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iloveaustinelvisandmannymore · 8 months

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Baby Addams.

Pairing: MaleWednesday x reader.

Warning: Mention of kidnapping, Mention of forced marriage, pregnancy, Yandere Male Wednesday. Gomez and Morticia from 1991. (poor transition Spanish and Italian) If you speak any of these languages feel free to correct me nicely thank you.

Summary: You were Wednesday's wife, with a baby on the way. (sorry summary sucks)

A/n: This is inspired by the story Yandere male Wednesday , by @teresalace I asked her permission so yea. Check out the story.

Three years, since you met Wednesday, Three years, since he took you away from everything you knew, Three years since you were married into the Addams family, and finally Wednesday had got what he wanted like he always did. You were pregnant, carrying a new addition to your husband's family. Gomez and Morticia were overjoyed about the news.

It was a dim, gloomy morning, and the massive black blanket lay on your growing stomach "Mi alma, wake up." a monotone voice whispered in your ear as you slowly opened your eyes, his plump lips kissed your shoulder, tracing down your arm to your wedding ring, sweet nothing whisper in Italian in Wednesday's normal deadpan voice "My parents are coming." he said getting out of the king bed.

You sighed and sat up as best as you can with a six-month baby bump, the room was dark in aesthetic and semi-normal, with hints of white and a little red amongst the black. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the large custom guillotine that hung above the bed, which luckily was unable to move, You had to convince and seduce Wednesday for that to happen.

Getting up from bed was somewhat difficult, but you managed to waddle to your shared walking closet, black and bright, warm colors were separated down the middle of the metal bar. You quickly showered and threw on a blue maternity dress, earrings to match, and a necklace. The walk downstairs was a little hard even when Wednesday helped, your home was gothic victorian style like your in-laws but less big. Swords, old timely guns, and torture devices littered the walls as while as mirrors, the rugs were dead animals. The furniture was you guessed black and white with red, and some armor and statues stood around the living room.

You both headed to the kitchen, It was a modern kitchen that your husband allowed you to decorate the only rule? It had to be in his aesthetic which you took. Wednesday leads you to the kitchen island and helped you onto the dark wooden counter stool "Good morning Wednesday" you smiled at him tiredly ready to break the silence "Yes, it is quite a bad morning today." he hummed and sat a glass of water down in front of you and began to make you breakfast. Despite being tricked into this marriage he was a good husband dare you say the best, Yes his..well him, he never made you feel unloved and was surprisingly romantic. The apple didn't fall that far from the tree, though he wasn't over-expressive with his displays of affection. A loud shriek rang out making you jump "I hate that doorbell." you whispered as took a bit of your breakfast that he put down. "I will get it, Mi Alma" he walked out of the kitchen to the front door, Wednesday inhaled, and opened the door. His dad held a brown box and his mother smiled at him "Our boy." She cooed, opening her arms in a grand gesture "Mother, Father. It is a displeasure to see you." Wednesday acknowledged looking boredly between his parents then sharply turned and walked back to the kitchen, Gomez and Morticia headed to the living room the door eerily closing behind them.

You swallowed the last bit of food when Wednesday walked in "Come." he offered his arm, you locked your arm his and hopped off the stool.

"There's the woman who stole our son's black, dead heart and hunts his every tortured thought!" Gomez exclaimed loudly as you walked into the living room, earning a threatening "Father." from Wednesday which Gomez ignored. "Hello dear." Morticia gracefully walked to you, almost appearing to be floating "How far along now?" She asked smiling at you "Six mouths." You smiled back "We wanted to give you this." She looked back at Gomez who held up the box "Shell we look through it together?" She asked pulling you away from Wednesday and to the floor where Gomez sat the box. Morticia opened it and took out stuff one by one "Here's Wednesday Teddy when he was just a little boy." She cooed and passed you a black teddy with stitches, the head ripped off "Cute.." you grimace, sitting it beside you. She pulled out kid-sized knives and swords "Oh this was his favorite toy!" She pulls out a toy guillotine, big enough to chop off a finger or a Barbie's head. 'So the obsession started during childhood. great.' you stared at it hopelessly.

"Son." Gomez touched Wednesday's shoulder both of them watching their wives interact with each other one with joy and the other hiding her disdain poorly. Gomez only got a side-eye look from his son, letting his father know he was listening, eyes back onto you "Let's talk." Gomez pat Wednesday's back and walked across the living to the hallway. Wednesday huffed and walked out.

"What do you so desperately need to talk about?" Wednesday stared his father down, wanting to be back within your essence "Son..are you sure she's the one for you? She doesn't scream...Addams material." "Are you saying you disapprove of her?" "Not exactly-" "Because if you are," Wednesday took a step closer to the older Addams "You will never see me or my children. She is my every soul, she cut open my heart and made me bleed for her. I would walk through heaven and back to please her. I would kill for her," his eyes narrowed "Even if it means you." a pregnant silence fell upon the two. If it was a cartoon you would be able to see a row of dots typing above their heads. Gomez grinned and shook his son back and foe "You have truly found your own Morticia!" he laughed, swung his arm around the tensed Wednesday and walked back into the room.

You yawned as laid back into the bed, your in-laws stayed until the dark of the night arrived. Though weird they were a joy to be around, the love they shared, you had wished for since you were little you had got it from a man who rarely showed emotion but love doesn't have to be over the top, love could be quiet yet meaningful and coming from someone like your husband. It was more special.

"Are you ready Mi alma?" Wednesday asked, pulling you into his embrace, his chin resting on your head, you tried nodded as the lights of the room were turned off by themselves, in the stillness of the dark and at the edge of sleep you whispered a "Te amo." Wednesday allows his lips to curl upward just a bit in the safety of the night "Ti amo"

Transition

Mi alma.

My soul.

Te amo.

I love you.

Ti amo.

I love you in Italian.

#the addams family #Genderbend wednesday #Male Wednesday #gomez addams #wednesday #morticia adams #pugsley addams #Male x reader #yandere wednesday addams

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 1 year

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Yandere Vampire X f! reader pt. 1

The Woods PT. 2

Tw: noncon, dubcon,manipulation, mind control, isolation, sexual attraction to blood, blood.

A/N: This chapter is a slow burn kind. Mainly because the second chapter is just going to be smut due to certain circumstances which are revealed at the end of the story.

Kofi: Wanna buy me a coffee?

🍒🍒🍒🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

Your quiet gothic-themed village was never afraid of many things. Not even the bubonic plague scared the villagers. But, something that did scare them was the woods. They called it The Forest of Blood or El Bosque de Sangre. A long time ago, during the medieval ages, a family of wealthy nobles from Transylvania moved to your village. With their luggage were a human-sized coffin and a blanket with engravings of DC on them. They stayed in their castle surrounded by woods until the villager's livestock began to die. Cows and pigs as pale as ghosts with markings on their necks. The only clue was a trail of blood leading into the dark forest.

The villagers took their weapons and marched to the noble's castle, only to find the family in such a horrific condition, not even the graveyard thieves wanted them. Though, others say the family are beings of another name. Some called them Nosferatus, Draculas, Creatures of the Night, Demons, Bloodsuckers, anything but a human being. But that never worried you. What worries you were the girls going missing at the start of every winter, about a couple weeks before the first snowfall. No one knew who would be next, but no one dared to lock their daughters inside. For the last time they did, your village of Verano had mysteriously lost numerous amounts of harvest and livestock. And so here you are, walking to your grandmother's house to keep her company.

It didn't bother you that it's dark as you walk the dirt roads to your grandmother's house. You were used to the dark. It felt like home in a weird way. Even the predators that snatch livestock from the pens respect you as if you are one of their own. Although, it would lead to the villagers thinking you are a witch of some sort. But that didn't bother you either, for you always thought about flying high in the sky and doing witchy things with your friends, especially your friend, Nos, who you knew since that fateful day all those years ago.

"What are you doing behind that bush?"

The boy with pale skin and raven black hair looked at you with shock, fear, and surprise in his eyes.

"Come on, don't you want to play with the other children?"

The boy nodded and took your hand as you ran into the field to play with the village children. You put a flower crown on his head and held both his hands as you began to spin around.

"Nosferatu! Dracula! Demon and Creature of the Night! Everything you'll scream when they bite! Pure as snow! A virgin wearing a white wedding dress! Dye it red and rest in the forest! Be their bride in unholy matrimony!"

Your grandma walked up to you and said to say goodbye to the now-happy boy. You hugged him goodbye and skipped back to her cottage. When you got to her house, your grandma whispered in your ear.

"Nunca hables de los Nosferatus y sus novias. O de lo contrario desaparecerás en el bosque también."

"Bien, abuela."

That was fifteen years ago, and he's been your best friend ever since, even if you could never have adventures in the woods because you feared disappearing from the village.

"Nos, why do you insist on creeping behind me so much?" You ask, turning around to face a six foot three Nos.

"You shouldn't be walking out here so late at night. There are dangerous things in these woods," Nos says, putting his coat on your shoulders. "You should come back to my place and get warm."

"Sorry, grandma needs me to help with the pre-Christmas party," You reply, trying to move through the mud. "Did you hear about it supposedly snowing today?"

"Yes, I did, love. Are you going to start up about those girls going missing again?" Nos asks, walking side by side with you.

"How could I not?! It's supposed to be the first snowfall today, and not a single girl from the village has disappeared!" You exclaim, turning around to face Nos.

"Darling, those girls probably ran away from home. They found someone better in the world and left to explore it," Nos responds, taking you into his arms and dancing you around.

Snow begins to fall, and soon the roads become milky white. You made it to your grandma's house only to find she wasn't there. She had left on an emergency trip to Venice to help one of your cousins give birth. Your grandma had left a centuries-old family cookbook for you if you wished to cook something for dinner.

"It's snowing pretty heavy, darling. How about you stay at my place until it stops," Nos suggests, buttoning up the coat he put over you.

"That sounds fine, but what about you? Won't you be cold?" You ask, starting to shiver.

"I'll be fine. The cold doesn't affect me that much," Nos replies, taking the cookbook and carrying it in his bag. "Come, we can cook dinner and get warm by the fireplace."

You nod and follow his lead until he tries to enter the forest. The dark, snow-covered forest seemed to be staring back at you. Nothing made a sound, and nothing moved. You weren't sure if it was because of the snow absorbing the sound or because this forest was so terrifying that nobody dared enter it.

"It's ok. It's a shortcut to my manor. It's only a couple feet away, I promise," Nos promises, gently holding your hand. "If you feel safer, I'll hold you in my arms the whole time."

"Fine, but don't let me go," You whimper as Nos carries you like a princess.

Nos was known as a lady killer or a charming noble, depending on who you ask. Even though he only came into the village to meet you, he garnered attention from other girls. He got proposal after proposal but kept declining them. The girls eventually got over him, but the female elders couldn't help but notice how no boy or gentleman in the village would ask for your hand in marriage. Their husbands told them to pay no mind to it, but they stopped paying attention to you when predators acted like domesticated animals around them. Though others theorized you were the next Novia de Nosferatu.

