#you can’t not love them you legally cannot

[zerothesonic]

there is literally nothing, nothing at all that you can say that will convince me that this was not an absolute masterpiece

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[canideformed]

Trans men do not have male privilege because you cannot separate their trans identity from their male identity.

People love to say, “but they’re men and men are privileged!” as if you can just. Pretend they’re not also trans. Or they say that it doesn’t matter that they’re trans if they pass because people will just see them as men.

Just. Think it through. Think about what happens when the experiences of trans and cis men are compared at any systemic level.

1. A cis woman says that a cis man sexually assaulted her. The woman is told she is probably dramatic by the cops and the cis man isn’t impacted because all his friends are misogynists. People talk about how boys will be boys and how it wasn’t his fault, women wouldn’t understand men’s’ sex drives.

2. A cis woman outs a trans man and says he sexually assaulted her. The trans man is arrested and jailed (keeping in mind you can be arrested with no proof, only reasonable suspicion—such as an allegation) by cops who openly watch him pee because they wanted to get a look at a pussy on a man. He gets out and his friends hear through the grapevine that he’s trans. They laugh at and grope him the next time they see him and they ostracise him. People talk about how testosterone is such an evil chemical and how the trans guy is dangerous because he has a “female brain running on toxic male hormones.”

For another comparison—

1. A cis man goes in for a routine sexual health checkup—a prostate exam. It is quick, though awkward and uncomfortable. He later begins to feel ill. He sees a doctor who takes his symptoms seriously and treats him appropriately.

2. A trans man goes in for a routine sexual health checkup—a pap smear. He is stared at in the waiting room. The nurse calls “Ms.__” and is visibly confused when he stands up. The doctor isn’t educated on trans bodies and doesn’t use enough lube (or simply doesn’t care to) and it hurts. The doctor asks invasive questions about bottom growth and ignores the guys’ preferred terminology for his parts and his identity. The guy files an insurance claim that is denied because his legal gender is M. He has to either pay or try to deal with the company. He begins to feel ill. He sees a doctor who sees that he’s trans in his chart or spots the testosterone prescription or an old or legal name. The doctor tells him it’s probably the T without doing a proper exam and that T is dangerous for “females” and he should consider stopping.

Male privilege is systemic. It’s not just who the waiter looks at first when they take a dinner order. It’s men being protected by the system by other men in power. Trans men do not have that protection. The second a transphobe thinks a criminal might have been a trans man they start talking about how it was because his mind couldn’t handle the testosterone. (Remember when there was a rumour that a school shooter was transmasc?). They worry about him “tainting” cis women. Because he is trans, it means that people don’t even see him as man enough to be protected by the system. It is because he is a trans man and trans manhood is not respected as Real by the cistem.

Part of male privilege is having your voice believed and your autonomy respected. But trans men are told their pain isn’t real, that they’re being dramatic, that it’s their period or the T. Trans men are at risk for sexual abuse and fetishisation by cis people who might use a medical exam as an excuse to hurt or assault them. Trans men are not seen as a possible type of man, so insurance systems auto-deny sexual healthcare for trans men because “men can’t have that issue.” Part of male privilege is having your voice centred, and yet many conversations about abortion and access to birth control actively exclude trans men, because trans men are held personally accountable for the pregnancy, even when it’s rape. Cis men don’t experience anything like that.

And sure! The situations I laid out above don’t describe ALL trans men. But they also don’t describe ALL cis men or ALL cis women. The difference between cis men and trans men is that trans men, along with other gender minorities and cis women, are specifically targeted by oppressive patriarchal systems by virtue of both their trans and male identities.

It breaks my heart to see people tell trans men to ‘take accountability’ for their privilege when I hear all the time about trans men who are in jail for killing the person who was raping them, about trans men who were abused by police, about trans men who were tortured and murdered.

[minchanfilm]

stray kids younger ninth member headcannons

pairing youngot9 x stray kids

warnings mentions of teasing, cursing

notes i lost the request for this i think i accidentally deleted it bruh. but it was like can you do headcannons for stray kids as the ninth member but they’re still in high school — since some of yall are young and cannot date them i suppose i will grant you with how they’d treat you in a non bf gf relationship way

mlist

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

bangchan:

duo: father x daughter

- this man would literally treat you like his kid

- you genuinely see him as a father figure and rely on him probably too much

- always watches you to make sure that you’re still alive and breathing

- checks up on you so much to the point where you have to remind him that even though you’re young, you can take care of yourself

- if you do something stupid with a member, he definitely scolds you both if something goes wrong

- wakes you up for school and makes you lunches

- would get in the car to pick you up from school, but all the members would beg to come along so you would be picked up by a bunch of loud childish grown men

- cries every year on your birthday because you’re getting older LMAO

- “why can’t you stay young forever” “i quite literally cannot control that”

- you call him dude and bruh and he’s given up on correcting you

interviews/concerts:

- during interviews, if you’re not sitting next to him, he’ll always be glancing at you to make sure you’re okay

- also always makes sure you get the chance to talk if you’re more on the quiet side

- during games, if you’re competing against each other he always lets you win even though you just want him to play normally

- constantly checks up on you on stage especially during performances

- is always always always making sure that you’re eating good and taking care of yourself before and after performances (and just in general)

when you get mad/crash out (you’re a moody teenager it’s bound to happen):

- is lowkey scared of you

- you’re also lowkey scared of him in return so you’ve never snapped at him

- gets felix or i.n to talk to you

- if one of the members is the reason that you were mad, he gives them a talk and after that they never make you mad again

when you’re sad:

- once again gets felix or i.n to talk to you

- if you’re crying and he’s the one who finds you first, he just hugs you silently while you cry onto his shoulder

- i’m in tears i need to be comforted by him

- if you’re feeling really overwhelmed or stressed from work, he’s always willing to give you a day off

how he shows affection towards you:

- this man loves physical touch, so he would always be hugging you

- you always tell him to get off but he hugs you tighter just to be annoying

- thinks he’s sooo funny

- lets you sleep on him whenever you’re not near a bed

when he finds out you have a crush on an idol from a different group:

- let’s pretend it’s ni-ki from enhypen cause it’s more on the legal side

- thinks it’s so funny

- teases you whenever he’s brought up

- when you do collabs with other idols for tiktok and ni-ki is one of them, he makes you guys pair up (even though you both know it’s never gonna happen, he just thinks it’s cute)

when you do a scandalous tiktok dance:

- is SHOOK

- “absolutely not” “bruh”

- doesn’t let you post it or even show any of the other members

lee know:

duo: the bash siblings

- would probably try to be nicer to you when you first met

- but when he makes a snarky joke and you match his energy, he immediately deems you as his favorite person ever

- you both make rude/teasing remarks towards each other all the time to the point where the rest of the members think you’re actually arguing

- you also gang up on the other members to bully them

- however, if you’re more on the sensitive side, he tries to be nicer

- his members are lowkey scared whenever you both are together because they never know when they’re gonna get attacked

- definitely beefs with little kids on roblox with you

interviews/concerts:

- like chan, is always checking up on you

- if you have to compete against each other during interview games, you both are so competitive that it gets out of hand sometimes

- during concerts, you both are always throwing water at each other or having trip wars - you try to trip each other in different ways

- chan notices you doing it every time and tells you to stop before one of you actually gets hurt

- you’ve only tripped him once and you absolutely died laughing when you did, but he’s never successfully tripped you

when you get mad/crash out:

- lowkey finds it funny

- just stays out of your way if you’re genuinely mad

- but if you’re just annoyed, he’s probably the reason why

- continues to annoy you until chan tells him to stop

when you’re sad:

- isn’t really sure what to do but feels bad

- like chan, just lets you cry onto his shoulder silently

- every member is just gonna direct you to felix or i.n LMAO

how he shows affection towards you:

- he lowkey doesn’t

- his insults are out of love so i guess that counts

- deep down loves and cares for you a lot though

when he finds out you have a crush on an idol from a different group:

- let’s pretend it’s ni-ki again!

- laughs out loud when he finds out

- is always teasing you about it

- teases you when you’re in the presence of ni-ki and you get so mad

- is genuinely the funniest thing ever to him

when you do a scandalous tiktok dance:

- judges you

- “where did you even learn to do that?”

- also doesn’t let you post it

- “you’re like five years old, you can’t post that” “be so fr rn”

changbin:

duo: the favorite siblings

- you both are always making each other cackle with stupid jokes

- no one matches his energy better than you

- is definitely the type of person to smack you while laughing when you say something funny

- but you do it in return

- has so many inside jokes with you that the other members gave up on trying to keep up with you both

- when something exciting happens, he’s always excited to tell you because he loves how you match his energy

interviews/concerts:

- you’re always cackling in the back with him during concerts over the weirdest things

- same thing with interviews - you guys have to be told to stop screwing around

- you always somehow end up on his side during team games so you’re always supporting each other

- saw you trip lee know that one time and died laughing with you

when you get mad/crash out:

- like chan, lowkey scared

- you’ve never snapped at him either because you know you’d feel bad

- always knows how to cheer you up somehow

- most of the time it’s with stupid jokes

- or he does it accidentally by running into a wall or something

when you’re sad:

- feels so bad

- wants to cheer you up but doesn’t always know how to

- lets you rant to him

- also cheers you up by doing something stupid

how he shows affection towards you:

- always laughs at your jokes

- + inside jokessss

- hitting you when he laughs

when he finds out you have a crush on an idol from a different group:

- ni-ki once again

- thinks it’s super exciting

- when you see him in public, he nudges you with a smirk

- “look, it’s your boyfriend” “shut up!”

when you do a scandalous tiktok dance:

- is shocked at first but then -

- “can you teach me?” “i knew you’d ask”

- learns it also and you both eat it up

hyunjin:

duo: yapper x yapper

- you both are the biggest yappers

- put you both on live and there will be no silent moments. just constant yapping

- if you can draw, you definitely bond by drawing together

- if you can’t, that sucks idk what to tell you

- maybe he teaches you if you’re up for it

- you can’t help but think he’s the cutest ever because let’s be serious he literally is

- like all the other members, just has the urge to watch over you to make sure you’re always okay

interviews/concerts:

- if you’re struggling to learn a certain choreography, he always helps you

- members sometimes have to separate you guys when you tell a story because you just don’t shut up

- the most unserious duo during games- neither of you gaf

- dumped water on you once during a concert and let’s just say you got your revenge and he has not done it since

when you get mad/crash out:

- tells chan

- then just leaves you alone

- not tryna get yelled at by chan or you LMAO

when you’re sad:

- hugs

- lots more yapping from you ranting to him

- if someone was being rude to you, he’s definitely the type of person to be like “she’s such a bitch, why would she say that?” “right??”

how he shows affection towards you:

- always keeps the conversation going (i be hating it when people don’t listen when i speak so personally i find this to be affectionate)

- is always just there whenever you need him

when he finds out you have a crush on an idol from a different group:

- yall know the drill- ni-ki;)

- thinks it’s funny

- teases you but is the most delusional supporter

- “we made eye contact the other day” “oh he wants you fr”

when you do a scandalous tiktok dance:

- is honestly probably the one who showed you the dance in the first place

- does it with you

- you guys would definitely do the money pull up dance just for funsies

- you post it and everyone in the comments hypes you up

han:

duo: best friends

- loves doing stupid things with you

- you both will go live and just eat

- and i mean complete silence except for the sound of you both chomping down

- until you make eye contact and absolutely lose it

- being weird together is your guys’ thing

- there is never a dull moment between you two

- views you as his little sister and absolutely adores you

- when you get scolded by chan, it’s most likely because you did something stupid specifically with han

- loud duo

- the other members have to tell you guys to shut up sometimes

interviews/concerts:

- always helps to calm you down if you’re feeling anxious since he understands:(

- if you’re not sitting next to chan during an interview, you’re next to han

- during games, you guys are always yelling and that’s when you’re told to shut up

- also saw you trip lee know and had to walk away before he lost it

when you get mad/crash out:

- is probably crashing out with you

- listens to your ranting no matter how long you go on for

- is like hyunjin: “no because that’s such a bitchy thing to do” “that’s what i’m saying”

when you’re sad:

- is sad for you

- hates to see you cry

- wipes your tears for you

- once you were crying so hard that he started crying with you

- you felt horrible for making him cry so you cried even harder

- it was a whole mess

how he shows affection towards you:

- annoys you sometimes

- lots of hugs, like chan

- you always fall asleep with your head on his shoulder, and he eventually falls asleep too by resting his head on yours

- never makes you doubt if he literally hates you or not

when he finds out you have a crush on an idol from a different group:

- “OOOOUUUUU, EVERYONE Y/N LIKES-” “shut your mouth right now before i shut it for you”

- big time teasing

- teases you even harder after you have a conversation with your crush and come back all red faced

- “im telling channie hyung” “you better fucking not”

when you do a scandalous tiktok dance:

- screams

- “why can’t you do the renegade or something?” “r u fr”

- doesn’t want you to post it because he feels protective but honestly doesn’t really care what you do

felix:

duo: therapist x client

- your #1 comfort person

- personal therapist

- is so so caring towards you

- his presence is just comforting

- you both can sit in complete silence and you’ll just feel calm knowing that he’s there

- since he’s on tiktok a lot and knows a lot of trends, you guys have the same humor

- teaches you how to play his video games

- you end up becoming better than him at them and he’s js like😦

interviews/concerts:

- you force him to be by you during interviews

- you’re always either next to chan or han, but felix is always on the other side of you, no questions asked

- always checks up on you

- dumps water on you but you can never get mad at him for it

when you get mad/crash out:

- as i just said, you can never get mad at him

- one time you did snap at him and you cried after because you felt bad

- he told you that it was literally fine but you’re still upset about it to this day

- “y/n i swear it’s not a big deal” “i literally yelled at you, it is a big deal”

when you’re sad:

- the first person you go to

- is such an understanding person you lowkey wanna cry even harder just because he’s so nice

- he always cheers you up just by being there

how he shows affection towards you:

- is just always there for you

- understands you completely

- is always on you side during an argument

- i feel like he’s the type of person to have his hand on your back when leading you through busy crowds idk

when he finds out you have a crush on an idol from a different group:

- thinks it’s so cute

- doesn’t tease you but still finds it kinda funny

- he’ll see you talking to your crush and just smile

- doesn’t even need to say anything when you walk back, the look on his face says it all

when you do a scandalous tiktok dance:

- hypes you up

- probably ends up joining in

seungmin:

duo: tom and jerry

- he may not show it but deep down he cares for you a lot

- you’re lowkey the human version of puppym and that describes your guys’ relationship well enough

- you love annoying him

- secretly he loves it too

- he doesn’t realize it but he’s lowkey one of your top comfort people

- like lee know, you guys are mean to each other in a loving way of course

- you guys spend quality time together by watching movies in silence while chomping down on snacks

- after the movie ends, you share your thoughts with each other

interviews/concerts:

- your skzoos + you both = absolute chaos

- i feel like your skzoo would be like a deer or something to resemble you being the youngest idk but it would be a menace

- tried to trip you after you tripped lee know but failed

- unfortunately chan saw too and he got a scolding!

- “she started it” “yeah blame it all on me”

when you get mad/crash out:

- just keeps his distance

- not tryna catch these hands👊

- warns the other members

when you’re sad:

- is always there to listen

- he may not know what to tell you or give the best advice, but he’s always willing to let you rant to him

- awkwardly rubs your back and hugs you

how he shows affection towards you:

- like lee know, he honestly doesn’t

- you know that all of his bullying is done out of love

when he finds out you have a crush on an idol from a different group:

- just laughs

- “good luck with that”

- can’t help but be excited for you when he sees you talking to your crush

when you do a scandalous tiktok dance:

- judges you

- bombastic side eye

- “why are you showing me this?” “nvm get out you’re such a negative nancy”

i.n

duo: snoopy and woodstock

- everyone’s favorite duo

- you have the most heartwarming relationship

- like felix, i.n brings a sense of comfort to you - just being around him calms you down

- adores you

- sees you as his little sister and feels the need to protect you

- if the whole group is ever hanging out and they can’t find you and i.n, you’re most likely hiding out in yours or his room, messing around

- as the maknae duo, everyone is always getting cuteness aggression from you both

- when you guys are left alone, chan doesn’t even worry about you guys getting into trouble because he trusts you both will just end up watching tv or doing smth chill

interviews/concerts:

- you both check up on each other

- you make eye contact and give each other a thumbs up

- just silent symbols of showing that you’re fine

- you hate competing against each other

- you both are always full of energy on stage

when you get mad/crash out:

- knows that you probably just wanna be left alone so he tells the other members to leave you be for a bit

- after awhile he’ll come and check on you

- cheers you up with his cuteness

when you’re sad:

- one of the chosen members to check up on you

- if felix isn’t around, he takes over as the therapist

- an amazing listener

- “queen never cry” “where on earth did you learn that”

how he shows affection towards you:

- is always super nice to you no matter what mood he’s in

- ruffles your hair whenever he walks past you with a small smile on his face as you glare at him

when he finds out you have a crush on an idol from a different group:

- promises to not tell anyone

- you probably just told him instead of keeping it a secret because you trust him

- teases you quietly after he sees you interact with your crush

- “so when’s the wedding??” “oh shut it”

when you do a scandalous tiktok dance:

- doesn’t know wether to laugh or cry

- “…that’s nice” “thanks?”

