soul.

[bluejutdae]

Prince Felix thoughts

🫶 this is for you

• Prince Lee Felix, son of King Minho, raised at court.

• he’s always polite and kind to whoever works at the castle and be’s knows n as the “fairy Prince” or the “kind Prince” because of his beauty and behavior

• you two meet the day of your arranged marriage. Sometimes politics is too strong to be challenged, so you meet on the altar, both nervous but both set on fulfilling your commitment.

• the wedding ceremony goes smoothly and you’re surprised at how gorgeous pretty he is in real life. Photos haven’t been photoshopped and portraits didn’t need to pass under the strict editing of the royals, he really looks like a Fairy Prince, the name deserved. You only hope that’s the only characteristic akin to fairies, seen their ability to manipulate words to avoid saying the truth.

• what you fear the most is the wedding night, you’re not a virgin, but you heard nightmarish stories about Kings and Princes forcing themselves on their spouses. Felix proves (again and again) to be a good man. He walks you to your rooms and with a gracious bow he wishes you good night and leaves you alone to get ready for bed. It’s the same the night after, and the one after that, and so on.

• you two spend your days together, he helps you getting aquatinted to the castle, the court and their customs. And in the meantime he tries to get to know you. He has infinite questions about you: your favorite colors, food you like, where would you like to travel to, your hobbies and passions, which ice cream flavor you prefer, your shoe size and so on…

• you’re married for a month but you never kissed, except for your chaste wedding kiss. He’s not shy with his affection, though. He often reaches to fix your hair, to remove lint from your shoulder or he simply squeezes your hand quickly when you say something that makes him laugh. God, his laugh is so cute and real. It’s been a month but you already have feeling for your husband.

• physical affection is not the only thing he offers. He gives you gift after gift. Sometimes it’s something as simple as a flower picked during a walk in the gardens, a sweet he knows you like from a bakery in town; others, it’s fancy things: he gifted you ruby earrings, a pearl necklace, a collection of rare books, a ball gown with real diamonds on the corset.

• you often try to reciprocate his gifts and attentions, but it almost seems like he prefers giving more than receiving. He’s always happy to receive something from you. And even if you don’t know, he safeguards everything you ever gave him like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Included the origami flower you made once.

• one of the things that make you both happy is your complicity. You become friends, talking about everything and laughing together. Your nightly runs in the kitchen get habitual, mostly after a day you couldn’t spend together. You talk and he bakes, or he talks and you cook. It’s your way to decompress and being able to do it together is the most importantly thing.

• Minho starts to call for numerous balls. So many balls. You have now more ball gowns than you ever though was possible. Felix says it’s weird how often there is a ball at Court, maybe it’s Minho’s way to court someone? Did he meet someone he’s interested in? But after every ball, Minho roll his eyes when he gets info on you still sleeping in different rooms. Does he have to step up his game?

• Luckily he doesn’t have to. The next ball has many dignitaries from other countries as guests and one of them, a tall and handsome guy, asks for a dance. You accept because it’s part of your role, but when he holds a bit too tight and shuffles his hands a little too close to where he shouldn’t, you look around, trying to find your husband’s eyes in a silent ask for help. You don’t have to search for long because he’s already behind you, politely but firmly asking to dance with you. You relax in his arms, but he’s still tense. “Felix, I’m fine. He was just too-“

• “I’m not fine”. He never speaks in this tone, furious and clenching his jaw. “No one gets to touch my wife like that.” His gaze is fixed on you, and after month you finally realized you’re not the only one having feelings. Not caring of rules and appearances you grab him by his hand and guide him to a less crowded room to kiss him. The kiss is messy and hungry, but you both need to communicate too many things with it. Surprisingly, Minho doesn’t want so many balls anymore…

• your first night together ends with you both submerged in a warm bubble bath (thank god for rich royals who can afford spacious bathtubs), cuddling and tracing shapes on each other’s body. His neck and chest are littered with marks, the rest of them are covered by the water, but you know they’re there.

• he insists on having a serious conversation about what this means, how to navigate being in love with you wife once you’re already married. You decide on at least a weekly date outside of the castle, just the two of you. You talk all night and when you fall asleep, just when the sun is rising, it’s one in the other’s embrace…

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Epilogue

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

Epilogue: That Most Presumptuous Of All Things

“You look so handsome,” you tell Frank, smoothing his suit jacket, straightening the little cluster of white flowers in his lapel. He smiles down at you, that warmth shining in his dark eyes that you know is just for you. Even after all these years, it still gives you butterflies. 

His boutonniere matches the baby’s breath braided into your hair. 

All these years later, the two of you are finding yourselves at yet another destination wedding in wine country. 

This time, you’re not half so annoyed about the presumptuous inconvenience. 

This time, the guest list numbers two: him, and you. 

No one was more surprised than you, a few months ago, when in the middle of dinner on a normal weeknight he set a river rock down in front of your plate of chicken carbonara that simply read, “Marry me?” 

You’d never meant anything more, when immediately you’d answered through your laughter, “Yes.” 

The two of you decided very quickly to forgo the meaningless trappings and pageantry of the conventional wedding. Who did it concern, anyway, but just the two of you? 

