#DRESSED TO THE GODS IN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GOWN IMAGINABLE

[dylanconrique]

lucy chen staircase reveal when, hm? WHEN???

#*and this is icarly! #the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford #chenford #otp: you know me so well #I'M SO DEEP IN MY SPEAK NOW ERA SHE HAS ALWAYS BEEN AND WILL ALWAYS BE MY MOST FAVORITE TAYLOR ALBUM 💜💜💜 #i need to witness this man have his breath taken away as he watches his girlfriend descend a staircase in slow mo #DRESSED TO THE GODS IN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GOWN IMAGINABLE #HER HAIR CASCADING ELEGANTLY AROUND HER SHOULDER #PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GIVE ME THIS FAIRYTALE FANTASY

[cartierre]

DIVINE FEMININE | cl16

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU charles leclerc x fem!reader

side note: i purposefully left out any tweets because this focuses more on the aesthetics side note pt.2: thank you @cl16version for the photo inspirations!

♡ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 115,923 others

tagged: yourusername

viviennewestwood yourusername wears a custom wedding gown created just for her beautiful wedding to Formula One driver charles_leclerc in the South of France last weekend.

"When I was younger I always liked to imagine what my future wedding dress would look like. As soon as I met Vivienne at a fashion show, I knew she had to be part of it. I feel very honoured to have worked with her and other amazing designers on my look. It felt like a dream come true." ~ Y/N Leclerc

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user1 imagine having THE vivienne westwood custom design your wedding dress ⤷ user2 thank god charles has money because otherwise that dream would've stayed a dream

yourusername still baffled by all the amazing looks you created for me to wear throughout the night! what an honour! comment liked by viviennewestwood

user3 the way they wrote 'Y/N Leclerc' has me in tears (in an emotional way) ⤷ user4 i still can't get over the fact they truly married. i'm so happy for them

user5 Y/N LOOKS SO STUNNING ⤷ user6 the most beautiful bride

♡ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 312,845 others

tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc

daniel3.jpg unpaid, personal photographer

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user7 i want a whole documentary about what happened at this wedding ⤷ user8 it looks so much fun i'm so envious of all the guests that attended ⤷ user9 i know everyone who had to cancel is fighting the air right now

yourusername the picture of charles is my new favourite ⤷ daniel3.jpg same, same

user10 i love how with every slide the drunkeness scale rapidly increases ⤷ user11 as it should

charles_leclerc yes, we definitely enjoyed ourselves ⤷ daniel3.jpg the champagne was endless

user12 it's so funny that daniel is the first one to post about the wedding. he is really their number one fan ⤷ user13 i mean he was the one to introduce y/n to charles ⤷ user14 it's like he's watching his two babies getting married

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, sofiarichie and 273,976 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername to love & to cherish

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user15 i love how she just has multiple wedding dresses ⤷ user16 she's that kind of indecisive

charles_leclerc mon seul et unique amour (my one and only love) ⤷ yourusername i love it when you speak french

danielricciardo i want nieces and nephews in an instant ⤷ yourusername who said you'd be their uncle ⤷ danielricciardo that's not even a question

carlossainz55 felicidades ⤷ yourusername thank you

user17 i just know nicola peltz is crying in her sleep right now ⤷ user18 nicola really thought she ate until y/n stepped up

lilymhe i still have tears in my eyes from how beautiful it was ⤷ yourusername wouldn't have been as beautiful as it was without such an organised maid of honour ⤷ lilymhe i was so scared something would go wrong

♡ liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and 1,027,329 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc mon tout (my everything)

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user19 you know they're rich because not only did y/n have multiple custom made wedding gowns, but charles also had multiple suits ⤷ user20 did you expect anything less from them?

yourusername i love you so incredibly much ⤷ charles_leclerc i'm the luckiest man alive

user21 this is my royal wedding ⤷ user22 my met gala

scuderiaferrari congratulazioni! così felice per te! (congratulations! so happy for you!) comment liked by charles_leclerc

arthur_leclerc i still can't believe my big brother is finally married ⤷ charles_leclerc did you not believe in my charm? ⤷ arthur_leclerc honestly, no ⤷ yourusername it was actually my charm that got you wrapped around my fingers

♡ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 472,065 others

lando.jpg "the wedding of the decade"

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user23 why did it never occur to me that there'd be LITERAL CELEBRETIES attending their wedding ⤷ user24 yeah like you're telling me timmy, billie, zoe, bella and kendall were there? a fever dream, if you'd ask me ⤷ user25 this just makes me question who else was there

user26 this is just so fucking random hahahaha

yourusername i love how these are all pictures i have never seen before! next time i'll hire you and daniel professionally ⤷ charles_leclerc what do you mean "next time" ⤷ user27 Y/N HAHAHAHAHA

user28 the more pictures i'm seeing of this wedding, the more the desire comes for me to get married as well ⤷ user29 literally never wanted to get married until now

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfiction #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic

[nateezfics]

so uhhhh those pics of hj in the suit at the hotel give pre wedding energy…if that gives you any kind of fic inspiration…

hongjoong getting ready for his wedding. this man will be in some sort of designer suit. like head to toe, it’s designer. i mean, it’s hongjoong so.

imagine him at the hotel getting ready on the day of your wedding. the rest of ateez are there to support him, to help him get prepared for the event ahead. he’s absolutely a sight in his suit, his hair fixed, a fancy watch on his wrist. his empty left ring finger that he keeps staring at, thinking about how in just while there will be a ring there, and he’ll be a married man. he’s so giddy the whole time he’s getting ready, body humming with nerves and excitement. he’s recounting his vows in his head, but seonghwa assures him that he’s got a copy of the written vows. the rest of the boys giving him pats on the back and encouraging words. wooyoung making a comment about how gorgeous you’re gonna look, and hongjoong’s head becoming occupied by you. he’s so ready to see you in your pretty white dress. he might burst if he doesn’t see you soon. hongjoong texting you periodically during down time while he still waits at the hotel. you don’t respond — you’re busy getting ready of course — but he sends them anyway. he sends things like “god i can’t wait to see you baby” “you’re going to be so beautiful” “i love you more than anything” “ready to be mrs.kim?” “i’m so lucky i get to marry you”.

hongjoong letting his mind wander to what happens after the wedding, when he gets to have you, his bride, all to himself. he thinks about getting to make love to you for the first time as husband and wife. all the things he’s gonna do to you, starting with carefully pulling your wedding gown down your body. he wonders if you’re wearing lingerie underneath. and god, it’s a lot, and he has to be careful when he starts feeling his trousers become a little snug.

hongjoong crying despite his best efforts not to when he finally sees you. he’s just so in awe of you; you’re literally the most stunning person he’s ever met. buries his face in your neck when he hugs you to hide his tears, which ends up getting caught on camera by the photographer, and turning out to be such precious photos. hongjoong will totally cradle your face when he kisses you after being announced husband and wife. and he absolutely does not let go of your hand the entire wedding. you’re inseparable.

hongjoong being antsy to get you to the hotel. because he needs you all to himself. his touches are sneaky during the reception, growing braver the needier he becomes. there’s alcohol in his system, and he just can’t help himself. being absolutely reverent with you on your wedding night. the amount of love between you two fills up the whole hotel room. saying “i love you” over and over against your skin.

#this isn’t a fic per se but anon you’ve put the bug in my head and now i’m sitting here head full of groom!hongjoong #hongjoong hard thoughts #hongjoong x reader #anonymous

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Her

a/n just broadening my cheese thoughts. I freaking got hit by the love for my first mate. Had to revisit this red haired god.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"My answer won't change", Eris spoke firmly. They had been at it for hours. The alliance with the night court was important, yes. But that didn't mean that Eris was thrilled to attend the meetings. "Eris, this is crucial", Rhys almost pleaded. It was nearly funny. How desperate the high lord was. How he had rushed to Autumn just to see him. "You said that already", Eris breathed, reaching to pour himself another glass of whiskey. "Yet I don't think you understand", the lord of the night court growled.

"Oh, I do", and Eris did. But this was a matter he was not willing to discuss. Her. They needed her. Her. They didn't even address her by her name. She was just her. And that in itself annoyed him. Eris had silently dared them to call out her name. To let it swirl off their tongues, but it never did. "You know I would not ask if this wasn't important", Rhys tried once again. Eris met his gaze before saying slowly, "No". "Drop it, Rhys. He's a selfish ass only looking for...", Azriel started to say, but Eris's hands came in contact with a table he was sitting behind. "Do you know what you're asking for, you bastard?", the fireling pointed a warning finger at the shadow singer.

Rhys was about to speak again. But without any announcement, the double doors opened. In strolled her. The room died down. The silence was so loud that it was almost unbearable. Dressed in the most beautiful deep green gown that left very little to the imagination. The material itself was almost desperate to cling to her porcelain-like skin. Lips painted deep plum red, dark features. Beatty, who no doubt could cause wars, made men drop to their knees. Give up their most valuable possessions. Just so they could pray at her feet.

And yet her gaze was on Eris. Overlooking everyone else's presence, no one else at this moment deserved her attention. Yet she knew that everyone was looking at her. The way her hips swayed as she walked. Her breasts shifted as she pulled her hair to one side. Whatever they talked about was long forgotten. "My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail now, didn't it?", she beamed at Eris sheepishly. Eris gripped his glass tightly, nearly smashing it. He was dissatisfied with her actions. She knew it. He was mad. And it was true; she could feel it, and smell it. Everyone now had their eyes on her.

"You suffocate me, woman", the fireling snarled through gritted teeth. She only smirked, pulling his glass from his hands and brushing the corner of the glass with her lips—that same corner that Eris's lips touched not long ago—as she muttered, "You ignite me, husband". No more words were shared after that. They were fighting a silent battle with their eyes for a while before she turned to the other three males in the room.

"Now, before this place goes up in flames", she purred, looking directly at the Illyrians. Rhys bowed his head, sinking. She watched him. "Sweet, but it won't make a difference", she said, motioning for him to stand up. Rhys met her eyes, and she knew. She knew that he, too, understood. Knew that Eris and her were a match like no other. She was a true goddess of death, while Eris summoned fire. They could build and ignite hell together. Set the world up in flames and keep it blazing for centuries if they only desired.

Hence, this union was a secret. Kept from prying eyes and ears. It was a cry for war if the word spread. Beron was the one who managed to steal her from the underworld. One who bound her and his son forever. She was nothing but a feral beast the first time Eris saw her. She nearly suffocated him while a priestess wed them. But then his pain met hers, and what bloomed from this union was not something a world so small could handle. Could understand.

If others knew of their marriage, no one knew what they were doing behind closed doors. They couldn't even come close to grasping the strength of the bond that now mated them together. They knew nothing about their first night as a married couple. Of how frightened she had been back then by the demands that Beron made. Eris had grasped her wrist, poking her finger with his fang to draw a tiny bit of blood before he let the blood fall onto the sheets, so the maides could gossip about it in the morning. They knew nothing of the nights she spent playing the piano in Eris's office while he worked or simply sat there admiring her. They knew nothing about the hunting trips they took that had nothing to do with hunting. How they would bring the whole forest to fall silent before it burst to life as both of their cries filled the air.

She stepped closer. It was thrilling to see things no one else could. To be able to grasp things others couldn't touch. She pulled at one of the Illyrian's souls, bringing it out of his body as it seized. The thrill of touching something that wasn't yet meant to die was exceptional. "You're playing", Eris's voice cut through her desire. "Oh, I would never", She turned to her husband, letting herself giggle. Eris shook his head but did nothing to stop her. He just swirled his whiskey in his glass. "Cruel, cruel creature, let go of him", he said, and she huffed, "No fun". The Illyrian inhaled sharply, his hand on his chest, as his big eyes watched her. Yet all she did was smile.

"I can bring that soul to you", she said bluntly, turning away from them. He stepped to stand next to Eris, his hand coming to lay for her naked back. "I...", Rhys stuttered, clearly taken back by her words. He tried to come up with something to say but failed miserably. "Surprised that I know why you're here?", she teased, "Nature requires balance. Two nights from now, we shall come to the ever-white lake. I'll summon his soul", she said so naturally that it seemed as if all of this wasn't surreal.

"Y/N, this means so much", Rhys said, bowing his head again. "Leave", Eris growled, "If I see you before that time, your dogs will be dragging you out of the lake", Eris barked. She pinched her husband's side gently. The two winged males stepped forward angrily, but Rhys quickly placed his hands on their chests. She nodded her head at the Lord of the Night Court. He returned her gesture before winnowing out of the fireling's office.

"I don't like this...", Eris muttered when it was just the two of them in the room. He pushed his armchair back slightly, guiding her to sit on his lap, his arms snaking around her middle. "You don't like many things, dear", she breathed, her fingers moving to brush through his red hair. "You putting yourself in danger is at the top of the list", he stated firmly, reaching for his glass once more. He was always like this. His desire to protect her was something he hadn't yet conquered.

"You don't own me", she purred, pressing her finger against his chest. He nodded, "I do not, but you are the love of my life, and I would rather watch the world crumble than let you hurt", his words were powerful. Ones that other lovers spoke sparingly. But Eris. Eris was not like other lovers. And she knew that his love ran deep for her. And what he said was true. Because nothing could keep them apart. Eris would not allow it. She would not allow it.

"It's just one soul", her voice was much softer now as she spoke. "One too many", Eris muttered, swallowing the sharp liquor. A tight frown on his face. She touched his sulking features. "Don't do this", she whispered. Eris said nothing. He interviewed their fingers together. Bringing their hands, which were marked by twin tattoos, closer to his chest, he kissed the top of her palm. "I would not survive if...", Eris breathed out, brows knitting together. She cupped his face and said, "Good for you, my husband, that I have no intention of dying". Her eyes met his, and Eris could feel all the love she poured into his heart.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra acotar x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you

[f10werfae]

Kissies and Waxed

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry Cavill x Short!Shy!Wife!Reader

summary: Y/n gets all shy and adorable with her grumpy husband on their wedding night, letting him enjoy his waxed present(Dom Henry) (requested by anon)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Come on sugar, no need to be shy, m’your husband now. Seen your pretty pussy a handful a’times” Henry grumbled tugging on the laced back of his wife’s wedding gown, his lips dragging themselves down her neck and exposed shoulders. His larger hands coming round to subtly cup her breasts, giving them a light squeeze and jiggle.