"We're here! I'll get you some overnight clothes and make a fire. You can pick out a recipe if you want to," Nos says, handing you your family cookbook.

"I'll choose something yummy," You say, scurrying to the kitchen.

After fifteen minutes, Nos returned downstairs and saw you preparing to cook your family's calzone recipe. He wrapped his arms around your waist and asked if he could help.

"I'm fine, Nos. Why don't you get us something to drink?" You reply, putting the rolling pin away.

"Of course, darling. I'll be right back," Nos says, going to the cellar.

Dinner was ready, and Nos poured two glasses of wine. You brought the food to the table and began to eat with your friend.

"Sorry if the wine tastes bad. I know you're more accustomed to fruity alcoholic drinks," Nos comments, eating a piece of the calzone. "You're still not afraid of these woods, are you? My room has a pretty good view of the trees. It gets wonderful sun and moonlight as well."

"Don't you have a guest bedroom?" You ask, trying not to earn the title of village whore just for innocently sleeping with a guy.

"I'm afraid all the guest bedrooms are-oh fuck it. You've been the light of my life all the way into adulthood. Would you-would you please be mine?" Nos proposes, pulling out a box with a ring with a dark red gem.

The ring was silver with black markings going around it. It was something that only the richest of the rich could afford.

"Nos...of course I'll marry you!" You exclaim, kissing your now fiance.

"Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure? It's not the alcohol talking, right?" Nos questions, pouring you another glass of wine.

"It's not the alcohol talking. Besides, based on things are for me in the village, it seems you're the only guy who would willingly marry me," You respond, drinking the second glass of wine until it's half full. "What type of wine did you give me? It tastes so metallic."

Nos moves closer to you, eventually capturing you in an embrace. You can feel his muscles twitch, and he kisses the crook of your neck. Nos slips the ring onto the middle finger on your right hand.

"I'm glad you wanted this as much as I did, my unholy bride," Nos whispers, his voice becoming raspy and hissing towards the words of unholy bride.

"Wha-"

You have no time to react before he bites you full force. Your ring extends a needle or blade into your skin and shoots something into you. You couldn't break out of his arms and felt nothing but pain. Your nerves felt like they were on fire, your body began to shiver, and your eyes felt like they were about to explode.

"Sh, sh, sh, it's ok. You'll get through the transformation soon. It’ll be nothing but pleasure from here on out, my love,” Nos comforts, gently stroking your head. “Once you drink my blood, the transformation will be complete, and we can be together forever.”

“Nos…Nosfer…Nosferatu!” You scream, rage and fear flowing through your blood.

“No! Call me Nos. I’m still your sweet, Nos. I’m your wonderful fiancé!” Panic is in his voice as he realizes he’s starting to lose you.

You yowl in pain, and with the newly formed claws, you swipe at Nos. He jumps away from you as you run toward the library. Everything was black and red. There was no other color present. You see a book on a desk and fiercely open it, only to find out some things are better left as secrets.

“The son of the chief of Verano made a deal with the blood devils. One maiden will be the sacrifice for us all and be the devil's future mother. A sacrifice made before the first snowfall, or else we will pay for it all,” You read the page making more anger surface. “This year’s Blood bride is Y/N. Please note that the heir has chosen to court her and then ask for her hand in marriage.”

“Darling, no! Don’t read that book! You’ll get confused!” Nos yells, grabbing your shoulder. “ Your body is tired from the transformation. You need to rest!"

"Don't touch me! I can't believe I was ever your friend! How long?! How long did you plan on doing this to me?!" You rage, tears falling down your cheeks.

"I only- thirteen. I knew you were my bride at thirteen and have courted you ever since. You wanted to stay friends, and I still wanted a relationship, so I abided by your wishes and drove suitors away from you. I didn't want you to find out who I was through force like the other brides of my family. I wanted it to be a nice experience for you." Nos holds you in his arms as your claws swipe at him drawing slow-moving blood. "We can still have a wedding with your family. I'll invite them, and they'll know you're ok."

"Do you know what you've done?! Everyone in the village thinks I'm cursed or a witch!" You scream, trying to get out of his arms. "I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

"NO! You don't hate me! It's the vampire venom talking! You love me! You love me just like you did before!" He growls, slamming you onto the brick wall. "Clearly, we need a little couples therapy until that is gone from your system."

He bites your neck, and pleasure goes into your veins. Your legs wrap around his, and your hips unconsciously grind on his crotch. Nos is too strong from drinking your blood to try pushing him away. You can only try to keep your body still as he drinks from you. Your vision goes dark, and you let out a small moan.

When you wake up, your vision is dark, and your naked body feels cramped. You push open the padded ceiling, and something metal moves as light hits your face. Red liquid falls on you from above, making everything but your face smell metallic. You crawl out of the coffin, trying to head towards the backdoor facing the woods. Nos grabs you and licks your cheek, making you shiver.

"I think this will bring us closer together, don't you?" Nos asks, removing his red robes and putting his naked body against yours. "I won't take your virginity until the wedding night unless you want to lose your virginity before then."

"I will never marry you!" You scream, trying to break away but can't due to the wet blood.

"Oh, I love it that you're still stubborn. Let me treat and clean you up, my love," Nos kisses as his hands go straight to your crotch and breast.

He sticks his fingers in you and rubs your nipple as he makes out with you. Nos looks at you, and his brown eyes become bright red.

"Focus on the sensations. In and out," Nos whispers, kissing the previous bitemark he gave you.

You felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't want to follow his orders. Soon enough, you were begging for him to finish you off. He took out his fingers from inside you after you orgasmed. He sucked on his fingers covered in your juices and blood. Then, began to lick the blood on your body. You tried tugging at his pants from below, but he swatted your hands away. Nos licked and kissed his way down to your crotch, where he found that you were bleeding. His face lit up, and you were too euphoric and full of lust to care what would happen next.

"It seems your body has decided that we must have our wedding now," Nos says, taking you into his arms so he can put you in a bath. "We're going to have one bloody hell of a wedding, darling."

#yandere male #male yandere #yandere vampire #yandere x reader #vampire smut #smut #f! reader #slow burn #vampire #yandere noncon #yandere dubcon

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ghostssweetgirl · 1 year

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A Ghost's Promise (tooth-rotting fluff)

A/N - please excuse me, I've never been to a wedding, so I apologize if anything is inaccurate. But I thought this would be so sweet.

The main song choice for this is Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Rey.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem reader (fluff)

Warnings: none, I think. Just don't let your heart melt, alright? :) maybe some curse words, but I don't think so. Let me know if I missed any.

WC: 2.4k~

Simon had proposed to you 6 months ago. It felt like something straight out of a movie, although it was unexpected at the time. You were at a lake, a beautiful one, surrounded by mountains, somewhere you were camping at. You were hunched over like a gremlin, looking at the cool rocks and stones. You found a shiny black stone, sat up and jumped in place, excited to gift it to Simon but as you turned around, you found him on one knee, eyes crinkled in a soft smile. Unmasked, with tears in his eyes, holding out a beautiful ring, too beautiful. A ruby, surrounded by skulls and roses, a black band.

You couldn't speak, couldn't make a noise. You held your hand over your mouth as you smiled ear to ear, tears welling in your eyes. Your eyes met Simon's soft ones, a stray tear falling out of his left eye. He didn't even have to ask it, you were already sobbing.

"Yes! Oh, Simon, yes!" you cried, reaching out for him as he sat up, hugging you tightly. His hands rubbed your back, soothing you as the other hand placed the ring on your finger delicately, rubbing the back of your hand. You heard him sniffle as he kissed your forehead.

You pressed your face into his chest, unable to stop the happy tears from flowing. He laughed, which made you laugh, looking up at him to meet his eyes. Both of your wet eyes crinkling as you smile at each other lovingly.

"I fucking love you," you spoke, your voice pitched as you're laughing, crying, smiling.

"Yeah, I fuckin' love you," he chuckled. "S' much."

You think of him proposing to you, trying not to tear up while you're getting your makeup done before the big day, you'll officially be Mrs. Riley. That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Every cherished moment you've spent right beside him. Every date, especially the first date where he was stuttering while talking to you and all shy. You remembered the first time he revealed his face to you; you were in utter awe, wondering why he had hidden such a beautiful, gorgeous treasure from you for so long.

You smirked, humming a laugh while the makeup artist tilted your head back to make the final touches. "Beautiful!" she chirped, proud of her work.

You look in the mirror, examining the remarkably done work. A red and black smokey eye, cat-eye eyeliner with subtle mascara, to pair beautifully with your red and black gothic wedding dress.

Your mom toddles along, smiling at seeing her daughter on her wedding day. Her eyes were wet, she'd been crying, her daughter really was all grown up now. "Oh, sweetie," she cupped your cheek. "I'm so proud of you and so happy for you."

"Thanks, mom," you smiled at her, tears threatening to prick your eyes while you tried to laugh it off.

"Let's go get you in your dress, shall we?" she suggested, helping you stand up. One of the workers walked up, asking if she could be of any help, your mother politely declined.

You kept your eyes glued shut, not wanting to look in the mirror quite yet while your mom zipped up the back, fluffing the skirt, making sure it was all perfect.

She sighed contently, resting her chin on your shoulder. "Ready to see how beautiful you look, angel?"

You sighed a deep breath, nervously chuckling before opening your eyes, seeing yourself in all your glory in the mirror before you. The blood red fabric under the black lace bodice, the beautiful pattern of the sleeveless lace-straps. The way the skirt barely poofed out slightly.

You felt like a princess, Simon's little princess.

"Oh, wow," you remark, smirking in the mirror as you twirl around. Your mom laughs proudly, her voice hitching from tears.

"I just... I raised such a beautiful daughter. I love you! I can't wait to see this new chapter of your life."

"Mom, stop, you're going to make me cry," you pleaded. "I love you, too."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," she wiped her tears. "Just can't believe it still."

Last minute, your father walked in, he proudly smiled, crossing his arms as he watches his once little girl, be all grown up on her wedding day. He was a quiet man, but you could feel the love from his soft gaze upon you.

Simon and Johnny were in his dressing room. Simon grumbled at Johnny while he was obsessively and neatly fixing every crinkle in his suit and straightening up his tie and sleeves of his shirt.

"You nervous, Simon?" Soap asked, his voice soft and curious.

"Little bit," he lied, he was nervous as fuck. Obviously, he's never done this before. There were so many people here to witness your ceremony. Of course, he wanted everyone to know how much he loved you and that you were his, but being eyed by a lot of people made him incredibly nervous, understandably. But most of all, he was so nervous to see you and how elegantly beautiful you would look. He fears he may have a heart attack at the sight of you walking down the aisle.

Price shuffled into the room, cheering his cigar and beer to Simon. He smiled at Johnny, then back at Simon. "We're honored to be your best men," he nodded to Johnny. "And your groomsmen, Simon."

