#wedding au fanfiction

[bangtanhoneys]

BTS WEDDING SERIES: Ceremony Time!

SEOKJIN

He had drunk about six bottles of water, one glass of whiskey, had made around ten trips to the bathroom and walked seven laps around Yoongi’s hotel bedroom while he waited for the time to tick. It hadn’t taken long to put on his designer suit, hadn’t taken too long for the make up and hair stylist to do what they needed to do, photographs and videos to be taken and it hadn’t even taken that long to get downstairs to the garden where the ceremony was going to take place 

While Seokjin had been used to waiting around for award ceremonies, photoshoots, recordings and the like, this time it was completely different. Waiting for the woman of his dreams to walk down the aisle as the pianist played generic music in the background was causing anxiety levels to be kicked up to the max. 

Waiting and waiting. 

All eyes of the guests were on him, even as he stood up there with his six brothers and his actual older brother. There were excited murmurs over what was going to be the first BTS wedding and what he, as the eldest, was going to pull off. 

He turned his back, as instructed by the officiant, to the aisle and stared straight ahead as he clasped his hands to the front. The music slowly changed to an instrumental version of his own song, Epiphany, something you had picked personally. He could hear the lyrics flow through his head as the pianist played the chorus. 

He could hear the gasps, could hear the whispers, could feel his brother gently nudge his arm but he didn’t turn. Not until he felt your hand slip into his, fingers locking together, a promise of a lifetime, that he finally turned to smile at you.

“Ready?” you asked, grip tightening.

“For you? I’ll wait a lifetime.”

YOONGI

The fact he had married you only days before had settled his nerves. However, doing a semi-formal traditional Korean ceremony in front of everyone made every hair stand on end and it didn’t help that all morning he had nothing but teasing from the guys, how he was marrying you all over again even though you were already married. 

And of course, he swore he wouldn’t cry but the sight of you in your dress made him swallow hard and blink a few times to keep said tears at bay. 

Throughout the whole ceremony, he kept one eye on you and one eye on the MC before him. The wording and the bowing and the drinking of the wine flowed over his head like it was nothing - he just wanted to get to the end where in the eyes of his Korean family, you two were finally husband and wife. 

A loud cheer made the world settle into place and he cupped your face, that loveable gummy smile on display and kissed your forehead. “Fully and completely mine now,” he said as he kept his forehead against your own.

“In the legal sense, Korean sense, BTS sense,” you replied with a small laugh as the congratulations flowed around you but you could see nothing but your groom in front of you and a long future ahead. 

As he had once said, the future's going to be okay. 

HOSEOK

“Hobi-hyung, you’re going to run out of tissues before she even gets here,” Jungkook scolded as he handed over a new pack to the man who had taken one look at the ceremony area and had promptly burst into tears. 

And it happened again as they all stood at the top of the aisle, waiting for your appearance. 

There were no words said when six handkerchiefs were passed down the line, ending up in Hobi’s hands. And no more words were said when his mother gently hugged him, whispered in his ear how beautiful you looked and no more words were said when the music finally changed.

He gasped as the 20,000 Swarovski crystals from the high ceiling of the cavernous ballroom sparkled along with the bodice of your dress. The bright flowers in the bouquet matching the wedding decor that you had carefully picked and how every thought and idea had gone into creating the wedding of your dreams. 

Hobi hadn’t realised you were in front of him until he felt your hands on his face, wiping the stains of his tears away. He pressed his lips to your knuckles once he took hold of your hands and looked straight into your eyes, as if there were no one else in the room. 

“I’m all yours now, my love.”

“I’m all yours as well, my hope.”

NAMJOON

It was becoming a bit of a running joke that morning as Jimin pointed to Namjoon’s smiling face and nudged Seokjin in the ribs. “He’s on cloud nine over there,” the mochi muttered with a giggle as the leader in question smiled at a guest who had congratulated him on his upcoming nuptials. 

“At least he isn’t nervous,” Yoongi sighed as he called at Namjoon for forgetting his tie. 

He wasn’t nervous, not in the slightest. He was marrying you in front of all your family and friends, ignoring the fact that there were also famous idols, celebrities, famous American singers and politicians in the guests numbers. If anything, he was a bubbling ball of happiness that had to be pulled down to earth when he was reminded it was time to get him married. 

It was as if being the leader of BTS had prepared him for this moment - the professional cameras in his face, the amount of people there to watch him finally marry the love of his life, the little hint of security around the area to stop anyone getting in, how he could keep calm in the face of it all and simply stand there, turned towards the aisle. 

Dimples were on complete show as he watched the bridesmaids walk down, stand on the other side of the aisle and he let out a deep breath when finally you appeared, looking gorgeous in the dress you had chosen to match the theme and the bouquet of flowers in ivory with more greenery than necessary to match. 

“At least you didn’t get lost on the way,” you gently teased as your fingers grasped his and squeezed.

“I’d always find you anyway.”

JIMIN

He had been a constant ball of nerves since he woke up that morning. Pure adrenaline was fueling him when he opened the curtains to his hotel room and went through his mental checklist for the day - meet the boys in half an hour, shower, change, meet photographers, meet the guests, go over everything with the wedding co-ordinator, make sure you were ready by checking with your sister, get to the aisle, get married, party. 

It repeated over and over in his head while he let his Yoongi-hyung finish the knot on his tie and made sure the wedding rings were in Taehyung’s pocket. He let his Namjoon-hyung check over his speech and got a thumbs up in return and watched as Jungkook, Jin-hyung and Hobi-hyung run errands between the two rooms. 

By the time they all got to the room, the guests were starting to arrive while oohing over the decor. Pink and gold, matching flowers on stands going down the aisle, a backdrop of white material with pink draping and gold clasps. 

“Here we go,” Jimin breathed and took the tissue Taehyung handed him, without realising he had been crying. There were many doubts and thoughts that made him think you weren’t going to show up but that all drifted away when the familiar tune of ‘Wedding Day’ by Taeyang was played on piano. 

Bridesmaids in gold dresses, drifted down with their pink flowers and the last one revealed you at the end in your light pink wedding dress. Doubts, thoughts, worries and issues were swept away with each step you took. Eyes caught yours, pinky fingers grasped together and you both turned to commit to a lifetime of promises. 

TAEHYUNG

The Ballroom was ready to go having been dressed the night before by the team in the theme you both had requested - red roses, glass and silver glitter. Attention to detail like never before and the theme had followed over in the room down the hallway, in the Le Grand Trianon where they had managed to squeeze in everyone. 

Celebrities, fashion designers, artists, idols, had taken every seat possible that hadn’t been reserved for your family. Everything had run smoothly from the moment he got up to the moment he put on his black dinner suit, long fingers coming up to fiddle with the bow tie until Namjoon-hyung gently slapped his fingers away for the fiftieth time. 

The red rose on his lapel had been sprayed with your perfume and he took a quick sniff, letting the floral scent wash over him while he listened to everyone talk in the background. He had no worries of you not turning up, of you not saying yes. But the longer it was taking the more he started to get worried. 

Maybe you had changed your mind the moment you saw the guests arriving. 

Yet, out of the corner of his eye, the wedding team gave a nod to the band where the saxophonist stood up. The beginning notes of Can’t Help Falling in Love played as the doors opened to reveal you in your art-deco themed wedding dress, a large bunch of red roses and baby breath held in your hand as your father walked you down the aisle. 

Your hands reached his, fingers twisting together as your eyes met as the lyrics came to mind ‘Take my hand, take my whole life to. For I can’t help, falling in love with you.’ That verse summed up perfectly the two of you as the saxophone played out the last notes. 

“Ready?” Taehyung asked, grinning while squeezing your fingers. 

“For the rest of my whole life.”

JUNGKOOK

Jungkook was vibing with excited nerves. He could hardly keep still even when the long arms of his Seokjin-hyung wrapped around him when he woke up in the morning, having spent the evening in the room with his two hyungs. Yoongi contently sleeping in the other bed, unaware of the chaos that would be brewing in the youngest.

They had kept him somewhat calm as he showered, got ready, and talked to his parents and his brother. Bam, dressed in a little bow tie, wagged his tail happily against Jungkook’s parents as the make up artist and hairstylist turned him into the idol JK. He would be Jungkook for his vows, but for now the idol persona swept in. 

The sound of the Busan sea let him breathe finally as he followed his parents and his hyungs out of the room, towards the garden where the chairs had been laid and the wedding decor of white flowers, hints of black and purple peeking through especially on the arch that been set up at the end of the aisle. 

The general music played around them as the guests started coming down the steps, heading towards the allocated seats. 

“You ready?” Seokjin asked, reaching over to give the golden maknae a quick squeeze on his shoulder. 

“Ready,” Jungkook nodded, though now he could feel the nerves. 

His three friends from the 97s group, Mingyu from Seventeen, Eun-woo from Astro and Yugeom from GOT7 sat at the side of the wedding ceremony area with a small band that had been secured through Big Hit. All three of them waved when they caught Jungkook’s eye.

There was silence for a moment as the wedding co-ordinator gave the nod to the officiant who nodded at the boys and slowly the beats from 10,000 Hours written by Dan + Shay with Justin Bieber began to play with the three idols singing. 

A tissue was pressed into his hand and Jungkook realised he was crying, his knees getting weak as Mingyu sang Justin Bieber’s part just as you started to walk down the aisle in your ivory dress and white flowers. 

“I’m gonna love you,” he sang quietly underneath his breath once you reached his side, realising you were crying just as much as he was. He pressed his side against yours, hands slipping into a tight grasp as the singing finished.

It was time. 

#bts fic #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts wedding au #bts wedding fic #bts wedding series #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

[meetmymouth]

Harry follows one of his friends outside as they’re looking for an appropriate place to smoke, one hand holding his glass of whiskey as the other finds comfort in one of his pockets. It’s hot in the marquee, so the sweet July breeze outside is more than welcome on his face.

So far, he’s taken a few photos with people he’s never seen in his life, and Harry hopes that the bride and the groom aren’t bothered.

He should be able to say no.

He really should.

Though, surrounded by friends and family, Harry feels like it’d be too much to say no to someone who obviously admires him and his music— admires him enough to want a photo with him.

His friend says something, and he laughs because he does, and he takes a sip from his drink, watching the flame from the lighter lick the end of his friend’s cigarette.

He’s enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the countryside when he sees a shadow, and feels another presence behind them.

He turns around, somehow nervous and on edge, and notices her pink dress before her beautiful face.

She is beautiful, but he lets out a tiny sigh, and says, “Sorry, would it be okay if we didn’t take a photo?”

All three of them stop— his friend lets out a breath, and the woman’s perfectly shaped eyebrows raise in question— somehow offended at his request.

There’s another moment of silence before she takes a step back, and Harry notices she’s also holding a cigarette.

“Uh,” she lets out a laugh, like she knows something he doesn’t. “I wasn’t going to ask for a photo. Your trousers…”she looks down at his outfit even though she’s next to him, therefore can’t really see the back of his trousers. “They’re ripped.”

“What?”

And, what?

“Your trousers, below the jacket. Ripped.“

Harry hears his friend laugh, and he also feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment. His whole body feels numb, though he can feel the ringing in his ears.

“Shit—” he murmurs, hand going to his back. He feels himself until his hand touches the ripped area. “God, I’m…really sorry.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, you should be.”

“I don’t normally— I’m not bothered normally, it’s just— it’s not my wedding and I kind of feel bad enough that people have been… you know?” He cannot help his rambling, words rolling off his tongue, though he doesn’t know if he’s making sense or not.

She looks like she’s bored. He guesses.

Though, he notices her checking him out, only a mere second before her eyes find his again.

“I get that. I guess.”

“I’m sorry. Again.”

“All good. I thought you might want to know, yeah?”

He turns to his friend, and notices him on his phone.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He hisses.

He hears her laugh.

He doesn’t even listen to the man next to him list all the excuses why he hasn’t said anything, only hears the laugh she lets out.

He finds her gaze, and she bites her bottom lip.

“I guess,” she says, tone a tad softer than when she first came up to him. “I was one of the few who were looking…there.”

And well.

Harry’s always loved weddings.

#byeeeeeee #idk what this is lmao #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry fluff #harry blurb #harry #styles #harry’s house #love on tour #harry styles x y/n #harry fanfic #wedding!harry

[imyourbratzdoll]

Prequel to ‘wedding crasher’ about Ransom and reader’s past relationship? Particularly about the sex where Ransom used a 🍭 to fuck reader with, like he was bragging about in the fic. 🫣

~ Love you sweetie! ♥️

hey baby! I hope you like it, I'm sorry for it being so short! I love you so much!

prequel to wedding crasher

summary - you get fucked with a lollipop by your boyfriend ransom.

warning - smut, food play, fucking with a lollipop, swearing, being called a whore, implied cheating, oral sex.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Yours and Ransom’s relationship was… Different. He was the trust-fund baby, a man who didn’t know how to do his own work. But you fell in love with him, spending some fantastic years full of love and adventure. The incredible part of your relationship was the sex, which never got dull between the sheets. You remembered the time he had pulled the lollipop from between your lips, pushed you down onto the bed and fucked you with the sweet-tasting treat.

“You like that, Kitten? You like when daddy fucks you with your lolly?” Ransom growls, thrusting the strawberry-flavoured lollipop deeper into your cunt, twirling it and rubbing his thumb against your swollen clit. “You’re such a fucking whore, teasing me with these fucking lollipops all the time, wrapping your plump fucking lips around them like the slut you are.” Your back arches, whining when he slams it into your sweet spot. 

“R–Ran… Oh!” You squeal, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, wondering how the hell this feels so good. You blink, trying to get rid of the fuzziness covering your vision, spying Ransom between your legs. Your mouth drops open as he leans forward and wraps his lips around your puffy clit, groaning and sucking, his hand still moving the lollipop in and out of you. “F–fuck!” 

“God, you taste so fucking good. Like strawberries.” He greedily sucks, lapping at your sopping cunt, watching you fall apart underneath him. Ransom smirks, sucking harder, grinning as your juices flow out of you and cover him and his hand. “Such a fucking whore. Couldn’t contain yourself, huh?” He pulls the lollipop out of your tight hole, directing it to his mouth and popping it inside. “Mmm, best-flavoured lollipop I’ve ever had.” Half-lidded eyes stare down at you, and your head flops back as you try and catch your breath, feeling all tingly between your legs. “Might have to keep doing this so I never run out.” Your head lifts, and you stare at him with wide eyes.

Ransom was your first love, someone you had thought you’d end up marrying. But he never thought the same way about you. He was a man that couldn’t commit to one woman. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#royalsweetteaaask #imyourbratzdollasks #imyourbratzdollwork #ransom drysdale #prequel to wedding crasher #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale au #ransom drysdale one shot #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans blurb #chris evans character #chris evans characters #chris evans drabble #chris evans fan fic #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fandom

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

𝕷𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕳𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕯𝖔𝖓𝖊? 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝑼

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝑬𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒂'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉... 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. 𝑷𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒂 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅, 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒔...

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑬𝑺!! 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒑𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒐𝒖𝒕!

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: [𝑵𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒕! 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓!]

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒆, 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒌, 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒇𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒕, 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒚 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔.

“Forgive me.”

He uttered the word with each weak breath that left his lips and into the chill air of the night. He whispered it with every foot forward into the large hole he dug, whenever his grandfathers rusted shovel gathered the moist dirt and damp grass which would be swiftly casted over his shoulder following the rest of the gathering earth.

“Forgive me.”

His sweaty hands gripped firmly onto the wood handle of the shovel, his hold so tight his knuckles grew white as the moon staring that stared down on him, judging him for his actions, weeping stars as if to ask what he has done, what has he done to do this, to violate such a peaceful ground, to step foot into this yard and prey on the vulnerable, who spent their lives fighting, only now to rest?

“Forgive me.”

Michael repeated, his body cold, and yet perspiration seeped from his skin, running down his sharp jaw as he relentlessly worked at digging up the freshly buried grave before him, his arms sore and aching, but he refused to stop, for he knew it was the least he could handle as a punishment for his actions. The end of the shovel halted,  the sound of wood splintering at its jagged edge making his rapid movements stop, pulling it away to see the engraved edges of a coffin creeping through the dirt, the beautifully hand-crafted work now ruined by the edge of his shovel.

He fell to his knees, trembling, splintered hands clawing and digging at the thin layer of soil hiding the elegant casket holding it’s treasure inside. His hands matched his heart and soul, dirty. Filthy. Ridden in waste and muck. Digging into the creases and crevices of his purity like the soil that stains his fingertips and buries beneath his fingernails. His hands wiped away the mud from the engraved cross, stray gems planted into it, the moon striking it at a point they seemed to glow. It felt almost like it was stinging his eyes.

He quickly got to his feet again, looking around him to find a crowbar he had brought alongside his equipment. Grasping it with slippery hands as firm as he could, he readied to stab it into the golden hinges and lock keeping him from getting what he needed inside.

“Forgive me.”