“D-do I havta get butt naked?” She cutely whispered out, wrapping her arms around her smaller stature, her french tip nails highlighting their elegance. Having dated for a few months then eloping, Henry had definitively manoeuvred his way into her sweet tight pussy repeatedly; but for some reason tonight she was feeling shyer than normal.

“I mean i’d love to see ya, but it’s up to you” Henry chuckled, already pulling down the top of her dress, even with his words. “But you can trust me honey, don’t you trust me? love me?” Henry frowned furrowing his brows, making eye contact with her wide eyes through the mirror, the poor woman not noticing his manipulative tone.

“W-what! Of course I do! I promise I do Hen! Please forgive me” Y/n whimpered turning around in his arms, instantly feeling at ease when his burly arms wrapped around her short frame, his head resting atop hers. “I know you do sweet pea, I know” He whispered kissing the top of her head, he thought she was absolutely adorable and sexy at the same time, God he loves her so much; even if he shows it a different way than most..

“Can I take this off you sweets?”

Nodding into his chest, his fingers skilfully removed all the lace, his fingers tracing down her bare back and noticing that she was wearing nothing under the heavy gown. “No underwear? How naughty of you baby” Henry smirked softly smacking her ass softly, rubbing it with his palm afterwards.

“S’too warm n’ was too sensitive” Y/n whimpered rubbing her thighs together desperately, her face tucked away from him. “Sensitive? Why?” Henry asked confused, he hasn’t seen her since two days before the wedding for tradition, unless she had played with herself like she wasn’t supposed to.

“S-Stephanie brought me to get my private parts w-waxed” She whispered not knowing how he’d react, looking at the gown which had now pooled around her freshly painted toes, hearing nothing but his breaths starting to deepen. “So my pussy, is bald?”

Letting out a giggle at his stupid words Y/n stepped back a bit, doubling over in a giggle fit as he simply chuckled and smiled back. “What? Im serious, let me see my bald pussy” He smirked stepping forward, his eyes travelling down to see the bush that was usually on her mound, was now fully gone; instead showing off her soft smooth looking skin.

“Jesus baby, did ya do it for me?” His finger came under her chin so their eyes could meet, his lips coming closer to press a small kiss to her chin. Her hands holding on tightly to the waistband of his briefs, her lip held tightly beneath her teeth. “Yeah, wanted to be pretty for you!” She said naively smiling up at him, showing off all her beautiful pearly whites as she batted her lashes at him.

“So sweet, but you’re already so sweet n gorgeous sugar, s’just an extra present for me huh” He nuzzled his cheek against hers as he slowly walked her backwards towards their now shared marital bed, filled with new cotton sheets and velvet blankets to keep them warm during this harsh winter.

“R-really ya think so?” She whispered as he crawled on top of her, gasping as he left kisses all over her neck and chest, his lips tugging and licking at her pebbled nipples. “Oh baby trust me, I know so” He growled moving downwards to come face to face with her wet centre.

An excited smile coming onto his face as he nuzzled his face into her smooth pussy, lightly kissing its lips almost as if it was her mouth.

“s’smooth honey, still miss my woman’s bush though” He smirked keeping each hand on her breasts, his nose nudging against her engorged clit teasingly, breathing in her vanilla scent. “ill keep that in mind for next time b-bear” She whispered nodding her head seriously, Henry loved how his wife would do absolutely anything just to keep him happy, and he’d make sure she was looked after.

“Course you will sugar” Henry said more to himself, dipping his tongue in between her sticky folds, humming as he tasted her sweet self on his tongue. Not even giving her a second to adjust before his mouth is ravaging her centre like crazy, causing her upper body to sit up, her thighs clamping onto his head to keep his mouth on her. “T-too quick, oh-oh my” She whimpered out meeting Henry’s icy blue eyes, noticing the darkened lusty look in them, telling her he was nowhere near done tonight. He spat right onto her mound, making it shiny and slippery with his tongue before delving back into her hole again

Feeling her hole clench around his thick tongue, he pulled it out, giving her pussy one last tongue kiss before crawling over her; a smirk on his face as he watched her whimper and whine out. “Gotta love on my favourite pair of lips” He whispered against her lips, kissing it softly, the wetness on his lips transferring onto hers and letting her taste herself.

His tip was already prodding at her wet hole, his body knowing hers like the back of his hand. Remembering all the times he had taken her in the back of his truck, during a picnic, at the drive-in cinema and of course right on their front porch.

“A-ah” Y/n moaned out feeling Henry slowly start to inch into her extra sensitive pussy, his rough pubes scratching onto her newly waxed skin. “So sexy baby, my sweet wifey” He moaned bottoming out inside her, his heavy sac smacking against her rear softly. Wrapping her hands around each bicep Y/n felt hot tears build up in her eyes, Henry’s nestle of curls had rubbed against her clit, his balls had slapped her pussy and his fingers were toying with her nubs.

“F-feel you everywhere, I love it” She gasped out hanging her head back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her mouth sat agape. The tip of her tongue found itself being sucked by Henry, his mouth needing to taste her even more, he was addicted to her. That’s why he needed her, just as much as she needed him.

“Now that you’re my wife, gonna make sure you’re full of me every single day sugar, ya like that? Have ya walkin’ around our cabin drippin like a broken faucet” He growled letting go of her tongue, his mouth directly whispering the filthy things into her ear, in turn her moans were echoing in his. Her nails scraping against his back while his hips smacked into hers, her pussy being slapped continuously simultaneously.

“Fuck your pussy is going to make me cum sugar, your sweet honey pussy is going to make your husband cum” He said almost whimpering, his thrusts growing erratic and rough as he clawed at the sheets by her head, her own voice sore and hoarse as she squirted all over his messy cock.

“S-squirted?-“ Y/n looked down shocked, an embarrassed look on her face,

“Maybe this bald thing is the way to go then huh?” Henry teased before thrusting one more time, his hips still slightly grinding against her poor clit as his cum spurted in waves inside her cavern. Both of them breathing out tiredly, Y/n peppering Henry’s face with kisses, muttering out small words of ‘i love you’ ‘you deserve some kissies’ ‘my husband’

“Aw baby lemme give you a kissy since you love ‘em so much” He smiled rubbing his lips against hers, his fingers cupping her jaw enough for her mouth to pucker open, his tongue licking into it lewdly before spitting into it. A smiley look on Y/n’s face as she hugged him to her chest, giggling and squeezing him tightly, a sense of love overfilling her. Only letting go once she realised that Henry had actually fallen asleep, her big hibernating bear

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @tinyelfperson @athena-roy @fdl305 @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @princess-paramour @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @sparklemarysunshine @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @aerangi @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @diyabhanushali1 @spencerreidat4am @keiva1000 @acornacre @ninasw0rld @ggmimitf @teti-menchon0604 @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @grxnde-dwt @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @imahallucinationnn @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @kimm4710 @esposadomd @kaydesssssssss @morenoc @HcavsCevans

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x wife!reader #henry cavill x short!reader #henry cavill x shy!reader #lumberjack!henry cavill #henry cavill x you

[dreamescapeswriting]

Smutober Day 1 ~ Formal Wear Namjoon [M]

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

GENRE: established relationships, minors DNI, formal wear, pauper x prince, cunnilingus (female receiving) slight public play, almost caught

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - Smutober 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

"Put it on," Namjoon chuckled as he watched you closely from across the other side of the room and you giggled a little shaking your head at your boyfriend. There was no way you were about to put on a crown that probably cost more than your house ever would. The two of you were currently being held inside of the throne room while you waited for him to be announced to the rest of his party, You weren't supposed to touch anything inside of here and he knew that.

"No. It's too expensive, besides, we have to be downstairs for your party," You reminded him but he rolled his eyes at you, kicking himself away from the wall he had been leaning on and making his way over to you. He'd been watching you ever since you walked into the room and you'd been looking at the crown that would - eventually - go to you once the two of you were married and he wanted nothing more than for you to try it on.

"I'm the prince and what I say goes," He teased, wiggling his brows at you as he took the crown off the pedestal and held it in his hands. The thing sparkled as he held it, it was a silver crown made up of diamond roses and diamond leaves, It was fit for the most perfect of Queens and you could never imagine yourself wearing it. No matter how much Namjoon reminded you that one day it would be yours, you'd never feel right wearing it. It just didn't seem like your kind of thing...None of it did. Not even dating a prince and yet here you were, engaged to be married to one. 

You rolled your eyes at him as you did a curtsey, holding the edges of your dress as you did so and bowing down your head to him dramatically.

"I'm sorry Your Royal Highness but I simply can't put on that crown, for we can't be late to the ball." Namjoon chuckled once again before placing the crown on top of your head, a gasp escaping his voice as he saw how you looked in it. He'd always imagined you in the crown, or maybe another if you ever wanted to redesign it but this was perfect for you, you were perfect for it. 

You were stunning, beautiful...You were all of those things before of course but there was just something about seeing you in a formal gown and a crown that was sending him wild. He let out a small cough when he felt his dick growing harder inside of his pants, god, he felt like he was suddenly 14 again and couldn't control himself.

"Oh Joonie," You cooed stepping closer to him and placing your hand over his crotch smirking a little as he closed his eyes,

"Does seeing me look like a princess turn you on?" You whispered seductively, softly massaging your hand over his dick and smirking as he bucked toward your hand. Namjoon let out a small growl as you slowly sank down onto your knees,

"A real princess would never kneel before someone else," He stated before standing up and walking you toward the throne where he would be sitting in less than a week as the King of his country.

"Joonie, I'm not a princess..." You trailed off as he sat you down on the edge of the throne and sank down onto his knees, he lifted your gown up a little chuckling to himself.

"What if someone walks in?!" You asked in a slightly panicked tone, though the thought of it was turning you on all the more.

"Your dress will cover me." He shrugged it off as though it was the most casual thing in the world for you to be sitting here when in fact, you could have been imprisoned or worse if the wrong kind of people came to find you here.

"And if they ask why I'm sat on your throne?" You arched a brow at him but he simply met your look with a smirk,

"Hmm, maybe you should tell them I'm sucking your clit and they'll leave us to it." He winked before disappearing under the confines of your dress making you squeal out a little and cover your mouth. The last thing you needed was for his bodyguard to walk into the room right now and ask what all of the noise was about. Before you could say anything else your legs were hung over his shoulders as he dipped his head between your thighs,

"F-Fuck, Joonie," You whined out as he began to devour you like a man starved, sucking on your clit as he thrust his tongue deep inside of you, you could have sworn your vision was going to blur as you whimpered out his name. Your hands found the armrests of the thrown and you dug your nails into the cushioned grip. Your head rolled back against the headrest as you slowly ran your hand down to where his head rested under your dress and you pushed him closer to you, trying to get him deeper.

Something that was so wrong should never feel so right, you thought as you continued to rock your hips toward his mouth, moans slipping from your lips as you forgot just where you were sitting and who could walk in.

"Don't stop," You veered as he continued to fuck you with his tongue, your hips rocking a little against his face as you moaned out loudly. There was a slight tapping on the door and your whole body burnt as you stared over at the door, almost panicked about whoever it was walking inside.

"Prince Namjoon?! Is everything okay?! His guard asked from the other side of the room, Namjoon pulled his head free from under your dress while thrusting two fingers into you and curling them at your g-spot.

"Perfect! Thank you Carlos." He called out before going back to work, sucking hard on your clit as you wriggled against the chair trying to move away from him until your body spasmed and your orgasm erupted inside of you causing you to cry out in intense pleasure.

"Who knew my Princess would have a thing for almost getting caught?" He moaned out, pulling himself free from under your dress and straightening his outfit out.

"M-My turn," You whined standing up on shaky legs and pushing him down onto the throne but before you could return the favour for your earth-shattering orgasm the doors opened.

"Prince Namjoon, Princess Yn, they're waiting for you," Carlos called out making you glare down at Namjoon who simply chuckled, letting his guard know the two of you would be right behind him.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @laylasbunbunny @tinyoonsblog @whitefoxgirl @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @minhosify @choisoorin @straykids5star @heyjiminnie @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @btsiguess-kpop @halesandy

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts smut #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #namjoon smut #kim namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon imagines #kim namjoon smut

[abbysdruidess]

˜”°•.˜”°• headcanons about you and abby's wedding - modern au •°”˜.•°”˜

wc: 1.1k

warnings: wedding w modern au(obvs), crying, tooth rotting fluff, allusions to sex, no use of y/n

a/n: lmk what you guys think of this one and whether you'd like more of reader and Abby in this universe! don't hesitate to send any requests<33

this is sort of on theme with a previous fic where abby proposes to you, this one can be read as a standalone though:))

❦ after the proposal, you guys hurrying too much to get the wedding off the road and on the rails- you're still extremely proud and giddy to call each other your fianceé, and you've sent about 100 pictures of your wedding ring to everyone.

❦ it isn't until one night where you're having dinner over at jerry's that he brings up the wedding preparations and you're like oh shit, you two kinda need to haul ass and start sending invites.

❦ you decided on a small affair, only your immediate families and close friends over. I imagine that in the insistence of your future brother in law Lev you sent out RSVP invitations that were ocean themed with cute little sharkies on the front that say in a vast ocean of people we found each other(💀). A lot of people found them pretty funny though, and Lev was pretty excited about them.

❦ on par with the beach theme of your engagement, you decided to have the wedding on a beautiful beach resort in the beginning of June-not too hot, not too cold;)-with the ceremony and the reception on the shore.

❦ of course, you couldn't leave out the bachelorette party! You and Abby travel to Vegas with your respective friend groups for a weekend of clubbing and partying in general. And lets be fr, someone from either of two groups ends up getting lost and you have to recover him Hangover style. Thank God you didn't arrange for it the day before the wedding.

❦ the days before the upcoming event are mostly a blur, both of you making last minute arrangements about the food, the flowers, the music. Your gown with the final adjustments is delivered and you have to hide it in a fridge box in the basement so Abby won't take a peek.