In half an hour, you will go to the courthouse where a Justice of the Peace will say a few words over your union, and you’ll sign a piece of paper together declaring you man and wife. This last big gesture will be undeniably sweet, but you can’t help but think it won’t really change anything between the two of you. The cement of your bond set long ago, mixed with dedication, sweat, and tears poured into this precious thing between you. 

It hasn’t been all roses. No real relationship ever is. 

Your fights are probably the stuff of legend in his condo building. Your first big go round, after the inevitable shouting match, you’d left his apartment in a huff, needing to regroup (so as not to commit murder). When you came back you found him sitting in the dark with his head in his hands. He’d thought you’d left for good, and you promised him that night that you would always come back for him. 

It’s a promise you’ve kept. 

A bit more embarrassing, your make up sex is probably legend too. Mrs. Fontaine next door always gives you a certain sly little look with a twinkle in her eye, the night after.

For such an expensive building, they’d sure skimped on the thickness of the walls.

He’s tried to break up with you, twice. Once, after seeing you holding a friend’s baby, (and maybe because you somehow managed not to drop it?) he convinced himself (without asking you) that you really did want kids and were wasting your youth on him. The second time, because he insulted you. Or rather, your art. His usually impish teasing just went a bit too far, and it had been a doozy, you had to admit. No one can deliver a cuttingly true remark like Frank, and he did make you cry,  though he apologized almost immediately. Ironically, in the end, the whole thing upset him more than you, the you deserve better song and dance surfacing again that you’ve fought tooth and nail.

You did not respect his wishes either instance, refusing to take no for an answer, going after him with both barrels and a vengeance. You sent flowers to his work, bribed his dry cleaner to put love notes in his jacket pockets, and left sappy balloons tied to his car. You even threatened to finally ambush him with the boombox (you didn’t even own one, truth be told) which finally led to a sit down at your favorite sushi joint, and your inevitable victory. As it turned out–it was exactly the assurance he’d needed all along. 

Both times your love just came out the other side of the fire even stronger. 

Your joy is legend too, even if only in your own mind. Frank makes you laugh every day. He makes you feel desired, and loved, and mostly saves his razor-edged observations for the rest of the world outside, which the two of you watch go by with spectators’ amusement and dismay. Talking shit remains your number one pastime together. At some point, the little things each of you does that inevitably annoys the other becomes more of a running joke. Your love language includes flipping each other off regularly and playfully trading barbs. It’s hard for others to believe, but his devotion to you is thoughtful and complete. You do your best every day to return it in kind. Some days you fall short, and sometimes he does too, but on the whole you make eachother happy, and somehow five years have flown by. 

 “You look beautiful.” His approval fills your heart like a sunrise. You’re wearing a simple white lace dress that hits just above your knee. If you have to run from a mountain lion, you’re not going to trip over your skirts. Your shoes? Might be another matter. 

“Thanks.”

“I like the heels,” he says with a smirk, as though his thoughts are aligned with yours. They often are as of late, you’ve found. Your shoes are actually the same wedge platforms you wore to a different wedding you attended together, what feels like a lifetime ago. 

“I thought you hated these shoes?” you tease. 

“Oh no. It will be impossible for you to run from me, when you finally come to your senses,” he says with a little smile, touching a strand of hair by your ear lightly.  You shudder as it sends a thrill across your skin, and if you’re being honest, straight to your loins. Whose ridiculous suggestion was it, anyway, to forego intimacy before the wedding? 

Ok, so it was yours–and Frank has been delighting in torturing you over the past month. You just might expire over the time it will take to get to the courthouse, go for a leisurely drive through the vineyards, and sit through a nice dinner at one of the wineries overlooking the fields at sunset. Sex is yet another thing between you that has somehow only gotten better with time, and to say you are looking forward to your wedding night would be an understatement.

“This was all your idea,” you remind him. “Are you…rethinking it? If you are–” 

He snorts and pulls you against him, lifting you on tiptoe with an arm around your waist and kissing you so deeply you know you’ll have to re-apply your lipstick. 

Ah well. 

“Woman…” He rests his forehead against yours, and you smile, ridiculously content in this moment with him.

“Why do you want to get married, Frank?” You realize, perhaps hilariously, you never actually asked him, so delighted that you just rolled with it. You already practically live together, at his place and yours. You’re both financially independent. You’re not planning on starting a family. Your commitment to each other was already set in stone.  

“I felt like we needed a challenge. We’ve been entirely too happy,” he says with that smirk that makes you roll your eyes. 

“Come on.”

“And if something happens to me, I don’t want my mother or Keith to be able to pull my plug.”

You poke him in the ribs for this. For some reason, he’s convinced himself this morbid scenario is inevitable. “I already have your medical POA.”

He squirms away with a grunt of amusement before grabbing you up again, his gaze softening for you once more. “Because, I love you, more than anything or anyone.” 

You believe him too. The thing about Frank, is that he does not make this shit up. He says what he’s thinking, at the moment he thinks it–and you think your heart really might explode. “Likewise,” you assure him with a smile, tilting your head to receive another gentle kiss that curls your painted toes. “Are you ready to go?”

He nods, and maybe you are feeling some pre-wedding jitters now. Because you still think this man is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on, and sometimes it is still a little hard to believe that he’s all yours. 

You grab your purse, he grabs the keys, and together you walk out the door towards the next big step of your life, together. 

