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sunny44 · 1 year ago

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All these years (Part 5)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

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"How was to see him again?" Carla asks curiously.

"I can't explain the feeling actually.”

"You still love him, don't you?"

"Loving or not, everything between us ended a long time ago."

"But he still loves you."

"That doesn't matter anymore, we've both moved on and we're very different people now."

"And more mature too, if you two just talked maybe you could understand each other."

"Carla, you have no idea what it's like to look at the person you loved the most in the world and the only thing you can feel is anguish, disgust, and disappointment. No matter how true my good feelings for him are, the bad ones always win in my mind." she continues, listening. "Every time I look at him, I remember him yelling at me and saying all those things. And believe me, it's not easy to forget."

"You should at least talk and come to an agreement because Pescale hates seeing you two fighting." she says, and I look at her. "You have no idea how upset she gets when she sees you two in the same room with those looks."

"What looks?"

"Yours wanting to kill him and his wanting to kiss you and never stop."

"Ok." I can only say that.

"Would it be a bad time to say that you're going to be his partner?"

"What? I thought Lorenzo would be my partner."

"He would, but he wanted to be with one of my cousins who he found attractive, so Lorenzo asked if it would be a problem to change at the last minute and I said it wouldn't be a problem, and that you would be Charles's partner."

"How does he always end up near me without even trying?"

"Because you're like magnets, you always find your way to each other."

"Idiot." she laughs, and we remain quiet as they finish the makeup.

They finished my hair, so I went to put on the dress. All the bridesmaids could choose the style they wanted, but in a certain shade of brown. I had mine made at a small tailor shop in Milan, which was simply perfect and very good.

"Get out of there so we can see the dress."

I left the dressing room and saw that all the other bridesmaids looked beautiful in their dresses, each one more beautiful than the other.

"Wow, you look beautiful," Charlotte who would be Lorenzo's partner, said.

"Thank you and you all look gorgeous too." I smiled at them. "But now it's time for the bride to put on her dress."

"Girls, I want you to see it later, so leave and find your respective partners."

I took one more look in the mirror to make sure I didn't have lipstick on my teeth and then left the room where we were. I soon saw Charles.

As always, there were women around him, so I walked over and made a throat-clearing noise to get their attention.

"We need to go, Leclerc."

"And who are you?"

"Unfortunately, I'm his partner."

"So you must be Y/n. I'm Gina," I agreed. "How did you let a man like this get away?"

"He's not as spectacular as he seems, believe me, he can be a real jerk when he wants."

I smoothed my dress and walked away, but I felt his arm around my waist and his large, warm hand on my stomach.

"You're full of compliments towards me."

"Sure." I said, and he laughed.

"Even now, you're as sarcastic as ever."

"If you don't like it, that's your problem."

"In fact, I love it." he whispered in my ear, and the hair on my neck stood on end. "How do I look?"

"Ugly, very ugly.” he laughed.

"Okay, now tell the truth."

"And what makes you think I'm not telling the truth?"

"Because I know exactly when you're lying.” I rolled my eyes. "So?"

"You look ridiculously beautiful, which makes me want to punch your perfect nose." He laughed, and I missed hearing the sound of his laughter.

"That’s better now. And you look beautiful as always.” He said sincerely.

"Thank you, but brown isn't really my color."

"You look good in anything." I smiled. "Even naked."

"Can't you stop being a idiot for even a second?"

"I need to win you back somehow."

"Then stop trying because it won't work; you'll just waste your time."

"I prefer to waste my time on you in other ways.” he looked at me with a mischievous grin.

Before I could respond, we heard the music, so we all lined up to enter the venue. Obviously, Charles and I were the first to enter, and one of the organizers arranged the sequence, and the door opened. I hooked my arm through Charles, and we began to walk down the aisle.

"The next time will be you walking down the aisle to marry me.” Irolled my eyes, and before I could respond, we had to separate, each to our respective places.

Arthur was already there, nervously fiddling with his fingers, indicating that he was completely nervous.

Soon the music began to play, and Carla looked beautiful there. Her dress was simple, without all those layers of tulle, but it was beautiful and elegant, giving her a charming air. I noticed that Arthur had tears in his eyes, which brought tears to my eyes as well. I saw Charles smiling as he watched her walk toward his brother, and for a few minutes, I got lost in his smile, but I quickly looked back at the bride.

During the part where the priest was talking, I was a bit absentminded, and Charles's glances at me didn't help. He smiled and winked at me, and all I wanted to do was punch his perfect nose, but I was holding back.

"Repeat after me. I, Arthur Leclerc, accept Carla Brocker as my lawful wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and until death do us part," the priest said for him to repeat.

"I, Arthur Leclerc, accept Carla Brocker as my lawful wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and until death do us part."

"Now, you, Carla, repeat after me. I, Carla Brocker, accept Arthur Leclerc as my lawful husband, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and until death do us part."

"I, Carla Brocker, accept Arthur Leclerc as my lawful husband, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and until death do us part."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Everyone sitting in the pews stood up to witness it, and, of course, there were loud cheers and celebrations for the new couple.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Ready for the wedding of the century”

Tag list: @formulas-bitch @nuggetvirgo @lndonrris @cmleitora @janeholt3 @coffeewhore18 @blueflorals @agentadhd @eviethetheatrefreak @honethatty12 @lec-16 @ariamox @boherahpsody @ssararuffoni @leilani13gc @alldaysdreamer @minmira95 @dessxoxsworld @dessxoxsworld @vellicora @meadhbhcavanagh @viramila @lightdragonrayne @morenofilm @millinorrizz @leclercdream @buendiabebeta @ironmaiden1313 @julesandro @ssararuffoni @sialexia @notleclerc @glow-ish

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madhatterbri · 3 years ago

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Objection | L.M.

Author’s Note: Good afternoon, just another installment from my AO3 account. Enjoy lovelies. Happy hump day! "Here she is," the bride's mother announced and stood up from her seat. Tears and pride filled the older woman. There was so much cause for celebration. Her only child was getting married. She had been waiting for this special day for a long time. Nothing could ruin this perfect day.

Lola walked into the room. The house elves held the bottom of her dress so the dress wouldn't get dirty. Her closest female family members, maid of honor, and bridesmaids gasped at her appearance. The nervous woman started to feel shy. She made her way through the group. Several of them wished her good luck. Others told her how pretty she was.

The bride stared at herself in three full body-length mirrors. A small, fake smile was plastered on her face. Her long blonde hair was tied in a bun. Makeup caked her face. Her wedding dress a beautiful pearl colored dress. The dress hung to all her curves perfectly. This sleeveless dress was the same dress she always drew as a child.

"Everything is absolutely perfect," her mother gushed and clapped her hands together. "My baby is so happy she can't even speak,"

Lola smiled weakly in response. She wasn't a happy bride, but a miserable one. The wedding was everything she wanted, but the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle was not.

One of her cousins looked at their watch. She announced to the group that the wedding was in five minutes and they needed to get to their places. Everyone filed out of the room except her maid of honor, Brittney. She assured the wedding party she'll be right out. The door closed behind them.

The smaller witch crossed her arms over her chest. She stood by the bride.

"You aren't happy," Brittney spoke bluntly.

The air in the room suddenly felt heavier. Lola had trouble breathing and she wasn't sure if it was the tension in the room or the corset.

"Of course I am happy. It is my wedding day. Every girl's dream is today. Remember all the times we daydreamed about it as children?" She asked. Her mind allowing her to reminisce about their past.

"We have been friends since we were children. I can tell when you are lying. Just tell the truth, Lola," she exasperated.

"What good would it do me? Yes, I want Lucius. When I walk through the chapel doors I wish it was him waiting for me down the aisle. I wish it was he and I that planned our wedding together. Happy?" Lola spoke angrily. Tears started to form in her eyes. A weak sob slipped past her lips.

"Lola, I-"

"There is nothing we can do. This isn't a mistake at Hogwarts were we can try again tomorrow. This is it. I am going to be a Diggory," she swallowed down another sob. "Lucius didn't want me,"

"There has to be something we could do," Brittney interjected. "Something to buy us time."

"There is nothing. I just have to smile, walked down the aisle, and say I do,"

A knock on the door ceased all conversation between the two women. Lola called for the visitor to come in. One of the bridesmaids opened the door and poked her head in.

"The wedding is starting,"

Lola walked towards the door. Brittney sighed loudly in annoyance, yet followed her. One by one the bridal party left to take their appropriate places down the aisle. The bride waited impatiently for her turn. She stared at the bouquet of flowers. A mixture of different colors stared back at her. The green carnations mixed with the white roses reminded her of her days and nights at Malfoy Manor.

The traditional wedding song for a bride to walk down to started to play. The pianist worked his magic on the keys making them sound beautifully. Lola took the cue and walked down to the double doors of the church. The doors opened before her. The guests at her wedding gasped at her appearance. She was gorgeous.

While walking down the aisle, her soon to be husband came into view. He wore a simple tuxedo. His shoulder length brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Amos removed his glasses and wiped away the tears from streaming down his face. A pang of guilt washed through her. Lola stood in her proper place.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to...," The pastor started the wedding. Lola's mind started to drift. Her thoughts swirling around Lucius. The white-blond wizard that stole her heart the moment she realized that boys weren't as gross as she remembered.

All the stolen glaces in the hallways of Hogwarts.

The hot summer nights at Malfoy Manor.

"Lola," Amos whispered between them. He was now facing the priest. The now embarrassed bride muttered an apology and faced the minister. He seemed annoyed at the lack of her paying attention yet kept it to himself.

"And do you, Miss Lola Thompson, take Amos Diggory to be your lawfully wedded husband until death do you part?" The minister asked. He was trying to wrap up the wedding early.

Lola opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Her hope was fading that Lucius would come for her. All the moments they had together would remain in the back of her mind. She looked over her shoulder at the double doors.

"He isn't coming. This is what he wanted," her mind repeated.

"I-I,"

The double doors of the church bursted open. Some of the guests jumped in surprise while others yelled from the sudden noise. Amos and Lola turned to see the disruptor of their wedding.

A man with long white-blond hair walked in. He wore an all black suit and walked with confidence. Despite his confident stature, his face was contorted in sadness. The wizard appeared to have not slept in a while. Bags could easily been seen under his eyes despite their distance.

"Mister Malfoy, what are you doing at my daughter's wedding?" Her mother asked. Her voice was practically screeching.

"I object,"

#lucius malfoy x oc #lucius malfoy #imagine #lucius malfoy imagine #love #wedding

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favefandomimagines · 4 years ago

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Happens For A Reason 3

Summary: the day you and drew had been waiting for has finally arrived.

AN: ITS WEDDING TIME i’m so excited for this like so excited i looked up quotes from movies for the vows lol i didn’t think i’d want to make a part 2 or 3 but i love this premise

The day had finally arrived. You had been dreaming of your wedding day since you were 8 years old and you attended your older cousin’s wedding. You saw it as the most magical day of any person’s life and your own day was happening.

The pandemic made things very difficult for you. You had to get dresses delivered to try on from home so you didn’t have to leave the house. You met with flourists and caterers over Zoom and whatever you couldn’t sort out, your wedding planner did it for you.

Drew was more than supportive. He made sure you weren’t burning yourself out with the planning and work. So if that meant him picking a DJ while you got a few hours of rest, he was happy to do it.

Though it was going to be a rather small affair, you had a vision and it would finally come into fruition.

In all honesty, you thought this day would never come. And when you had imagined it, for a while you imagined it being with Rudy. But now, the only person you can picture waiting for you at the alter was Drew.

“Okay, Y/N, how are you feeling?” Madison asked you. “Yeah are you okay? Do you need anything? Do you want to run?” Madelyn added, hanging up your reception dress. “Madelyn.” Lilah scolded the blonde.

“No, I’m not going to run.” You laughed. “I’m ready for this, I just hate the waiting.” You added. “Well, we have about ten minutes until we line up.” Madison said.

Madison took charge in making sure everything was on time so you didn’t have to worry about anything on your wedding day.

“You’re going to be Y/N Starkey at the end of the day.” Madelyn commented. The room fell in an unbelievable silence as all of the women took time to process that thought.

“I’m going to be a Starkey.” You said in a hushed tone. “Don’t cry yet! You’ll ruin your makeup. Wait until you walk down the aisle before you mess it up.” Lilah scolded you.

You finished getting yourself ready, shaking the nerves out of your body every so often.

At the other end of the aisle, Drew stood with his parents and your parents as the rest of the guests chattered.

“Well, Drew, how are you feeling?” Chase asked. “I feel great. Excited. I just want to see her already.” He answered. “You have 5 minutes. Then she’ll be your wife.” Chase said.

Drew had a giddy smile on his face at the sound of you being his wife. Wishing time would go faster so he could see you walk down the aisle.

He got his wish though when music started playing and every quieted down. Your bridal party walked down one by one and Drew was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Then it was like he was watching every dream of his come true the second you began walking towards him. It was cheesy but he had never seen a person look so beautiful and timeless as he thought you did.

He told himself he wouldn’t cry, try to be manly or his brother would never shut up about it. But how could he not want to cry when the most beautiful woman was walking down the aisle?

You stopped at the alter next to him, giving him a wink which caused him to chuckle lightly at you. The usual, traditional ceremonial stuff went by in a blur and soon they were asked to recite their vows.

You and Drew had decided to write your own vows and he found it a difficult task to do so. He didn’t know how to describe his love for you in words.

The wedding officiant turned to Drew, signaling him to go first.

“Oh wow. Okay.” He started taking a deep breath. “Not too long ago, I fell in love with a girl. I’d fallen for this beautiful girl who was so much more than pretty. She was smart, she was funny, she was brave. She had a past that wasn’t all that lovely, yet she still put a smile on her face and never looked back. And as much as she likes to say she doesn’t deserve me, I often feel it’s the other way around.” He continued.

You gave him a teary eyed smile and gave his hands a squeeze, as you could see him getting choked up.

“Y/N, I love you. And I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once in a lifetime love. I vow to love you, and no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find our way back to each other.” Drew finished.

You hadn’t even done your vows and you were already a mess. You had to look up at the sky to keep your makeup the same.

“Drew. You were the one person in my life who remained a constant from the moment I met you. I didn’t know you were what I needed until I found myself in a very dark place. You were the light that made the dark place not so dark anymore. And I have fallen more and more in love with you everyday since then. I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness, and to have the patience love demands. To speak when words are needed, and to share the silence when they’re not and to live within the warmth of your heart and always call it home.” You finished.

You could tell that your bridesmaids and wedding guests couldn’t help but cry along with you and your soon to be husband.

Soon, it was time to exchange the rings and you giddily slid Drew’s wedding band on his ring finger, him doing the same to you. “Can we get to the kissing now?” Drew whispered to the officiant.

You laughed at him and nudged him slightly, hinting at him to be patient.

“Drew, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The man asked. “I do.” Drew answered. “And do you, Y/N, take Drew to be your lawfully wedded husband?” He asked you. “I do.” You replied.

“By the power vested in me and the state of North Carolina, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Now, Drew, you may kiss the bride.” The officiant announced.

“Thank god.” Drew muttered as he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply. After a few moments and to a standing ovation, Drew grabbed your hand and thrusted his fist in the air victoriously.

The both of you walked back down the aisle together, giving smiles to your friends and family. When you were finally able to have a moment alone to yourselves, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

“I love you, Mr. Starkey.” You whispered. “And I love you, Mrs. Starkey.” Drew replied. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing that.” You said. “I’m never going to get tired of saying it.” He said back.

@y/n__: Mr. & Mrs. Starkey at your service @ drewstarkey

@drewstarkey: forever my girl @y/n__

#imagine #imagines #outer banks #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey #rudy pankow #chase stokes #madelyn cline #madison bailey #jonathan daviss #austin north

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years ago

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Rehearsal Dinner Disaster–Zac Efron

I was too busy fixing the flower arrangements to notice Zac walk up behind me. I gasped as he wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned his chin on my shoulder.

"They look beautiful, babe," he whispered.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Do the colors clash? Are they too out of season? They match the bouquets perfectly but. . . "

Zac laughed as he unwrapped his arms from around me, spun me around, and pressed his lips to mine. I sighed before starting to kiss him back.

I broke the kiss and leaned back, wrapping my arms around his neck. I bit my lip and glanced over my shoulder at the flowers.

"Are you sure they look okay?"

"Babe," he chuckled. "The only thing more beautiful than the flower arrangements is you."

I blushed as I giggled and shook my head. I wrapped my arms tighter around him, pulling him closer to me.

"Just a few more days and I get to call you my wife," he smirked.

"Just a few more days and I get to call you my. . ."

"Y/N!"

Zac and I both jumped as my sister came running into the room. "Your caterer is on the phone. It sounds like there is a problem with getting the food here for the rehearsal dinner or maybe it was the reception. I can't remember what he said. You have to handle it. I don't know what you want and his French accent is really hard to understand."

"It's okay," I soothed her. "Just give me the phone."

I sent Zac a look as my sister walked out of the room, mumbling about never getting married. He laughed as he walked over and kissed my cheek.

"The joys of wedding planning," he whispered.

Things only got crazier from there. My mother was frantically running around before the rehearsal dinner and didn't stop the entire night. I couldn't enjoy the dinner because my mom was worried about the plans for the ceremony, my dad was focused on trying to threaten Zac, my sisters were complaining about the bridesmaid dresses, and the groomsmen were rating my friends.

I had just calmed my mother down after she found out that the caterer called to cancel the steak and replace it with salmon. I walked around the corner, trying to hide from everyone.

"There you are."

I looked up to see Zac walking towards me. His smile fell when he saw the look on my face. He jogged over, gently grabbing my arms.

"What's wrong?" He asked, lowering his voice.

"I can't. . . There's so much to. . . And everyone. . . This is supposed to be our weekend and everyone wants something and I just. . ."

When my voice broke, Zac pulled me into his chest. He rubbed my back and kissed my temple.

"Have you had anything to eat?" He whispered.

"I haven't had the chance," I stuttered. "Whenever I go to the food, something comes up and I need to fix it."

"Let's get you something to eat," he smiled down at me. "I'll cover you."

Zac and I finally got peace as we ate. Whenever someone tried to come and ask me a question or talk about tomorrow, Zac politely turned them away.

"Are weddings always this crazy?" I sighed after Zac turned away my frantic mother for the tenth time since we sat down.

"Wouldn't know," he shrugged. "This is my first wedding."

I sent him a playful glare making him laugh. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

"It's okay," he sighed. "I know things are crazy and I wish I could tell you that they'll calm down but they won't. What I can tell you is that I will be right here with you. If you ever need a break or need to find somewhere to hide so you can catch your breath, I'll help you escape."

I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smirk as he started to kiss me back.

"Y/N. Oh! Sorry."

We pulled apart when we saw my sister blushing. "I just came to tell you that mom was looking for you. Something about matching her new shoes to her dress for tomorrow."

"Okay," I laughed. "I'll go find her. Thanks."

She nodded before turning on her heel and walking away. I sighed as I looked back at Zac.

"It never ends."

* * * * *

By the time the rehearsal dinner was over, I was exhausted. I walked into my hotel room, instantly kicking off my heels. I collapsed onto the couch, my eyes watering.

"You okay?"

I looked up to see Zac walking into my room. He sat next to me, pulling me into his chest.

"I'm so tired, baby," I whispered, my voice getting caught in my throat.

"I know," he whispered. He held me close to his chest, slightly rubbing my arm. "We just have to get through tomorrow then it's you and me the rest of our lives."

"Just tomorrow?" I sighed, sitting up and pulling out of his embrace. "Zac, ever since we got engaged, it's been one thing after another. We haven't even been able to enjoy being engaged. At our engagement party, my mother wanted to plan everything. I mean, have we even been alone since the night we got engaged?"

"Well, I guess not," he stuttered as I stood up.

"See?" I said. I started to pace back and forth as I rambled. "I feel like we can't enjoy being engaged and planning our wedding because every time we turn around, something is wrong. My parents want input, my sisters want to choose their dresses, your parents aren't getting enough input and. . ."

Zac jumped up and caught me when my legs gave out. He led me to the couch and sat next to me.

"Y/N," Zac said gently. "Babe, just breathe."

"This is too much," I whispered. "Everyone is driving me crazy. My sisters hate the dresses, my cousin is bothering me about her vegan meal, our groomsmen and bridesmaids seem to either be trying to kill each other or sleep together."

Zac shushed me as he ran his fingers through my hair, playing with it. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against his chest.

"I can't do this," I said under my breath.

"You can't marry me?" He asked softly.

"No," I said quickly as I pulled out of his embrace. "That's not what I can't do, baby. I can't get married with all of this crap going on, all this drama. It's too much."

"Hey," he whispered, gently cutting me off. "I love you, Y/N. And I'm sorry that our wedding is crazy, but that's not what matters. What matters is that this time tomorrow, we will be husband and wife. What matters is that we love each other and are going to spend the rest of our lives together."

"I love you," I whispered. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. When he pulled away, he leaned us both back into the couch.