❦ "But baaabe, I just wanna see what it looks like! You know this stuff about bad luck isn't actually legit." "I know, but it will be more exciting to see the final look at the wedding. I promise you."

❦ finally the big day is here! And let me just say, as a very emotionally constipated person, you'd probably be a little teary eyed all day long. When you put on your gown and look at yourself in the mirror and realise that holy shit, I'm about to marry the love of my life, my Abigail, she wants to spend the rest of her life with me. And this just hits you all at once and a few tears run down your chin.

❦ if you have any wedding traditions from your culture that you'd like to honour, Abby would be 100% down for it. It makes her feel closer to you, and part of the new family she's going to be in. She also really likes listening to its origins and what it's supposed to represent. In my country, we do this thing where the wedding squad writes all their names down in the couples' shoes and by the end of the night whoever's name is the most smudged is the one who's going to get married first. Let's be real, if they did this, it'd probably Manny whose name had almost disappeared and he'd freak the fuck out.

❦ once you're ready to walk down the aisle, and you glance at Abby you let out a small ᵍᵃˢᵖ at the sight, with Abby dressed to the nines and a glowing expression on her beautiful face. Her mouth also formed a little O at the sight of you, ready to become her wife, looking so so happy and a slightly teary eyed.

❦ during the actual ceremony, you two keep stealing glances at each other, smiling kinda goofily like :]. You two are goobers fr.

❦ for the vows, I think the game establishes that Abby is a big bookworm, so she chooses something perhaps from Emily Bronte or Jane Austen. Of course this isn't the entirety of what she wrote, she just finds it more accurate to express her love for you through someone's else perfectly adept words.

❦ once the reception kicks in, you're carefully wiping tears from your eyes so you don't smudge your makeup, and take some photos with the wedding party on the beach. You're accepting everyone's congratulations for your newlywed status, and settling down to prepare for your first dance.

❦ you had decided on dancing to Por Una Gabeza, and had actually rehearsed the slow tango a couple times so your movements are synchronised. By the end of the dance, you're in each other's arms, cheek to cheek simply enjoying the moment.

❦ by the time you've finished you meal, the party is in full swing, and you join in for a few dances until you decide on a cake break and allow Yara to be Abby's dancing partner. By the way, your wedding cake? Exquisite, chocolate ice cream with strawberry.

❦ I also imagine you guys doing the whole tossing the bouquet thing and -surprise surprise!-it ends up on Manny's lap on accident. He almost leaves.

❦ by the night, you're both clinging to each other, ready to resume your lives as Mrs and Mrs, and also ready to break into the bridal bed. Seriously, you can feel Abby's fingers feeling up your thigh and she's been whispering the things she wants to do to you all night. By 2 in the morning you're home, very much exhausted by the preparations and the emotional high, but also very ready to let Abby peak what's under your bridal gown.

❦ for wedding gifts to each other? She hands you two tickets for some exotic island you guys always talked about going, and make it your honeymoon. You get her an antique vinyl record player, because she had always been going about getting something to listen music to while cooking. Needless to say you both love each other's gifts:D

❦ a week or so after the ceremony you receive the photographs, and Abby makes it her duty to hand them on every corner of the house. Seriously, at some point, you could see a photo of you two in your field of vision pretty much about everywhere.

❦ her favourite one remains in her desk, one where you two are about to leave, sweaty and drunk, the camera capturing your musky faces as you sit on her lap clinging for dear life. It's so sweet and endearing, and it reminds her why she married you in the first place.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson fic

[darklydeliciousdesires]

La Dolce Vita - John Shelby/Cosima Changretta (OFC).

So, I decided to begin this new little series of mine, besties. It shan't be delivered in regular chapter form, but a series of one-shot parts that will tell the story of John and Cosima's marriage, beginning from their wedding day. I hope you enjoy it :)

Words - 3,682

Warnings - Each part will be adult only content, from swearing to eventual smut and violence. Minors DNI.

Part I - Inferno

The blood of a thousand men could stain a thousand streets, cold, hard warfare spinning out of control in a haze of spatter and gunpowder, yet sometimes all it took was the presence of a woman to end it all. 

And it had.  

It didn’t mean the woman in question had to like it, though. 

“No.” The word fell from his lips with mild irritation as he took in the sight before him. “You will not wear black.” 

Cosima didn’t even attempt to hide her distain. “Why not? This is a death, after all.” 

Luca couldn’t help but feel entertained by her words, even though she was rapidly whittling him down to his very last nerve. “You are so dramatic, la mia sorellina.” She always had been. “It’s about time you were somebody’s wife, and you will make a good wife, too. Every man betrothed to an Italian woman should recognise how damned lucky he is.”  

“And me?” Her cadence rose sharply, her voice bordering on shrill. “What about me, Luca?” 

9:23am and already, he wished he’d had the sense to bring some aspirin with him. “You will do as you are told, Sima. And wear white while you do it.”  

The silky drawl of her brother never rose beyond the smooth hush he spoke with, but his words packed the same punch as they would have had he yelled them. He was also the only person alive who she allowed to shorten her name. People had called her Cos in school, swiftly ending up with a slapped face for it. Her Italian fire had been lit pretty much since the day she’d been born. “I wish I’d brought mama with me now.” 

His lip curled, a soft rumble of a laugh echoing his throat, sucking on the matchstick he pulled from between his lips as he pointed it at her. “We both know why you didn’t.” 

“Yes,” she chirped, admiring her reflection in the mirror, “you’re paying.”  

Again, she prompted his smile. Few did, really, save Anna Maria, his wife, as well as his sons, Joey and Guiseppe. “I am, cara mia. Listen, if you want the black dress, I’ll buy it for you. You won’t be married in it, though. Imagine if mama was here, eh? She’d be, ah, much more vocal than I about it.” 

This was true. Audrey would have taken over rather than sitting quietly like Luca. “I’m beginning to think she’d fuss much less than you.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Try on the next dress, for the love of god.”  

Huffing and cussing in their native tongue, Cosima flounced back behind the privacy screen, getting herself out of the dress, the nearby assistant helping her into the white lace gown. Her face was a picture of utter contempt upon emerging, raising her middle finger when Luca quietly applauded her appearance. 

“Perfect.” 

“I fucking hate it,” she sneered, the assistant’s eyes bulging a little at her coarse language. 

“Cosima, you would hate even the most exquisite of gowns, crafted by the finest of designers,” he pointed out, standing and walking to her slowly. He reached beneath her chin, raising it up, placing a little kiss upon her forehead. “You look beautiful. La belladonna. It is done.”  

His word was final, and she knew this well. It did not mean she had to be quiet or graceful in her compliance, though. Being wed to a Shelby, after all they had done, the war that had seen the deaths of both her treasured brother and beloved papa, was not a fate she relished in.  

Negotiations in order to cease the bloodshed and forge ahead in a new bond, running Shelby gin into New York with the assistance of her family and their connections had been sealed by a proposed joining of their families through marriage. Her marriage, to John Shelby.  

How she had screamed and complained when Luca had informed her of this truce sealing union. Glasses and ornaments had been smashed in tempestuous fury, Cosima’s ire reaching the kind of decibels that had taken Luca and Audrey much effort and nips of gin to quieten, the youngest of the Changretta clan storming from her mother’s home, walking the streets, chain smoking in blind fury.  

The only silver lining? At least Luca had not decreed that she marry the man who had killed her father, not that she actually could. For his sins, Arthur Shelby breathed no longer. Neither did Grace Shelby, nor Esme Shelby, the late wife of the man soon to be her husband, the gypsy beauty getting in the way of a hit meant for John on Christmas Day and lamentably not surviving it.  

And Cosima thought her hand dealt was bad. For John, it was decidedly bleaker by far.  

His brother was gone, his wife was gone, his sister-in-law was gone, and his fate was now bound to a person belonging to a family whom he couldn’t stand with any ounce of tolerance. Tolerance was what he had to show, though, in order to keep relations smoothed over, before anybody else ended up dead.  

“It’s a fresh start for us all, John boy,” Tommy began, standing in front of his brother, straightening his tie. “I don’t expect you to be happy about it, but...” 

“Good, ‘cos I ain’t,” he cut in with, his jaw tightening, refusing to meet his brother’s eye. “Esme is barely fucking cold, and you’ve got me marrying some wop bitch. Trust me, Tom. I ain’t fucking happy in the slightest.”   

The elder Shelby truly had no comeback for that. He knew his actions were a slap in the face to John, to Arthur, to Esme and to the love of his life, but there was no other way around it. He didn’t plan on losing anybody else to a war that could be negotiated through. It had been tough to bargain, but peace had been restored finally, Tommy reasoning that scores had been settled upon both sides of the divide.  

They were more than even. In fact, they truly weren’t, two lives on the Changretta side, three on the Shelby, two innocent women coming into the crossfire and dying because of it. He was not prepared to lose more. If he could also turn a very tidy profit while not losing more, then so be it.  

Finally, he managed to catch the icy stare of his brother, Tommy squeezing his shoulders. “Give it time. At least you’re getting wed to an attractive woman. Could have matched you to a right scrag, but I didn’t.” 

She could have been the queen of fucking Sheba for all John cared. Her beauty or lack thereof was neither here nor there. She wasn’t Esme, and that was all there was to it. “Gotta habit of this, you have, marrying me off to some bird I ain’t ever clapped eyes on until I get to the altar, all for the sake of keeping the peace.”  

There hadn’t been an actual altar at his wedding to Esme, but this time there was no room for negotiation. The priest local to the district Cosima Changretta lived in had been given a hefty bung to marry them, regardless of the fact that John was a non-practising Catholic. Usually, Father David would have required he at least attend weekly mass for a few months prior to the wedding, but this wasn’t possible when the union had been set up to take place within the space of a week from its original incarnation. 

Through his disesteem, John wasn’t blind to see the benefits of joining the families in order to broker peace, though. He just wished there was some other way, one that didn’t involve him forsaking his late wife’s memory, or literally getting into bed with a member of the very family who had taken three members of his. 

With a red rose buttonhole pinned to his charcoal suit – those specific flowers at Cosima’s request – they headed out to the waiting car, ready to be ferried across Birmingham to the district of Bournville, to St Francis of Assisi. 

“Holy shit, the waft of that bloody chocolate," Polly spoke from the back of the car, the famous Cadbury factory emitting the heady scent of it’s delicious confectionary. “Making my mouth water, it is.” 

“Well, as long as the air smells like Dairy fucking Milk, all’s right as rain, ain’t it, Pol?” John muttered, watching the little black and white houses dotted along the main road pass them by. It was such a different landscape than the one he was used to, the village of Bournville so very picturesque and quaint.  

Polly tutted. “Oi, less of your fucking lip, our John. Don’t make today any harder than it has to be by being a surly shit about it.”  

“Yeah, but...”  

She cut his protests dead with her usual blunt retort. “We know, for the love of god! You’ve vented your spleen so hard at this, I’m surprised you have one left! This isn’t ideal, but it’ll bring us peace and let me rest my fucking head easy at night, not worrying when the next of my fucking nephew’s is going to end up riddled with bullet holes. Now, put your fucking face straight. We’re nearly there.”  

He could have begun his protests once more, vented at how it wasn’t right that he was being thrown into wedlock again just four months after his second wife had died, how at thirty years old, he shouldn’t have already had to attend the funerals of two Mrs. Shelby’s, but he knew it would serve him little good.  

Arriving at the church, they made their way inside, John surprised to be greeted kindly by Audrey Changretta, who was standing talking to the verger.  

“A lot of water has gone under the bridge, John. All I want going forward is for you to be a good man to my Cosima. Can you do that for me, love?” 

His heartstrings were yanked upon hard, knowing how much his actions had devastated her. She looked weary from it all, the sparkle in her eyes non-existent. He’d never wanted her to be hurt in all of this, the teacher he held so many fond memories of, the woman he had steadfastly refused to murder in cold blood. “I can. I promise I will.”  

She patted his cheek, smiling thinly. That smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and for that he couldn’t blame her. “Thank you.” She exchanged nods with Polly and Tommy, the Shelby’s moving into the church, smiling to their family and friends as they passed the pews, the Changretta presence outnumbering them by about two to one.  

He and Tommy stood to the side of the altar, Polly taking a seat at the first pew between Finn and Ada, the latter giving the groom-to-be a bolstering smile. It had little of its desired effect, John feeling a cold swirl of discomfort growing chillier by the moment. “Forgive me, Esme. I fucking wish this weren’t happening just as much as I wish you were still here, love.”  

His deeply lamenting thoughts were banished by the sound of the organ keys pressed upon, the church filling with music as the congregation stood, Father David quickly shaking both his and Tommy’s hands before his focus shifted towards the doors, beaming as he watched Cosima escorted in by her brother. The bride looked exquisite in her white lace gown, her cascading veil shrouding her face, the dress very quintessentially Italian in fashion. 

John didn’t dare turn around and watch her walk to him, only aware of her arrival at his side from the strong plume of Chanel perfume entering his nose, finally turning to see Luca gently lift her veil, kissing her cheek and whispering a few words in Italian to her. He then moved to John, surprising him by offering his hand.  

“To famiglia, eh?” 

“Yeah,” he coughed, shaking it. The Italian’s grip was like Iron, his face unflinching. There was no true warmth there. “To family.”  

Luca moved to sit at his mother’s side, John finally letting his eyes fall to his left, taking her in for the first time. His throat tightened in an instant. He’d thought Esme to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, the guilt of the fact that Cosima Changretta was the biggest knockout he’d ever witnessed hitting him hard.  

As for his soon to be wife, when her piercing blue eyes found his, the sensation of her heart skipping on three consecutive beats made her feel a little nauseous for a moment.  

He was gorgeous.  

Why did he have to be gorgeous? It would have made hating him so much easier if he’d been ugly.  

“At least I will have something nice to look at, while I’m throwing plates at his head.” She thought, turning to the priest and smiling as best she could, given the circumstances.  