- awkwardly leaves

[sirhamburrger]

ᯤ feat. yoichi isagi, meguru bachira, hyoma chigiri, rin itoshi, seishiro nagi, kenyu yukimiya, ryusei shidou and oliver aiku ᯤ tags/cw: all characters are aged up, bit suggestive (shidou you freak), petnames ('sweetheart' in isagi's, 'love' in rin's, 'babe' in shidou's), rin is mean (affectionately), shidou being a freak in the minecraft bedsheets, but also really sweet, hopefully not that ooc, i have a semi-serious, semi-casual relationship with minecraft ᯤ a/n: no reason for this whatsoever no prompt no nothing just take this love child between me and my insomnia *shoves this into your arms and runs away* || divider by @sister-lucifer part 2 [rocket league ver with kuni, reo, karasu, sae]

yoichi isagi:

ᯤ is just kinda average at it. like he truly is just okay at it. ᯤ he’s so competitive though (he would ‘race you to that tree over there’ 😭 but he doesn’t know how to sprint so he always loses to you) ᯤ he likes the little sounds the eyes of ender make when you place them in the end portal frame ᯤ defeats the ender dragon with your help but makes you go ahead of him when exploring the nether ᯤ “hey uh sweetheart? why’s that green thing flashing white and making a noise” ᯤ favourite mob: chickens (they’re funny)

meguru bachira:

ᯤ he l o v e s minecraft so much it’s unbelievable (he was probably one of those kids who grew up playing it) ᯤ he loves trying out different hacks he sees on youtube. he knows that 99 percent of the time they don’t even work, but “there’s a 1 percent chance it will, and i’m feeling lucky today!” ᯤ lets you practice your shooting skills using his avatar as a dummy ᯤ cannot wire redstone for shit ᯤ tries to get the rarest (dumbest) in-game death messages ᯤ baabaabaachira experienced mid-life crisis while being attacked by tropical fish ᯤ favourite mob: cave spiders (they look scary in a cool way)

hyoma chigiri:

ᯤ plays for the mobs. will protect his lovelies with all his heart. ᯤ when he got his first minecraft dog, he built a little kennel made of cherry wood for it, only for it to fall into a pit of lava deep in the caves on day 5 ᯤ he cried for five hours ᯤ once you dyed all his sheep pink and he started to tear up just from looking at them ᯤ “hear me out, okay? i think we should get a pet axolotl.” and it’s legal in japan, so you do! (her name is hyoma jr) ᯤ has a huge minecraft zoo ᯤ favourite mob: parrots (they can sit)

rin itoshi:

ᯤ is mean to you at first. he’ll be like “why do you suck at this” and “i could do that too” ᯤ then he gets his hands on the controller and can’t figure out the controls for half an hour ᯤ “… love?” ᯤ “… yes, rin?” (you, amused) ᯤ “… how do you jump…” ᯤ its subtle charm does grow on him after a while. he plays on creative mode and just explores the server on a horse he named sugarcube ᯤ it’s cute watching him play (you send photos to sae) ᯤ favourite mob: sheep (all they do is eat grass and don’t bother you)

seishiro nagi:

ᯤ i will subvert expectations here and say that nagi doesn’t even play minecraft that much because he doesn’t like it ᯤ “such a hassle to play this game… there isn’t even any storyline you can just do whatever you want… and i don’t want to have to decide what to do” ᯤ he ends up finding a passion for building elaborate traps for you to walk into ᯤ absolute beast at parkour. he performs triple neos to perfection ᯤ if he’s a streamer he plays on twitch for the fans but he complains as he does it ᯤ favourite mob: bees (they’re just cute)

kenyu yukimiya:

ᯤ he doesn’t really play video games so understandably he gets off to a slow start ᯤ but once he gets the hang of things? he’s unstoppable. breezing through achievements like nobody’s business ᯤ he’s really excited about it too like “did you see that?? i just killed a zombie!” ᯤ it’s truly the culmination of 18 years of not touching a single game as a child/teen and now playing a sandbox game ᯤ feeling confident, he starts a hardcore world. (he dies from hunger.) ᯤ he's the kind to look up the most beautiful minecraft seed numbers, key them in meticulously and just take in how amazing they are ᯤ favourite mob: foxes, specifically the orange ones (he loves all things forest biome)

ryusei shidou:

ᯤ we all know he’s a very artistic kind of guy so he’d be geeking out over the textures and which colours would go best with each other ᯤ he doesn’t shower for a day because he’s playing creative (my lil stinky 🫶) ᯤ he builds the most beautiful multi storey houses!! and he’s like “if it were real we could live in there together 🥺“ ᯤ “why is the bedroom huge with like twenty beds…” (you, concerned) ᯤ “oh we’re gonna need space babe. for activities.” ᯤ but he doesn’t stop there; he learns how to make entire cities and landscapes and frankly they are masterpieces - think shovel241 (i freaking LOVE his videos they’re so satisfying) ᯤ favourite mob: endermen (he thinks they look badass)

oliver aiku: 

ᯤ meh he’s pretty good ᯤ raged when he first found out fall damage was a thing and again when he discovered hunger and drowning as death messages ᯤ is obsessed with speed runs and parkour for some reason (he’s really bad at both though) ᯤ is the guy who makes “100 MINECRAFT FACTS YOU DIDN’T KNOW” videos with his friends sendo and lorenzo ᯤ you once saw him set up an experiment to see how many blocks a llama can spit and died laughing ᯤ would absolutely kill you in-game just for the fun of it ᯤ favourite mob: cats (especially the black ones)

say hi to hyoma jr. it is not optional.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[juletheghoul]

vita nova

a/n: So. This is a big one lol. It’s not the end of their story, it’s just a different chapter. I still welcome any and all requests for them, taking place before, and after this chapter. These two have become so important to me and a lot of you and I am so happy to delve into any aspect of their lives. (for the ritual, I borrowed heavily from one of my favourite shows but added my own little twists. Things I thought would add to the story.) This takes place directly after the last chapter and I’ve incorporated a few of the asks into it, hopefully you enjoy. Can’t wait to see what you all thought!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, body worship-Marcus gives his girl a nice massage, *FEELINGS* Huge shift in their relationship, grief, deals with loss (miscarriage), talks of infertility, ancient religious practices (physical examinations)- let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 7.6k (😅)

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

--

His fingers reach out and slide across the apple of your cheek.

“I’d like to hear you speak my name.” It’s not an order, it’s a statement and for a moment you’re lost. “I can see the conflict on your face. This is not a test, there is no punishment, I would hear my name on your lips, it is something I desire greatly.” He sits back, waiting for your wits to catch up.

“I do not wish to cause offence, you are my Dominus, and I will obey but never have I been commanded to do this.” Your hands shake a little, and you know it is partly with trepidation, partly with a feeling that is too big, too impossible to contain.

He smiles, not unkindly and he persists, a fountain of patience.

“I am not commanding you, I am asking you.” He takes your hand in his, and presses it to his lips. When his eyes meet yours again there is something in them you don’t think you’ve ever seen, something that looks like devotion. 

Although nude, although still feeling the spectre of him between your legs, never have you ever felt so naked, so exposed as you do under that look.

“Marcus…” it’s a whisper and he smiles, eyes focused on your mouth. 

“Yes, I do like the sound of it in your voice, I would have you call me by my name.” He pulls you forward, guiding you to sit on his lap. “I would call you love, if you would let me.” He presses his lips to your neck, his hands a comforting sweep from your neck down to your hip. 

It feels as though you’re in a dream. This cannot be the same Marcus you were sold to years ago. This cannot be the man that left to smother the rebellion, this man is someone else, someone softer, someone sentimental and it is hard to reconcile the person you’d come to know, and the creature that holds you close. The person who skims his nose across the base of your throat.

“I have thought a lot about what is truly important to me when the wound was fresh and death felt close enough to carry me off, and it is not glory. It is not the whims and wants of the Emperor, it is not the worship of the men under my command or the amount of coin I have earned by slicing through the battlefield." There is a fire in his eyes, burning with the words he speaks almost angrily.

"It is this. It is my home, and the comfort of your embrace. It is waking up of a night and feeling you holding onto me, seeking me out for warmth. It is the sound of your laughter when I make a jest, when you cry out in pleasure when I take you.” He frowns, sighing as he confesses something you had not known you’d been hoping and praying your whole life to hear. 

“I do not wish to be your Dominus, I wish to be more, I wish for you to be more. I wish for you to be mine, truly mine as I am yours.” 

“But I am yours Dom—“ he winces but you catch yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat at his words, “—Marcus. I am yours. Mind, body and soul, I belong to you.” 

“I own you, as I own all of those who serve under the name of Acacius. I wish for you to be here with me because you desire it, not because you are beholden to me.” His eyes search yours for comprehension, just as yours search his for the truth in his words.

“You wish for me to love you, truly love you not just as a happy slave loves their master, but as a woman loves a man?” Your fingers twirl a curl near his neck, something to focus on so you don’t go mad with joy.

“Yes. Is this something I could hope for? Is this something you could feel for me? I have been known to be a man of few words, and I know of my reputation. I am well aware of my dark moods and of my brutality. On the battlefield I am all that and worse but that is not my true heart. I know that I am older as well, but I could be a good man to you-“ you press forward, cutting off his words with a kiss. That he would think you don’t already love him is absurd. 

“Does this mean yes?” He presses his lips to yours again, softer, his arms holding you tighter still.

“Yes. I am sure that I am dreaming but if that is so then it is the best dream I have ever had and I never wish to wake. I care not that you are older, you are already a good man to me, better than any have been before. When you ask me to stay with you, to lay with you, to sleep beside you my heart swells, to think that you would feel for me even a shadow of what I feel for you is enough to sustain me for the rest of my years.” It’s more honesty than you’ve ever given and he drinks the words down like a man dying of thirst. 

“Then you are free. I release you from my service. You are yourself, a free woman and I invite you, I beg you to stay here with me. To live in this house and share with me all that I have.” Your jaw drops and he smiles wide, gifting you with a rare glimpse of the dimple in his cheek. 

“I have nothing to offer you Dom-Marcus.” You shake your head, annoyed at how difficult it is to drop the title and call him by his name. 

“I have no dowry, no father to broker any kind of union-“

“I have no need of a dowry. I have more than enough coin to sustain this house, and anything you may need or want.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, his eyes lighting up with mirth and happiness. 

“You really wish to have me here as more than a slave?” You run your fingers through his whiskers, smiling when he turns his face to press his lips to your palm.

“Yes, I wish to have you here with me, to share this life with me and to let me love you, let me be a good husband to you. Let me spoil you, my love.” He pushes you back so you both lay on his bed, tucking you in under his chin to hold you close.

The word husband, the word love makes your head feel as light as a feather. That you would go from a mere slave, to the wife of the General and favoured son of Rome is almost laughable. And so you do. You laugh, harder than you’ve ever laughed in your life. Your belly aches with the strength of it and it’s with a smile of his own that he inquires as to the source of your mirth.

“This must be a dream, I will wake up in a moment, and laugh about this. Only in a dream would you speak so openly about marrying me. Only in a dream would I swiftly rise from slave to the wife of the General of Rome.” You kiss his chest, “when I wake you will be my Dominus once more and I will just be your girl.” You smile at him, but he gives you a sad look.

“This is not a dream my love, and you will always be my girl, but not in the way you think. I will have the papers drawn up for your freedom in the morning, and we will discuss a wedding should you want one. If you wish to simply live our lives intertwined then I am happy to oblige you, although a formal marriage would make things easier.” 

The smile lingers, but the levity of his words sinks in, he is serious. 

“This is real then. You desire me as more than I am and I am truly free…?” You pull away, leaning on your elbow to watch his face. He nods, his hand rubbing at your shoulder, then your arm before it settles on the curve of your hip. You bite your lip, curious.

“If what you say is true, and I am indeed free, would you let me deny you? If I wished to leave on the morrow, and seek my fate outside this house, would I be permitted to do so?” You watch his face and he frowns, letting out a deep sigh. 

“If you wished to leave at this very moment, I would send you wherever you wished to go, with a heavy heart, a full purse and tears in my eyes.”

“You truly mean this then, I am free to do as a please, and you truly love me.” You press closer, tucking yourself back under his chin and take in the comforting scent of him, cheeks aching with the strength of your smile.

“Yes my love, I truly mean this. Will you stay?” Hearing him call you his love releases a whole army of butterflies in your belly. 

“Yes, I have no wish to be anywhere else. I have no wish to be with anyone but you.” You rise up, a thought striking you with a momentary fear. “But what will people think? You are the General and I am but a slave, you have scores of noble women vying for you, the ear of the Emperor and friends of proper birth. Not to mention the matches you’ve denied, Lavinia-” You spit out her name and he laughs a deep laugh, pulling you close once more. 

“What people think is their business, not mine. I care not about them, or Lavinia, you have nothing to worry about, it is you I want. No one else.” He strokes at your back again, lifting your knee to drape around his hip. 

“I have my hands full with you as it is, I must be mindful of my love's greed for me, hm? How am I to give any of my attention to anyone else when you seek to keep me for yourself? Did we not discuss this before my love? Don’t I belong to you?” He shifts, and settles between your legs and all at once the craving for him hits you like a boulder. 

“Yes, this is true, you do belong to me.” You pull his lips to yours, channelling all of your devotion and love into the kiss, your body responds to him quickly, as does his. His cock hardens against your belly and it’s with a moan that he adjusts himself and slips inside the mess he’d already made not moments before the conversation had began. 

“This little cunt is the only one I want, the only one that makes me harder than stone and the only one fit for the gift of my seed.” He raises one knee for leverage but keeps his pace slow and steady. 

“I only want you, Marcus-” His name feels so forbidden in your mouth, but the look on his face at the sound of it urges you to moan it. His movements are languid, he is in no hurry to bring about his end and you savour the feel of him deep inside, the sound of your name, your true name in your ear, the feel of his hands clutching at you as though you’ll float away. 

“Gods above, the power you have over me, woman.” He burrows his face into the crook of your neck, his thrusts turning into a slow grind and the pressure against your clit is just right, just enough to stoke the already raging fire steadily building in your core. 

“I’m already so close Marcus, I’m so close–” Your fingers clutched at him, and his steady, unabashed moans in your ear only push you closer and closer to your flutters. 

“Later, I will use my mouth again, would you like that?” He bites at your ear and you nod frantically, whispering a repeated chant of yes, eyes closed tight. “Soak me, I want to feel this little cunt gushing on my cock and in my mouth-” He reaches down and slips his hand between you, swirling around the sensitive button and shoving you into your peak with a deep groan. 

He shoves himself in deep enough to hurt a little and you feel the spurt of him filling you again. With a hiss, he rolls his hips still, pushing past the point of discomfort to watch his seed spill out around himself. 

Later, when the house is silent and you are curled up beside him swimming in the euphoria of his confession, another thought occurs to you. One that dumps an entire basin of ice cold water onto your warmth.

“Marcus, may I ask you something?” His breath is steady, and for a moment you think he might be asleep, but his hand moves from its place on your leg, stroking softly as he mumbles a sleepy hmm?

“What of children?” You drew patterns onto his chest, a nervous gesture because this was something you’ve never discussed with anyone.

“What of them?” His breath tickles at the crown of your head. 

“I—I do not think I can carry them. If we were to marry, you would have none to carry on your name.” This will be the true ending of the dream you think, he will rethink his madness and take back the freedom he’s given you. He will take back his declarations and marry another. The servitude you can handle. You’d enjoyed your life here. The love, the affection however, that you cannot handle being stripped of.

“Why do you say this?” His thumb sweeps across your skin, soothing.

“I have lain with others before, you yourself have filled me more times than I can count and it has never taken root, despite my blood coming every moon’s turn.” You’re thankful for the darkness then, the idea that he might be displeased with you over something you could not change would break your heart in two.

“Do you want children?” There is no anger, no disappointment in his voice, and for that you are grateful. It coaxes you to be completely honest.

“I haven’t given the matter much thought. In other houses where I served I took measures to never be with child for fear that it would be taken away from me, to be sold off while I remained. I feared for the mood of whichever Dominus I served, some were married and I couldn’t know how the Domina would react to a child being of her husband by a slave. I felt blessed that it never came to that.” You took a deep breath and let out a deep sigh. He listens, his breath even and calm, his heart a steady thump under your ear. 