Simon nodded stoically, "Thank you, sir."

"Almost time," Johnny smiled, patting his best friend on the back, nodding at him in the mirror. "Yer goin' to do amazing, L.T. 'M so happy for you and y/n."

You were catching up with your bridesmaids, chit-chatting and squealing about how happy everyone was. You peek around a corner, and look at the venue. Oh, Simon...

He had set up such a beautiful theme for your outside wedding. Tables set up with black tablecloth draped over them, littered with beautiful arrays of matching dishes, translucent-black wine and champagne glasses scattered about, with beautiful dark candles lined up perfectly. Across the walkway, freesia flower petals scattered among it. So elegant.

Viewing the altar, you spot a black arch, wrapped with a red silk drape with roses across it. Your mouth fell agape as you took in everything. This is everything you could ever ask for and more. Soft, soothing music played in the background while everyone was getting into their seats.

Your maid of honor, your best friend, lightly tapped your shoulder. "He really loves you, you know... I mean, this is just... beautiful, y/n."

You smile whole-heartedly, meeting her eyes. "I know, I-I'm in disbelief, is this even real?"

"Yes, silly! You deserve it!" she wraps you in a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you, I can't explain it."

You soothe yourself by rubbing the back of your hand, nervousness setting over you as you watch the officiant walk down the aisle; it's about to start. You fix your posture and start taking deep breaths. Your best friend makes final touches, making sure you're looking as amazing as you should on your day. She's taking your attention off of Simon walking down the aisle to his place as his groomsmen follow not far behind.

"You're so beautiful, it's going to be amazing," she whispered, cupping your face, before her and your bridesmaids go into their place.

Your father walks up, nodding at you, silently telling you 'it's time'. You lock your arm around his, as he sets still for a moment, cherishing this moment before he 'lets you go'.

As your father walks you down the aisle, everyone is smiling ear to ear, proudly as they keep intense eyes on you. You'd focus on them if possible, but seeing how handsome, how beautiful Simon looked, you could have burst into tears right then and there. This was really happening, and you were about to be able to finally call him your husband.

His breath hitched, a fiery lump burning in his throat as he attempts not to cry from seeing how beautiful you look; how proud he was to call you his. And here you are, walking to him. He's always been happy with you, but no moment compared to now.

A song softly starts in the background, Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey

Time slowed as you walked up to him, smiling at him proudly, also holding back tears. Your father lets your arm go as you finally approach your groom, standing directly in front of him, both of you all teary-eyed, happiness radiating off of each other vibrantly.

The officiant asks everyone to be seated as they had stood up, softly clapping for the two of you.

"On behalf of Y/N and Simon, I would like to thank you all for being here this afternoon. For taking the time and making the journey, and for all the effort that it takes—not only to be a part of this day, but to be a part of each other’s lives," he paused. "Y/N and Simon have invited you here to this beautiful place to show you a glimpse of an important piece of their love. To share with you their journey through the past years of their relationship."

"I wish I could tell you a single story about Y/N and Simon that summarizes their relationship and how they enrich each other’s lives, and the lives of each of us, but the truth is there isn’t one single event that is a good encapsulation of what they mean to me, to each other, and to all of us. But what I do know is that both of them care deeply and passionately for each other; they protect each other; they make each other laugh and they think outside themselves; that time magically seems to both fly and slow down when they’re together. They help each other in ways that are obvious and unnoticed, but always appreciated."

If you weren't worried about not knowing what to do, and focused on what the officiant was saying, you could have gotten lost in Simon's eyes right then and there. You knew he loved you; but this, this...

"As a third-party spectator to their developing love, it was extremely clear that the two of them represent a perfect pairing because each of them complements the other so well. They balance one another, and while each of them are tremendous individuals on their own, together they are even better. And being better together, as a team, a unit, and partners in crime, is what has been many years in the making and ultimately leads us to being here today, witnessing their commitment to one another in front of those they love most."

"So, without further ado."

"The symbolic vows that you are about to make are a way of saying to one another, “You know all those things we’ve promised and hoped and dreamed? Well, I meant it all, every word.” When you love someone, you do not love them all the time in exactly the same way. That is impossible. Yet that is what most of us expect. We forget the ebb and flow of life and of love and of relationships. We insist on permanence, on duration, on continuity. But in love, as in life, the only stability is in change, in growth, and in freedom. Therefore what you promise today must be renewed and reaffirmed tomorrow and all the tomorrows to come. The Bride and Groom have now prepared their own vows. Y/N… "

You gulp, and have to stop yourself from looking around the room. You softly clear your throat.

"Simon..." you smiled.

"I always thought it would be difficult to find someone who will love me when I'm always scattered in a thousand pieces.

It's like trying to complete a puzzle when you don't even know if you have all the right pieces. But then you showed me that every piece doesn't have to be in place to create something beautiful.

That love can exist in the most imperfect lost and broken people And I promise you that love will be just as beautiful, if you're in a thousand pieces or just one."

You could see his Adam apple bob as he cleared his throat. You saw a stray tear fall out of his eye. Dammit, he's going to make you cry!

"Y/N," he cleared his throat again, shifting in his step.

"I didn't fall in love with you I walked into love with you with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way. I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we'd choose anyway.

And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you, and I'd choose you."

"Having considered all of these things, Simon, do you promise again to do your very best each day to create a loving, healthy, and happy marriage?"

"I do," he reassured softly.

"Y/N, do you promise again to do your very best each day to create a loving, healthy, and happy marriage?"

You smile, nodding eagerly. "I do."

"No one but you can declare yourselves married. You have begun it here today in speaking your vows before your family and friends, and you will do it again in the days and years to come, standing by each other, sharing the highs and lows of life. Go forth and live each day to the fullest." the officiant spoke. "You may now kiss the bride."

The officiant stepped away, your hands locked with Simon's before he pulled you into the most passionate kissed you've ever experienced, your first kiss as husband and wife. Your tears fell hard, falling down your cheeks over your pressed lips. The kiss dove deeper, his hand caressed the small of your back as he took a deep breath, having to pull back before he got carried away.

"Mr. and Mrs. Riley!" the officiant whooped, holding his hands up in celebration. The crowd cheered for you, and you could hear Johnny, Price, your best friend and bridesmaids screaming and shouting happily.

You both smile ear to ear, your arm locked in his as you walk back down the aisle - together. You make eye contact with your parents, your stoic dad allowing a few tears to fall, your mom sobbing heavily yet smiling.

As the night went on, you experienced your first dance together. Your head lay on his chest as you sway back and forth, comforted by the slow pace of his heartbeat. Lost in your own world, you look up at your husband.

"Simon?"

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"I love you. I'm so glad to have you. Forever isn't long enough..."

"I know. I know. I love you, babe." He held your head flush to his chest, rubbing your soft hair.

A/N - Alright I really didn't know how to end this, but WAS IT GOOD?! I hope so 🥺😭

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wiinterz · 4 months

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stitch and sew | suguru

pairing: vampire!suguru x fashion designer!black plus size gn reader

genre: established relationship, gothic lit au, headcanon

warnings: blood drinking, fluff(?), stitching skin, making out

word count: 380

summary: vampire!suguru and his beautiful lover.

☏ ᴛᴀʏ’s ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs: old headcanon! fun fact this was supposed to be a one-shot but i couldn’t think of anything for the summary since it was a s2l imagine. also, this is what happens when i listen to type o negative too much and rewatch knives out for the 300th time.

recs | taglist | help hub | jjk m.list

DARK CONTENT.

𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦!𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 is addicted to his lover, anything you do or say makes him a hopeless monster. you could be sitting at your desk, with your hair in an afro, the windows open with the moonlight cascading onto your dark melanin skin, doing nothing but sketching out your next design.

yet, he finds it so hard to not be in the dark watching you with a keen eye. when 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦!𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 gets hungry, he tends to run and hide from you, not for the reason of making you fear him but for the reason he doesn't want to lose his lover by the high he gets from drinking blood.

though you always know how to make him want to drink your blood and your blood only, you made him learn to be careful with his fangs on your skin. teaching him how to calm down when drinking your blood, you pull onto his ear anytime it becomes too much for you and he listens. his eyes are always blackened and glossy, which weirdly makes you aroused by the sight of your blood on his chin and his lips puffy.

𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦!𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 loves when you stitch his skin up anytime his long white fingernails cut him somehow, to any other person, the feeling of a needle going through their skin would be excruciating but to vampire!geto, it's euphoric.

𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦!𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 is addicted to your round plump lips, any chance he can, he'll steal a kiss from you and if you two aren't doing anything, he'll wrap his long cold hands around your waist, slip his tongue down your mouth while kissing you like it's your last day on earth.

𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦!𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 loves spoiling you, knowing how much of a hard worker you are he cooks your delicious meals while massaging your body as you eat. if you're lucky, 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦!𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 will let you spend a lot of money on him but only on rare occasions.

he hates it when you spend your money and not his, cause in his eyes, when you're with him, there's no need to pick up anything unless it's something he bought you like a birkin or flowers. plus the only heavy thing your finger should be touching is the diamond wedding ring he got you.

#vampire #vampire!geto #vampire au #goth lit #geto suguru #getou suguru #geto smut #suguru geto x black!reader #x black!reader #plus size reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #x reader #jjk smut #jjk x gn!reader #suguru x gn!reader

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theostrophywife · 1 year

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the prince of hell | part two.

we might just get away with it, the altar is my hips even if it's a false god, we'd still worship this love

author's note: i have chosen violence today and i won't apologize for it. anyways, enjoy this soft fluff.

song inspiration: false god by taylor swift.

The underworld was nothing like you expected it to be.

It was a land of perpetual night, but it wasn’t the frightening unending darkness of nightmares, instead it was moonlight and constellations, twinkling stars and violet skies. Never in a million years would you have predicted hell to be dreamy.

But it was. Everything about the place was an absolute dream. None more so than the winged male carrying you in his arms.

The Prince of Hell smiled softly as he cut through the cumulus clouds, flying towards an enormous castle perched atop an obsidian mountain. The peaks glittered like dark diamonds, the gothic spires and turrets spearing through the endless night as you floated through the sea of stars. The moon shimmered overhead as Azriel landed on the open balcony.

Though his feet hit the chequerboard floor, Azriel made no move to release you from his grip. He merely continued carrying you through his home, past the moonstone walls and marble pillars, through countless rooms full of lavish furniture and extravagant paintings, and underneath a crystal chandelier that projected starlight onto the polished onyx floors.

You gaped in wonder as he slipped past mahogany doors and into a bedchamber with a four poster bed. The sheets felt like silk to the touch as he carefully set you down. Across the room, you stared at your bewildered expression through a gilded mirror, your hair wild and unbound, your wedding dress smeared with blood and ash.

Azriel’s brows furrowed in concern as he wiped a streak of dried blood from your cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright, my heart?” His fingers skirted over your hairline, brushing a stray strand behind your ear with surprising gentleness. “You’re shaking.”