The End, which is really just to say, another beginning…  

Thank you everyone who’s come on this wacky journey with me and supported this fic! @treedaddymcpuffpuff @scarlettspectra @sweetwolfcupcake @lilspookymeh @kurai-hono-blog @nightmare-bean  @discoscoob @thewhumpcaretaker and SO many others, (I didn’t want to make you feel weird by tagging you if we’ve never actually talked but I SEE YOU! 😘) your comments and likes and reblogs gave me life and helped me actually finish! FULL credit to @nightmare-bean for the rock proposal idea, I love it so much! 🤣

[heartfullofleeches]

wb yan! Sweet prince vs yan! Cold prince from another country? Like a sunshine vs ice thingg with duchess/duke reader.

"Y/n, Y/n~! Look, I made you a flower crown."

That little brat. Arriving to their meeting nearly an hour late to play with dead plants. As added salt to the wound, it was some filthy, common solider who escorted the visiting royal to the study as apposed to that fair solider who had thawed his icy heart ages ago.

It was love at first sight for the stone faced prince. Well, second if going by technicalities. He thought of you as nothing more than his older relatives lap dog, until he saw the you your prince held at bay. A head steady soldier with a misplaced heart, but a strong sense of justice. You were a saving light, an idol those wise would follow and looked up to. Your time and beauty was a waste on a fool like that man.

"It is beautiful, My Prince. Thank you."

You kneel to allow the prince to place his crown on your head. It drives a knife twice over within the heart of the onlooking royal. My Prince. A title he wouldn't deserve in either his proudest or final moment. A real prince would shower a treasure like you in jewels that capture a tenth of your charm, but priceless all the same. He couldn't stand it.

"Is everything alright, your majesty?"

The prince's cold stare cracks due to the surprise of being the party address in conversation. He huffs, folding his arms over his chest.

"That's "My Lord" to you, Knight."

Holding your tongue, you nod. "Yes, My Lord."

He does feel bad for his tone, but being abrasive has lead to majority of his victories in life. Your prince frowns.

"Hmph, he's always cranky even he first arrives. Don't worry about it too much, Y/n. He won't be here for long anyway."

At your angle, you miss the smile that crosses your prince's face.

"I'm not bothered by it. If you'll excuse me, I have business to tend to elsewhere." You leave the room despite the verbal and silent commands otherwise. Your prince takes his first at last.

"The wedding will be in spring if you wanted to know. Gives you enough time to put your focus on someone other than my Y/n."

"The only reason you're still alive is because I would be the prime suspect

[merlinmerlot]

We finally finished the fifth elephant.

I wish I could say after my 2nd reading I enjoyed this book, but unfortunately it's marred by painful pacing and deeply frustrating overtures to any of the actually good scenes.

Read more for my full thoughts:

Fifth Elephant is a book that struggles with its identity in a way I haven't seen in previous watch books, and it's made all the more maddening by the fact that out of the twenty million things the book tries, there is some stuff of substance! But you can never quite get a handle on any of them because the book is so damn busy!

I struggle to pinpoint a main theme in this book. Is it about fascism, the consequences of long distance communication, or gender and race in conservative society? The book doesn't doesn't stay with any of these concepts for long enough, which results in a muddy plot.

Is it about the past, the future, history, belief, traditions, what it means for things to stay the same and yet change, and what that means for truth? But that feels like well traveled ground, especially with Men At Arms and Feet of Clay, and honestly, this book doesn't sell this well enough to me, because while it’s Telling me these things, it's not actually Saying anything with them.

While Pratchett makes a point to give Klatch space to breathe, and make it a country on its terms (though, admittedly, he falls into orientalist tropes), Uberwald is plagued by Western exceptionalist writing choices. Why does Pratchett connect ideas of the future to Ankh Morpork (a proto-capitalist state), and imply that Uberwald must be forcefully pulled along with it? Why are there multiple scenes about how much the people of Uberwald hate living there, that they want to go to ‘modern’ Ankh Morpork, without really scrutinizing Why that is? Why is the fact that Ankh Morpork has become Such a global economic power not explored in a critical way, at least not thoroughly? (Especially since I Know Pratchett is capable of it. He did it with Jingo.)

I think the biggest crime this book does, though, is with its characterization of Vimes. I can't fathom the ‘why’, but for some reason Pratchett leans into the hyper-masculine noir traits of Vimes' character. They’ve always been there, but while the other books took a satirical spin to it, there's a certain romanticizing of it in this book. Vimes’ violent, ‘beastly’ nature is bad and Scary, but oh, isn't it Cool and Dark and Edgy too? Look how this strong, bloody man frightens the townsfolk, smokes a cigar while he shoots a man to save his poor wife. This is tolerable in bite sized portions, but in Fifth Elephant it's like sickening sweet. Why does Vimes kill a man in the streets, on purpose, (the first time he does that in the climax of these books!) and it's hardly addressed! (Yes, Wolfgang deserved it. But when So Much of Vimes' character is delegated to Not giving in to the Easy Choice, why is this decision not given the space it needs? Especially RIGHT after Jingo!)

There's just this strange sense of a focus on masculinity in this book that wasn't in any of the others. Like, why is it that in the Uberwald book, we spend more time with Carrot chasing Angua then with Angua herself? Why the hell is this not an Angua book? Why, in every scene where she has to confront her problems, whether that be her family or otherwise, must she be saved by a man? 