“Then when I came into your service and we began our trysts, I was less prudent about my measures. I thought surely it would happen, with how often you gave me your gift. But the Gods have seen it fit to deny me the option. Being a slave, I thought it best.” He strokes at your leg draped across his middle. 

“You have not answered the question my love.” His tone is gentle, but firm. “Do you want children?”

“I do not know, but if I am correct and cannot give them to you, will you still want me to share this life with you?” It is a miracle your voice does not break asking the question. a few heartbeats pass, and your own pulse races, hopeful, and terrified.

“I want you regardless of any children you can or cannot carry. Being a soldier means playing a game of chance with death. I have been truly blessed, and have not fallen in battle and yet I think it would have been harder for me to be the man I had to be if I had a child pulling at my thoughts. I am old enough to have come to terms with the truth that I might not ever be a father, and I have made my peace with it.” His hand slides up the curves of your body, feeling it’s way across the map of your skin, a map he has memorized and lands on your chin, tilting it towards him to find your lips in the dark. It is a soothing press and it does much to calm the melancholy in your heart. 

“This does not change my love for you. This does not make me reconsider or rescind anything I have offered. If you find that you do want children after all we will deal with the matter then. Whether we have to find a medicus to advise, or a servant of the Gods to guide us, or make sacrifices–whatever the price, I will pay. Does this calm you?” He presses kisses to your cheeks, his lips wet with the silent tears that streak down your face. 

“Yes Marcus, yes.” You press your face into the crook of his neck and weep, letting go of the last vestiges of fear that had clung to you, before the great mouth of sleep opens up and swallows you whole. 

-

Marcus was never one to sit idle. His word was his bond and the next morning found you asleep in his bed, well past the hour you’d been expected to rise and go about your duties on a normal day. 

With a slight panic in your chest, you move quickly to find and tend to him, almost knocking over a tray filled with fruits and bread, soft eggs and freshwater. The panic swells, someone else had tended to him and he had not eaten. Flashes of his declarations fill your mind but it seemed like a dream, some wine-fueled madness and without his face there to greet you it is hard to feel like any of it was actually real. 

You find him in his study, brow furrowed and buried in a stack of parchment. When his eyes raise and find you, they crinkle with happiness. 

“I expected you to sleep a little longer, I kept you up.” He smiles, quill forgotten and it’s with a slight trepidation that you step forward, unsure how to refer to him but he is quick to see the turmoil on your face. “Did you eat? I had food brought to you–I would have broken my fast with you but I wanted to start the paperwork for your freedom.” 

“It wasn’t a dream then, it really happened?” He frowns for a moment, almost hurt but he lets out a sigh and beckons you closer. 

“Apologies D–Marcus–” You stand between his legs, hands on his shoulders and he shakes his head to forestall your apology. 

“You have nothing to apologize to me for. I can understand that it is difficult for you to suddenly stop feeling the way you have felt in this house, but I need you to know that you no longer serve me. You are equal to me in all things. This parchment–” He taps at the one closest to him before pulling you to sit across his lap, “-proclaims it. I feel it here–” He brings your hand to his heart, the steady thump of it pressing at your palm. 

His eyes search yours, a vulnerability you had only ever seen in them during the worst of his injury shines back at you. 

“I would implore you to remember it, feel it, know it here.” His hand presses against your chest, your slightly wilder, racing heart jumping against his hand. 

“Yes Marcus, I will remember it.” His lips press to yours, lingering, tasting, trapping your bottom lip in an unhurried but wholly reassuring kiss. 

One of the other slaves comes in, interrupting your embrace.

“Apologies Dominus, Domina–I will come back.”

“No need, what is it?” He smiles at the look of shock on your face, but holds you tight to him.

“The food is yet untouched, shall I dispose of it?” The shock at the new title freezes you in place. The implication that he had already informed the house of his decision to free you, of the new order of things only cements the idea that he is truthful in his declarations. The slave is another woman, older than you and it feels almost wrong to have her refer to you this way. 

“Would you share the meal with me, my love?” He presses a kiss to your shoulder, asking instead of commanding, and it takes a moment for your wits to catch up. You nod, unable to find your voice.

“Bring it here, we will break our fast while I finish my work.” He sends her off with a nod and you sit, silent still. “You will adjust.” His voice is soft, understanding and you sigh. 

“Will I? Seems so strange, just yesterday I was on the other side. Do not misunderstand me, I have never felt joy like this in all my life. I am full to the brim with love for you, but freedom is a foreign concept to me. I will need time.” Your fingers thread through his soft curls, mind racing at how quickly things have changed for you. 

“It is a big change, but you have all of the time you require. Once we have broken our fast, we will go out and find some more appropriate clothing for you to wear.” Your eyes widen again and he laughs, not unkindly. “My love, you cannot wear these tunics anymore, much as I love how easy it is to undress you, they are not for the lady of the house to wear. From now on you will dress as a proper Roman woman, a wife and the lady of this house, your house.” He smiles and you let out a breathy laugh, the insanity making you dizzy. 

“Gods above. This is madness.” You laugh, the absurdity of it all filling the entirety of your body, until the door opens again and the food is placed in front of you. 

“Dominus, Domina, if that is all?”

“That is all, you may tend to your other duties.” He dismisses her, and together you eat.

-

The clothing is hard to get accustomed to, surprisingly enough. It is of the highest quality, of that you can be sure but it is so much heavier than your tunics, the utilitarian square of cloth was practical and comfortable. It was made for the working people, to be unencumbered while you fulfilled your duties. 

You shift, feeling slightly awkward as you hold the fine fabric to your body. 

“How do you feel, my love?” He smiles from his place on his chair, watching with an amused smile as you fidget in your new robes. 

“The fabric is… very fine.” You turn to face him, holding the smile to your face despite your discomfort. He laughs, not unkindly. 

“That is not what I asked you, how do you feel in them?” He rises and closes the distance between you, his big hands landing soft upon your shoulders. You sigh, instantly calmed by his touch. 

“I do not know how I feel. It is perhaps the finest thing I have ever worn but how am I to move? How am I to…” Your voice trails off, frowning at his patient expression. 

“How are you to fulfil your duties? You have no duties, except sharing the running of this house with me. I know, it is a lot to adjust to but you will, I promise you.” His lips press to your forehead, and you nod.

-

The news of his union spread throughout Rome like a wildfire. 

Gifts arrive, seemingly from every corner of the empire. Baskets overflowing with fruit, wine, fine cloth, dates and figs and flowers of every colour. Jars of honey, beautiful pottery, and a whole stack of letters. 

Part of you fret over how people truly saw things, beneath the veil of courtesy, but as the months go on and the reception to your union to Marcus is mostly accepted with good grace, it is easier to fall into your new role; your new life. Marcus is true to his word, the whispers, the looks of others as you step out together are nothing to him. He pays no one any mind. No one but you. 

Sitting beside him, having his big hand dwarf yours as you listen to him make conversation with all manner of proper Roman citizens is strange to be sure, his reassuring touch though, his kind eyes make it bearable, make it almost normal to be amongst such elevated company. The most difficult thing to get accustomed to is being served. 

Your eyes always drift to whoever is pouring for you, or serving the food you eat, begging them not to resent you for your elevated status. He squeezes your hand then, guiding you softly back to him and away from the worry. 

- Months pass - 

The women tut at you being in the kitchen, again. You shine your brightest smile while skirting around them, piling a small plate high with figs and honeycomb.

“Domina, I beg of you, let us tend to you!” A rather matronly woman who prepared meals and ran the kitchen sighs, defeated yet hopeful.

“Apologies, I could not wait and since I already know my way around—“

“Do not apologize! This is your husband's house, your house! Let us do what we do, go on and tend to him.” She gently, but firmly shoos you out of the kitchen, a smile on her face despite her exhaustion of your antics.

You smile around a bite of fig, the craving for them so strong that you’d found yourself in the kitchen before your own attendant could catch up with you. She follows you, no doubt exasperated until you dismiss her. Your relationship with Marcus has progressed naturally, ordering people around however, still did not come easy.

“Those look delicious.” He smiles, finding you as he comes out of his study.

“They are the best this season I think, I came to share them with you.” You offer a smothered fig to him, feeding him from your own hand and he accepts it happily. Your body comes to life when he licks the honey from your fingers. 

“I think you are right.” He takes another, smaller one from your plate and eats it whole, “I must procure more, you have been really favouring them of late.” He presses a sticky kiss to your mouth, guiding you through your halls to sit in the breezy peristyle.

“I have, more than any other time. I want for nothing else in truth. Nothing else is sitting right at the moment.” You laugh, smiling around another sweet mouthful. 

“I can think of something else, something I would love to cover in honey and devour.” He presses soft kisses to your neck, hand sliding down your arm before palming at your breast through your robes. You wince at his slight grip, and he moves away, frowning.

“Did I hurt you my love?” He searches your expression, worried his strength and desire for you had gotten the better of him.

“No no, I am just a little sore. I think my blood may be upon me, it is a little late.” You kiss his cheek, but his eyebrows raise. For a moment, he is quiet, staring at you and then the plate of figs.

“How late?” His hand drifts lower, landing on your belly and for a moment something inside you clicks, eyes widening in stunned surprise.

“Oh!” You stare down, feeling the way he held you and sudden hot tears spring to your eyes. Your hand presses against his and something huge, something you had not known you held inside bubbles up. “Gods, I do not know!” An almost maniacal laughter escapes through the tears and still, he holds you. 

“I will call for a medicus, we should know for sure but aside from that, how do you feel?” He holds you close, big hand pressed to your womb while the other rubs soothingly at your back. 

“I have no words! I am shocked, and overwhelmed. In truth I do not know, this could be nothing but a little lateness I know, but the cravings have been so strong, the soreness, my eating habits, the desire for you—“ he laughs, good natured. 

“Yes, you have been insatiable of late, much to my delight.” He presses his lips to your temple. “This is something unexpected, but welcome. I am beyond joyful to think you might carry our child even now.” He smiles, his eyes shining with truth.

“I confess I am happy too, I did not think it possible, perhaps the Gods have blessed us, Marcus.” You all but tackle him in a hug, figs forgotten in the warmth of his embrace. 

“I pray it is so.” You whisper into his ear, fear that you may be wrong tinging the edges of your words.

“As do I, but if we are wrong, there is nothing wrong with it just being the two of us.” He pulls away, his hand cupping your cheek to look you in the eye.

“Hear me now my love, nothing will change if we are wrong.” You nod, praying deep in your heart that you aren’t. 

-

The medicus did his examination, and jubilation bloomed throughout the house. At long last, his seed had taken root. 

Never had you seen him so happy, never had you seen him shed a tear and yet he does. He held you as tightly as he could, without causing you pain and cried his joy into your skin. You both shed happy tears, holding each other and basking in the glow of knowing that soon, a child would be born of your love. 

It was still early, and the medicus provided Marcus with a list of precautions, instructions on how to prepare your body for what was to come. He recommended rest, and solutions for the nausea that might afflict you. He gave Marcus oils to rub on your belly as it swelled and suggested foods that were suitable and healthy. He took them seriously, and did as he was told. 

The joy was not to last though. 

The Gods had not blessed you, and your child bled out of you not a week later. 

Marcus did not show it, but you could feel his devastation. The pain in his eyes, to see your lost, heartbroken expression was enough to rival your own. He held fast however, unwavering in his love, solid and stoic while you fell apart in your shared bed. The only soundtrack being your soft cries, and his gentle reassurances. 

Those were the darkest days in your life, the depths of your despair at the grief such a contrast to the joy of carrying his child, the fruit of your union being so unfairly ripped away had left a mark on the both of you.

It also brought you closer together. 

Months passed, and then an entire year, and while exceedingly happy in your union, the loss had awoken a want that you hadn’t felt before. The desire to carry a baby, to see a beautiful child with his eyes, or his hands. To see the both of you on their face, and know that there would never be a child so loved.  

-

The silver in his hair glints in the candlelight as he splashes water on his face, already undressed and prepped for bed. The strength in his arms, the breadth of him, the smooth golden skin you were free to touch and caress taunting you as you lay in your shared bed. Your eyes track errant droplets of water as they slide down the planes of his chest, much like your tongue had done on more than one occasion. 

“Marcus.” 

“Yes my love.” He wipes at his face, blowing out the candles before slipping in beside you. 

“I want us to try to have a child.” Your hands slid across the soft skin of his belly, sliding up to trace the map drawn out by the water. “I know we will need help, but I want to try.”

For a moment he is quiet, pensive and the trauma of what happened fills the space between you, until he pulls you in and presses his lips to your temple. 

“I will find someone to guide us. I will do everything in my power to give you what you desire but I must know that you will be content, should the Gods choose to deny us once more.” His tone is gentle, yet firm. You could see it then, the misery of not accepting the fact that maybe children just were not in your future, it was not fair to either of you to dwell if it did not happen. 

“If the Gods deny us, I will drop the matter. I do not wish for us to suffer, not with how happy you make me.” You tuck your head under his chin, and he holds you tighter still, all of him such a comfort as you have ever known. 

“I pray they reconsider, and that we are successful, but if they do not and for the rest of our days it is just you and I then I am beyond happy. You are all I need.” His lips find yours in the dark, and despite the nerves fraying at the thought of failure, you smile into the kiss. 

-

He wouldn’t tell you how much it cost him to summon the priestess. All he did was smile, wave his hands and say never you mind, no matter how many times you asked him. It had to be considerable, judging by the way her dark halo of hair is adorned in what looks like a crown, by the way her face is painted in gold, her robes dripping in jewels and glass beads. 

Your teeth chew at your bottom lip as she arranges her various bottles and statues of the Gods she served across your table, her attendant placing different bundles of herbs and dried powders within her reach, grinding away at a fine powder in preparation. Marcus sits next to you, his hand in yours as you wait with baited breath. 

She turns to you fully then, coming closer to inspect you. Wordlessly she take your hands within hers, and studies your palms. Next she take Marcus’ hands, and studies the lines she sees there as well. 

“How often do you engage in intercourse?” Her voice is deeper than you thought it would be, soothing and confident. 

“Often. Many times a week.” Marcus answers for you, a furrow of concentration on his brow. 

“And seed has never taken root?” Your gaze follows hers to the acolyte at the table, a nod is exchanged and a pinch of something is added to a bowl, followed by a dark liquid. 

“Once.” It comes out as a croak but you push through, “but the baby was lost soon after.” His hand squeezes yours, reassuring. 

“Have you been with other men?” She gives a sidelong glance at Marcus, unsure whether you will answer truthfully. 

“Yes, before our union. It never resulted in anything.” 

“Then it is the womb we must tend to.” She nods again, a command you cannot parse and more elements are added to the bowl. “We must ask the Gods to reconsider the gift they’ve withheld.” She adds another pinch of something to the bowl while the acolyte moves about the room. 

“Remove your underthings, and lay back. I must inspect the physical form to make sure your body is suitable for the carrying of a child.” She gestures, and you do as she says. Shimmying out of your bottom layers before laying on the chaise, Marcus shifts so that your head rests on his lap. Your heart races as she approaches, spreading your thighs with warm hands. 

Your eyes find his, and his hand holds yours tightly as she does her inspection, uncomfortable and a little awkward, but painless. 

“The vessel is suitable, we will pray Juno accepts our plea.” She dips her hands into a fresh basin of water to cleanse before bringing the bowl to you. A dark, murky liquid swirls within it, smelling of wine and earth, summer rains and overripe fruits. 

“Drink.” She nods, and you do as she says. The taste is slightly bitter, slightly acidic but you swallow every last drop. 

“I pray that Juno has blessed you. You must copulate within the hour, but the body must be honoured.” She speaks directly to Marcus now.

“This is a ritual, you must worship her, as though she is the goddess herself. I will leave anointing oils and a candle with the flame of life. The seed must be in place before the flame goes out.” She takes a candle from her attendant, the shape of it a bit of a shock when it’s placed in your hand. It’s the shape of a man’s cock, smaller than Marcus but impressive nonetheless. 

“We will leave you to it. Use the oils on her skin, on your hands, on every part of you that meets with every part of her...” She raises her eyebrows, saying what she means without being vulgar. 

“Gratitude.” He nods as she gathers her things quickly, leaving you with your heart in your throat, and a flutter in your belly. 

The sun is low in the sky when he guides you to your bed. The candle burns as he gently strips you of your robes, his hands careful, purposeful. A shiver runs through you, crawling down the line of your spine when he gets you down to your skin, naked as the day you were born in the soft golden light. Your hands move to undress him, but he circumvents you, pressing your hands to his lips in quiet denial. 

“You, my love, are to be worshipped. I will do the work.” Love swells inside you for him, just like the arousal flows syrupy thick throughout your limbs. 

Wordlessly he leads you to the bed, arranging you comfortably on your front as he straddles your thighs. The oil is neither hot, nor cold when it hits your lower back. His hands though, they are warm and solid, so big they span wide enough to cover a large swathe of your back at once. You melt into the bed as his hands work the oil in, sweeping from your lower back up to work the knots out of your shoulders, pulling involuntary moans with each pass. 