He closed his eyes as he carried his strength into the swing of plunging the crowbar into the side of the casket, the sound of wood cracking and hinges weakening, trying desperately to keep it shut, crying out for him to stop. Michael was a very strong boy, and yet even now he found his strength failing to help him carry out his deeds. He gave a grunt as he ripped it out of it’s first location, carefully gliding its curved edge lover, aiming at another lock, and taking one final, and hopeful swing.

On nights like these, he would’ve requested his younger brother to follow and aid him, like the many other nights of carrying out their monthly duty. But tonight was different, just like the many nights he had told his brother that when he asked to help him. It was different. It was dangerous. They were dangerous.

They were growing restless. Impatient. Impatient for what? Michael did not know. He merely knew that the risks of taking his brother with him anymore was something he couldn’t bear to imagine. So, much like his heart and soul, he was alone tonight.

He pushed and pulled with his might, teeth gritted hard enough his jaw grew tense and formed and ached. The casket broke open, revealing the inside. He’d never grow use to the sickening feeling that pooled in his guts, seeing the peaceful, resting face of a human being, now fallen into eternal slumber.

Her name was Patience Willows. A poor, young creature, who had fallen into illness she fought so hard against, but ultimately failed. She was a sweet girl, with a loving family and good friends, and betrothed to a man who was just as hopeless for her as she was for him. Her fair skin, and pale hair stood out under the moon, her black gowns she was buried in contrasted to how lively she seemed to be, the bouquet of orchids and roses, wilting away in her clasped hands, tangled in the beads of rosaries and the small cross hanging from the end nestled atop her stomach.

Michael’s hands came up to her face. Cold to the touch. Like ice on his flesh her face unmoving like stone, as if sculptors carved her body, and she was merely made of the finest marble. But she was a girl. A human, and innocent young woman, taken too soon. Even graceful in death as she was living.

And he had to take that away from her. He had to take it away from her family.

“Sweet Patience. Sweet, sister Patience.” He spoke as if he’d expect a reply, as if her big dark eyes would open again to the sound of his voice. “Forgive me for what I must now do with your mortal body…” Michael’s voice was barely above a whisper, his trembling hands left her face, one moved beneath her back, and the other the back of her legs, ripping her body away from its casket and into the night air where he stood tall, holding her like a sleeping maiden. Her head fell back, her arm falling from its gently clasped pose, and limped at her side. Her gowns and hair blew in the chill breeze, the sight was almost haunting.

Michael’s heart ached, he could feel it pound in his chest and wished for him to end this. But he couldn’t. There was no other way. He was beginning to grow desperate, finding every fresh body he possibly could, anything that seemed tempting or tantalizing enough to catch their eye and keep their attention long enough before they grew restless again. But he was beginning to grasp the straws the longer time began to go on. This was his last hope to keep his family and the town of Santa Carla safe.

He trudged through the forests of his family grounds, the settled grass and astray rotting logs pushed away from the path he had spend years creating took him deeper and deeper into the woods. The creeping vines and branches tugging and pried at his holy robes, like teasing fingers and wandering hands, the leaves and grass brushing around him sounding like hisses and whispers. The deep thickets pulled and tore at the gentle fabric of Patience gown, her beautiful resting garments now ruined and made imperfect. It only made Michael’s heart hurt further with sympathy.

The longer he walked, the more the space began to clear, the moon now crept through casting shadows across the trees, and the grass began to shorten. Thorned vines caught on his boots, always overgrowing the path he had created. No matter how many times he’d pull them out, it seemed they merely grew back every night.

Roses sprouted around them light weeds, deep blood reds, and the purest white buds all around, replacing the bushes and trees once hiding him from the moon and the stars shameful stare. The thorned vines and roses wrapped around everything like snakes, choking away like and growing over the ancient stone and ruins Michael was walking to. The closer he got, the more dreadful he felt. It was like the place carried the same evil of the ones who resided in it- yet it could have been the most holiest grounds decades ago, and now it was left to time and darkness to swallow it whole.

The ruins of this Chapel were very large, even if it hadn’t seemed that way from the outside or whatever angle you might have stumbled across it with fate in mind. So much so it was almost like once you walked in, you could never find you way out. Michael was walking toward the back of it, the caved in roofs and broken foundation greeting him routinely night after night. His chest heaved with exhaustion, his arms were throbbing, his legs were burning, the body in his arms felt too heavy to keep going, but he continued. The only thing keeping him going was the thought of his family, waiting for him at home. His mother sleeping soundly by now, and his Grandfather, if not doing the same, was awake busying himself with the strange taxidermy residing in their home and even the Church they ran. And Sam, his dearest brother Sam, he only hoped he wasn’t awake, waiting for him, worried about him. He hoped his brother was sleeping well, not wasting good hours on a brother who had trapped him in such a life he was to live now.

“Lord Jesus,” Michael’s voice trembled, taking each step up the ruined, cracked stares, the moon’s hateful light shining down atop the alter like a spotlight, reveled in display. “Son of God… Have mercy on me, a sinner.” He walked with slow, cautious steps, his footwork calculated, like a waltz, his boots echoing through the rubble stone.

“Wash me from my guilt with Your precious blood and cleanse me of my wrongdoings…” Patience heavy body left his arms, setting her atop the alter, his dirtied hands touching her fair face one final time, the cold feeling of her skin one he had felt many times before, and would forever feel as long as he breathed. “Create in me, a clean heart… Oh God,” He stepped away from her, backing away from the alter and down it’s steps, all the way till he couldn’t see her body put out on display under the moonlight, and even then, he couldn’t handle it, his eyes closing and turning his head away from a sight even imagining made him sick. “Forgive me from all my sins and take not Your Holy Spirit from me by Your mercies…”

The air grew cold, and he could feel the wind on the back of his neck. Wind blowing through the cracks of foundation sounded like whispers, he could hear voices in the trees, and laughs ring out in the halls. Shadows dance on the walls, tempting for him to open his eyes, but they remained shut, not daring to open and witness a sight that would claw through his eyes and carve it’s name on his mind to never forget.

“Forgive… And renew a right spirit within me. Amen.”

And just like that, it went silent. Too silent. The wind halted, and the forest and life within paused. The whispers ceased and it felt as if even Michael’s heart came to a stop for just a moment. His eyes fluttered open, slowly turning his head back up to the steps, only taking a few more just to peek up at the alter.

Patience’s body was gone.

Michael let out a breath he forgot he was even holding, a hand coming up to his head, wiping away the thick layer of sweat forming a residue on his forehead, his fingers tangling in his dark curls. His stomach turned, making him swallow thickly and audibly, shallow breathes leaving past his parted lips. It was done. It was over for those few, spare days. Those few spare, haunting days.

And then he heard it. Quiet at first, so much so he could have merely considered it his mind playing a trick on him and went his way, but Michael knew better. And it grew louder. It was laughter.

Not joyous, not happy or a warm laugh, it was cruel. It was mocking, taunting, and it slowly began to grow louder, and voices joined it, resonating along the walls and ringing through the ruins of the Chapel. Cackles and barking laughter that made Michael’s blood run cold as the sound fed through his ears and froze him from the inside. His hand left his side, reflexively coming to the cross that hung around his neck, nestled against his chest right where his heart was. He clutched the powerful silver in his hand, his fingers running slow circles into the vibrant colored stones embedded into it’s surface as if silently praying, but a prayer wasn’t on Michael’s mind the the moment.

The laughter ensued, louder and louder as though circling him, in the sky, beneath the cobblestone floors, behind him right in his ear or standing before him, yet there was no one to be seen- but he knew very well he wasn’t alone. Not here. And as if his thought were read, the laughter quickly began to silence, very, very slowly. Going silent for only a split second with a few chaste whispers exchanged, and the world slowly began to grow alive yet again in the dead of night.

Michael’s hand stayed firmly grasping his crucifix, feeling his fast heartbeat against his fingers as he took only a few more steps up the stares toward the alter, when he saw a body. The very same body that was lying there just minutes before. He just felt his fear rise the longer he stared at Patience body back on the surface where she was once an offering, now turned away.

Her dress ripped up, legs and arms full of cuts and claw marks. Her blouse was ripped open and her peeled away flesh on display. Her ribs cracked open, like it was a cage, revealing her now hollowed chest where a heart would be, now gone from her bosom with only the bloody remnants of her lungs as the crimson liquid wept from her body and down the pure white marble and stone of the alter, staining the steps, and the petals of roses and orchids stuck to her skin where blood had crept into every curve and crevice along her baren flesh creeped out.

A beautiful woman, a sweet creature, who’s looks reflected the beauty and pureness of her soul… Now mangled and violated in a gruesome slaughter, just for Michael’s eyes to see. He all but stumbled toward her, falling to his knees as he threw his arms over her body, his mind riddled with confusion and utter distraught, blue eyes wandering her face and finding himself unable to understand. Why?

The laughter quickly came back, but it wasn’t all around him now. Instead, it echoed from the seemingly large opening into the ground behind the alter, a cave. Going deep, deep, and down, down into darkness, you couldn’t even see your footing as you would descend into its cavern. The laughter, the voices called out to him, calling his name, and mocking him with snickers and cackles.

“I don’t understand…” He spoke genuinely, eyes dancing between Patience and the cavern below. “I don’t understand.” He asked once more, his voice raising. “What do you want from me?” His guilt, his fear, his confusion all of it was fogging his mind, making him frustrated. It made him angry. It made him enraged.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” He shouted, finding himself unable to handle any more of this cruel madness he was going out through, his voice ringing through the Chapel, echoing back to him and the fluttering sound of bats and disturbed birds followed. The laughter died down as well, but it wasn’t to put his mind at peace. It was to leave him yet again, another night with no answers to his plea.

“I’ve done everything you wanted… I’ve committed atrocities for you. I’ve hurt people, I’ve betrayed my family, my covenants… What more could you want of me?” He cried out, awaiting an answer. And with little hope left, it died out following the silence. He looked to his hands in defeat, now riddled in dirt and innocent blood. “What have I done..”

Silence. Only the quiet comforted him, succumbing him to accepting that he would spend the next month restless, with no answers, with more people getting hurt, with more families coming to his church pleading for prayers and blessings of safety from the beasts of Santa Carla. More missing posters around any wall surface in the town, more questions from his mother. He could barely handle it anymore. How, he was willing to do anything to get this madness to stop.

His heart felt heavy, and as body numb as he got to his feet, wiping the dirt and blood off his Holy robes as best he could, looking toward the disgusting sight of the body splayed out atop the alter, just like the many other past offerings these last few weeks. And like the many weeks before,

He began his walk back home. Dawn approaching, the sun creeping over the view of the boardwalk far, far into the distance...

#🦇🤍White Wedding AU🤍🦇 #fruitbats🦇🍒 #🍒daily dose of cherry🍒 #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #tlb 1987 #the lost boys fanfiction #tlb david #tlb paul #tlb dwayne #tlb marko #tlb michael #michael emerson

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by the wonderful @mochie85 | divider by the lovely @fictive-sl0th <3

Short Update...

I'd say I am now over halfway done writing this wonderful story - and oh, boy let me tell y'all, it's going to be a huge fic... 👀

Baby Fever Crew... @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @simping-for-marvel @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake @anukulee @lady-rose-moon @ainsley30 @lovingchoices14 @lokischambermaid @irishhappiness @mandywholock1980 ... are you ready for this? 💚

#the baby fever wedding #the baby fever au #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

[kittenninja14]

Just some Wobbly Hearts Kai doodles bc i felt like it lolll

i shared this on discord but decided to share this on tumblr as well lol

Depressed/sad/traumatized Kai is now my drawing hyper-fixation, lolll

ANyways yall go check out @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off's  Wobbly Hearts AU!!! It's absolutely A-MEOW-ZINGGG!!!!

besides... there is a lot of Kai angst as well loll. But dw its all worth it... i think.... KNOX!!!! IS THE TRAUMA WORTH IT!??!?!?! U BETTER HAVE NOT MADE ME SUFFER FOR NO REASONN!!!!! KNOXXX--

*ahem*... anyways... i am trusting on the fact taht one of the tags in this fic is #Angst With a Happy Ending

this tag is the only thing that keeps me from breaking down... the small bit of light in this dark tunnel of angstttt LOLLLLL

but like fr... go and check out this AU its really great lol!!

https://kittenninja14.tumblr.com/post/731916269075480576/hey-yall-i-just-found-this-incredible-video-and

#KNOXXX U HAVE TRAUMATIZED MEE SO MUCHHH #TO THE POINT THAT IM NOW DRAWING WH FANART EVER TWO DAYS LOLL #but like dudee... ur such a great writerrrrr #ily and ur works soo much dude <333 #even tho on most weds i hate u loll #tbh im honestly so freaked out for this wed loll #ch13... is an “unlucky chapter” #<- the fact that those are *your* words is scary lolll #but hey... i made it this far... #so how bad can it be? <- wishful thinking right there #llolll #anyways time for real tags ig #lego ninjago wobbly hearts au #wobbly hearts #lego ninjago #ninjago kai #kai angst #my art #magma studio #ninjago #digital art #doodles #ninjago doodle #ninjago fanfiction #fanfic rec #tlnm au #tlnm kai #KN14 rambles #KN14 draws #KittenNinja14

[gossipgoal]

The Wedding

July 26th, 2019,

Paige sat on the edge of her bed, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. She picked up the beaded bracelet Jack had made her in kindergarten, the colors slightly faded but still vibrant. As she twirled it around her wrist, she couldn't help but smile at the memories it held.

"Hey, babe," Jack said, entering the room with a smile. He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Excited for the big day?"

Paige leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I can't believe it's finally happening. We've been talking about this since we were kids."

Jack chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I know. It feels like yesterday we were playing in the sandbox, and now we're getting married."

Paige looked up at him, her eyes shining with happiness. "I'm so grateful to have you in my life, Jack. You've always been there for me, through thick and thin."

Jack smiled, brushing a stray hair from her face. "And I always will be. I love you more than words can say, Paige."

"I love you too, Jack," Paige said, her voice filled with emotion. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

Jack hugged her tightly, whispering in her ear, "Me too, babe. Me too." They sat there in silence, basking in the love they shared, knowing that their future together was brighter than ever.

July 28th 2019,

The air in Paige's childhood home was filled with a mix of excitement and nostalgia. She sat in front of the mirror, her sister Grace expertly styling her hair, while her mother Lily and Jack's mother Ellen looked on with tears in their eyes.

"You look absolutely stunning, Paige," Grace said, admiring her handiwork.

Paige smiled, turning to look at herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair was styled in loose curls, with a delicate flower crown woven through it. She wore a simple white dress that flowed around her like a cloud, and around her neck, she wore a locket that Jack had given her on their first anniversary.

"Thank you, Grace," Paige said, her voice filled with emotion. "I can't believe this day is finally here."

Lily and Ellen came closer, both of them reaching out to hug Paige. "You look just like an angel, sweetheart," Lily said, her voice choked with tears.

Ellen nodded, wiping away a tear. "Jack is going to be speechless when he sees you."

Paige's eyes welled up with tears, feeling overwhelmed by the love and support surrounding her. She knew that today would be one of the most special days of her life, and she was grateful to have her family by her side.

As she finished getting ready, Paige thought about all the special moments she had shared with Jack over the years. From their first kiss under the stars to the time they had carved their initials into the old oak tree in the backyard, each memory was a testament to their love.

With her family by her side, Paige walked out of her childhood home and as left, she realized she about to leave childhood behind and become a wife.

——————————

Meanwhile, Jack stood in his mirror in beachside adjusting his tie , the waves gently lapping at the shore, with Quinn and Luke by his side. Trevor, his best friend, was there too, cracking jokes as usual.

"You know, Jack, tonight's the night," Trevor said with a grin. "Are you ready for the big leagues?"

Jack rolled his eyes, used to Trevor's teasing. "Shut up, man. This is about more than that."

"Of course, man," Trevor said, clapping Jack on the back. "I'm just messing with you. But seriously, don't forget the condom ."

Jack laughed, shaking his head. Trevor always had a joke ready, no matter the occasion. But as he looked out at the ocean, his thoughts turned to Paige.

Paige, his best friend since he was five years old being a goofball trying to get the pretty shy girls attention. She was the love of his life. He couldn't believe they were finally getting married, here on their favorite beach.

He turned to Quinn, a nervous excitement bubbling inside him. "I've got a little surprise for Paige. Will you go give it to her?"

Quinn nodded, a warm smile on his face. "Of course, Jack. I'll take good care of it."

As Quinn walked towards the beach house where Paige was getting ready, Jack turned to Luke, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Can you believe it, Luke? I'm about to marry the most amazing woman in the world."

Luke clapped him on the back. "I can believe it, Jack. You two are perfect for each other."

Meanwhile, Quinn had reached the beach house and knocked on the door. Paige opened it, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Quinn standing there.

"Quinn! What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping aside to let him in.