You gave him a watery smile. “I’m fine. Just a little rattled, that’s all.”

“I won’t apologize for what I did to that mortal, but I am sorry if it frightened you. The way he spoke about you, the way he grabbed you—” he released a shaky breath as if the memory still stoked his anger. “I wanted to do more than just rip out his wretched heart.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed in reassurance. “You saved me.” Honey eyes dawned on you like sunset, disbelief dancing in Azriel’s gaze as though no one has ever said such a thing to him. “You saved me and I owe you my life.”

“You owe me nothing,” Azriel declared with determination. “You will never owe anyone anything ever again.”

Those words released another floodgate of tears. As the Prince of Hell cradled you in his arms, his soft voice a soothing lullaby in your ears, the realization that you were free—truly free slammed into you. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, maybe minutes, maybe hours, but what you did know was that Azriel was a refuge in the storm.

As he had been in your dreams for far longer than you could remember.

“I thought I’d dreamt you up,” you said, looking up at this stranger who really wasn’t a stranger at all. “How are you real?”

There was something about the way those golden eyes softened that made your heart leap in your chest. Azriel brushed a tear away and took a deep breath. “Once upon a time, there was a raven with a broken wing. It searched high and wide for shelter, but because of its injuries, the raven couldn’t fly very far. One day it landed in the countryside, half-frozen and half-starved, where a girl found it buried amongst the snowbanks. The girl took pity on the raven and brought the bird home, offering it shelter and mending its broken wing. As she nursed the raven back to health, he did something very foolish. He fell in love with the girl. The raven knew it was a mistake. She was beautiful and gentle and kind and he was a creature of nightmares. Eventually, he healed and she set him free. That should have been the end of the story, but the raven was a selfish bastard. It kept coming back—watching over her, leaving her gifts, and visiting her dreams.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you listened, realization slowly washing over you as Azriel spoke. “Then one day, the raven heard the girl’s father praying to the old gods. Heaven ignored his pleas, but Hell listened. The raven listened because he had never forgotten the girl’s kindness. What the girl didn’t know was that the raven wasn’t a raven at all. He was the Prince of Hell. The day she found him, he had been attacked by his step brothers who sought his throne for themselves. They held him down and drove a spear through his wing, nearly severing it.”

His right wing flared out and you saw a large scar running through the underside of the red and gold membrane. “Before they could kill him, the Prince of Hell shifted into his raven form and fate took him to the small village where the kind girl rescued him. The raven would have died if it weren’t for her. When she set him free, he knew it killed her to do so. But the girl understood what it was like to be in a cage and she didn’t want him to have the same fate as her, so she let him go. As the girl watched the raven fly away with a heavy heart, he promised that one day, he’d set her free too.”

The room was silent as Azriel’s fingers raked through your scalp. “So the raven bided his time. Bargained with the girl’s father. Slaughtered his greedy step brothers. Reclaimed his throne. Then finally, the raven fulfilled his promise. The girl thought that he had set her free, that he had saved her, but what she didn’t know was that she saved him first. Before he met her, everyone always said that the raven had no heart and they were right because his heart was tucked away in that small, snowy village.”

The Prince of Hell brushed his lips over your temple. “That’s what you are to me,” Azriel said softly. “My heart.”

“Why me?” you asked. The memories flashed through your mind. Finding him in that snowbank. Bandaging up his wing. Your father had scolded you for it. Called you soft hearted. Always bringing in the strays of this world. The girl who desperately clung onto magic and fairy tales to escape the harsh reality of her own life. “I’m just a girl who has a weakness for the wild things.”

“Being kind is not a weakness,” Azriel said firmly. “I used to think it was. My father taught me as much and so did his father before him. But they were wrong. It was the kindness of a stranger that brought me back to life. A girl who gave me everything when I had nothing to give in return. That is true strength.”

Tears fell from your eyes like raindrops. It felt good to be seen. To have the whole of you reflected so clearly in someone else’s eyes. “You’re my freedom. You’re my salvation,” you stroked his cheek almost reverently. “I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

“As have I, my heart,” Azriel whispered softly, pressing his forehead against yours. “As have I.”

“You saved me,” you said once again.

“We saved each other.”

Your heart thundered in your chest as he traced the outline of your jaw, his thumb brushing against your lips. His touch was featherlight, but it set your entire body on fire. Azriel’s gaze marked you, burned you. It felt like he was embedding himself upon your soul.

“Azriel?” Your voice came out in a whisper, low and breathless.

“Yes, my heart?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

The Prince of Hell shuddered a breath. Then his hand slid into your hair, tilting you back. There was nothing but tenderness in his eyes as he closed the gap between you. Lips brushed against lips, tasting, testing—it was excruciating agony, it was sweet release. The kiss sparked a fire in you and you burned for Azriel, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling through his silky locks like you were trying to get lost in the dark paradise that was him with no desire to ever escape.

Azriel pulled you into his lap, his lips never leaving yours. The way your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, melding together, melting together seamlessly made you think that maybe you were created just for this purpose. He was intoxicating; there was nothing more divine, nothing more sacred than the feel of his mouth against yours. Kissing him was an act of worship.

You had the vague sense that you’ve never felt true hunger until Azriel’s tongue slipped past your parted lips and filled you with lust and desire so strong it made you feel like a depraved hedonist. There was Azriel and only Azriel.

Desire was a lit match catching fire on a field soaked with gasoline. The need for Azriel was endless, like staring into an empty abyss and realizing for the first time in your life that you were finally seeing what lay inside this whole time. You were hungry.

Azriel groaned as you rolled your hips against him. His hands found your waist, gripping you like his life depended on it. The gold dancing in his irises flickered to black. His eyes fluttered close as he nuzzled his nose against yours, reeling himself back to reality.

Then, in a voice full of care and restraint, Azriel said, “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready to do. It’s your choice, my heart.” The words cracked your heart open, letting sunlight into the shadowy crevices. “From this point forward, it will always be your choice.”

You cupped his cheek, marveling at all that he was. “My entire life, every decision has been made for me. Other people have always told me how to dress, how to speak, how to act. Tonight is the first time that I actually get to choose something for myself. I want my first choice to be you, Azriel.”

The words seemed to unleash something within the Prince of Hell. Azriel surged forward and kissed you, his mouth full of passion and heat. You arched into him and he took the opportunity to graze his teeth against the column of your throat before flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“I choose you, too,” he said softly.

You smiled, tugging him down until you both tumbled against the mattress. Azriel pinned you underneath him, taking his time to stroke your curves, his featherlight touch awakening goosebumps along your arms. He peeled the dress off of you gently, kissing your collarbones, your breasts, your stomach, and your thighs. You helped him out of his clothes, peeling layer after layer until the two of you were bare to one another.

You had no idea where to look first. Azriel was a work of art, a sculpture carved out of marble, every inch of him perfectly crafted by the gods themselves. The forbidden fruit seducing you to taste, to bite, to savor. He shuddered as you pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart as if it were your own.

“You will be my undoing,” the Prince of Hell declared. “I would worship at your altar tonight. You are my own little piece of heaven.”

“I don’t want to be your heaven,” you said, voice stern and unwavering. “I want to be your hell, because their god is the only one who has ever answered my prayers.”

Azriel looked down at you as though you were a god yourself. A treasure that he would give his life to guard and cherish. With your legs wrapped around his trim waist, Azriel hovered above you. His gaze was contemplative, searching for any sign of hesitation.

When he found none, Azriel kissed you gently while easing his way in. You were wet, soaking with arousal, and the length of him stretching your walls was a welcomed sting. He kept his eyes on you as his cock filled you deliciously. You moaned into his mouth and the sound seemed to completely unravel him.

It was ruin and restoration, life and death, pain and pleasure combined in one single act. Azriel twined your fingers together, holding your arms above your head as he made love to you. His wings flared behind his back just as his shadows swirled above his head, encircling him like a crown of smoke. The Prince of Hell was a dark god. He was night and mist and shadow. The space between the stars.

You would pray to him a thousand times over.

“Gods,” you moaned, the word falling from your lips like a solemn prayer. “It feels too good. You are too good, Azriel.”

He kissed you deeply, fusing your very souls together. A white hot heat seized your body and suddenly you were careening towards the cliffs, falling hand in hand with Azriel. The Prince of Hell growled into your mouth, his forehead pressed against yours as you both surrendered to release.

For a moment, nothing else in the realm existed besides the two of you.

Azriel opened his eyes and it was like staring directly into the sun after centuries of darkness. With a soft smile, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your temple. Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, your limbs locked and something within you just clicked.

This was right.

He was right.

You nestled against Azriel like you belonged there all along. “You never told me.”

“Told you what, my heart?”

“How the story of the girl and her raven ends.”

Azriel smiled, pulling you into his arms. “It doesn’t. They just find a new beginning instead.”

taglist: @viradeity @moony-thoughts @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @demirunner @swansworth @heart-defendor @momlo @mali22 @roselensage @searchingford@nessianxgwynriel@azriels-angels@brekkershadowsinger@morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @mattte-black @marina468 @lillithathecathecat @highladyofillyria

#i am so emo over this #prince of hell az is such an angel but the demon will come out in the bedroom soon hehe #azriel #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel x you

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softieekayy · 2 years

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The Introduction of Mrs. Lecter

Hannibal lecter x reader

Word count: 3864

Warnings: slight mention of unrequited love

Will Graham wouldn’t have ever guessed that Hannibal Lecter was married. Not once did he mention a wife or wear a piece of metal around his finger. So imagine his shock and confusion when he steps into Hannibal’s office only to see him dancing with a woman he’s never seen before. Will stood in silence at the door, watching the couple glide around the room like fairies. It wasn’t until Hannibal spun the pretty woman that they stopped.

“Will, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Hannibal’s voice caused Will to cut off his staring from the pretty lady and look at Hannibal instead. “I didn’t know you were busy, I should’ve called.” Will felt awkward, he had just walked into an intimate moment between Hannibal and this mystery woman. “Nonsense darling, I just came for an impromptu visit, come sit, I believe there’s enough lunch for all three of us.” Her voice surprised Will. He looked at her again only to see the sugary smile she was offering him. “Will meet my wife, (y/n). (Y/n), meet my close friend and colleague, Will.”

The introduction only made her smile brighter and she turned to look up at Hannibal, softly saying something that caused the man to smile. Will observed the couple together, he thought it was odd to see Hannibal as such a caring husband. Hannibal’s hand was splayed over the small of his wife’s back as she stepped forward to greet Will fully. He couldn’t hate her even if he tried. Will made his way into the office and sat in front of Hannibal’s desk, beside (y/n). Now that he was closer, he could see that she didn’t carry the same amount of age that Hannibal did. No, she was more youthful and her face held the same type of innocence that Abigail’s held.