He stiffens against the swell of your ass, and his hands move towards it as he does. He massages the globes of your backside, his big hands spreading you open for his gaze and it only rockets the arousal higher and higher, your slick pooling at the mouth of your cunt as the oil slips down towards it with every pass. His lips press to your shoulder, as his cock, hot and hard slips along your skin. 

“Turn for me, on your back my love.” 

It’s so hard to move from your place, your body feels like it’s become part of the bed. For a moment, the urge to ask him to take you just like this fills your mouth, but you ignore it and comply. The dying sunlight adorns him in gold and it pulls a smile from your lips, his beauty, his strength, his love shine brighter than the sun itself. 

More oil pours down from the bottle in his hand, pooling in the well of your belly button before he dips in and spreads it across your skin. His eyes focus on his hands, working the oil in soothing circles at your womb before moving up and spreading the warm slip of it over your breasts. 

He focuses there a while, kneading at the pliant flesh, letting it spill between his big fingers, flicking and circling your nipples until they stiffen, hard as pebbles. Your heart races as he pinches and pulls at the peaks of your breasts, the soft moans and liquid arousal slipping out more and more as he continues his thorough worship. 

He moves down, opening your thighs and draping them over his own where they press up against you. He slips between your spread legs, fitting himself in the cradle of your hips. His cock is so heavy it barely bobs, resting hotly on your soaked cunt. His hands slip down your thighs, more oil drips from his fingers onto your skin. From your knees up to where you need him most. 

“Marcus, please-” You whine, so aroused, so wet the ache of it hurts. He tuts softly, a playful, lust blown smile on lips as he cups your cunt with one big hand. “I need you, I need you inside me.” You pout, tilting your hips up into his hand. He lets you, grinding his palm against your core for a moment before he pulls away and then he pours the oil on himself from high on his chest.

It’s like he’s casting a spell, the oil drips down the golden expanse of it towards the dark patch of hair at the base of his cock. 

He rubs the oil across his chest, down over the soft belly and finally lower still, stroking at his cock with ease as he readies himself to love you. He is a weapon, oiled and ready to rut so like the gladiators you’ve seen in the arena, shining and powerful as they prepare to fight for their lives. 

There will be no fight here though, only the wet, open invitation of your cunt as you lift and spread your legs wider, resting your feet on his thighs to make it easier for him, tempt him into finally giving you what you so desperately want; no, need.

More oil drips onto where you gape for him, you bite your lip, eyes flicking towards the candle. Already it had burned half way. 

The slip of his cock against your cunt feels like a blessing from the Gods, and when he slides inside to the hilt, it’s like a homecoming. It is the sight of him triumphant after a battle, it is the early mornings when you rise before him and bask in the sound of his deep, even breaths. It is the feeling of his lips on your shoulder at night, it is the sound of your name in his mouth and devotion in his eyes. 

His big hands hold onto the meat of your hips with a slippery grip as he drives himself forward, filling you just like you want him to. His eyes flit from where he spears into you, up to the way your breasts bounce with every heavy thrust. Never have you felt so beautiful, with the oil shining on your skin, with his hands on you, with his cock deep inside, with the taste of your climax on the tip of your tongue. 

He moves his hand down as if to cup your cunt once more but his fingers trace the lips of your sex to feel you stretched around the girth of him. Your mind buzzes like the wings of a bee to feel how he touches you, fingertips gliding against your swollen little clit, driving you to madness with lust and love for him.

You need him closer. 

You beckon to him with open arms and he falls on you like he’s been knocked down. His mouth claims yours in a messy, vulgar kiss. 

“Fill me Marcus, love me, make me yours.” Your nails curl into his waves, legs gliding around his waist to lock above his backside. Warm, slick skin slipping against warm, slick skin.

“You are mine my love, all mine, and everything I am is yours, all fucking yours—“ he groans, thumb swirling at your clit, around and around and around until you burst like a ripe berry under him. With an obscene moan and a wet squelch, you take him down into the depths of pleasure with you. 

He swells, hard as steel before pulsing spurt after spurt inside you, filling you to the brim. 

He does not move, and neither do you. 

His weight does not bother you, and when he tries to spare you from the heft of him you only dig in your heels. 

“I do not wish to smother you, I am quite bigger-“

“I like it, stay.” You hold on tighter, relishing his huff of laughter before he indulges you. In the almost holy afterglow, nothing could be more important than to be surrounded by him, filled by him. To have his body covering yours, his softening cock inside, his taste in your mouth and his seed deep in your womb.

“I pray that this has worked. That we have honoured the Gods and that they bless us.” He shifts slightly, only enough to look you in the eye. “But if they have not…nothing has changed. I would still be the happiest man in all of Rome, in all the world to share this life with you. Just you.” His words are a warm fan across your face, a warm bath for your heart, a soothing remedy for a nervous belly and you drink them down as such.

The candle is forgotten, the priestess a distant memory, all that matters is him.

You cannot trust your voice, and so you nod. With watery eyes and a trembling smile. You nod. 

-

Tag list: @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi  @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name

[ladytie]

i keep seeing peter in gotham fics (i love them send me more pls) but i cannot stop thinking about if he & nat both got sent to gotham… just stick with me okay!!!

so it would start off with something like:

“a soul for a soul, the price to pay was steep and unrelenting. it was unfair and unforgiving, and yet without hesitation, natasha romanoff flung herself from the side of a cliff. this universe no longer needed the black widow to keep earths mightiest heroes humbled and steady. it squandered it’s soul away the same moment as she did, but perhaps— well maybe there was another place, another world and realm who could use a little soul. maybe, in a city of bats. a couple of spiders would be just what they needed.

because, well… plucking a soul from an infinity stone can’t be too hard. no. not for me. not for the watcher. and while the bats may need natasha romanoff, natasha romanoff needs peter parker. she needs something, someone to fight for and with. for she may have grounded the avengers, but they also grounded her. kept her on the straight and narrow, and peter parker could be just that for her once more. yes,”

the deep timber of a strikingly calm voice echoed in the recess of her mind, she could almost picture who was speaking to her. could almost see the god-like figure in a blue cloak with whitened eyes. and yet? no memory of the man when she had awoken, gasping for air, sucking it in and holding her breath as if it could be stolen from her at any moment, she had no idea how she was wherever the hell she was.

it had taken her approximately ten seconds to come to, catch her bearings and stand up. she was in a darkened alley way. it was dingy and she could hear sirens in the background, and a slight groan from behind her. quick to action she turned, her eyes widening in the slightest of perception when she caught sight of the little spider before her.

his hand was on his head running through his hair and rubbing a sore spot, his eyes still closed but he was clearly awake. she was besides him in a moment, squatting down to help him up. when he felt her hands on his arm, he looked at her, startled and unsure— but certain senses were calm.

“misses black widow ma’am… where are we?” he asked her, his voice was robbed of a certain innocence and the sound almost broke her heart. it was so unsure and confused she had to fight the urge to run her hand through his hair in a comforting way.

“i don’t know, kid” she huffed, helping him to his feet.

“but i’m sure as hell gonna find out,”

—|

the following ensues: nat & peter figuring out their in another dimension. nat seeing child soldier robin and immediately boxing batman assuming he’s a bad guy. peter making the joker cry by making fun of him the way spiderman does. nat stealing cass from batman. tim drake and peter parker friendship. dick grayson looking a lil too much like richard parker. natasha immediately being reverse-adopted by the batkids, as in they claim her as mom. “mom and dad are fighting again” one of them says when nat is yelling at bruce for something “ten buck says mom kicks his ass” “you’re on” “???she’s not ur mom. i’ve actually legally adopted you. betrayers” “you didn’t adopt me. so she can be my mother” “YOURE MY BIOLOGICAL SON” natasha immediately clocking batman is bruce wayne bc of brucie wayne

should i write this??? i feel like i should???? is there someone who would read this????

[haorose]

what do you do think the boys top kinks are?

i was waiting for this oneee 🤭 (may have gotten carried away w some of them oops)

zerobaseone legal line’s top kinks:

jiwoong

biting/marking: mainly chose this bc of the vampire drama he was in 😵‍💫 jiwoong LOOOVES to leave marks all over your body, practically claiming you as his. he loves the little whines you let out when he bites you, smirking against your skin. your noises keep him going, “gotta mark what’s mine, yeah?”

ice play: listen just heart me out,, i’m a firm believer that he’d rather use ice than wax mainly because he would LOVE to see you shiver at the touch. your whimpers and whines from the cool feeling only would make you wetter and of course jiwoong sees that. he’d trail it down your body all the way to your core, stopping on purpose 🥴

zhang hao

fingering: in my opinion, he has the prettiest hands and he KNOWS he has such pretty hands. so when you say with the shyest voice, “i want you to finger me hao,” how could he resist that? he would love to see how much you can take, “think you can take one more, love?” without even realizing, you nodded your head,, a lewd moan releasing from your lips as he now has 3 fingers in you. he’d give you kisses with each thrust, “you’re doing so good for me.”

dollification: he loves his pretty doll and loves ruining his pretty doll. seeing you all dressed up in a short, frilly pink skirt, knee highs, and a bow corset top would have him weak in the knees for you. “fuck baby.. let me ruin you, yeah?” all you could was whine, nodding your head “p-please..” and to that, hao gently took off your clothes, not wanting to rip them since you just look so so cute. he’d definitely go shopping with you, picking out the shortest yet cutest tops and skirts he could find.

hanbin

breath play: i believe in the ‘harddom! hanbin’ agenda so he would definitely love choking you. not to the point it hurts, but just enough to make your panties soaked and begging for him to do something. sometimes you’d reach a hand to hold his wrist, biting your lip as you looked up at him. it would send him over the moon, you look so sexy under him.

pussy spanking: please HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE. he wouldn’t do often, only if you’d been teasing him or pushing his buttons. not that you mind, his hand going right on your clit with every spank. “it’s supposed to be a punishment but you like it so much, huh?” he’d mock your moans and begs, smirking at the way your face flushed and mouth hung open. “such a dirty brat.”

matthew

spanking: okay listen, he is 100% an ass man you cannot tell me otherwise! big or small, flat or large, he does not care! he just loves ass. at any point in time, whether it’s in public, in private, sleeping, eating etc.. , his hand is on your ass. he would LOVE doggy style,, being able to look at your ass, smacking it until his red hand print leaves a mark. he’d kiss it afterwards, maybe leaving some hickeys on it too. if you bend over in front of him, oh best believe you’re being carried to the bed 🥴

over stimulation: he’d only do this with your consent of course, but when you do he can’t get enough of it. the way you beg him to stop, yet your body begs for more of him is enough to get him hard again. “t-too much..” you’d say as you kept fucking into his fingers, your next high approaching. “looks like you still want more, but i can stop.” you shake your head ‘no’, a smirk on his lips as he thrusted his fingers faster.

taerae

edging+begging (f. receiving): we’ve seen how much taerae is a tease and of course that doesn’t stop at you. he wants to hear how bad you want to cum, how bad you want him. “mm i don’t know angel, i think you need to do better than that.” he says with his sweet smile, pulling out as you gripped the sheets. “please taerae! need you so so much, please!” eyes watering from the loss of pleasure, he hummed in amusement. “atta girl, that’s what i wanted to hear.”

dacryphilia: this kind of goes with the last one, he’d love seeing his pretty angel cry for him. when you first started fucking, he got worried when he saw your tears. “did i hurt you angel?” you’d shake your head immediately “n-no, just feels so good.” and from that moment, he loved it.he’d kiss your tears, telling you how well you’re doing for him. “shh baby, it’s okay. you’re doing so good for me.”

ricky

mirrors: he loves looking at his pretty baby all fucked out for him and forcing you to look. if you even dare look away, he’ll tug your hair or grip your chin, forcing you to look back at the mirror “ah, ah, eyes on the mirror, baby. don’t you want to see how good i’m fucking you?” bonus points for when you visit him at the practice room when he’s alone, fucking you in front of the big mirror. even though you don’t say it, you love it so much.

tit play: same as matthew, he doesn’t care if they’re big or small he just loves boobs. especially your boobs. he’d ask to fuck your boobs, to which you said “why not?” not realizing it would become both of your favorite things. he mark all over them, suck your nipples until they’re hard, play with them, anything you can imagine. it’s his favorite place to cum, as if he painted a canvas.

gyuvin

size kink: you can’t look at me and say he doesn’t have a size kink.. this man is so fucking tall. even if you were around his height, he’d still have it because this man is PACKING. he is the perfect length, width, and not to mention it’s just so pretty. the way your pussy swallows his dick sends him in a frenzy, “shit, you can take it all yeah? i know you can.”

blindfold: you both wanted to try something new and he suggested blindfolding. you were a little hesitant at first and he reassured you, kissing your cheek. “we don’t have to, but if you do want to, i promise i’ll go easy, okay?” you ended up giving in thanks to his words, your nerves replaced with excitement and pleasure. you didn’t know what he was going to do and that was enough to send waves of arousal through your body. he loves being able to surprise you with his touch.

gunwook

thigh riding: this man has some nice thighs, so when you suggested that you wanted to ride them, he couldn’t have been more happy. he’d keep a hold on your waist, helping you move back and forth against his thigh. you knew it was going to feel good, but not that good. you’d feel your high quickening, to which he’d move his thigh a bit, leaning back as he watched you. “that’s it darling, make a mess on my thigh.”

cockwarming: this is for when he gets just a little lazy, asking if he can just keep his dick inside you. he loves when you move slightly, letting out a soft groan. though i do think he gets just a teeny bit impatient, slowly fucking into you. being the tease he is, he will stop which would cause you to whimper. “not yet baby, i promise i’ll fuck you soon.”

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Follow me on my delusional rant for a second: we all know that stiles was kinda but not really obsessed with the hale fire yes?? What if he just a tiny bit more obsessed with it and less with Lydia. The sheriff turns a blind eye to this because this was the most lively his son had been since his mother died. The sheriff also can’t figure why this case doesn’t feel right to him, but if anyone can figure it out it’s his son.

He goes on a deep dive about the hales. There comes a point where he can’t access anymore information legally; so he goes to Danny to teach him how to hack. This gets Lydia attention but not enough to get her to help, yet.

So stiles learns and he hacks into the school database, the police, and generally every establishment that the hales have frequented. He finds a pattern of suspiciously missed full moons, high grocery bills the next morning. He finds Paige and Kate. He finds a paper trail to the fire.

He shows it to his dad. With this evidence the sheriff looks into the case. This is what causes Lydia to talk to stiles. She pulls up to his house the very next morning the sheriff reopens the case. She liked Cora and would do anything to get the person who killed her. This cause a deeper dive of obsession. Together they look into the supernatural side of beacon hills. They find Lydia’s grandmother, and Lydia is able to understand what she is before it becomes a problem.

I’m a Stiles and Lydia sibling truther. They become that duo. Just over all becoming the pretty twins of beacon hills.

Lydia gets familiar ties to the stilinskis. Something that she doesn’t get at home. The sheriff loves her, absolutely dotes on her. He’s always wanted a daughter. Stiles becomes far more confident and comfortable in his skin. They have spa days and sleepovers. Stiles lets Lydia practice makeup on him. Lydia has her own room at the Stilinski’s, it becomes a safe haven for her.

They both watch over the sheriffs diet like hawks; fast food places are terrified when the sheriff comes in to order food. “No sheriff, I actually can’t give you a double burger because I’m still traumatized from your kids”. Lydia creates a binder of healthy meals, while stiles cooks them. (Lydia cannot cook)

Stiles comforts her when Jackson is being a dick. Stiles becomes frienimes with Jackson. When Jackson swings by the house the sheriff quietly brings out his gun and cleans it in front of him. Lydia pretends to be embarrassed but she’s absolutely glowing. Jackson also become close with the sheriff, especially after him and Lydia break up. (They were gay and lesbian solidarity)

With the amount of digging Stiles and Lydia did they would have figured out Peter was being poisoned. I also believe that they would have found Cora was still alive. This brings Laura and Derek back to beacon hills, starting the rise of the hale pack.

Like imagine season one Derek meeting confident stiles with lipstick. Your honour it’s over for him.

Derek still becomes an alpha after the alpha pack comes and he kills one of them. (I’m also a Alpha Derek hale truther)

Stiles and Lydia are both “little reds”

Derek and Cora being super fucking cocky that they’re mated to the pretty twins of beacon hills

The sheriff also cleans his gun in front of Derek and Cora. He’ll be damned doesn’t get to pull the protective father for his kids.

Anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk

[jointherebellion215]

His Kiss, The Riot

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: When you and your secret lover make plain to Feyd-Rautha your wishes for a life together, despite the proposed arranged marriage, he surprisingly acquiesces. But he can't let you go so easily, can he? Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: manipulation, Dark!Feyd-Rautha, arranged marriage, NONCON elements, gore, violence, she/her pronouns, female!reader, tragedy, star-crossed lovers, songfic, not quite a happy ending (oops), dark dark dark interpretations of Hadestown and the story of Orpheus and Eurydice.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read If It's True and liked, reblogged, or commented. I appreciate every single one of you. As always, I would love some feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs if you can :)

This is Part Two to my Feydestown trilogy (I'm so sorry for the pun). You can read Part One here.

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

The devil takes this Orpheus

And his belladonna kiss

“So you wanna get married? Take away the woman I just offered my hand to, to whom I all but have legal claim?”

Your beloved’s replied words of affirmation to his words hold the slightest tremor, but like a dog to fresh meat, Feyd-Rautha sniffs this out immediately. Another smile graces his face. Feyd speaks to the crowd now, “Yes, I was promised the Lady’s hand in marriage. But! I am a benevolent figure, so I guess I’ll let the lovebirds go.”

The crowd starts to give polite applause, while your knees grow weak at the news. You can go? Has love really prevailed on this day?

“However,” and with that, your heart drops “I have some conditions for these… nuptials.”

You could sense the air growing thick with tension as the reality of the na-Baron’s ruling twists out of your favor.

“Conditions?” You whispered.

“Of course, my darling! I can’t make this too easy on you, now can I?” Feyd paces back and forth on the steps from which he speaks, making your eyes dart back and forth with each step he takes. Vigilance overtakes your body in case of any rash decisions.

“You two can leave the city, but it won’t be hand in hand. This pair will have to walk in single file, with the boy in the front and my darling Lady at least thirty paces behind. No ships, no speeders, no running. Walking.”

The energy of the room starts to grow more electric as the points of this term seem to set in.

“The Lady cannot speak out or make any indication of her following behind. You’ll be faced forward the whole journey. Once you reach the edge of the city and passed the threshold, you can be together for eternity.”

Your breath hitched. Seems easy enough, right?

“But, if the boy so much as turns his head to check and see if the Lady is following, the deal is off. She’ll return to me, and we will be married.”

Nothing makes a man so bold

As a woman’s smile and a hand to hold

“Is this a trick?” Your beloved asks plainly.

Feyd tilts his head, pacing down the steps to ground level. “Now, what makes you say that? I’m being generous. I’ve set my terms.” He is now nose-to-nose with the man attached to you. 

“Now meet them or face the consequences.”

The hand holding yours is now pooled with sweat. You quickly and subtly jerk the arm of your beloved when he starts to protest, not recognizing a gift when he sees one. You bow, the picture of poise and grace that you were raised to be. There is still time to leave with all of your limbs intact, you could not afford to slip up now.

“We offer our most sincere gratitude, my Lord na-Baron. Thank you for this most auspicious opportunity. We will not squander it.” 

Your beloved gives a clumsy bow to match yours. Feyd’s manic smile grows as he clasps his hands together. The sound echoes through the hall.

“So it shall begin!” 

But all alone his blood runs thin

And doubt—doubt comes in

The pair of you hold hands, side-by-side, at the entrance of the palace gates. A crowd has followed you to the edge, with onlookers from the outside spectating the unexpected appearance of a noble. Occurrences like this did not happen often, if ever.

“You heard the terms. The Lady must walk thirty steps behind. She must not speak to you.” Your hands reluctantly separate, following the orders you were given. You can feel your heart pounding with each step that you take away from each other.

“Some of my guard will accompany you, to ensure that you comply to the letter.” Four Harkonnen warriors step forward and encase you in a square formation, leaving the love of your life alone and vulnerable. He looks back towards you, fear and doubt creeping into his eyes. You nodded at him, believing that you could succeed in your task. That you would prevail.

“You may begin.” Feyd voices, and with that—you start your journey. Step by step, you walk further through the foliage that immediately surrounds the castle gates and into the city square.

Once you and your beloved reach the horizon, Feyd turns to walk past the crowd and back into the corridor.

Your father, the Duke, bows quickly and offers his gratitude, but is ignored as the younger Harkonnen goes to gather his blade and shield. With a yell, he summons his guards to formation. As Feyd checks the integrity of his weapon, one of the Baron’s advisors tentatively steps towards him.

“My Lord, perhaps you should consider letting them go—” In the blink of an eye, the man is silenced with a swift slash to the throat. Blood spills through the advisor’s hands as he struggles to put pressure on the opening. His body flops to the floor and Feyd carelessly steps over the writhing body to march forward.

“Let’s go fetch my bride.”

Dangerous this jack of hearts

It had been almost an hour of walking by this point. There had been almost a dozen times where you wanted to give any audible indication to your lover that you were here. A whisper, a whistle, a stomp of your foot. Anything. But now you could see the edge of the city, you could almost taste it. 

A life with your love was within reach. 

The guards accompanying you shifted inward, almost boxing you in. You were hopeful, but nerves were creeping in.

This was going well. Too well.

The grand arch signifying the edge of the city was above your lover now. The field that you used to meet at in secret lay just beyond it. You’re almost there. Just twenty more steps and you could be together, forever. 

He steps over the threshold, you see his shoulders lift and fall in an exhale. Then, the man you had fallen in love with— who you wholly believe in— slowly turns his head to lock eyes with you. A pale figure steps out from behind a pillar accompanying the arch.

The growing smile on your face immediately falls. You call out his name.

Oh no. 

The na-Baron tsked and shook his head, as if scolding a child. Harkonnen troops flanked the area, giving Feyd-Rautha enough berth to have his fun. The three of you were surrounded, but only one really had the advantage.

“You were so close!”

Your beloved held out a hand, “Wait, wait! I made it over!” He started to back away in fear, unarmed and exhausted from the long walk. Colorful, ripe foliage brushed his legs as he back into your field.

“Ah, but she didn’t. So, face the consequences.”

Then his blade pierced the man you love. 

Your ears started to ring, throat working itself raw as you wailed. Tears blurred your vision, you could hear the gurgles of the blood leaving your fiancé’s mouth and the slosh of his newly disemboweled entrails hitting the lush field before you.

With his kiss, the riot starts

His body made a sick thud on the floor, and your body jumped along with it. 

You ran towards your dead lover, cradling his face and sobbing for the soul that was just ripped away from you. He didn’t deserve such a violent end. His only crime was loving you and being loved in return.

A chuckle sounded from above you, and you turned your tear-stained face to the brutal Harkonnen. He was covered in the blood of your lover, his spoils of war staining his pale skin. Black teeth on full display, his shoulders gave a slight shake as he expressed his humor. His laughter sparked a rage in you like you’d never seen before. It didn’t matter what bonds you may or may not have formed over the conversations you had the last week. He’s a monster. He needs to pay for what he’s done. 

Red flooded your vision.

With a roar, you lunged for the man. His laugh grew more manic as you smacked, punched, kicked, and hit every visible part of him that you could identify. In your grief, every ounce of training that you received flew out the window. He took every blow with a smile, as if he enjoyed the punishment you were attempting to bestow on him.

“There we go, my darling. Show me your pain. Your rage!”

Your mind started to clear with the more hits you landed. With a quick swipe, you had the weapon that killed your beloved against the naBaron’s neck. The Harkonnen soldiers immediately stepped forward, but Feyd stopped them with a wave of his arm.

“Ah ah ah! Leave her be.” His grin almost split his face in half, specks of dried blood making a painting of his face. 

“Do it. Go ahead, come on.”

He pressed his neck forward, purposefully putting pressure on his own blade. Fresh blood started to trickle down his neck, adding to the gallons already spread all over his uniform. 

The shock of his willingness to put his life on the line made you hesitate, which made him cackle in your face. Your anger made you draw the blade back and slice it across his chest. A groan left Feyd’s mouth, 

“Good girl.”

An unexpected thunk to the head made your vision start to spin. Feyd’s arms braced around you, slowly lowering you to your knees and down to a lying position. He cradled your head as if you were a precious commodity, when he leaned forward and captured your limp lips with his. 

As black started swallowing your vision, you heard him say,

“Don’t worry, my darling bride. It’ll all be alright. You won’t feel a thing.”

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

dick grayson figure skating hcs

i swear i wasn’t searching for any skater specifically but what am i supposed to do, look at yuzuru hanyu and not use the pic?

ft mostly men’s singles but there’s bonus dick x reader pairs at the end

we’ve talked about dick grayson going to the olympics for gymnastics

what probably happened was the batfam got together and decided to watch the summer olympics and we got to pommel horse guy

and jason made some comment about how that guy’s basically just a better dick

and he took that personally

so of course he’s already calling up the us gymnastics team because what is the point of being bruce wayne’s son if you don’t have the most random connections ever (and they were probably already begging him to join anyways)

but 4 years is a long time to wait, so in the meantime, he decides to work on competing in the winter olympics too

and he just so happens to be a figure skating prodigy bc ofc he is (bruce signs them up for a lot of extracurriculars so all of the bat kids are weirdly good at random stuff)

ooooh this means that he’d be good at ballet too which pisses me off

he’s kinda like nathan chen in the sense that this guy is good at too many things and my asian parents would unfortunately love him

anyways! back on topic

unfortunately brian orser cannot be flown out to gotham every day (if you don’t know who he is, he is simply the goat i don’t make the rules) so dick probably has a different coach for day to day training

but he went to intensives a couple of times a year growing up

he kinda stopped when the titans and nightwing stuff got to be too much to handle but the two of them still keep in touch and brian’s like i can’t believe my star pupil is wasting his talents being a cop, why is he not on the ice

so you KNOW as soon as the olympics idea comes up dick’s calling brian up and bro sheds tears when he gets the call

he already had the routines planned out and the songs picked because he keeps on getting ideas and being like this is so dick grayson coded (with the same energy as somebody writing headcanons i imagine)

guys hear me out, fun jazzy short

like he gets the crowd to clap along and he just has the brightest smile on his face the whole time

yes i am thinking about kagiyama yuma’s song choice at the beijing olympics. and honestly his outfit too but i’m imagining dick’s is a brighter blue

and you think it’s all fun and games

AND HE PULLS OUT THE CLEANEST 3A + 1EU + 4L KNOWN TO MAN

and ofc he can do a quad axel who is surprised

lives were changed with the short 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

alsoooooo the ISU legalized backflips now and you know dick is gonna do one of those

ACTUALLY if you guys have ever seen malinin's raspberry twist

are we seeing the vision guys

i feel like he would choose something more emotional for his free (gotta get those performance points)

if nobody is bawling by the end of his program then i am dead

i selfishly want him to skate to yuri on ice (like the actual piece, although i can make a whole list of yuri on ice songs i think would suit him) but i don't know if he's a weeb like that

as a dancer, i feel like step sequences is where i'm the least impressed

he would not disappoint though, like everything's so clean? and so emotive?

i feel like he was built for the biellmann, especially the hyperextended and no i'm not taking notes

THE PRETTIEST OUTFITS EVER

if anybody wants to draw fanart of dick in yuzuru hanyu's skating costumes haha

at the end of his program he's going to point towards his family and bow to them ofc

butttttt he may or may not send a particularly smug look in jason's direction

and the wide grin that he has on his face when he's announced the winner is made even wider because he knows that jason's in the stands gnashing his teeth

bonus: fanfic idea? dick x reader pairs event where they grew up skating together

they had crushes on each other but never said anything

they get into a fight because dick wants to quit

but then a few years later he’s like haha wanna compete together?

and reader thinks he’s not taking this seriously and is still mad at him for leaving but brian’s like great! welcome back dick so obviously they’re stuck together now

and of course they have a very…interesting program (tumblr is not letting me add the link but just search up the tessa virtue and scott moir moulin rouge perfrormance)

at first it’s super awkward, dick’s like not even super sure why she’s still acting weird around him, they continue to butt heads

and it all culminates in their free, when they realize that these emotions aren’t just for performance points but actually genuine??

AND THEN THEY KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE

okay that’s all!

i ended up writing it lol

[nymphomatique]

special affair

dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

art credit: _insomniac_red_ on ig. pictures are for mood setting, reader has no specific race or physical descriptions.

cw: a lil angsty, this is just shameless smut im sorry guys i don’t know what came over me, daddy kink, dbf!miguel <3, unspecified age gap but reader is legal, rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex, miguel is not a good man, conflicted reader, creampie, lowkey breeding kink, degrading language, choking/breath play, face slapping, spitting, mentions of oral (m), overstimulation, crying/dacryphillia, pubic hair grinding? lmao idk, reader is alluded to being in sub space. not proofread lol. 18+ only.

wc: ~1.5k

❤︎ an: hi my loves!! this is a sorta part two to this drabble, but can be read as a stand alone one shot. tbh i wrote this w my pussy.. i’m ovulating rn i’m so ashamed of myself 😔 nevertheless, enjoy! if you guys want more don’t hesitate to lmk!!

from that first night he fucked you from behind, you knew you strayed too far from the status quo in your life, you’re at the point of no return. that night, when he finished pounding you from behind and defiling you further with his seed all over your back and ass, you had laid in that position— spent and on your stomach- for the rest of the night, silently sobbing. you had betrayed your father, that much you were aware of the day you started rubbing at yourself meekly in the dead of the night thinking about his best friend.

you had long come to terms with that guilt, accepting whatever image of a burning inferno there is in the afterlife. what you cannot come to terms with, is the fact that he- miguel- had actually fucked you, indulged in what you considered your own taboo thoughts, ripping them from page and making your crude thoughts a sick reality. the worst part of this all is that amidst it all, the mental beratement, the nights you spent crying, the sick feeling the memories of miguel’s cock stretching you absolutely thin, showing you a climax like no other— you want to hate yourself for it, for being weak. for being such a bad girl. but you didn’t know why your body decided to betray your brain, the physical craving for the older man’s body possessing you whole. you can’t bear this feeling, holding it up inside you and trying to keep it at bay. fuck- you needed to talk to someone, you had to, even if it’s the last person you want to speak to.

nevertheless, you end up two houses down, sniffling and heaving in the dead of the night, knocking the door as hard as your trembling hands would let you. the door swings open and at the sight of him you keen, your body aching at the sight of the burly muscles covered in sun kissed skin. dark brown hair streaked with grey at the temples. a slight five o’clock shadow, he must not have shaved this morning. and then you look into those eyes, swallowing you up whole and you begin to tear up again. miguel is silent, leaning against the door with messy hair, glazed eyes and clad in boxers, and boxers only. fuck, you shouldn’t have come here.

“I-.. Miguel, it hurts,” you sob quietly, aflame with shame and embarrassment at how little resolve you had. He grabs your face with his warm hands and you’re trembling now, ready for him. your lips ghost for a moment before he breathes out. “i’m not a good man, sweetheart. if you don’t say no, i’m gonna break you.” he sounds sincere with his words and his eyes go stern. you wish you had some self of self control, or maybe having better discernment. but the only thing you say to him only confirms what you already knew about yourself; you’re a terrible fucking person. 

“violate me.”

your lips are smashed against each other, tongues dancing and it feels so good to be in his embrace again. your tears fall down your cheeks, meeting at the junction of your mouths in a pool of saliva. miguel groans and you know why, remembering what he had said to you the last time.

“i like when you cry.”

you’re grabbed up at the hips, legs wrapped around a thick torso, pressed up against a firm chest and a heavy cock. the moments up to the bedroom are cloudy, drunk off his lips against yours. you come to slightly when cold plush sheets hit your back and a pair of lips leave yours. you whine, yearning for his touch again. he looks down at you, bringing your right foot to his mouth, he licks lightly up the sole- kissing the ball of your foot before he leans down, caging your between his elbows, face to face.

“you gonna be good for your daddy?” he asks softly, kissing between the bridge of your nose once. 

“y-yes,” you breathe out with a slow nod. 

“mmm. gonna let me violate this tight little body too?” he asks, still soft in tone and you think you’re gonna go crazy by the end of the night. “yes, daddy,” you murmur, lost in his eyes. 

“sick fucking little girl. but that’s how i like it,” he chuckles, kissing you softly before getting up stripping you bare.

“letting your daddy undress you like a good girl. so obedient f’me,” he coos at you, touching you softly and you’re almost in tears. you need him. and you let it be known. a lone tear falls down your cheek and you mewl, “n-need you to make it better down there, daddy.”

his large hand engulfs you cheek, thumb wiping your tear softly before squishing your face, putting his tear stained thumb in your mouth. “you think you’re a big girl now, hmm? telling your daddy what to do?” you look up at him teary eyed, suckling his thick finger.