I sighed as I leaned my head on his shoulder. Zac chuckled as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. We sat in silence, enjoying this moment of peace before the chaos to come tomorrow.

"Why don't we just get married tonight?" Zac said suddenly.

"What?" I asked as I sat up and looked at him.

"Let's do it," he smirked. "The courthouse isn't that far away and we already have our marriage license."

"You're serious," I mumbled under my breath.

"I am," Zac said eagerly. "Let's go. Right now. That way we can have our perfect private wedding tonight and then whatever happens tomorrow happens, but we won't care because we already had our private wedding the night before."

I started nervously chewing my bottom lip as I waited to see if he was kidding. He wasn't.

"I'm in," I said with a nervous giggle.

* * * * *

I smoothed out my wedding dress before walking out of the bathroom. I walked over to the front door where Zac was waiting for me. I cleared my throat, making him turn around. His eyes instantly filled with tears as he smiled widely. He chuckled as he covered his mouth.

"Wow," he said under his breath, his voice breaking. "You look. . ."

I nervously tucked a piece of hair behind my ear as Zac walked over to me. He took my hands in his, still looking at me in my dress.

"You look so beautiful," he whispered. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine. He broke the kiss, his face still inches from mine.

"Let's go get married, baby."

We snuck out of the hotel without anyone from the wedding party seeing us. The whole way to the courthouse, Zac held my hand. Every once in a while, he'd bring our intertwined hands up to his lips and kiss my knuckles.

As we pulled up to the courthouse, parked the car, and headed inside, I wasn't nervous at all. I didn't have an ounce of doubt in my mind as we waited our turn.

"Efron wedding?"

Zac and I looked at each other, our smiles widening when he reached over and grabbed my hand. He stood up, pulling me with him. He didn't look away as he pulled out a small bouquet of flowers.

"Where did you get those?" I giggled.

"Gift shop," he shrugged. "I went in while you were in the bathroom."

"Zac," I said, happy tears coming to my eyes.

"Every bride deserves a bouquet on her wedding day."

I grabbed the flowers, my hand on top of his. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. I instantly broke the kiss, lowering off my toes.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," he smiled. "Now, let's go get married."

* * * * *

After Zac and I got married at the courthouse, we headed back to the hotel. Without a word, Zac escorted me back to my hotel room. When we got there, I hesitated outside the door. I turned towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I don't want to go in there," I whispered.

"Y/N," he chuckled.

"At least not alone."

My innocent smile turned into a knowing smirk. Zac chuckled as he pulled me closer into his chest. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled as our lips started moving in sync. We managed to get my hotel room open without breaking the kiss.

We laughed as we walked into the room, Zac kicking the door shut behind us. He finally broke the kiss, his smirk slowly fading.

"I love you so much," he whispered. "And I am so excited to start our life together."

"I love you too, baby."

* * * * *

"Oh my!"

Zac and I jolted awake when we heard my mother gasp. I quickly grabbed the hotel blanket and made sure my mom didn't see me naked in bed with my husband.

"Good morning, Mrs. Y/L/N," Zac said with a goofy smile on his face.

"What are you doing in here, mom?" I asked, slightly clearing my throat.

"We were supposed to have breakfast before we started getting you ready," she said slowly.

"Right," I laughed awkwardly. "Give me ten minutes and I'll meet you in the lobby."

Mom glanced over at Zac and clearing her throat. She nodded quickly before turning on her heel and leaving. I let out a sigh of relief as I heard the door open and close.

"Well," I said as I cleared my throat. "That was embarrassing."

"Ehh," Zac shrugged as he snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me back into his chest. I let out a little giggle as he kissed my neck, nibbling on my skin.

He bit my neck before whispering in my ear, "Your mom seeing us in bed together will most likely be a footnote to the chaos that is yet to ensue."

#zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader #wedding imagine

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barkkletshunt · 4 years ago

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Those Worth Fighting For Part four

Have you ever seen a fic update so fast? Four updates in two days?

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part five

Part six

Part seven

Part eight

“While I like the idea of them having a red, green, and gold colour scheme going on, don’t you think it would have too much of a christmas theme and take away from the magic of their wedding?” Marinette sat on the same couch as Felix did, across from Kagami and Adrien who, despite their careful appearances, looked frazzled.

“But those are our favourite colours,” Adrien tried, but Felix held his hand up to stop his cousin.

“Your wedding is in late spring, if you think for a moment that christmas colours are appropriate for that time of year then you need to hand over your fathers fashion industry to me right now.” Felix sipped at his now cold cup of coffee. “If anything, we could do red and gold and have green accents if we used things like leaves and give it a more rustic feel.”

“But that wouldn’t go well with their general aesthetic. They need to look like a king and queen, not a cottagecore couple.” Marinette countered. “I think we could go with a green, gold, and cream theme. That way they both get one of their favourites while keeping with the posh style. Either way, no matter what gold has to be a part of it. That I will not budge on.”

“If we made Adrien’s tie green it would bring out his eyes more.” Felix hummed, looking over at his co-planner. “You have good tastes, Marinette.”

“Why thank you, Felix, your tastes aren’t so bad yourself.” She said back.

The two planners had successfully gotten their way with the wedding with everything they had put forth. Marinette’s ideas were either on point with Felix’s or close to it so the planning was going a lot easier than either of them had expected. Both had spent enough time with the bride and groom to know their likes and dislikes and due to their fashion background they knew what they were doing.

They were unstoppable, not that Kagami and Adrien even tried. They saw the fire that was lit behind their companions' eyes and knew better, and it wasn’t like they didn’t like anything their friends had said. In fact, the more the two spoke the more excited Kagami and Adrien felt about the upcoming event.

“Why don’t we make the groomsmen wear gold ties, just so that Adriens tie doesn’t fade in with the rest of them.” Marinette rambled, showing Felix the designs she had tucked away in her portfolio that she refused to show Kagami. “If you wear green too your eyes will stand out and Adrien is supposed to be the one people are paying attention to.”

“Should the bridesmaids wear green then? If that dress design is anything to go by we don’t want Kagami to blend in with the other girls.” Felix hummed, sliding closer to Marinette without thinking about it. “Can’t have you stealing the show from the bride, you know.”

Marinette’s face grew warm at the compliment, even if it did match her unintentional flirting moments earlier. The added proximity didn’t help, but she could pull herself together. This was Felix, after all, and despite how nice he had been that evening she still needed to see more of him before passing a proper judgement on him.

The two planners missed the looks between the future Mr. and Mrs Agreste.

“Well, after the akuma attack today I feel exhausted. I think I shall turn in tonight, since the two of you have it covered.” Kagami said as she stood from her seat.

“Did you want me to make you a coffee?” Adrien asked innocently enough, but was immediately shut down.

“No, if I have a coffee now I won’t sleep.” Kagami raised her brow at her fiance, wondering if he had caught her drift yet. “And you have business to take care of in the morning. Let’s leave the planning to these two, shall we?”

The blonde man abruptly stood up, realizing what she was getting at. “Oh, oh! Yeah! Of course! They don’t really need our input for any of this stuff anyways, and I’m definitely beat after that sentimonster. We should go to bed.”

The owners of the house bid their goodnights and quickly escaped from the room, leaving Marinette and Felix sitting there dumbfounded.

“Have, have they always been that obvious in their plans?” Felix finally asked, breaking the silence that had stretched on after their friend's departure.

Marinette shook her head, “I have only seen them like that once when they were trying to plan a surprise birthday party for me.”

“And how well did that go for them?”

“Adrien ordered the cake from my parents bakery over the phone, but didn’t realize that I was the one taking his order.” Marinette recalled the look of horror on Adrien’s face when he had come to pick the cake up the day prior, and had begged Marinette not to tell Kagami he blew it. “For someone so smart he can be really oblivious, you know.”

“I did live with him for two years, I am well aware of how he can be.” Felix snorted. He shifted positions so he was facing towards Marinette. “I think it actually turned me into a better person, to be honest.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette mirrored his position on the couch. Adrien was an open book to her, she could ask him anything about himself and he’d answer her, and when she asked about his time in England he never said much about it. She couldn’t miss hearing about it from a second party, though. Especially when her friend was the cause of someone becoming a better person.

“Well, as I’m sure you are aware I was a terrible teenager.” Felix started.

“What? You? The man who deleted my love confession and mocked our friends?” Marinette jokingly pushed his shoulder. “I don’t believe it.”

Felix grinned, “I know, I know. I’m such a saint now. I wasn’t sure if you had even recognized me at first.”

“It was a bit difficult without those devil horns you used to wear.”

“Oh those? Those were natural. Grew them myself. Kind of miss them, actually.”

The two laughed for a moment, enjoying their friendly banter that seemed to come so easily to them.

“Okay,” Marinette giggled, “tell me how our sweet sunshine child managed to change the demon known as Felix.”

“Well, when he first moved in I was sent into a whirlwind of emotion.” Felix started, “I was still angry that Adrien had abandoned me when my father had died because his father wouldn’t let him call or text us, but I also knew how terrible it was to lose a father even if it was only to a lifetime imprisonment. I had so much baggage that I took it out on him. I think I made the first few weeks of his stay with us hell.”

The blonde man shifted, no longer wanting to look her in the eye as he confessed to his crimes. It didn’t take a trained psychoanalyst to see the regret he felt coming out and causing him to fidget.

“It was when he transferred into my school and started to get bullied that I changed my tune.” Marinette was shocked. Adrien was so loveable and kind, how could anyone have bullied him? Then it donned on her. He was a terrorist's son. “People would shove notes in his locker with butterflies on it, or draw on his desk, and he’d just smile and say that they must have been doing it because of his fathers fashion symbol being a butterfly. Perhaps he wasn’t oblivious to it, but purposefully ignorant. No one would want to believe their father was the supervillian of Paris after all.”

“It was then that I decided to switch my targets from my cousin to those bullying him, and oh was I ever brutal. I had a few of them expelled for harassment, some I actually got physical with since they assumed I was Adrien. Either way, it was my school and I wasn’t going to let anyone insult my cousin. That was my job.” Felix’s brows pulled together. “It was the fights that got Adrien to step in. He reminded me that the emotions of people were complicated things, and that they were acting out more out of fear than actual hatred towards him. He told me what he actually needed wasn’t another bodyguard, but someone to lead his PR campaign.”

Marinette remembered when Adrien’s image in the media had changed the first time, when he went from brilliant model to the heir to Hawkmoth's legacy. It had taken almost another full year of Adrien working harder than he ever had before to show the world that he wasn’t a monster, and it still took a live interview from Ladybug herself to convince the rest of the public that there was no way Adrien was involved in any of his fathers crimes nor was he a holder of a miraculous. It had been a wild ride from start to finish, but all considering it only took two whole years to get Adrien back in the world's good graces when the sunshine boy didn’t think he’d ever be able to live it down.

“I spearheaded Adrien’s redemption. We donated to so many relief funds, I used our similar appearances to go onto talk shows to give a more calculated interviews. I did everything in my power to make people realize how inherently good Adrien is, and it worked.” Felix let out a long breath before turning a kind smile towards her. “But by the time all of that was done I had changed. I had become a person Adrien was proud of, and now I am here planning his wedding with his best friend. Whom, might I add, he talked about almost as much as he did his own girlfriend.”

“Now if you could have told me that, say, five years ago I would have been ecstatic.” Marinette set her portfolio down on the coffee table as she remembered how intense her crush for Adrien used to be. “But I am long over my crush on Adrien.”

“I am sorry about that, by the way.”

“Hm?” Marinette tilted her head to the side, not sure what he was talking about.

“Deleting your confession.” He explained. “It was wrong of me. I was jealous and petty and I’m sorry.”

Marinette wasn’t angry anymore, even if she wanted to be. Felix wasn’t the same as he was all those years ago and neither was she. It was silly for her to hold onto all that anger when he had changed himself so completely.

“I am, however, not sorry you didn’t end up with my cousin.” He grinned. “Now I might have a chance.”

Maybe not so completely.

“In your dreams, devil boy!”

#TWFF #Those worth fighting for #felix x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #marinette #felinette #fanon felix #felix graham de vanily #kagami tsurugi #adrien agreste #Im definitely making adrien dumb but he has a heart of gold #Part Four

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writingsfromhome · 4 years ago

Text

Seaside Surprise

A/N: trying a fluffy fic, Y/N and Harry attend a cousin's wedding and you wonder when it's going to be your turn.

"Ms. Y/L/N?" My assistant pokes her head into my office. She has on the type of grin on her face that I know what she's going to say. "Your boyfriend's here."

"Of course he is," I decide I wasn't going to finish this report tonight after all. I asked Harry to wait in the car but of course he came up and charmed his way to my department. Not that my department minded, they were always bursting to see him. "Tell him I'll be a moment."

I slide my laptop into its case and do a quick touch up before heading out. "Hey," I give him a loving smile but my eyes are warning him.

"Hello love," he purposely ignores my warning and gives me a peck. "You've got a lovely staff."

I can practically hear the swooning so I just grab his jacket and haul him off the chair. "They're all very lovely. Let's go before we're late. Happy weekend everyone!"

"Bye ladies," Harry stays behind and rushes to catch up. He puts his hand on the small of my back as he reaches me. "Jealous?"

"No, I just don't know why you lead them on whenever you come up here."

"Well they know their boss is my girlfriend," Harry tugs me to him and kisses the top of my head. "It's nice getting to know the people you work with."

"If that's what you want to call it," I give up on the argument. "Do you think we'll get there by 6?"

"Traffic's not as bad if we hurry, rehearsal dinner's at 7 so that's the latest."

As we step into the lift and go down to the parking garage, I think about the destination ahead. A cousin of mine was getting married, they'd rented out this old castle where a lot of the guests were staying. It sounded magical--getting married in a castle.

I look at Harry, who's backing out and starting the two hour journey there. We met a few years ago and aside from some uncertainty at the beginning, we've been going strong for four years. We talked about kids and our dream weddings but I never fully knew whether he wanted to get married. Or if he was one of the don't fix what isn't broke type. I've always secretly wanted the big wedding so I never asked Harry in case he didn't want that. It would be crushing.

"What are you so quiet about?" Harry glances over.

"Oh just thinking, about the wedding tomorrow. Dinner tonight. I'm going to see a bunch of my family, that stuff."

"Hm," he hums. To avoid further conversation I turn on the radio and settle in for the drive.

***

With traffic we barely make it for 7, having just enough time to look decent before heading to the dining hall. I'm excited seeing all my family and I tear up as we all gather around and catch up over dinner. We're given reminders for tomorrow and the timeline even though we all had the schedule sent to our phones.

"Are you crying again?" Harry leans in. All night he stayed by my side, his arm around me or his hand on my knee. It was comforting having him by my side.

"I'm trying not to," I dab at my eyes with the napkin. "I'm just so happy for everyone."

Harry squeezes my thigh, "You're such a romanticist as much as you deny it."

I look up at him, my heart skips a beat like we were young lovers. I felt incredibly lucky to have him and I want to tell him so I kiss him. "I am. And I'm glad you're here."

"Get a room!" One of my cousins shouts as Harry's about to respond. We break apart laughing and they tease us until we're visibly flustered. What was family for after all.

Later that night as I pin up my wet hair to sleep in, Harry sits up in bed and watches. "Is that for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, so I have nice curls in the morning. The ones you like."

"Hmm, you'll look beautiful tomorrow whatever way you do your hair." Harry says. "Even if you cut off all your hair. I would still love the way you look."

By then I was done so I get into bed beside Harry. "Is that what you want me to do? For me to cut off all my hair?"

Harry cups my face and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. He leans back and I watch his eyes on me. His thumb strokes the side of my face, when it was just the two of us like this. Quiet and alone, with Harry's undivided attention on me, I couldn't help but feel shy. So I grab his hand off my face and thread my fingers through his to have something to do. He finally responds, "I want you to do what you want."

"Well...what do I want..." I think.

"What do you want?" Harry asks back. And I have a feeling we weren't talking about hairstyles anymore. I look away, could he sense the lead up go the wedding has me thinking about him and I. Where we were headed?

"A nice holiday from work, away from the city. A cute puppy, maybe three. Hm what else...world peace, a nicer boyf-"

Harry cuts me off before I could get to the joke. He kisses me so hard I forget anything else I was going to say.

***

The next morning is blurry chaos and I hardly believe I'm standing at the front watching my cousin walk down the aisle in her beautiful ivory dress. I can't help it, I tear up as my heart overflows when she reaches the front and I scan the crowd for my own love. Harry also has tears in his eyes and he's beaming at me. I smile through the tears and focus my attention to the front.

As soon as the newly married couple walk down the aisle the bridesmaids burst into tears. We hug each other, we were all so happy. I find Harry in the crowd and both of our mushy romantics feelings are just heightened by everyone else. Being in love never felt so good than at a wedding surrounded by everyone you do love.

I tell Harry I'll catch up later, heading off with the bridesmaids to help the bride change for the reception.

"So when is Harry going to pop the question?" My cousin asks as I hold her dress in my hands. "How long have you two been dating?"

"Four years," I say self consciously. My cousin dated her husband for two years before he proposed.

"Do you want to get married?" One of the bridesmaid asks.

"Duh," my cousin answers for me. "Y/N remember when we were kids and we made flower crowns and pretended to have fairy weddings?"

"Oh my god," The memory rushes forward. "I forgot about that."

"That's what adulthood does," someone else says. "Makes you forget all your dreams."

"Well it's not like we haven't talked about it," I feel like I have to defend Harry. "It just hasn't been the right time."

"After three years, any time is the right time." Someone else says. I try to brush off but the comments stay with me. Was there something wrong with us, with me, that Harry wasn't proposing?

Halfway through the reception, I catch Harry talking to the groom and I wait around but he doesn't notice so I interrupt them. They both look guilty.

"Hey, congrats, welcome to the family!" I hug the groom but eye them both. "Why do you two seem suspicious?"

"We do?" Harry asks. "You need to let loose, let's dance."

I keep an eye on him but he acts normal, pulling me onto the sparse dancefloor. He tries to make me laugh with his dancing and eventually I give in.

"What's wrong?" He asks later, as the songs slow down. I rest my head on his shoulder, so he doesn't see my face. He always knew when I was lying.

"Nothing," I lie.

"Something's been bothering you since we drove here yesterday. What is it?" Harry asks again.

I sigh. "It's nothing! Just leave it."

Harry doesn't say anything, he just holds me closer. I feel selfish and ungrateful. I had a man who loved me holding me close but I wanted more. Just because everyone couldn't stop commenting on our love life.

Harry tries to cheer me up and I try my best but my mood from the morning shines through only so much. Harry doesn't push it though, even when I crawl into bed while he showers and pretend to fall asleep when he gets out. He just leaves me with a kiss on my cheek and falls asleep beside me.

***

"Morning," Harry says as I wake up groggy and tired from all the dancing in heels I did last night. Harry is up, and ready.

"When did you get up?" I sit up.

"Not too long ago."

"You're dressed," I point out.

"And starving! Get dressed we can get breakfast. We have to be out of here by noon."

I move like a snail, trying to work up the energy for the day. It's sad to say goodbye to everyone, it was rare for everyone to be in the same place at the same time and I was going to miss it. We get back on the road by 11. The breeze whips my hair around but I close my eyes and embrace the beautiful weather.

"Having fun?" Harry asks but I can barely hear him in the roar of the wind.

"Country air really is superior," I sit back inside. I notice we were still on back roads. "Are you sure we're going in the right direction?"

"Yes, I've got the maps pulled up."

"I think we're lost," I lean towards the phone but it shows we're on the mapped path. "Harry pull over we should look at this again."

"Y/N, we're not lost."

"Because you know this area so well? We're supposed to be on main roads by now!"

"We'll get there," Harry says calmly and it frustrates me how calm he was. I just knew we weren't heading right.

"Just pull over, at least we can know for sure."

"Just trust me, we're not lost."

"Oh my god," I look around us. "You're being really bloody stubborn Harry! I know this town and we're not driving through it like we should."

Harry doesn't respond. Like I was an annoying fly buzzing about. I cross my arms and look out the window. "If we get lost, don't ask me for help." I say my final piece and decide to ignore him back. He had the audacity to chuckle at me. I want to take my seatbelt off and strangle him with it!

As we drive further and further in the wrong direction, a cooler breeze filters into the windows.

"I think we're by the water," I sit up, my fight forgotten.

"How do you know?" Harry asks.

"Because I'm part mermaid and I know we're going in the wrong bloody direction!"

"You're so impatient," Harry mutters just as he takes a turn and a parking space comes into view. Were we headed here the whole time?

I look at Harry who has a secret smile on his face. As soon as he parks I take off his sunglasses to read him better.

"Where are we?" I can't hide the excitement. Did he plan a surprise getaway?

"You'll see," Harry walks out and opens my door for me. He holds my hand as we make our way in his direction.

"I've never been here before, when did you plan this?" I continue asking as we walk further.

"I have to cover your eyes," he says. He pulls out his tie from the wedding and I close my eyes. When I open them, it's completely dark except for a small sliver of light on the top. I listen out for Harry's distinct voice.