"I've got something for you," Quinn said, handing her the small box Jack had given him.

Paige opened it, her eyes welling up with tears when she saw what was inside. It was a locket, with a picture of her and Jack as kids on one side, and a picture of them now on the other.

"It's beautiful," Paige whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Paige hugged Quinn tightly. "Thank you, Quinn. You're the best surrogate brother a girl could ask for!

- - -

As Jack stood at the altar, his heart pounded with excitement. He couldn't believe that the moment he had been dreaming of was finally here. He looked out at the ocean, feeling the warm sun on his face, and waited for Paige to walk down the aisle.

And then, she appeared. Paige, his beautiful love, walking towards him, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. Jack felt his own eyes welling up as he took in her beauty.

Paige reached the altar, and Jack couldn't wait any longer. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close.

"You're so beautiful, Paige," Jack whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Paige smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. "And you're so handsome, my love. Thank you for the gift. It's perfect."

Jack wiped away a tear from her cheek, his heart overflowing with love for her. "I'm glad you like it. I wanted it to be special, just like you."

As they stood there, holding each other, they knew that this was the moment they had been waiting for. The moment when they would become husband and wife, soulmates for life.

They turned to face each other, ready to exchange vows. Jack took Paige's hands in his, looking into her eyes with all the love in his heart.

"Paige, from the moment I met you, I knew you were the one. You were my best friend, my partner in crime, my soulmate. I remember all the cute little memories we shared as kids, the adventures we went on, the dreams we had. And now, here we are, standing here, about to become husband and wife. I promise to always cherish you, to always support you, to always love you. You are my everything, Paige, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

Paige's eyes were filled with tears as she spoke her vows. "Jack, you are my rock, my anchor, my everything. I knew from the moment we met that we were meant to be together. I remember all the cute little things we did as kids, the way you always made me laugh, the way you always had my back. I promise to always be there for you, to always support you, to always love you. You are my soulmate, Jack, and I am so happy to be your wife."

With tears streaming down their faces, Jack and Paige exchanged rings, symbolizing their eternal love and commitment to each other. Jack had picked out a beautiful ring for Paige, one that sparkled in the sunlight, just like her.

“I love you Paige” Jack says slipping the beautiful small diamond ring on her delicate finger.

"I love you too, Jack," Paige replied, slipping the ring onto his finger.

And as they kissed, sealing their vows, the sun set behind them, casting a warm glow over the beach

- - - -

The reception was everything Paige had dreamed of - small, niche, and incredibly romantic. The beach was adorned with fairy lights, casting a warm glow over the area. Paige's favorite flowers, peonies, were everywhere, their soft petals adding a touch of elegance to the setting.

As the night went on, Paige and Jack found themselves in each other's arms, dancing to "Lover" by Taylor Swift. Paige is a Swifte, and she had specifically picked this song for their first dance as husband and wife.

Jack held her close, his heart overflowing with love for her. He sang along softly as they danced, the lyrics of the song echoing their love for each other.

Paige rested her head on Jack's shoulder, feeling completely content in his arms. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with love and happiness.

- - - -

After their magical dance under the fairy lights, Paige and Jack were eager to be alone. They made their way to the beach cottage where they would be living, right on the beach. Jack had a surprise planned for Paige, and he couldn't wait to see her reaction.

As they walked hand in hand towards the cottage, Paige couldn't stop smiling. She felt like she was living in a fairy tale, and Jack was her prince charming.

When they arrived, Jack swept Paige off her feet, carrying her over the threshold like a true gentleman. Paige giggled, feeling like a newlywed bride.

As they entered the cottage, Paige gasped in surprise. The home was decorated with candlelight and flowers, creating a romantic ambiance. The table was set with their favorite meal, lobsters, and a bottle of champagne chilled on ice.

"How did you manage all of this?" Paige asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

Jack smiled, his eyes filled with love. "I have my ways," he replied mysteriously.

Paige laughed, knowing that Jack always had a few tricks up his sleeve. She looked around the cottage, taking in every detail. It was perfect.

As they sat down to eat, Paige and Jack reminisced about their past. Paige brought up the last time they had drunk champagne, laughing as she remembered the silly antics they had gotten up to.

"Remember the last time we drank champagne?" Paige asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Jack chuckled, remembering the night clearly. "How could I forget? We were at that party, and you dared me to do a cartwheel on the beach."

Paige giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "And you actually did it! You fell flat on your face, but you got right back up and did it again."

Jack grinned, shaking his head at the memory. "Yeah, that was a wild night. But this," he gestured to the candlelit dinner around them, "this is much better."

Paige’s smiles “This is so perfect”

As Jack and Paige sat by the fireplace, sipping champagne and enjoying each other's company, the air between them was filled with an undeniable electricity. Jack leaned in, his eyes locked on Paige's, and he gently brushed his lips against hers. Paige responded eagerly, deepening the kiss.

Their kiss was slow and passionate, filled with the love and desire they felt for each other. They had waited for this moment for so long, and now that it was here, they wanted to savor every second of it.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless. Jack looked into Paige's eyes, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I love you, Paige," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion.

"I love you too, Jack," Paige replied, her voice filled with love and desire.

Jack stood up, his eyes never leaving Paige's. He held out his hand to her, a silent invitation. Paige took his hand, her heart racing with excitement.

Without a word, Jack lifted Paige up into his arms, carrying her towards their room. Paige wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly.

As they reached the bedroom, Jack gently laid Paige down on the bed, never breaking eye contact with her. He leaned down, capturing her lips in another searing kiss.

Their hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring and rediscovering every curve and every inch of skin. The passion between them grew, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Paige moaned softly against Jack's lips, her body arching towards his. She had never felt more alive, more loved, than she did in this moment.

Jack broke the kiss, his forehead resting against Paige's. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice filled with concern and love.

Paige nodded, her eyes filled with desire. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she replied.

With that, Jack's hands moved to the buttons of Paige's dress, slowly and deliberately undoing each one. Paige's breath caught in her throat as the fabric fell away, leaving her clad only in her lingerie.

Jack's eyes drank in the sight of her, his desire for her written plainly on his face. He leaned down, trailing kisses along her jawline and down her neck, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Paige.

Paige's hands roamed over Jack's body, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt tense with desire. She wanted him, all of him, and she wanted him now.

Jack lifted his head, his eyes locking with Paige's. Without a word, he stood up and began to undress, his eyes never leaving hers. Soon, he was standing before her, completely naked, his desire for her plain to see.

Paige sat up, reaching out to him. Jack took her hand, pulling her to her feet. Their bodies pressed together, the heat between them almost unbearable.

Without a word, Jack lifted Paige up, carrying her to the bed. He laid her down gently, his eyes never leaving hers. He climbed onto the bed, moving to hover over her.

Their lips met in another searing kiss, their bodies moving together in a dance as old as time. They were lost in each other, lost in the moment, lost in the love they felt for each other.

As they made love, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony, they knew that this was where they were meant to be. They were husband and wife, soulmates, and nothing could ever tear them apart.

- - - -

As Paige and Jack lay in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Paige couldn't help but feel a twinge of soreness. She knew it was normal, especially after their passionate encounter, but she didn't want Jack to worry.

Jack sensed her discomfort and immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry, Paige. I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice filled with concern.

Paige smiled, reaching out to touch his cheek. "It's okay, Jack. It's not your fault. I just need to rest for a bit."

Jack's expression softened, and he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her protectively. "I love you, Paige. I never want to hurt you."

Paige kissed him softly. "I know, Jack. And I love you too. You could never hurt me."

Jack smiled, feeling reassured by her words. "I'll go run you a bath," he said, getting up from the bed.

Paige watched him go, feeling grateful for his thoughtfulness. She knew she had married the most amazing man in the world.

While Paige soaked in the warm bath, Jack went to the kitchen to fetch her favorite chocolate. He knew how much she loved it, and he wanted to do something special for her.

When he returned to the bathroom, he found Paige relaxing in the tub, her eyes closed, a serene expression on her face. He smiled, setting the chocolate down on the edge of the tub.

Paige opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "Thank you, Jack. You're so sweet."

Jack knelt down beside the tub, taking a washcloth and gently washing her back. Paige closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his touch.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Paige said softly. "I love making love with you, but I've always been very sensitive."

Jack shook his head, his expression tender. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Paige. I want you to feel good, always."

As he finished washing her back, he leaned down and kissed her softly. Paige sighed, feeling completely loved and cherished.

Their day ended perfectly, with Paige and Jack curled up together in bed, their bodies entwined. Paige felt a sense of contentment wash over her as she realized that she had the best husband in the world, and she had just married the love of her life.

"I love you, Jack," Paige whispered, snuggling closer to him.

"I love you too, Paige," Jack replied, wrap

ping his arms around her. "Forever and always."

#jack hughes #new jersey devils #foreverandalways!au #jack hughes fanfiction #nhl imagine #jack hughes imagine #nhl fic #wedding #wedding fic #taylor swift

[hahafixon]

A Fake Wedding ~ *Jung Wooyoung*

Summary: The bride and groom are nowhere to be found, however you have to do this rehearsal! Who better to fill in than the Maid of Honor and Best Man?

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 1050

Warning: Use of the word Maid of Honor for the reader. I also got a little carried away...

Masterlist

Taglist: @foxwinter​ @imagine-a-life-like-this @mxnsxngie @maeleelee @kpop-will-kill-me

You were thoroughly freaking out. Your best friend wasn’t here at her rehearsal dinner for her wedding. According to a vague text to the bridesmaid group chat, she and her husband-to-be, Yeosang, were in Las Vegas and would hopefully be back for the actual wedding the day after tomorrow. But the officiant wasn’t about to postpone the rehearsal.

It had to happen today, whether the couple was here or not.

“You should fill in.” One of your other friends said. “You’re the maid of honor. And the best man should be the groom.”

“I don’t know.” You mumbled, biting your nail. This was crazy! But so many people were here and you knew at least the bridesmaids were desperate for dinner.

“Just do it already! I’ve already texted the best man and he said he’s in.”

“Oh my God!” You groaned before sighing. “Fine, let’s do this.”

Your friend stopped you from leaving the hotel room. “Oh, no, no, no. You’re not going out like that. This may be a rehearsal, but it has to be a good rehearsal. Let me fix all of this.”

As you let her fret over your appearance, you tried not to completely lose it. Wooyoung was the best man and he was your longtime boyfriend. You didn’t talk to him about wanting to marry him, but this would feel all too real. You weren’t sure you could do this.

“Alright, let’s do this thing!” Your friend cheered as she marched you through the hotel to the ballroom. She had you change into a white outfit, which you knew was her way of trying to get the idea of marriage into Wooyoung’s head. She was determined to score all the bridesmaid dates by the end of the wedding weekend and she was colluding with the bride to get you that ring by spring as they say.

Right before you entered the ballroom, you noticed the other six groomsmen standing around. As soon as San saw you, he gave a low whistle.

“Aren’t you just a vision?” He grinned. “Wooyoung is so lucky.”

“Of course you would say that.” Your friend rolled her eyes before placing her elbow on his shoulder. “Is everyone ready to do this thing?”

“Yep, just waiting on you guys.” He said as everyone paired up. “Wooyoung wants us to play maid of honor and best man.”

“Works for me.” She shot you a wink. “See you out there.”

And so began the rehearsal. You watched the six of them walk down the aisle as you fiddle with the makeshift bouquet in your hand. This was crazy, absolutely mad, but it was too late now. It was your turn down the aisle.

So you walked, your breath catching in your throat. Wooyoung was standing there in a simple white top and pants. And yet he looked ethereal, almost like an angel. And if you didn’t think about it, it almost felt like you actually were getting married to him.

As soon as you reached him, he took your hand. He leaned in and whispered, “You look extraordinary today.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You shot back with a teasing wink.

The officiant gave a vague description of how the ceremony was going to go and to make certain the walk down the aisle was correct. You made sure to memorize everything so you could tell the bride when she got back from her little impromptu vacation. However, you also noticed that Wooyoung was hardly paying attention. So you made sure to also have tips to pass on to Yeosnag when he came back as well.

When the rehearsal was finally over and you thanked the officiant, you slumped into one of the chairs. Your bridesmaid friend smiled as she sidled up next to you, San by her side.

“So, how did it go?”

“What do you mean?”

She nudged you playfully. “Did he pop the question?”

Your jaw dropped. “That’s so inappropriate, you know! This is someone else’s wedding! I am not getting engaged during our friend’s wedding weekend! And if Wooyoung knew me at all, he wouldn’t even dream of trying it!”

San held up his hands. “Alright, alright, relax! It was just a joke. But you have to admit, it did feel nice to feel like a bride, even for a brief moment, right?”

Shrugging, you looked away. “Even if it did, it’s not about me. Look, thanks for trying, but this isn’t the weekend to convince him to think about marriage, alright?”

Your friend wrapped her arm around your shoulder and squeezed. “Alright, we’ll stop meddling. But maybe, you know, you could still talk about it. Who knows. He might surprise you.”

Taking San’s hand, the two of them left for dinner. You stayed there for a little while longer, pondering over her words. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear Wooyoung take the seat that was previously occupied by your friend. You jolted a little in your seat when he knocked his shoulder with yours.

“I just wanted to let you know that no one in this wedding party has been discreet about trying to get me to ask you to marry you.” He explained softly, not looking you in the eye.

“Is that so?”

He nodded. “It all started when Hongjoong and Seonghwa got completely hammered after the bachelor party and tried to offer me big brother advice. And they haven’t stopped.”

“Ah.”

“Hey.” He took your hands gently and finally looked you in the eyes. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to propose, it’s just, I know a lot of things that you can’t tell anyone. San is going to propose a month after this wedding. Hongjoong is proposing in the spring and Mingi is proposing in the fall of next year. I just wanted our moment to be special, you know? Away from all of theirs.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t know. But you felt touched by the thought he put into it. Leaning against his shoulder, you closed your eyes as he kissed the top of your head.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to think we’re engaged until we make it public. Are you okay with that?”

He nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

#Ateez #Ateez Fanfiction #Ateez Oneshot #KPop #KPop Fanfiction #KPop Oneshot #Atiny #Jung Wooyoung #Jung Wooyoung X Reader #Jung Wooyoung Fanfiction #Jung Wooyoung Oneshot #Jung Wooyoung Fluff #Wooyoung #Wooyoung X Reader #Wooyoung Fanfiction #Wooyoung Oneshot #Wooyoung Fluff #Wedding #Wedding AU #Oneshot #Fluff

[wardenparker]

The Viper’s Bride - ch 5

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst​

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.  

Rating: E for Explicit  Word Count: 15.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid* A whole lot of nudity, reflections on poor sex education, internalized shame, Mom-frontation, absurd amounts of tension, we’re not even sorry, dialing up the yearning, anxiety, mentions of parental abuse, a whole heaping dose of inadequate communication. Summary: The day of King Joffrey and Lady Margaery’s wedding holds surprises for everyone. Notes: Y’all the WAY this chapter makes me cry. There is so much going on and the day is so intense to begin with. Keri really and truly out does herself with every step forward this quartet takes.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

The sun rise does not wake you, nor the sound of servants moving in and out of the room. The warmth and security of having Raeden's arm heavy on your waist has kept you deep in a blissful sleep more revitalizing than you have had in a very long time. Food has been laid and your trunks delivered from the Red Keep while you slept with your soulmate like a rock at your back, and it is not until the scent of freshly lit incense breaks through your dreams that you even have a sense of the world outside of your beautiful dreams.

The warm sun pours through the curtains that Leyth opens, and she hums to herself softly as she moves around the room. Prince Oberyn had given her specific instructions on waking the new princess and her lover gently and hanging the dress he had produced from his trunk, even making sure that the bath room would be emptied for you to have privacy. Though why you need privacy in a whorehouse makes no sense to her. It seems rather...precious. But she does not know your story.

The moment you stir, Raeden opens his eyes. He has spent the last hour awake, holding you close as you continued to dream. As a soldier, he is often up before the sun, training. This morning he had woken due to habit. For a split second believing that yesterday had been a dream until you had sighed softly and the weight of your body pressed against him registered. There were still noises from the chambers where the prince and his soulmate slept, this time it was softer, more intimate. Making him wonder at the paradoxical nature of the prince and if he had not been toying with you when he had said he was interested in a lowly soldier like him. A man who is reliant on his good graces for taking breath today. And why Ellaria’s eyes haunted him enough to dream of her last night.

Leyth catches the movement, smiling at the broad man in the bed and whispering when she sees you haven’t opened your eyes yet. “Meal is laid and so is her dress. When you are ready, Prince Oberyn has ordered the bathing room be emptied so she can have privacy.” That is all she came here to say, so she smiles once more at the handsome man and leaves, shutting the door gently behind her.

He’s grateful that the prince seems to accept your modesty, even if he might not share those same proclivities. His hand slides from his hold on you and he strokes your side softly. “Morning has come.” He murmurs softly, kissing your shoulder. “It is near a dream to wake up with you in my arms.”