And all of this is a shame because there Are some scenes I really enjoy in this book! I love when we see Sybil and the wedding pictures, I love Vimes getting chased by werewolves. I find Inigo a really fun character, and I LOVE MARGOLOTTA. The parallels between the clacks towers and modern day communication, the little crumbs here and there of spy media tropes, the addiction metaphors, the werewolf family! But that's the kicker! We never spend enough time with Any idea! And none of it connects well enough together! Which is crazy, because Jingo and Feet of Clay were both such Cohesive stories. 

Regardless. I’m looking forward to The Truth because I really missed Ankh Morpork in this book. And Also Vetinari. (who, funnily enough, is hardly in this book. I guess he took up too much space in Jingo).

My final thoughts: Vimes should have had a daughter instead. 

[gabessquishytum]

King Time and Queen Night declared war on a smaller kingdom next to theirs for no other reason than they wanted more land. They declared war and to everyone suprise they lost. Badly. And so they had to give up a proportion of their land and send over one of their children as a war prize. They send Dream their least favourite child and a disgraceful omega at that, sure he will anger them into killing him soon and so they won't need to worry about their superior blood mixing with those filthy mutts.

A year later, the King and Queen are surprised to see Dream at the resigning of the peace treaty alive, heavily pregnant and happily married to the third prince.

(This is actually an idea of how Hob has a lot of siblings, and Dream is surprised to see how they are totally different from his own family. )

I love the idea of Hob having lots of siblings!! Maybe some are related by birth, and others are adopted. They're a mix of alphas and omegas, and in general there seems to be a very different attitude to omegas in Hob’s country. They're treated with just as much respect as alphas.

Hob’s siblings are all fascinated by the "war prize" that's been delivered. As one of the older ones, Hob has to hold back the little ones from swarming the poor foreign prince, who already looks terrified. Hob’s two elder sisters are already married and have many state duties to attend to, so Hob is happy to have the task of looking after the new guest. He rescues Dream from his little brothers and sisters and gets him set up in a nice room. Dream seems confused by it all. Why is everyone being so pleasant? Is it all a trick?

Dream doesn't really trust Hob until he seems him playing with the children - letting them ride on his back, helping them with a difficult lesson, breaking up a fight over a broken toy. Despite being an alpha, Hob is clearly an excellent caretaker, and he's so sweet with his younger siblings. All the children of the King and Queen in this realm seem so happy, like they really trust each other.

It doesn't take long for Dream to fall in love with the kind, homely alpha prince. He's surprised to find that Hob returns his affections - Dream has always considered himself unlovable, but apparently he's not. When Dream has his first heat in his new home, Hob is there with him the whole time... and yes, there's a slightly hasty wedding afterwards, but Hob’s family don't seem at all upset.

Dream is a very different person as he stares hautily at his parents across the room. He's sitting down, to spare his poor pregnant body, and one of Hob’s littlest siblings has nestled up in his lap, curled around his bump. Hob is fussing over him, never taking his eyes off his omega for a moment. Dream is quite clearly loved.

As he very much deserves.

[luci4theminorannoyance]

I'm sorry to bother you. May I request an Angry/ fluff?

I saw this one episode from Helluva Boss about moxie. He has a toxic father and being forced to wed, and Millie saved him from a forced marriage.

Can you put the fem!Reader in the same situation? Being forced to wed and their partner rescue them?

141 squad + Valeria .

If this is too much writing for you... You can ignore it.

a/n: hi!! Guess who just wrote all of this and didn’t save! Also- no writing is too much for me :)

Gaz:

-you didn’t tell him, just imagining the tears in his eyes was enough to make you feel horrid. He was so sweet to you, he didn’t deserve this but you didn’t have a choice

-he didn’t know until he came by to say hello after a long mission only for one of the maids to tell him you were off getting married!

-his heart was racing, did you not love him? Were you actually doing this? Why? No. No it wasn’t you. It had to be your family.

-even though he wasn’t invited, he walked in anyway, sitting in the front seat with a mask to cover his face and his nerves on edge

-and seeing you walk down the isle was enough to make him cry before he sprang into action, grabbing you by the wrist and walking you outside before anyone could do anything

-“next time I see you on an isle it better be you and me, luv. Yah?” Gaz hummed as he kissed you right outside the churches doors, a smile gleaming on his face

soap:

-he always had hated your family, their little comments against you and their glares at him always making his blood boil, if he could punch all of them he would in an instant and would have fun doing it

-the second you told him, all teary eyed and sobbing? He felt a sickening sense of jealously overwhelm him. You were his girlfriend and if a single rich jerk wanted you they would have to put up with him

-he of course, showed up to your wedding, knocking open the door with pure adrenaline shooting through him as he picked you up over your shoulder and carried you out

-he was a mix of emotions, and his adrenaline didn’t calm down until you were with him in the car, in his arms once again

-“yer alright ain’t ye, Bonnie? or should I go back ‘n and punch one of ‘em for ye?”

ghost:

-pretended to be okay with it, pretended to be fine with it, pretended to be okay with losing you even if he knew you were the only girl he had let in for a long time seriously

-he even saw you get up to the altar before he snapped. He couldn’t take it! He didn’t care if the fucking body guards hauled him away in the end he just couldn’t see you be unhappy

-of course everyone was shocked, including the poor groom who was just as uncomfortable as you were and was shoved aside by ghost

-ghost practically took you and ran. Didn’t even process what he did until you two were all the way at his apartment

-“fuck…. Hey, luvie- any idea on what we’re gonna do now or should I just hope your family doesn’t come and find you?”

price:

-oh now he’s just amused. Your family trying to take away you? From him? Ain’t that just sweet. he didn’t take them seriously even at the wedding. He knew he could pull this off and hopefully keep you with him where you wanted to be

-inside he was honestly scared though.. what if you did want this? What if he can’t think of a way to keep you safe? What if he fails?