"Just keep walking," he instructs. "Hold my hand, you'll probably fall if you don't."

"I probably will," I laugh. "You should've told me about this, I would've packed a picnic."

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise," Harry squeezes my hand. "Okay stand here and don't take it off until I say so." His sentence fades out as he moves behind me. My heart was racing on our walk here but now it's beating out of my chest, this was why I sort of hated surprises. It made my palms slick and heart race like I was on a roller coaster.

I strain to hear Harry, the sea laps gently to the right and I can't stop my foot from tapping away in anticipation.

"Take it off," Harry says. I push it off and my breath catches.

A picnic is laid out with two baskets and a bottle on ice. But it's the chalkboard propped up in the sand that catches me by surprise. I read it, twice: marry me?

I gasp and turn around, Harry kneels on one knee and in his hands is a small velvet box, a gorgeous diamond nestled in the cloth.

"Y/N, I don't know why it took me so long to finally ask you. But will you make me the luckiest man alive and marry me?"

My voice gets stuck in my thoat as my eyes water. I just nod, that's all I could do. I drop down in front of him and pull him in, the burst of tears following suite. As he wraps his arms around me. I finally find my voice, "Yes! Of course a million yesses! I though you...I never thought you'd ask. When did you plan all this?!"

I can feel Harry's laugh. He pulls me apart, I didn't even care I probably had snot and tears on my face because the man I love takes my hand and slips the ring on my finger. I was his to-be forever. He wanted to marry me! And all my fretting over the weekend was for no reason!

"I've been planning this for weeks. I found this place and your family helped set it up this morning that's why I was up so early." He points to the distance and two people stand there waving with their cameras.

"Oh my god Harry, this is the happiest day of my life," I kiss him with everything in me. He made me so happy. I can't believe I doubted us.

"Mine too," he slowly leans me back onto the picnic blanket but I remember my family and push him off. He laughs at my embarassment. "I'll tell them to leave. Then we can have our fun?"

"Hurry back," I watch him run in their direction. They end up walking back worh him. to drop off his camera and to say congrats. As soon as they disappear into the horizon I climb onto Harry's lap and just hold his face. "You make me the happiest girl in the world. The entire universe. I love you so so so much." I kiss him with ever "so".

"Just me and you against the world forever," Harry whispers.

"Sounds perfect." I whisper back.

Harry's eyes are shining. We could hardly contain our feelings for each other, how happy we were. I lean back and form my hands into a rectangle frame. I pretend to capture it which makes Harry laugh and pull me back to him, "Just come here so I can kiss my fiancée."

My heart soars just hearing the word.

#Harry Styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #fic #one shot

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qvid-pro-qvo · 4 years ago

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Hello sweetie. May I have 7) “I dreamt about you last night.”, 14) “Can I have this dance?”, “I couldn’t live without you.” and “I’m yours, in every way possible.” with Sonny Carisi (I'm heads over heels for that man) with female reader, please. Thanks :) - @reading--mermaid

for @reading--mermaid. sonny carisi x female!reader.

word count: 2240

rating: e for everyone, because a wedding brings everyone together, for better or for worse, but in this case definitely for the better (pretty much fluff! tw: mentions of alcohol.)

For the moment, you remember why you wish you could be an only child.

“You’re bringing your boyfriend. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

“You know, when I dreamt about you last night, I completely forgot about the part where you’re absolutely insane,” you comment mildly. Your hand reaches for your glass, and Jane just sighs. “Guess it just slipped my mind.”

“Uh-huh. So he’s coming, then?”

Your sister is glaring at you from across the table, but you don’t look at her, focusing instead on the brunch menu.

“Seems like I might try the scallops today,” you hum, and she just rolls her eyes.

“You’re allergic to seafood, dumbass, and you’re bringing your boyfriend.”

“No, I’m not, Jane.” Your voice is firm, and when she narrows her eyes at you, it’s your turn to give the dramatic roll. “Look. I don’t want to bring him. Barb’s my friend, and I love her, and I’m excited for her, but that wedding is going to be shitshow. The last thing I want is to scare him off because dear old Uncle Phil decides to get too rowdy and Aunt Julia decides to drink two bottles of wine instead of one at the reception.”

“That’s just how weddings work,” Jane counters, and when you open your mouth again to argue, she raises her hand. “It’s a shitshow, but it’s sweet. You’re a bridesmaid, sweetheart. And unless you want one of the bridal party trying to flirt with you all night, your boyfriend is the perfect protection. Plus, I want to meet him!”

With a sigh, you lift up your hand to tie your hair back, your scrunchie forcing the mess into a bun. “You’ve met him,” you say, with no lack of petulance, but Jane just sighs.

“Once. For like, ten minutes, in passing. You’re both always busy, and not only that, but I know Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind meeting the guy that you’re basically swooning over every time you talk to them on the phone. How long’s it been that you’ve been gushing about him? A year?”

That makes your brows raise, and Jane can surely see them even over the menu. “They’re coming, then? For sure?”

“For sure. Uncle Phil paid for their flight. Said he wanted the whole family there, and that means every brother they can manage.” There’s a moment of silence as Jane glances around. The waiter still hasn’t come for your order, and so she busies herself with a drink of water before speaking again, letting you ruminate on the fact. “Just. Think about it. Please? For me?”

So, you do. You think. And while the prospect of Sonny meeting your… eclectic family is terrifying; you can’t help but think that he’s… well. He’s Sonny. And when you think about him meeting your parents, finally…

With a sigh, you put down the menu, interlock your fingers, and when you look up, your sister is flashing her puppy eyes at you.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll ask. And if he’s not busy, which he always is, I’ll bring him,” you relent, just to get her to stop looking at you like that. There are practically tears in her eyes. Immediately she breaks out into a grin, a little cackle added on. “But you owe me the name of your firstborn. I don’t care what David says, sister’s honor.”

“No shit,” Jane returns. You shake on it, making you chuckle. “Easiest deal I’ve ever made.”

Sonny says yes. Immediately. No hesitation. It’s a testament to how fantastic he is that when you bring it up over takeout that night, he seems absolutely delighted at the prospect.

Of course, you try to warn him.

“You might not be available the day of,” you point out.

His response is easy as he takes off his jacket, drapes it over the back of your couch. “If you give me the date, I’ll take time off right now. Liv’ll be fine with it, you know that.”

“My parents will be there,” you warn, and while the moment gives him pause, he ends it with a smile.

“Good.”

Good. Good. To meeting the parents? You want to poke him, see if he’s an alien or something, but he’s still smiling and all you really can do is kiss him for it.

“You know, all of my family is a pain in the ass,” you state bluntly, a last ditch effort. He snorts, and you reach to stab him with your plastic fork, the takeout he brought home not yet opened up and dug into. “I’m serious! It’ll be a mess, okay, and if I can spare you that –“

He just chuckles, reaching to pull you into his embrace. You melt into it – by this point his button down is off, leaving just his undershirt. He smells like home, and you can’t help but sink into the feeling. “Sweetheart, that’s family. Trust me, all right? You’ve met my sisters, you’ve met my parents. It’s about time that I return the favor.”

When he kisses your temple, you’re realizing with a twist of your lips that he’s unfortunately pretty damn great.

“You know, you won’t be able to really talk to me until the first dances,” you tell him, just for shits and giggles, and that earns you another kiss, this one on your cheek, your neck, your jaw, behind your ear.

“But I’ll be able to see you.”

So, it’s done. The car is rented, the hotel is booked, and when the weekend of comes around, and the two of you hop into your car and make the three-hour ride up.

Of course, the wedding is about as much of a pain as you expected it to be.

It should be noted that you love being there for your cousin, and she looks absolutely stunning her gown. It’s not the gown, or your own dress (which is plain and deep burgundy, styled perfectly with a matching lip). It’s not the ceremony, which makes you tear up, as her and her wife seal the deal with a kiss that you hoot and holler at. It’s not the food or the drinks or the venue or anything else that came together for Barb’s perfect day.

It’s the family.

Aunt Julia goes just as hard as you expect her to. Uncle Phil’s jokes are crude, but… inevitably get a laugh from one side of the family or the other. Your nieces are chaos incarnate, and half your time as bridesmaid is spent wrangling the dog that was made the ring bearer, your bathrobe getting caught on every doorhandle in the place. By the time the reception comes around, you’re exhausted and close to tipping over, navigating the intricacies of a big family with poise and grace you’re sure God probably gave you just for that day or something.

It’s a mess.

It’s your mess.

And Sonny, that day? Well. Sonny… is Sonny.

Sonny helps you catch the dog the first time it escapes (and the second time, and the third time). Sonny, due to some last-minute stomach bug, ends up helping out as usher, and makes every single family member he escorts to their row and aisle and seat smile. Sonny, at his place at the table where your parents sit, spends the whole night chatting them up, and you and your sister at the table with the bride and groom, can only watch from a distance.

“He’s crushing it,” Jane tells you. David’s sitting there, too, and he’s also enraptured with your boyfriend. The weariness of the day starts to wear off, and now that the pictures are done the drink in front of you is white wine and your belly is full. “Don’t look now, but I think Dad’s writing the invitations for Thanksgiving.”

There’s a pride that fills you, then. It’s been coming the whole day, but in that moment, you feel like you’re about to burst. You’re grinning, and when he glances over to where you are, well.

“You know what? Let him,” you say, and your eyes don’t leave Sonny as he winks and goes back to his story. “He really is crushing it.”

Soon the meal is done. There’s cake, and laughter, and you watch as Barb shoves her piece into Meredith’s face with unbridled glee. At that point you look around for your boyfriend, but he’s nowhere to be found. Neither are your parents for that matter, and you’re sliding out of your heels so you can troll around, eating cake, looking around for them.

Eventually, though, they come back. It’s in the middle of the first dance when you feel the familiar presence behind you, and his hands move to wrap around your waist as you watch the brides sway together, the rest of their lives ahead of them.

“Just in time,” you tease. “I thought I’d have to go solo out there.”

He turns you, so your vision of the brides is now full of him. You haven’t got to linger on it yet, but right here and now, he looks stunning. While the men in the bridal parties have black suits, Sonny’s is a beautiful navy, with a pocket square that matches the color of your dress (you’re almost ninety percent sure it’s from that lawyer he knows, but you don’t bring it up, kind of hoping he’ll keep the full ensemble). “And keep the world from seeing my awesome dance moves? No way.”

You giggle. The wine, the meal, the end of the day approaching. You’re loose, and he’s smiling, which makes you grin. “Saw you dodging the chocolatey fingers of my nieces and baby cousins,” you point out, and his eyes widen for a second before he glances around, peeks over your shoulder.

“Yeah, just, uh, don’t tell ‘em where I am. I think it’s part of their game to see who gets the most fingerprints on me by the end of the night.”

The DJ announces the end of the first dance, welcoming the bridal parties onto the floor. Sonny lights up at this, and offers his hand to you. “Can I have this dance, beautiful?”

Your smile softens, just a tad. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The music is slow, but not glacial, and Sonny starts it off by holding you proper. Soon enough, though, you’re moving into each other, and your head is resting on his shoulder, the slow sway of the brides what you’re mimicking. It’s gentle, and sweet, and for the moment you allow yourself to close your eyes.

Everything else slips away. All that’s left is the music and Sonny against you. Your dress brushes against your feet, still bare and cold against the dance floor, but nothing can bring you out of this ecstasy.

His voice is low against your ear, almost raspy as the song fades into something new, and the DJ announces the rest of the group can join with their significant others. “You know, I had a good time with your parents,” he murmurs, and you laugh lazily against him.

“I noticed. Be careful, I think my mom was thinking of kidnapping you so you can tell her all the Carisi family recipes.”

“Now those are top secret,” he informs you, seriousness in his tone, and when you pull back to look at him there’s mirth, even with his little pout.

“Obviously. I’ll distract, and you’ll hit the road.”

He laughs now, and it’s easy. It’s like breathing, the two of you. “Right. Well. We did talk about other things, while I was ensuring the safety of my family’s legacy.”

That peaks your interest, and you raise a manicured brow. “Like what?”

For a moment, he pauses. He’s caught, looking at you, under the lights, and for a moment you think he’s not going to say anything at all. But then he leans in, presses your foreheads together, and the world stops.

“I told ‘em… I told ‘em I’m yours, in every way possible. I told ‘em how I couldn’t live without you, and I told ‘em how I don’t want to.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and when you blink a couple of tears fall. “Sonny…”

“I told them, how one day, I’m gonna propose, and I’m gonna ask you to marry me. And I told them, how I really, really, hope you say yes.” His voice is definitely raw, now, and your swallow is tight. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Of course not, I’m not proposing now, but. I just… I need you to know how much you mean to me. How much being a part of your family, how much it means to me. And… I hope you want to be a part of mine.”

The slow music ends. The DJ is cheering now, and the crowd is clapping, and soon something more upbeat starts. But you’re stopped, in the middle of the dance floor, and before you can think you’re pulling him into a deep kiss, pressing up into it on your toes.

When you pull back, your mascara is running. But you don’t care. You couldn’t possibly care less. “If you think I’m saying anything but yes, whenever the hell you ask me, Dominick, I –“

He kisses you again. And when the world fades away once more, it’s because the two of you know that your whole lives are ahead of you, too.

#prompt fill #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #dominick carisi jr #female!reader #law and order: svu #my fic #fluff #tw alcohol #mentions of alcohol

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damn-behzinga · 5 years ago

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I Can’t Wait For Forever

Ethan Payne (Behzinga) X Reader

summary - The Sidemen film your’s and Ethan’s wedding, here are the fan favourite bits.

warnings - lack of father figure, panicking, swearings, my terrible writing

request - Could you do something with ethan where it's your wedding day or something. Thank you x

Hey if it alright could you do an ethan imagine where it's our wedding day and maybe its filmed by the sidemen x it's alright if you dont

masterlist and request info

You and Ethan had gotten engaged a year and a half before you officially got married. Ethan proposed at your anniversary and you had announced it a few days later.

You had chosen to get married at an old manor house which had a beautiful garden especially during the summer you were due to get married in.

When you and Ethan gave your invites to the lads, Ethan sat them down and finally asked, "Will you lads be my groomsmen?"

The boys all beamed and pulled Ethan into a hug and started jumping. You chuckled and smiled softly, watching the boys interact.

"So, who's your best man then?" JJ asked, a grin on his face.

Ethan grinned and sighed. "I chose Charlie." The boys all looked at one and other sighed.

"What?" JJ exclaimed.

"Well, when you guys get married, Josh will choose Tobi and vice versa, Vik will choose Harry and vice versa, and Simon will choose JJ and vice versa. I didn't want to pick one of you lot over the other." Ethan explained. The pairs all nodded understanding completely, knowing not to argue with the groom to be.

"Can we film it?" Harry asked.

"I'll have to talk to y/n, but it could be fun. You guys could film you guys practising. I think we were planning on filming the wedding anyway."

You had agreed, thinking it would be fun if the men filmed their perspective of the wedding and how their morning went. So the men filmed the day and how the rehearsal the day before went.

You stood at the entrance of the manor house, You watched as each of the pairs of brides and grooms made their way up to alter before going to their respective side. First to walk up was Charlie and your best friend Lucy, followed by Simon and Talia, then JJ and Becky. As Harry and Katie walked up to the alter they unlinked their arms and quickly separated causing Ethan to groan.

"You come up to there and then walk away not walk away straight away! Have you lot been to a wedding before?" You laughed at Ethan's comment as Harry chuckled and apologised. They were followed by Josh and Freya, Tobi and Gee, and then Vik and your friend Steph. Then it was your two young cousins, the flower girl and page boy. The walked down the aisle together and then ran up to give Ethan a hug. Josh and Harry were messing around with the cameras not really paying attention to talk about what was happening to the viewers.

You had decided on pink dresses for the bridesmaids and blue suits for the groomsmen. Ethan wore a black suit which contrasted your white trumpet figured dress that had a long train. The dress had long sleeves and an open back, showing off your figure but also letting your remain covered.

The groomsmen were on the other side of the hotel and didn't tell you that JJ had lost his jewellery. Ethan was panicking trying to find this jewellery that you had spent way too long picking out. Ethan tried to remain calm for the camera and continued to search. Vik and Josh were calming him down as Simon, JJ, and Tobi were searching for the missing cufflinks. Ethan started to calm down and pulled out his phone to call his mum.

He put it on speaker his mum answered.

"Hello, darling, are you okay?" His mum's voice rang out. "Everything going smoothly?"

"Jide has lost his jewellery so they're searching for that and I'm nervous and excited and-"

"Has he checked the drawer next to the bed and the floor around it?" His mum interrupted. Ethan looked at the lads who quickly searched the area his mum pointed out. JJ held up the lost jewellery and gave a small sorry smile.

"You're a lifesaver!" Ethan groaned into the phone and his mum just chuckled.

"Anyway, you better not be getting cold feet right now!" His mother scolded. "Y/n is too lovely for that."

"No, I want to marry her. I can't wait to marry her!" Ethan exclaimed. "We've been planning this for a year and I don't want to get anything wrong."

"Everything will be fine. I promise you." Ethan's mum said calmly. "I can't wait to walk with you down the aisle."

Ethan got emotional talking to his mum, just a few months ago Ethan had cried to you about how he wasn't going to have a dad to walk down the aisle with or have a dad dance with you when you switched parents after the first dance. You had insisted that it was okay to dance with his mum and that you'd just have to switch it up.

"I'll see you in fifteen minutes, love." Ethan's mum said softly. Ethan said his goodbyes and hung up.

You and Ethan had decided to do a first look video before the actual ceremony because you wanted Ethan's genuine reaction. Ethan had waited and then you walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder. Ethan nervously turned around and as soon as he saw you, he bought a hand to his mouth and he looked you up and down.

"Hi." You whispered.

"You look- wow. You look so beautiful." He said softly. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly, his other hand reached up stroked your sleeved arm softly.

"Stop. I'm going to cry!" You exclaimed.

"Don't cry, your make up took so long!" Talia said, and the two of you laughed.

You soon had to separate and go settle down so you could walk down the aisle.

Ethan linked arms with his mum, getting ready to walk down the aisle. His mum pulled him down and planted a kiss on his cheek. And then it was time. Ethan walked down the aisle and made eye contact with his friends who smiled cheerily at him. Ethan stopped at the aisle and turned to kiss his mum's cheek. She grinned at him and patted his arm softly, tapping three times, a small sign they came up with when Ethan was a child to show that she loved him, Ethan tapped three times back. His mum took her seat and Ethan stood at the aisle. He greeted the celebrant and shook his hand.

"Congratulations." The celebrant smiled.

"Thank you so much." Ethan mirrored his smile.

Music started playing and Ethan immediately turned to watch the groomsmen and bridesmaids walking down the aisle. They all remembered what they had to do which relieved Ethan a bit. Ethan hugged your young cousins and they quickly moved on. Ethan then watched as you appeared at the other end of the hall, holding arms with your dad. You made eye contact with Ethan and waved quickly. He grinned and walked down the three steps to take your hand. He shook your dad's hand and you kissed your dad's cheek. Your dad took his seat as Ethan walked you up to the small stage.

As the celebrate started his speech, you stared at Ethan and grabbed his hand and stroked it softly.

"And now for the vows." The celebrant smiled, passing Ethan the microphone.

Ethan took a deep breath and started to recite his vows, "When we met, I was a lost person looking to be found. During dark times, you were my flashlight. During hard times, you were my sense of relief. During times when I felt as though I had nothing left in me, you helped me get back up and fight. So now, as I look at you in front of me as beautiful as ever, I can say with confidence that you are the embodiment of joy, kindness, love, life, and happiness. You helped me grow to be a better person and I can't thank you enough. I vow to always respect and value your opinions. I vow to listen to your rants about whatever show you're watching that I don't understand. I vow to try to never hurt you. I vow that no matter what happens, I will stand by your side. I vow to remind you of how beautiful you are in every way. I vow to be a shoulder to cry on when we rewatch Marley And Me. I vow to be the best I can for you and so much more."

You wiped your tears and chuckled softly at him before reciting your vows. "I was always known as the quiet, awkward girl in the back of the room but when I met you, you made me feel listened to and understood. When I couldn't get out of bed for the day because everything seemed too much, you would go out of your way to help me get up and relax. You were my reason then, my reason now, and my reason every day. When I felt I was stuck at the bottom of the mountain with no way of getting up, you provided climbing equipment and climbed with me. You have never left me behind and I can't thank you enough for that. I vow to give you my all and help you during hard times. I vow to watch football with you even though I don't understand what's going on. I vow to be most truthful self in front of you even if it's the ugly truth. I vow to be a shoulder to cry on when you watch Marley and Me because, although you won't admit it, you've cried more times over that than me. I vow to be by your side no matter what life throws at us. And I vow to love you as much as I can."

And soon after, the celebrant announced that "You may now kiss the bride.". Ethan cupped your cheek and pulled you into a kiss and dipped you slightly. You pulled apart and started to walk down the aisle towards the car that waited for you outside. You got into the car and waved at your friends before they drove you to the hotel where you spent some quality time together.