“I thought I was dreaming still.” Rough with sleep, your voice is still soft as you open your eyes and turn to burrow into his side. The mix of dreams you had are still fresh in your mind’s eye, sleep barely receding enough to allow you to be present in this moment. “Did you sleep well, my love?”

“Better than ever.” He promises, smiling at your sleepy face. If he had stayed up late thinking on the sounds that had come from next door, it was nothing you needed to concern yourself with.

“Morning light becomes you.” Reaching up to kiss him in the sunlight that streams in through the windows, your fingers dance through the traces of stubble on his jaw and even the top of his head and you giggle to yourself. “Did I hear something about a bath?” He is meticulous about his appearance, and you know that on a day as important as the king’s wedding, you will both want to look your best.

“Your husband has arranged a private bath for you.” Raeden nods and leans in to steal a kiss. He wishes he could give you those things, give you everything you need, but he holds no power.

The sentence stings for a very different reason than it had yesterday, after spending a night dreaming about both men alternately. The guilt you carry for finding yourself attracted to the man you have already married is difficult to reconcile, and you wonder how angry Raeden would feel if he knew. Or worse, betrayed. “That…is kind of him.” You murmur finally, tucking in closer to Raeden’s side.

“It is.” Readen won’t deny that, and his eyes widen when he sees the gown that had been brought in for you. “Like the dress is…shockingly brief.”

“What do you…” Sitting up in bed, you find yourself face to face with a beautiful golden gown embroidered with elaborate flowers across the bodice and vines that extend down the skirt. The light material is silky and inviting, but the brief part of it is the sleeves that look as though they will simply dangle off your shoulders, and the deep dip in the front that would surely do everything in its power to highlight your breasts for any who might look. “It’s…exceptionally beautiful,” you admit, finding it to be stunning but a little shocking. You would never see the ladies of the Vale wearing anything so revealing. “It must be the fashion…in Dorne.”

“It is a most temperate climate from what I know of it.” He murmurs, wondering how jealous he will be with eyes on your skin. “Perhaps comfort is afforded over modesty?”

"Perhaps it will be more modest on the body than it seems to the eye." It is more intimidating than you would like to admit, to come to these changes all at once, but it is what you chose. A new gown is hardly a terrible price to pay for Raeden's safety. "Either way, it is what I will wear to the king's wedding. Dornish colors and Dornish fashion."

“You will be fit to cling to the Prince’s arm.” His own robes will be splendid as well, he will make sure to take great pains to shine his boots and his sword. “It will be a grand introduction to the new princess.”

"It will be a great shock to some." You can think of a half dozen names off the top of your head. "I only hope that Lady Margaery does not view it as an attempt to steal sunshine from her day. The last thing I wish is to offend a queen."

“I doubt she will view it as such a thing.” He assures you, turning and kissing your shoulder. “It is not like the prince announced your wedding and invited the kingdom.”

“Nor would I have wanted him to.” Turning your head, you plant two soft kisses on Raeden’s lips and smile. The moans and calls to gods and the prince himself are nearly at a crescendo – a sound with which you are now well acquainted. And that, you tell yourself, is the only reason you must have dreamt of him last night. “Let us break our fast and bathe, my love. Today is sure to be long and tiresome.”

Breakfast was far more elaborate than even you were used to. The brothel apparently sparing no expense to make sure that the prince was kept happy. Dates and fruits surround fresh bread and some eggs that were still steaming in their shells. All washed down with a mulled wine that was very pleasing to the palette. It was a meal unlike anything he had experienced before beyond last night.

The bathing room is at the other end of the not inconsiderably sized building, according to the man who escorted your trunks into your chamber last night. He was personable and handsome, like almost everyone else who seemed to do very well working in Baelish’s brothel. The arrival of your trunks with most of your belongings intact meant that you can wrap up in your dressing robe to walk to your bath this morning, a luxury you had not expected. In fact, most moments spent here seemed to be luxurious ones with the exception of the luxury of quiet.

Stepping into the room, Raeden is impressed with the size of the room. The tub is sunk into the middle of the floor, water already pouring into the large cavity from a pipe that comes from the kitchen – he can only assume – as steam swirls up. That is a luxury in itself, not using someone else’s water in a bath this size. The smell of incense and spices fills the air and makes him hum in approval.

“I admit, I had no idea a brothel would be a beautiful place.” Only ever having heard of them as places a lady should never go, you had assumed they would be as dank and unappealing as the men they attracted. As much as you dislike Lord Baelish, his establishment seems to be far above what you had imagined for this house of ill repute.

“I feel as if Baelish like to accommodate the lords that come to King’s Landing.” Raeden pulls off his undershirt and smirks when he sees the shaving tools set off to the side.

“So much the better for us, then.” Your robe joins his clothing on the tiled floor beside the bath and you slip into the steaming water, sighing at the way it relaxes you instantly. There are few things better in the world than a hot bath.

“It is good?” The washing cloths are to the side and Raeden lets you enjoy the warm water as he gathers the perfumed soaps and the cloths.

"It would be better with company." Waking with him has somehow only made you greedy for more time with him, and you admit that you are trying to wipe other thoughts from your mind. Seeing the gown that was left for you this morning now makes you wonder what the prince will be wearing to today's nuptials.

“Company you shall have.” The doors to the bathing room open and Oberyn and Ellaria stroll in, half naked and without a single care. The prince grins at you. “How was your wedding night, my dear?”

“My lord!” The shock of seeing them walk in so brazen and unashamedly has you attempting – and failing – to cover yourself with only your hands and the shrinking away of your body into the far corner of the bath as if the prince might have developed poor eyesight overnight. “You are—I—that is—what an unexpected visit.”

Oberyn tilts his head in confusion at your exclamation. “I had arranged for a private bath for us before the wedding.” He reminds you. “There is nothing that I have not seen before on either of you.” He hums, reaching over and helping Ellaria out of the thin, gossamer gown that concealed nothing.

“Forgive me. It must have…slipped my mind.” It is rude to stare, you know that it is, and yet the pair of them are so beautiful that it is difficult to tear your eyes away. And that certainly is not helping you remember whatever he might have said to you the night before about bathing together.

“Don’t tease, lover.” Ellaria pouts and turns to press her breasts against his chest. “She is not yet used to the way that you view nudity.” She turns towards you and Raeden with a sultry smile.

Caught in your own mix of utter confusion, the impulse to flee is incredibly strong and has you turning away from them to hide your face and body all at once. Even from Raeden. A naked body is a thing of shame, or so you were taught. Always to be covered and hidden away. Even sharing it with a lover or husband is a brazen act of licentiousness. It is unladylike. “Forgive me,” you manage to eek out again, not knowing what to do in this situation at all.

“Do not fret.” Oberyn has no shame as he drops his breeches, revealing every inch of his bare cock as it swings between his thighs. Flaccid, yet still impressive, he turns towards his new guard who is still in his own breeches. “Soon we will be comfortable with one another.”

“Is this…the accepted way…in Dorne?” If it is then you will have to make very large adjustments very quickly, and a knot of dread forms in the pit of your stomach.

“You will not be walking around Dorne for all to see.” He steps into the bath and turns around so he can help his lover into it, holding out his hand. “None but the servants and the people in this room will see you unless you take other lovers.” That might sting; if you were to reject being in his bed and take other men and women into yours.

“I cannot see that being a possibility.” Although Raeden is at your side, holding firmly onto your hand to be an anchor of comfort, the moment is nerve wracking only for you. The prince and Ellaria clearly are more interested than concerned, and Raeden’s years as a soldier have made him far less concerned with nudity in general. He may not examine the pair of lovers who have no intention of leaving, but he certainly is not offended by them. You squeeze his hand gently, hating to be the naive, sheltered child out of the four of you. At five-and-twenty, you have not been a child for many years.

“Do you not believe that love should be shared?” Oberyn asks curiously. “Pleasure is one of life’s greatest gifts, beyond children. Especially if the pleasure is creating them.” He chuckles, kissing his lover’s shoulder and glance at you from it. “Why limit yourself?”

“Your Grace, I was raised by a woman who deemed me a shameful harlot for sharing myself with the man that the gods themselves chose for me. And my father is a man who I do not believe ever touched her more than out of necessity or for her own manipulative ends.” Still clutching your own self, you swallow the moment of fear and turn halfway around in the bath. Enough to be able to see his face, at least. “Pleasure was not precisely a topic of conversation in my household. Even my brothers’ wives considered it unladylike to discuss.”

“Then allow yourself to ask any questions you may have.” He hums, picking up one of the cloths and dipping it into the water so he can slide it over Ellaria’s tits.

“It is not so much that I have questions.” Although you do. Desperately burning ones that you have felt too ashamed even to ask of Raeden. “But more that I wonder at how easily you can share yourself.” Realizing that that might not have sounded how you intend, you end up fostering immediately. “I—I mean it as an admiration,” you clarify, stumbling to explain. “You are very comfortable and free with yourselves. Both of you.”

Oberyn looks at you thoughtfully, sliding his hands up to cup Ellaria’s tits. “It does not take away from my appreciation of these tits to admire yours. Or her love of my cock when she is perched on another.” He explains. “We have our pleasures, separate at times, but most often together. And we find that it makes our own passions for each other that much sweeter.”

“Perhaps I am not enough of the world to understand.” An anxious glance to Raeden beside you does nothing to calm the riot in your mind, and you shake your head, ready to give up on it altogether. Attraction and love seem inexorably linked to you. Or they did, before you met the prince and his paramour.

“You will not be forced to join in on anything you do not wish to.” He squeezes his lover’s tits once more before he looks to Raeden. “Although I am curious as to your views on sex. Is your soulmate your only lover or have you had more?”

“There is not the judgement for bastards that there is for ladies, your Grace.” Though Raeden might not usually hide himself from the view of others, it is a different matter entirely when the others present are enticing to him, and try as he might there is no informing his cock that this is an inappropriate time to stand at attention. “There were others before her, but none since.”

“Good.” Oberyn approves of the idea that you had at least a moderately skilled lover. It is good that you might not be dealing with a man who does not satisfy you. “And do you make sure your soulmate is satisfied?”

“You would have to ask her for the most accurate answer.” It may be the most unconventional line of questioning he’s ever had from a noble, but somehow the part of him that is affronted that the prince would even ask is almost also glad of it? He gets the impression that if he were not satisfying you, Prince Oberyn would be disapproving. “But I believe I can rightfully boast that I am never satisfied until she is.”

“Very good.” Oberyn hums, nodding in agreement of his answer. “That is always the best when your lover is limp with pleasure and unable to cry out your name anymore.” He keeps his hands moving over Ellaria’s skin as he converses.

“With all respect to your meaning…crying out is not a luxury all of us have had.” Certainly before last night, you never had been safe enough with Raeden to do any such thing. He would have been punished severely for even touching you, and even in the beauty of spending last night with him, you never would have been as vocal as the men and women in the next room. You would not have known how. “That is…i—it is not the only way to show pleasure.”

“Even the softest moan of a name is a cry when a cock is filling you or a tongue fluttering against your clit.” Oberyn counters with a small smirk. “Your small whimpers are just as erotic, maybe more so, than the most skilled whore faking pleasure.”

“Your paramour agrees,” Ellaria smiles in her amused way, the one where mischief dances behind her eyes. “Or else he is very much enjoying something that he sees.”

“Yes, he does seem to be stimulated by the atmosphere.” Oberyn is also interested in the exceptional collection of bodies that are in the bathing room. His own reaction hidden by Ellaria’s body as he caresses and washes it. “I must wonder on what is causing it.”

Raeden’s complexion grays, embarrassed to have a condition he cannot control pointed out for all to witness. “It is only natural,” he insists, though the defense is quiet and he turns his back to the pair to retrieve the largest washing cloth he can find – as if that would be any help in hiding his condition.

“It is, there is no shame in it.” Oberyn insists as he sidesteps his paramour to reveal his own erection. “In fact, if you need to take care of it, we do not care if you fuck in the bath.”

The speed at which you avert your eyes is telling, but what it is that you’ve just revealed about yourself, you do not know. Instead it is Raeden who flusters and busies himself with becoming a human shield for you so that you can wash yourself. “She is innocent of such things.” He tells the prince with an edge of soft protection in his voice. As though your innocence is something very precious to him. “Such a thing would never have even crossed her mind.”

The hand that comes up to lay against his chest is soft, the only thing keeping him from sighing in disappointment. He had hoped that after the night, there would have been some thought on your part to the doors opened to you. “As you say.” He turns around so that you don’t have to see him and starts to wash himself.

"I—" Even hidden from view, your voice is just loud enough to be heard. Unsure, faltering more than slightly, you look up at Raeden and around his shoulder to find Ellaria still carefully watching. "It might..." Swallowing the fear that it might upset your soulmate, you have to admit that there are few things that you like more than being spoken for. Your mother would do it constantly – speak on your behalf – and to be out from under her thumb now should have meant you were free from it in private. "If it had not ever occurred to me before – to make love in full view of others – it certainly would have after hearing it." The fact that you also dreamt of it? That is more telling than anything.

Raeden’s eyes widen when he hears your words, a frown furrowing his brow and he reaches out to hold your shoulders. “My love, do not feel pressured to do anything.” He urges you softly.

"I feel no pressure," you promise him, laying your hand over his and squeezing it gently. As reassuring a gesture as such a small thing can be. "It is not something I may ever wish to engage in. But..." It takes more than a moment to gather your thoughts, and you end up sighing. "I want to understand," you say finally. "That is all."

"We are all a part of each other's lives now." Ellaria agrees, looking past Oberyn to offer you a smile. "Understanding is a noble goal."

For his part, Oberyn is impatient and thinks that it might be best to just send you away. But the yearning in your voice mixed with Ellaria’s immediate offer of comfort makes him hesitate. He turns around and stares at you. “Then we will seek to guide you to the answers.”

"I..." Raeden is looking at you as if you have grown a second head, but you look between the three other people in this room – in this one bath – and swallow fear once more. "I am sorry if having to guide me is a disappointment. But I doubt there is a book I could read on the subject."

“If there were such a book, my lover would possess it.” Ellaria assures you, making Oberyn chuckle.

“Forgive me, Princess.” He murmurs after a moment. “I am getting ahead of myself. I forget that you northerners are not raised with the freedoms that I have been afforded.”

"I may never be used to being called princess, and that is the simple end of things." His laugh is relieving, and you end up smiling in your own right. "I do not wish for any of us to be strangers. And if we are to be friends, then understanding is most necessary."

The problem is that he has already realized he does not just want to be your friend, he wants to fuck you. Oberyn wants to bring both you and your paramour into his bed to see how the dynamic would work. “Are you nervous for your entrance to the wedding?”

"Yes." That is not worth lying about, or being too proud to admit, since he will be right beside you and see your fear for himself. "Social grace has never been my greatest skill."

“If you prefer, you can just stay silent.” He hums, smirking slightly since that seems to be a skill you have not mastered despite your mother’s best efforts. “It will be shocking enough to have the Prince of Dorne escorting his wife and his paramour to a wedding.”

"I am afraid silence is not my forte, either." You shake your head, almost laughing at yourself. "Too curious for my own good, my eldest brother likes to say. And besides which, the future queen has...been very friendly to me. I fear keeping silent on such a day would offend her greatly."

“Then you will say what you say and damn whoever takes offense.” He shrugs one shoulder casually and leans back to wet his hair to wash. “You are a princess. Only two inside the seven kingdoms can truly tell you to be quiet.” He doesn’t add that it all depends on the day to determine if he would listen.

"I will endeavor to remember that." Raeden looks doubtful, though, and you urge him down with a hand on his shoulder so that you can kiss him. "It will do none of us any good to be rude, today, my love. I may not say much of anything of interest or importance, but you and the prince will both be there to make sure I do not stumble." Looking past him, you offer your unexpected ally a smile as well. "And Ellaria will be my guide for confidence. I am sure of that."

“You will be perfect.” She muses with a smile of her own. “Your dress will match my own and look splendid against Oberyn’s robes.”

You nod, glad to have Ellaria to bolster you, and set back to washing yourself as modestly and earnestly as possible. "It will be a day not soon to be forgotten."

******

“Do not fret and worry with it too much.” Ellaria murmurs to you as the carriage pulls up. “The more you do, the better chance you have at showing off your unmentionables.” You are very modest and have played with the low hem of the dress several times, drawing Oberyn’s and her own eyes to your breasts.

"I don't think I have ever worn anything as elegant. Or as revealing." You bite your lip when you look back up at her, holding back a self-conscious expression of concern. The gown itself is beautiful and not terribly immodest. While it certainly does show off your figure from the waist up, the thin skirts still envelope your legs and create a sort of flowing golden sea around them that would make even the clumsiest wearer appear elegant. The jewelry that was laid on your neck and hung from your ears gleams in the late morning sun, making you feel simultaneously extravagant and like a doll that has been dressed up by its owner. And perhaps you are exactly that, but the prince's gifts should be on full display today of all days. "I will try not to fuss too much."