-he treated it like a mission. Step one; show up with a fast get away car and grab you before you even get to the church, step two: cuddle with you till he forgets all the stress (although he wouldn’t admit that part until you let him)

-he got you home in the end, still in your dress and still stressed from the entire ordeal.. but now he has you back, that’s all that matters to him.

valeria:

-much to her men’s surprise, she didn’t… go in guns blazing! She simply payed people off. Oh your family is sending you to a country to marry someone? Too bad she’s there and the groom disappeared. Your family hides where you are? Whomp whomp, she’s already at the door ready to kiss you all over and simply walk out with you next to her

-over time it was practically a game for her, she knew you and her would marry eventually. Although she was starting to get bored of the white wedding gown she had seen you in at least five times now. Although you looked stunning in it all the same

-“you know, mi vida; when I marry you I should buy you a different dress. I’ve seen this one so many times it’s not even a surprise anymore, maybe you can choose it out and you can show it to me on the isle, hm?”

[eisukevint]

eisuke ichinomiya x desi!reader headcanons !!

im so bored so here are some headcanons bec i love being desi

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

• he hates it when he has to wait and initially when you started dating you tried your best to be on time whenever he paged you but as your relationship progressed, its game over. whenever u have to go out, you ALWAYS leave at the the desi time and he slowly got so used to it, the one and only time punctual eisuke was late to events.

• eisuke has a massive sweet tooth so when you first made him kheer, he absolutely loved it although his only words were ‘not bad’. He definitely asks you to make it again so you feed him other ‘mithai’ (sweets in urdu/hindi) like gulab jamun, rasgullay, JALEBI etc and he loves it so much.

• you make him desi food from time to time and actually requests it like you him ask ‘eisuke what do you want for dinner today?’ and he just says ‘you made nihari last time, it was good. make it again’ he finds it very flavourful.

• he’s very familiar with other cultures since he’s a businessman and often interacts with foreign businessmen. he knows about the clothes and customs of your country. imagine eisuke in kurta or sherwani EISUKE IN A KURTA A BLACK KURTA AT THAT (i would actually die). Whenever you go to family events, you always wear traditional clothes and once eisuke is invited to them, he initially just wears his suit but after some time he starts to indulge you and actually wears your traditional clothes.

• he finds it very sexy when you talk and swear in your mother language.

• eisuke is multilingual (as its mentioned in the story) so if he doesnt know your mother langauge he would DEFINITELY learn and boy his pronunciation would be so good (thats a perfectionist for you)

• he says he hates bollywood movies because theyre so extra but thats a lie. whenever u play something like ‘kabhi khushi kabhi gham’ or ‘kal ho na ho’ he always watches it with you because he’s intrigued but ALWAYS says ‘this movie is so bad i wonder why you waste time watching this stuff’

• you go around singing bollywood songs or songs in your mother tongue around the penthouse and he just enjoys it so much but he definitely wont say it out loud

• eisuke was FLABBERGASTED when you told him or rather showed him a desi wedding like why is everyone wearing such fancy clothes ??? and he’s even more surprised when he finds out there’s actually three days to a wedding and even more pre wedding events.

• he loves it when you wear mehndi on your hands, he sees mehndi as something that adorns your hand and whenever u apply it, he brings your hand up to his face and smells it because he loves thr scent.

• when you told him about all your family and by that i mean family on your mother’s and father’s side, he has to do a double take because why the fuck do you have SO many cousins? he’s trying to keep up but there’s just so many.

• your parents love him more than you. they literally said it to your face ‘oh my, such a handsome boy, how did you ever end up with our incompetent daughter’ you cannot convince me that this wont happen.

• baba asks you to teach him bhangra and other desi dance steps and you, ota and baba have the time of your life dancing to chammak challo and nach punjaban in the penthouse lounge and eisuke just looks at you like youre comitting a crime

a little something for myself bec im a self indulgent bitch (not exactly a desi headcanon but i wanted to add this)

• every eid you spend with him, he makes sure to spoil you thoroughly. he gives you so much eidi (literally) like he straight up handed you car keys once and went ‘eid mubarak ___, i know you’ve been waiting for your eidi’ and then he just smirks while you think what did you do to deserve so much. he enjoys eid festivities with you and eid ul fitr is his favourite eid.

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART SIXTEEN

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Not even all the domesticity with Javier in the world is capable to keep the two of you together once his connection with Los Pepes is discovered

Warnings: angst, hurt, mentions of smut, incorrect narcos plot and a little bit of fluff but overall just angst

A/N: this chapter made me sad, I love this story and I'm sad this chapter happened, it made me tear up a little, but it is important for our story besties, I just hope you will like it 😿

• PART ONE TO FIFTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

3.8k words

You made sure to wake up very early the next morning, your heart couldn't take the love you were holding at that moment. Javier had asked you to marry him.