An hour later you arrived at the reception where the two of you were welcomed with a round of applause and cheer. You made your ways to the seats and people started raising their glasses as Josh stood to make a speech.

"When I met Ethan, he was a fat kid playing Fifa in Essex. We got along really well and there was a moment where me and Ethan, a few years later we were sitting on the couch after a shoot and he turned to me and he said he had gone on a date with this girl that he really liked. And I found that her name was y/n." Josh smiled at the two of you. "They hit it off and we met her a month later and dinner. And as y/n left to go to the bathroom, Ethan turned to us and said 'I'm going to marry that girl'." Ethan chuckled and blushed. "And all of us at the dinner had known that this was going to last forever. Y/n balanced Ethan out and after Ethan had told me he thought he was going to die alone, it was nice to see Ethan so hopeful about love. Y/n didn't like him because he was Behzinga or a YouTuber, she liked him for him, and Ethan needed a person like that in his life. So, as I stand here today, I want to thank Y/n for always being genuine and not letting Ethan getting too big of a head. I would wish you luck for the future ahead but I already know that you two are going to stand together through everything. So, I wish that you two live a happy and healthy life together because you deserve it. Thank you." Everyone clapped as you wiped away a few loose tears.

Your dad had stood up to make a speech. "There are times when I look at y/n and I see her as the girl I held in my arms, moments after she was born. When y/n was a teenager she made the decision to move to London, she was only eighteen and eager to live her life to the fullest. I remember a few years later during one of our weekly calls that she was going out with this guy called Ethan. Now I met Ethan a few months later because something had happened and we came together to help Y/n. Ethan was nervous meeting me and my wife but we quickly proved to him that y/n was the most important thing to us and she was to him as well." You sniffled as your dad made the speech. "It was so surreal having Ethan come up to me and ask me if he could take y/n's hand in marriage, and I remember turning to him and saying that he didn't need to ask because I was already so supportive of their relationship that I was surprised they weren't married already. I already have a beautiful daughter but I am so happy to welcome Ethan into our family with open arms." You cried and gave your dad a hug, not wanting to let go.

You had eaten your food and soon it was the first dance, Ethan and you had practised your slow dance for months and you were relieved when you managed to get to the final dip successfully. You danced with your dad and Ethan danced with his mum, softly whispering to one and another about how proud they were. You had talked with Ethan about dancing with your mum but Ethan felt off because he didn't have a dad for you to dance with. So, as Ethan started to dance with your mum, you took his mum's hands and started swaying with her. Ethan met your eyes across the dance floor and smiled at you. You then cut into the red velvet cake and fed it to each other.

You continued to dance with everyone, socializing with all the guests, eager to see them all. And obviously you had to play some top tunes so when Beerus came on, all you jumped to the dance floor and hyped JJ up. The night was full of love and laughter and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Right, welcome back to Sidemen Sunday and before we get into it, let's give a round of applause to Ethan in his first Sidemen video being a married man!" Josh cheered. Ethan grinned at the camera, showing off his new wedding ring as everyone cheered.

"How does it feel to be married?" Vik asked.

"Like the same, except I have a ring on." Ethan joked. "Nah, I've never been happier. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me and I got to share the experience with you guys and we filmed it so I can hold that memory forever."

"Thank you for letting us be groomsmen." Tobi smiled

"Still pissed you didn't choose me to be best man." JJ huffed jokingly.

"Anyways." Ethan rolled his eyes. "I loved it and you guys coming up with the idea to film getting ready, that was brilliant."

"I watched the videos you guys did without me whilst I was on honeymoon and you lot lost the plot without me lads." Ethan chuckled.

"How was your honeymoon? You went to South Korea right?" Simon asked.

"It was good actually! Lovely weather, we did so much, it was surreal!" Ethan chuckled. "Honestly, go there if you have the chance.

"Anyways, shall we move on with the video?" Josh asked and then everything quickly went back to how it usually was in a sidemen video, except this time, Ethan got to say 'My Wife'.

#behzinga x reader #sidemen #ethan payne #behzinga #ethan payne x reader #behzinga imagine #behzinga fanfiction #behzinga fluff #ethan payne imagine #ethan payne oneshot #ethan payne fanfiction #sdmn

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msilwrites · 3 years ago

Text

(A 3AM Update) A True Gentleman, Chapter 20 - A case of jealousy

A/N: Hi guys! Chapter 20 is up! Enjoy reading and tell me what you think in the comments below.

TWENTY

A case of jealousy

Diana stared at the large tall ceiling of the concert hall. Right now, she's lying down on the stage, with a book on top of her rib cage, whilst doing vocal exercises and singing. Without a doubt, any member of the orchestra knew it was Aedan's doing.

As Diana struggled to recover every time she needs to prolong a part, Aedan required her to practice her breathing and take her voice completely from her diaphragm.

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" You take the high road and I take the low, and I'll be in Scotland before ye, for me and my true love will never meet again, in the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond..."

The instruments and Diana's voice closes the song, whilst the music fade, her cold voice prolongs the last verse, and echoes throughout the music hall, giving chills to people around. The hall was quiet for a while, but then applause followed coming from the orchestra musicians, appreciating the improvement in Diana's voice.

"OH MY GOSH! Aedan! your method work!!" she declares! seeing the improvement in her voice.

"It did, but you can't sing lying down during performances, Diana!" Aedan says playfully. "Which is why it is important to practice standing!"

Diana sighs and gets up from the floor. Singing had drained her a bit of vocal power and physical energy, therefore she needed a short break. She sits beside Aedan and takes the unopened bottle of Snapple beside him.

"That was mine!" he reprimands.

"I owe you one..." was her quick response.

"You owe me a lot, speaking of which... what was your Dr Skovgaards reaction?"

She narrows her eyes at him, remembering the incident that had recently taken place. "Are trying to get me into trouble, Aedan?! you bloody sent my dress for the wedding gig, with a box of flowers and a 'dirty' letter-"

"Which you wrote by yourself by the way!" Aedan quickly rebuffs her.

" It was your idea! I told you to discard it!! You made it look like some scene in some cheesy r-rated novel!" she says reprimanding him, but all he did was laugh at her.

" So? Did it work? did it work? what was his reaction?! tell me! tell me! you're killing me with the suspense!."

**********

FLASHBACK

It was Saturday quarter to noon when the doorbell rang. Isaac, since he was having his day off, was the one who answered the door, instead of Diana. Heck, that girl almost never showed her presence recently, and only placed mail for him at the dining table.

Isaac opens the door and was surprised to find a delivery man carrying a large black box of 'Net-A-Porter' and on his other hand, was a huge round box of bright pink roses.

"I did not order such thing!" was the first thing he said to the delivery man.

But the delivery man just laughed at him " Well, no one ordered them, these are all for 'Diana Rutherford' unless you happen to be her. Anyways, could you help me receive them? It's really heavy..."

Isaac's mouth hung agape, he didn't know how to react at the moment, and just took the boxes that the delivery man was carrying.

" Alright, please help me sign here to receive and we're good!" the delivery man hands him the 'received slip' after signing before leaving.

Isaac carries the boxes to the living room, and as much as he didn't want to, began snooping in. On top of the net-a-porter box was a card. He opened it and read its contents.

" To my sweetest Diana,

I hope you love the dress and the flowers I gave you. They represent my feelings towards you. I will fill you with love the next time I see you, I want to fill you with all the joys of the flesh, you lovely, lovely woman... I'd fill you until -"

Isaac clenched his fist and unknowingly crumpled the side of the letter. He read throughout it and it became steamy to explicitly dirty. His face felt warm, imagining what Diana had done with the man who sent these things, he just couldn't accept it and that was what broke the camels back.

He read the name at the end of the letter 'Sam'.

He chuckled and finally decided. "Alright, Sam... off you go..." he mumbles to himself. He didn't exactly know what came over him, but he wanted to throw the things this 'Sam' guy has sent.

"Dr. Skovgaard!" a familiar voice from up the stairs called him. He looked up to find Diana, looking at him expectantly. "Are those for me?!" she said excitedly, and came jogging downstairs."

"Uhhmmm... yes, some 'Sam' guy sent it to you..."

Diana forced a smile. 'Sam' was the pseudonym that she and Aedan agreed upon when they wrote the letter. Heck, she told him to abort the plan, but it seems it wasn't the case.

She quickly takes the boxes from Isaac and took a look at their contents, the dress she rented for one of her performances was already there. Aedan had packed it using a net-a-porter box to make it look like it was 'bought' instead of being rented.

The flowers were something she had bought for herself to place in her room, but it was Aedan's idea to make it look romantic.

She looks at the letter, and cringe upon reading it. It was actually a group of explicit letters formed into one. On the side, she couldn't help but notice the large crumple on the perfectly smooth surface of the card.

"Did you read the letter, Dr Skovgaard?" she felt blood rush to her cheeks.

"Uhhhmmm... no..." was his quick denial, however, Diana's gaze made him admit to it unknowingly. " Yes... by accident, sorry I was curious... " was his immediate defence.

"Oh..." she felt embarrassed and screamed internally.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two before he spoke again.

"Whose, Sam? Are you two dating?" he tried to sound casual, but there was a strain in his voice that didn't escape Diana.

"Oh... uh, ahehehehe," she laughs awkwardly, avoiding his gaze. She noticed his expression darken and definitely didn't want to look him straight in the eyes. "It's a secret Dr Skovgaard!" she declares and winks at him, catching him off-guard.

She quickly takes the boxes from Isaac, and the card, and ran back upstairs to her room, singing a sensual tune, called 'Pillowtalk'. "I love to hold you close, tonight and always, I love to wake up next to you..." she dreamily sings.

Isaac clenched his teeth, the dreamy and shy expression, and singing silly to a dirty tune. This woman was smitten to whoever this 'Sam' guy is.

He did not like it one bit.

END OF FLASHBACK

**********

Diana shakes her head, and covers her face in embarrassment, just by remembering the letter she wrote to herself, and the fact that Isaac has read the letter.

On the side was Aedan laughing his head off upon hearing everything that had happened.

"Stop it, Aedan!" she chastises him, slapping his shoulder, but he just laughed louder. "I'm about to die in embarrassment!"

"You should thank me! you got the reaction out of him, he's jealous!" he exclaimed.

"I don't think that's the case Aedan, I think he's more concerned and angry at the thought of me probably dating a hypersexual man."

"Oh, Diana, based on what you told me, he's definitely jealous! trust me! I'm a man!" he assures, but she still doesn't believe.

"Oh well... I guess I'd revel in his reactions while it lasts... " She sighs.

**********

The next weekend, her first assignment is to sing at a society wedding. Aedan saw that Diana lacked confidence, and he didn't want her to stand and sing awkwardly on the day of the main performance. So what other way can she build confidence? by doing a performance! Or throwing her to the sharks full of water, courtesy of Aedan.

Today, she was going to sing with a piano quintet, and the church choir and she couldn't help but feel nervous, knowing she is the soloist for today and felt regret despite the promise of payment.

"Well... I can finally buy a 3D printer..." she assures herself as she walks towards the church's opulent doors wearing the dress that she had 'sent' herself.

She knew this wee bit of money will help her buy the tools she needed in order to set up a small workshop studio she wanted and with renewed spirit, enters the halls of the church. Voices echoed as she entered halls, some of the guests were already seated whilst a number of children were still running around. The quintet was already there, setting up their strings and reading the music sheets, whilst the small choir were still chatting amongst themselves.

She heads towards the pulpit where all the musician was, but before she could even reach the place, familiar voices called her from behind. Turning around, she found her cousin Henry, beside her father, Francis and they were wearing kilts, and then she realized most of the men in the halls were indeed wearing kilts. Without a doubt, this was a Scottish wedding.

"Diana! It's nice to see you!" Henry greets, as he gets out of the pew to embrace his cousin.

"Ahehe... Henry? Da? What are you doing here?" was her first question.

"I should be the one asking you that!" was Francis reply. "What are you doing here? Do you happen to know the bride or groom?"

"Oh... uhhmmm... you know... to sing!" she declares.

"What?!" Francis was stunned. Sing?! Why does she need to sing? Unless she was actually the wedding singer. "Wait! Are you-"

"I'll talk to you later Da!" she says, half running to the pulpit, not wanting any more of the interrogation. It was better if he finds out himself that the wedding singer is his daughter. She'd face his wrath later on.

Half an hour later, the wedding has begun. She clears her throat and opens with the song called ' The One by Kodaline, as the entrance wedding march.

The piano began, and the choir began to sing the back vocals. Her cold voice followed, singing the first verse.

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"Tell me. Tell me that you want me. And I'll be yours completely For better or for worse." she sings, as the processional march began with the wedding officiant entering first, followed by the groom and his best men. Afterwards, the bridesmaids, groomsmen and the ring bearer and flower girls entered the halls, scattering flowers down the floor.

And when the brides, turn came, the guess had stood up to welcome her.

" You make my heart feel like it's summer When the rain is pouring down You make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong That's how I know you are the one " she closes, the song when the bride had reached the altar. Turning to the side, she watched the groom shed some tears, as he took his bride's hands. It was no mistake that it was tears of joy.

She turned and found a number of guests, also crying. Including her father, and cousin, Henry. Heck, she'd never thought she'd see the day these tough men cry.

A pang of jealousy hits her as she watched the wedding ceremony. It takes her back to the time when she was seventeen, dreaming of her own wedding, whilst looking at Vera Wang wedding catalogues on the internet. She too dreamt of getting married to a man who loves her, a man who'd help her escape from her once uncaring father. A man who'd take away all the pain that she had suffered. But no, the man whom she almost married gave nothing but pain. If they did end up on the altar, she wondered if she would've become mental by now, or currently doing divorce proceedings. It took many twists and turns for her to realize that only she can make herself happy.

When the vows ended, Diana took it as a cue to sing the next song 'Fix You' by Coldplay. The strings open the song followed by the piano and then the hum of the choir.

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"Tears stream down your face I promise you, I will learn from my mistakes Tears stream down your face and I...

Lights will guide you home And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you" The choir and quintet fade in the background as she prolongs the last word, and her voice echoed like cold wind throughout the church's halls.

The bride and the groom cry with tears of joy as the song ended, touched at the way Diana sang the song. The couple looks at each other fondly, before turning back to the altar.

"I now pronounce you Husband and Wife! You may now kiss the bride!" the wedding officiant declares.

Without any hesitation, the groom lifts the bride's veil and kisses her. Loud applause and cheers followed, and the recessional music plays.

Diana watched the bride and the groom march out of the church, followed by their cheering guest. It was moments like this that made her question her own life. However, she puts it aside, knowing where her priorities now lie.

A/N: I might have made some grammatical errors, so I'd do some soft editing along the way.

I hope you enjoyed that one! What do you think of Isaac being jealous? tell me in the comments section below.

#A True Gentleman #Mads Mikkelsen #Mads Mikkelsen Fan Fic #Mads Mikkelsen FanFic #Mads Mikkelsen Fan Fiction #Mads Mikkelsen FanFiction #Mads Mikkelsen x OFC #ooc #Original Female Character #Doctor! Mads #MissIronLady #MSILWRITES #MISSIRONLADYIW

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soundofseventeen · 4 years ago

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We Belong Together (Part Seven)

I planned to update last week, but life throws curveballs. But I hope you’re enjoying this!!!!

Word count: 1327

“And then I said, ‘Just because I took a year of Japanese, doesn’t mean I can speak it.’” As expected, the small gathering of the bridesmaids threw their heads back and laughed at Jooheon’s cousin’s story, which apparently called for another round of spirits that had somehow made their way into the dressing room and you managed to stay composed.

One of the two requests you had for Jooheon was that you didn’t want anyone drinking anything alcoholic before the ceremony because you didn’t want anyone falling, fighting, getting nauseous, or anything else that you managed to forget, and here was his family, blatantly disregarding the rule.

“Y/N, have a drink!” his cousin said, already tipsy. She giggled, tilting her head back and finishing up whatever was left in her cup.

You forced another smile, shaking your head, trying not to let your temper get the best of you. “I’m good. Ahnjong went to grab me a coffee before you showed up.” You wondered how long she had been gone, and the paranoid part of you let you know that she abandoned ship and decided not to participate in the wedding.

“Aren’t you gonna start putting your dress on? You’re gonna be late for your own wedding.”

“None of you are supposed to see me in it yet, so I have to wait for you to be ready.” How easily the lie escaped you, surprised you. “So why don’t you guys get ready first? I still have to look over some things.” As if you were expecting it, someone knocked on the door and in walked the long awaited artists, which left everyone screaming and squealing in delight.

The bridesmaids were so loud as you left, you weren’t sure how the vicinity wasn’t complaining to you or your fiance. You’d covered your ears multiple times, so much so that your earrings accidentally stabbed you once in a while. So, once the makeup artists and hair stylists finally set up their stuff, you managed to leave the room, saying you needed to use the bathroom and that you’d be back after checking some stuff that had no reason to be looked over. Ahnjong hadn’t returned yet, so you’d been left with a majority of Jooheon’s family, the claustrophobia hitting you slowly over time.

You were still in your robe, not wanting to dress up yet, but insisting to the bridesmaids that they needed to be ready first, somehow managing to convince them that you could be a few minutes late. You wandered through the corridors, surprised that you didn’t bump into any of Jooheon’s friends until you ended up outside his dressing room. You could hear them vocalizing and harmonizing nothing in particular and before you could stop yourself, you knocked on the door, hoping to at least complain about the no drinking rule being broken.

“Jagi,” Jooheon said when he opened the door. He was still buttoning the last of his white shirt, Kihyun behind him, swiping a lint roller through his back. The surprise lasted momentarily, which was quickly replaced with concern. He kissed your cheek. “You know we can’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck,” he joked. Slowly, his familiar smile returned and you weren’t sure if that was worse.

But, oh if he had known that if you didn’t see him, you would’ve run. This already felt more like a last viewing of a funeral rather than a union of two people. You couldn’t even offer him a smile in return. You wondered how he had done this everyday since you were together, and so sincerely! He didn’t even comment on how you were nowhere near ready and here he was, looking as ready as ever. Like if it was an everyday thing for him.

“Is everything okay? You look sick.”

You felt sick. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You needed to be waking up from this nightmare soon. You finally forced a smile, nauseated. “I’m fine, just a little nervous.”

“I know. I am too. I’ve waited so long for this day and I can’t believe I finally get to marry you and spend every moment of my life with you.” He kissed your cheek again.

The piercing of your heart hurt you but you weren’t sure if it was the guilt of agreeing to be with someone you didn’t love and or because you didn’t wanna hurt him...all of which resulted with you never being happy again, and if this was meant to be your punishment, then you could probably live with it. But you also knew that Jooheon deserved better than what you could give him. He gave you one last hug and you finally went on your way, still contemplating if you could make it to the airport before the ceremony began.

You even went as far as going to the front door, hand turning on the knob, ready to flee. The creaking sound it made set off your adrenaline and you had one foot out before you knew it. There was no breeze out, but the difference in the air made you sigh. The world felt happy and bright, unlike in here all stuffy and stagnant. All you had to do was slide out and you’d be on your way. The best pet was that no one would even know you had abandoned everything here. All you had to do was take that extra step. So you did.

And it finally felt like you breathe a little easier now that you weren’t inside a building. Your other request to Jooheon had been having an outdoor wedding and he had readily agreed to it, lifting the weight you had on your shoulders. It had been the smartest move you ever made since being with him and it was basically the only thing that made you happy. (Besides, you know, his cats.)

The few minutes you were out there, you saw everything moving, looking alive. You noticed the people running in and out of places in a rush, hopping into cars and taxis. You even saw the number of buses that kept coming and going across the street from you. Maybe if you just crossed the blacktop street during a red light, you could hop on the next bus and see where it took you. At this point, you didn’t care if it took you to the next city, or country….or an airport to a new continent. The possibilities were endless.

“Y/N!” Ahnjong called you seemingly out of nowhere, holding out an iced coffee for you. “You wouldn’t believe how many places I had to go to until I found this brand! This is yours and Jihoon’s favorite, right?”

His name hurt you more than it should’ve but once again, you faked a smile and gave her a small nod. “We had to order them online so many times because they’d be out of stock and whenever we’d find one at any stores, we’d clean the shelves.” You didn’t tell her out loud how much you missed those adventures. The few times you were able to get them at your job, you just had to call to gloat, and he’d start yelling at you to give him half, and he snuck a lot of them to the dorms and stashed many of them at Universe Factory.

Ahnjong didn’t catch your trip down memory lane, so she skipped back inside the venue, leaving you outside and watching more and people line up at the bus stop, waiting for the vehicle to take them to your destination. Maybe if you just moved your feet, you could see where it’d take you.

But something stopped you before you could run and you went back inside, dejectedly. Instead, you closed the door as loudly as you could, releasing some of your frustration, and ran back into the dressing room, the outside world taunting you of its freedom.