“I-I didn’t know Hannibal was married, he doesn’t wear a ring or anything.” The words left Will’s mouth before he couldn’t even comprehend what was happening. (Y/n) turned to look at him, her mouth stuffed with food that hadn’t been chewed yet, it made her look like a chipmunk. Hannibal also stopped his actions, looking up at Will before his hands went to his neck and pulled out a silver chain with a wedding band on it. “I didn’t want to scratch up my ring or lose it. I find it more practical to wear it as a necklace in case of any violent patients.” Hannibal’s voice was soothing and accented as he spoke to Will. His voice held no offence to his question.

(Y/n) looked at Will then glanced to his plate, he hadn’t touched his food yet, a small frown placed itself on her face before disappearing. This didn’t go unnoticed by Hannibal as he subtly gestured to Will to eat. A while after they’d eaten and shared some stories, the three lounged around in the office. Will sitting across from Hannibal and (y/n) who had her feet in his lap, the glossy red heeled boots she was wearing long abandoned. They drank some white wine at the request of Hannibal and it was now that Will let down his walls and fully took in Hannibal’s wife. He would call her pretty but that would be an understatement, she was stunning. The type of beauty that inspired writers and the muse for artists all around the world.

She was different from Hannibal though. While he was more clean and neat, she was classy and old timey. At this moment though, she seemed younger than she was, dressed in a black silk skirt and a red corset top that was topped off with a black leather jacket now strewn over Hannibal's chair. A small cross necklace adorned her neck and big gothic earrings. She looked like a teenage girl's vampire dream. From their earlier conversations, Will had learnt that (Y/n) was an English teacher at a local highschool. Hannibal informed him further by stating that she also writes books.

Seeing them together brought Will to reality, he could never be her. No matter how much he tried, Will would never fit and flow with Hannibal like she does. They’re two different rivers that merge together at one end. One where you can’t tell where it starts and ends. If Hannibal was the moon then she was his stars. Will looked away from the couple for a few seconds, their loving glances only causing pain in his heart. Their night ended with (y/n) hugging Will goodbye and making him promise to bring Winston next time. He complied before giving the couple a smile and driving off to his isolated home in wolf trap. It was a long drive and the night sky had set long before his departure.

Back in Baltimore, Hannibal was picking up papers and organizing them while his wife put on her boots and jacket. By the time she was done, Hannibal had finished organizing the papers and turned to her, offering his arm for her to grasp onto before leaving the building. They are a couple that fit well together. It was like the universe had fated them to be together and created them from the same particles. The following morning Hannibal followed his daily routine of waking up, making breakfast, waking up (y/n), eating, getting ready and then heading off for the day with a soft kiss pressed to the lips. Today he was starting the day by helping Jack with a new body, one that he had put there two nights prior. A shrine for his beautiful wife, her writing had always inspired him. Just like how he was the muse for most of her characters, she was the muse for his murders.

Hannibal remembers the first time he met (y/n). It was many years ago now in Portland. He was there on business and she was there with her friends. A graduation trip to celebrate their masters. The two had bumped into each other when they went to grab the same book. Her soft shy eyes staring up to his predator ones. He knew he wanted her then and had her. In his care and in this relationship, (y/n) grew from being a bunny to being a fox. Cunning and smart just like he was, on par with him.

Snapping from his thoughts, Hannibal turned his attention fully to Jack who was still speaking of the body. From his peripheral vision, he could see Beverly studying something that she picked up from the ground. For a moment he prayed that it wasn’t a picture of him and his wife. Hannibal tried everything to keep her away from all of this but unfortunately that one picture had to fall out of his wallet at this moment and land into the hands of a very inquisitive Beverly Katz.

Beverly looked at Hannibal with a questioning look and he knew there and then that the small picture she was holding was the one from a dinner party hosted by his in-laws.

There was no doubt that it was the picture of him nosing her neck as she smiled for the camera. Hannibal sighed internally before focusing everything back on Jack. Will saw the picture that Bev picked up, she gestured to him with a questioning look and he just shrugged back, not wanting to talk about (y/n) without her or Hannibal’s permission. It was after that they were done discussing that Hannibal was cornered by Beverly. She asked him questions about the “pretty woman in the picture.” “That pretty woman is the lady I’m married to.” His answer shocked Beverly and gave him the opportunity to take the picture back from her hands. Unfortunately for him, Jack and Alana had overheard their conversation. Jack only raised an eyebrow in Alana’s direction who simply copied his action.

To say that Hannibal was stressed is an understatement, he was jittery on his way to pick his darling wife up from work and couldn’t stop shaking his leg. This was very out of character for him and (y/n) noticed. She always notices when her always calm husband is anxious. Slipping herself into the front seat, (y/n) turned to look at her husband and he looked right back at her. It was in these rare moments that Hannibal showed her his puppy eyes. “They know.” Hannibal’s voice was so soft that she barely heard him. Placing her hand on his cheek and leaning in to touch their foreheads together, (y/n) spoke, “it was about time, my love. You couldn’t keep me hidden forever.” She placed a small soft kiss to his lips and pulled back, offering the older man a sugary sweet smile.

Hannibal calmed down a bit before driving home, it was a nice drive, like it always is. Filled with conversation about each other’s day. It was when Hannibal was lounging in bed and watching his wife brush her hair that he told her about the events of today. He watched her as she brushed her hair out, concentrating in the heart shaped mirror. Hannibal told her that Beverly saw the picture and how Jack and Alana had overheard their conversation. At this, she paused before making eye contact with him through the mirror. (Y/n) got up and walked towards Hannibal and sat on the bed next to him, smiling gently before speaking, “You should introduce me properly Dr. Lecter. Now that everyone knows, I believe a feast is in order.” Her lips curled up into a sharp smile, her canines similar to Hannibal’s own. He reporicated the smile, the two of them looking like hunters who just caught their prey.

Pulling her down to him, Hannibal’s fingers played with her hair before they moved to the base of her neck, pulling his wife down in a passion filled kiss. Lipstick staining his lips and cheek. It was a bruising kiss but it was one filled with passion and love, not lust. Pulling apart, Hannibal pulled his wife to sleep on top of him, like a weighted blanket. He couldn’t sleep without the weight of her limbs on him, she was the exact same way. Not being able to sleep without the other was common. They slept peacefully that night, like they did every night.

In the morning, Hannibal was the first one to wake up. The sunlight filtered through the curtains and washed over his wife beautifully. It made her skin glow under the sun and she looked like a vision, one that he couldn’t pass up on drawing. Slowly untangling himself from her, Hannibal walked over to her glossy red and black vanity and picked up his drawing bed and pencil before sitting down and drawing her. A couple of hours passed before she stirred awake, her arm feeling for Hannibal’s body next to her and when she couldn’t find it, she sat up in panic, only to see the said man’s focus in his drawing pad.

Hannibal’s marron eyes looked up into his wife’s and he got up to place a kiss on her forehead before checking the clock. It was past their usual breakfast time. (Y/n) asked him if they could eat some pancakes this morning and Hannibal just laughed before rushing her two the washroom, following behind her closely. After their morning routine and a few sneaky kisses, Hannibal prepared pancakes for the two of them in the kitchen while (y/n) started on some marking.

“When do you plan to have that feast, darling?” At this, Hannibal looked up, stopping his actions momentarily before responding, “How about this weekend? You’re free and I won’t put a body out for them, making them free too.” She snorted at that. It caused Hannibal to smile. She always loved his dry sense of humour. Maybe that’s why she got along with Will that day. The rest of their breakfast passed in comfortable silence. The sound of piano music playing in the background kept them company.

After breakfast was when the talk of the great feast started. Hannibal wanted to get this done and over with while (y/n) wanted to drag it out as long as she possibly could. It wasn’t every day that you finally came out of the shadows. They talked about who to invite and who to not invite. Hannibal nearly lost it when his wife mentioned that she wanted to invite Freddie Lounds and Dr. Chilton. The rest of the list were just people from work. Bryce, Zeller, Katz, Crawford, Bloom and Graham along with Margot Verger. Hannibal looked towards his wife, her bright eyes gleamed with excitement and she had a barely concealed smile on her face.

He loved seeing her like this, it always made him so happy. Especially when she saw the bodies that he had dedicated to her. Seeing her like this was how she saw him when he read the poetry written about him. He took her left hand gently in his, the long acrylics she had slightly digging into his skin, Hannibal’s fingers went to play with her wedding band as she talked about the party. They were both excited, really excited.

It was on Monday that Hannibal gave out the invites to everyone. Will just nodded his head awkwardly and muttered something about coming while Alana just raised her eyebrow and nodded her head, Jack also mentioned that he would come and bring Bella along with Him. Beverly was the one most excited about the invitation. Hannibal gently smiled at her before going back to help Will.

At home, Hannibal’s darling wife was tearing apart their shared closet in order to look for the perfect outfits. Spoiler, she didn’t find one. (Y/n) was frustrated, everything she owned was pretty, yes, but it was not something that she would wear to a party in which they were the hosts. No, that simply wouldn’t do, so instead the young woman set out to her favourite seamstress. An old Russian lady who knew exactly what she wanted everything single time. Throwing on a coat and some gloves, (y/n) rushed to her car and drove off to Ludmila’s house. An hour or so later she reached the house. Parking her car nicely, the young woman exited her car before climbing up the stairs to knock on the door. However, before she could get a knock in, the door was pulled open by Ludmila who looked pleased to see her. The older woman pulled her in and ushered her to the couch and told her to sit while she got some tea and biscuits.

After their little snack and tea time was done, Ludmila pulled out her drawing pad and began to work on exactly what (y/n) had wanted. The younger woman was filled with so many ideas, the only downside was that she didn’t know how to sew. Ludmila thought that the woman was a secret vampire, not that she would ever tell her that. No, but her and her husband looked like they were Morticia and Gomez Addams. Always so happy over the grimmest of things. (Y/n) had left 3 hours later, after choosing the fabric of the dress and approving the design that she liked. It wasn’t a difficult job, she was just picky.

On the drive back home, she glanced at the time, realizing that it was far later than she thought and Hannibal must be home already, preparing dinner. Parking her cherry red mustang beside Hannibal’s car, (y/n) exited the car and grabbed the huge amount of bags that filled the back seats. She had stopped for a little errand that turned into a shopping trip, not that Hannibal minded. It was like the said man smelled her and opened the door. Hannibal glanced at the bags in her hands before grabbing them and greeting his wife with loving kisses on both of her cheeks.

“I see you did a little shopping today my dove, how was it?” Hannibal had retreated back to the kitchen by the time his question was done. His darling wife sat in front of him on a bar stool before sighing and answering, “Don't even ask, first I went to Ludmila’s for a dress I just commissioned and then what was supposed to be a short errant turned into a shopping haul. I grabbed you a few ties.” Hannibal smiled at his wife’s sentiment of always grabbing him something. No matter what she did or where she was, she always got him something.