The ceremony was a long, tedious affair, the bride wishing for a traditional mass that bored the balls off John. He did well to hide it, though. What he failed miserably at was looking in any way, shape or form happy when they were pronounced man and wife, offering her a chaste kiss to the cheek, a speedy peck of non-affection. Cosima was relieved he hadn’t leaned to her mouth. She wasn’t ready for that yet.  

Taking his arm, she walked back down the aisle as the newest member of the Shelby family, her eyes sad as she looked at her mother and brother. They smiled at her with loving pride, Cosima dropping her chin, lest they see the tears in her eyes as she walked alongside her new husband, a man she couldn’t stand. True, she knew nothing of John Shelby, other than what he’d had a hand in taking from her.  

With every step, she had to physically prevent herself from gathering the bridal lace swathing her slender curves and running, back to Acacia Road, back to the family home. This was where she desired to be, out in the flower filled back garden tending to her roses, taking cuttings of herbs ready to be brought into the kitchen and tutored by her darling mother in everything from Carbonara to baked Ziti. 

She longed for the scents of her mother’s pasta, to hear her father’s key in the door, his whistled tunes filling the homestead as she’d wipe her hands upon her apron and run to greet him. Her papa, the man she loved and respected the very most. Gone.  

“You erm, you look beautiful, Cosima.”  

His face did not match his compliment, Cosima looking up at her new husband, her face stony. “I know. Shame my dream wedding didn’t come with the dream groom, though.”  

John sniffed, his eyebrow tilting a fraction. “Ahh, you might still get it yet. We can get divorced and give it another go with other people. Who knows? I could nail it lucky the fourth time around.” 

Her eyes widened. “You’ve been married twice before?”  

“Ar.” 

“And what the blinking hell happened to them?” she demanded, wondering just what her brother had gotten her into, marrying her off to a man who was on his third wife. 

“They died, if you must know,” he frowned, reaching the end of the aisle, the door opening, a cascade of confetti hurled at them from the throng of guests exiting behind them. 

“Lucky them.” Her mutter was drowned out by the sound of happy cheers, or at least she thought it had been. Her new husband had heard it, though, wanting nothing more than to slap her in her rude mouth for her coldly delivered statement. 

“Great, got myself hitched to a stunner and she’s a right nasty little mare.” he spoke, certainly loud enough for her to hear, releasing the hold upon her arm and moving to receive congratulations from his family. Cosima narrowed her eyes at him in his wake, turning to smile brightly at her friends, her hands taken in theirs, cheeks kissed, her heart thrumming with waves of sadness. A right nasty little mare. That’s what he thought of her, Cosima’s indignance burning brightly for a while, not able to reflect upon the fact that what she’d said had indeed been very spiteful.  

At twenty-three, she truly should have known better. With two dead wives behind him and a bitterness that still lingered beneath the surface between the two families, she guessed he was likely as thrilled to be married to her as she was to him. An apology perhaps wouldn’t go amiss.  

Once they’d posed for a few photographs, the bride and groom were shown to the waiting Rolls Royce Silver Cloud, John holding the door open for her, following her in and staring stonily out of the window as they pulled away from the church.  

She felt awkward and ashamed of her words, moving her thumb back and forth over one of the large thorns the florist had neglected to remove from the bouquet of red roses. “John, I apologise for what I said, about your late wives being lucky. I only meant that... I don’t know what I meant, actually.” 

She was met by a cold, two worded statement. “Fuck off.”  

Deserved, to be fair. Predictably, Cosima let it spark at her kindling rather than rushing for water, though. “That’s impossible, now I’m your wife. Don’t bloody pout at me. I said something regrettable, but because of your family I don’t have Angel or my father any longer. You yourself are directly responsible for the former. If you hadn’t beaten him within an inch of his life, he wouldn’t have lay vulnerable in hospital, ripe for the plucking. And let’s not forget that scumbag of a brother of yours, who killed my papa.” 

He tutted, chewing his toothpick with hostility. “Don’t act like you’re the only one who lost somebody you loved. Fucking gone right over your head, ain’t it? Because of your family, I lost me wife, brother and sister-in-law. We’re in the same boat, Cosima.” 

“You started all of this. You could have just let Lizzie be happy with Angel, but no! You had to burn his restaurant to the fucking ground. What is it you dumb Shelby fucks say, hmm? By order of the Peaky Blinders, that’s it! Your way or the highway!” 

Bile began licking at his insides. “Your brother weren’t good enough for Lizzie. She’s a good woman, and he was a fucking duplicitous shit. Didn’t even have the balls to use his real name for half his dealings. At least we stand by who we fucking are.” 

Her rage escalated by the second, staring at him incredulously. “My brother had the sense to be clandestine, and you will not speak of him like you knew him! So, he partnered with your enemies, so fucking what? The way you Shelby’s conduct yourself, you make enemies left and fucking right! You took my family away from me for nothing. Nothing!” 

John eyed her viciously, his eyes losing any trace of warmth. “They fucking deserved it, and you, you spoiled little wop bitch? You deserve nothing less than every fucking ounce of my contempt. We’re married in name only, believe me. Ain’t no way I’m gonna be a good husband to you, no matter what I promised your mom.” 

“Fine by me!”  

The air virtually crackled with their mutual distain, Cosima shuffling as far as she could get away from him, muttering cusses in Italian. 

“I know what testa di cazzo means,” he spat. 

“Good!” she fumed, “I want you to know I think you’re a dickhead!” 

The reception was being held at a small hotel local to the church, Cosima storming out of the car and not looking back, fixing a huge, fake smile to her face as she was welcomed by the staff. Immediately, her eyes locked onto a waiter carrying a tray of champagne filled flutes, taking one and knocking it back. A second was reached for, John arriving at her side.  

“Whiskey please, mate. Fucking large one.” 

The waiter nodded. “At once, sir.”  

They stood together to welcome their guests, both repelled by one another’s presence, going through the motions of everything. Cake cutting, first dance, spending as much time as they could away from one another. It was while John was seeking the solace of quiet and fresh night air much later that evening, standing on the rear patio of the hotel smoking a cigar, that he found himself joined by the last person he expected. 

“Can I give you some advice, John?” 

Turning to Luca, he raised an eyebrow, the tall Italian continuing. “If you want a quiet life with my sister, you need to keep her in the lifestyle she’s become accustomed to. I love that girl to her bones, but she’s a fucking spoiled princess.” 

His eyes widened. “You can say that again.” 

Luca’s mouth twitched, removing the toothpick he’d been idly chewing on. “My father bent to her every whim, being his only daughter. She was daddy’s little girl. Roses, diamonds, furs, French perfume, she loves all of that. You treat her good and she’ll be sweet with you. And make sure she has a garden. That kid lives for horticulture.” 

Luckily, he was wealthy enough to provide such luxuries for his new bride, not that he wanted to. Not that she deserved even one of them. “Noted.”  

He nodded, turning to leave his new brother-in-law to it, pausing suddenly as he pointed the toothpick in his grasp at him. “Oh, and John? She’s got a thing for hurling plates. Learn to duck.” Laughing to himself, he carried on back into the hotel, while John felt a prickle of annoyance at his statement, or rather how much pleasure he’d derived from delivering the news that Cosima was nothing short of a bad-tempered handful.  

Standing out there alone, he did hope that one day he might see her as something different. Whether that day would come swiftly or not was anybody’s guess, though. 

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby x ofc #peaky blinders fanfiction #luca changretta fanfiction #john shelby smut #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #john shelby x oc #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic

[sailorshadzter]

just some jonsa because i MISS THEM.

Lost in the depths of her own mind, oblivious to the conversations happening around her, she wonders if things could have been different… Or if in the end, things would have turned out exactly the same.

She looks up and across the room their eyes meet, over the dragon queen’s shoulder. She’s seen this look before; smoldering, wanting, longing. But quick as it comes, it’s gone, his gaze returned back to those darting, violet eyes of Daenerys Targaryen, his ears listening to the words falling from her plump, frowning lips. A sigh escapes her, she cannot help it, as she returns to her own companion: a single goblet of spiced wine. 

The room is warm and full of laughter, but she finds she’s anything but happy. They had won, it was true, they had lived through the long night to live another day… yet… Another sigh and she drowns her goblet, pouring another before someone can come her way. The Night King was defeated and the war against the undead was won, but she wonders at what cost, considering all that they had lost. The thought of Theon is enough to dampen her eyes and she steels herself against the pain, against the heartache, hoping that with one more swig of wine she might leave it all behind.

Then, just like that, there’s eyes upon her once more. 

He cannot look away, no matter how hard he tries. She’s lovely in that scaled gown, her red hair twisted back in her ever familiar braids. He longs to run his hands through the red lengths, as he’s done before, the silky strands soft between his fingers. But… He’s kept from her side, laughing with Tormund and the others… Occupying the dragon queen... Every moment he spends without her is like a lifetime of despair. 

With every glance her way he hopes she might understand, that she might hear his silent pleas, that she might even just spare him a passing glance from across the hall. And then, to his delight, she’s looking his way, the goblet of wine she holds steady at her lips. “Jon…?” Daenerys questions, turning to follow his line of sight, frowning when she sees Sansa there at the head table. “Lady Stark certainly looks beautiful tonight,” she comments, turning back to Jon with a smile she must think will placate him… At least for the time being.

“She does,” he’s barely breathing, the grip on his heart she holds twisting something fierce. 

If only things could be different. 

[ x x x ]

When it’s hours later and he’s alone in his rooms, the knock comes, making his heart skip a beat. The dragon queen had already come and gone, so he cannot imagine who else would come to him at such an hour. But, he rises up from the chair he sits in, crossing the room to open the door, revealing to him the one person he wanted to see most. “Sansa,” he breathes, his lips curving with the smile he’s been dying to wear all night long. Her own lips curve with a smile, hesitant as it was, as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “It is late,” he observes and she winces, cheeks flaming as she glances over her shoulder, as if she thinks she might find someone hovering just behind her. “I thought you would be abed by now.” He goes on, realizing his mistake as she turns back to face him. 

“I could not sleep,” she admits, though she’s still fully dressed in that scaled gown.

“Nor I,” he says, taking a step back so she can slip inside, the door falling closed behind her. 

They’ve been here before, of course, standing in strained silence, both of them wondering just what the other might do next. Always torn between what was right and what they wanted more than anything else in life. “So…” She says softly, wringing her hands before her, blue eyes glimmering in the firelight that dances behind her. “We are alive.” For once in her life, she had believed with an utmost passion that things would turn out fine- Jon had never once let her down before, so she believed in him more than she believed in any god or man. “We are alive because of you.” 

Jon thinks for a moment he might open his mouth to argue- Arya had been the one to deal the final blow, after all. But then he thinks better of it, for despite his humble nature, he was the one who sailed for a foreign land to meet with a foreign queen to ask for help. And he knows better than to argue with Sansa. “Aye,” is all he says instead, watching her closely as she takes a single step closer to where he stands. She’s so close now that when he inhales, he catches her familiar scent: rosewater and lemon. “Sansa… I…” His hand reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, the softness of it reminding him of all the nights they spent together in the days before he left for Dragonstone. “I’ve missed you,” softer still, fingertips trailing the curve of her cheek. He has missed her while he was away, certainly, but he’s missed her while he’s been home, trapped in a world where his only role was keeping the dragon queen on their side. 

She smiles, her one hand outstretching to press against his chest, so against her palm she can feel the steady beating of his heart. “I’ve missed you as well,” she whispers, coming closer now, so close that when she lets out the breath she’s holding he can feel the warmth of it against his lips. “You know… Everyone in the castle spent what they thought would be their final night alive with who they loved most… Except for me.” Jon’s breath catches and he’s sliding his hands into her hair, uncaring of the pins he’s knocking loose. “So I thought I might spend my first night celebrating survival with him instead.” 

When her lips find his, he’s sinking into it, having never wanted anything more. He’s longed for this moment for so long now he cannot remember a time where he wasn’t wishing to kiss her, to hold her, to spend every last moment with her. “Sansa!” He gasps when he pulls free simply so they might catch their breath, laughing, grinning, brimming over with the joy and love he’s kept inside for all this time. “I have wanted this for so long…” He whispers and she’s smiling once more, tilting her head back to look up at him in a way she’s never done before. “Far too long.” She nods, for she feels the very same way. “This is what you truly want?” He thinks of the truth he knows and she doesn’t, wondering if it’s wrong of him to keep it from her even now, but she’s nodding and her arms wrap around his waist, warm and gentle. Suddenly it all makes sense, suddenly they are exactly where they’re supposed to be. For one single night, they could forget the world around them- no war, no titles, nothing but the two of them. 

Nothing but love. 

And so he’s the one kissing her now, drawing her in as close as he can, relishing in the warmth of her body against his own. He’s wanted this for so long now, since perhaps those earliest days back at Castle Black, when she had been little more than a ghost of who she used to be. Every moment had brought them here to this very moment, the place where they were always meant to be, even if it had taken all this time. It was worth it, every moment without her, every moment of fear, of sorrow, of pain, simply so they could end up where they were now. 

A short while later, when she’s tucked beneath his arm in his bed, fast asleep, Jon knows that this moment was worth waiting for. That this one single moment was worth everything it took to reach it and that no matter what happened after this night, he’d never give up on what he felt for her. He would love her like this until his last day, until his final breath, no matter what the world around them might think. 

He leans in, pressing a kiss against her temple, before he settles in beside her, content on staying there forever if the world just might allow it.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #my writing #i wrote this

[daisydaisybilly]

when all i want is you | part two | c.b

pairing: Colin Bridgeton x gn!reader

summary: you and Colin now married spend a day in Italy

warnings: just fluff

word count: 500 ish

a/n: this took an embarrassing amount of time to write but I finally felt like writing so here! This is kinda short, I wanted to keep it happy but might revisit one day. This is also the third day of uploading in a row, will it continue or will I not write for the rest of the year?

requested@helen06dreamer: Hello! Can you please give us a second part at the 'when all u want is you'? Please 🥺

You can find part one here

The smell of fresh bread filled the small room in Italy, they sighed a breath of comfort pulling the bed covers around them as they sat up in bed. Beside them, Colin was still fast asleep, his back bathing in the warm morning air.