“you take what i give you, when i give it to you.” he squeezes you cheek a little harder before softly slapping your cheek and you squeak at the contact. a rough laugh leaves miguel’s mouth at your reaction. “you have no idea how bad i’m gonna treat you, baby.”

you’re non verbal at this point, mouth agape and leaking saliva down your jaw seeping into the sheets and the junction of your neck and chest. a hand slaps your cheek again, you’ve lost how many that is now. “i fucked you stupid already?” miguel laughs, hard thrusts sending you flying up the bed. his hands on your hips bring you down back to him each time, poking you right in that sweet spot in your pussy. you’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve head, body wracked and numb with pleasure. throat hoarse from the near-violent throat fuck he gave you.

a glob of spit hits your forehead and you groan a bit. the one thing you’re sure of is that you look a goddamned mess. a crude picture of the activity you’ve been partaking in for the past two hours. a hand leaves your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze roughly, making you gasp for air, your body finally moving.

“there we go, got you moving now. thought i fucked you to sleep for a second.” 

your eyes are glossy, at the lack of air and building pressure. your hand meekly wraps around his wrist as he fucks into you. you know you shouldn’t like the way he toys with you like this, waking the line of torment and pleasure with no care in the world. but you do. and you can’t deny it anymore.

“you’re tightening up on me again. you gonna cum for me again?” miguel asks you, and he laughs after knowing you can’t even answer him. “sick little girl. you like it when i choke you? make you feel weak? worthless?” 

it’s barely audible, but the moan you let out vibrates in your neck and miguel can feel it with the hand pressed against your throat. he throws his head back with a groan. “nasty, naughty girl. fuck baby, gonna cum in that little pussy.”

you’re almost there, and quite frankly impressed that you haven’t fully passed out yet. your head feels light, and you begin to tremble violently, gushing out spurts of liquid as your head falls to the side. if this is hell, you’re not so sure you could give this up for heaven. your eyes close and you feel so close to falling asleep when he removes his hand from your neck, grabbing your head by the nape of your neck, craning you up to where you can see his thick cock slip and slide between your thighs. you groan at the image. 

“need you awake to see me cum in you, don’t i?” miguel groans. “you like watching me fuck you, like letting me dirty you.”

 his tuft of black pubic hair rubs against yours as his thrusts become increasingly sporadic and intense, and it has you trembling at the stimulation it gives your clit. you weakly squirt each time his pelvis brushes against your clit, your body letting you know you have only so much left in you before you’re drained empty.

“fuck, love it when you wet the bed. my pissy little girl. daddy loves the messes you make.” he’s nearly breathless and you pray he’s going to cum in the next minute, the ache in your neck and dull sensation in your pussy building slowly.

“c-cum in me. wanna give you a baby,” you moan, looking up from the fast thrusts and into miguel’s eyes. 

“fuck! so n-naughty, baby. gonna give me another one, huh? fucking take it, then.” with a final thrust, you feel the warmth of his cum shoot and blossom somewhere deep within you. you moan weakly, one final weak spurt of squirt coming out of you. miguel pulls out and you watch him look at the mess he made of you and your pussy, covered in spit, cum and the beginnings of handprint bruises blossoming on your hips and ass from how hard he gripped and spanked you. 

you can feel his cum slowly trickle out of you, and your body feels like it’s no longer your own. after so many orgasms, your limbs are on fire, and you can do nothing but breathe and weakly murmur a “d-daddy..” while your eyes close.

tags: @realhotgirlshitah @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @maxiethestrange

message me to be removed!

[octopiys]

Some incorrect quotes and scenes for the pies

Roach: *Screams*

Ghost: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Capt. MacTavish: Should we do something?

Capt. Price: No, I want to see who wins.

-

Alejandro: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Valeria: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Alejandro: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING RODOLFO WITH ME

Rodolfo, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Price: You know, not every problem can be solved with a knife.

Ghost: That's why I carry two knives.

-

Soap: I made tea.

Ghost: I don’t want tea.

Soap: ....I did not make tea for you. This is my tea.

Ghost: Then why are you telling me?

Soap: It is a conversation starter.

Ghost: That’s a lousy conversation starter.

Soap: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

-

Gaz: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming

Price, putting his head in his hands: Does anyone in this goddamn team ever think before they speak-

-

Graves: Must be hard not being able to laugh

Alejandro: I do have a sense of humor you know

Graves: I’ve never heard you laugh before

Alejandro: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

Graves:

Graves: fuck you

Alejandro: fuck you

-

Soap, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo.

Ghost:

Ghost: is it because I said I didn't want your tea-

Soap: YES ITS BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT MY TEA

-

Ghost: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

Gaz, just finding out that Ghost is legally dead:

-

Gaz: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Price: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Soap: Three of us saw it, Cap. How do you explain that?

Price: *points at Soap* Sleep deprivation. *points at König* Paranoia. *points at Ghost* Delusional personality disorder.

Gaz:

Gaz: damn.

-

Roze: What’s something you guys are better than Horangi at?

Hutch: Mario Kart.

O'Conor: Yeah, video games.

König: Emotional vulnerability

-

Graves: *Gets down on one knee*

Alejandro: Oh my god, it’s finally happening.

Graves: *Falls over*

Alejandro: The poison is kicking in.

-

Gaz, after falling out of a heli for the third time: Do you take constructive criticism?

Nikolai: I only take cash or credit.

-

Soap: Can you keep a secret?

Ghost: Do you know anything about my life?

Soap: No I do not. Good point.

-

Gaz: Hey heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this haha-

Roach: What did you-?

Gaz: A MISTAKE WAS MADE

-

-

I just wanna say thank you all sm for 300 followers! You all r loved and I'm not good with responses but I appreciate them all so muck, thank u again :DDDDD

[trippinsorrows]

trials of love + two

authors note: friendly, gentle reminder that while drunk hookups are popular in today's culture, inebriation prohibits consent as someone cannot legally consent when intoxicated.

also.....this shit about to be messy as hell.

one

warnings: angst, inebriation, slight spice, and intoxication impairing judgment/consent

words: 3.7k

****gif credit goes to my chica @dejameflorecer

song inspo: evermore by josh groban

“She’s missing.” 

It’s the first thing Roman hears when he walks into the sanctuary. Nervous, frantic, rapid voices exchanging dialogue in hushed tones, some not so hushed. And because he’s him, it’s not difficult for Roman to catch onto what has everyone so worked up, his mother looking irritated and his father pissed. 

Not that he gives a shit about that.

He partially, however, gives a shit that she is, in fact, missing.

Solana.

His wife-to-be.

Apparently, she’s nowhere to be found on the property, an unfortunate and stressful thing for almost everyone it seems, sans one person.

She sits calmly in one of the pews, a crossword puzzle across her lap, the most relaxed expression on her face. It’s a stark contrast to the pandemonium surrounding them, which also includes Jey and Nicki on the other side of the church arguing, and Jimmy trying to get the caterers to let him “sample” the food. 

Roman shakes his head. 

Some things never change.

Strolling over to the older woman, Roman moves to sit in front of her, angling her body so he’s facing her, forearm across the top of the pew. 

She looks up, and it’s only then he realizes Solana inherited her eyes from her grandmother. 

“Roman,” she says it so formally, so casually, an introduction of sorts that’s followed by her refocusing back on the task at hand.

He chuckles. She reminds him a lot of Fetu.

They’ll either get along great, or it’s going to be clash of the fucking titans. 

“You know where she is, don’t you?” It’s not a question. Just a statement he’s waiting for her to confirm or deny.

Light brown eyes briefly dart up only to return back down under. “I know my granddaughter has always loved the ocean and often goes to the beach when she needs to think or clear her head.”

Roman offers a small smile. 

Yeah, a lot like Fetu.

“Thank you,” he says with a small nod.

She lifts her brow and shrugs once more. “I didn’t say anything.”

Roman doesn’t say anything either and manages to walk out of the chaos without anyone stopping him, not that he really cares. 

He just needs to find his bride, or rather, he’d prefer to be the one to find her for reasons he can’t quite explain or provide.

Just knows that it would make him feel better, or something, to bring her back.

Whatever that means.

He locates her exactly where her grandma “told” him she would be. On the beach, standing close enough to the tide where the water brushes against her bare feet. Her back toward him, arms crossed over her body, Roman approaches her, only inches away when she finally notices him.

Gasping, she jumps back a bit, eyes focused on him. It’s only then Roman can see it. See that she’s crying.

He frowns.

There’s something….something off about that that he doesn’t like. 

That doesn’t sit well with him.

“Roman….” Her voice is so soft and soothing, but there’s a sadness about it that also bothers him. “I’m—I’m sorry.” She wipes at her eyes and shakes her head. “I just—I wasn’t leaving. I just—”

“Solana,” he interrupts in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. “It’s fine.” Because if he wasn’t in a foreign country, he’d have probably done the same. Her…..dissatisfaction with this union is a mutually shared thing. “I know you weren’t.”

She nods, something like appreciation flashing across her pretty face. He’s briefly taken back. While marriage is the last thing Roman wants, to be married to someone like Solana isn’t a hard sell. Not only does she have the kind of body he could spend an eternity studying and worshipping, she’s absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word.

Has a kind, caring spirit about her that's unlike anything he's used to.

But, it's something he feels like he could most definitely get used to.

Feeling himself staring, Roman motions to the ocean. He needs a distraction. “It’s beautiful.”

She follows his line of vision, smile growing. “It is.” Solana sighs, obviously taking it all in. “I’m—I’m gonna miss it.”

Roman’s expression shifts into something almost regretful.

Like, he regrets even putting her in this situation.

"Solana...." He strokes his beard, navigating how to explain himself. “For you to return back home so soon after the wedding would…..it wouldn’t be a good look.” He’s careful in the way he approaches this, a caution that’s a bit unfamiliar. Roman has never been one to choose his words carefully, unless in life or death situations. “But, after a few months pass, you can visit whenever you want.”

She turns toward him, eyes wide and hopeful. “R—really?”

Roman nods. “Yes.” 

Because while Roman can count on one hand how many family members he’d miss if separated from them for some reason, he can see that’s not the case for her. Solana seems deeply attached and close with all of her family, especially her sisters, Isabella and Zuri, connected with her home. 

And it’s that separation that she’s clearly struggling with the most, so the least he can do is provide her some assurance that being apart isn’t a forever thing.

He’d probably prefer for her to come visit more often than not. Gives him some much needed alone time. Roman has never lived with another person before as an adult. Let alone a woman. Let alone a woman who’s his wife, so that might take….an adjustment, to say the least.

He'd bet the watering of her eyes is for an entirely different reason now. “Thank you.” She sounds so grateful, so appreciative, so relieved. 

It’s hard for him to not be moved by it, even if it is completely unlike him to be move.

To feel. 

It’s uncomfortable as shit too, prompting him to clear his throat and gesture toward the opposite side of the ocean. “You ready?”

She nods, taking one last look at the water before turning to walk, clearly tripping over something in the sand. One minute, she’s about to fall, the next, Roman is in front of her, shielding said fall.

They stare at each other, her head lifted, gaze on him, hands on his chest, his on her waist, holding her up.

“S–sorry,” she apologizes in that same small voice, but for some reason, he can only focus on the aroma of her sweet perfume, the feel of her body so close to his, the alluring hue of her pretty brown eyes.

“It’s fine,” he says, distractedly. He’s still staring at her the same way she’s staring at him. One of them, he doesn't know who, finally breaks it, moving so that they can walk off.  He’s also unsure just who reaches for whose hand. Just knows that their hands are interlocked as they walk away from the present and prepare to head into the future.

Their future. 

-----------

Solana has always been a dreamer. Always lived with her “head in the clouds.” Something told to her from practically every family member, starting with her abuela, all the way to her adorable five year-old niece, Sophia. 

It’s something she’s never really denied, either. She knows she’s always been one to hope and aspire for the most, the best, even when told it might never happen. But, it’s never bothered her. Not really. Not when her life has always been filled with so much love, happiness, and fulfillment.

A wonderful family. Great friends. The honor of taking over her abuela’s bakery. An establishment that’s been in her family for generations.

The only thing missing has been love. 

Not familial. Not platonic. Romantic.

She’s dated, had relationships, and all of the above. And nothing ever moved her, ever left her feel the beautiful love she’s always witnessed with her parents. And her oldest sister, Zuri, has always advised her that her expectations are too high, too aligned with “Disney shit." Isabella has always told her to never settle. Her parents have always said she’ll know when she’s found the one. And Solana has always taken a bit of all of their advice, never once giving up her dream of finding “true love.” Of finding the man who would, maybe even literally, swipe her off her feet. 

The dreamlike courting, romantic proposal, perfect wedding, intimate wedding night where she’d finally lose her virginity to the man who’d one day be the father of her children. The perfect ending to a wonderful life.

A fucking lie.

Solana stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, a reflection she once appreciated, maybe not always loved, but liked well enough. Now though, now, she doesn’t even recognize what she sees. Who she sees.

She’s always been happy and joyful, but there’s nothing happy about the puffiness and redness around her eyes. The way her lips are in a permanent frown that’s been present for the past few days. She looks every bit as sad and miserable as she feels.

And, it’s all because of one man. 

Roman Reigns.

Her husband.

The man she hates more than she’s ever hated anyone before in her life.

She’d never heard anything nice about him, heard that he was a heartless bastard. But, in meeting him shortly before their wedding, in interacting with him on a few occasions, he’d been…..okay. Not overtly nice but nothing like the asshole he’s been since….since that night.

The night…..

Solana sniffles, feeling and seeing the watering of her eyes. That’s got her more fucked up than anything else. She always dreamed her wedding night, her first time, would be a beautiful thing. And, it was. Roman was…...he was kind to her, gentle with her, good to her.

And, then she woke up.

Because everything since that night has been nothing short of a nightmare.

Roman isn’t her knight in shining armor. 

He’s the demon in her dreams.

A demon she can’t escape.

Dulce’s quiet snoring in her room, a random room she’s commandeered and made her own, moving all of her stuff into it from Roman’s the second day of his MIA episode. Solana smiles. Seeing and having her sweet dog with her was definitely something she could have never guessed happening.

Could have never anticipated waking up and finding her baby girl in a crate being held by Roman's Wise Man, Dulce nearly losing her shit, same with Solana, in seeing her mother for the first time in too long.

Solana can still recall the physical pain she felt when she was informed Roman doesn't like pets, and that she had to leave Dulce home in Mexico with her family. It practically killed her. Made this whole thing so much worse. 

Dulce, a tiny little thing, is hands down Solana’s best friend. They’ve been connected since the moment Solana held the Pomeranian four years prior. She’s been there for her during the best and worst of times, so not having her for, inarguably, the worst thing she’s ever been through in life has been torture. 

Truth be told, Solana hasn’t the slightest clue why Roman changed his mind, what made him make arrangements to have Dulce brought to her, and while she’s beyond grateful to have at least someone in that house, she couldn’t bring herself to thank him.

For what?

What has he done to deserve thanks? Letting her have her pet is only a common decency. The latter word being something foreign to him, clearly.

Because Roman is every bit the bastard she heard about. She only wishes she wasn’t stupid enough before to believe he could be anything different. 

But, she’s learned her lesson.

Learned to heed to his words.

This isn’t a real marriage. It doesn't mean anything to him. She doesn’t mean anything to him. 

So, he doesn't mean anything to her.

And, he never will. 

He isn’t home, but that’s not surprising. He’s never home. Her now preference.

As much space away from him that she can manage is for the best. 

Not to mention, it allows her to prepare for her night without his intrusions or thoughts of how he’d respond or even feel. A stupid thing, really. Especially considering he made it painfully clear that he doesn’t care what or who she does. 

Bet.

Solana takes the red lipstick, applying it to her lips, the last and final step of a makeup routine that took much longer than what was probably necessary. But, the end product seems worth it. Dark, sultry eyes, highlighted and blushed cheeks, with blood red lipstick to match her red dress that shows more of her breast than most of her bikini tops. Her ass is only one bend away from being exposed, the body of it nice and tight, hugging all her generous curves.. It’s a look she’d not even wear in her dreams, far too risque and revealing, but it’s exactly what she’s wearing tonight. 

Because she just doesn’t care anymore. 

If Roman can do whatever he wants, then so can she. 

Spraying perfume on her pulse points and on her dress, Solana takes a final look at herself in the mirror before hitting the lights and grabbing her small Gucci bag off the counter. 

Walking in heels has always been a bit difficult for her, but the heels complete the look, so it’s one of many sacrifices she’s willing to make tonight. 

Solana cuddles with Dulce for a few minutes, making sure she’s straight and instructing the security that patrol the house to check on her baby every so often.

She’s not certain she’ll make it home tonight.

And speaking of home, Solana turns the hall and meets Dre’s always watchful gaze. She doesn’t miss the way he gives her a double take. The same way she gives him one.

Her head of security isn’t ugly by any means. Tall with a nice, lean but muscular build, pretty light eyes and almost model-like facial features. He looks more like the type to be in Vogue versus being assigned the head of her security detail. On the quiet side, too, only having only said a few words to her.

But, the way he’s looking at her now suggests she might be able to evoke a couple more words out of him. At least, for tonight.