For dinner the two dined on some lamb and pasta complimented by red wine and then followed by some lava cake. Hannibal had taken his wife’s feet in his lap and was rubbing them softly, the two conversed about the theme of the party and (y/n) had mentioned that she wanted something dark themed. Like always. Hannibal compiled since he thought that the decorations of the house were already very fitting. Changing them to a lighter theme would’ve been a hassle, one that he wasn’t up for. His wife’s silk nightgown brushed against his arm before she came and sat down in his lap, her hand caressing his hair. Hannibal purred like a cat, tilting his head back to lean into her touch more.

The day of the big feast was coming closer than ever, two weeks had already passed since the initial invite was sent out and the party was this weekend. Ludmila had dropped the dress off earlier today and (y/n) was in love. It was exactly what she wanted but somehow Ludmila’s work was better than something her imagination could ever conjure. Hannibal let a small gasp when he saw the dress, it was barely audible but his wife still heard it. She grinned, her canines showing slightly. It’s a beautiful dress. A deep red colour that was done in tulle and some satin fabric thrown in. The tulle wrapped around her shoulders in an off the shoulder fashion leaving her collarbones and shoulders exposed. The rest of the dress wrapped around her chest and waist in a corset look before falling behind her in a very gilded fashion. The under layer of the skirt was made from a deeper red satin and the tulle fell over it as another layer. The dress was a masterpiece. Hannibal couldn’t take his eyes away from the dress, his mind wandering to how she would look in it. The back was a lace up corset. One of his favourite looks on his wife.

The day of the party was something. Hannibal had taken a day off from work and consultation and focused solely on the food while (y/n) was cleaning and dusting the little trinkets they had lying around the house. Her favourite one was the skull named Steve, he was a fun guy. The flower arrangements had been done and set already and the only thing left to do was fix the trinkets a little before heading up and getting ready. The trinkets were fixed in no time and it was also when Hannibal was done cooking. (Y/n) peered into the kitchen before smiling at Hannibal and grabbing his hand and tugging the two of them upstairs. Once they were upstairs, the couple quickly shaded their clothes and hopped into the shower. It was a really relaxing shower, one that Hannibal had actually felt relaxed in. After getting out and drying themselves and lotioning. Hannibal helped his wife into her dress, lacing her up tightly while placing small kisses down her neck and shoulders. An act like this always made her smile, a soft gentle smile, like the one she had now.

(Y/n) had gone dark with her makeup, a siren eye look with a deep red lipstick to match her dress. Hannibal pulled out a choker that he had customized for his wife, it was diamond with rubies decorating it with matching earrings. She looked like a true vampire. Really. Hannibal had matched his wife in a dark black suit and a red tie. Anyone who saw them would definitely think that they’re immortal.

The first guest to come was Will who had bright Winston with him. Hannibal opened the door to let him in and lead him to sit down. Will asked for (y/n) but all Hannibal did was give him a secretive look. Will wondered what she looked like. He knew that she would look beautiful like always. The second to arrive were Alana and Margot, Hannibal knew that something was between them, they only proved it by showing up together. He invited them in and led them to Will who greeted them with an awkward smile. Alana returned the smile while Margot just nodded her head in his general direction.

Bryce, Zeller and Beverly showed up together. They looked wonderful and matched the dark theme. Hannibal could taste Beverly’s excitement and she could smell Will's awkwardness, which is why she rushed over to him as fast as she could. Freddrick Chilton and Freddie Lounds showed up together and Jack and his wife showed up not long after them. They were all here before the timing on the card, something that Hannibal appreciated.

Hannibal clapped his hands before gathering everyone’s attention and calling his wife down. (Y/n) knew how to make an entrance. She really did, she could hear all the gasps that were let out by the invited guests. The women in the party were absolutely in love with (y/n). They loved her dress and the way she carried herself. She was truly beautiful. Jack was just confused as to how he didn’t figure out that Hannibal was married. Nonetheless, he was happy to be here.

The party was in full swing with the guests conversing with (y/n) and marveling at how much of a genius she was. Hannibal admired his wife a lot. She was always there for him through everything. Her and Alana became fast and good friends by the end of the dinner and she loved Beverly and Will already. He loved seeing her like this, so free.

It was around 12am when everyone bid goodbye. Later than most of his parties. (Y/n) hugged all the guests goodbye before waving at them and closing the door. She sighed and Hannibal laughed. He led her upstairs this time and helped her out of her dress before setting a bath for the two of them. In the bath, Hannibal removed his already sleeping wife’s makeup. He could tell how exhausted she was and let her rest in the bathtub for 20 minutes before waking her up and pulling her out. Once she was all dried, he tugged on her sage coloured satin nightgown before tugging on his own night suit. Hannibal fell asleep comfortably that night. With his wife passed out on his chest and her leg thrown over his waist. He fell asleep comfortably and with a smile on his face. A smile that indicated that he was happy to introduce his wife to his world.

Tagging my babes: @chchchcheni @shawty-writes-a-little

#Hannibal #Hannibal lecter x reader #Hannibal lecter x reader smut #Hannibal lecter x reader fluff #Hannibal lecter #Hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal #will graham x reader #will Graham #Hannibal x reader imagine #mads mikkelsen #Hugh dancy

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ringneckedpheasant · 6 months

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compassion / calm / comfort

[ID: A tarot card done in blues, creams, and orangey-browns. The art on the card is a qunari in his kitchen, smiling warmly and holding a plastic pitcher of iced tea while he leans back against the counter. He has brown skin and freckles and his dark curly hair is half up, with the rest falling past his shoulders. He is wearing a nose ring, dangly earrings, a hamsa necklace, a wedding ring with two dark stones, and western wear—a light, pearl snap shirt with a floral pattern on the chest and the first two snaps undone; women’s jeans that are held up by a braided leather belt with a big silver buckle. On one side of him, two cups sit on the countertop, and on the other there is an old milk jug filled with flowers. Soft light spills through the window behind him.

The border of the card is dark blue, with text that reads “Queen of Cups” in a gothic font. Small geometric rosettes bookend the text. end ID]

#ehsaan adaar #adaar #dragon age #da:i #dragon age: inquisition #inquisitor adaar #marcusart #I love herrrrr #described

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saltyseadogsworld · 24 days

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It’s giving merperson, it’s giving gentlebeard

#ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #merperson

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aeon-borealis · 8 months

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Random AleHeather Headcanons

-I honestly think Alejandro and Heather would be childfree by choice. Heather isn't fond of her younger siblings and her parents were more than ready to push her out of the house. Alejandro has a very strained, tumultuous relationship with his family.

I like to think they'd build a found family between each other, friends, and others they meet along the way. Both are trying to work through personal shit as well as Total Drama baggage. Neither wants to put a potential kid through what they've been through. They both have wants, goals, and ambitions that don't leave time for kids. Neither wants the stress that'd come with pregnancy and a crying baby either. That's just my take, though.

-Heather wants a big house with a walk-in closet and filled with lots of nice, posh furniture and luxury items. Both Alejandro and Heather have a few high-fashion outfits and at least one Louis Vuitton bag.

-Alejandro was already gender non-conforming in World Tour with his shoulder length hair and earrings. In All Stars, he said he put time and effort into "manscaping." He already has femme-leaning gender expression, so I think he'd go further into "fuck gender" as he gets older. He'd have some skirts in his closet. He wears make-up. He carries purses and calls them purses. His style is low-key, but he slays.

-Both Alejandro and Heather are Sims fanatics. They're the kind of gamers that Sims is the only video game they're interested in if/when they have time. Heather's favorite Sim is Dina Caliente and she has a laundry list of reasons to justify Dina's gold-digging leanings.

Alejandro's favorite Sim is Nina Caliente. He's a hopeless romantic at heart and when he feels charitable, he makes Don Lothario give up womanizing and realize he likes the idea of a quiet, domestic life with Nina. Alejandro also has a soft spot for Olive Specter. He loves her "Gothic love story" with the Grim Reaper.

-Both Alejandro and Heather want a huge, grandiose wedding. Only a few family members are invited; the rest are their short list of friends. It's a destination wedding and they foot the bill for their guests. And they're a very happy, sappy couple.

A wedding is after years of therapy and overcoming trauma together. If I dream up endgame Aleheather, they're gonna be a healthy hetero couple that learned how to work together. I think more media needs that shit in general and I'm gonna include that in my fan works because I want more of that, dammit.

#aleheather

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eileenccfolder · 1 year

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Wedding Bells CAS Challenge by @mickimagnum

CC links under the cut

Gothic: hair / earrings / necklace / dress / gloves / bouquet

Rustic: hat / hair / necklace / dress (Naomi) / bracelet / bouquet / boots

Alternative: flower crown / hair / earrings / dress / bouquet

Vintage: veil / hair / dress / bouquet / flats

Glam: veil / hair / earrings / necklace / dress / belt / bouquet

Elopement: hair / accessory jacket / jumpsuit / bouquet

Traditional: veil / hair / dress / bouquet

Winter: tiara / veil / hair / necklace / dress / bouquet

Minimalist: headband / hair / top / skirt / bouquet

#s4cc #ts4 lookbook #ts4cc #sims 4 #simblr #op

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torao-chan · 1 year

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thinking many touchstarved thoughts, as I have been want to do of late. specifically, leander thoughts.

leander has many mysteries and no answers in sight which leaves a wide range for questioning and theories.

flower symbolism in the white lilies; rebirth and purity, for weddings and funerals, sympathy. potential play on oleanders; desire, destiny, caution, and romantic love.

but realistically, i don’t think leander is a stand in for oleander- i think it’s meant to be leander. as in hero and leander.

the ties with rebirth and femininity have been discussed already, rebirth especially, and the fact that eridia is bisected by a river also plays well into the myth. leanders notable avoidance for sleep and hate of napping is also fascinating, with the myth in mind- it was hero falling asleep and letting the light fade from her lamp that lead to his death, after all. he certainly seems to have a lamp around his waist, too. he’ll never be without a light in the dark again. it could be just symbolism, but, well.

the word ‘hero’ gets thrown around a lot in his intro. perhaps it’s just a coincidence. it’s also a coincidence that we end up dubbed sparrow by ais? hero was in a tower... will we be kept apart from leander by being locked in the senobium, I wonder?

leander in the mythos was said to be a charming young man, and one who persuaded hero to lie with him and break her celibacy. that surely aphrodite, the goddess she was a priestess too, wouldn’t mind. perhaps that’s where the divine feminine comes into play?

the ourobous in his earring is also tied to rebirth, the continuous cycle of life and death.

a lot of people have theorised a yandere route. gothic fiction has many themes, but the one standing out to me is “ the intrusion of the past upon the present ” .

hmm. so many thoughts. so little cohesion at the moment.

perhaps this will end with another lovers burial?

#personal #just thoughts #lots of thoughts #all swirling around in my head #touchstarved #ts theory

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totowlff · 1 year

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chapter thirty — waltzes and wreaths

➝ no cameras, no pressure. on that night in helsinki, they were just liesl and toto.