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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years ago

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jaliceweek20 day 2: soulmate au

JaliceWeek2020 Day 2: Soulmate AU

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Notes: I’m so mad this got so long because I was going to write this as a continuation of the Angel/Demon, but I wanted something shorter, and then this would. not. end. I think the premise was far too big. But alas, we have fic! No title is coming to me, so I’ll think of one tonight. If I get the other prompts done, I might even finish off the Angel/Demon version.

Words: 6581

They meet like this:

The new girl, her hair hanging in her eyes, darts out of the classroom like she’s on fire. She runs straight into him, bounces off the wall of vampiric-muscle and hits the floor.

It’s hardly the thing of great love stories or cinematic meet-cutes, but it is the beginning.

He mechanically offers to help her up, but she looks away. That’s when he begins to notice - he doesn’t know how it feels for her, but it’s like someone injected ice into his side, where the mark has been for eleven years. She stares up at him for a moment, her hand fluttering at her collar bone before she’s back on her feet and hurrying down the hall like she’s running away.

—

The soul mark appears when Alice is six.

It is a twisted ribbon of a mark, from the inside of her left elbow, up her arm, over her shoulder, along her clavicle, over her right shoulder and down to her right wrist. It is enormous for a soul mark, especially on such a small child. And perhaps that would be okay, if it wasn’t for the colour - deeply and unmistakably red; dark in the middle and light on the outside, like she’s been slashed violently with a knife.

Alice’s mother screams when she sees it, expecting blood to follow, until she realises what she’s seeing. Lillian stares at her daughter, who seems delighted by her positively disfiguring mark. Her little sister has one, her cousins each have one, there’s only her and Uncle Fred that don’t and now she does.

But Cynthia’s is an elaborate knot of yellow on her right hip that looks more like an abstract flower. Lillian’s own is yellow and mauve, fanning out like sunburst on the back of her neck. She has never seen a soul mark like this, and she feels disloyal when she allows herself to think it quite hideous as she lets her daughter babble away in joy.

What ugly, soulless individual could inspire such a mark?

(Then, of course, there is the social faux pas that Alice is obviously older than her new soulmate - just old enough for people to talk. It’s still not really acceptable in Biloxi society for the female half of the couple to be older, but it can be overlooked if its only a year or two. Don’t even get Lillian started on same-sex soulmates; she’ll worry about that if it ever comes to pass, pray to god it doesn’t.

Thankfully, Cynthia was born with her mark, and Lillian with hers.

It’ll be years before Alice herself understands: the soul mark has less to do with birthdays and ages, and a lot more to do with the path you find yourself on - there’s no point having a map to a place you won’t be visiting. That day when she was six years old was the very day that the seeds of the Great Brandon Feud were planted, and her path was gently diverted into that of another).

—

The official reason they move to Forks is because Brandon Shipping is expanding, and the newest office and facility is in Port Angeles; Lillian thinks the small logging town is charming and a more socially palatable place to live, plus she is excited by the idea of renovating an old house (Alice is positive that every Pottery Barn in the Pacific Northwest is standing-by for her mother’s legendarily dull sense of interior design).

The semi-official reason is that Alice punched her cousin Marcella at the last family Fourth of July barbecue, and both Lillian and Michael are leaving in shame. Alice resents this justification to her bones because one, Marcella deserved it, and probably another one or two. Two, if it had been any any cousin Marcella had said those words to, it would be Marcella who would be punished. And three, the unspoken reason.

The unspoken reason was that Michael and his brothers have reached a peak in the Great Brandon Family Feud where ultimatums have been made that can’t be taken back, but all of them are focused enough on wealth and status they aren’t stupid enough to actually break up the company. So Michael is - depending on who you ask - either banished to the newest, furthest outpost of the company, or removes himself and his family from a ‘disturbing, irrational, and toxic environment.’

The only one who is actually relieved by their arrival in the dreary little town is Alice; wearing neck-to-wrist clothing all year around will be much more comfortable in Forks than in Biloxi. She might actually get to be normal. No sunshine, no swimming pools, no weddings or volleyball or spiteful, nasty little cousins.

Just school and home and peace of being left entirely alone. That’s been her plan for years now - hide away and not find whomever branded her like this. She can almost see the disappointment in their eyes when they glimpse her, and all that she is.

Forks seems like a really good place for someone to hide.

—

The mark hasn’t changed in eleven years - bright red, enormous, and always there. Lillian has tried every kind of make-up and cover-up, every form of medication, every skin treatment but the red still bleeds through insistently. And until Alice was twelve, she didn’t really notice anyone recoiling from her mark - though Lillian always insisted on high-collar dresses and dainty cardigans, even in the summer heat.

It was Cousin Grace’s wedding that changed everything - Grace was always a sweetheart, and everyone was pleased for her. All the little cousins would be bridesmaids and flower-girls, of course - that’s how it was down in their family. Alice was so excited - Grace was the oldest, and it was the first wedding she’d actually get to be in. They’d arrived at the bridal store, and everyone was gathered, and the dresses were there on the rack, and everyone laughed at how excited little Mary-Alice was to climb into her bridesmaid dress.

Lillian was distracted, not thinking, as she accepted champagne and talked to Grace’s mother Susan. Cynthia was already being hustled into a fitting room when Alice emerged, already spinning in the pink lace creation with the sweetheart neckline.

And all went silent. The bride, the children, the mothers, the store attendants - all of them froze at the sight of Mary-Alice in her candy pink dress with a soul mark that looked like she’d just climbed off an autopsy table half-way done.

Grace managed a sickly smile, “you look so pretty, Mary!” she manages in the same voice she uses for her kindergarten class. “It fits well, not too long.”

“That’s all we need, Alice, put your clothes back on,” Lillian manages in a faint voice before she is swept into a corner with Grace, Aunt Susan, and Grace’s wedding planning.

The dressing rooms of wedding boutiques are not fortresses of solitude and silence. The murmured and slightly panicked conversation between the four woman about Alice’s Mark, about its hideousness, and the photos, oh my god, everyone will be forced to look at it.

No, make-up won’t cover it - they’ve tried everything they can find.

She just can’t be in the wedding. She’ll ruin it.

Alice stares into the gilded mirror in the dressing room, at the dress she was so excited to wear. At the red slash that she has always loved but… it really is terrible, ugly to look at. Not like Mama’s or Cynthia’s or anyone else’s she knows. It’s so awful.

She puts on her sweater and her skirt, and hangs up the bridesmaid dress she’ll never get to wear, and she’ll sit quietly as the rest of the cousins try on dresses and she won’t even cry when Grace lies to her so sweetly, and tells her that she’s got too many bridesmaids and would she mind terribly if she was just a very special guest instead.

She wears a long-sleeved navy blue dress to the wedding and hides in the bathrooms when the photos are taken, not that anyone comes looking for her. She stays quiet and good and doesn’t complain about how hot her dress makes her. Cynthia spins on the dance floor in her pink tulle dress, and Alice tries to push down the jealousy. It’s not her little sister’s fault that she’s too ugly to wear a pretty dress. At least one of them gets to enjoy it. Then she wonders what she did to make her soul mate hate her so much they’d mark her like this before they’ve even met.

—

Twelve is the year she stops complaining about her clothes, stops having to be reminded to cover herself up.

Twelve is the year she finds she prefers oversized clothing, clothing she can hide in, so nothing but her face and finger tips can be seen.

Twelve is the year she doesn’t ask even once to go swimming with her friends (even though she’s never been allowed before) - and when she swims in their pool at home, she wears a long sleeved shirt over her swimsuit every single time, and only swims just before it gets dark, where no one can see her.

Twelve is the year that she thinks, maybe if she was skinner, the mark might get smaller. Her mother compliments her on her diet as she fades away, but the mark just seems to get brighter.

Twelve is the year she successfully convinces her parents and her fancy school to excuse her from gym permanently, because she’ll faint exercising in all those layers, and none of the other students should be forced to see her. (It takes a depressing lack of effort to secure that privilege, everyone praising her for her maturity and practicality, as if they’ve forgotten how much she had always loved gymnastics and volleyball.)

Twelve is also the year she works out that she can’t cut or burn the stupid thing away, and no one seems upset with her attempts when they get a good look at what she’s working against.

Twelve is a horrible year.

—

The day she runs into the tall boy at school, it all goes to hell.

She hasn’t really made friends at Forks - she sits next to June in Art, and Katie in History, and they’re both nice to her, but they really leave the new girl alone - she’s too quiet to be befriended. All her report cards have said the same things for years now - she’s polite and diligent but just so shy that perhaps her parents should get her help.

They don’t, because Michael Brandon prefers his eldest daughter to remain silent and unresistant to his will. Plus, what would people think if they found out Alice needed a therapist?

So, she continues on her quest for complete invisibility, like a rabbit in the underbrush, and that leads her into running into the handsome boy she’s seen roaming the halls, and she falls flat on the floor, stunned but unharmed.

It happens almost immediately, a burn in her chest that is running down both her arms and … no. No, nope, nada, nyet, nein. No way in hell. The burn is increasing and she gets to her feet, ignoring him entirely to go and hide in the library and wait for the pain to ebb.

It still hurts when the final bell rings, and she stumbles to the bus, head down and headphones on so that no one can call out to her and have her hear. It feels like an inside-out sunburn, and she’s going home to take a cold bath and cry.

No one else is home, thankfully, when she barges in the back door and straight up the stairs, pausing only long enough to grab the omnipresent tube of aloe vera gel from the fridge - she couldn’t bare to deal with the expected afternoon niceties with her mother right now. She’s got to get the burning to stop.

Her bathroom is a tiny ensuite to ensure her privacy - her father has made no secret of how disgusting he finds her mark, and her mother only encourages her extreme form of modesty. She almost regrets all the layers - heavy sweater, turtleneck, camisole, bra, skirt, shoes, stockings, underwear - as she sheds them, wanting to scratch the skin from her body out of sheer frustration and discomfort.

And then she looks up in the mirror and freezes.

There’s no doubting he’s her soulmate, not an ounce of doubt in her mind. Because her mark has changed, and it is… like nothing she’s ever seen, not in all her research on the topic. Not in endless scrolling on social media of people boasting ‘before’ and ‘after’ soul marks, in delicate little love knots, and spiralling patterns and bursts of colour.

This is something utterly unique. The ribbon-like shape is unchanged, but somehow, it looks almost faceted like crystal, like under her skin there is the inside of a geode, colours shifting in ripples of scarlet and gold. It feels no different to touch, but no longer does she look like she’s been murdered. And the very ends, on her wrist and arm, they have darkened to a deep and unexpected violet.

The heat still rolls under her skin but is slowly dispersing again, as if it was just insistent that she had to take a closer look. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Alice feels… well, not beautiful. But not monstrous.

So she climbs into the bathtub and starts to cry.

—

She stays in bed the next day, unable to face school. Lillian indulges her claims she’s sick, everything below Alice’s chin tucked firmly under her duvet, and leaves her daughter to rest.

She can’t do it, can’t face the idea of having to see that boy again, that truly handsome boy, and let him know that when life was dealing out soul mates, he drew her card. Because she hasn’t been made suddenly beautiful by their inevitable meeting. She’s still a tiny, bony, and pale little creature - her own grandmother assures her every Christmas that she’ll never win any prizes for beauty.

That doesn’t stop her from peaking under the blankets every so often just to see the impossible glitter of her mark, the way it somehow shifts from ruby to crimson to scarlet, with little veins of gold threaded through. She doesn’t understand - it’s just skin, still flat and smooth, the most remarkable of illusions.

In the end, she kicks off the blankets and throws on a dress and leggings and boots, and leaves the house. Finds herself walking to the school, hoping that maybe she’s lucky enough to one, not get caught by either her parents or teachers, and two, find Him before he leaves for the day.

Apparently, she’s just the right amount of lucky. She finds him sitting on one of the benches outside the school, running his hand through his hair and looking stressed. He’s surrounded by others, no one she recognises - one guy appears to be reassuring him; they’re all looking for someone.

A brunette girl catches her eye and points to her, and apparently the person they’re looking for is her. She tries not to shrink under their gaze, as she crosses the carpark and wondering why on earth she’s here, and not still in bed, why she’s even tempting fate by approaching him. It’s going to go horribly, and everyone in town is going to find out about her mark, and her parents will just outright destroy her.

She falters, and looks up at him. He looks almost hopeful, as he stares at her, raising his hands in peace when he thinks she’s going to back away.

She approaches slowly, her arms crossed over her chest as she finally reaches the group.

“Hello.” The boy stands up to greet her and he is so, so ridiculously tall, it’s not fair.

“Hi.” It’s awkward. All those soul-meeting stories she read online, they all sounded so lovely, and hers is at a bench at school and… this.

“We’ll leave you to it, man,” one of the other boys says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

The blond boy nods and looks at her. He has kind eyes, which is good, she decides.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” he offers suddenly. “Just around here? Might make it easier.”

“Yes. That sounds okay.” Her voice sounds small, and they move away from the benches, from the witnesses, towards the oval.

—

His name is Jasper Hale, and he’s eighteen. He lives with his aunt, uncle, twin sister, and his adopted cousins. They only moved to Forks a year ago. He likes American History, motorcycles, and horses. He plays the guitar. He’d like to get to know her.

She fumbles through what to tell him. Her name, of course, her family. Why they moved. She likes… that’s a weird question. She’s spent so long hiding everything about herself that she can’t remember what she actually likes and what’s just become routine.

She can do this.

Her name is Alice Brandon - Mary Alice Brandon - and she’s seventeen. She lives with her parents and younger sister. They just moved from Biloxi. She likes drawing, she likes fashion, and she likes dancing.

“I don’t know if this is inappropriate,” Jasper begins, as they take a seat on the ageing bleachers at the back of the school. “But, could I see the mark?”

She visibly flinches from the request, but he’s been very patient and seems to actually be invested in this, and she can’t be outright cruel. He’ll leave her alone soon enough. “C-can I see yours?” she manages, hoping to delay the inevitable.

He nods, looking at her with concern, but hikes up the side of his shirt. It runs down his side, even underneath the waistband of his jeans, all sharp edges and thin lines jerking out, like a spiking heart rate. It’s mostly a dark gold colour, but with violet and scarlet bleeding into parts of it. It’s the most perfectly normal soul mark she’s ever seen, and she’s not sure whether to be disappointed his doesn’t match hers better so they can be freaks together, or if she’s grateful no one else has to live like she does.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, and it’s true. Beautiful colours, the visible representation of a beating heart. It suits him.

He nods, a slight smile hovering at his lips. “Yours?” he asks, and this time she knows she cannot get out of it. But she also can’t whip off the dress she’s wearing, in the middle of the school oval.

“Um, I can’t,” she began, looking at her shoes. “Not here.” She makes a gesture towards her chest. “Not the whole thing - but I can show you some of it.”

He’s curious as she rolls up her right sleeve to her elbow, and holds out her arm. He positively gapes at it, and reaches out to stroke it, making them both jump at the unexpected contact.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. That’s… incredible,” he murmured.

“Incredible?” she echoes, pulling her sleeve down. He’s staring at her like she’s performed a miracle in front of him, and she doesn’t know how to act.

“It’s beautiful. But you said you couldn’t show me all of it? How far up does it go?” he asks, furrowing his brow.

She wordlessly and mechanically draws the path she’s been branded with - for him - and his eyes get wider.

“I’ve never heard of such a … prominent mark,” he manages.

“It’s pretty … dramatic,” she admits before sighing and shaking her head. “Before we ran into each other, it was… awful. Hideous - the ugliest thing possible.”

He looks shocked, and moves closer. “Why do you say that?” his voice is low, encouraging.

“It was so big and bright and everyone hated it, hated looking at it,” she gestured to her chest. “You’ll understand when you see the entire thing. It’s… it’s nicer now, but it’s still everywhere.”

Jasper studied her a moment longer before looking out at the field. “I researched soul marks once, as a bit of a hobby,” he began. “American research on the topic is only very recent, and focused on the science of it rather than the meaning. But you begin to look abroad, or back through history, and what we know or believe it gets interesting.

“For instance, in India, they believe the length of the soul mark determines the length of your time together. Hundreds of years ago, they had a special way to measure a soul mark to determine how many years you would have together. It’s been lost to modern history, but it was once incredibly important a couple to have their soul marks measured and calculated.

“And then in Ancient Greece, any mark was a sign of great pride. They would cut down their clothing - sometimes quite indecently - to show off - the more prominent the mark, the better.

“And some of the Slavic tribes, they believed that the shape and size and placement of the mark held great significance to the relationship the soul mates would have - the depth and strength of love the pair would carry for each other; that a great size implied that one half of the couple was taking on a burden of pain or suffering from the other, to help them through life.”

She sat there, almost breathless, as he so easily detailed the different things he had found and read. All of them full of acceptance, of hope, and of how… special such a thing was supposed to be.

“What do you believe?” she manages to ask.

He looks at her and reaches out to take her hand, gently squeezing it.

“That there’s nothing you could show me that would scare me away,” he said, and she can feel herself blush. “And that I would very much like to get to know you better, Alice Brandon.”

—

He walks her home, still holding her hand, and they talk about nothing. Movies they’ve seen, music they like, places they would like to visit. He makes it easy to talk, to find things to say. The walk is a lot shorter on the way back.

Lillian Brandon is not amused to find her so-called ‘unwell’ eldest daughter has snuck out, but is bamboozled and gracious enough to hold back her displeasure when she sees Alice hand in hand with Jasper.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Alice?” Lillian rebukes her daughter, and watches as her daughter appears to shrink back against the tall boy with his gaze permanently fixed on her.

“This is Jasper Hale,” Alice manages, ducking her head. “He’s a senior.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Jasper replies respectfully, eyeing the uncomfortable girl at his side. “I’d like to thank you for doing me the favour of bringing my soul mate to Forks.”

Later, Alice will laugh until her eyes are watering over the look on Lillian’s face when she computes what Jasper is saying. That this tall, handsome boy who can’t take his eyes off her daughter is Alice’s soul mate. Lillian’s face goes through the full spectrum of emotions - confused, shocked, completely blank, incredulous, and then vaguely dazed.

The late reveal of Alice’s soul mark is hand waved away with Jasper informing the pair his own didn’t show up until he was seven - that late appearing soul marks aren’t as uncommon as people think. Lillian is utterly flabbergasted and Alice only gets to enjoy it for as long as it takes Lillian to get to her favourite topic - complaining about Alice’s ‘disfigurement’.

“It’s really quite gruesome to look at - you said your uncle was a surgeon? Perhaps he might know of someone who can tidy it up a little,” Lillian prattles on as the pair sit stiffly at the kitchen table.

“I think it’s quite lovely, myself,” Jasper responds coldly, but Lillian doesn’t notice the change in his mood.

“Have you seen the whole thing? Run up and put a camisole on, Alice,” Lillian waves a hand at her daughter. “You’ll understand. We’ve tried everything, but nothing works.”

Jasper looks furious as she leaves the table meekly at her mother’s bidding. Maybe Lillian is right, maybe Jasper will back away when he sees the sheer expanse of all, all that research be damned.

It feels quite strange to walk around wearing so little clothing, and she’s slower going back downstairs, her face hidden by her hair, as she returns to the kitchen. The camisole is cut low enough to show her barely-existent cleavage, and she really feels like she’s just walking around naked.

Jasper stands as soon as she returns, and for a split second, she thinks he’s going to walk out, that Lillian was right and she was right and it doesn’t matter it changed, it’s still awful.

But he moves closer to her, reaching out to gather her hair and push it away from her face. And for the first time since they’ve met, he looks at her. At the faint freckles on her nose, the tiny scar on her cheek, her slightly sunken cheeks, her sad grey eyes, down to the faceted expanse of soul mark that twists up both her arms and meets over her collarbone.

Lillian shakes her head in despair at the family shame revealed so openly, not remarking - or maybe not noticing - the change of it.

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Jasper’s voice is firm and clear and appreciative and Lillian looks scandalised, and Alice starts to laugh and cry at the same time, and somehow she finds herself in his arms, clinging to him like a lifesaver because she can’t remember ever being told that in her whole life.

(It’s a quiet dinner at the Brandons that night, after Lillian reports to her husband what has transpired. The only comment Michael Brandon makes is right before he gets up, staring at his eldest daughter, and rudely congratulating her on catching a doctor’s son. Alice can’t find it in herself to care.)

—

Nothing worth having ever came easy.

Meeting the Cullens goes… fine. She wears a dress with a high neckline and elbow-length sleeves, but then puts a cardigan over the top because old habits are hard to break. She puts her hair up though, because it makes Jasper smile when she does.

Dr Cullen seems vaguely horrified at the sight of her (Jasper reassures her later that it was how terribly, terribly thin she was, and nothing more), but Mrs Cullen is delighted by her, clasping her in a hug and insisting Alice call her ‘Esme’.

Jasper’s twin sister, Rose, seems guarded but very polite to her, whilst Jasper’s adopted cousin (and Rose’s soul mate, which explains the very specific description) Emmett is all fun and games, and at ease with her right away.