“I want to go out,” she informs, crossing her arms over her body.  “A nightclub. Whatever is most popular in this town.”

Dre lifts a brow. “Mrs. Reigns—”

“Solana,” she corrects. “My name is Solana.” 

“Solana.” There’s almost something suggestive about the way he says it. A way she both likes and dislikes. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” Solana scowls, already knowing she’s not going to like what he says. “With The Tribal Chief being out of town—”

“I said—” Solana steps forward, head tilted, again not missing how Dre’s eyes drop to her chest. “I want to go out.” Mustering a small smile and batted eyelashes, she tilts her head and innocently places her hands on his chest. “Now, let’s go.”

—--------

It’s all so loud and borderline suffocating. The music booms, the people move and grind together with a familiarity that contrasts the fact that most of them only met just this night. A situation she too, ironically, finds herself in, because Solana hasn’t the slightest clue who she’s dancing with. Just knows that he’s only a couple inches taller than her, even in her heels, and he can’t seem to keep his hands off her ass.

And if not for the liquor coursing through her body, it’s something she’d be uncomfortable with. She partially is but not enough to stop, to tell him to leave her alone. This is what she needs. To let loose, to not give a fuck. 

To be less like herself and more like him.

Because being Solana, being kind and sweet and understanding, got her nowhere but broken heart city, and she’s tired of feeling so hurt and broken. She needs to feel something, anything else, and this is the perfect way. 

The song comes to an end, random man whispering something in her ear about being right back. She jumps when he squeezes her ass and slithers away. Solana feels a bit silly just standing there, so she makes her way back over to the bar.

A small, inebriated smile on her face, she’s pleased to see the same bartender. 

“Another shot, p–please.”

The woman, tall and dark in every aspect outside of her almost pale complexion, with tattoos covering her body gives her an almost hesitant look. “You sure about that, babe? You’ve had quite a bit to drink already.”

Solana rolls her eyes. “I’m not a child." Gesturing to her outfit, her nipples milliseconds from popping out, prompting her to adjust her top, she repeats her request. “A shot, please.”

Striking blue eyes gleam with continued reticence as the tall woman turns away to fulfil the order. 

Solana leans back against the bar, closing her eyes and taking in the environment. She feels so free, so liberated from the shackles of hurt, pain, and betrayal that have consumed her since she was ripped away from her home and life and everything she loves only to be dumped into this shitshow of a storm.

It’s unfair. All of it, but she’s done letting it drown her.

She can’t.

“Well damn.” Her head snaps up to the sound of the voice that’s much closer than what’s necessary. “You sure look like you know how to have a good time.”

Solana studies the man before her, his complexion a few shades darker than her own. His brown eyes are warm but intense and contrast his short, onyx hair and thick brows that have cutouts on the end. His build is more on the stocky side but still muscular.

A small smile falls on her face. “Something like that.” Taking him in one time, she offers her name. “I’m Solana.”

“Zilla,” he answers with a confident smirk. “You not from around here.”

She nods, recognizing it’s more of a statement than anything. “I’m….new to town.”

Unfortunately.

He makes a sound, eyes focusing on her breast. “Lucky us, huh?”

Giggling, she teases, largely fueled by the liquor, “maybe.”

“Zilla.” Another voice sounds, not as deep, but still smooth. Accented. Solana turns to see another man with a similar complexion, lithe yet muscular build and almost angular features. He's older than the shorter man, clearly. Not that that really matters to her.

His gaze quickly settles on her, revealing a gleam of lust. “Who is this?”

“S–solana,” she answers matter-of-factly. “W–who are you?”

He smirks. “Tama.”

Solana snorts and rolls her eyes. “I—interesting.” It’s not missed on her how the both of them continue to focus on everything but her face, namely her chest. “Let’s just s–skip to the good part boys, why don’t we?” They both look curious as she asks with batted eyelashes. “Let’s get out of here.”

It’s a statement that, in actuality, surprises all three of them. Solana knows what she’s saying, knows what she’s asking, but there’s still something about it that feels….non-autonomous. Like she’s in control, but she’s not actually in control. 

Something she should probably think more about, but thinking and feeling have done her no good these past few weeks, so fuck it.

“Which one of us?” Zilla is the one to ask, licking his lips, hand reaching out and brushing his fingers over her forearm. Tama remains watchful and attentive but keeping his hands to himself.

For now.

And with a wry smile, glazed eyes, and fiery, drunken determination, she answers boldly, “both.”

—--------

Solana moans at the set of lips that suck on her neck and the set of hands—she’s not sure whose—that squeeze at her breast.

Lips parted, eyes closed, she’s fully immersed in this moment, solely focused on the hands that touch and grab all over her body.

“Shit,” she hisses when someone moves their hand in between her thighs, nudging them open and feeling at her thong.

Zilla smirks and teases his finger in a circle against the inside of her thigh. “That pussy nice and wet for us already, man.”

Tama makes a sound, moving his hand to Solana’s hair, yanking her head back and forcing her eyes open. “You’re a good,submissive little bitch, aren’t you?”

There’s something both erotic and disrespectful about it, about his statement, about his delivery, about the way he tightens his grip in her hair. But, she doesn’t care, she’s too caught in the moment, too consumed by the alcohol. 

“Take that shit off her,” Zilla directs Tama, the older man easily guiding her onto her knees on the bed. His hands go to the bottom of her dress, pulling it up and off her, leaving her in just a thong.

Something strange washes over her, Solana naturally moving her hands across her chest, suddenly feeling a sense of unease and discomfort. Like something is…..off. 

Like she shouldn’t have told Dre to mind his business and wait outside in the SUV as she prepares to engage in the unthinkable. 

“Wait…..” She murmurs, maybe to them, maybe to herself. She’s not entirely sure. 

Tama, however, ushers her arms down and guides her to lay down. Solana readies to protest again when he latches his mouth onto her nipple, evoking a moan from her, the pleasure easily overpowering the logic. 

Her hand moves to the back of his short hair, her body writhing underneath him as he slides his hand down her belly and slips it into her thong. She whimpers when he teases his fingers against her wet, velvety opening.

“Goddamn, you got some big ass titties,” Zilla makes a sound from where he stands at the foot of the bed, Solana briefly opening her eyes to see he’s messing with something, something she can’t seem to make out, just that he’s situating it on the dresser in front of the bed. A perfect view of what’s about to transpire. 

For a second, the slightest second, she’s reluctant.

“What—what are you doing?” Furrowed brows as Tama sits up and also goes to remove his shirt, Solana leaning up on her elbows. 

“Nothing, baby,” Zilla answers, standing directly in front of her. He goes to undo his belt when he pauses to look at her, asking, “you sure you wanna do this?”

Solana stills, noticing how Tama is also looking at her with an expectant expression.

No. She’s not sure, but yet she is. She wants to, but she’s also nervous. She’s only had sex once, but it’s that one time, albeit amazing and wonderful, that led to this emotional spiral she’s been on. It’s what led her to stepping away from the good, innocent path she’s always been on and entered her onto whatever this is. 

So, not, she’s absolutely not sure.

But, what she is sure of is that she’s tired of crying all the time, tired of thinking of Roman, of trying to figure out how he went from being almost kind to her to basically telling her she means nothing to him. That the night they spent together, her first time, him taking her virginity, something she always imagined giving to the one, meant nothing. 

Roman can’t be her one and only anymore. 

Especially when she was never and will never be his. 

Solana moves her fingers to her thong, sliding them down and off her body, laying on the bed and giggling while throwing them toward the two men.

“Let’s do it.”

[lvis44]

Sweet Escape - Wedding Pt. 2 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Language, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Anxiety

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: The second part of our wedding... I was reading my doc and figured this part was solid enough to be put into the universe lol. More to come but, once again, I do not know the timeline. I hope this holds you guys enjoy and this holds you over in the meantime! *insert Lil Wayne - Sorry 4 The Wait - here*. I've said it a million times and I will say it a million more, I cannot get my brain to stay in one tense while writing so ignore it the best you can lol. I LOVE YOU GUYS!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Epilogue - The Wedding Pt.1

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the dark ceiling when you hear your phone start to vibrate on the side table, causing you to groan. Just because your nerves are keeping you awake doesn’t mean you want to talk to anyone. When you see his name flash across your screen your first reaction is to laugh at his insistence but quickly anxiety washes over you. Every possible thing that could be wrong flashing through your mind as you answer his call.

“Lew?” You croak out, your voice dry in your throat.

“Hey. Shit, I didn’t wake you did I? Just needed to hear your voice and this can’t possibly count as me seeing you before the wedding.” He’s quiet on the other end, probably trying not to wake Miles in the other room.

“No, can’t sleep.” You admit. You’ve thought a few times throughout the night that you should have given in and let him hold you tonight, knowing you more than likely already would have fallen asleep.

“Neither can I, my nerves are going crazy.” He sounds vulnerable and you can’t help but worry.

“Not backing out on me, are you?” You attempt to joke, even though the anxiety is real.

“What? No, baby, never.” He laughs at the absurdity of your question, making you feel that much better, “No, I’m just stressing over the whole thing. Thinking maybe we should have just run away and eloped.”

“We still can.” You giggle, knowing he’s joking but understanding the feeling.

He joins you in your laughter before falling silent. You know he’s too deep in his own thoughts so you let him settle on what he wants to say.

“I’m just worried something will go wrong like the catering will be shit or the decorations won’t be right. I don’t know, I just need it to be perfect for you. Perfect for us.” He finally shares, his voice is tired.

“Lew, the only thing that could possibly ruin tomorrow is if for some reason we legally can’t get married. Even if we end up in a courthouse, I’m ending the day as your wife. Everything else is just an excuse for us to throw a kick ass party.” You try your best to assure him.

His laugh comes through the phone before he lets out a sigh, “You’re right, nothing else matters. This is why I’m marrying you ya’ know.”

“Why? Because I would have said yes even if you proposed with a ring pop?” You tease him, your smile spreading across your face.

“Well that,” He laughs, “but also because with two sentences from you, I’ve felt calmer than I’ve felt since the second I got here to the hotel. You always manage to make everything seem okay and truth be told as long as I have you, it is.”

His words hit you deep, knowing how much he means them.

“You know you’re supposed to save the vows for later, right?” You joke, trying not to choke up, knowing if you’re too sincere with him right now you will end up in tears.

“I love you Y/N.” He says simply, aware you're trying not to get too emotional.

“I love you Lewis. You wanna stay on the phone?” It’s something you’ve done many times while he’s been away and the distance has gotten to be too much. You barely talk, just content in the sound of each other's breathing and the rustle of the others sheets.

“If you don’t mind?” He sounds nervous again, like he feels like he’s asking too much of you.

“Always. Good night Lew, I love you.” You say quietly, settling back into your bed.

“I love you baby.”

You don’t say another word, both falling asleep quickly after your chat. The comfort of each other being all you needed to truly relax.

* * *

Charlotte's soft voice ringing through the room is the first thing you hear as you try to adjust to being awake. The second you start to come into yourself, the nerves come flooding in.

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” Charlotte is laughing as you sit up in bed. Your phone is still sitting on top of the comforter next to you, the call now having ended. You can only assume Lewis is already awake and getting ready or his phone died. You can’t help but smile at the memory of your conversation last night, both of you needing a moment of solace within the other.

“What?” You ask groggily, attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes.

“Well, to start I said Good Morning Ms. Soon to be Hamilton,” She started, her voice much too loud before realizing and quieting right down, “then I told you that hair and makeup are on their way to the venue and the car will be here in about an hour.”

You raised your eyebrows at her as she sat down on the bed.

“I know, I should have woken you up earlier but I heard you talking in here at almost three in the morning, I assume with Lewis, and I wanted you to get some sleep,” She explains softly, putting her hand up to stop you as you go to respond, “there’s a light breakfast here if you want some, but you have plenty of time to shower and grab some food. If you don’t eat now, I’ve already scheduled some food for you at the venue that you can eat while they're doing your hair before you get your makeup done.”

You let out a sigh, thankful that she has thought ahead, you go to thank her but she starts again.

“I’ve already confirmed with four different people at the venue that your dress is there, hair and makeup has a place to set up, your room is on the other side of the building from Lewis so you won’t run into him, and all of the decorations have arrived and are being set up. The only thing you have to do today is let us take care of you, know that Miles and I have everything under control, and get married!” She finishes her spiel with a smirk, knowing that everything she just covered were concerns running through your mind, always proving even further why she was your Maid of Honor.

“Thank you, you are an absolute angel.” You say as you grab her hand.

“I do have to ask, just being nosy,” She starts, laughing gently, “was it Lewis on the phone last night?”

You feel yourself blushing unnecessarily, there being no reason to be embarrassed for talking to the man you are about to marry.

“Yeah, neither of us could sleep, just needed to talk to each other for a second.” You say sheepishly.

“And that right there is why you two are getting married today baby!” She says enthusiastically, once again much louder than you would prefer for the time of day.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” You tell her as you push yourself out of bed, feeling your stomach growl, “food will be there for me?”

She laughs at your need to double check before nodding, “Yes there will, I heard that, you need some food.”

“Leave me alone.” You grumble, laughing softly to yourself too as you stumble to the bathroom.

“You’ve got an hour, let me know if you need anything.” You hear her yell as she makes her way out of your bedroom to let you shower in peace.

It feels like you’ve entered an alternate universe once you are out of the shower. You ended up taking longer than anticipated and were being rushed to get dressed before ushered downstairs and into the back of another town car. Charlotte had a small bag packed for you and said she would take care of your luggage that was still in the room after the wedding, keeping the suite for the bridal party to stay in after the event. 

Your jaw almost dropped when the car finally pulled into the venue. You had been there before, a few times actually, over the last two summer breaks with Lewis, trying to finally decide. But now… now it was snowing, a winter wonderland surrounding the manor that had been deemed a castle by almost everyone around you and you couldn’t help but agree. A castle had been a dream of yours as a kid but never something you found realistic as an adult, safe to say realistic wasn’t in Lewis’ vocabulary when it came to your wedding. You had been watching Downton Abbey for the third time one night and made an offhand joke to Lewis about how you should get married at Highclere Castle, from then on he had made it his mission to find something that fit the bill. His first thought had been the castle itself but it hadn’t been an option, instead he found a place just outside of London that you had never heard of, something your wedding planner had never even seen, it was perfect. It was large and regal but still fit with both of your styles, allowing it to be decorated with a fine line of modernity and tradition. 

When you pulled up to the front door it looked as though you had stepped into a movie, the snow painting the perfect backdrop despite your hesitance. You hadn’t been sure about a winter wedding but Lewis was impatient and winter was his favorite season. He had done so much of what you had dreamed of that you couldn’t help but agree, knowing it didn’t matter when or where you got married, as long as it ended with him.

Charlotte was quickly ushering you and your mother inside and out of the cold. The entrance was bustling with people moving flower arrangements, chairs, tables, everything you had asked for being set up right in front of your eyes. Charlotte was pulling you down the hallway to your left before you had a chance to even take it all in.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m rushing around but you can relax the second we get you into the bridal suite. I promise.” She was apologizing from in front of you while you tried to keep up with her brisk pace, your mom close behind you.

“Are we late?” You couldn’t help but ask, feeling nervous all over again.

“No , we’re perfectly on time, but the damn men are early and I will be damned if Lewis wins and sees you before you’re at the altar.” Her voice is serious and you can’t help but laugh out loud. It truly isn’t that big of a deal to you but the moment you mentioned it being part of the plan Charlotte and Miles made it their top priority for the day of the wedding.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” You continue to laugh at Charlotte as she slows down once you’ve reached the doors of the suite. Secretly you wouldn’t mind a quick hello, or even just a glimpse at his beautiful face, but she was determined.

“It’s part of the plan therefore we will be sticking to it, everything will be exactly how you want it today.” Her voice is stern before she opens the door to the suite and welcomes you in.

You’re immediately welcomed by the crew you had hired to take care of everyones hair and makeup. You had spent a while choosing the perfect team and had been in touch with them frequently over the last few months and the familiar faces made you excited. Charlotte tells you to take a seat on the plush couch off to the side and makes her way over to talk with the crew, making sure everything is taken care of for you. Your mom comes to join you on the couch, mimosas in hand with a shocked look on her face, acting as if she doesn’t know where they came from. You giggle as you happily take one from her hand while someone sets food on the small table in front of you, immediately reminding you of how hungry you were back at the hotel.

“You should have something to eat, even if it’s just a nibble. You have some time before you need to start getting ready.” Your mom tells you softly, gesturing towards the spread sitting in front of you.

You nod, leaning forward to grab a pastry as you watch Charlotte in amusement, animated as ever while she gets everyone and everything organized. You take a moment to sit in silence, well as silent as it can be with people bustling about, letting yourself take it all in. You continue to eat as much as you feel you can keep down before someone is suggesting you get in your robe. When you come back from the changing room there are many more people in the room, everyone finally arrived and ready to get ready. You had decided to keep the wedding parties small on both sides. You had Charlotte as your maid of honor, your cousin who had become a sister to you over the years, and your childhood best friend. Miles was Lewis’ best man, Nicolas, and Daniel. Your mom was getting ready with you as well as Linda, Carmen and Lewis’ sisters.