And you had said yes.

You still couldn't quite believe it, your head ached a little from the wine you drank the night before, but it was way better than you expected, after all that went on as well, you thought you'd be dead in the morning.

The amount of alcohol you had, the argument with Steve, then the situation with Javi followed by his disappearance and the mind blowing sex you had together and finishing things off with a marriage proposal. You were undoubtedly exhausted.

After he proposed to you and you said yes, you shared a passionate kiss. It was tender and gentle, sweet and it spoke so many words about your relationship without having to use words, and then Javi took you as his again, only this time he wasn't fucking you, he was making love to you, because you weren't just any woman and you weren't only his girlfriend, you were now officially his soon to be wife. A wife he wanted and craved because he wanted to marry you, he wanted to build a life with you, and not because he felt pressured into doing it, but because you were the one he wanted to share his life with.

Of course you weren't engaged yet, it wasn't official in the sense of having an engagement ring or setting a date for the wedding, but it was official enough for the two of you. Javier's mother's ring was in a box in the bottom of his wardrobe, but you didn't mind if he hadn't handed it over to you, it was a beautiful memory he kept from his mom, you knew how painful it was for both Javier and his dad when she passed and as much as a hard moment like that could help them narrow their bond, it seemed it only split them apart further.

And after what happened in his first engagement, when Lorraine refused to return him the ring and he almost lost it, you would perfectly understand if he got scared of giving it to another woman.

But Javier had asked you to marry him and that was all that mattered to the two of you.

Javier had serious commitment issues and if he had overcome all of it, it was because he was ready to tie the knot with you. You couldn't deny the pride you felt to know you were the one who made Javier's heart beat faster, he didn't escape you like he escaped others, you weren't just a fuck for him, you were going to be his wife, you were sure, because he would never ask something like that just because, it had a meaning to it, you knew it.

You were going to marry Javier Peña. That spread a heat across your reddening cheek and it made you giggle like a teenager, making you so distracted as you didn't even notice the moment Javi got up and walked to you.

He didn't bother putting on clothes other than his jeans and walked to the kitchen after you, a soft smirk on his lips as he remembered how you said yes to his proposal. He was a happy man that morning, despite everything bad that was happening in his job and in the country. Not even his fight with Steve bothered him, because all that mattered was that he was going to be a married man and you would be his beautiful sweet wife.

Just his arms snaking around your body as he kissed your neck without warning and making you squeal in surprise "distracted, cariño?" He raised his eyebrow at you and you chuckled softly "a little yes… good morning mi amor" you replied immediately turning around and watching his shirtless figure, one hand on his shoulder and another one on his waist. His broad naked chest and his cute belly just there, exposed for your enjoyment. Javier was a beautiful, handsome man, and as he was aware of his charm, you wondered if he knew how handsome he really was.

He licked his lips softly and looked at you, feeling a little unnerving as you would barely blink while looking at him and he felt… shy?

"What? Do I have something on my face?" He asked but you shook your head and chuckled

"No, I'm just admiring you because you are handsome"

Javi ran his hand through his hair and looked down, yes, he was definitely feeling shy. He cleared his throat and looked at you "stop mariposa" he eyed over your shoulder and bit his lips as he saw you were making breakfast. It wasn't his turn to make pancakes, instead, you were making him eggs and bacon.

His mouth watered at the sight of it, he couldn't resist that breakfast, just like he often ate when he was growing up at the ranch and he couldn't believe you were making that. He smirked at you "practicing to be a wife?" He raised his eyebrow and tried stealing a bacon bit, but you slapped his hand away.

"You can bet your cute ass, I am, Javier and my first action as a wife is sending you to shower because after all we did last night, you are sticky with sweat" you said as your hand ruffled his greasy hair.

Javi chuckled and shook his head "no seas tan mala conmigo" he mumbled and slapped your ass, making you squirm before walking to the bathroom.

A shower later, Javi had also shaved and trimmed his mustache. He had great expectations for that day. After all the shit he did the night before, Judy had promised him she would go down to the embassy and would confess, ratting on all the other crime lords that brought so much terror to the country.

It would be either that or she would go to the american press and rat on Javier instead. And then, his career would be over if he got lucky. If he didn't, he would simply go to jail.

So he hoped really hard the only possible option would be to welcome Judy at the embassy. He couldn't afford to have her tell the Miami Herald about the link to Los Pepes, it wouldn't take the DEA long to connect the dots and figure out which long term agent she would be talking about. As he dressed himself in his good suit - the one Steve often called Messina suit - he thought of how things had to work out that day. It was the only option, he couldn't just have that screwed up, his future depended on that, your future together depended on that. He knew Pablo's situation was getting tight and it would be a matter of time to catch him. Peña had thought of how ironic life really was. The biggest monster in Colombia had found his ruin once he got separated from his family. It always baffled Javier how a man who could do the cruelest things, could also be a loving husband and father. Of course it was common for every agent to know about Pablo's escapades and his collection of mistresses, his own wife probably knew about it and pretended she didn't, that was a part Javier didn't quite get, he understood the appeal, the power Escobar had and how he could have any woman in the country just because he was himself, and women wouldn't deny him, either for money or by fear. But at the same time, he'd seen surveillance photos enough times to know his wife was a beautiful woman, she'd given him two children, a family and he just couldn't understand how Escobar could jeopardize that for a couple of hours of fun with someone else. Of course, she probably didn't have much choice, she was married to him for life, and he would never let her go. When you marry a narco, it is literally till death do us part.