➝ word count: 4,4k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author notes: a sweet chapter to a sweet week in my life. don't get used to it.

SEPTEMBER, 2016

The late afternoon sun cast its golden glow on the gardens and the imposing red brick steeples of the church. Gazing up at the green patina of the roof tiles as they glinted in the sunlight, Elisabeth held her nude clutch in her hands. The chilly Finnish autumn breeze ruffled the dark blue dress she was wearing, and a few strands of her hair, loose from her elegant bun, danced in the breeze.

"I should have brought a coat,' she thought, looking down at the aquamarine ring on her left hand. Shifting her feet, she tried to move a little bit, discreetly, trying to warm up a little bit.

— Are you cold, Liesl? — someone whispered in her ear, the heat of their breath making her skin tingle. Elisabeth glanced to the right and saw Toto, a mischievous smile on his face. He was the epitome of elegance in the tailored suit he was wearing, paired with a gray tie.

— A little, darling — she said, tugging at the sleeves of her dress. It did little to project her from the brisk air.

Toto wrapped his arm around her back, rubbing his hand against her left arm in an attempt to warm her up. It made Elisabeth smile as she looked up at him.

— It was nicer inside the church, wasn't it?

— Yes, definitely — Elisabeth replied, leaning into Toto, trying to capture some of his body heat. He continued to rub his hands along her arm, the friction chasing the chill off of her skin. Meanwhile, her eyes drifted toward the imposing dark wooden doors of the cathedral. They were still closed, but it was only a matter of time before the newlyweds, Valtteri and Emilia, would exit the narthex of the neo-Gothic cathedral to greet their assembled guests, who were all waiting for them outside.

Elisabeth was still a little surprised to be in Helsinki, witnessing the couple exchanging rings and vows of love. She’d witnessed the two exchanging rings and vows, and a shy kiss from Valtteri to his bride’s cheek. After what had happened in Monaco the year before, she hadn’t expected their relationship to last more than a few weeks, let alone make it to their wedding date.

The day after the Amber Lounge Fashion Show, she ran into Emilia in the paddock. Her pale eyes were puffy and red. Elisabeth figured that her night hadn't been pleasant. Elisabeth took her out for coffee, and Emilia recounted, her voice cracking, how she arrived at Valtteri's apartment in Monte-Carlo after the fashion show to find him watching qualifying videos. The coffee table in the living room was completely covered in paper, all printed out with graphs and tables of telemetry data. He was completely absorbed.

When Emilia asked why he hadn’t come to the fashion show, he brushed it off, saying he needed to focus on qualifying and the race, not “mindless events”, as he called it. They started arguing about their support for each other, and whether or not he was truly dedicated to their relationship. With tears in her eyes, Emilia said that she was no longer sure if she really wanted to be with Valtteri, as it didn’t seem that he wanted to be with her. Elisabeth tried to help as best as she could, offering a listening ear, a kind shoulder to cry on, advice, and a place to stay if she needed it. Emilia was grateful for it, but never asked for it.

A few months later, Elisabeth was surprised by a message she’d gotten from Emilia. It was in all capital letters. “I SAID YES!” There was a picture of her and Valtteri attached to the message, Emilia holding up her left hand, showing off the diamond engagement ring.

— She's getting married — Elisabeth stammered, zooming in on the ring, incredulous

— Who's getting married? — Toto asked, sliding next to her on the sofa.

— Emilia.

— To whom? — he asked.

She looked up at him.

— To Valtteri, who else would it be?

Toto blinked, surprised.

— I thought they split up after what happened in Monaco?

— Apparently not — she murmured, staring at the photo again.

A short time later, they received an official invitation, confirming the date after the Olympics in Rio de Janeiro, in which Emilia would compete, and two European races, which made it easier for Valtteri to travel. They’d chosen Helsinki, the capital city of Finland. The guest list was small, as both of them wanted to only share their special day with the people closest to them.

In a way, Elisabeth couldn't help but feel honored to be included, given how small the guest list was. Both she and Toto doted on Emilia and Valtteri. However, as Elisabeth sat on a pew in the church, watching the couple sing one of the hymns printed on the programs, she couldn’t shake the feeling that marriage wasn’t right for them, but she didn’t ever bring it up to Emilia — she didn’t want to ruin what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of hers and Valtteri’s lives.

A sound drew Elisabeth's attention to the top of the stairs. The usher had just opened the dark wooden doors, and Emilia and Valtteri emerged. Valtteri was wearing a suit with a gray tie and a white rose pinned to his lapel, and Emilia wore a sleeveless dress, rich with details in the lace. The layers of organza made it look light and dreamy as it flowed behind her. Elisabeth had already seen pictures of the dress. It was designed by a Finnish designer named Katri Niskanen. However, when she saw her in the church, with her hair tied in a low bun and a bouquet of white flowers in her hand, Elisabeth was sure that Valtteri had won the lottery.

Emilia was beautiful.

Upon stepping outside the church, the couple greeted their guests, who applauded and whistled for them. Emilia lifted the bouquet playfully, which provoked a few chuckles among those present. After someone shouted for a kiss from the couple, Valtteri, with red cheeks, gave in, taking his lips to Emilia's cheek, placing a chaste kiss on her.

— They seem kinda shy, huh? — Toto murmured beside Elisabeth. She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised.

— Would you do it differently?

He smiled.

— Perhaps.

— What would you do differently?

— I won't tell you, Liesl.

— Why not?

— Because it's a surprise.

— Surprise?

— Yes — Toto replied, slipping a hand around her waist — A surprise for the day you become Mrs. Wolff.

Elisabeth turned to face him.

— You mean you want me to be Mrs. Wolff?

— Well, only if you want to, of course. Although ‘Mrs. Lauda-Wolff’ sounds more powerful, doesn't it?

— I like them both — Elisabeth replied, watching Emilia hug a woman wearing a hat with a brim that was a little too big, while Valtteri chatted with a couple beside her.

— I think you mean sexier, baby — he whispered in her ear, a sly smile playing on his lips. Tilting her head to look at him, Elisabeth smiled.

— Perhaps, Mr. Wolff — she said, receiving a kiss on the head in return.

It didn't take long for Emilia and Valtteri to approach them to greet them. Emilia wrapped Elisabeth in a warm hug, thanking her for attending.

— It's me… Well, me and Toto who should thank you for the invitation — she said, backing away from Emilia to look into her blue eyes — We are very happy to witness this beautiful moment, aren't we, my love?

— Yes, very — Toto completed, placing a hand on Elisabeth's shoulder — We just think that kiss lacked some emotion, Valtteri.

She elbowed him in the ribs, as she noticed that Valtteri's face was turning a deep scarlet. Toto laughed, squeezing Valtteri’s shoulder, while Emilia took her new husband's hand, smiling.

— I think he's saving it all for the party, Toto — she replied — After the first gin and tonic, I'm sure he'll be more cheerful, won't you, darling?

— Definitely — Valtteri said, looking a little distracted — Shall we say hello to the rest of the guests, Emppu?

Emilia nodded, giving Elisabeth one last hug before continuing to say hello to the rest of the attendees. As she watched the two of them, Elisabeth couldn't help but feel like something was wrong with Valtteri. While Emilia seemed elated, Valtteri looked distant, the few smiles he gave seemed forced. He was the first person Elisabeth had ever seen that didn’t look happy on his own wedding day, and that worried her.

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest.

— Is everything okay, Liesl? — she heard Toto whisper in her ear. He sounded concerned. — Do you need anything? Do you want to go somewhere quieter?

Ever since the anxiety attack she'd had in Belgium, he'd always seemed on the lookout for any change in Elisabeth's mood, especially in public. She’d had her first session with her new therapist a few days ago, and she felt a little bit better afterward, but she had noticed that Toto was keeping an eye on her, trying to take care of her in even simple ways. Whether it was a kiss on the top of her head, a reassuring touch to the base of her spine or a simple “I love you” whispered in her ear, he seemed to make a point of making her feel safe and loved, especially when they were in public.

Little did he know how much that meant to her.

— I'm fine. I was just thinking.

— About what?

Elisabeth pressed her lips together. This was definitely not the place to talk about how cold and distant Valtteri seemed.

— How happy Emilia is.

He looked at Emilia, who was laughing at something that Mika Hakkinen said as they were standing near the car that would take them to the reception.

— She’s beaming — Toto murmured, moving his hand from Elisabeth’s shoulder to her waist, drawing her in closer to him — But you'll be beaming even more when it's your turn.

Elisabeth raised an eyebrow.

— You're talking a lot about weddings today, Toto.

— I'm inspired, I guess. What do you want me to say?

— Is there something you want to tell me?

He chuckled, planting a kiss on her temple.

— Soon, Liesl.

As she watched Valtteri and Emilia climb into the black Mercedes S500 Maybach and drive away to the sound of applause and whistles, Elisabeth couldn’t help but wonder what her turn would be like — what she wanted her wedding to be like.

She definitely wanted a summer wedding. She wanted it outdoors, maybe in Ibiza, near her parents' house. Or maybe in Sardinia, overlooking the deep blue sea that washed over the shores of Porto Cervo. Her dress would be simple — nothing with frills, lace, or tulle. The ceremony would be intimate, limited only to immediate family and very close friends.

She would walk down the aisle to the sound of soft music, escorted by her father, who would obviously be wearing his trademark red cap - even for the most important moment in his daughter’s life. When handing her off to Toto, Niki would probably make some funny comment about the two of them. The ceremony and their vows would be full of laughter After all, it was what their relationship was about: joy.

Well, that’s how it should be, at least.

— Liesl, shall we go to the van? — Toto asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

— Yes, let’s go — she replied.

The trip to Kulosaari Casino was smooth. They shared a ride with the other guests, who neither of them knew. They didn’t say anything for the entire trip, preferring to sit hand-in-hand, listening to Emilia and Valtteri’s friends chattering excitedly in Finnish.

— Who knew they could be animated? — Elisabeth whispered in Toto’s ear

— I think we’re so used to the way Kimi and Valtteri are — Toto replied, making Elisabeth laugh.

When the van stopped and the door slid open, they had arrived. The building was built in a classical style with a cream-colored exterior. The entrance was decorated with white flowers, the same ones that were in Emilia's bouquet. As she and Toto two crossed the bridge that led to the building, Elisabeth couldn't help but feel awed by the landscape stretching out around her, the setting sun glistening over the waters of the Gulf of Finland.

“Beautiful”, she thought.

They were greeted by an usher, who directed them to go up the stairs towards the hall. The room was beautifully decorated with flowers and lights, with tables scattered around a large space reserved for the dance floor.

— Your names, please? — a man, who she assumed was the maître d', asked them, his English heavily accented.

— Elisabeth Lauda and Toto Wolff — she replied, smiling.

The man led them to a table where Antti, Valtteri's trainer, and his partner, Cristina, were already seated. They all exchanged greetings, and she took the seat marked by a placecard with her name on it, right next to Toto. It wasn't long before he started talking to Antti about Williams' season and Valtteri's consistent results.