Tiptoeing they moved across the room, throwing on a dressing gown and stepping out onto the balcony. Below them most of the local people and tourists were already going about their days. The ring on their left hand glittered in the sunlight.

“I’ll get you a better one once we return to London” Colin said from behind them, he wrapped his arms around their waist and rested his head on their shoulder.

Still holding their hand out they exhaled, “I can’t imagine there ever being a better ring than this”,leaning back in his chest.

The wedding was perfect even if it was just the two of them, the vicar and two local people to bear witness, it was nothing like the rich and lavish weddings the upper circle of London had. But to them both it was the finest wedding anyone living and dead had ever had.

He held his new spouse and rocked them, “what do you say to visiting the Tower of Pisa?”. They turned to face him and kissed his cheek.

“We should bring a picnic, like we would in Hyde park”

Colin held onto their hand the whole way, growing tighter as the crowds grew. It was truly a beautiful day. Many people, tourists and locals had also chosen that day to visit the Tower of Pisa.

Colin laid the blanket onto the floor and helped them sit down, a smirk rose. “I could get used to this treatment”. Colin kissed them, a rush went through them. The freedom to kiss him without worry was intoxicating.

“Wait until we return to London” he said, laying down with his head in their lap. They went on to play with his brown hair.

“How will we even explain? Both our families would have the news by now.” They said worriedly.

“We’re married now and that can’t be undone. Certainly not after last night” he laughed. They laughed too, playfully hitting his chest.

“We ran away. I was my Aunt's heir and you’re a Bridgeton! The rumours will be impossible to escape” they said.

“So we never return?” He asked.

“Even if we don’t they would just find us” they sighed. He sat up and kissed them again.

“What about a life on the run? We changed our names and live free?”

They raised their eyebrows, “neither of us can live without our comforts. Sallow as it is, I like my life and I don’t want to live anything else”.

He put himself back into their lap, “thank god. I regretted the words the moment I spoke them” he smiled shyly.

“What would life be like then? Back in London” you asked.

“Our own home, we could stay in the summer house” Colin suggested. “Parties every week, tea on the lawn, days in bed without a care in the world”.

“Summer tours each year” you grinned.

“So much to see so much time”.

“And I get to spend it all with you, what could be more perfect?”.

#colin bridgerton #Colin bridgerton fanfic #Colin bridgerton fanfiction #Colin bridgerton x reader #Colin bridgerton x yn #Colin bridgerton x you #Colin bridgerton x gn!reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #Colin x reader #Colin x yn #gn!reader #fluff #bridgerton fluff

[chrollohearttags]

I have a question about Musician! Eren and Y/N. What was their wedding like? Thanks

so I definitely feel like somebody asked me this before and I never got around to answering it but to simply put, it would be one big, giant house party!

now, they of course would go the traditional route with the ceremony, vows, inviting their friends and family..all of that. Of course, being the way they are, everything would have to be lavish and luxurious. So (y/n) would have a beautiful gown..something out of a fairy tale with a twenty inch long train that has to be carried. Because hello, you’ve been waiting your entire life for this moment. It would be hand sewn, custom made and costing in the upper thousands but worth every red cent. On the day of the ceremony, as you’re getting ready, you’d open a box with the words ‘To (y/n) inscribed on the top. Once you open it, it’s a beautiful hair clip, given to you by your grandmother; the woman who raised you..along with a handwritten letter. She had long since left this world but she saved that in case of the day that you’d become someone’s wife. She wanted to be with you on your special day, even if not in person. What made it even more so special..is that you figured it had been lost forever but your sweet Eren had tracked it down and made certain that it got to you before the big day. It took everything in you not to cry and ruin your makeup. You knew you were marrying the right man. The colors would probably be something along the lines of white and lavender or a beautiful burgundy. The bridesmaids dresses would be equally as top tier because you wouldn’t want your girls looking less gorgeous either. I feel like Eren would have the flyest suit known to man. Like some royal type shit..he’s about to get married to the love of his life? Best believe he’s putting that shit ON. From the diamond watch, the embellished shoes…everything. His boys aren’t looking any old way either. Everybody looks good as hell. As for the venue, it’d be stunning. Butterflies and beautiful scenery decorating the walls, light strewn everywhere and it’s a whole production. I feel as though there would be a film crew..not so much to televise but make sure every moment is captured and edited into a beautiful package later.

the song you choose to come down to is Back At One by Brian McKnight because it’s one of the first he ever did a cover too and you loved it.

the ceremony goes on as usual and let me say, when he sees you walking down the aisle,on your uncle’s arm..that man loses his mind. He’s crying before you can even get to him and you can’t hold it together when you see his face. This is literally the best day of his life. When you two finally join hands, it’s like no one else in the room. You can’t stop smiling at each other. When the pastor asks if anyone wants to object, he gives a side eye, wishing that somebody would and everybody starts laughing. “That’s what I thought. Continue, pastor.” When it’s time to read the vows, not a dry eye is in that building. You guys give the most beautiful, heartfelt confessions of love to one another that anyone has ever heard. The way he describes you is like perfect poetry. “I was never much into praying..feeling like there’s no way God would ever listen to a sinner like me. I didn’t deserve it. But I imagine when he created you, he had to hear my heart and know that you were everything I could’ve ever wished for.” No one’s ever spoken about you like that and you tell him just how much he means to you. How he is the best thing that ever happened in your life. “I never knew a love like this one even existed. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way about one person.” And he’s literally crying. Everything goes on and when the officiant says to kiss the bride, he pulls your veil off and tongues you down in front of everybody. (No shame).

the rest of the ceremony is amazing. From the first dance done to a song he recorded just for you two where he held you close to all of your friends telling embarrassing stories about the two of you. (and they’re on yalls asses because what else would besties do?) but they know that no two people deserve more happiness than you guys. After all these formalities are done…that’s when the fun begins!

by 9PM, all the parents, old folks and kids gotta go because it’s like LIV on a Saturday night. Bottles coming out, a DJ and it’s up. You and all the bridesmaids start throwing ass and the groom and his men are glad to catch it. None of that boujie shit! Half a million on this wedding, best believe y’all are showing out. Giving him a lap dance to Big Ole Freak to everybody dancing to Faneto by Chief Keef. It’s crazy. It’s so much fun and y’all are having a ball just like you did when you were best friends. It’s like an entire movie and you can’t believe you get to spend the rest of your life with someone who constantly makes you smile. Y’all party until the early AM and then it’s time for the honeymoon!

#black fem reader #aot x black reader #black reader #musician x influencer au #musician eren #musician au #aot au #attack on titan eren #eren x reader #eren x black yn fluff #eren x black fem!reader #eren x fem!reader #eren x black y/n #black fanfiction #eren x black reader #eren jaeger x black fem reader #eren headcanons #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren imagines #their wedding pics would definitely go viral #i love these two

[vigilskeep]

festivals of thedas!!

five major holidays are celebrated all across thedas "from tevinter to ferelden", tied to the transition of seasons. (they are generally in the andrastian tradition, and have links to tevinter culture considering its widespread imperialism and influence.) i'm going to talk about what we know from the lore and also what i think the real world inspirations are, but i'm not the most knowledgeable person on that specifically, so if anyone has extra contributions especially for the latter, or thoughts of what their own cultural background might bring to some of these, i would love that!!

first day is celebrated, naturally, on the first day of the year! in the january equivalent month of wintermarch/verimensis. on this holiday, you visit family and neighbours, which in remote areas was once literally just an annual check that everyone was alive. there's a town gathering to commemorate the past year, with drinking and merriment, of course. celebrating the start of a new year is one of the oldest traditional holidays in the world. i might compare the tradition of making visits to scotland's 'first-footing' on hogmanay (new year's eve), where the first person who enters a home is a bringer of fortune (and gifts!). in scotland it should specifically be a dark-haired man to ensure good luck, but there are similar practises in other places with different standards

wintersend is a festival for the end of winter, celebrated at the end of the february equivalent, guardian/pluitanis. originally called "urthalis" and dedicated to urthemiel, old god of beauty and the archdemon from dao, it now celebrates the maker. i would imagine for both it stood to thank them as the bounty and plenty of creation returned to the world. we have some information on how it varies between regions. in the south, it is a day to gather, trade, arrange marriages, and attend theatre. in tevinter, it marks great tourneys and contests at the proving grounds in minrathous. nevarra, too, has "particularly grand" wintersend tournaments.

summerday (you begin to see how creative these names are) honours, you guessed it, the beginning of summer, celebrated at the beginning of may, or bloomingtide/molioris. apparently universally celebrated as a time for joy and marriage, which may explain why it was once called andoralis and sacred to andoral, old god of unity. time for those marriages the southerners arranged at wintersend to be celebrated! but most specifically, it's the day for coming of age. there's no details on at what age this occurs, and it may vary across thedas, but on summerday boys and girls wear white tunics and gowns in a grand procession to the local chantry to be taught the responsibilities of adulthood there. so most characters raised andrastian probably went through this! lots of cultures have coming of age celebrations but i'm not super familiar with them personally as my own is lacking, so i would love to have other people's takes on what else this might involve and if you see any similarities!!

funalis is now much better known in thedas as all soul's day, since after the first blight its original associations with dumat, the old god of silence, became rather unpopular. it's now spent in sombre remembrance of the dead. in some northern lands (i would expect this to be mainly acceptable in tevinter), there are parades after midnight where the people dress as spirits, which sounds so fucking cool, by the way, WHAT does that look like in the cultural imagination. in the south, it memorialises the death of andraste, with public bonfires to mark her death on the pyre, and religious plays depicting the events. all of this is obviously influenced by the real world all souls' day, a christian commemoration of the departed on 2 november, and i suspect visuals of the mexican day of the dead are being called up for the parades. however, funalis is actually celebrated at the start of august/matrinalis, which is equivalent to... you know... august. thedas gets an early start on spooky season i guess? for the southern andrastian stuff i would look at the history of miracle plays and catholic festivals

lastly, satinalia is a holiday accompanied by wild celebration, the wearing of masks, and naming the town fool as ruler for a day. it was once dedicated to zazikel, the old goddess of freedom, but is now more attributed to satina, thedas' second moon. this is very obviously linked to the ancient roman festival of saturnalia, which involved a similar switching of roles for the day, with slaves having the banquets and freedom of speech their masters would normally enjoy, and the rules changing for the day on how dress indicated rank, potentially including mask-wearing. you can see why the goddess of freedom was relevant. it's also been connected to later traditions like the british 'lord of misrule', which could be an influence too! there are many other festivals of masks to look to, as well. satinalia is celebrated at the beginning of firstfall/umbralis, which is november. in antiva, it last for a week or more, while a week of fasting follows. in others, it's marked by large feasts and the giving of gifts.

these are the festival days celebrated in all of thedas (in andrastian culture, at least), and there are likely many more regionally. for example, there's a delightful page in world of thedas vol 2 outlining all nevarra city's entertainments throughout the year, including ancestral pageants of the dead in the autumn, and winter styles of dance that mimic dragon hunting featuring armoured dress and fluttering red cloth, likely inspired by the pasodoble's mimicry of bull and matador. every place and culture in thedas surely has their own, and their own variations on the shared festivals above

i would loveeee if people included these more in their thoughts and fics and hcs. let your beloved characters get engaged at wintersend and remember their coming of age on summerday and dress up for parades!! pls. for my health.

#zevsurana academics #as requested!! :D

[shelby-fangirl00]

Empty Spaces-Part Three

Part Two

Warnings: Smut, language, cheating, age-gap (Enjoy!)

Word Count: 2028

‘Would you like me to help you with your necklace, Mrs. Shelby?’ You asked as she smoothed down her new evening gown she brought back from London. You couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked. She was a vision. You secretly envied her strong features, her long legs and her small frame. She seemed to just ooze elegance and confidence. You were quite the opposite of her. So much shorter than she was. You weren’t thin like she was; you were fuller and thicker than most of the women your age. You tried to imagine what you would look like in that gown, but a dress like that couldn’t possibly fit, let alone pulling it off as well as she did. They didn’t make fancy dresses for women your size. The emerald sequence on her long gown glimmered as your thoughts raced. 

‘The gold one, yes.’ She said as she fiddled with her hair in the mirror.

You turned to the vanity to grab the polished necklace. As you crept up behind her to place it over her pretty pale skin, Tommy came into the bedroom. 

‘Here, I think I can handle this part?’ He sighed out as he strutted towards the both of you, taking it from your hands. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, hair slicked back perfectly. He looked more than gorgeous, as usual. Your breath hitched as he snatched the necklace, not even bothering to look at you. 

You stepped back and gawked at them a little too long. As he clipped the necklace in place, his hands fell down her shoulders and arms, seemingly admiring her through the reflection in the mirror, like you weren’t even in the room. Like he hadn’t just fucked you senseless only a few feet away from where you were all standing. You felt like you might be sick. 

‘You’re dismissed, y/n.’ Mrs. Shelby’s voice rang out harshly. Quickly walking to the door, you glanced up at Tommy. His face was snuggled into her neck lovingly. She giggled at his burst of affection from behind you. As you shut the door, you practically fell down the stairs and out the front door. Once the fresh air hit your skin, you tried to calm the heavy breathing. 

That was fucking uncomfortable! You thought to yourself. You laughed, shaking your head. Did you really think a man like that would give a damn about a random maid he fucked one time? God, you felt like a fucking fool. He’s married. You reminded yourself. You felt so naïve for thinking that this would be more than just a one-time thing. 

You huffed out and slumped against the bricked wall on the side of the house. You reached for a cigarette under your stocking, lighting it with a match. Tommy and Mrs. Shelby were going to some fancy party tonight, thankfully. The last thing you wanted to do tonight was serve either of them. 

‘Could I bum one from ya?’ Francis said as she came to stand beside you, pulling out her small golden lighter from her dress pocket. You smiled at her, reaching for another cigarette. 

‘’course, Francis.’ 

‘Are you feeling alright, love? You look so pale.’ She said, studying your expression with squinted eyes. 