Javi didn't approve that, he wasn't a cheater and despite what everyone thought of him, he didn't just go and cheated on his girlfriend, of course most of his relationships didn't last long, but the moment he ever got bored, he just broke things up, it was better than making them suffer in the long run. The only he couldn't bring himself to do it was Lorraine, he was young and stupid, clueless and thought he would be able to go through a marriage with her, and when he was finally honest with himself and saw that no, he wouldn't be able to go through a marriage with her, he left her at the altar.

It was a horrible thing, a real dick move and he regretted that every single day even if he had already asked her for forgiveness so many times, he still felt bad about doing that to her. Even more so when he learned you had been through the very same thing. He got nauseous to know in a sense, he was the same as your ex-fiance was. It was something horrible to do, but Javi still think it was better than putting Lorraine through a loveless marriage, she was a good, decent girl, beautiful and she dreamed of a family, a family she got when she married her current husband, a man who really appreciated her unlike Javi, and that turned out for the best because she found someone she loved and years later, Javier found you.

He finished with his tie, groaning softly as it was early in the morning, he'd just left shower and he was already starting to sweat. He hated wearing suits and above all, he hated wearing them in Colombia.

But he would never hate the way you stared at him when he wore one. Ever since you arrived in the country, when you two were nothing more than just friends, you couldn't keep your eyes off him, he always thought it was amusing how you would look at him. And that was exactly the look you gave him once you spotted him walking towards you.

You really thought that after you and Javier got together, he would stop having that effect on you, but it turns out it hadn't ceased at all.

You were still mad for Javier, there was no way to fight it.

So you completely ignored the table you had made for him and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his lips deeply, before going to his beautiful sharp jawline.

You giggled and chuckled as his hands went around your waist, gripping you and pulling you closer to his body.

"So, are you dressed for our wedding?" Your raised your eyebrow and Javi nodded

"Yeah, and where's your wedding dress? Not that I'm complaining to marry you in my shirt and panties, but I think the guests would be a little shocked" he laughed softly and you slapped his chest playfully.

"Come on, I made you breakfast like a sweet little housewife, Peña, the least you can do is to sit down and have it" you pouted and watched as he saw on the chair, immediately going for his lap and getting comfortable.

You rested your head on top of Javi's feeling his soft hair on your chin and the scent of his shampoo as he began eating. You were so happy you wish you could just take him away from all the chaos and stress of DEA and hide away with him for a while. Maybe you two needed vacation, or maybe you two needed to go on your honeymoon already.

Javi moaned as he tried your breakfast, he knew he was a shitty cook and you only liked his pancakes because they were made by him, but your bacon and eggs were the best thing he ate for breakfast in so long.

He used his fork with his right hand as his left hand rested absentmindedly on your thigh, still tracing invisible lines on your skin with the tip of his fingers. You smiled at yourself, but Javi sighed deeply, putting his silverware down and holding you by the waist, as he indicated for you to sit on the chair next to him, he needed to look at you, into your eyes and be honest with you.

Javi took your hand, caressing gently and took a deep breath.

"I need to tell you what happened last night…" he licked his lips softly and began his account. He tried ignoring the worry and the fear in your eyes and didn't spare you any details. Javi wanted to protect you from everything bad in the world but he knew he couldn't. So as long as he could keep you physically okay, he decided he wouldn't hide any information from you, he wouldn't keep secrets, if you were going to be his wife, then he would be brutally honest with you.

So he told you all about that happened, about Judy, about her promise of going to the embassy and how she would rat on Javi in the american press if things didn't work.

You shook your head, so many questions and comments nearly rolling down your tongue, but you held yourself, you wanted Javier to tell you everything, you had the impression he was venting, he was letting things out. For the first time he was honest about all the implications that could happen to him and once Javier was done. You were at a loss of words, so the only thing you thought of doing was kissing him.

It was the best way you could show him support and he understood it perfectly, kissing you back, he accepted your offer. You both understood each other like no one ever would.

You washed the dishes as Javi apologized to you for not giving you a ride, but he would go straight to the Embassy earlier than you would go to the office. You shook your head and made sure to remind him not to worry about you at all, you would be fine, and you also told him he would be fine, even if you weren't so sure, you had to be supportive, so you pecked his lips and wished him good luck as he walked out the door.

•••

You were almost finishing getting dressed, as you put on your earrings and some lipstick when someone knocked on your door. You thought it was odd as you didn't really get visitors and neither did Javi, but you needed to check who it was, maybe it was just someone who missed the right door or even the mailman, you had no idea, but you would definitely check the peephole, as Javi had taught you and insisted you never opened the door to anyone you didn't know, especially at his place. He had a deep, dark fear of you being caught in an ambush meant for him. You shook those scary, depressing thoughts as you walked to the door, taking a look at the peephole just like he'd told you many times. You sort of chuckled to yourself: he would definitely be proud of you.