Glancing at the woman beside the fitness coach, Elisabeth smiled.

— The decorations are very nice, aren’t they?

Cristina smiled.

— They are. Emilia has extraordinary good taste.

The two began to talk and Elisabeth found herself strangely comfortable talking to the other woman. She had never been one to make small talk, preferring more direct dialogue. However, there was something different about that day. For once, she didn't feel pressured to play the role of Elisabeth Lauda, the businesswoman and daughter of Niki Lauda. For the first time in what felt like forever, she could finally be a normal woman who was attending her friend’s wedding, with no expectations beyond that. She could finally be Liesl.

Some time later, Mika and his partner, Marketa, joined them, sitting in the empty seats at the table. It didn't take long for the former driver to strike up an easy conversation as they were talking about something he mastered like no one else. However, some time later, he turned to Elisabeth.

— And how is your father, Elisabeth?

— He's fine, Mika.

— I imagine he was surprised to hear about you two — he said. Elisabeth looked at Toto, who squeezed her hand lightly.

— Actually, he was expecting it. In his words, he thought we'd get along because we both like the same boring things — she explained, laughing.

— I imagine Niki hasn't made things easy for you, Toto.

— Actually, it was Liesl who made things difficult at first. But, after some talking, we managed to sort it out and we're just fine — he replied, taking Elisabeth’s right hand and placing a kiss on top of the diamonds that decorated her ring finger, his lips warm against the cold metal.

The sun was already sinking into the horizon when Valtteri and Emilia entered the hall to a round of fervent applause from their guests. They settled at the table reserved for the two of them. After they sat down, dinner began.

The trout mousseline with marinated shrimp, fennel, and avocado cream was tasty. As was the porcini mushroom soup, served with a rosemary muffin. A big surprise for Elisabeth was the roast reindeer loin, with potato fondant and blackcurrant sauce — she thought the strong, gamey flavor of the meat was perfectly balanced with the sweetness of the sauce.

While the waiters prepared the tables for dessert, Mika excused himself, getting up from the table. A few other men around the room did as well. Minutes later, they returned with ski masks, heading directly to the bridal table and taking Emilia with them. Then Laura, Valtteri's sister, announced that the bride had been kidnapped and that she would only be returned after the groom fulfilled some tasks.

The tradition was not new to Elisabeth. The “kidnapping” of the bride was quite common at wedding parties in Austria. She had Lukas who had planned one for Mathias and Claire's wedding. Seeing her brother wearing a Real Madrid jersey and singing the anthem of the team he hated so much to get his bride back was something she would never forget.

In order for Emilia to return to the hall, Valtteri had to answer a few questions, as well as sing a song and recite a love poem about his wife. He also had to do some push-ups and drink a generous quantity of Finnish vodka.

When Emilia was brought back into the hall, the couple exchanged a peck, to the sound of applause and whistles from those present. Then, they went to the table where their wedding cake was set up. It was decorated with white flowers and gold details, ocean waves and a Formula 1 car. As they cut the first slice, a sharp tap on the floor, followed by giggles from Emilia, had the guests laughing.

— She's in charge now, eh, Valtteri! — Mika shouted, with a laugh.

After everyone was served cake, Strawberries Romanov, and creme brulee, everyone was invited to the dance floor, where the bride and groom would do their first dance. Surrounded by friends and family, Valtteri and Emilia whirled around the room, a spotlight shining directly on them creating an ethereal atmosphere for the moment. After, Emilia's father and Valtteri's mother were invited to dance with their children, followed by her mother and his father.

Then, the dance floor was cleared for the guests.

— Would you do me the honor of a dance, Miss Lauda? — Toto whispered in Elisabeth’s ear. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

— You know how to dance?

He laughed.

— Being the most ill-behaved man in Vienna has taught me a few things.

— And how to waltz is one of them?

— Exactly.

Now, Elisabeth laughed.

— I would love to dance with you then, Mr. Wolff — she replied. Toto took her hand and led her to the center of the dance floor. She stood in front of him as the ambient lights dimmed, creating a romantic atmosphere. Then, with one hand on her waist and the other firmly around her hand, Toto gently led her in time with the music, back and forth, around the room.

Toto wasn't lying when he said he could waltz. It shouldn't come as a surprise, considering he was from Vienna, the birthplace of the waltz. However, at the same time, Elisabeth couldn't help but feel surprised.

She wondered what other hidden talents and tricks Toto had hidden up his sleeve besides knowing how to dance — and the ability to do amazing things with his tongue. Toto released her from his hold, spinning her around and bringing her close to him again, holding her close, their eyes fixed on each other.

There was something magical about that moment. It wasn't just the fact that she was dancing with the man she loved, it went beyond that. It was the first time that they’d been able to go to a social event that wasn’t for work. They were together, for the first time, in a genuine way, without having to pretend that their relationship was strictly professional. Elisabeth couldn't help but feel genuinely happy for the first time in over two years.

It wasn’t that the moments they'd spent together so far hadn't made her happy, but there was always something bittersweet about them, like the picture was incomplete. They were always full of excuses and lies. Full of sad looks and promises that everything would be better one day.

And now, ‘one day’ had finally arrived.

Toto spun her around again, and Elisabeth realized that she was finally experiencing the taste of love. Not the version with the sour hints of having to keep secrets, but the pure, sweet version that melted on her tongue and warmed her chest.

It was the version that she’d wanted from the moment her eyes first met his.

Facing him again, Elisabeth couldn't wait for the end of the song. Moving closer to his face, she said three words in a thin voice.

— I love you.

The song ended, the lights in the room went back up, and his face became more visible. He looked elated. Then, suddenly, he bent down and lifted her by the waist, the same way he had done so many times before so that their faces were on the same level, Elisabeth's feet suspended in the air.

— I love you more — Toto replied, brushing his nose against hers. Elisabeth's heart was beating so fast in her chest that she thought it would explode, a familiar warmth spreading through her body — Much more than you can imagine, Liesl.

With a soft kiss on the lips, he set her back on the ground just before another, more upbeat song began to play through the speakers. He didn't even have to ask her if she wanted to dance with him again before Elisabeth took his hand and started following the rhythm, a wide smile on her face.

The two danced to a few songs together, Elisabeth's excitement at the first chords of an Abba song making Toto laugh. However, after a few songs, her feet were aching because of her shoes, and a little thirsty after singing Lay All Your Love On Me at the top of her lungs, both of them returned to their empty table.

Elisabeth was about to let go of his hand to sit in her chair when Toto pulled her to him, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap. She couldn't hold back a laugh, wrapping an arm around her neck. Then, he removed the shoes from her feet, gently. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.

— Better, Liesl?

— Much better — she replied, wiggling her toes — I should have chosen a more comfortable pair of shoes.

— Definitely. Not even four songs in and you're already sitting down complaining about the pain in your feet. It was so fun to see you singing all out of tune...

Elisabeth looked at Toto, indignant.

— I wasn’t out of tune. I'm much better than you, by the way.

— I disagree, baby — he smiled.

— You didn't even know the words to Hooked on a Feeling — she exclaimed — And we listen to that song all the time!

— I sang it well.

— If you're referring to the ooga chaka part, then yes, you sang it well.

He let out a laugh, tightening his arms around her.

— I love you, you know that?

— Yes, I know — Elisabeth smiled, placing her lips on his.

They stayed at the table for a while, drinking champagne and talking. They returned to the dance floor as soon as Elisabeth recognized the first few notes of You Give Love A Bad Name. She was already barefoot by that point, and her brown hair was loose down her back. Toto had abandoned his jacket and tie, and his white shirt had the first few buttons undone.

They were exchanging whispers and kisses in a corner of the floor when suddenly, the music stopped. Shouts of elation coming from the middle of the room only ceased when Emilia asked all the women who were not married to go to the middle of the room.

— Should I? — Elisabeth asked Toto.

— I think so, you're not married.

— We are married. Well, half-married.

— There's no such thing as being half-married, Liesl.

— Well, for us there is.

— No, there is no such thing.

— Yes there is. We're half-married.

— Liesl, stop arguing and go — he growled. Elisabeth scowled at him as Toto gave her ass a not-so-gentle squeeze before she went to the center of the room, but not before patting his hand in reprimand.

When she got there, she found several of Emilia and Valtteri's female friends and relatives with anxious looks on their faces. Elisabeth had no idea what was going on, but she saw Cristina standing next to her. Maybe she could explain.

— Why are we here?

— The crown ceremony. It’s a Finnish wedding tradition.

— What happens?

— Emilia will take that wreath of flowers in her hand and, with her eyes closed, will place it on the head of one of us. Whoever she chooses will be the next person to marry.

“Like throwing the bouquet, but without the blood or hair pulling,” Elisabeth thought.

Guided by Valtteri's sister, the women formed a circle around Emilia. In her hands, she had a wreath of white flowers similar to the ones in her bouquet, and her eyes were covered with a piece of white cloth. Laura spun her sister-in-law a few times to confuse her, and told her to hand over her crown.

Emilia took a few seconds to regain her balance before taking a few steps forward, staggering a little, which elicited a few giggles. She started to walk around the circle of women thoughtfully, stopping in front of a few before continuing. However, as soon as she passed in front of Elisabeth, Emilia stopped.

— It's you — she said, placing the crown on Elisabeth’s head, before lifting the blindfold and finding out who she had declared the next woman to walk down the aisle. Amid applause and whistles, Emilia hugged Elisabeth tightly.

— See? It means you deserve to be happy with the man that you love — Emilia said.

Looking back to the corner of the room, where Toto was standing, smiling, Elisabeth responded with just four words.

— And I will be.

After the party photographer took a picture of the two of them, Elisabeth walked back to Toto's corner of the dance floor, a wide smile on his face. As she approached him, he wrapped her body in an embrace, placing a kiss on her forehead, just below where the flowers were perched in her hair.

— I think the universe is trying to tell me something today, Liesl — he said softly, a smile on his face.

— It is?

— Yeah. It’s telling me that being half-married to you isn't enough anymore.

She laughed.

— So you agree that you're half-married to me?

— Don't start with that — he muttered, rolling his eyes.

— But we are. We do everything a married couple does. We share a bed, a house, bills, problems… We just haven’t signed the papers.

Toto snorted.

— Since we're practically married now, remind me that the next time we're in Vienna, we should stop by the Standesamt. That way, we can sign the papers right away.

Elisabeth raised an eyebrow.

— Is this your way of asking me to marry you, Torger Christian Wolff?

— Perhaps — he smiled.

— You must be drunk.

— I'm fine, Liesl.

— You just can't ask me to marry you like that.

— Like what?

She blinked.

— In the middle of a wedding party, completely out of your mind.

— I told you I'm fine, Liesl.

— You don’t seem to be.

Toto huffed.

— Can you stop teasing me?

— Never, my love — she smiled, lifting her face to his.

— Good to know — he chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

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