“Jas said you had issues with your mark,” he says within the first minutes of meeting her. “Get a load of this.” He pulls his t-shirt up, and turns around to show Alice his back. Like Alice, his spine appears to have split perfectly down the middle to reveal a faceted crystal effect in deep pink and forest green. It starts at his hairline, running down his neck and stretches across his shoulders before narrowing again.

“Very appropriate timing, Emmett,” the other cousin, Edward, sighs.

“What? Jas was pissed she was upset,” Emmett tugs his shirt down, and Alice isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry that the whole family knows something she’s been ashamed of for so long. “We thought it might be, like, a freaky genetic thing but then Edward’s girl showed up with one like it on her leg. Some people just get lucky, I guess.”

“Ignore him. He’s got the tact of cinderblock wall,” Edward says to her. “He’s never had a moment of self-doubt in his life.”

That makes her giggle a little, and everyone relaxes. It’s a nice visit after that, but both Dr Cullen and Mrs Cu- Esme look at her with worried eyes, and that makes her worry more.

At school, apparently being Jasper Hale’s soul mate is a scandal of the highest degree. Her locker is defaced twice, and one girl body-slams her into the wall as she walks past. Everybody suddenly knows who she is, and she has a place to sit at the cafeteria, and it’s not as bad as she thought it would be because the Cullens don’t eat much either.

Jasper fusses over her a lot; he picks her up for school every day in a shiny black truck, and he walks her to every class. He takes her back home every day, and most days they sit in her room and talk. Nothing inappropriate, especially since she has to keep her bedroom door open whenever she has guests. She asks him about college, but he is dismissive of it - entirely focused on her and her plans. He helps her with her homework, helps her move her bedroom furniture - nothing is too much trouble.

He only leaves at dinner time, when her father comes home. Sometimes she wonders if he’d ever leave her if he wasn’t forced to.

She knows she runs hot and cold. Some days she clings to him like a limpet, reluctant to seperate even for their respective classes, quiet and solemn. Other days, she is distant, uncomfortable with being touched. Those are the days she drags the turtlenecks and heavy sweaters out, the ones that cover her right to her hands. And then there are the days she is her best self, when her smile is bright and she can wear a top that bares her forearms and forces herself to ignore people staring at her soul mark. Those are the days she can relied to eat lunch, to have a conversation with his family, to be the person she was shamed into not being.

And Jasper stays for all of it. He doesn’t get mad, he doesn’t insult her, he doesn’t yell. He’s just right there, by her side, right up until graduation. They don’t go to Prom because the idea of wearing an evening dress makes her feel woozy and hide in the immense fabric of one of his hoodies and watch bad movies with aggressive focus. Instead, they stay at the Cullens house, and Mrs Cullen makes them crepes - she eats more than Jasper, she’s sure of it, but they’re very good - and he plays music in his bedroom and they dance there, instead.

That’s where he admits he’s putting college off for a year and working for Esme - a very successful architect and interior designer - for a year. And not for college money; apparently that isn’t a problem. No, because he wants to wait for her, so they can go to college together. He doesn’t care where - it’s her choice. That she’s letting him tag along is all he needs.

It’s all very romantic and it’s also their very first kiss, and then their very first make out, and nearly their very first time except she’s still messed up in the head, and the idea of getting really naked with anyone is so bad she hyperventilates and he has to calm her down.

She’s not sure what he gets out of having her as a soul mate, but she hopes he knows that he’s saving her life.

—

It’s late August, just before she starts her senior year with Edward and his girlfriend, Bella, when Jasper brings her to the house to tell her something.

She worries the entire trip to his house, piling anxiety on top of anxiety. It’s definitely her - they kiss sometimes and it’s nice, and she doesn’t mind when he sees her in her bra now, but anything else is too much and maybe he’s tired of waiting?

Or maybe he’s realised waiting around for a whole year in a town like Forks for a girl like her is actually really dumb, and he’s going to college after all.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

The thing is, in all her catastrophizing, she thought she had everything covered. Every single thing, from a break-up, to terminal illness, to joining the military, to world collapse. She feels like her head is spinning by the time she gets to the Cullens, and she’s positive she’s either going to faint or vomit by the time he tells her whatever he wants to tell her.

“We’re vampires,” is absolutely and most certainly nowhere on her list, and she bursts into tears, and the entire family freaks out, and then she has to admit she thought she was being dumped, and both Emmett and Carlisle burst out laughing because apparently Jasper has been mooning over her since the day she ran into him, without exception, and the idea that he’d choose to leave her for some petty human reason is the height of comedy.

She has to lie down after that revelation, as Jasper and Carlisle slowly explain to her that all those ‘quirks’ she evidently didn’t pay attention to where indicative of being a fucking vampire, with various interjections from Emmett that are unhelpful but funny.

The end result is that she starts her final year of high school with the knowledge that her soul mate is a vampire - one that hunts animals but is physically unable to drink her blood thanks to soul mate biology; that they will respect her choice to remain human if that is what she wants, but that allowing him to change her will give them forever together.

It’s a lot of pressure. She loses some of the hard-won weight she has gained, and she’s not sleeping well, and Esme - when she finds out - is fairly pissed they’ve rattled her to that point. When she goes to Esme for advice, the woman is more than happy to offer counsel, to listen to her hopes and fears and dreams and all the things that rattle around in her brain that she can’t stop thinking about.

It’s Rosalie who helps, who finds her in the Cullen’s kitchen inspecting the calories on the peanut butter jar.

“You know, I didn’t want this,” Rose says brusquely, taking the jar out of her hands and shoves Alice out of the way to make the sandwich for her. “I hated Carlisle for years for changing me without consent - I was dying, he made a choice,” the blonde girl says, slicing up the banana. “Then I got my mark, and found Emmett.” She cuts the sandwich likes she’s stabbing a dead thing.

“Eat. There are a lot of things I regret and I resent about this life. We all have them - I know for a fact that Jasper has sanitised most of his own history to ‘protect’ you, and I disagree with that. But never have I looked at Emmett, had Emmett beside me, and regretted that. I love him more than I thought possible.

"We’re given these damn marks for a reason. I’ve never seen Jasper as… at peace as he has been since he found you. There’s never going to be a time - not today, or next month or even in the next twenty years - that he’s going to look at you and not see his entire world. Stay human, become one of us - only you can make that choice. But don’t make that choice because you think that it will change how it will make him feel. Because that’s not happening,” Rose finished, putting the peanut butter in the fridge. “You’re smart, you’re pretty, you clearly love him. Anything else is just your own neuroses. Eat the damn sandwich.”

She eats the whole thing.

—

‘Nothing worth having ever came easy.’

She reminds herself of that over and over again when things get hard. When she goes up a clothing size, when she wears a t-shirt that fits for the first time since she was twelve, when she’s staring down a perfectly ordinary bowl of fruit salad.

When she lets him put his mouth on her soul mark, her chest bare, and her breathing only a little bit panicked. But it feels kind of nice and she makes a few sounds that are embarrassing but Jasper seems to like them a lot.

When her mother drives her to Seattle to pick out a dress for prom, and she immediately reaches for a blue one. A vintage-style strapless cocktail dress in deep blue that she’s immediately in love with. It fits like a glove, and as she spins in front of the mirror, she chooses to ignore the look that Cynthia shoots Lillian, and Lillian’s wince. She loves it and she’s going to wear it.

And she does. She nearly hyperventilates, and changes into her back-up dress twice (one that covers her from wrist-to-throat-to-knee) before she commits. It’s what she wants to wear, it’s how she wants to look for him, and he loves her soul mark. He loves her. He’ll love her in any dress, but she wants it to be this one.

And as she comes down the stairs, to go to her senior prom, in a dress that exposes every inch of what she’s tried so hard to hide, his eyes widen and he gapes. He loses all composure for a moment and that makes her laugh and he calls her beautiful, just like he does every day, except she’s almost started believing him.

And decades later, when she remembers that night, it’s not the snide remarks she recalls. It’s of being in his arms as he dances with her; it’s her hand in his as she tugs him along. The way he looked at her, and the way she looked at him. It was the pride in his gaze, and the love, and the promise that no matter what, they would always be together.

—

A few years later, her soul mark has changed again. Carlisle affectionately calls her a chameleon before delving into an academic recitation on the biology of soul marks and how great upheavals - physical, mental, or spiritual - can affect their appearance.

“Duh,” Emmett says after a moment of silence, and even Edward and Rose are sniggering at that.

Her soul mark has not shrunk or changed shape, as she once wished so passionately. And the beautiful crystal effect has remained, even more beautiful not that she truly sparkles in the sun.

But the scarlet has faded away, giving way for swoops of gold and violet that twist together in a way that she adores.

It’s the very same gold of Jasper’s eyes.

The very same gold as the diamond in the ring he presents to her, down on knee, and she knocks them both to the floor in her delight and rush to accept.

It’s the same gold she hopes her eyes will be.

Someday.

—

#jaliceweek20 #alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight #my fic: untitled soulmate fic

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years ago

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 9: Follow The Rules]

Hi y’all, I hope you are all doing well 💜

Chapter summary: Veronica has some questions, Roger has a plan, John has a short temper.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, medical stuff, pregnancy.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

At the wedding, Roger is wearing a cast on his right arm and a dazzling smile...and a white suit that he looks criminally good in.

John is in black, Brian in blue, Freddie in maroon-colored velvet and heavy eyeliner. Veronica’s dress is high-waisted and falls in huge, billowing, shapeless ruffles to hide her silhouette. Her family knows, of course—it’s written all over the tense, grim lines of their mouths and the blades their pale eyes hurl at John—but none of those strict Catholics are going to mention an out-of-wedlock pregnancy in God’s house, nor at the modest reception in the church basement that follows the ceremony.

Veronica’s mother and aunts and sisters are just like her, docile and milky-skinned and small-boned, and you’ve helped them deck the vast room with enough flowers, ribbons, candles, and balloons to make everyone forget this event was thrown together in five weeks and on a shoestring budget. There’s a simple buffet with pot roast and potatoes and vegetables, a live band (some of John’s old friends from high school), and a homemade Polish honey cake baked by Veronica’s grandmother situated regally on a china serving dish. Veronica and John cycle through the tables of guests, smiling and nodding and thanking them for coming, dutifully and yet also seemingly genuinely cheerful.

“The boning is bloody impaling me,” Chrissie murmurs as she tugs at the bodice of her gown. It’s satin and a muted pink, just like yours and Mary’s and Veronica’s sisters’. “If I happen die, wrap me in one of those nice tablecloths I paid for and throw me in a ditch somewhere, will you love?”

“You got it.” You stab a piece of potato with your fork. “This should inspire you to be especially compassionate towards your own bridesmaids! Maybe no horrid shiny green.”

Brian chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

“Are you comfortable?!” Chrissie asks Mary, exasperated, fanning herself with a wedding program.

“I am,” Mary admits cautiously. “But...well...at the moment, I think my dress is a bit...roomier.”

Chrissie moans, dropping her face into her hands. “I always gain when the students go home for summer. My routine is wrecked, all I want to do is read Glamour magazines and listen to records, it’s too damn hot to go walking...and I adore ice cream.”

“I like you just fine,” Brian reassures her.

Freddie snickers as he taps his cigarette against an ashtray. “Yes, we’re all well aware of your anatomical preferences, Bri.”

Chrissie rolls her eyes. “Please do not elaborate.” She’s not offended—she’s far too used to Freddie’s shenanigans to be offended—but she’ll be embarrassed if he makes a scene at a wedding.

“Darling, I don’t care what anyone tries to tell you, plenty of men love a little extra meat on the bones. Particularly the ass bones.”

“We’re in God’s house!” you scold him in a hiss. “You’re going to give Great Aunt Zofia over there an aneurysm if she hears you!”

Roger quips: “Great Aunt Zofia stole the last kielbasa right out of my disabled, ineffectual grasp, so fuck her.”

You all burst into shocked, uncontrollable laughter. Great Aunt Zofia squints judgmentally at the commotion from several tables away, gnawing on her kielbasa; she’s been glaring at John and Veronica—the Tetzlaffs’ very own fallen angel—since she first ambled into the church. Roger rocks back in his chair, smoking with his unbroken left arm, smirking cockily and basking in the distraction from the real world that the wedding has gifted you all tonight. He catches you watching him—marveling at him, truthfully—and winks.

John appears and rests his hands on the back of your chair. “What’s so amusing? I swear, I leave you people alone for two hours and you’re having all sorts of fun without me, I won’t stand for it!”

“It was a lovely ceremony,” you tell him. “I’d forgotten how beautiful Catholic weddings are, all the music and ambiance.”

“And from what I saw, you knew most of the words.”

“We have a lot of Irish people in Boston. Saint Patrick’s Day is bigger than Christmas.”

John points at Roger’s cast. “It’s not paining you too much, is it?”

Roger holds his Dark ‘n Stormy aloft, and ice clinks in the misted glass. “Enough of these, and I can’t feel anything. Numb to the world’s many disappointments. I highly recommend it.”

“Noted,” John replies. Roger has pills for his arm, but they only take the edge off. You don’t know that because he’s told you; Roger never tells you that he’s hurting, that he’s frustrated, that he’s afraid. He wears grins and flippant humor like a second skin, shrouding his wounds—both physical and disembodied, old and new—in darkness. Still...you can see all those words he doesn’t say swimming in the depths of his eyes. “I think I’ll hunt down a Manhattan myself.”

“Dad made an impression!” you tell John enthusiastically. “I’ll have to let him know, he’ll be overjoyed.”

“He mixes a good one, that’s for sure. I doubt Cousin Bartosz will be able to compare.” He casts a glance at a perplexed-looking, flame-haired teenager manning a tiny wet bar.

“Booze won’t help you heal,” Freddie informs Roger, checking his reflection in Mary’s makeup compact and fluffing his lustrous hair. “Eat your vegetables. Get more sleep. When do you start physical therapy, again?” Then, to you: “Darling, when does Roger start his therapy?”

Roger sighs. “I’ve got it handled, Fred.”

“Dear, don’t have a fit, I just want to make sure you’ll be ready—”

“I’ve got it handled,” Roger repeats, his tone a warning.

Brian breaks the tension with a toast, his Vesper jangling against Roger’s Dark ‘n Stormy. “I’m thrilled, honestly. Now I’m not the only one who’s ruined a tour.”

Roger grimaces. “Thanks, Bri.”

“Yes, let’s all have a turn,” Freddie mutters, sipping champagne. “Deaky can electrocute himself while fiddling with his amp, and then I’ll...what? Have my foot chewed off by an alligator in New Orleans? Get gored by a wild boar outside Atlanta? It just can’t be a boring maiming, that’s my only request.”

“Alaska has grizzlies, huge ones,” Brian suggests.

“Darling, in what dimension would my luxurious self ever end up in fucking Alaska?”

You shake your head, frowning down into your wine glass. It’s June now, the dead center of a crestfallen year: the rest of the Sheer Heart Attack Tour is cancelled, the record company is furious, and the band is broker than ever. Queen is supposed to start recording their next album—their last album, the record company insists, unless it happens to be a runaway success—in July, but you don’t know if Roger’s arm will be healed in time. None of you know that. You wonder if this really is God’s house, or at least one of his homes, sanctified piles of bricks and glass scattered across the globe; maybe you could ask Him where Queen’s future lies.

Veronica swoops in and dusts an airy kiss onto Mary’s cheek, and then Chrissie’s, and then yours. “Thank you so much,” she gushes. Her high cheekbones are flushed, her watery eyes sparkling. She’s in heaven, sinner or not. Her massive white dress swishes with every step. “We couldn’t have done it without you. And you’re next, Chris! I can’t wait.”

Chrissie smiles. She and Brian are getting married just before Christmas. “Yes, well, time will tell if we’ll be serving Christmas ham or canned beans.”

“And then Mary...” Veronica’s gaze migrates across the table. Mary’s been wearing a ring on her wedding finger since Queen returned from Japan, a simple gold band that once belonged to Freddie’s mother. “What about you, Y/N? Any plans? Then we’d all be hitched!”

Red wine spurts from your lips and you fumble for a cloth napkin. Roger doesn’t believe in marriage, and neither do you; not after only four months together, anyway. And yet...is there some part of you that can’t help but think of papers and rings when you get lost in his eyes, of promises of forever, of some way to tie yourself to him like vessels to a heart? Sure; and that’s a little wonderful, that’s a little terrifying. “Uh, uh, oh, oh no, definitely no plans whatsoever.”

“What bollocks!” Rog sneers. “Really, what’s the point if you’re not religious? Who needs a bloody piece of paper to prove they love someone?! ‘I care for you so much I need the government to know we’re together and the hassle of divorce fees to make me stay,’ what the fuck. I mean, uh, no offense John, Bri, uh...this is all well and good for you, but...ah...”

“It’s just not your scene. That’s fine, Rog,” Freddie says with a tad too much empathy. Mary doesn’t seem to notice.

“But you’ll want children at some point, won’t you?” Veronica asks you, almost pained. She’s not trying to be cruel, you realize; she genuinely can’t fathom the pinnacle of a woman’s life as anything but being a wife and mother.

“Theoretically, sure. One day. Eventually.” You titter nervously. Roger’s good arm circles your shoulders, his cigarette lofting smoke. Oh, but wouldn’t he make beautiful children? You push that thought away. It’s too soon, it’s too much, it’s not in the cards for an impoverished maybe-drummer and his girlfriend; and a girlfriend—with all the intangibility and impermanence that title entails—is all I’ll ever be. “I think I need to travel the world a bit more first.”

John sighs and pats the back of Veronica’s hand. What is that weight in his voice...impatience? Annoyance? “Ronnie, please, don’t bother her.”

Veronica sulks, scraping the old scuffed linoleum floor with her pointy white heels. “I wasn’t trying to bother anyone...”

Mary comes to the rescue: “No, of course not. You didn’t, dear.” She likes Veronica more than Chrissie does. Isn��t she oppressively vapid? Chrissie has asked you more than once. Isn’t she so miserably naïve? Veronica is sweet, sure, but she has no fucking idea what she’s in for. “Babies are wonderful, but they do make things harder, don’t you think? Especially for the mother. You have to be ready to drop everything for them. All your other interests and aspirations.”

“I suppose,” Veronica mumbles. You can tell she’s thinking: What other aspirations?

“But you must be so excited!” You beam up at Veronica. It’s her wedding day, and John’s; it should be happy, it should be optimistic. And you’re learning to like Veronica—less than Mary, but more than Chris—because you know that’s the best thing for John.

She instinctively rests her hand on the swell of her belly; or, rather, where it must be somewhere beneath all those heaps of satin and tulle. Great Aunt Zofia’s glare intensifies. “I’m scared to death, to tell you the truth.”

“Why?!” Mary cries.

“I’m so afraid something will happen to him.” Veronica’s voice is soft, her blue eyes glassy. She’s certain the baby is a boy, claims she had some sort of dream about it. “There’s a lot of bad luck going around for us, isn’t there? And my mother lost four babies. Any time he stops moving, I worry constantly until my next appointment. I haven’t felt anything in days, and I just...I just...” She trails off, staring vacantly across the crowded church basement. She’s trying not to cry, you realize.

“I can try to check for you,” you offer. “If it would make you feel better.”

“Really?” Veronica sounds hopeful, but guardedly so.

“This is embarrassing, but I carry my nurse kit almost everywhere I go now. That’s why I brought my huge blue purse even though it doesn’t match the dress. You know, you can’t be too careful...”

“Yes, who knows when someone will try something idiotic like jogging backwards down the stairs?” Freddie muses. Roger lobs a pierogi at him. Great Aunt Zofia wheezes out a disgusted huff and crosses her veiny, wrinkled arms over her sagging chest.

“I have a stethoscope,” you continue. “I can’t guarantee I’ll find a heartbeat, but I’ll give it a try if that would help.”

“Would you, Y/N?” Veronica clutches for John’s hand, and he lets her take it without any resistance; but he doesn’t seem to know how to comfort her. He has the same dazed look on his face that he has a lot these days, the same look that Bri and Freddie sometimes get: like they’re on autopilot, like they’re actively filtering through brainwaves to fish out any that wander astray. Roger lands a kiss on your bare shoulder and pitches you a playful smirk, his I’m so proud of my too-fucking-smart girlfriend smirk.

You grab your purse from beneath the table. “Does God’s house have a cozy private spot somewhere?”

Veronica leads you, Mary, and Chrissie to a small unoccupied room that is used (how pertinently) as the church nursery. The pink wallpaper is dotted with waddling ducklings, cloud-shaped sheep leaping over fences, smiling suns and winged cartoonish angels. Veronica settles into a faded blue couch, and Mary and Chris help her shove aside the massive plumes of her wedding dress to reveal the plain shift she’s wearing underneath. She’s over five months along now, and her entirely unremarkable bump seems colossal on her delicate frame.

You pop the headset into your ears and press the chestpiece against Veronica’s unyielding belly, gliding it over the pearly shift as you try different positions.

“Anything?” Mary asks anxiously.

“It’s not bloody instant, Mary!” Chrissie snaps. “Be quiet so she can listen.”

“No need to be cranky—”

“You can’t find a heartbeat, can you?” Veronica says, her voice quivering. “Oh god...”