‘Yeh, just a rough go of it today, no worries.’ You said quickly, avoiding her eyes. You fidgeted with the fabric of your skirt. 

‘hoping she’d be gone for good this time, yeh?’ She giggled out as she puffed on her cigarette. 

Your eyes widened in surprise and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Of course, she knew what was going on. You were stupid to think this hadn’t happened before. 

‘How’d you know?’ 

‘I know everything that goes on here at the Arrow House, dear. Even what you and Mr. Shelby do in the shadows.’ She stated matter-of-factly. She didn’t seem angry or upset, she seemed curious. 

‘It all happened so fast. He’s…well he’s as charmiing as they say.’ You giggled.

‘Oh, I’m sure of it!’ Francis proclaimed. 

‘Just thought I had more time, is all. I don’t compare to her beauty. Must have been a moment of desperation for him.’ 

Francis turned to me, gently squeezing my shoulder in her frail hand. 

‘She is beautiful, yes. The moon is beautiful too, and so is a rose or a rainbow. They are all completely different, but no less beautiful. You’re beautiful too, inside and out, dear. It is a rarity to be both.’ She winked at you before flicking her cigarette out into the grass. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as the words comforted you. Nobody had ever said anything so kind to you. 

‘Oh Francis, you’re too good to me.’ You choked out, wiping away your tears. 

‘It’s only the truth dear.’

The Shelby’s had been gone for a few hours now, and you didn’t expect to see them again tonight. Francis had dismissed you from work just minutes ago. You walked yourself towards the shared bathroom. As you stripped off your uniform and jumped into your long nightgown, you couldn’t help but wonder what they were both doing in the moment. Were they getting along now? It seemed that way when they left. They’re probably out having a great time, enjoying each other’s company, as they should. They are married

You shook your head at your pathetic thoughts. 

Just as quickly as you opened the door, Tommy’s body was shoving you back into the bathroom with him. He pressed his hand firmly over your mouth to keep you from yelping. He placed his finger over his lips, signaling for you to keep quiet. Your eyes widened in shock and confusion. His face was inches away from yours. 

His scent and presence were overwhelming, intoxicating. A part of you was so relieved to be near him again. Another part of you was terrified that his wife could catch him at any minute with you.

Inches from yours, he studied your demeanor. His hand fell from your mouth. His eyes rested on your parted and pouty lips. That crooked smile nearly made you melt into a puddle. 

Pushing your hair back from your neck, he leaned in and whispered, ‘I’ve been thinking about your tight little pussy all evening’ His hand traced over the curve of your body lightly. ‘Can you keep quiet?’ Sending a shiver down your spine. You rubbed your legs together needily at his words. You were aching so badly for him. You shook your head yes a bit too eagerly. 

His mouth hungrily kissed down your body, holding your hips in place as he lowered himself. You couldn’t help the small moans that tried desperately to escape each time his lips made contact with your skin. 

When he reached your waist, he bunched up the bottom of your dress to your belly. The air was cold on your skin, but his warm hands lit you on fire instantly. 

‘T-Tommy wait…’ You tried to strain out. His blown pupils fluttered up to you. He tilted his head in question, not bothering to stand up. 

‘Tommy…you’re married…w-we shouldn’t be doing this…I feel so fucking guilty.’ You whispered breathlessly. He stiffened at your words, his hands freezing on your waist. He chuckled to himself before slowly standing up. He was so close you had to crane your neck to look in his eyes.

His hands held onto both sides of your cheeks, lifting your head up even more.

‘Please don’t feel guilty for the choices I make, y/n. Our relationship is far from saving and that has nothing to do with who we are both fucking. Alright?’ He spoke to you so softly, comforting you.  

‘But…this morning…you seemed so happy? You whispered, looking down at your feet in embarrassment.

The widest smile spread across his face as he lifted your chin up to look up at him. ‘Do you want me to go? Because your body is telling me something else, love.’ Just as he said the words, his hand slid up your thigh so softly, sending goosebumps up your legs. As his hand traveled up further, his eyes never left yours. You both let out a small gasp as his shoulders raised and his hand reached into your thin panties. You were so fucking wet, it was embarrassing. 

‘Shiiiiit.’ You moaned to yourself, letting your head fall onto your shoulder. You sucked in a long breath. Your chest rose and your peaked nipples poked through the fabric of your nightgown. The sight of you forced out a low groan from Tommy. 

His fingers quickly found your swollen nub and drew small circles. As he did so, he pushed your thighs open, giving him better access to you. 

His chest was heaving over yours and you steadied yourself on his shoulders, gripping them tightly. You felt his tendons moving as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His circles became quicker in pace, making you shake. 

‘Fuck, I need to be inside of you again.’ He panted out, letting his forehead rest on yours. His words egged you on. The burning in your stomach was bubbling up, you didn’t know if you’d last much longer. 

His fingers lowered from your clit, finding your swelling hole. Without warning, his two fingers pushed through slowly. Your hand gripped the back of his freshly shaven head. He used the bottom of his palm to rub against your clit and you nearly lost it. 

You could feel Tommy’s cock throbbing against your stomach through his pants. 

Tommy knew you were close from the way you were breathing and the way you were clenching around his pumping fingers. 

He grabbed the back of your head, forcing you to look at him. 

‘Fuck Tommy…’ You barely whispered. 

‘Come. Then I’m gonna fuck you right here against this sink.’ He panted as his fingers pumped at a relentless pace. 

You sucked in another breath and came hard all around him. Just as you started to come undone, he sealed his lips over yours forcefully, cutting off any sounds you could make. You whimpered into his mouth, forcing a groan from him. Your legs were shaking madly and his arms pulled you against his chest. He was indulging in every movement and sound you made just for him. Fire shot through you and you nearly screamed out. 

Before you could even think straight again, he pulled his fingers out of you and lifted you up on top of the sink. His hands reached and ripped your panties down your thighs. He marveled at the sight of your red and swollen mound. His eyes flashed with lust and he smiled devilishly at you. 

He quickly unbuttoned his pants to only free his aching cock. Feeling brave, you pulled your dress up to rest on top of your breast, exposing every inch of yourself to him. 

He pushed your thigh up and over to spread you open for him. As he did so, he lined himself up with your dripping entrance. You watched your bodies connect as the head of his cock finally slipped inside of you. You both let out a long hiss. Inch by inch, Tommy slid inside of you and your walls trapped him in. 

‘Finally…’ Tommy muttered to himself as his eyes fluttered shut. He found a steady pace inside of you. You watched in amazement as his usually tense shoulders and neck relaxed as he fucked into you so painfully slow. His face started to soften completely and his mouth hung open in pure ecstasy. Tommy looked completely relaxed as he fucked you deep into the sink. You locked your fingers together behind his neck as he held you up by your waist.

‘You don’t know how good you feel, love.’ He practically whimpered out. The sound of him completely undone inside of you made your walls clench around him.  

You were both so wrapped up in the bliss of the moment that you didn’t register the doorknob shaking. Banging was quickly followed after this. Tommy’s hand slapped over your mouth again as he froze in place. 

‘Tommy, I know you’re in there!!! Open the fuckin door!!!’ 

Part Three coming soon!

Taglist:

@lyarr24

@forgottenpeakywriter

@casa-boiardi

@tigernach575

@crabat-the-queen

@adaydreamaway08

@trixie23

@star017

@esquivelbianca

@aesthetic0cherryblossom

@thenattitude

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #cillian murphy

[moonmaiden1996]

Summoned Part Three

Discretion Advised 18 ++

Warning smut of minor characters.

In total, eight golden apples had been given, including your own. None of your fellow beings hung around, either insulted by their lack of an apple or not wanting to outstay their welcome. Lord Morpheus had not always been known as the most hospitable of Gods. For most it was the first time that they had be graced with a visit to the dreaming. 

Without the crowds, the palace was empty, isolated. In the distance, the vivid prairies of the Dreaming seemed almost magical, like the time before the first war and every so often, the winds would carry to sounds of the visitors, the pureness of humanity as it had once been. Yet it gave you no comfort. You were trapped out on the edge of billions of dreams, trapped by wolves, vipers and vultures, ready to attack in one swift movement.  

After all, that is what you would do. You had been a Goddess long enough to know how it worked. The King wanted that; of course, he did; how better to discover his new consort than in a thinly veil battle between his chosen candidates. Why you, though? You prided yourself on your skill and knowledge but were humble enough to know you could not compare to the others. So why was it that you received one?  

The apple still tasted sweet in your mouth; even after a few bites, the taste lingered, swelling magic within you. Yet, trapped here, the apple seemed so insignificant. What use of magic against an Endless being? Before you might have used your cauldron to poison the whole court or to bring about the humiliation of some of the snobby upper-ranked Gods or Goddesses but being stuck here with the icons of war and nature was concerning. You had always prided yourself on surviving; it is why you were still here after all. For how much longer, though, was not certain.   

For the most part, you could cling to the outside of the group. It was not too difficult, the others had a way of demanding attention, and when the King graced the assembly with his presence, it was partially easy. Though he never spoke without good need, he seemed content to simply listen to the gushing's of the other deities. And they sort constant attention from the King.  

Tired eyes scanned the current assembly, all dressed in finery.  

Kratos was a figure you had only known by name before this; he was seven feet of God, his face a stoney canvas of cruelty, which certainly lived up to the rumours. Tonight, his outfit covered very little, it was a low toga, which left little to the imagination, but it dominated the room with his bulging muscles. Much to Indra’s chagrin. The King of Davas, Indra, whose dark skin glistened with the rain that followed him; his physical was not as impressive; yet his power made the skies shiver as he sent lightning bolt after lightning bolt into the air. Much to the dismay of the God of Sparta. 

Aphrodite was Aphrodite; even in her previous demised state, she still retained that air of beauty that allowed her a degree of trespass that no ordinary creature might take the liberty of. Olive skin shinning out against the baby pink of her gown, wrapped in a gold lifted crown, but now she had consumed the apple, she gave off a blinding shine, as was the shell she had been draped over. Which was dangerously close to the throne. You did have to give it to her, though; she had to position her just so that it gave her a rather wonderful outline.  

Next to Aphrodite’s shell Bastet, sat tall, will all the regal bearing which one would expect from a cat, slender and aloof, just as you would expect from a God of the Old Kingdom. Unlike their Greek and Roman counterpart. Bastet exuded royalty, much like the Spring Goddess Ostara.   

Ostara was the most well-known to you; after all, she had many guises, like most deities. She had been known as Eostre and often sorted the knowledge of the cauldron from you or your mother. That was after she had been Persephone, of course. She had finally become sick of Hades and his many nymph lovers, Leice, Minthe and, of course, Theophile, the stupid girl who claimed that Hades loved her better than Persephone, which was the finally straw before she completely abandoning the underworld for life as her own goddess, as the Spring Equinox.   

To see all five of the supreme gods together made the remaining choice all the more questionable. They at least had carved a mark on humanity; they had prestige, power and a pedigree. The rest of you did not.  

Spriggan was the strangest choice, stranger than you; they had spent their entire life in the remote lands of the British Isles. It preferred to peak out from one of the pews, and closets to the King, never talking, just watching.  A tree spirit that was neither man nor woman or at least gave the impression of it. Moss covered its skin, making it impossible to tell its age; wizened like an old man or woman, but what skin you could see was smooth like a child.  

Like you, Puck lingered at the side, or as many knew him, Robin Goodfellow. His dark, mischievous eyes darted from side to side as he strummed lazily at his lute, occasionally stopping to tune the strings.  You had been travelling through the pit of desire that had become London when you stumbled upon the sprite teasing Shakespeare. You had been friends; you even helped him make his name with a simple one of your potions. After all, how better to immortalise yourself by putting yourself in a play by the bard himself and becoming the epitome of fairy kind. That had been before he betrayed you. 

You really wished Puck had kept his mouth shut. Perhaps he wished to deliver you some favour with the King, or perhaps he saw this as an opportunity to direct the other god's attention away from himself and onto you so he could make his move. Either way, it would bring you no end of trouble. You did not like how the burning eyes of Lord Morpheus fell on you so intently they seemed to pierce right into you, more so the way the others glared at you.  

"... it's true...little witchy, tell them it's true," Puck giggled as he twirled around, the material of his ridiculous costume fluttering in the air around him.  

You bristled at the nickname. Narrowing your eyes at this little fiend as he twirled around you.  

"...did the fae really trick this John Dee to allow another man to bed his wife and father her children?" Bastet's voice purred, whiskers twitching in the air.  

"He was only meant to pretend to let the pompous old fool believe he was talking to the angels... but like always, Puck took it too far." You hissed as the fairy pirouetted away.  

"And the meany witch put a stop to it...but I got you back! Did I! I got you back good." You hated the child like glee that filled his voice.  

"If having me hanged as a witch class at that." you snapped.  

"Hung by humans...how quaint." Bastet perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched, amused.  

"That's not the best bit, Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble..." he cackled "I made her and her silly cauldron the centre of Shakespeare's best plays."  

"And in doing so spread the propaganda that condemns many.' You snapped.  

'So, a few little humans died. They breed like rabbits, kill one, and seven more take their place."  

‘’A few....’’ You growled. 50,000 people, men, women and children burned, drowned or hung. 50,103 to be exact. 

‘’This is boring,’’ Aphrodite pouted, ‘’can't we have music? I adore dancing; Fae plays something! I wish to dance for My King."   

The eyes shifted and you were forgot once again as the music filled the air and Aphrodite began to sway. Enticed b the way her hips shimmed. All eyes except Ostara’s, who abandoned her seat to stand next to you. 

"Nicely played, but don’t think this aloof fair maid act will get you somewhere. But it will not work. Watch yourself; those here will not hesitate to get rid of a little thing like you. Watch your back, little one."   

Xx   

The gathering had long since broken up. Ostara's warning, or threat twirled over in your mind. Puck has put you in a stupid position. A dangerous one. One that made walking the halls alone a night dangerous. If they are though you a threat, one that could be easiest gotten rid off, your life would be in peril. But you had grown tired of staring at the four walls of your rooms. You did not want the companionship of the others, not that there was any to take, especially with Ostara and Puck seemingly disserting you. Puck, you could understand, but not Ostara; she had been once your surrogate mother.   