"Your Raeden cannot keep his eyes off of you." She confides with a proud smirk, as if that had been her plan all along rather than making sure that everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew that you are Oberyn Martell's bride. "We will have to remind him not to draw his impressive sword on those that stare at you wantonly." He is not inside the carriage for the ride from Flea Bottom, but Oberyn has decided that he will be the guard brought for the wedding, making sure that your own soulmate is nearby.

“He has more propriety than anyone I have ever met. You need not fear his ability to hold his tongue.” What he might say or do afterward – in private – is another matter entirely. It would not be the first time that Raeden ravaged you after a particularly long day of standing by while you were wearing something he liked very much. Unfortunately, the blue gown that he always claimed was his favorite to see you in had been torn apart by your mother’s rage. Not everything in your trunks had been intact.

"Oh, I am not afraid of what he might say." Ellaria corrects with a smile as she glances over at her own lover. "It is unusual to have a man who does hold his tongue, for our prince has never learned that particular trait."

"I have no need to hold my tongue." Oberyn counters, his dark eyes fixed on you as he answers. "Whatever my position does not afford me, my spear does."

It is not your fault for taking his double meaning. Not truly. Not when he displayed himself to you so fully in the bath this morning and let his fingers graze your neck so enticingly while giving you the necklace you are wearing as a gift not half an hour ago. It is not reprehensible to be flustered slightly by the direct attention of such a worldly man. Not even when that man is your husband of less than one day.

He notices you fidget; he notices everything about you. The knowing light in Ellaria's eyes telling him that she is aware of his attentions. and it does not matter to her. She approves of his interest in his wife, as fruitless as it may prove to be. The fact that you have not fallen at his feet providing him with a curiosity that he has not had for a long time.

“We should not be late.” It would be most impolite, if nothing else, and you do not know how long you can stand between the two of them with their attention on you. Raeden’s gaze is comfortable and warming – when the prince and Ellaria look at you with such interest it makes you feel as if you might combust fully on the spot. “That would not do well for our first appearance as a party.”

Her hand is careful not to ruin the maid's work with your hair as her hands cup your cheeks. The carriage is at a stop and any moment the door will be opened. Your lips are plush and painted with the loveliest shade of lip color, making Ellaria lean in and kiss you.

The moment lingers, just the sweet pressure of her mouth on yours as your mind races to catch up with what is happening and realize that it is as sweet and gentle a kiss as any you have had before. By the time you remember yourself and reluctantly sit back in the carriage, you have more questions about what has just happened than anything else. "I—" Your eyes flicker between Ellaria and the prince, wondering if the amusement you see in their eyes is imagined or not. "I am not...entirely sure...what I did to earn such a response."

"Beautiful things deserve to be appreciated." Ellaria hums, smirking slightly as she pulls back and scooches towards the carriage door just as she raps on it to signify it is permissible to open it. "And you might be the loveliest of all Oberyn's possessions."

The driver helps Ellaria out of the carriage while you fluster measurably, avoiding the prince's eyes and knowing smirk by following directly after his paramour. The line of carriages extends in either direction as guests disembark, and empty carriages pull away to wait for their owners to be done with the day's festivities. Raeden stands resplendent in his regalia that marks him a guardian of House Martell and offers you a small but proud smile. The prince steps out behind you, making your party of four complete, and you raise your chin slightly to match Ellaria's easy confidence. It may be unconventional to look to her as an example, but your mind is still reeling from the feeling of her lips against yours and you could use the guidance.

Oberyn saunters, he doesn’t walk up to the pair of gorgeous women. Both of them belonging to him. His sun, his world and his…wife. “Ladies.” He hums. "Are we ready to shock the Seven Kingdoms and make every man here fume in jealousy?"

"A few of the ladies as well, I hope." Ellaria adds, a satisfied smile gracing her beautiful mouth as both of you take Oberyn's arms. Raeden is merely one step behind, ready and at attention.

"With our guard here, of course the women will be jealous." Oberyn knows the weight of his own appeal and wears it easily as your fingers twitch against the crook of his elbow. His own robes are exquisite and in total coordination with yours and Ellaria's gowns and Ser Raeden's uniform.

You had told your soulmate before leaving Flea Bottom that you thought he looked very handsome in his uniform, and the light in his eyes had shone a little bit brighter at your praise. Now he looks proud as a peacock as he walks behind you, and you glance back to offer him a broad grin. "It will certainly be a very interesting day."

There is an easy air of confidence as Oberyn starts his walk towards the large sept. His eyes watchful for the bitter harpy that is your mother even though no one would think that he has a care in the world.

There are eyes on you in such a way that you have never experienced before. People whispering, wondering who you are and why you are on the prince's arm. Everyone knows he brought a lover to King's Landing, but two? Two seems outrageous even for Oberyn Martell. Guided inside, the pews and aisles of the sept are separated by an ocean of guests extending greetings to each other and inspecting each other's wardrobes for the grand event. The voice of Olenna Tyrell seems to be boisterous and cheery in the center of things, and in this moment she is nodding along with the words of a woman whose voice you would recognize across whole continents. Olenna Tyrell is being talked at, at length, by your own mother.

He is aware the moment your mother catches sight of you. Her voice dies mid word, and the sharp inhale of disapproval nearly echoes in the inner chamber of the sept despite the din of conversation behind her. Never one to shy away from a fight, Oberyn guides you towards the two women with a charming and mischievous smile on his face. "Lady Tyrell." He nods his head towards the elder woman while subtly snubbing your mother. "It seems as if the gardens around the seven kingdoms have been emptied of their blooms to provide such lavish arrangements." He compliments. "No doubt your keen eye had a hand in it."

"You've been a flatterer since you were eighteen years old." Olenna Tyrell observes in amusement, the suppressed smile on her face peaked up at the edges in delight. "I'll bow my head, Prince Oberyn, to save my knees from the curtsy. But who are your exquisite guests? Rumours have swirled over who you might bring today."

“On my right, my lovely paramour, Ellaria Sand.” He introduces her to the head of the Tyrell household as if she were a lady in her own right. He says your name as he turns towards you with equal pride. “My own bride, newly gotten.” He looks at you as if you are a precious gemstone, irreplaceable to him.

"Bride?" The Tyrell matriarch's expression morphs into one of wolfish amusement. "My darling I did not even recognize you. Marriage has given you an absolutely radiant glow." She knew of your betrothal, of course, having been the one to encourage her granddaughter to befriend you as a suitable ally. But a swift marriage between a reluctant pair almost always yields an interesting story. "My most heartfelt congratulations."

“Many thanks.” His head finally turns towards your mother. “The Princess Martell, lady.” He keeps his voice steady but there is a clear warning. “Respects are to be extended.”

The fire in your mother's eyes is unmistakable. Of the hundreds of times you have seen it, though, nothing could compare to this. Not only did you and Raeden escape the grasp of her punishments, but you had run so far that you had become untouchable in the process. Drawn up to your full height on the prince's arm, you actually feel every bit as proud as you look in this moment. As proud as you look – your mother's anger and frustration may be more so.

The moment for courtesy passes silently, your mother’s eyes fixed on you and Oberyn feels the tiniest pressure of Ellaria’s hand on the crook of his elbow. A silent plea for him to not cause a scene that will attract the attention of every lord already in the Sept. The charming smile turns pointed, his eyes hardening as he watches her stubbornly refuse to extend his wife the respect her station now demands. It is an insult to you, but also to Dorne. The delicate necklace around your neck is not just a gorgeous gift, it serves a purpose. It is a smaller, lighter copy of the heavy gold chain around his own neck. The signet of House Martell crafted into the costly metal and indicating your place among royalty. His voice drops, tone cold enough to freeze any man currently sitting his ass on the giant ice block that is the Northern Wall. “You will bend your knee or I will bend it for you.” He threatens, eyes glittering with promise.

Your eyes widen, looking to the man beside you with immediate surprise. Demanding not just a modicum of manners from your mother but a complete bending of the knee is not at all what you expected from him, and you must wonder if this is not some play for power or else a rather public admonishment to your mother. There is no need to play for power for a prince, of course, but your hand unconsciously tightens on his arm anyway, as if you are trying to warn him of her rage without words.

Her smile turns so brittle it would crack underneath the smallest breeze and he can hear the fury in her words, sweet as she might have intended them, the venom pulses underneath. “My lord, this my daughter.” Her tittering laugh is meant to disarm him, but it does nothing.

“Your Grace.” He corrects, one eyebrow arching as he stares her down. “And your daughter is now my princess, the vows recorded in the Citadel.”

Olenna Tyrell watches with fascination, aware that Oberyn had waved away her own need to bend her knee, making a special point to not accept any other form of niceties. It is intriguing and she wonders what Margery had managed to learn during your walk through the gardens. You and your prince will be allies in coming days.

Your mother – the woman who has threatened your life more than any other creature in the world – is nervously realizing that she is being watched as eyes begin to turn toward your small group on the sept floor. Olenna Tyrell looks positively tickled but your own mother could spit fire until a voice from a few yards away breaks through the crowd.

“My darling girl!” Your father turns from his conversation with Lord Tyrion and in no less than a moment is at your side to embrace you. “We did not know where you’d gone,” he murmurs in your ear, the relief in his voice obvious. “Your mother said you ran away to spite us but I knew you would never do that.”

“No, Papa.” With your voice barely above a whisper, you hug your father back with one arm and wonder just how many armies of lies your mother has told him throughout the years. More than you can fathom, probably. “I will explain it all to you later, but the prince and I said our vows yesterday at the Citadel.”

“Truly?” He looks so proud that it almost breaks your heart, and there is a small rippling gasp from the crowd as your own Lord Father bends the knee without any prompting whatsoever. “Then you are truly now my princess,” he tells you with a watery smile. “Although you have long been that in my heart.”

Oberyn watches the fury etched on your mother’s face contort as she realizes that she has no choice to follow suit or call attention to her rebellion. When your mother finally dips down, it’s the barest inch as she nearly growls. Your father, jovial imbecile that he is, doesn’t even notice. His focus is on his daughter and the prince cannot help but wonder how such a pairing exists together without bloodshed. They seem to be such polar opposites. “Forgive the haste.” Oberyn takes your hand and kisses it sensuously. “After our meeting, there was no need to wait until we returned to Dorne to make this gorgeous creature my princess.”

“It is a relief to see such happiness in the match,” your father is beaming, nearly on the verge of joyful tears, and he looks past you only for the briefest moment to nod to Raeden behind you. “Ser Stone will serve your family well, your Grace. As he has served ours. We wish you every happiness and many children in the years to come.”

Your lover’s safety is assured. Oberyn realizes your mother had never taken her accusations to the lord, making it an ill-timed bluff on her part. He nods, his dark eyes fixed on your mother. “The safety of those under my protection is something that I take very seriously.” He replies, sending her a clear warning.

Your mother swallows heavily, looking between you and your new husband as she realizes she has made a calculated error. The tales of the prince’s promiscuity and prowess as a warrior had led her to believe that he would treat you as breeding stock. Like the way a northern man would – disregarding your opinions and teaching you submissions. The Prince of Dorne, against everything she had hoped before meeting him yesterday – seems actually to like you.

“Oberyn has been most attentive and kind.” It is the first time you have ever called him by his given name and it warms through you expectedly.

“It is easy when your kindness and grace is a trait that is a credit to your house.” Obviously not from your mother but the compliment from the prince makes your father beam with pride. “She will be most welcomed in Dorne.”

Your father finds his feet again and embraces you, and for a moment it seems as though everyone present has entirely forgotten your mother, who must push to her feet in her own. Lady Olenna Tyrell and Lord Tyrion are nearby observing everything, and your father regards you fondly, with a raised eyebrow. “Finding married life not so disagreeable now, your Grace?”

The fact that your father believes that you are happily wed makes Oberyn believe that while he might love you as a daughter, he does not know you. Ellaria stands off to the side and he turns to exchange a meaningfully amused look since he is well aware of his own daughters’ desires, even the younger ones.

“I could hardly think of anything as comforting as the care I have received since marrying.” As careful as your wording is, it is also very true. The prince has been nothing but kind and understanding, even sweet, since you came to him for help. Ellaria’s own attention to you has been only welcoming. And Raeden? Raeden has been the magnificent man that you have always known him to be. If you could not wed your soulmate, this is hardly a worst-case substitute.

“Good.” Your father is extremely pleased, especially since that means good relations with Dorne. It will prove very profitable to your former house.

“We should sit.” People are beginning to rustle around you, finding seats and turning their attention to the wedding at hand instead of the one no one was invited to. “We will have time to speak more later.”

“That we will, pumpkin.” Your father nods respectfully to you and Oberyn, frowning slightly when he sees the man’s paramour but he doesn’t speak on it since you seem undisturbed by her presence.

“Yes, I think we will indeed,” you mother murmurs unhappily, and you can’t quite tell if she’s going to have opinions for your father or for you. One thing is certain either way, Prince Oberyn won’t be hearing a single word of it.

“Come, my loves.” Oberyn offers both of his arms to you and Ellaria. “The Sept and the wedding of the king awaits us.”

It is for show. You must remember that. And yet the moment the word passes his lips it pierces something in you that you had not expected. It might be hope, or affection, or simply gratitude, but when you take his arm to walk together there is a moment where you could almost swear he means it. And that is not something you had ever even considered possible until this very moment.

Oberyn does not enter anywhere without causing a stir. Especially when he comes with not one, but two beautiful women on his arms. He smirks as he nods towards another noble that he has seen at the brothel over the past few days. Now sitting next to his wife.

People gawk when the prince is near. That is something you will have to adjust to in time. For now you are simply grateful when he situates you and Ellaria between himself and Raeden in the vast pews of the Citadel to bear witness to the Union of King Joffrey and Lady Margaery.

Oberyn allows you to sit beside your lover, his own body pressed against Ellaria’s, although he drapes his arm over the back of the bench so he can trail his fingers over the skin of your shoulder. Making sure people see him touch you. As if you are his wife in every sense of the word.

The painfully tedious ceremony holds no joy or wonderment for you. The couple at the altar do not seem happy to be standing with each other – more that they are playacting at it. The words seem insincere and the vows rehearsed, and it throws into sharp relief how different a turn yesterday had taken in your own marriage. That would have been you, three or four weeks from now standing beside the prince with dread in your mouth. Instead he had saved you without hesitation. Your marriage of necessity already holds far more affection than this match in front of you. Even if he is only touching you for show, the simple fact that you do not shrink from the prince’s touch speaks volumes.

Oberyn is well aware of the affect that touching can have on a person. He feels the slight shiver and goosebumps pop up on your skin. While no one should be paying attention, any that are would think that you are anticipating a more intimate touch later. He leans over to kiss his paramour’s shoulder when Joffrey speaks.

The king may as well be speaking gibberish for all the attention you are paying, too distracted by the ghost of a touch across your shoulder to register the words echoing over the assembled spectators. If you were in private you might have closed your eyes against the feeling but as it is you are left to wonder how something so simple is able to make you feel so much. It would be downright embarrassing if anyone could see the way your body is responding – and the thin sheen of shame at being aroused to the point of dampness between your legs from anyone other than Raeden is very real.

Raeden knows the prince is touching you, he can feel your body stiffen beside his. Confusion swirling in his gut because he’s jealous. Not only because he can touch you whenever he wants, but because the guard wants Oberyn to touch him.

Ellaria, for her part, seems amused by being in the middle of you and Oberyn's lightly flirtatious touch. Having been on the receiving end of so many of his touches before she does not feel jealous to know he is touching someone else that way, but is very much interested to know how you will feel in response. From the way you are watching the altar very deliberately with faraway eyes, she would have to say you are enjoying it – perhaps very much.

Finally the vows are exchanged and Oberyn grimaces when the kiss happens. Leaning in and whispering loud enough that you and his lover can both hear. “I think that there will be some wine hastily swallowed after that kiss.”

You know you should not react, but the way your cheeks tighten barely smothers a smirk. The fact that you did not have to suffer through a ceremony as painful as this one seems a mercy now.

“Lover.” Ellaria chides, although her tone is vastly amused. “They are young still.”

Oberyn snorts and shakes his head. “I had already sired Obara by that age. Killled a man in my first duel.”

The whole of the sept are rising to their feet to applaud the happy couple, and when you stand you throw an amused smile at Ellaria with the soft memory of her kiss in the carriage on your lips. "At their age I had not even been kissed," you admit under your breath.

“That is a shame.” She pouts, shaking her head. “You should be kissed often. Everywhere.”

If the gentleman in front of you heard her he does not show it, but you look away briefly as the sept goes up in applause and cheers as the people of Westeros celebrate their new queen and her marriage to the king. "Perhaps," you murmur under your breath, not knowing what else to say.