As you sat in the chair watching your hair transform, joking and laughing with your stylist Javier, you took in the sight around you through the mirror. Both families and friends blending into one big happy group, laughing together and sharing mimosas. You were thrilled at the thought of everyone becoming one large family, beyond excited for the next chapter of your life.

“Ladies! I need to say something before everyone starts with their makeup,” Charlottes voice commanded the room getting everyone's attention, “thank you! Okay, I just need to start by saying Y/N, I love you so much and I am so beyond thrilled that you are marrying my second best friend,” she sends you a wink as you both laugh with Lewis not even in the room to defend his decade long friendship, “he is like a brother to me and you very quickly became my little sister. That being said, I want to stress to every one that today is supposed to be perfect and WE are going to make sure it is,” her words are firm as she gestures around the room to your bridesmaids, “these two mean the absolute world to me and after everything it took to get them to this point I will not settle for ‘okay’, we’re looking for perfection.”

“Char, it’s-” You try to stop her, feeling like she’s making far too big a deal out of your day.

“Nope, Y/N, let me say this, you deserve it.” She shushes you before continuing, “I want everyone to have an absolute blast but most importantly I NEED Y/N and Lewis to have the best day of their lives. Annoying guest? Figure it out. Issue with the rings? Find me or Miles. Trouble with your dress? Suck it up, today isn’t about us.” Her voice is that of a strict teacher as she lectures your family and friends and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh before the comment about the rings latches on to your brain, “Y/N, babe, I love you so much and I am so happy for you. You are marrying the best human I know, well second to you of course, and I cannot wait to see the life that you two create together, I know it will be magical. Cheers everybody!”

You barely even register the sweet words she directs at you as she finishes her speech, your body working on auto pilot to raise you mimosa for her toast. The moment she sees the look on your face she’s rushing over to you.

“Hon, what’s wrong? You look worried.”

“What’s wrong with the rings? They’re here, right? They look correct? Nothing’s broken? You said there’s a problem with the rings, what's the problem?” You rush out your new concerns, not taking a moment to think once she’s in front of you.

“What? No, no, everything’s fine. Why would there be a problem with the rings?” She asks you confused for a moment before the realization dawns on her face, “Oh sweetie that was just an example, everything is totally fine. It’s exactly like we talked about, I have your band and Miles has Lewis’, I even texted him when we got here to make sure he had it. Do you want to see yours? I have it in my bag, I can go grab it.” Her words of reassurance are rushed as she tries to calm the new anxiety fluttering through your mind.

“No, oh my god, sorry, I just…” You shake your head, wanting to laugh at yourself for becoming so panicked so quickly, “I think my brain just blacked out after I heard ‘issue with the rings’, I don’t know why I let that freak me out so much.”

“It’s okay, you have a lot going on and this is a big deal, don’t worry about it, it’s what I’m here for.” Charlotte calms you, rubbing your forearm as she squats in front of your chair.

“Alright beautiful bride! Ready to make that gorgeous face even better?” Javier’s voice comes excitedly from behind you, rubbing your shoulders as he tries to coax you to turn around so he can start on your makeup.

You take a deep breath, the reality of the day settling into the pit of your stomach, before turning around, ready to be transformed. You’ve had him do this look on you numerous times, wanting to make sure it was exactly what you wanted and you trust his skills, but still the underlying anxiety refuses to leave you. You had opted for a more natural look, similar to what you would do on the day to day but elevated, you wanted to look like yourself, like the you that Lewis fell in love with. As you sat in the chair being pampered, listening to people bustle around behind you, a billion new scary thoughts and anxieties swarmed through your head.

You know you’re making the right choice, there is no one in the universe better made for you than Lewis and no one who you could love or love you more than him. You know everything is taken care of and planned to your liking, but you didn’t place each flower or taste every dish prepared today. You know all of the most important people in your life RSVP’d yes, but you haven’t laid eyes on them today, you don’t know if they’ve arrived on time. Every single detail that has been a stress in the back of your mind for the last year has now become the only thing you can think about. You’re trying so hard to let them slip to the background, to stay in the moment, enjoy the laughter of your bridal party and the random chatter from Javier, but it doesn’t work.

Your mom is the first to notice, seeing you with a furrowed brow and your eyes shut tight as Javier steps away to grab something.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asks quietly, her hand resting on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

The sound of her voice almost brings you to tears and you can’t quite explain why. You look at her through the mirror, noticing the deep concern on her face.

“Everyone wants it to be so perfect, what if it isn’t? I asked everyone to travel so far and what if it lets them down. The Hamilton wedding is supposed to be THE event, what if it’s not right or something goes wrong or it isn’t what people were expecting?” You ramble so quietly you’re worried she won’t be able to hear you.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” She says through a pout, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and meeting you cheek to cheek, “not an ounce of what you just said matters, I know you’re nervous but don’t stress yourself. Today is supposed to be one of the best days of your life, not because of how fancy it is or what caterer you hired, but because you are marrying a man that will love you, protect you, and take care of you for the rest of your life. I know that it feels like it’s all about the party and the flair, but today you are taking a step for you and Lewis and that is all that matters, you are building your life with an amazing man who would move mountains for you and that is all that matters. All you have to worry about is making it to the end of the aisle, saying I Do, and kissing your husband. We’re all just lucky that we get to witness it.”

“Fuck,” you breathe out with a dry laugh, “you’re right. It’s just so much.”

“Just keep reminding yourself that that beautiful man is going to be legally yours till death do you part.” She laughs before kissing your cheek, lightening your mood as you picture his perfect face. While her words do ease your nerves a new very important thought pops into your head, a new non-negotiable.

“Charlotte.” You call out urgently, aware of your time crunch.

“I’m here, what do you need?” She asks quickly, rushing to your side like a lady in wait.

“Lewis,” You start, watching as her eyebrows shoot up in a disapproving look, “no I know, I won’t look at him or let him look at me, I just need to squeeze his hand and hear his voice, I promise.”

She still doesn’t look quite convinced as you plead with her, “Y/N, no seeing Lewis was a very hard rule from day one of wedding planning. Are you sure?”

“Char, please, figure out a way so I don’t see him, we’ll stick to the rules but he’s been there to calm me down and make sure I’m okay for every major thing in my life for a more than half a decade and I don��t know about you but I’d say this is a pretty major thing! It won’t be any worse than me talking to him last night, I swear.” You plead with her, grabbing her hands, suddenly very set on needing to at least speak to Lewis before walking down the aisle.

“Okay, okay, yes, I will make it happen, but before you get into your dress, just in case, gimme a sec.” She agrees as her face softens, seeing your desperation, realizing that she too would need Lewis for a moment before something this big. He may be your lover, your fiance, the man you are about to spend the rest of your life with, but at the core he is your best friend, the man that has been there for you since you showed up at game night years ago, your other half.

Charlotte quickly leaves the room after squeezing your hand and telling Javier he can start working again. You assume she’s headed to find Miles, or she’s gone straight to Lewis. You start to get anxious yet again that you may be causing Lewis anxiety, you should have told her to tell him that you’re fine and just being selfish, remembering the moment of fear you had last night when he had called you.

You’re not sure how long it takes her but once your makeup is finished she has returned and is requesting for you to follow her. You feel silly walking out of the suite with pinned hair and your robe on but all you can think about is talking to Lewis, eager to hear his voice as if you’ve just started dating. Charlotte ushers you down a hallway to an empty room with a door on the other side. You’re far enough away from everyone that the noise has quieted and you can subsequently feel your brain calming down, realizing just how overstimulated you’ve been for the last few hours. Charlotte guides you to the far wall of the room, next to the door frame, turning you to back up against it before gently knocking on the door. It takes only a second for the door to open, Miles’ smiling face appearing next to you.

“Well hello beauty, you look fucking incredible.” He says before leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“It’s not fair that I don’t get to see her.” You hear your fiance whine from the other side of the wall, making you giggle and your cheeks warm.

“All in due time brother, you’re the lucky one though, you get to see her at the altar.” Miles says teasingly, leaning back through the door to look at Lewis before coming back to you, “So I have your fiance here as requested. Char and I will give you guys some privacy.”

“Thank you Miles, I’m sorry if this is a pain, I just needed a minute.” You tell him, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

Before he can respond, Miles is bursting out into a laugh, “Love, this was a help on my end, mans has been so annoyed that he hasn’t been allowed to see you all day, he hasn’t shut up about you once. Enjoy, you evidently both need it.” He says as his laughter begins to die down, sending a disapproving look into the room behind you where you assume Lewis is giving him the same back. “You guys have five minutes, and absolutely no peeking.”

“We won’t.” You and Lewis both promise in unison, making both of you giggle as Charlotte and Miles walk away to another room to give you your privacy.

“I mean it!” Miles turns around to yell, still walking backwards as he points his finger at you, “ I will know just by the look on bruvs face if he caught a glimpse of you, don’t you dare.”

“We’ll be good, I promise. Thank you guys!” You yell back at him as they disappear through a nearby door.

“Hey you.” You hear Lewis’ soft voice after a moment, your heart swelling just upon hearing the recognizable timbre.

“Hi.” You squeak, forgetting everything you had wanted to say when you asked Charlotte to make this happen.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, his voice filled with concern and care.

“Yes, oh my god yes,” You start, your anxiety of concerning him coming back tenfold, “I’m so sorry, I just, I don’t know, I was getting really anxious and then I realized that I haven’t had a big moment in life without you either being right there or calling me for like more than five years and then I got worried that I wouldn’t make it through something like this without talking to you first, which is silly because I know I’m literally preparing myself to marry you, like I’m going to see you at the altar in like an hour but I don’t know, my mom said all this stuff about how amazing you are trying to calm my nerves and then I realized I absolutely had to at least talk to you and I’m sorry if you were busy, I’m not trying to be needy, you just calm me and this day is so much and there's so much going on and it has to be perfect and-” Your words are rushed, not thinking them through as you ramble to him, not stopping to even take a breath.

“Y/N,” Lewis cuts you off, his voice firm but gentle, “it’s okay, please take a breath.”

You drop your head, almost embarrassed by how calm he sounds with the emotions swirling around in your head at the moment. You listen to his request and take a deep breath, trying to calm your breathing and your mind.

“Good, now another.” He instructs you calmly as you feel his hand sneak around the door frame and brush your hip.

The moment you see his skin you reach down and grasp his hand firmly, needing him to ground you as you take yet another deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you squeeze his hand, trying to breathe like he wants you to.

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for,” He starts softly, squeezing your hand just as firmly, “I know this whole thing is a lot and there’s so much going on, but none of that is important. I don’t give a fuck how anything goes as long as I get to end the night married to you, that’s all that matters today,” His voice is soft as he assures you, washing over you like a warm blanket before it turns cheeky as he adds, “well I also want to see you in that dress and obviously whatever you have underneath it.”

You want to laugh and cry at the same time, amused by how easily a stupid (yet serious) comment could lift your spirits, simply because it came from him. Amazed that the same sentiment that has been spoken to you by everyone around you with no avail, could take a burden off your chest simply because they came from his mouth.

“I love you so much Lew.” You reply, squeezing his hand so hard you’re worried you’ll hurt him, trying to fight back tears as you do.

“I love you so much my sweet girl and I will tell you just how much when you meet me at the altar. You’ve changed my life, you’ve made me a better man, a better human, you’ve made me happier than I knew was even possible and I want nothing more than to marry you today. I don’t care how that happens, if you want to run away right now and head to vegas we can, at the end of the day I just want you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and nothing matters besides us. This whole castle could burn down right now and as long as I still had you I truly would not care. I love you so much and today is going to be incredible no matter what happens, but I bet you nothing will go wrong because we planned it and we’re pretty amazing.” He sealed his words with a kiss to the back of your hand, chuckling as he finished. His lips on your skin gave you a whole new sense of confidence and ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach.

You wished so badly that you could see him, that you could properly kiss him, but you reminded yourself that you were close to the finish line, that he would be all yours soon.

“I love you too, so so much, thank you for this, I’m sorry if I interrupted, I just needed to hear your voice and be close to you.” You admit to him with a sigh as you lean back against the wall.

“You’re never an interruption, whenever you need me I’m here, always. Besides, Miles wasn’t lying, I’ve been going crazy since we left the rehearsal dinner wanting to see you, touch you, kiss you, talk to you, literally anything. I know we’ve gone weeks apart from each other but everything feels different right now.” He tells you, making you smile, that you're not completely alone in your desperation. You take a moment, leaning against the wall in silence as you hold his hand, letting your nerves wash away.

“Alright, love birds! Time to go get fancy and hit the altar!” Miles’ voice cuts through your moment as he hollers and claps, returning to the room.

You let out a sigh, wishing your moment with Lewis could continue but reluctantly begin to move away from the wall. Before you can get too far, he is gripping your hand and pulling you back to place a kiss on your hand before leaving a lingering kiss on your pulse point.

“I love you Y/N, just come meet me at the altar. Nothing else matters.” His words are muttered into the skin of your wrist before he finally lets you go and Charlotte is ushering you away back to your suite as Miles stands guard making sure Lewis doesn’t cheat and sneak a peek at you.

“Feeling better?” Char asks as you make your way down the hall.

“So much better, I feel perfect.” You say through a smile, meaning it wholeheartedly, “ I’M GETTING MARRIED!”

[klausinamarink]

He Want Kiss

rating: G | cw: none | wc: 630 | tags: post s4, getting together, first kiss, Steve is down bad | prompt: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him

written for @steddielovemonth

Steve is obsessed with Eddie’s lips. 

Like completely to the point that he might actually start going to therapy. 

But Steve is just a simple man. He sees a pair of well-rounded lips that can make a perfect smile with dimples and he’s a goner. For example, look at Eddie. They’re so plump looking that Steve cannot believe it’s legal. And the way they move whenever Eddie speaks-

“-ink I should go for this one?”

Steve snaps his gaze up, barely surviving from the combination of head whiplash and the pointed attack of Eddie’s eyes, Jesus Christ, look at them Bambi eyes.

“Oh yeah, man.” How Steve manages not to stutter is both a mystery and a blessing. 

“Yeah?” Eddie looks at him, his expression mixed with expectation and nervousness.

“Yeah.” Steve repeats confidently. He’s already forgetting what exactly they were talking about but he knows it has to do with Eddie trying to get a job, hence why he called Steve over to help him out with the few applications that believe in Eddie’s innocence. “Like, yeah, go for that.” 

Christ, he might as well bash his head again. Steve really doesn’t want to come off as a douche again, but it’s not his fault that Eddie’s lips are just right there. They’re just begging to be kissed.

Thankfully, Eddie seems pleased by his answer. He smiles, dimples and all - oh lord please have mercy on Steve’s soul because he cannot handle the adorableness any longer - as he says, “Well, if Steve Harrington says so, then I will do it.” Then Eddie starts biting his lip, glancing down at the resume they’ve polished together. 

Steve digs his fingernails through the jeans over his thighs, but it’s not enough to bat away the growing temptation to reach forward and brush his fingers over Eddie so the other man wouldn’t abuse his lips anymore. The skin had already been cracked and bleeding in the past few months and it’s always so devastating to see Eddie hurt a part of himself like this.

Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, Steve should kiss him. 

Eddie is right there. While there will be lots of opportunities to have him at Steve’s side, there’ll never be another perfect chance like this. 

Steve leans forward a bit but stops himself. Has Eddie ever been kissed before? If he did, does he like the faint touch of lips brushing together? Like smashed together? Full-on make-out sessions that lead to something more passionate? 

Okay, Steve could work on the slow route. He’s done it before with his previous girlfriends. He could lean in at a snail’s pace so Eddie has enough time to register what’s happening and-

“Steve?”

Suddenly, Eddie’s face is much closer than Steve remembers. He feels a heat of breath against his lips. Then the rush of realization comes over Steve because he was about to kiss Eddie.

Yet despite this, Steve barely feels a sense of embarrassment. He stays in place, staring into Eddie’s wide eyes as they flicker over his face, lingering on Steve’s lips every few seconds. 

Finally, Eddie huffs out a nervous little laugh, “You, uh, listened to what I just said?”

“Hm-mm.” Steve shakes his head. He feels like he’s on cloud nine and whatever Eddie does next, he’s going to scream at the heavens anyway. 

Eddie’s lips form the briefest of smirks, but it’s gone in a blink. They part open slightly. 

Steve can’t hold it anymore. He closes the space between them and meets Eddie’s lips at last. It’s more rough and desperate than he plans it to be and tries to dial it back. But when Eddie kisses him with a similar force, Steve goes screw it and kisses back like it’s their last chance.