“Found it,” you announce. You hold the chestpiece in place as you yank the headset off and pass it to Veronica.

She gapes at you. “You’re just saying that so I’ll stop worrying, aren’t you?”

“Hear for yourself.”

Veronica takes the headset and listens, closing her eyes as the rapid-fire and rhythmic swishing of her child’s heartbeat floods through her ears. “Oh,” she breathes, beaming. “There he is.”

“That’s incredible!” Mary trills. “Can I hear too, Veronica? Whenever you’re finished...”

Mary listens, and Chrissie does too, and then you all help touch up Veronica’s hair and makeup before you head back to the reception. The cake is due to be cut in twelve minutes. As you smooth the short train on her dress, Veronica turns back to you.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” she asks timidly, hugging her belly. “You know...for this.”

“That’s something I’ve always liked about nursing. So many jobs require sorting out who’s right and wrong, casting judgment, assigning punishment. There’s no weighing of the moral scales in medicine. It doesn’t matter if a patient is trustworthy, deceitful, good, bad, worthy, undeserving, if they disappoint you, if they’re the ones who hurt themselves. You treat everyone, you heal everyone. And I would like to keep that part of myself for as long as I can.” You smile at Veronica. “But, for the record, no. I don’t think you’re a bad person at all.”

She sighs in relief, untethering an anchor she hadn’t even known she’d been dragging around by her throat. “Thank you,” she whispers, tears snaking down her powdered ivory cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on.”

“How do you feel about marble lion statues? You know, the ones at the end of long, winding driveways. Rich people’s driveways. Mansion driveways. Or do you prefer gargoyles?”

“Roger.”

He groans, grins, presses his right fist into your palm. You measure the force with your mind, with your muscle memory. He’s stronger than he was yesterday, the day before, last week. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rog teases. “You’ve got a soft spot for damaged people. Helpless people. That’s why you warmed to Brian so quickly. He was lying there all gaunt and jaundiced and terrified, and you just couldn’t resist, you just had to make sure all his wildest dreams came true.”

“I have a soft spot for self-destructive musicians who end up in hospitals, evidently.” Your gaze cruises over the scar on Roger’s forearm where the surgeons popped his bones back into place, stabilized them, stitched the ragged gore closed. You hate looking at it; you hate reminders of how mortal Roger really is.

“I want lions,” Rog decides. “For the driveway of our eventual mansion. I like the Leo connection.”

“And the Queen crest connection.”

His grin widens, toothy and radiant. “See, I knew you were the love of my life.”

“Come on. Again.”

He winces this time. “Doesn’t hurt a bit.”

“Uh huh. I bet.” You’ve slathered his fresh blisters with numbing antiseptic ointment, iced his arm, administered pain medicine, allowed him the constant sips of alcohol necessary for him to work, to drum, to sleep. But he still hurts. You imagine he hurts all the fucking time.

It’s August now, and Queen is recording their fourth album at Rockfield Farm. You and Roger are sitting by the pool as Freddie splashes around in the clear chlorine-smelling water trying to get John’s attention. John, meanwhile, is lounging on an inflatable raft, wearing black sunglasses and most likely asleep. Brian circles the pool snapping photos with your Canon F-1.

“I have a plan,” Roger informs you as he starts his stretches without prompting. He knows the drill, even if he likes to be difficult about it.

“By all means, enlighten me.”

“Fred’s thing, the weird one. It has a name now.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Oh, it’s perfect!” You try to stay out of the band’s business decisions as much as possible; it’s not your expertise, and it’s not your place, and there are already a few too many creative chefs in that kitchen. Still, you love when they share their magic with you. “Eccentric, whimsical, exhilarating. Just like the song. Just like Queen.”

“I’m so glad you approve. We’re going to make sure it’s the first single off the album. And I know exactly what song’s going to be on the B-side. Freddie and Bri don’t know yet, but I do.”

“Sounds like they’re going to murder you when they find out.”

“I’ll convince them.” His grin is crafty, daring. “Picture it: you’ve just finished the incomparable experience that is Bohemian Rhapsody. You’re a newly converted Queen enthusiast. What could possibly come next? You flip the record over. And the virile, screeching, pure rock and roll passion of I’m In Love With My Car is there to greet you.”

“Oh my god, Roger.” You shake your head in mock mourning. “They actually are going to murder you.”

“Listen, love, BoRhap is going to be a hit. I can feel it.”

“Sure,” you agree lukewarmly. You want to be supportive, you really do. But disappointment stings more than resignation.

“It will be,” Roger maintains, unmovable. “And it’ll sell mountains and mountains of singles...and with my song on the B-side, I’ll get half the royalties. Which means we’ll get half the royalties.”

“Which is how we end up with the hypothetical mansion.”

“I’m being serious.” Roger picks up his mini barbell weights from the water-splattered concrete and begins his bicep curls, flinching each time he lifts his right fist.

“Rog—”

“I’m fine,” he insists. “I’m going to make this happen. I’m going to get rich so I can provide for my family. You know about that, you know it’s on my list. And my family includes you now.”

“I don’t need a mansion, Roger.” I just need you. You stare at his right arm worriedly. “Are you sure—?”

“I’m fine!” he shouts, and you recoil. Brian peers over from where he’s taking pictures of blooming purple foxgloves. Instantly, Roger regrets it. “I’m sorry,” he says, setting down the barbells and cradling your face with his rough, bandaged hands. “I have to be fine, you know? I don’t have a choice. If I can’t play, I can’t be in the band. If I leave, John will leave too, and that’ll be the end of everything. Or worse, John will break the pact and stay and they’ll find a new drummer and forget all about me. Sail off into some blissful new future. And where will I be? Moping as I drag myself back to dental school? Becoming a freaking lab biologist? Resigning myself to being some excruciatingly ordinary bloke, someone who climbed just far enough out of Cornwall to know everything he’s missing out on?”

You try to imagine who Roger would be without the band, but you can’t. You’ve never known a pre-Queen Roger. “No,” you say, amused. “You’ll never be just some ordinary bloke. You’re too brilliant, too determined. Even if you do have a dodgy arm.”

He kisses you, and you can feel his lips curling into a smile beneath yours. “So you’ll let me buy you a mansion.”

“If you get I’m In Love With My Car on the B-side, and BoRhap is a hit, and Freddie and Bri don’t smother you with a pillow in your sleep...yes, you can buy me a mansion. Buy us a mansion.”

He winks, his sapphire eyes glinting in the late-summer sunlight. “Watch out, baby. I get everything I want eventually.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s done,” John tells the others as he passes out copies of his new song, the second he’s ever written. There are only four sheets of crisp white paper; as you watch from the studio couch, you wonder what the song is about, why he didn’t mention it to you.

“It’s done?!” Brian yelps. “What do you mean, it’s done?! Nothing’s ever done after the first pass! That’s how it works, that’s how it always works, someone suggests something and then we all dice it and slice it and flip it around and stitch it back together like the world’s most maniacal surgeons, and then, only then, maybe, it’s done.”

You glance up from where you’re sewing an eleventh patch onto Roger’s jeans. “Must we disparage the medical profession?”

“Sorry, love,” Roger tosses to you with a laugh.

“It’s done,” John repeats.

“Deaky, darling,” Freddie ventures gently. “We should endeavor to keep our minds open to collaboration—”

“Oh, should we, Fred?!” Bri exclaims. “How extraordinary, you never seem to encourage collaboration when it’s your song on the cutting floor!”

“Okay space boy, you listen here—”

“‘I’m happy at home’?!” Roger reads, revolted. “We’re not the bloody Bee Gees, Deaks!”

John explains measuredly and patiently, as if to a child: “That’s the way it goes. We record it as it is or not at all.”

“That’s not how we do things,” Brian mutters, deep frown lines chiseled through his face as he scans the lyrics.

“Then just fill the album with your and Fred’s songs like you always do, I’m sure that’ll keep me and Roger loyal.”

Brian glares at John. John stares back stoically, his eyes like steel. Brian looks to Roger for support; Roger lights a cigarette and pretends not to notice.

“Darling, please, you’re not being reasonable!” Freddie pleads.

“I need it.” John turns to Roger now. “I need it to stay the way it is.”

Rog just watches him for a while, exhales smoke, shrugs. “Okay,” he says at last.

“Okay?!” Brian howls. “What do you mean, okay?!”

“He said he needs it,” Roger replies simply.

Bri throws his hands into the air. “Bleeding christ! ‘He needs it.’ What rubbish! Do something, Fred!”

“Oh relax, darling.” Freddie sashays to the microphone and points to Brian’s Red Special. “Let’s try it out.”

“But—!”

Roger claps Brian on the back as he trots by him towards the drum kit. “Come on, Bri. Big smiles. Just picture the nice shiny pounds from all those album sales plinking into your bank account. You’ll have fifty Christmas hams at the wedding, one for every guest.”

You listen passively from the couch as they rehearse, trying not to let on that you’re paying attention, trying not to overstep. But you can’t help being struck by the lyrics, feeling the somberness of Freddie’s voice and John’s tentative notes on the electric piano slink into your bones; because it sounds so familiar, because it echoes so many things that John has told you.

When Queen takes a mid-afternoon break and John slips into the kitchen for a Coke, you follow him.

“Hey John?”

“Yeah.” He rests his hands on the dining room table. They’re sturdy and unmarred and completely unlike Roger’s; and you aren’t sure why you notice this, but you do.

“I completely understand if I’m being intrusive, and if I am please just tell me to shut up and I will.”

He chuckles. “You’re never intrusive. Go ahead.”

“I was just wondering...who is You’re My Best Friend about?”

Now his smile evaporates. “No one in particular,” he says briskly. “It’s just a song. Just something to put on the album. Maybe a single one day. A soulless royalties grab.”

That seems unlikely. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He takes a swig of Coke, peers down at the table, traces swirls of centuries-old oak with his fingertips.

“It’s just...you know...well...it kind of sounded like...maybe it was about me.”

He looks up. And for the first time, John levels some of his infamous, razored words at you: “Don’t be such a fucking narcissist.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, John doesn’t apologize. But he smiles at you over tea, offers to clean off the fingerprints of strawberry jelly that Roger left on the Canon, splashes you from the pool as you sunbathe beneath lapis August skies. And you agree, wordlessly and unconditionally, to forgive him. Because John is your best friend, whether or not you’re still his.

Nine weeks later, Bohemian Rhapsody is released as a single. (And, as promised, Roger ensures that I’m In Love With My Car is on the B-side.)

Twelve weeks later, Bohemian Rhapsody reaches the #1 spot on the UK Singles Chart, and remains there for over two months.

Fifteen weeks later, A Night At The Opera becomes the #1 album in the UK.

Fifteen weeks later, Queen’s future is suddenly crystal clear.

#queen fic #roger taylor fic

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queenmylovely · 5 years ago

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Wedding Party III

Summary: Ben hardy x fem!reader. The night before the wedding is for the bachelorette party and the bachelorette party only, right?

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: cussing, building tension, flirty texting, spoiler alert: heavy make-out section (very light smut, no underwear is removed, pretty much just descriptive grinding lol)

A/N: Part 3 to part 3 of the celebration! Thank you so much again to everyone who follows me, including the people that have since I hit 500, cause it’s been quite a minute. This one’s a little shorter, but it gets the job done I think. Make sure to catch reader’s Freudian slip lol. Yell at me if you must. Any feedback is super appreciated but especially replies, messages, and asks are super helpful for my writing ‘cause I get to hear what you think!

Part I, Part II, Part IV, Mini i, Mini ii, Masterlist

(dorky cutie, gif by @catspawzz-yeahyeahyeahthedrummer)

💖💖💖

How you were up at 3:00am the night before your best friend’s rehearsal dinner and subsequent bachelorette party was beyond you. Well, it wasn’t really beyond you because you knew why. It was that damn Ben. You and he had been texting since that first game night and some nights it lasted until one of you fell asleep in the very early morning, phone in hand.

It stayed… mostly friendly, but every so often it ventured towards flirtation, which you thoroughly appreciated. But then the morning would come and one of you would inevitably make the switch back to just friendly. All in person interactions followed the same type of pattern. A couple more game nights as each other’s partners, dinner parties sitting across from each other and sharing looks and laughs, and brunches with free flowing mimosas and bloody mary’s that turned you both into tipsy, touchy flirts were enough to make both of you desperately want a quick fuck in a wedding reception bathroom (or anyplace and anytime sooner), and maybe more too.

In any sort of wedding related event, the two of you were paired up, and usually by the happy couple themselves. It was some sort of sweet torture that the two of you were walking together. You both greatly enjoyed spending so much time together, talking, flirting, whatever, but the damn rules were always on the edge of your minds.

Not that either of you knew the other was aware of the rules as well. Ben had the tiniest inkling that you might be, but he didn’t want to risk bringing it up in case you didn’t because he would’ve been a little embarrassed. You were completely clueless and were more focused on not breaking the rules than figuring out if Ben had any idea about it, because boy was it getting hard not to break them.

Anyway, it was 3:00am and you were struggling to keep your eyes open, but Ben’s texts always came right when they were about to close.

Ben: So what r u guys doing for Luce’s party?

Y/N: umm i think that’s a secret

Ben: A secret? I already told u what we’re doing 😤

Y/N: that’s on you bud

Ben: Rude

Ben: Whatever it is try not to get too drunk so I don't have to deal with u complaining of a hangover at the wedding

Y/N: says the guy who shows up to most of the brunches hungover or half drunk from the night before. besides, it’ll be hard to get drunk when i don’t have my personal drink maker there

Ben: Ah ur dependent on me now? No one else does it quite like me?

Y/N: that’s right, hardy. no one else keeps me filled up the way you do, it’s why i keep you around

Y/N: *my cup

Ben: It’s not the stimulating conversation or my charming good looks?

Y/N: those help, but no it’s your usefulness as a personal bartender

Ben: If I’m ur personal bartender, where are my tips?

Y/N: i’ll settle up after the wedding

Ben: Looking forward to it

_____

About 16 hours and a rehearsal and rehearsal dinner later, the wedding party was splitting into two groups for the respective bachelor and bachelorette parties.

You saw the boys gathered by one of the tables where the rehearsal dinner had been. Lucy and Rami were talking so everyone was taking a minute before it was time to leave. From where you were you could see Joe and Sami talking in hushed tones and counting what looked like a few hundred dollars in bills ranging from ones to twenties.

Catching Ben’s eye as he was scowling at you, you couldn’t help but laugh. Since he had told you that they were going on a chartered boat that had been set up for poker, you knew exactly what the money was for. Ben walked quickly over to you, crossing his arms and giving you a look once he got there.

When he didn’t say anything you asked, “Can I help you?”

“You haven’t told anyone have you?” Ben asked, still frowning. The little crease between his eyebrows and the slight pout of his lips made it hard to remember to answer his question.

“Of— of course not, I’m not gonna risk ruining the surprise for Rami,” you said, placing your hand on his still crossed forearm before smirking and saying, “Unlike you.”

Ben’s frown deepened for a second and you worried if you had been too mean, but then he just started laughing. You joined in and both of you took a step closer without realizing.

“Shut up,” Ben said, still chuckling.

You looked up at him with a challenge in your eyes and replied, “Make me.”

Ben suppressed a groan and looked down at you, biting his lip. There were a few seconds of heated silence and you felt yourself moving closer to Ben as he was doing the same.

“Y/N, we’re ready to head out, are you?” Emma called from where she and the rest of the bridesmaids were.

Ben cleared his throat and you turned around to tell her yeah. Then you turned back to Ben, putting your hand on his arm again, “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Have fun, be safe,” he told you.

“You too, don’t go falling off the boat,” you said with a smile that he returned.

Then he leaned down and kissed your cheek quickly, saying bye as he stepped back and you waved before turning around and following the group out the door.

_____

The bachelorette party was set up at your apartment because it was bigger than Emma’s and so that it could maintain the surprise for Lucy. It had required a bit of thinking for you and Emma to figure out what to do because Lucy didn’t want to go to a stripclub or anything of the like. Plus, since she was having the party the night before her wedding, she didn’t want a wicked hangover. She also wanted her mom, aunt, and young cousin to come, so it had to be something that they could participate in too.

Everyone went inside, seeing the multiple tables set up in the living room, wondering aloud what the plan was. It was only a couple minutes before there was a knock on the door. Just outside, there were two women wearing aprons that you let in with a smile.

Emma stood up to introduce them, “Everyone, this is Katy and Jay, they’ll be teaching us how to make cocktails tonight!”

Everyone exclaimed happily, and you were glad to see Lucy smiling brightly in excitement. You went to the kitchen and wheeled out a bar cart that had all of the equipment, alcohol, and mixers that would be needed. There were enough tables for everyone to be in pairs, and you were paired with Lucy so that Emma could be with her cousin, May.

One from each pair grabbed one of each of the items that Katy and Jay said to grab. The group included one pregnant bridesmaid, one who just didn’t drink, and the fourteen year old May, so your instructors had planned drinks that would still be good without alcohol.

The class ended up being a lot of fun; they taught different types of martinis, spritzes, mojitos, and G&T’s, so that by the time they were all made and everyone that was drinking tried them all, it was enough to be more than a little tipsy.

Jay and Katy took their leave after many thanks and promises of more cocktail parties in the future. Then you announced the next part of the evening.

“It-- it is now time for a fashion ex-- extara--vangza!” you exclaimed, stumbling over the long word and causing everyone to crack up with you.

Then Emma came out of your room, pulling, along with the help of her mom and aunt, two giant racks of clothes that you and she had spent the past few weeks collecting at different thrift and second-hand stores. You had gotten old wedding dresses, prom dresses, funky patterned shirts, bohemian skirts, oversized blazers with giant shoulder pads, sparkly bralettes, and everything in between.

Seeing the clothes, Lucy jumped up and ran over, immediately looking through them and soon there was a little crowd around the racks.

Emma tried to shout over everyone, “We have seven minutes to create an entire outfit and then we will have our fashion show! Don’t worry, this is only the first of many!”

The whole affair was full of laughs, shouts of excitement, and a couple quick arguments over who got what. Then the runway had to be prepared, which meant turning on the color changing LED lights you had and turning on a playlist of Beyoncé, ABBA, Rihanna, Adele, Lizzo, Lady Gaga, Billie Eilish, and Queen, though only the upbeat songs.

Everyone did their best struts down the runway and then posed strikingly at the end, channeling their inner model. The crowd said their oohs and ahhs and clapped for each one. You and Emma took turns modelling and being a photographer each round so that all of the outfits were captured during their walk.

After about five rounds, the fashion show devolved into a dance party where everyone was laughing and singing along with the songs.

Around midnight, you lost Lucy’s mom, her aunt, and May to tiredness. And once the first group had left, it wasn’t long before others started leaving as well. By 12:30am, the only ones left were Lucy and Emma, to help clean up. But you both tried to make Lucy sit and relax since she was the bride and shouldn’t have to clean up after her own party. She refused and helped anyway, hanging up the clothes that had gotten left on the couches and floor. Though a lot of them ended up in a large tote bag she found in your room that she planned to take home with her.

Once all the trash was thrown away, the dishwasher was running, and the last stray glittery shirt was hung up, you ushered Emma and Lucy out the door with hugs, kisses, and reminders to get a good night’s sleep.

You flopped on your couch, tired out but also somehow wired with energy and you debated over watching one episode of TV or just going to sleep. You were reaching to grab the remote to turn off the music when there was a knock at the door.

Rolling your eyes and smiling on the way, you unlocked it and threw it open, the question, “What, did you realize you left one of the pairs of cute trousers behind?” halfway out of your mouth before you realized that it wasn’t Lucy and Emma.

“Ben,” you said in surprise. Probably the last person you were expecting at this moment was Ben, but there he was, in dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt that fit him too well to leave anything to your imagination, his hair a little messy like he had been running his hands through it and his cheeks flushed pink due to what you could only assume was alcohol.

You opened the door wider and let him in, after you remembered to stop just staring at him and trying to imagine what he’d look like with those clothes off.

Ben smiled at you sweetly and said hi. Then he looked you up and down and a brief look of confusion crossed his face.

You looked down at yourself and realized that you were still wearing one of the sequin bralettes, a black mesh t-shirt underneath that, a high waisted neon purple skater skirt, and a houndstooth yellow and pink blazer with shoulder pads. Chuckling at yourself, you explained, “Oh, we had a fashion show.”

As the two of you walked into your living room, Ben nodded in understanding.

“Sit. How was the boat? Who won big in poker?” you asked as you sat on your feet, kneeling. You asked a little more enthusiastically than usual, but you were still kinda tipsy.

“Boat was good. Ummm I think maybe Rami won, yeah, he has a good poker face, he’s a good actor. Has an Oscar, you know,” Ben rambled, and you nodded with a smile as you thought that he must be kinda tipsy himself. Then he turned so he was facing you more and closed his eyes, shaking his head, “But we didn’t even play poker for long.”

“No?” you asked, leaning closer to him.

“No,” he said, opening his eyes slowly and smiling, “We did karaoke instead.”

“That sounds fun,” you whispered, looking down to his hand that was very close to yours. If you had been sober, you would’ve just looked, but you weren’t, so you grabbed it in yours and started playing with his fingers.

“Mmmm,” Ben hummed and you wondered whether it was in agreement to your statement or because he enjoyed what you were doing.

“What did you sing?” you asked curiously.

Ben flipped your hands so that he was the one doing the playing as he responded, “Me and Joe did a duet of ‘Greased Lightnin’’ from Grease. He was Danny and I was Kenickie.”

“Kenickie was always my favorite,” you commented, looking up from your hands to his eyes.

Ben looked up to your eyes as well, leaning in and asking, “Really?”

You moved closer too, and as you nodded, you felt his breath on your lips yet again.

This time, there were no interruptions and you closed the last few inches together, your lips finally meeting. The first kiss was soft, but the next one was a little more urgent, and the next even more so. Before you knew it, you were parting your mouth for Ben’s tongue and he was teasing along your lower lip, daring you to follow into his mouth.

You moaned as Ben’s hands came to your waist and he helped you straddle his lap. Your hands went to his chest and down to his stomach, feeling the taught muscles that you had seen through his shirt. Ben pushed your blazer off your shoulders and then one of his hands moved to tangle in your hair and the other slid lower and underneath your skirt to your ass

Breaking the kiss, you instead moved to placing kisses along his jaw then down his neck, scraping your teeth lightly on his pulse point and making Ben shudder. He moved his hands back to your waist and pushed down, at the same time grinding his hips up into you from below. You gasped and moaned, feeling his hardness pressing against you through only your underwear.

Kissing back up to his mouth, you bit his lower lip, getting a groan and another grind of his hips in return. Your hands slid up his torso and then to his hair, tugging it lightly and Ben continued to help you move with him as he moaned. Each pass of his hard cock on your clothed pussy made you a little more desperate for more and you whined whenever he grazed your clit.

When you tilted your head back in pleasure, Ben took the opportunity to move to your neck, kissing down the column of your throat before starting a search for your sweet spot. He found it quickly, and started sucking, but as good as it felt, you had to stop him.

“Ben, no marks, the wedding.”

Just that simple sentence knocked the sense back into both of you and you each leaned back, your hands all moving to your own sides.

“We can’t do this,” you said in unison, and then looked at each other in confusion.

“Wait--” you started.

“What--” Ben said at the same time.

“Why can’t we?” you asked him, a few thoughts falling into place as you remembered that initial conversation when Lucy had singled out Ben.

“Well, I’m just not supposed to-- I mean, I probably shouldn’t say…” he trailed off awkwardly and you got off his lap quickly, pacing in front of the couch as you came to a conclusion.

“Did Lucy tell you not to sleep with me?” you asked, turning to Ben quickly.

“No, well yes, well kind of. I guess it’s fine. Rami told me not to sleep with anyone from the wedding party, he didn’t single out you. But I assumed that Lucy felt the same way,” Ben said sheepishly, a blush covering his cheeks.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Lucy told me not to sleep with anyone either. Except she did single you out. She excused that it was because we’re walking together, but it’s probably because we’re both sluts. Nice to know I’ve got an ally out here,” you said wryly but when you looked over at Ben he just looked very confused. You quickly added, “That wasn’t meant as an insult.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just surprised that they would go to such lengths. And I’m a little mad,” he commented.

You nodded and flopped back down on the couch next to him, “Yeah, me too, but I can see their point.”

Both of you sighed and then laughed.

“And we probably shouldn’t do anything tonight?” you asked, wanting his agreement, because you were close to just saying fuck it and doing something anyway.

“Yeah, we probably shouldn’t tonight,” he said, facing you and you could see that there was still a healthy amount of desire in his eyes. “But I make no promises for the reception.”

💖💖💖

Permanent taglist: @riseetothesun @caborhapch @drowseoftaylor @queenlover05 @johndeaconshands @supersonicfreddie

Series taglist: @killer-queen-87 @theprettyandthereckless @radiob-l-a-hblah @theonsasheart @hannafuckingsucks

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this little series or my permanent one, just send me a message or ask!

#my roommate yelled at me for this #called me a tease #I aim to frustrate #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #ben hardy #ben jones #fic #series #wedding party #queenmylovely #bohemian rhapsody x reader #borhap boys #borhap cast #borhap x reader #bohemian rapsody movie

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sunriserose1023 · 5 years ago

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Merry & Married {4}

SUMMARY: It’s been almost a year since the most humiliating moment of your life. You’ve done your best to move on—by literally moving across the country, starting a new job, and you’re finally starting to feel settled. That, of course, is when your bubblehead cousin sends you the invitation to her wedding—which is exactly one year to the day that you were left at the altar. You have to go, but you don’t have to go alone. Enter Bucky Barnes, the best friend you’ve ever had. You fill him in, and of course he agrees to go home with you. What are friends for? Never mind the fact that he’s desperately in love with you. And if you hadn’t sworn off men forever, you might just find him … attractive. So there you are, surrounded by love, bridesmaid dresses, champagne, and no less than one hundred sprigs of mistletoe. What could possibly go wrong? WORD COUNT: 3285 WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES: Emotional angst, presumably unrequited love, friends to lovers, fluff, happily ever after, written for the @heamarvel Holiday Movie Challenge

Masterlist

“Y/N? Hey, sweetie. Wake up.”

You blinked your eyes open, disoriented as you looked around, eyebrows drawing together. Bucky smiled, patting your thigh again.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

You yawned, shaking your head.

“Crap. I’m sorry, Buck.” “Don’t be. You needed it.”

You held a hand to your forehead, giving a deep exhale. Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple before resting his forehead against it.

“It might not be as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

You nodded, leaning against him with your eyes closed.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t think I could do this without you.” “No place I’d rather be.”

You snorted as you sat up, opening your eyes and smiling at him.

“I’m sure Sam and Steve had something to say about this little trip.”

Bucky slowly nodded, then waved a hand at you.

“Who cares what those dorks think?”

You laughed.

“You do, Buck. No matter what you say.”

You patted his thigh, straightening your shoulders and taking in a deep breath. You glanced out the window of the SUV and nodded.

“I am excited to see everyone. I just don’t want them to look at me like …” “Like they pity you?”

You smiled, then nodded, turning back and meeting his eyes.

“It’s like you can read my mind.”

Bucky smiled after you, lifting a hand to twirl a piece of your hair around his finger.

“We’ve spent a lot of time together over the past year.”

You nodded, feeling your heart speed up the slightest bit. You swallowed, forcing yourself to look out the window again.

“You ready to meet everyone?”

Bucky nodded and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Where’s Nat?” “Oh, she hopped out as soon as we got here.”

You sighed.

“Probably to warn everyone that I’m here and to not mention the P-word.”

You glanced back at Bucky and saw him pressing his lips together, trying not to smile. You shook your head and let out a quiet laugh, shoving his shoulder.

“You’re twelve, I swear.”

Bucky laughed, moving to open the door and climbing out of the car. He turned back and offered you a hand, and almost without thinking, you set your hand in his. As per usual, a spark rushed up your arm as soon as your hand was in his, igniting more when Bucky gave you hand a soft squeeze. You kept a tight hold to his hand as he started towards the back of the SUV, where your luggage was. You gave a shake of your head, giving his hand a tug as you started walking forward. Bucky walked with you, taking your hand and looping it over his arm.

“Do we need to get the luggage?”

You shook your head.

“Someone will come get it.” “You sure?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest keeping you from saying anything else. Bucky leaned over, and your eyes closed when his hot breath washed over your ear.

“Your heart is pounding. Try and relax.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes closed as you trusted him to lead you forward.

“Oh, there she is.”

Your eyes opened and a smile spread over your face. You slipped your arm from Bucky’s and ran up the front steps, tears coming to your eyes when your mother embraced you.

“There’s my girl. Oh, I missed you!”

You couldn’t speak, but your mom had always known what you couldn’t say. She just held you, blinking back tears of her own, gently rubbing your back. She spoke softly, for only you to hear.

“I’m so glad you decided to come. I’d have understood if you didn’t want to, but I’m so glad you’re here. Also, this cutie at the bottom of the stairs, we’re going to have to discuss.”

You gave a watery laugh, pulling back from your mom and sniffling. She wiped your tears away with her thumbs, smiling widely.

“Sweet baby.” “I love you, Mama.”

She smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek before turning to Bucky.

“Young man, are you going to stand down there all day?”

Bucky shook his head, jogging up the steps. You sniffled again, laying your hands on her shoulders.

“Bucky, this is my mom. Mom, this is Bucky Barnes.” “This is Bucky? You didn’t tell me you were bringing him!”

She stepped forward and caught him by surprise when she embraced him, and Bucky smiled as he moved his arms around her.

“Thank you for taking care of my baby.”

Bucky’s smile widened.

“Of course, Mrs—“ “Oh, none of that. You can call me Mama, too.”

Bucky met your eyes over your mother’s shoulder and you lifted a shoulder. He winked at you, straightening and smiling when your mother looped her arm through his.

“Come meet the family. They’ll be so happy to know Y/N brought—“ “A friend, Mama.”

She turned back to meet your eyes and you made yourself smile.

“Bucky’s my best friend, just here to get me through the wedding.”

One of her eyebrows arched and you tilted your head, that fake smile still on your face. She blinked, giving you a look that you knew meant the two of you would be discussing this later. You nodded and she patted Bucky’s arm before making him start walking.

You closed your eyes, dropping your head forward. You took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Why the long face? We haven’t even started wedding shit yet.”

You smiled as you looked over your shoulder, closing your eyes as you wrapped your cousin in a hug.

“Carol.” “Hi, honey.”

She stepped back from you and smiled, and you lifted your hands to touch her hair.

“You let it grow out.” “Yeah, the butch look didn’t sit well with me.”

You laughed and she slid an arm around your shoulders. The two of you slowly began walking around the porch.

“So what have I missed?” “This week or this year?”

You side-eyed her and Carol smiled.

“Darcy’s not a total bridezilla, but she’s had her moments. London Boy calms her down a lot.”

You giggled and Carol tapped on the ball of your shoulder with her fingers.

“You missed the bridesmaid dress shopping, which I’d say was a gift from God. Some of the dresses they made me try on …”

She shook her head and you giggled.

“On the opposite side of that, now you’re stuck in a dress you didn’t get a say on.”

You nodded.

“I’m just …” “I know, honey.”

You nodded again, letting out a sigh. You and Carol turned the corner, stepping through the front door. You found Bucky right away, being interrogated by Natasha’s parents, and you laughed at your Uncle Phil, arms crossed over his chest as he tried to look intimidating. They looked over towards you and Phil’s face lit in a smile.

“My favorite niece!”

Carol rolled her eyes.

“I’m right here, Uncle Phil. Right here.” “And he said the same thing when you showed up. Hi, sweetheart.”

You smiled as Nadia, then Phil embraced you. Phil walked to Carol and ruffled her hair, kissing her temple. You made your way to Bucky and he leaned over, whispering in your ear.

“Thanks for saving me. God, they’re worse than Natasha.”

You laughed, rubbing a hand over his back.

“You’ve never met them?”

He shook his head.

“I know they come see Nat a lot, but we always seemed to just miss each other.”

You nodded, and Bucky smiled at you.

“I love your mom.”

You smiled back at him.

“Well, she’s probably already scoping out a place to hang your stocking with the rest of the family, so…”

He chuckled, reaching down to take your hand.

“You okay?”

You nodded.

“Haven’t seen everyone yet. Want me to introduce you to Carol?” “Nah, I’ll go talk to her myself.”

You jumped at the sound of a squeal, and Bucky pushed you behind him as the two of you turned towards the source of the sound. You smiled when a blur of dark hair made its way to you, and Bucky helped keep you upright when the blur grabbed you in a hug.

“You made it, you made it!” “Hello to you too, Darcy.”

She leaned back, holding you at arms length, a huge grin on her face.

“I’m getting married!”

You smiled, nodding your head.

“I know. I’m so happy for you.”

She hugged you again, and you waved to the man over her shoulder.

“Nice to see you again, Ian.” “Same to you, Y/N. Darcy’s been going on and on about you.”

You smiled, rubbing Darcy’s back as you felt a warmth in your chest. Darcy pulled back and grabbed your hand, forcing you to walk with her.

“I have a question. You know those centerpieces you had last year?”

You blinked but nodded, and Darcy went on.

“Do you have any idea where they are? I want to embellish them a bit but we can’t find them.”

You shook your head.

“I honestly don’t know. Did you ask my mom? I didn’t have anything to do with the clean up after …”

You cleared your throat and Darcy nodded.

“I think there’s a few other storage places we haven’t looked yet.” “Oh, there she is! Y/N, hi!”

You smiled, pulling your hand from Darcy’s as you walked to where Hope was sitting at the counter in the kitchen. The two of you laughed as you embraced, and you stepped back to put your hands on her blossoming belly.

“Look at you!”

Hope smiled, nodding as she laid a hand at the top curve of her stomach.

“I’m huge. I don’t remember what my feet look like.” “When’s this baby due?” “February, and it’s in your best interest not to mention the size of the belly or how big the baby will be. Just trust me on this.”

You laughed as Hope’s husband stepped into the room.

“Hi, Scott.” “Y/N!”

You gasped, a wide smile coming over your face as you knelt down. Scott’s daughter Cassie came rushing into your arms and you held her tightly.

“Oh, I missed you, little peanut!” “I missed you, too!”

You set her feet on the floor and took her hands, shaking your head as you looked up at her.

“You grew. I swear, you’ve grown like five inches since I saw you last.” “And guess what!”

She opened her mouth for you to see her missing front teeth, using her tongue to wiggle a tooth next to them.

“Oh no, Cass! You’re losing your teeth!” “She’s keeping the tooth fairy in business.”

You glanced back at Hope and smiled and Cassie tapped on your shoulder.

“There’s a boy here and I don’t know his name, but he’s really cute. Is he your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened and Hope pushed herself out of her chair, going for the doorway to look into the other rooms.

“Who is it?!” “Don’t make a—“ “Ooh, there he is! Damn, Y/N. Nice.”

Cassie took in a quiet breath, tugging on your shirt.

“Daddy said ‘damn.’ That’s a quarter in the jar.”

Hope elbowed Scott’s stomach as he winced.

“Nice going, Daddy.” “Well, this one was worth it. Look at him!”

You sighed, shaking your head. Cassie grinned when you looked down at her again.

“He’s very cute.” “He’s my friend. My best friend. That’s all.”

Hope snorted and you glared at her, but she turned back to Scott, whispering something that he nodded at. You swallowed as you looked across the room, seeing Bucky and Carol laughing. Cassie tugged on your shirt and you looked down at her.

“You should get him under the mistletoe.” “Oh, not that again.”

Hope laughed and nodded, both hands gently scratching her belly.

“Hidden sprigs all over the estate. Darcy made it a rule that if you get caught under one, no matter who it is, you’ve got to kiss them.” “On the cheek.”

You met Hope’s eyes and you both smiled at Cassie’s chime in. You nodded and laid a hand on her head, giving another quiet sigh.

“Y/N, want to go see my ant farm?”

Your eyebrows raised and you met Scott’s eyes.

“Those are still a thing?” “Apparently. Since she’s allergic to pet dander and she’s dying for a pet ... Well, we can thank Grampy Hank for this early Christmas present.”

You chuckled and Cassie took your hand, tugging you along after her.

“Antony is Daddy’s favorite, but I haven’t decided if he’s mine.”

You smiled at Bucky when Cassie dragged you past him, and he watched you go until you’d disappeared down a hallway.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad.”

Bucky turned back to Carol, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry?” “Yeah, so am I.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and she winced.

“Dude, you’re going to need to rein that in.” “What?” “The … pining. It’s almost palpable.”

The color drained from Bucky’s face.

“It’s that obvious?”

Carol’s mouth faltered, and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Probably not to Darcy. But she’s got the observational skills of a glass of orange juice.”

The side of Bucky’s lips quirked up and he dragged a hand down his face.

“I try really hard not to make it obvious.” “Ooh, you do have it bad.” “Don’t tell her.”

Carol made an “X” over her chest.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Probably would be easier if it wasn’t a secret, but hey. It’s your funeral.”

Bucky nodded, blowing out a breath. Carol patted his back, then motioned towards the kitchen.

“Come on. I’ll introduce you to my sister and her blended nuclear family. Just don’t comment on the belly or feel her wrath.”

You sat in the bedroom you’d always stayed in, staring out the window. This room had a perfect view of the lake, and the pier leading down from the house to the water. You’d always sat in this room to escape the hustle and bustle of your big family, to find a moment of stillness in the seemingly ever-present chaos.

The last time you’d been in this room was after you were left at the altar.

Natasha had cut the corset off you, the ribbons used to secure you into the dress too much to try to untangle while the panic attack kept you from breathing. Hope had waved programs in front of your face, the cool air helping the slightest bit. Darcy had held your hand, unable to say a word while you cried, and Carol had held you in her arms, rocking you back and forth until your voice was hoarse from sobbing.

You were shaken from your memories by a quiet knock on the door and you smiled when your mom walked in. She looked out the window and smiled, sitting beside you on the bed.

“How are you?”

You nodded.

“I’m okay. A little overwhelmed.”

She nodded, patting your hand.

“That’s to be expected.” “Did you give Darcy all the decorations from last year?”

Your mom sighed.

“Most of them.”

You nodded and she spoke again.

“Y/N, I tried. I really did. I tried to get her to have the wedding another day—any other day—but she wouldn’t. She insisted on—“ “My day.”

Your mom nodded, letting out a breath and shaking her head.

“I don’t think she’s doing it to be mean.” “Oh, I don’t think she is either.”

Your mom smiled, leaning over to brush her fingers through your hair.

“I think she loved everything about your wedding, except for the … you know, and she’s trying to recreate that.”

You nodded, closing your eyes.

“She did go on and on about the decorations. And the food.” “You’re a brave girl, my love.”

You sighed.

“I don’t feel very brave.” “You should. You didn’t have to come, yet here you are.” “Yeah, but the real test will be the dinner party tomorrow night.”

Your mom sighed, and you opened your eyes, turning to face her. You put a smile on your face.

“I’ll be alright, Mama.” “I know you will.” “It’s just … it’ll be the first time I see those people since my wedding. And I hate to be looked at with pity.” “I know you do. You got that from your dad.”

An almost involuntary smile came over your face.

“I miss him.” “Oh, so do I. More than I breathe, sometimes.”

Your smile widened.

“Do you think he would have kicked Peter’s ass?”

Your mom let out a laugh.

“My darling, that little bastard would be nobody’s problem, I can guarantee that. Nobody messed with his baby girl and got away with it.”

You laughed, leaning over to rest your head against your mom’s shoulder. She kissed your temple, then gave your shoulder a pat.

“Come on. It’s time for dinner and your Nana’s been going on and on about this New York boy you brought home to her.” “She loves him already, doesn’t she?” “Well, he’s easy to love.”

You felt your heart trip in your chest as you glanced down at the bedspread.

“Yes, he is.”

The words were barely a whisper, but they burned leaving your throat. Your mother was sitting on the bed again before you could lift your head, eyes wide.

“Y/N, you talk to me right now.” “Mama—“ “Are you in love with this boy?”

You pushed yourself off the bed, shaking your head as you walked to the window.

“No.” “‘No?’” “No.”

She clicked her tongue and you closed your eyes. You shook your head again, turning to face her with tears in your eyes.

“I can’t. I can’t do it again.” “Oh, honey.” “I can’t get hurt like that again, Mama.” “And you think that boy would ever do anything to hurt you? Y/N, he looks at you like you hung the moon.”

You shook your head, turning away from her.

“No, he doesn’t.”

The lie left a sour taste in your mouth. Of course you’d seen the way Bucky looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You saw the way Natasha rolled her eyes when the three of you were together, when you and Bucky were like magnets to each other and she was your third wheel. You saw the knowing looks Steve and Sam exchanged whenever you hung out with them, and you even tolerated the scary movies Sam always chose, just because he knew it would get you in Bucky’s arms so he could protect you from evil clowns and killer puppets on tricycles and anything else.

You just couldn’t let yourself love him. You couldn’t give yourself over to him, because when you did, he’d have the ability to break you. You’d given Peter everything you had and he’d broken it, left it shattered at your feet.

You couldn’t go through that again. You didn’t think you’d survive it.

“Hey, Nana’s getting antsy about … everything okay?”

You wiped the tears from your cheeks as your mom stood up, walking to the door and giving Carol a smile.

“We’ll be down in just a few minutes.”

Carol nodded.

“Hey, Y/N, just a heads up, beware of door frames.”

You glanced to your cousin, looking up when she motioned. You gave a quiet laugh and Carol leaned forward to kiss your mom on the cheek. Your mom laughed, shaking her head and closing the door. You met her eyes and she nodded to you.

“Go wash your face. Take your time, but don’t take too long, okay?”

You nodded and she left the room. You closed your eyes and gave a shaky exhale, grabbing your makeup bag and heading into the bathroom.

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