“Come.” Oberyn slides out of the bench and reaches for both of you. “There will be wine and food. Perhaps we shall find some entertainment as well.”

"Dancing, lover?" Ellaria hums as she casts a look back at Raeden. "I believe your bride and I should both like to dance."

“Then we will dance.” He smirks and leans into you. “Ellaria is a very seductive dancer, my love.” He confides playfully.

It is only for show, you remind yourself again when that word warms through you like fire. "Raeden is a wonderful dancer as well." Is what you say instead, offering up the morsel of information to be shared within your small group. The times you had danced together in secret were wonderful, romantic moments.

“Then you and my paramour must take turns with Ser Raeden.” Oberyn knows that it will be far less suspicious if he dances with both women, as if the prince had ordered it. It would allow you to have a moment with your soulmate, being open without it being common knowledge.

"We will all enjoy the festivities to their utmost, your Grace." Raeden's voice is low but warm, full of gratitude at being able to be a part of the moment instead of simply standing by and observing. It is not easy to forever feel like an ornament.

“Make sure you eat too.” Oberyn glances over at him with a grin. “Ellaria will wear a man out if he does not eat before tangling with her.”

"I will, your Grace." The invitation could even be considered an order, but Ellaria winks over her shoulder at him and Raeden actually smiles. To be treated well – as though he is wanted by people other than you – is a welcome feeling.

As the four of you make your way to the gardens, Oberyn swaggers, aware that many have their eyes on the unusual pairing, and he hums happily. “I think the queen mother will not be happy that the attention is taken off her bastard son.”

"I only hope Queen Margaery is not upset." She had been so kind to you, after all. You would hate to sour her wedding day.

“I doubt she will be.” Oberyn doesn’t believe the girl is stupid enough to believe that the day is supposed to be truly happy. Not with Olenna Tyrell as her grandmother. He looks around and spots her brother Loras. Smirking when the third son of Mace Tyrell catches his eye.

"Do you know that gentleman?" The curly-haired blonde looks familiar but you cannot place him, thinking only that you must have seen him in the halls of the Keep during the few days that you were there. The fact that he is looking rather lustfully at the man you are recently married to does not truly factor into anything. In fact, you understand it fully.

“Hmmmm.” Oberyn guides you to a table to sit down, plopping into a seat beside you as Ellaria sits on his other side. “Loras Tyrell.” He informs you. “Our queen’s brother and the Knight of Flowers.” He hums in amusement. He sends the man a small, sly wink.

"I do not think I am familiar with that title." There are pitchers of wine and goblets on every table even before the feast has begun, and bowls of fruit and nuts scattered around the gardens for guests to indulge in with their first glasses of wine. Even after only knowing the prince for a day, you know for certain that he will focus on those bowls of treats over any other food.

Ellaria leans over Oberyn and pops a berry into her lover’s mouth as he continues to make eyes at the other man. “He is also known as the knight of pansies.” She tells you with a smirk. “It is said that half the women in the seven kingdoms want to bed him, but….” She moans quietly when Oberyn sucks on her finger. “His interest lay elsewhere, preferring a cock over a cunt.”

"Oh." Your eyes widen for a moment before you can school your expression into something much more neutral, and you almost imagine feeling Raeden stiffen on your other side. "I see." So many other people in world seem so comfortable with that attraction – the pull between two men or two women – but you were raised differently. Making your own moments of attraction to other women all the more confusing and never to be spoken of.

“Do not tell me you disapprove?” Ellaria asks, hearing the censure in your voice. If you cannot accept Oberyn’s tastes, then your marriage will be a cold one.

"No." It is out of your mouth so fast that the word is almost too loud, which surely would have gotten your group even more attention. "N—no. It is only..." It is that you are jealous, you realize with a moment of regret, and you look down at your hands in your lap instead of at any of them. "It is only that we are not so free with such things in the Vale," you explain quietly. "It is an adjustment."

“It is not free in the majority of the seven kingdoms.” Oberyn reaches for a wine goblet and takes a swallow. “I just do not care what people think of me.”

"Perhaps that is a virtue, your Grace." If you could simply disappear in order to escape, you would do it happily. This moment has made you far too aware of things that you had been trying to tamp down and your discomfort is rising measurably.

“Lover, you are embarrassing your bride.” Ellaria tilts her head slightly as she looks over at you.

"Upsetting." Raeden corrects softly, knowing the look on your face as intimately as any lover possibly could. He cannot comfort you in public, but he can certainly alert those who can to how you are truly feeling. What he does not know is why you are upset. Unless the idea of two men indulging in each other is that dismaying for you after all.

That makes Oberyn look away from his potential conquest to look over at you. “Why is my princess upset?” He demands softly, reaching out and caressing your cheek.

"Please..." If they ask then you will be bound to say, and that could be more embarrassing for you than upsetting. Or perhaps it would be damaging altogether, you cannot tell. All you know is that someone is bound to be hurt by it and you do not wish to hurt anyone at all. "Please, do not fuss. I am simply not feeling myself."

Oberyn is not a man who listens, especially not when he can see now there is something bothering you. You might not be his lover, but you are his wife, under his care. And like everyone under his care, he listens. Turning to Ellaria, a silent conversation passes with a look and flirtations with Loras are put on hold as he stands and draws you to your feet. “Come with me.”

There is nothing you can do but obey, and not only because he is your husband. There are eyes on you from every direction and you refuse to cause a scene. So you are left to simply nod, letting him take your hand and lead you from the table as guests continue to arrive and mill about, greeting each other before the king and his new queen arrive to their own banquet.

He knows that some will think that he is stealing his wife away for an intimate moment, and he might have if circumstances had been different. As it is, he guides you towards a deserted part of the gardens before he stops. “Princess?”

"I am still not used to being called that." And you cannot bring yourself to meet his eyes, either, looking down at your hands and skirts to avoid it entirely. "And I apologize if I have upset you at all."

“I am not upset.” He captures your chin and tilts it up, watching you with serious eyes. “However, you are.”

"I am..." His eyes are warm despite their seriousness, and you are reminded that he has been a father almost as long as you have been alive. It makes you wonder if he is treating you like he might treat one of his daughters – which is a terrible thought for entirely separate reasons. “I am.” You admit softly, and your eyes close to avoid looking at him again. "But only with myself."

“Why are you upset with yourself?” He frowns slightly and looks back towards the garden where the clapping had started. Obviously the king and queen had shown up. “Does the idea of those things disgust you?” He had not gotten that feeling before, but maybe he had been wrong.

"Those things?" It takes a moment for your mind to catch up again, but you shake your head. It feels like you are swimming when you do, a very disorienting feeling to begin with and now it makes you feel like you are drowning. "You mean...no. No, it does not...love is not disgusting. That is not..." You sigh out a long, deep breath and wish to all seven gods that you had been able to simply keep your composure at that table. Or that Raeden had not ratted you out to your new husband. "My first experiences with intimacy were with a woman. It is not that I am disgusted at all."

He is stunned into silence for a moment before he slowly starts to smirk. “Princess.” He picks up your hand and kisses the back of your hand and squeezes it gently. “There is no judgement here.” He promises. “If you wish to resume those experiences, you are most welcome to. As long as your Raeden does not object.” He longs to ask what kind of intimacies you have experienced but you look like you are about to expire. “If Ellaria is not your choice, there are dozens of clean, gorgeous whores to choose room when we return tonight.”

"Ellaria is remarkable. Anyone she even looks at twice should be honored." The last thing you would ever want is for either of them to believe that you were not grateful for their help and appreciative of their attention. Having the prince and his paramour turn their attention on you for even a moment is like being bathed in summer sun. "I simply..." Although there is nothing simple about it. "Never met anyone before who ever seemed to be able to make the difficulties of caring for more than one person seem possible. And it is...more difficult to understand than I would like to admit." It breaks the very foundation of what you thought was true about love and attraction, and so it is causing you more discomfort to think about than you are willing to admit. "Forgive me if that is a disappointment."

“The only disappointment will be if you do not live how you wish to.” Oberyn assures you, starting to understand your dilemma a bit better. “Men can have their wives, their lovers, and whores while no one would think it odd. A woman is held to a different standard because men want things their way. They wish to never believe they might not satisfy the wife or there is no need for another lover beyond his visits to her bed.” He shakes his head and scoffs. “They are fools.”

"Before very recently, I thought I knew well what life I wanted." It was one you never thought that you would be able to live, but you were convinced that it would have been what made you happy. To be Raeden's wife in a small village somewhere in the unknown world would have been wonderful. To birth and raise his children, to work for his happiness would have made your own. That unattainable dream is now even further away and you find yourself wondering now if happiness might actually be attainable with the life you have been handed. Or if Raeden would despise you for being glad to have Prince Oberyn and his paramour in your life.

“If you wish, I will send you to a small estate.” Oberyn frowns, not liking the idea much. “You and your Raeden. A place without servants or pretense.” He really doesn’t care for the idea, but you don’t seem to know what you want.

"But then I would not see you." Your response is immediate, shaken slightly, and your eyes dart up to his with surprising speed.

He relaxes slightly and nods. “Then you will figure out what makes you happy and enjoy it to the fullest.” He predicts with a soft smile.

"I can only hope that it does not take too long to understand myself." Although, you have an immense fear that it will. Apparently you have been lying to yourself just as you have lied to others. Just about different things.

“It takes however long it takes.” He pats your hand. “Did you enjoy your night with your soulmate?”

"It was a relief to not be afraid," you tell him quietly. Being patted makes you feel like a child, and once again you wonder if he thinks of you with the same regard as any other young girl his daughters' age. "I hope you enjoyed your night as well?"

“There is much pleasure to be had within the walls of that brothel.” He hums happily. “Cal very eagerly bounced on my cock while Ellaria sat on my tongue and licked her pretty little redhead’s cunt.” He chuckles, “I am hoping tonight to find out how talented the Tyrell boy’s ass milks a cock.”

"And that much physical pleasure does nothing to diminish your love for Ellaria?" It is the bare minimum that you can do for him, in the way he has done so much for you, to try to understand him. The way he indulges his lust seems to be a fundamental need for him, so as much as it is new for you, you will do what you can to become more comfortable with it.

“Never.” Oberyn shakes his head. “Everyone would have to stand in line behind her.” He smiles and gives a very dreamy look. “It actually makes our own love sweeter. Her pleasure is my pleasure and she feels the same.”

"The way you love her is admirable." On your best days, you hope that you love Raeden half as well. It is only that the wish in the back of your mind for love and happiness is beginning to include him, and that is startling to you.

“Despite the fact that we share scars, I choose her.” He explains. “Every day we choose each other.”

"That makes you both very lucky. To be able to choose each other without fear." Your hands are still in his and they flex gently in his grip. Despite being married to this man under the eyes on the gods, you feel irrevocably shy in his presence.

“You can choose your soulmate, Princess.” He reminds you quietly. “Now, we must return and pretend that we were fucking.”

"I do choose him." A wave of boldness rises up from your toes that you do not understand or truly even want to comprehend, but it is there anyway. "I did not know before now that I could choose more than one person." His hands are firm in yours and before you can stop yourself, you are pulling him back to you and pressing your lips to his in earnest, only hoping that he does not consider you foolish for acting impulsively.

Oberyn had promised you that he would never take what you did not offer and he had meant it. However, you have initiated this kiss and as much as it shocks him, he reacts. One hand cups the back of your head and the other wraps around your back so he can guide you towards the nearest tree as his tongue pushes past your lips and he kisses you with a hunger that surprises even him.

The fire of the moment leaves you breathless, shaken to your core just the same way you were the first time you kissed Raeden. There is passion and need there, to such a degree that you cling to him as he cages you between his body and the nearest tree, letting him map every inch of your mouth as you eagerly do the same with him.

It is a change of heart from yesterday but he won’t question it. Not when you are pressing yourself against him and gripping his robes as if you are afraid that he would pull away. Making him groan quietly as his tongue strokes yours eagerly.

It is only the need to breathe that makes you pull away from him, and even then you feel your head spin. “I—” You do not need to apologize for kissing your husband, but still it feels like an intrusion. Like you ought to have asked, or spoken to Ellaria first. Spoken to Raeden first. But it was done in the heat of the moment. “I do not yet know exactly what I want,” you admit, your heart racing. “But I wish for you to be included in it. Somehow.”

“Then I will fit into whatever slot you determine.” He is panting slightly and he cannot deny that his cock has hardened under his robes. You are disheveled and that will play into the rumor that he fucked you in the gardens nicely.

“We should return.” Your body is on fire the way only one other person has ever managed in your life, and you have to consciously make the decision to let go of his robes and step back so you don’t do anything inappropriate.

“We should.” Oberyn wants to kiss you again, but the moment has passed. Offering you his arm again as Cersei comes into view. He huffs quietly and stares.

The flustered expression on your face coupled with the Dornish prince looking like the cat who got the cream makes Cersei rankle, but she says nothing as the pair of you glide past her. Another slut for Oberyn's harem, she thinks with a roll of her eyes.

“That will be a burr in her cunt for days.” He predicts quietly with a smirk.

"Surely she knows your reputation." You murmur, looking back at him. "It should not surprise her."

“One would think.” Oberyn hums, knowing it is only a matter of time before Cersei lowers herself to actually approach him with her real problem, her daughter. She has never been happy that Myrcella had been sent to Dorne, betrothed to his nephew. “She is not to be trusted.” He advises you quietly. “The Lannisters lie.”

“I do not believe a Lannister has ever spoken me to before our meeting yesterday.” You breathe as he ushers you quickly through the gardens.

“Count yourself fortunate.” Oberyn sneers. “Even more so if you do not have to converse with another until the day their house lays in ruin.”

“Do not let her presence sour your mood, my lord.” Until catching sight of the Dowager, he had seemed to be in a relatively good humor, and you are still very much buzzing from kissing him. The last thing you want is for that good feeling to be overshadowed.

He relaxes slightly, aware he was letting his personal animosity for the Lannisters get to him. “You are right.” He looks over at you with amusement. “Is it all women, or those that I am around?”

“I am not sure I understand?” Perhaps you might know what he is asking you if your mind were not so hazy, but with your hand wrapped around his arm as you walk, there is no escaping it.

“The women around me seem to always be right.” He jokes, sending you a small wink when your frown of confusion seems to make him want to kiss you again. While you might have kissed him a moment ago, he doesn’t believe that you have given him permission to reciprocate whenever he wished.

“Ellaria is very clever.” Something which you do not know if you can claim for yourself, but you certainly can praise her from sunrise to sunset.

“As is the woman who is my princess.” He hums, patting your hand. “Clever and brave.” He praises. “You decided that your lover’s life was worth everything when another would have never been brave enough to venture through the city or come to a man you had no interest in marrying.”

“You were my only hope.” There is no shame in admitting that, especially because he had proven to be so much more than just understanding. He has so much kindness to share. “And I am very grateful to you for your mercy. Not everyone would have opened their arms to their betrothed’s soulmate the way you did.”

“It would have been a shame to have such a man put to death for a lie.” He does not think he did much. “Nor would you have been happy if he had.”

“Yes,” you agree with a nod. “But do you realize how few would have taken either my happiness or the lie into account?”

“All but those few are fools.” He tells you with a shrug. “Liars will continue to lie and happiness in your home is the greatest treasure a man can possess.”

“And you are a good man, which I am grateful for.” When Raeden and Ellaria are in sight again, you can see plainly that they have been having their own intimate discussion and though you expect to feel nerves or jealousy, it is relief that washes over you.

“There are some who would not agree with you.” Oberyn sees that Raeden has shifted closer to Ellaria, his protective nature apparently extending towards your husband’s paramour. It is warming to see.

“Then perhaps it is that you are a good husband?” When he pauses in his step you offer him a shy smile. “And for that I am grateful as well.”

Retuning to the feast, Oberyn sets you down and nods towards your lover, assuring him that you are not upset any longer. Another, longer conversation would be needed, but it could wait for another time.

Ellaria tucks herself into Oberyn’s side easily when he sits again, and there is mischief in her eyes but the first thing she does is lean into him. “All is well?”

“Of course.” Oberyn leans in and brushes his nose against hers. “My wife feels guilty that your kiss is not the first she has ever shared with a woman.”

“No?” This seems to delight Ellaria, or at least it is unexpected enough that her eyes light up. “But that is not a reason for guilt. I do not desire to claim her innocence.”

“I think she does believe that to want another means that she does not love her Raeden enough.” Oberyn ventures quietly.

“Or is she afraid that he will think so?” Ellaria frowns, tutting softly. “I hope neither does. For their sake. Love should not include fear.”

“We know that.” His hand links with hers and he brings them up to kiss hers softly. “But we have been free to love for longer than they have.”

“I am fine,” you assure Raeden quickly after sitting down again, touching your hand to his leg ever so briefly under the table where it cannot be seen. “I was overwhelmed, but I am better. Did you…have a conversation with Ellaria? While we were gone?” The urgency of the question in your mind makes you wonder if you hope they did more than speak, but that is too vast of a thought to conquer right now.