But you were in no mood to chuckle, as you saw Steve standing there. You groaned and the annoyance of his presence was intense. You want to ignore him, pretend no one was at home at the same time you wanted to open the door and let him know what you thought of him. And it wouldn't be flattering, that was for sure.

"Come on Y/N, open the door. I need to talk to you right now. Please" he asked and rubbed his forehead, sighing sadly "first of all, I want to apologize for being a dick, for offending you but I want to talk to you about Javier" he added "it's important"

You thought of turning your back and finish getting dressed, but at the same time your attention was caught by his words. If it was about Javier, it concerned you.

You sighed, taking a deep breath and opened the door, letting him in and looked at him

"What about Javi?"

"Y/N, I want to apologize for what I did to you last night, I was really bad to you, I shouldn't have said those things, you were always nothing but nice and sweet to me, you've always helped me and you are so nice to my wife and kids, I'm sorry if I ruined our friendship, but I was mad at Javier. I was fucking out of my mind, and I drank too much and I wanted to hurt him and I knew I would hurt him if I hurt you too" Steve sighed "I'm worried… I don't think Judy will give in, she is probably in Miami now, and the moment her interview hits the street, the DEA will be able to connect Javi with her accusations… he'll probably lose his badge, and he'll go to jail…" he sighed "Javier is my friend too, he's the closest thing I have to a best friend and I don't want to see that happening to him"

You nodded and bit your lips.

You didn't know what was going to happen, but you felt a killing anxiety in your heart and all you wanted was to get to the end of the day and meet your handsome boyfriend.

You spent your hours at work unable to focus, no one could provide you any information in order to calm you down a little. Colleen was a useless skank, all she did in that office was gossip about everyone else and hit on Javier; Steve had gone to the Embassy too, though he would be back as the tactical team was working on another ambush for Pablo.

Manu walked by your desk a few times, handing you papers here and there, but besides addressing you in such a businesslike manner, he didn't give you the time of the day.

You were so anxious at some point you caught yourself with your fingers close to your mouth, one step away from biting your nails. But you stopped yourself, thinking of how Javi loved your well-painted nails. The sweet reminder brought a smile to your face and the sense of calmness to your heart. Even if you knew it wasn't going to last, you were still thankful for it. The hours dragged themselves and you felt every single minute you spent trapped in that office was pure torture, you wanted to reach out for Javi and call him, even if it was only to hear his voice, you wanted that purring voice calling you cariño or princesa, or any other pet name that made your heart race. You even thought of going home earlier, but it wouldn't work as Javier would always arrive later than you.

You then forced yourself to work, bury your head into a pile of papers, reading, analyzing, correcting and redoing the process over and over. If you did that enough times, you promised yourself you would feel a little better, by being distracted.

And it worked, it worked to the point you only realized you were the only one in your office when you lifted your head up and looked around to see the other desks empty and the dark outside the window, but that didn't stop you, you drowned yourself into more work, now not wanting to face the possibilities and results of Javi's actions, you just couldn't lose him.

And you worked some more, only stopping when you smell the cigarette smoke and some steps walking to your table.

He'd lost his suit jacket somewhere, his tie was loosened and he didn't look you in the eyes.

"Cariño… I-I'm going to Washington"

•••

The two days that passed were nothing much than a blur to you, that bitch known as Judy Moncada had escaped to Miami and given her her interview. It didn't take a genius to figure out which long term DEA agent she was talking about, so the Board Of Professional Conduct wanted to see him immediately. You tried to be your best to your boyfriend, the two of you knew things wouldn't be easy from that moment on and you didn't want to show him you were gutted, even though you were. You just didn't want to add more guilt to him, he was already going through a bad enough situation, Steve was now really close to catching Escobar and after giving years of his life in order to chase him down, he was about to miss it.

He was just facing a nerve-wracking situation, Javi couldn't even sleep for the past couple of nights, he would smoke one cigarette after another and no matter what you told him, he was distant.

You didn't know if he wanted to push you away or if he was just doing it unconsciously, it broke your heart to think of the little time you had to spend with him would be so impersonal. You wanted to cry, to scream at him, at the same time you also understood the turmoil of feelings he went through.

You even went to Messina's office to beg her for the position she'd previously offered you in the US, so it would be a lot easier for you to be with Javi if you stayed in the same country, even if he left the DEA.

The night before his trip, Javi pulled you to his body, he looked you into your eyes and asked you for forgiveness, for every single thing he had ever done to you, from the time you were just friends, to when you guys simply became nemesis, and then when you finally admitted your love for each other. Javi made you promise him you would call and write to him, and he would do the same. He also made you promise that one day you'd marry him.

So he got on his knees and opened a small ring box, offering you his mother's ring as your engagement ring.

You'd said yes and kissed him deeply, not getting enough of him even when he was buried deep inside of you. You two had made love that night, but nothing ripped your heart apart than taking him to the airport.

The way he gripped your body and didn't want to let go even when the passengers of his flight were being called and he shot you his puppy eyes one last time before boarding on the plane and leaving you.

You were still stronger than you thought you would be, breaking down only when you got to his apartment, seeing how empty it was now that Javier was gone.

____

A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS MADE ME UNBELIEVABLY SAD, LIKE MY HEART IS HEAVY KINDA SAD 😭😭😭😭 IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN, I'M JUST SAD