"Good evening, My Lady." the familiar pleasant tone cut through the silence.   

The dark skin elf from the gather stood at the side of the hallway dressed in the same immaculate dress suit. Buttons polished to a soft gleam. The flower still pinned in their buttonhole. 

"What are you still doing here? Will not the King be annoyed that you have not departed with the others?"   

You were aware that some of the Gods had disappeared into the Dreaming to revel in the pleasure of the place a bit longer, but if the King found an unwanted being still lingering in the castle, there might not be a pleasant outcome.  

"I fear he will be even more annoyed if I leave, My Lady; I am Lucienne, the chief librarian and guardian of the Dream realm. Forgive me; I should have introduced myself earlier but did not wish to trespass on the gathering." She smiled.  

Now that was something unexpected. Many creations graced the place, attending to the gods that currently had taken up residence. But not one that was trusted enough to be a Guardian. Now that might be useful information.   

You returned the smile. "You still wear my flower. Has it bloomed yet?"  

"Yes, my lady, it is rather beautiful, and I cannot bear to take it off."  

Pride blossomed within you; you had made it yourself nurtured, tended it, till it was just right before picking it. It was appreciated.   

'Well, with such praise, I hope it inspired you."   

"Indeed, My Lady...it inspired me to start my own account of the King."  

Information that was defiantly intriguing and could be helpful. Any information on the King could make the difference between making it back home or being scavenged for a bit from the vultures that circled above.  

"I am glad; perhaps you can tell me about it again. I do so enjoy seeing the fruit of my inspiration." Even more, if they get me out of here.  

"While you're here, My Lady, could I tempt you to a book? The library is just down the hall, and it has been years since I have had a visitor."  

"I would be honoured."  

xxxxxx  

When you returned to your room sometime later with a book. The missing Shakespeare plays seemed worthy of your reading and apt.   

The leather creaked as you opened the page, your eyes finding the formed ink before a moan halted you. It was not the haunting noise of the wind. Instead, it was gruntal, deep and masculine. Waiting, you heard it again, this time longer, louder, tilting you heard as you listened intently, other noises now filling the air. You knew those sounds, the deep moaning, the rhythmic thud of skin, the groan of furniture bending to the force of thrust.  

Staring out of the balcony, it was dark, as it often was at the palace; even with the shining white stone it was made of, it was hard to decipher where one body ended, and the others started. Your view from your room was obscured by the thicket of ivy clinging to the balcony column, but you could see enough, the giant frame of the Greek god, face twisted in pain and pleasure as he was being pounded from behind. The dark locks of the King Morpheus were just visible in the light. There was another, maybe, it was so hard to tell, thin arms of women, maybe even a sprite, dipping between the two male bodies, roaming and squeezing, and from the shuddering roars that filled the space, they seemed to know what they were doing. As in jerked the God of Strength back and wrapped slender fingers around the thick cock that swayed in the air, jolting with every thrust of the slender but powerful hips of the Dream Lord himself. 

You knew something like this was going to happen. This was very bad. Very. Very. Bad. Gods were jealous beings and power hungry. If the others found out, there would be bloodshed, or God forbid Kratos, and this other being saw you. It didn't even bare thinking about.  

The slick sound of flesh slapping against flesh jolted you directly into the eyes of the Dream King himself; how long the King had his eyes set on you didn't know; his eyes had this strange ability to not be on you but see right through you. His eyes stared across the balcony to where you stood behind the pillar. They were bright but different.... paler somehow than usual.  

His thin lips curved up at the side as his moonlight fingers curled around the thick hips of the Greek God, jolting his back against him, allowing the King to push him down, shoving the war-beat face down and renewing his thrusts with an almost punishing vigour. The muffled cries of the Kratos were all you could hear, and the simpering sighs of the other who wrapped tight around the King’s shoulder as it sucked on his neck.   

You gasped at the sight. Gulping as the eyes shone across at you, you waited for a second for something to happen. You are to be smitted or thrown into the waking world for trespassing on something so intimate. Yet, nothing happened. Instead, the smirk grew to near wolfish proportions.  

Cowering back, you fled down the hall and did not stop till you were safely away from your rooms, but not from those glowing eyes that followed you. 

So what do you think? Got to love dark Morpheus playing games :P I know not everyone is into MxM but I only wanted to use it in this one chapter so to showcase the ambiguous nature of the Gods. Hopeful it was okay. More smut next chapter to come for the reader... maybe ;)

As always please let me know, your comments make my day.

Also- Claiming his Queen fans keep your eyes peels for an epilogue update....

@crispyduckpirate @musemaniac42 @aralezinspace @boofy1998 @cipher-needs-2-sleep @avatar4eva (couldn't tag) @sassenach-the-pie-maker @ella33 @suszanne @ladyredstar1991 @alexander-arcturus-black @maripositanoctruna @xushisuxi @imaginovator @dotieeee @honeybeezgobzzzzz @cryban6 @lonelyladyghost @isitstilldarkout

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #the sandman #dreams x reader #darkmorpheus #king of dreams #netflix sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless

[unlesshouse]

More Than Everything

Mother!Rhaenyra Targaryen x daughter!reader

Headcanon of what it would be like if Rhaenyra Targaryen were your mother.

A/N: Something cute that I dedicated my whole heart to for you guys, just to make it clear that if there are mistakes in writing, know that I don't speak fluent English, so forgive me for the mistakes below.

Well... enjoy and I really hope you like it!

As Rhaenyra's only girl child, you would be spoiled brats before you were even born.

The news of Rhaenyra's pregnancy was announced at a rare gathering between her family and her father's; Viserys Targaryen.

Viserys's wife, Alicent Hightower, reacted with disdain as for her and her children another child that Rhaenyra carried did not make much difference in their routines.

Rhaenyra didn't care much about her stepmother's reaction, for her, her father's support, her husband's love and her children's sweetness when they learned of the new child's arrival was enough.

When the sex was informed, Rhaenyra Targaryen was infinitely happy because she wanted you to be a girl, in addition to asking the gods that you came into the world healthy and without complications at birth.

Your birth was the longest and most laborious of Rhaenyra's life, she has had a total of five strong, healthy boys but never before has she worked as hard to push them out as she has with you. However, with a lot of effort and tears you were born, kicking and crying as if the world was going to collapse right there you came and in good health.

The woman took her in her arms, feeling the relief of her pain and the happiness of a more than proud mother. Rhaenyra Targaryen had felt the warmth of her little body in her arms and that feeling of joy and love overflowed in her chest, she swore to protect her with her life if necessary.

Her first years as the little princess of the house had been the happiest of her life. Rhaenyra had named you after one of the governesses of the seven states of Westeros; Visenya Targaryen.

You grew up wearing the finest and most beautiful gowns that your father, Daemon Targaryen, bought just for you. She spoiled you as she spoiled her sisters; Rhena and Baela. Daemon hired painters to color his room the richest shades of pink, from rosé to pink. He also insisted on learning how to build a tree house by hand without needing help from a trained employee just to spend time with you, because that was what you asked for with the most pleading eyes of the doe in the world.

Rhaenyra had never seen her husband build something from scratch, coming from a privileged family she never imagined that Daemon could fulfill her tastes and build the tree house exactly as you asked.

When you were six years old, you accompanied your mother when she needed to go shopping. Not that Rhaenyra liked going out to do chores that clearly an employee of her family could do, but she imagined that moments together with you would be marked in her memory forever.

She always dressed you in clothes from the color charts that matched hers. She liked bold, dark colors, like a purple or crimson blaze and tight black skirts. You wore little purple or lilac dresses and when Rhaenyra wore scarlet red you wore strawberry red.

Rhaenyra always thought it was cute the way you asked her for anything, your mother adored you and never denied you anything. At a picnic where Viserys and Otto Hightower agreed to invite the whole family, Viserys' wife didn't hold her tongue and criticized Rhaenyra's misguided parenting "After so many children and you, dear, never learned to be firm and set boundaries Your daughter?" In one simple sentence, what was supposed to be a fun trip turned into a turbulent exchange of barbs between Viserys's wife and his eldest daughter.

Rhaenyra decided to return home ahead of schedule, picking you up in her arms and moving away from the woman who was looking at her with a lot of contempt and coldness in her gaze.

As the years pass and you get older, Rhaenyra worries about your sudden mood swings. After turning sixteen years old, you started to wear shorter and more provocative clothes, go out without permission and come back when you wanted, spend Daemon's unlimited Amex card on useless things and get involved with bad people. "I'll talk to her, Daemon, no need to worry." Rhaenyra reassured the man who was dangling his right knee impatiently and completely irritated by her actions. "You better talk to her, or else I'll have to impose punishments that you and she won't like."

her mother tried to convince her to change, as much as she sees her own adolescence in you, she sees that also imposing limits has to be necessary. Her words were more than reproachful, Rhaenyra wants her well more than anyone else in the world, so she advises her only daughter of the consequences of her actions. "The dragon's blood runs in your veins as it runs in mine, but we are women, our consequences are crueler, the world is crueler to us. Think about this carefully if you don't want to take the worst path."

Rhaenyra lets you see with your own eyes the alternatives you should follow, she is not controlling and wants above all that you make your own decisions on your own. She will guide you to become a strong woman, but she will also allow the credit to be completely hers.

With age, problems that were once trivial are now more complex. There is the college and the path you must take. Rhaenyra will feel before everyone around her that you are different, she is more frustrated, more silent and serious. Her warm smiles at dinner parties are rare now, and she gets it. "Don't worry honey, Visenya is fine, it's just adulthood for everyone." Daemon said in a mocking tone one day when Rhaenyra commented on her recent concern about you, it was a brief conversation but it served as a lesson to her that only she could help her in her own little world.

Rhaenyra asked you out one night, she knocked on your bedroom door as you finished your studies and got ready for bed. "Mom, it's almost nine at night and I'm tired, I've studied all afternoon for exams so I'm going to decline your invitation." You said in a heartbreaking monotone Rhaenyra who sighed in the doorway and smiled sadly at you. "I know you're tired and the exams are close, I also know that you don't know exactly which way to go and if it's going to work to make us proud, but I love you regardless of whether you get into the best college in the country or not. You've never failed me and you never will, we're made to try and persist, fail countless times and that's what makes us human Now please let's dance, drink and think about it later, I promise I'll make this night for you the best of all, sweetheart."

The smile that formed on her lips upon hearing her mother's words was much more than sincere, it was genuine and warm. You loved your mother above all else, that was the only thing on your mind at that moment. "Okay, I will, but we're not staying all night, okay, Mom?" You warned her and she burst out with a hearty laugh at you, the lavender eyes characteristic of her family's ethnicity for generations shining like two amethysts. "It's up to you!"

The night was young and when you saw it, you were dancing next to your mother at the door of the house when she was trying to hit the key hole. "Is it difficult there?" You laughed still swaying as if you were still on the dance floor to make your mother lose her temper and let out a short curse word causing you to burst out laughing. "Come on, let me help you, granny." You scoffed taking the keys from her hands and Rhaenyra patted her shoulder jokingly scolding you laughing at herself too. "Respect me girl, who created you?" Her voice is slurred and you laugh even harder when the door opens. "You, Mommy." You reply still mocking like you did in the past when you spent more time with her.

Rhaenyra was laughing not just because of the alcohol but also because she hadn't felt this happy in months with her.

Days passed and you took the exams to compete for the best university in Westeros, the results came out and you went to check your email being accompanied by your mother, father and two older brothers who were anxiously awaiting the answer. "Well... I PASSED!" you screamed in ecstasy being grabbed tightly by Rhaenyra who lifts you into her arms in a tight bear hug. "I knew I could, how proud I am of you, my dear!" She whimpers and then you return the tight hug feeling all the emotions welling up in you "I love you mom, most of all..."

Not many more words were needed to describe the whirlwind of happy feelings you both felt, she knew you were grateful to her for all the years of companionship, friendship and dedication she had with you in your development, and you knew that she was very proud of whether you passed or not, she loved you unconditionally.

comment if you liked it and leave your like too, thank you so much for reading!

Tag:

#rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon #platonic #queen rhaenyra #team black #house targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #platonic!reader

[holdmytesseract]

Baby Fever - Part Three

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Loki are finally becoming parents! And suddenly the world just seems to turn around the tiny baby girl - especially Loki's. He only has eyes for her...

Warnings: So much fluff! Pregnancy, child birth, more fluff!

Word Count: 3,3k

a/n: Therefore, that we all love protective dad!Loki, I couldn't help myself but to write a third part. Huge thanks to @immersed-in-mischief for giving me the ideas! :D I hope it's what you imagined! ^^ Have fun, reading, guys! I hope you like it! :)

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirlbackup @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @acefeather2002 @jennyggggrrr (If you want to be added to one of my Taglists, let me know! :D)

Links to the other parts: Part One / Part Two

Find my Masterlist here! :)

Time was passing by utterly quickly. One day, I told Loki he was going to be a dad and the next, I was almost halfway through the pregnancy... That was how the passing of time felt for me - at least in the last few months. Now, it was... Well... The opposite. Time was passing too slow. I had reached my due date now almost a week ago - and I was so tired of being pregnant. I felt like a stranded sperm whale. Every time I said that out loud and Loki heard it, he would protest, shaking his head violently and saying things like: "My love... Stop saying that. You are the most beautiful woman in all the nine realms." Or: "You couldn't look more ravishing, carrying my child." Those words made me feel slightly better. Nevertheless, being this pregnant wasn't fun...

A knock at the door woke me up, my eyes fluttering open. I tiredly looked around, realising that the sun was already high in the sky above Asgard. Yep... Loki and I were on Asgard since I reached the second trimester. He insisted that I don’t have our baby in a regular hospital, but here. He thought it was better because of his heritage. Here on Asgard were some healers who had high knowledge of the Jotun biology - and well, who was I to complain? It was probably for the best. Who knew if the baby I was going to squeeze out of body would be an adorable small ice cube or not?

Another knock at the door made me release a groan. "Princess Y/N? Are you awake?" I recognised the voice. It was our personal maid, Kára - a very kind, young woman. "Yes!" I called out, clearing my throat. "Yes, I am, just give me a moment!" "Of course, Milady." My gaze travelled over to the side, hand searching for my husband - but his bedside was cold and empty. It was a thing he often did lately. Standing up and letting me sleep as long as I needed it. I rolled over onto my side, feeling a sharp pain shoot through my lower back and abdomen, causing me to hiss. Great, I thought. Barely awake and already blessed with agonising back pain and Braxton Hicks. I slowly tried to stand up - what had gotten a really difficult task by now. I didn't always make it on my own... What felt like eternity, I finally placed both my feet on the soft fur, laying in front of the bed with a huff. "Princess Y/N?" Kára's cautious, but worried voice echoed through the door again. "Is everything alright?" Another groan left my lips, when I stood up. "Yes! I just needed a moment to get up!" I waddled over to the chair, on which my dressing gown laid and slipped into it. "You may come in now!" Seconds later, the door to our chambers got gently opened and closed again, after Kára had stepped inside. "Good morning, Princess Y/N." Kára curtsied and gave me a soft smile. This was still so odd to me... People bowing down in front of me and calling me a Princess? Hence, I wasn't even a real Princess, neither Asgardian... I just was a normal mortal woman, who had married a God. "Good morning, Kára." I gave her a smile as well. "Please... I told you already... Call me Y/N." "Like you wish, Mila- Y/N." I gave her a friendly nod, but knew exactly how this was going to be. She would call me Y/N for a day and then return to 'Princess' and 'Milady', until I would tell her to call me by my first name again. "How are you feeling today?" The young woman asked me, while helping me to get dressed. I sighed. "The same like a few days... My back hurts, my feet hurt - everything just hurts. I am so tired of being pregnant. I just want to have my baby..." "I am sorry to hear that you are in pain. I hope the baby decides to come soon." I inhaled deeply. "I hope so, too."

When Kára had helped me getting dressed, she started to clean up our chambers. "Have you seen my husband, Kára?" "Yes. I saw Prince Loki earlier this morning. As far as I know was he on his way to the training ground with Lady Sif." Ahhh... He spent a lot of time on the training ground lately - what worried me slightly, to be honest. Loki was a fighter, yes, but he actually always preferred a good book over a sweaty fight training. So, I had asked him last week, after he had sauntered completely soaked in sweat back into our chamber. His answer was heart-touching; had me cry right then and there. "Why I spent so much time on the training ground? I want to improve my skills and techniques to make sure that I can protect you and our baby properly. Against every possible enemy." Honestly, I cried like a baby...

"Thank you." I would definitely pay him a visit later, but first, I needed something to eat. "I'll go, have breakfast now. The baby is hungry, I'm afraid." The young maid lifted her head, looked up at me. "Shall I go and bring you some breakfast?" I shook my head, smiling thankfully at her. "No, thank you. I need to move a bit." With those words I left the chambers and made my way to the dining hall - which took me several minutes, because I needed a break every few meters. The Braxton Hicks contractions didn't help either...

After breakfast, I decided to go and see Loki. It was not like I had anything important to do... "Lokes!" I called out, when I approached the training ground, waving at him when he saw me. He was currently kneeling over Sif, holding her down with his leg and aiming his dagger at her. But as soon as he noticed me, he stopped the fight and stood up, literally running over to me. "Darling! What are you doing here?!" His voice was laced with worry. "Shouldn't you be laying down?!" Loki had become utterly protective since I was pregnant. I loved it. It was super sweet - but sometimes it was a tad too much. "Calm down, babe, it's okay. I can't always lay down, so I thought I am visiting you." His worried blue eyes scanned my body, hands lifting to touch my baby bump. "Are you sure about that?" "Yes." Loki sighed, but leaned in for a kiss, giving me a smile. "How are you feeling?" He asked, while tracing his thumbs softly over the clothed skin of my bump. "Same as yesterday... Back pain, feet pain, constantly Braxton Hi-" I wasn't able to finish my sentence, as another wave of pain crashed over my lower abdomen, causing me to brace myself against Loki and releasing deep breaths. "Love?!" "I'm fine, I'm fine... Just Braxton Hicks..." "Sure?" "Yes."

Thirty minutes later, I wasn't so sure anymore. The contractions got closer, came in shorter intervals - and by the Norns, they became worse... I was still at the training grounds, seated in the shadows, when I felt a contraction, stronger than every other before. I winced in pain, almost toppling over. That was the point I had to admit to myself: This was the real thing. Not just Braxton Hicks. The baby was coming… Now. "Loki!" I immediately called for my husband, both hands clasping my belly. He was at my side in no time, of course. "What is it, darling?" Loki asked, squatted down in front of me, hands on my knees. I bit my lip. "I-I, uh, I think I am in l-labour." The God's eyes widened to the size of plates. "R-Really?" I nodded - and as if on cue, I felt a gushing sensation between my legs, followed by something wet trickling down my legs. Uh.Oh. "W-What... What is that?" Loki asked, swallowing hard as he saw the wet patch on my – pardon me, Loki's grey sweatpants. (Yes, I was a Princess, on Asgard, wearing sweatpants. Crazy, right?) "Babe, I think my water just broke." Loki stared back at my face and I literally saw the panic coming up in his eyes. "Y-Your water just broke?" The God squeaked out, "Oh Norns... Oh shit…" before he stood up and started to pace up and down in front of me, hands buried in his black curls. "Lokes… Deep breaths. I need you to stay calm. Take me to the healers, okay?" Loki stopped abruptly, looking at me once again. "O-Of course, okay, yes, sure." He helped me stand and immediately swept me off my feet, carrying me bridal style. Without even saying a single word to Sif, he marched away. "Am I not too heavy? Couldn't you just… teleport us?" He quickly shook his head. "Why in Valhalla should you be too heavy? And no. Teleportation is too dangerous." "Because, oof-" Again a contraction interrupted me. I clawed my hands in the fabric of Loki's tunic and gritted my teeth. "Breathe, my love, breathe. We're almost there." Now I did what he said, took deep breaths. Minutes later, Loki had carried me through the hallways of the palace, into a big room with a large bed inside and various things you needed for a birth. It almost looked like a real maternity ward in a hospital on earth. My eyes widened at the sight. I certainly didn't expect this. "Lokes, what-" My husband cut me off immediately, as he laid me down on the bed. "I've prepared this room weeks ago, love. I hope the bed is comfortable enough?" I stared at him, jaw dropping. "You... prepared this room weeks ago?" He nodded. "Yes. I was on Midgard, looked how they do things there and decided to prepare this room like that. I hoped that this would make you feel more homely and relaxed. I wanted it to be as normal for you as possible." My heart jumped at his words. "Oh babe... Thank you so much." Loki smiled proudly and leaned down to place a kiss on my forehead. "I'll go, get the healers."

Almost four hours of excruciating pain and tons of shed tears and sweat later, one of the female healers announced with a joyful voice: "She's here, your majesties." No second later echoed a loud cry through the room, making me tear up on an instant. "She?" I sobbed up, looking over at Loki, who held my hand still in a death grip, looking like he had just seen a ghost. "Yes, my Princess. It's a little girl." The healer announced, stepping over to me. "And she looks just like her father." She said with a smile, placing the small, wrapped up bundle on my chest, before they all tended to cleaning me and everything else up and leaving the room to give us some privacy. I welcomed my child, of course immediately in my arm, looking down at her. It was true... She looked exactly like her daddy. Deep blue skin with beautiful marks and ridges all across her body, ruby eyes and a small tuft of black hair on her head. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen - beside Loki. "Lokes..." I whispered, voice trembling. "Look… You're a daddy now of a beautiful little girl." Those words, coming from my mouth seemed to let him realise what just had happened. He was a father now. His eyes welled up with tears, a sob leaving his throat and shaking his whole body, as he reached out a trembling hand to touch his daughter's head. He traced a gentle line down her small back and arms, towards her even tinier hands. She grabbed a hold of his finger immediately, when Loki placed it in her palm, holding on tightly. "I-I am a dad now..." Loki sounded utterly overwhelmed, as he looked down at his very own daughter. "You are, babe." I said, smiling at him through tears. The baby girl had stopped her crying by now, after getting used to the whole new environment she was suddenly in and the feeling of her parents being close. Soft coos were leaving those pouty lips now, eyes squeezed back shut. It took Loki a while to let the information sink fully in, but once he had really grasped it, the tears started to fall freely down his cheeks. "I am a dad now!" Loki literally screamed out, halfway laughing, halfway crying, before he stood up and paced the room like a madman - again, hands running over his face. "I can't believe it... I have a daughter..." I could tell that he was on the verge of losing it. I've never seen him that emotional before, but I absolutely adored it. A soft giggle left my lips at his reaction. Norns, I was so in love with that man. He needed another few moments to take a deep breath and calm his nerves. "May I hold her, darling? Please?" "Of course, but take off your tunic. She needs skin-to-skin contact." Loki nodded quickly and with one snap of his fingers was his green tunic gone, leaving him in his leather trousers and boots. I handed her carefully over, into Loki's arms, what caused her to whimper softly at the loss of warmth; but he was quick to give her the warmth back. Thanks to his wonderful niece, Eisa, he knew how to hold a baby. He practiced a lot. Loki placed our little girl on his broad chest, constantly supporting her head. As soon as her skin touched his, the skin of his upper body and face turned blue as well. Ridges and marks appeared all over his chest, face and arms. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of them and the deep bond they already seemed to share. It was breathtakingly beautiful. "Hello, my little Princess." He whispered, kissing her small head repeatedly, as tears still streamed down his cheeks. They remained like that for a long while, before Loki shapeshifted back into his Æesir form. Not even ten seconds later, our daughter suddenly shapeshifted as well, the blue on her skin turning into the colour of Loki's porcelain skin. He gasped at the sight. "Darling! Did you see that?! She just... shapeshifted!" I smiled broadly, already suspected that our daughter would be able to do such things. "Well, she's half her daddy, after all." "Oh my smart girl." Loki cooed, cradling her closer against his chest.

A few hours later, Y/N was back in our chambers, had fed the tiny girl for the first time and was now fast asleep. She needed to rest; I knew that of course. Therefore, I was looking after our baby. She was once again in my arms, sleeping peacefully. I wanted her close to me, wasn't able to tear my eyes off of her. A soft knock on the door caught my attention, causing me to lift my head. Carefully, I laid her back down in the crib, before I silently walked over to the door and opened it. "Mother." I gasped out, happily, still overwhelmed by my emotions. Without saying a single word, she pulled me in a tight hug. "Congratulations, my son. I am so proud of you. Look into what a wonderful man you've grown... A husband and now a father." Those words tugged at my heartstrings, bringing the tears back into my eyes. "Thank you so much, mother." She placed a soft kiss on my cheek, making me smile even brighter, "I hope I am not disturbing?" before she let go of me again. "No, of course not. Y/N's asleep, but please... Come and meet your granddaughter." I stepped aside, granting her access. My mother didn't hesitate, of course, stepped inside. I led her over to the crib. "Mother... Meet Ella." Frigga looked down at Ella with heart eyes, a gasp leaving her lips. "She is beautiful, Loki. What a sweet little angel. Again, I am so proud of you." I gave her a smile and couldn't help but to hug her again.

A week later, we were back in our apartment at the Avengers compound. It was great on Asgard, without a doubt, but… I missed my home. Loki understood that, of course and took us back as soon as the healers gave us the permission to leave. Once back home, everybody was on an instant enchanted by the tiny girl. Everyone spent at least fifteen minutes with gushing over Ella. How sweet she was, how tiny her fingers were and how much she looked like her dad. I had no problem with our friends, gushing over Ella or carrying her around. Quite the opposite… It warmed my heart, gave me the feeling that she was accepted and protected and loved. Unlike Loki. Loki was totally not amused and highly protective of Ella, his eyes never leaving her out of sight – or the person who held her… She was currently in Natasha's arms, cooing adorably, while Wanda and Pepper hunched over them, making heart eyes at the tiny girl - who visibly enjoyed all the attention she received. I saw him standing in the corner of our living room, pouting. I frowned and stepped over to him, poked his side playfully, but affectionately. "What's wrong, Lokes?" He inhaled sharply, "Too many people who have their hands all over my daughter. I don't like that." and crossed his arms over his chest. I wanted to speak up, but before a single word could leave my lips, he stomped over to the group of girls. "Excuse me, but I think Ella needs to sleep for a while now." Loki took the baby girl from Natasha's arms into his own and vanished just like that into the bedroom, leaving the three woman sitting there quite a bit flabbergasted. "Sorry, girls." I apologised immediately, walked over to them and sat down on the sofa as well, giving all three an apologetic smile. "Loki's a bit... protective." And he was that constantly. Not just around the other Avengers, no. Even around his own brother and sister-in-law... "No." Thor looked at his brother, blinking, while Jane and I stood aside, watching the scenes unfold in front of our eyes, stunned. "No?" Loki nodded, while gently rocking Ella. "Yes. I won't let you hold her. Certainly not. You're an oaf, Thor. I don't want Ella to get hurt." Thor blinked again. "Brother... I have a daughter myself, who is only a few months older than Ella, don't you remember?" "Yes, I do remember very clearly, but this is different." "How is that different?" Loki held his daughter, who was definitely a daddy's girl - I could tell that already - closer against his upper body. "Ella is my baby." That was my cue to intervene. I couldn't watch that any longer. "Our baby, Lokes! And now let your brother hold Ella!" Before the God could even start to protest, I snatched Ella from his grasp and gave her over to her uncle. "Here you go." I said, giving him a smile, which he returned. "I swear, brother…" Loki stepped dangerously close to Thor, raising a finger. "If you are going to drop her, I am going to-" "Stab me, I know, brother. Got it." Loki narrowed his eyes and gave Thor a last threatening look, before he plopped down beside me on the sofa. Yeah... That's what I was dealing with every day. Within a year, Loki had turned from a man who was not very fond of children, to an (over)protective, but loving mother hen - and I was so here for it. I loved it, because I knew that I couldn't imagine a better dad for Ella.

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