“I did.” Raeden nods, sure that he hears hope in your voice and wonders about it. Something has shifted slightly, as if the bath this morning changed things and he is not sure how to align himself.

"And...all is well?" There is no reason it should not be, but the sudden guilt you feel at having enjoyed kissing the prince so thoroughly floods you and makes you reach for your wine.

"It...is." Raeden does not tell you what Ellaria said, you are aware of her interest in him, you have spoken on it. However, he wonders if you are really aware of her interest in you.

"You are upset." The weight on your shoulders presses down on you, chastising you for daring to enjoy the prince's attention while leaving your soulmate to be upset by someone else. " I—I should not have...have left you. Forgive me."

"I am not upset." Confused, confounded and wholly unsure of himself – but he is not upset. Especially considering that you are wearing a slightly dreamy expression on your face. One that reminds him of the look that you carried when the two of you were early in the days of your secret romance.

"If that is what you say then I believe you." After all, he has never lied to you. Or made you believe that he was hiding something. It is only you who are hiding things from him. At this very moment. The fear of what he would think if he knew you were feeling attraction for the man you married is deep and terrifying.

He is very aware of the fact that you do not sound completely convinced. And yet he finds himself nodding as he looks towards you again and then around the feast to make sure that no one is watching. "All is well." He promises, reaching down and stroking your thigh gently under the table.

"You are smiling, lover." Ellaria leans into Oberyn's side, her voice quiet and a berry between her fingers already destined for his lips. She has a feeling that whatever passed between you and the prince, it was more lighthearted than what was spoken between her and Raeden.

"She kissed me." Oberyn reveals quietly, accepting the berry eagerly and turning to watch his lover's reaction to that little bit of news.

Her eyebrow raises in interest, and Ellaria tucks her smirk into the corner of her mouth. "More than a polite peck? Otherwise you would not look so pleased with yourself."

"Much different from the shallow kiss we exchanged at the Citadel." He hums, finding it to be a small victory. The woman he had married yesterday had no intentions of ever kissing him again, by all accounts.

"So your idea to invade their bath this morning turned out the way you wished?" It had not been a malicious act, or even a manipulative one, but it had been Oberyn's intention to attempt to knock down the walls between the four of them this morning. Or at least to begin to fracture the strength of those walls.

"Perhaps." He won't say that you are willing to jump into bed with him, but the idea of more is certainly there. "How was your conversation with our Ser Raeden?"

"He is, I think, a harder nut to crack." Which is disappointing, but not exactly surprising. She reaches for his wine to put the goblet in Oberyn's hand. "As you say, we have been free to love for longer than they have. It is harder to admit one's wants when you have not been allowed to even think of those things in your own mind."

"They are both very repressed creatures." Oberyn sighs softly.

"It is not their fault." She tuts softly, feeling sympathy rather than pity. "Your princess is already making strides."

"Yes she is." He looks over at you and watches as you Raeden talk quietly between yourselves. "Perhaps Ser Loras would enjoy our company this evening?" He asks, shifting his gaze back across the garden towards the other man.

Taking that to mean that you have not made much progress, Ellaria simply nods and leans in to brush a kiss or two along her soulmate’s jaw. “A delectable choice. You will fit perfectly between us, or else I will enjoy my evening quite thoroughly with Cal and Leyth.”

The music starts quietly as the minstrels begin to play. Filling the courtyard with the sweet strands of joy and light. Oberyn looks over at his lover and leans in, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. "Whatever we do, it will be together, my sun."

The crowd applauds dutifully to see the newly married couple dance together, the steps long practiced and rehearsed. The queen is resplendent and joyful, laughing as she moves with elegance, and soon enough others are standing to join the festivities.

Oberyn leans over again, making sure that he keeps his voice loud enough for any nearby to hear. "Ser Raeden, would you take my wife to dance?" He asks, standing and holding out his hand for Ellaria to take. "I would wish for her to enjoy all the festivities this wedding has to offer."

“It would be my honor.” Standing to offer you his hand for the very first time under the public eye as though you had not danced dozens of times in the woods or your chambers, Raeden bows his head respectfully and keeps his smile soft when you take his hand. Most people here have no idea who you are – who Raeden is – but can follow the pattern of two guests in House Martell’s colors getting up to dance together. For the other Dornish nobles that surround you? They simply could not care less who you dance with. There have been polite nods and smiles but nothing more quite yet. For now, your only focus is not stepping on Raeden’s toes in the dance.

Oberyn and Ellaria move fluidly with one another. Years together has allowed them to move with a grace that compliments one another both in bed and when dancing. Sweeping out onto the area that is designated as the dance floor, Oberyn pulls his paramour into his arms and holds her close as he looks towards you and Raeden. If he weren't attracted to both you and the other man, some would say that his bemused smile might seem fatherly as he watches you dance with approval on his face.

“No one can stop us, love,” you whisper quietly, trying to soothe Raeden into relaxing a little in the hold he has on you. Not that you don’t appreciate his strength, but you can tell it comes from nerves. “We could dance until sunup if we liked.”

It's surreal that your mother could not interfere with your dance. Almost as if he is in a dream that is not quite perfection but close enough. His eyes slide over to your husband and he hums. "Unless the prince would not like it." He reminds you.

“He specifically asked you to dance with me.” The music is familiar and wistful, and you turn easily in Raeden’s arms. “There is no reason for him to object.”

"True." He murmurs quietly, pulling you closer and swallowing. "I wish I could kiss you now." He admits, just loud enough for you to hear. "That this was our wedding dance."

“We can pretend,” you murmur back, wishing the same in the depths of your heart. The voice in your mind that reminds you that you are wed – spoken for by a good and clever man – gives you only the smallest measure of guilt. It occurs to you in a wave of confusion that you wish you could have married them both. But that is truly impossible.

"It should be your wedding dance with the prince." He reminds you, not quite as bitter as the comment might have been if he had not experienced how generous the man could be.

“Why can I not dance with both of you?” Well aware of the question that you are not brave enough to ask, this is the best and closest you will probably ever come. And perhaps that is for the best.

"You can." Raeden's hand on your back flexes slightly, the thin material giving him a tantalizing closeness to your flesh that your normal gowns would never permit. "I would never deny you anything you wished, my love."

“You would not feel slighted? Or that I wanted to dance with you any less?” It feels unbelievable that he might actually understand your true meaning, but you have to ask. It feels as if you might burst if you do not.

Raeden pulls back, his dark eyes boring into yours for a long moment, interpreting the question with the same fears and desires that have been plaguing him since meeting both Ellaria and the prince. "Do you want to dance with them?" He is not misspeaking, he is including Ellaria into the question as well on purpose. "I— I would not feel slighted. It does not change my love of dancing with you."

“Do you want to dance with them?” A gasp catches in your throat, shock and that sheen of hope fluttering over you once more.

"Do not ask me that." Raeden begs you, biting his lip and looking across the dance floor. Unable to meet your eyes with the shame of his desires. You would not understand, not really. The things he wants are...unreachable. "You might not accept the answer."

“Do you really think so little of me?” You are not angry, only hurt that you are asking him if he wants the very same thing you want and he thinks that you would deny him. That you would think less of him. The man you love with your deepest heart, and he doubts you. “I would give you anything.”

"I think..." Raeden inhales roughly and meets your eyes. "That we know very little about lust and love." He confesses quietly as the dance comes to an end.

It is not the honesty of his answer that stings, but that he is so correct. That in your excitement and anticipation you had forgotten that there could be a difference at all. It does not matter much now, as you bow to each other in the changing of the music. He is already stepping away from you.

Oberyn appears next to Raeden, his hand on the guard’s back. "Ser Raeden, will you dance with Ellaria while I take the next dance with my wife?" He asks quietly, not sure why you both suddenly look so unhappy.

“As your Grace commands.” Raeden steps away from you fully and bows his head to the prince before moving to Ellaria’s side, leaving you and your husband alone on the vast dance floor.

"I had believed that you would be happy with a dance with your lover." Oberyn reaches for you as the music starts again. Pulling you into his arms and looking over to find Raeden doing the same with Ellaria. "Yet unhappiness clouds your pretty eyes."

“He is keeping something from me and I do not understand why.” Despite the matter of a day being all you have known the prince for, you have found yourself being fully honest with him this afternoon. Something which is more comforting than you might have guessed. “I fear I may have pressed him too far.”

"It is hard for a man to admit weakness to anyone, especially the woman he loves." Oberyn hums quietly, wanting to reassure you. "Especially if it is something that he is afraid of how it would be received."

“There is nothing he could tell me that would make me think less of him.” The prince’s presence is steadying, keeping you upright and grounded even when you feel near tears. “I do not understand what could be so terrible. Unless he intended to step back from me entirely, but even that…it would break my heart but it would not cause me to hate him. He would surely have a reason.”

"Your soulmate's bond with you is not one that is going to suffer." Of that, he can be certain. He moves around the floor with you effortlessly and bends you down when the dance calls for it before he pulls you back up. "I acknowledged unusualness when I was very young, my family did not rebuke me." He murmurs quietly. "No one dares to speak ill of it to my face because of my family name. Your Raeden has not had that luxury."

“There is nothing so unusual that it would make me love him less.” Not fully understanding what is being said, you do still know that for sure.

Oberyn hums, deciding that he will not push the issue, looking over at Ellaria draped over your soulmate and he smiles. She is very attracted to Raeden and the poor man is having a hard time hiding his own attraction to Oberyn's paramour.

“I have said too much and made you uncomfortable as well.” Your eyes drop from his face and you nod solemnly. “Forgive me.”

"You have not made me uncomfortable." He promises, his arms tightening around you. "I am aware you are not fully aware of what I am speaking of, and I hesitate to discuss it with you when it should be your lover."

“My brother says I apologize too much.” You offer, hoping it gives him some insight into who it is he had married. “Though if he knows the reason why, he has never said.”

"Because of your bitch of a mother?" Oberyn hazards a guess, his eyes finding the harpy watching unhappily from her seat in a relatively obscure area.

"Most likely." You blow out a sigh in that unladylike way that would normally get you reprimanded. "She is kinder to my brothers, though. It seems only to be me that she despises."

"Obara's mother was jealous of her." Oberyn hums. "Hated that I wanted her. Wanted to take her away from the hovel that she kept her in. Tried to prevent me from taking my blood, tried to convince me that she wasn't mine."

Grimacing slightly, you shut your eyes briefly and try not to look terribly upset, since there are eyes on you. "My mother has told me more than once that she wishes she had drowned or dashed me at birth. It is not easy to be told such a thing."

"Bitch." He hisses, eyes narrowing in anger at the abuse you had been dealt. "I am glad that she did not get her way." He promises you quietly. "The skies would be a much darker place without stars such as you."

"You are kind." At least, he is to you. And you are more certain than ever that you would never want the prince to be upset with you. You suspect it would hurt your heart if he was.

"No I am not." He shakes his head and chuckles. "I am arrogant, quick tempered and selfish." He knows that he is not the paragon of virtue that you are making him out to be. "I will kill a man if he angers me on the wrong day and think nothing of it."

"And yet?" Your eyes find his ever so tentatively. "It was you who I went to when I needed safety. And you who has comforted me when I was upset. So perhaps you are more than either of us says."

"I am safe." It amuses him to find that to be the case because most would believe that Oberyn Martell is not safe. "I do not hold your heart, so I cannot hurt you."

"You hold my life," you remind him gently. "It is in your power to hurt me in extraordinary ways if you wish. But I do not think you will."

"No, I will not." Oberyn assures you. "You are like the moon in the sky, lovely and unobtainable. Shimmering like a diamond that makes me wish to bask in the soft glow you give off."

It no longer surprises you to know that he occasionally writes poetry, although the new feeling is the wish that he would write some for you. "That sounds very lonely, even as beautiful as you make it out to be."

"The moon hangs closest when the waves lap against the rocky shores near Sunspear." Oberyn reaches up and caresses your cheek. "Making me believe that I could reach up and capture it in my palm, holding it with all the wonder it possesses." Your strength and resolve calls to him. Makes his heart stir like he has not felt in a very long time. Like he had imagined was not possible since he had met his paramour. Yet your eyes on his has his heart quickening.

"Oberyn..." His name is barely a breath when it floats from your lips, wide eyes looking at him with that same sense of wonder that he has described. The claim that does not hold your heart at all might be the most ludicrous thing you have ever heard, but that thought is something you have not tangled with enough to articulate.

"My moon and stars." He hums quietly, watching you with a softness that seems to make everything around the two of you fade to the background. He knows that it might be too much too soon, but he feels it. A connection between you that is impossible to describe beyond meant to be.

"I—" Wishing desperately for another surge of bravery like the one you felt in the garden, the presence of so many eyes on you is the only thing stopping you from kissing him again. Being acutely aware of being thought of as the prince's young or eager bride is not as horrible a thought as it might have been to you once, but you still have no wish to embarrass him.

"It is alright." He promises, seeing the conflicting emotions in your eyes and his fingers trail down your neck until they fall away from your skin. "Nothing needs to be said."

The moment of hesitation has lost you the feeling of his closeness – the feeling of deep intimacy between you – and in that moment you could weep for your own foolishness. But the song is ended and the other couples around you exchange their bows, forcing you to do the same. "It is only that I do not know the words," you insist softly.

"When you decide what they should be, they will come to you." He leans over and kisses your hand gently before straightening as Raeden moves back to your side. "Dance with your lover, star." He urges you gently and reaches for Ellaria when she stands within reach. "The day is still young."

******

A day so young and beautiful that no one present could ever fathom that it would end in blood, tears, and screaming fury as King Joffrey lay dead on the dais and Queen Margaery clung desperately to you in her grief and confusion. The terror of watching Lord Tyrion be carried away in irons, the chaos of the despondent on-lookers, the utter uncertainty of the entire situation have cast a pall over King's Landing by nightfall.

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x f!reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #reader x m!OC #male OC #female reader #male original character #Game of Thrones #soulmate au #arranged marriage #purple wedding

[cinnamoncascadian]

And they lived happily ever after.

Reposted with @nalonzooo’s permission for @rillils’ kissing queue.

Read @crinklefries’ Jane Austen’s Emma AU on AO3:

#kissing queue #stucky fanart #stucky kisses #wedding kiss #art for fanfiction #stucky fanfiction #regency au

[mybrokenveins3000]

He Likes Weddings - reader x Ross Macdonald oneshot

A/N: Here's some ridiculously sweet fluff for the broken Tumblr user's soul.

word count: 1.8k

♫ Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Richer

You're outside of the wedding venue standing on a bench. Your phone speaker is at full volume, and you're barely coping with the bad signal and the heat of the countryside.

"What do you mean you're not coming?" you sigh into the mic.

As a stream of apologies pours down the line, you spot a tall figure out of the corner of your eye.

He's dressed in a dark navy suit with his long dark hair tied up. He's doing a bad job of pretending he's not eavesdropping, eyeing you behind cigarette smoke. Despite his tough exterior and obvious nosiness, you figure it's difficult to be intimidated by a man with small, white flowers poking out of his jacket pocket.

"I don't care if something came up at work, this is the wedding of YOUR friends-- I DON'T KNOW ANYONE HERE!!"

You feel like those little, rich girls in Christmas movies who just want their dads to come home. But in this case, it's mid-July, home is the middle of nowhere, and dad is your disappointing, workaholic best friend.

"You know what, I'm just gonna go home if you won't--"

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

She hung up. Great.

As you lower your phone, you turn to face the audience of your little altercation, smoke escaping him as he laughs. It strikes you at that very moment how ridiculous you look, sweaty and flushed in your silk summer dress, standing on a memorial bench before a wedding.

He disposes of his cigarette as he approaches you. You get a clearer look at him and the situation - his pristine three-piece suit despite the weather, the pocket flowers, and what you assume to be a celebratory smoke before tying the knot. Fuck.

"Won't you stay?" he asks playfully offended, squinting as you foreground the blinding sun. He lends you a gentlemanly hand to help you off of the bench.

"NO! No, I am staying-- for sure!" you assure this man whom you've never met before in your life, hobbling off of the bench. "I mean, of course I'd stay for your wedding!"

"Sorry?"

"Congratulations! You must be so excited! Great weather too," you gulp.

His eyes widen in realisation, he cracks a slight smirk.

"Oh, darling, I'm not the groom"

You cock your head in confusion, eyes raking up and down his person, particularly the flower-pocket region.

"I'm not a groomsman either... I just really like weddings."

Now you're even more confused, but also pleasantly surprised.

"Well, in that case, I'll be going," you finally say, scooping your purse up from the bench, ready to walk back the way you came.

"You should stay," he exclaims after you.

"I don't know any of these people"

"You know me."

Oh.

He revels in the silence of your surprise. His eyes are like a child's, so persuasive and mischievous.

"And you are?"

"Ross," he extends his hand to shake yours, the same hand that helped you just a second ago, "I don't have a plus-one either."

Suddenly, the idea of this bearded, long-haired adult man getting ready for a wedding on his own flashes in your mind. Him excitedly putting on his suit and fixing his tiny pocket of flowers in the mirror. What a peculiar man. But you can't help smiling to yourself at the thought.

You hear the orchestra start up and people making their way to their seats from inside. You see bridesmaids and groomsmen assembling a few paces away.

He offers you an arm to loop yours into. Whilst you've rolled your eyes a record amount of times in your first few minutes of knowing this man, you accept his arm and walk into the venue.

---

You settled down next to him in one of the rows nearer to the back. Inside, it's beyond elaborate with flowers draped over every surface area conceivable to the human eye.

You glance over at him and he is so pure, so happy to be there. He is practically overflowing with excitement. The plan to go back home had escaped from your memory completely.

"You see that lady," he whispers to you, pointing at an older woman in a ridiculous bright yellow dress and hat combo, "that's the groom's overbearing aunt. All these flowers were her idea."

You give him a surprised, amused look, smiling at his knowledge. He winks at you.

"Ooh, and this one," he points to a man slumped over in the pews, definitely hungover, "that's the bride's ex."

"No way?!"

"Yes way!"

As more and more people file in, you gasp "oohs" and "ahhs" as you point at interesting characters and, like a human encyclopedia, Ross dishes back everything there is to know about them. This activity proves itself incredibly entertaining until the ceremony begins for good.

You absentmindedly brush dust off his suit jacket, straightening his tie and flowers whilst you're at it. If people were watching, you reckon they'd think you two were really together. You didn't mind that at all.

As the double doors open to reveal the bride, you see Ross' heart physically skip a beat. He's glassy-eyed, holding his chest where his heart is. He's more animated than the damn groom, you thought.

You find it endearing how he can look like the pinnacle of masculinity and yet fold so easily at dramatic displays of affection. Nothing could possibly ruin this moment for him, not the snoring from the hungover ex, not even the Nokia ringtone interrupting the officiator.

There were multiple instances during the ceremony where you thought he would crack. The flower girls and the father giving the bride away were moments met with a tear or two, much to your amusement. The vows were another honourable mention, of course. But it was the "I dos" and that final kiss that got him. How cliché, you laugh to yourself. And he's LOST it, hand over his mouth to stifle his lovesick cries. Your own hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

As the crowd cheers and hollers, him particularly louder than everyone else, you whip out a packet of tissues from your purse. He accepts them appreciatively, first blotting his face gently, then submitting to fully sobbing into the tissues.

You know you should be watching the happy couple, but all you can do is look at him.

Even though you just met, you are so certain you've never met anyone like him in your whole life. I'd never stay at a stranger's wedding for anyone else.

---

Having calmed this man down after the ceremony, you've been spending the whole reception by his side. The fact you've stuck right by this random man for so long feels like it should alarm you, but it doesn't. He seems to shine mingling with other guests with a glass of champagne in hand and eyes shining under the fairy lights, it's an image that you want to be familiar to you.

There's an instance where he finally introduces you to the newly married couple.

After a string of rehearsed "thank yous" from the couple, Ross beams "This is my date!", tipsy on his third or fourth drink, "We met this morning!"

"Ah, you must be the ACTUAL groom," you exclaim, shaking the groom's hand enthusiastically, much to his confusion, "HAPPY WEDDING!"

---

It's the couple's first dance, you and Ross are sitting next to each other, having moved his name tag to where your friend was supposed to sit. Couldn't think of a better replacement, no offence.

As the couple sway to a slow love song, you are surprised as, for once, his eyes aren't on the festivities but on you.

"Ross Macdonald, you're staring," you say as if you've known him for years, surpassing formalities and entering familiar territory.

You see him smile into his hand, eyes not moving. For a guy you've met only a few hours ago, you sure feel comfortable around him.

And, god, are you having fun.

Through slightly drunk vision, there's a vision, a daydream, of you and him dancing - you in white, him in the same, elaborate suit, same pocket of flowers, same enthusiasm. Rationally speaking, the thought is way too rash and inapt, but nice to think about under the warmth of his fingers playing with your dress.

"This is a very nice material," he mumbles. You lost count of the amount of drinks he's had.

"Am I going to be looking after you the entire night?"

"Consider yourself lucky," he smirks.

And you did. Consider yourself lucky, that is.

He plucks a flower out of the tiny bunch in his pocket and slides one behind your ear. His hand lingered against your face for a second longer.

"Beautiful"

---

It was an orchestra in the morning, jazz band in the evening sort of event. His suit jacket lay over your purse on your chair, empty glasses were strewn across your side of the table, and you're both destroying the dance floor. And you're laughing and shining with this stranger. There are not enough unafraid, unabashedly joyful men in the world, you think, the only one is spinning you around to a jazz cover of ABBA songs.

In a moment of dizziness, you fall backwards almost crushing one of the children, who was running around more so than dancing, but Ross catches you, holding you the dramatic, fairytale way.

"Hi!"

"Hi."

---

You find the pair of you sitting on that same bench you were stood on in the morning when you first met, which now feels like a lifetime ago. The jazz band is still playing away in the background, and you're both giggly from the excessive dancing and drinking, legs overlapping each other as you share a cigarette - you feel like a teenager.

"So, are you planning on tying the knot anytime soon? Have a wedding of your own? You clearly love them," you exhale the smoke into the midsummer night and pass the cigarette back to him.

"One day," he looks over at you, "if I meet the right girl," you glance right back at him. You both burst out in peals of laughter.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"You," you jab at him slightly feeling floppy, like your limbs are made of dust, "you are made for weddings, I even thought you were the groom!"

He gives you a look of disbelief, but you insist. He blushes hard as he exhales the white, romantic smoke. He passes the cigarette back to you, which is now stained with your lipstick. You could see a trace of it on his lips in the light.

After a final puff, you admit "I wasn't really a fan of weddings... not until today."

"Oh, really?"

"This is the first one I've went to that I actually enjoyed"

And it won't be the last, he wants to say.

"You don't believe in happy endings?" he says instead.

You're in this moment, suspended outside of time, in what seems to be an alternative timeline. You don't want to imagine how your night would look if you went home. Your life looks a lot different from this angle - it's about having fun, it's about saying yes or even:

"Actually, I do."

---

Friend: You're in the background of almost everyone's insta stories btw Friend: I thought you said you went home? You: [photo] meet my date You: aka your brother-in-law xoxo Friend: ?!?!

---

A/N: Guys, I hate to break it to you but I am feeling GOOD ABOUT THIS. This is VERY MUCH inspired by this particular blurb in the teacher!Ross universe by my friend and confidant @hypersonic04 because THERE NEEDS TO BE MORE FICS ABOUT ROSS AT WEDDINGS!! I went for a 2000s romcom kinda vibe. RIP if you're waiting on me to FINALLY graze smut/NSFW territory, I am a soft girl at the end of the day - sue me! Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed, love you forever!!!

#lol im in so much pain #ross macdonald #the 1975 #1975 band #fanfic #matty healy #adam hann #george daniel #matty the 1975 #asks #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald imagine #wedding ross macdonald #wedding au #ross macdonald oneshot

[chrollohearttags]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[eleonoraw]

This fine piece of art is a comission for my fic 100 men down made by super talented Elnstar @e-elnstar

#fan art #comission #death note #lawlight #light yagami #l lawliet #l x light #death note fanfiction #death note au #omegaverse #alpha l #omega yagami light #arranged marriage #wedding day #100 men down #my fic #artist e-elnstar #💖💖💖 #love this so much! #thank you!

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

Wanted to draw/practice some of these outfit finds I saw on Pinterest that inspired me for Chrysta's look in my Lost Boys Fic The White Wedding AU, and just wanted to see how she'd look in a couple! So here's some of the outfits she'd wear around the ruins of the Chapel [And a few I think the boys would like to see her in 👀] Along with her original sacrificial gown. Lemme know which one looks best on her~

#I think the shimmery gray one was the funnest #🍒daily dose of cherry🍒 #fruitbats🦇🍒 #🦇🤍White Wedding AU🤍🦇 #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #tlb 1987 #the lost boys fanfiction

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @mochie85 | divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

a/n: The majority of you voted for a lil' sneak peek... And here it is! Enjoy! 💚 It's not proofread yet, so... 🙈

Smol sneak peek...

The pâtisserie was bustling with people - of course. After all, it was the best in downtown; yes, probably in whole New York City.

With your hand was snugly wrapped up in Loki's bigger hand, you waited patiently in line until it was your turn. "Hi, we have an appointment for a wedding cake tasting," you explained to the friendly looking young man behind the counter. His eyes widened when he looked at you and Loki; recognising the both of you for sure. "Oh, uh, yes, give me a second, please..." He said nervously, looked down and seemed to search for something, until- "Ah, yes. Please follow me." You nodded with a smile. The young man's cheeks reddened and he smile bashfully back at you.

You and Loki followed him then to a little back room with two doors, a small grey sofa, white counter and some bar stools. The wall was painted in a beautiful shade of pastel orange and a few art pictures hung here and there. It looked quite neat and cosy.

"Have a seat, please." The man gestured towards the sofa. "Riley will be with you in a minute." You smiled, "Thank you." while your fiancè gave him a nod. Once more the young guy smiled shyly and fumbled nervously with his fingers. "It's an honour to have you here, Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Laufeyson."

For the first time since you entered the pâtisserie, Loki spoke up; leapfrogging you. "Well, it's a pleasure to be here." You silently agreed with the god; who still held your hand in a snug grip and made sure you were standing close to him.

Even though you were about to be married, he still showed the people who you belong to. _Guess some things never change,_ you thought with a smile; looking at your engulfed hand. You didn't care, though. Quite the opposite... Loki's slight possessiveness was attractive and admittedly sexy in your eyes.

The man opposite you blushed in a dark shade of red, "That's great to hear." before shuffling his feet. He was on the verge of leaving the room, but before he did, he turned around to face you and Loki once again; seemed now to have scratched all his bravery together and ask: "I-I know this is p-probably inappropriate to ask, b-but may I get an autograph l-later?"

You smiled brightly. The guy was kinda cute, you couldn't deny that. "Of course. Just hit us up before we leave again."

The young man's eyes twinkled with happiness - and relief. "T-Thank you." Then he left the little room and you and Loki alone.

About five minutes later, the other door at the side wall opened and in came a woman in 'workwear', bright pink hair, glasses and quite a few piercings.

You and Loki were sitting on the sofa - like instructed; hands still intertwined and resting in your lap. Your free hand was on Loki's thigh, close to his knee. When you saw the woman, you both stood up.

"Hi there!" She said in a happy, enthusiastic tone and crossed the distance to meet you and shake your hands. "I'm Riley, we talked on the phone. Nice to meet you." You shook her hand, smiling. "Y/N and Loki." The friendly woman winked, "I know." shook Loki's hand as well and gestured for the counter with the bar stools. "Shall we move over?" "Sure." You and the god followed Riley. She went behind the counter and you both got comfortable on the stools.

Baby Fever Crew: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @xthatpottahfanx @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @lokiforever @crimson25 @kimanne723 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @noideakitten @zombiesnips-blog @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @princess-ofthe-pages @coldnique @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokisrealpurpous @huntedmusicgardenn @lokischambermaid @mochie85

#the baby fever wedding #the baby fever au #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

[fluffysucker]

I vow to always be yours.

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Au)

Yours and Bucky's story told through your vows in your wedding day.

Part 2

"Bucky, I thought writing my vows would be the easiest thing. But turns out it's not. The only thing I could think about was the life we shared together.

At the age of 6, playing on the playground, I met this short blond boy who I learnt can't keep stuff to himself. Despite running his mouth quite often, I felt bad for him when others would make fun of him. So, me being me, I started looking out for him. Trying to hold him back or keep bullies from hurting him. And as a thank you, he would force his mum to take us to get ice cream. It became an almost weekly occurrence.

One week, after I -thanks god - managed to keep him from trouble, he told me his other friend, Bucky, is going to join us for ice cream this week. I was looking forward to meeting the boy version of me, according to Steve. We reached the ice cream shop and so behold, there were you. The most arrogant cocky 6 year old I have ever met. I didn't know the meaning of these words back then, but I knew one thing. I hated you so much. You think you are a better friend ohh I will show how good friend I'm. This day started the most annoying, irritating friendship I had in my life.

That little girl would pass out if she saw us now.

Years passed, and we had only two goals in our lives. Keep Steve alive, and don't kill each other. We used to piss each other so much that at dinner, we weren't allowed to speak. At school, people legitimately thought we hated each other. Which I thought was true too.

Until one day when were 14

You were away to visit your family, and Steve was being Steve. He managed to get himself in trouble. Big one this time. With seniors in high schools. The bikers kind parents always told us to avoid. Steve came running to my house telling me what happened and that we were supposed to be fighting these bikers soon. While Steve was trying to live up to the role of hero he always loved, I just laughed at him and told him we just have to tell bucky and he is going to handle it well and we will be okay. Steve looked to me and reminded me that the root of the problem wasn't his big mouth. It was that you weren't here. Bucky wasn't here. It downed on me like a bucket of ice. I started to panic thinking we were going to die and bikers we were going to eat us alive. Because you're not here. Because a part of me always knew that despite our very deep hatred for each other, you are my bestfriend. You always look out of me as well. You never let me take punch even if I was willing to. It was always you standing in front of us.

We managed to handle the fight with minimum losses, but I was left with the biggest wound ever. Maybe I don't hate as much as I think. The thought kept me at night. I can't possibly like you. Making fun of you is a personality trait. I thought that once you came back, everything would go back to normal, and I get back to my true self

You came back and I was faced with a bigger problem. I like way more than I thought. Why are your eyes so blue?. Was your smile always so charming?. How are you so handsome for a 14 year old?. All questions that I never thought of before and had no answers for.

I tried to convince myself it's a side effect of my period. That's all going to go away soon.

However, shit happened. I was left completely broken and defenceless. I couldn't tell you what happened. I had to keep it inside, thinking that it may go away like it never happened. But being the best friend you truly are, I found myself crying to you, spilling every bad thing they put me through. And you were there. You comforted me. Held me. Walked me through the pain and the journey of healing. Kept reminding me that I'm safe. Stayed by my side when it got too much.

All stuff that weren't helping my case of going back to hating you.

Untill one night. It was a tough one where I couldn't keep the demons at bay. You took me out and we watched the sunrise together. You looked at me, and you said you got me. That everything will be fine. I'm going to be alright.

From that day on, I never felt afraid again. Because I had you. I will always be fine because you are by my side.

I declared the end of the war with myself with the greatest victory ever. I love you.

I love you, and I could only hope in my heart that you love me too.

Two years passed, and we are juniors at high school now. I tried to keep my feelings hidden, but when you ask out Milly on a date, there is only so much I can keep. Silent treatment and acting like I'm not bothered were my go-to solutions in such situations. Because having you as a friend is better than nothing. But you didn't make it any easier too. You had to go around calling me your girl and making everybody know I'm off limits. Truth was, I didn't want anyone else.

After so much trying to find the truth about your feelings, turns out an invitation to Lily's birthday and a bunch of very bad one-liners from Rick was all you needed to ask me out.

And at the age of 16, you took me out on our first date. It was the best date I have ever been on. Spending half of your money for the whole month on me. Up to today, I can't believe a 16-year-old could be such a gentleman.

As you were walking me home, you told me you wanted today to be our anniversary. I asked you if you think we are going to have anniversaries to celebrate and you answered with lots and lots.

Here we are 15 years on the same day you took me out for the first time. I thought that I was already in love with you back then, but now, there are no words in the entire world enough to describe my love for you. My unconditional love for the man of my dreams. Better than my dreams.

You bring the light to my life. You bring life to me. You make everything better.

I don't know who I'm when I am not in love with you and I don't want to know her. Because you bring the best in me. You push me to be better. Help me be better. You encourage me to do stuff I never think are possible. You, lucky star

Through all my life, it's you who has been constant in my life. The one thing I know I can always run to. The secure place that holds me safe in the face of hardships. The arms that keep me warm and protected. You, my home.

The person I share all my days with. The person I went to college with. The person I go to work with every day. The persons I go home to. The person I want to tell my details with. You, my best friend

The man I've known my whole life. The man I've been in love with as long as I can remember. The love of my life. The man I want to share the rest of my life with. Build a house and have a family. You, my husband.

I vow to love you till the end of times and even after. To stay best friends forever. To keep Steve alive together. To make Sam hate his life a bit more every day. To see which of us get the better death stare from Nat. To annoy all of our friends with how much we love us each other. To always be your support, your fan, your family.

Till death do us apart, but even in death, I will find you.

I love you so much, Bucky Barnes "

#james buchanan barnes #beefy bucky #bucky au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #protective!bucky #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky fluff #bucky wedding #love story #mcu #marvel #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters