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thewordworrier · 5 months

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If You Marry Me - Part Three

Series Masterpost

Word Count: 7,676 words.

Time for a ceremony and some shenanigans.

The walk to the chapel wasn’t a long one, but Shelly was still glad that she had picked shoes that weren’t massively high. Because she had purchased a new pair of shoes, and she’d been wearing them on the bus a bit to wear them in. They were cute, would later on go with other outfits and had a lower heel. Mostly because she didn’t like very high heels - she couldn’t walk in them for very long. That was the main reason.

The secondary reason was that shoes with too high of a heel would mean that she would be too close to Gerard’s height (or the height of any of the band members really) and… She didn’t want that. She liked being shorter than them. She especially liked being shorter than a… Than a romantic partner. It made her feel cute. It made her feel like she could be protected and she liked that. Not that she wasn’t capable of looking after herself, because she could. But sometimes she wanted someone else to look after her. Sometimes she wanted help. Most of the time she just found it really difficult to ask for that.

The guys were already waiting for them when the girls got to the chapel around the corner. It was kinda cute, and not too tacky externally, which did please Shelly a bit.

“Ah,” Lux said quietly to her as they saw the guys ahead. “Your idea to tell them an earlier time worked.”

“Of course it did,” Shelly smiled a little.

“True, you are the brains here after all.”

The girls greeted the guys before Shelly ushered the band to sit down. She then went to check in with the staff - unaware that Gerard was watching her the whole time.

He watched her as she leant on the counter to talk to the woman behind it - she leant on all counters in that same way; hotels check-ins, receptions, fast food counters, all of those kinds of things. She would lean her arms on the counter, one foot resting behind the other - one foot forward so to speak, while the back one had its toes on the ground, heel in the air. She stood very cutely and Gerard never got tired of seeing her stand that way.

She smiled at the woman behind the counter and they had some kind of conversation while she got up and went to check a side drawer. She pulled out a box and Shelly handed over her ID. Shelly then took her ID back accompanied by the box. She stood normally, asking the receptionist something else, and when she got a nod in response, she opened the box.

Inside that shipping box were the rings that she and Gerard had picked. She’d gotten them shipped straight to this chapel - after she’d phoned ahead to get permission, of course. She checked each ring before pocketing them and the paperwork inside the box. The receptionist took the shipping box from Shelly, as she said she would (which is what Shelly had asked just now) and Shelly thanked her before returning to the band.

“We’ve got a short wait time,” she said, sitting next to Lux.

Frank’s eyes had been drawn to her legs, or what there was of them on show, from the moment he’d seen that she was on her way back, and he kept his eyes on her legs as she sat down and crossed one over the other. That definitely showed off more. He peered closer, because it didn’t look like she was wearing tights or anything.

“Miss Shelly.”

Shelly glanced around Lux to look at Frank. “Mm?”

“You ARE wearing something under that coat, aren’t you?”

Lux smirked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would!”

“Well, I know what she’s wearing!” Lux stuck her tongue out at him.

“Children,” Ray shook his head.

“I should hope that I’m wearing something under this,” Shelly addressed Frank. “Considering the fact that I’m planning on taking the coat off in a minute or two.”

Frank hummed at Shelly before side-eyeing Lux, who just grinned innocently at him.

The group sat quietly for a little bit longer - not too much longer though, before they were called in. Shelly stood up and took a few steps over to Gerard, who had stood up as soon as she did.

“Hey,” she said softly, pretending to straighten his tie. “Are you sure about this?”

Gerard nodded, just once, but it was such a… Strong and firm nod.

“Yeah,” he whispered to her. “Yeah, I am. Because it’s you.”

Shelly glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow.

He swallowed under that… Almost questioning look of hers. “I mean, um, anything to help you. Because you do anything and everything for us, or to help us.”

Shelly smiled up at him, though she seemed… Amused. Gerard privately congratulated himself a little bit - that had been a relatively decent save?

“Okay then,” she said softly, pulling the ring boxes out of the coat pockets. “Take these for me?”

Gerard took them and put them in the pocket of his suit blazer.

Shelly turned to the others. “Mr. Toro, sir?”

Ray grinned at her. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Would you be so kind as to help a little lady with her coat?”

“Of course!” Ray just beamed, taking a step forward to help her out of the jacket.

As this was happening, Lux kept her eyes on Gerard, eager to see his reaction to the dress that Shelly was wearing. Black, shortish, kinda tight, lacey details… All things that Gerard would like - especially the lace bits.

And she was not disappointed - the singer definitely did a double take. He definitely gave her a proper look over at least twice. Both times with very wide eyes. The second time caused a blush to appear on his face as he swallowed.

‘Yeah,’ Lux thought. ‘He likes that; the dress, the way it looks on her, her in general. Of course he does, she looks like a fox; she looks incredible. And it’s pretty awesome to see him so speechless!’

Frank, being Frank, wolf-whistled at their tiny manager. “God damn. We should get you married more often if you’re gonna dress like that!”

“Frank!” Lux scolded. “You don’t talk about a man’s almost wife that way!”

“At least not in front of him,” Mikey added with a grin.

Shelly just rolled her eyes at them before turning her attention back to Gerard, who went very very pink when he realised that she had just caught him staring at her. He blinked rapidly, and was about to apologise when she smiled at him.

“Ready?” She asked gently. “You can still back out?”

“Nuh uh,” he muttered. “Not gonna, very ready.”

Lux grinned at the others at his reaction, who all grinned back. All while trying not to laugh at the look on Gerard’s face. At least, that’s what Frank was doing anyway - trying not to laugh at the vocalist.

Shelly hummed a little as she took in the look on Gerard’s face for a few more seconds.

“Oh! Wait a second!” Gerard moved back to where they had been sitting and returned to Shelly with a small bunch of red roses.

“On the way here, he realised that you two hadn’t discussed flowers,” Ray said.

“They’re probably not gonna last too long,” Gerard said softly. “And maybe they’re the wrong colour but -”

Shelly leant up and kissed his cheek before stepping back and quickly checking her face in her phone that she’d rescued from the coat pocket.

“I’d forgotten about flowers actually,” she confessed to him. “They’re kinda perfect Gerard. I really match the album aesthetic now.”

This made him chuckle. She smiled at this, handed Frank her phone so he could get photos and then took the flowers from Gerard.

“Sure?” She asked one more time.

“Yes.”

Shelly nodded and then led everyone into the room.

Gerard was actually kinda relieved to see that she hadn’t picked a Wedding Elvis. That might’ve been a step too far for either of them, to be honest. He knew that she thought Vegas weddings were… Strange would be the kindest way to word it. And not in a good way. When they had been talking about rings, she had said that she had wanted to make this whole thing as… Well, as normal as possible. Ish. Not extravagant, not tacky, just… Normal. He’d agreed, really. Just because it was a means to an end, didn’t mean that it couldn’t be… Nice. And she’d agreed with that.

The whole thing didn’t really take that long. Neither Shelly nor Gerard had written their own vows - what was the point, really? Besides, that kinda thing took time - more than the handful of days they’d had. (That’s not to say that neither of them might’ve mentally tried over the last few days - Gerard certainly had penned a few lines in his own brain.) Despite the fact that the whole ceremony didn’t take that long, Gerard kept his eyes on her the whole time.

When the officiant eventually got to the “you may kiss the bride” part of the vows, Shelly looked equal parts embarrassed and shy. To avoid looking at Gerard for a moment, she glanced down at their hands - because they were still holding hands from earlier.

Gerard had reached for her hands as soon as they’d turned to face each other in front of the preacher. She hadn’t minded at all, to be honest. They had then only stopped holding hands to exchange rings.

Except now, Gerard’s thumb was rubbing small circles into her skin and that was kinda soothing, actually. She wasn’t aware of the fact that he was doing it absent-mindedly.

It took Gerard a moment - if only because he was too busy admiring how pretty she was when she blushed - before he gently cleared his throat and let one of her hands go. He noticed her eyes widen a little when he did this, but he used his now free hand to gently lift her chin. She blinked rapidly at him so he smiled reassuringly in return, waiting until she smiled back before he leant forward to plant a small, soft - almost chaste - kiss on her lips.

When he kissed her, he both heard and felt Shelly make a little “mm” noise - and if this had been an anime or something, he knew that there would’ve been a little heart floating up from between them at that. If this was a manga, he knew she would be the type of character who spoke with heart emojis - that noise would’ve been written out like “mm <3” and it was adorable. He could hear that kinda thing in her voice when she spoke sometimes.

He didn’t know if the others could hear it on a regular, day to day basis. Normally he hoped that they could. But today? He hoped not. He hoped that bit was just for him.

From the moment the two had stepped up in front of the officiant, and the others had taken their seats, Lux had been a little bit misty eyed. The whole band knew how Gerard felt about Shelly - it definitely wasn’t a secret anymore. But not everyone was entirely sure how Shelly felt about Gerard - she tried so very hard to remain professional, but, because she was (remarkably and surprisingly) only human, sometimes her professional standards slipped and they’d catch her looking at Gerard a little too long, or Lux would hear her sigh a little too dreamily.

In addition to that, Lux and Shelly did talk a bit more around the topic than Shelly did with the other guys, and Lux did pick up on things here and there. Sometimes she would go on to discuss some of Shelly’s actions, or something that the blonde had said, with the others, but most of the time she didn’t - most of the time she would keep that information tucked away in her own mental vaults.

She got a little extra misty eyed when Shelly and Gerard exchanged rings and she sniffled when Gerard kissed Shelly. Mikey tried not to grin too much to himself at Lux’s reactions - it was cute! And he gently patted her knee, because of course he’d snagged the seat beside her.

Until he’d been a little distracted by Lux’s sniff, Mikey had been watching his brother. Gerard had been looking at Shelly so… So softly, that Mikey could practically see the hearts in Gerard’s eyes. Then again, to be fair, Shelly was looking at Gerard just as softly. She’d pretty much had a permanent light blush on her face for the entire time they were standing up there, and it had deepened in colour when they’d exchanged rings, and then even more when they had to kiss.

Frank had been busy taking photos with Shelly’s phone, like she’d asked, but had also ended up passing a slightly emotional Ray a tissue with a grin before leaning to talk into Ray’s ear: “are you sure you’re not the band mom here?”

Ray rolled his eyes at Frank before elbowing him gently.

If you had asked the rest of the band, away from Shelly and Gerard, they all would have agreed that the whole thing - the whole ceremony - was kinda adorable; mostly because of the way they looked at each other, and the fact that it was happening in the first place. But they would all also say that it was a little bit… Sad, really. Because Shelly and Gerard were clearly just so into each other, and they would just be so good together, and good for each other. They would look after each other and treat each other right - like they both deserved. They would love the other right, in the right ways, and bring out the best in the other.

That and Lux still thought that Gerard and Shelly would have the cutest babies.

Gerard kissed the bride, the officiant pronounced them husband and wife and Frank took a few more photos before Shelly and Gerard stepped aside to sign the paperwork. Before they left the room, Gerard managed to press a kiss to her forehead (and yes, Frank managed to get a photo of that too), and the group left the room. Shelly gestured for them to wait aside for a few moments while she hurried back over to the receptionist with the paperwork; she wanted to make sure all the things she needed - like the expedited options - were all paid for and all of that as well.

“Alright! Where’s the reception?” Lux said with a small grin, oblivious to the fact that her make-up was a bit smeared and her eyes were pink-rimmed.

Frank laughed. “I don’t know, where’s the nearest bar?”

“Is it too early to drink?” Ray asked, moving Shelly’s coat so he could check his watch.

“We still have a show tonight though guys,” Gerard said quietly, not taking his eyes off of the blonde.

“Oh! Well, then we’ll use the green room!” Lux nodded.

“Just, make sure that you can play your instruments properly, please?” Shelly said, as she returned to them while they were mid conversation. She tried to take her coat from Ray, only to have him help her into it instead. She giggled. “Thank you, kind sir. But seriously guys, people paid for their tickets for the show tonight, don’t let them down and don’t let me down, please?”

“We won’t,” they chorused.

Frank grinned slyly. “I suppose that you two will want some alone time now, huh? Don’t wear him out Shell, you said it yourself, we have a gig tonight!”

Shelly spluttered as Gerard went very pink.

“Frank!” Lux and Mikey scolded in unison before they glanced at each other.

Ray shook his head at Frank but sort of grinned at the other two before clearing his throat. “Now now children. May I suggest that we head back to the hotel for a bit so we can make sure that we’ve gone over the setlist properly? And so Miss Lux can change - I don’t think she’s going to want to drum in a dress.”

Lux nodded. “Oh absolutely! They get enough of a show!”

Frank looked at Ray as he spoke, and by the time the other guitarist had finished speaking, had sensed the opportunity for mischief - he even had a plan coming to mind.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Frank said. “Gerard, you can hang out with your wife for a bit while we go and do that.”

“I might need to change too -” Shelly started.

“Psh, it’s Vegas,” Frank waved it off, gathering the others. “You look fucking stunning and will fit right in.”

“I can’t really do my job in this dress -”

“You can’t really run either!” Frank added with a grin before quickly ushering the others away.

Shelly watched them leave with a frown on her face, Gerard standing close by her side.

“Do you ever get the feeling that they’re up to something?” He asked her quietly.

“Oh god. I get that feeling all the time when Frank’s involved.”

Gerard laughed and then caught her looking at him. “Um. Is everything done here?”

Shelly nodded. “Do you want to ignore them and just go back to the rooms, or… Do you want to get a coffee or something?”

“Er,” Gerard hesitated, looking at her to see if he could figure out what she would want. “I… What do you want to do? Because I don’t mind.”

“Oh Gerard,” she sighed softly. “I don’t mind either.”

“Maybe we could go and get a coffee then?” Gerard suggested, nervously. “I know it might fuel into whatever the others might say or think but -”

“They’re gonna make jokes anyway I think,” Shelly said with a nod. “I don’t think there’s anything we could pick that would get us the least amount of jokes and possible teasing.”

“Mm, I think you’re right.”

She giggled. “Well, this is a good start.”

“Hmn?” He tilted his head as she giggled.

“I mean, a good start to, ah um, married life? With you agreeing with me?”

“Oh!” He smiled. “Ah, well, happy wife, happy life, right? And you’re right most of the time so…”

Shelly leant up to kiss his cheek again. “So well trained already.”

Gerard had to bite his lip at that comment, because his brain did not keep that PG in the slightest. Then again, he was pretty guilty of doing that almost all the time when it came to Shelly and it was normally because of the language she chose to use. Not that she used vulgar language! Not at all. It was just the way she worded things sometimes. He just had a filthy mind when she was involved. He couldn’t help it. He wished he could, but every time he thought he was doing okay, she would go ahead and say something like that and… Nope. Time to flip the incident chart back to ‘0 days since…’

“Well,” he managed to get out eventually. “I try, you know?”

“I think you do well.”

That made him smile. She always made him smile. He offered her his arm, which, after a moment’s hesitation, she took.

“Let’s go and get a coffee, and delay having to go back and deal with the others -”

“Mostly Frank,” Shelly said with a nod.

“Mostly Frank, and the teasing and whatnot.”

Shelly giggled. “Sure thing. I think there’s a cafe just down the road.”

“Okay, let’s go there then.”

Of course Gerard opted to go and get a coffee with Shelly - now legally his wife. God. He needed to not think about it that way. Or at least, he needed to not think about it like that often, because it wasn’t real. It was just so they didn’t lose her.

But of course he was going to opt for that option instead of heading back to the rooms. Why would he pass up the chance to spend some more time with the woman he had feelings for? More to the point, why would he pass up the opportunity to spend more alone, one on one time with her?

Thankfully, she didn’t seem to have a problem with this. Gerard thought that actually, she seemed… Pleased? Maybe he was projecting, maybe he was being overly hopeful and reading too much into it. Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe she was happy that they could spend a little alone time together. He wasn’t entirely sure and he really wished that he had more confidence with reading her. Then again, on the other hand, he didn’t think that he’d ever done anything that might’ve upset or insulted her, and he did know that because she was pretty good at telling them if something they did or said had hurt her or something.

So, he hoped he could continue that because he really did care about her, and he really didn’t want to hurt her at all, even accidentally. And he didn’t feel this way just because she was now his wife, nor was it because he had major romantic feelings for her. He didn’t want to hurt her because she was a good person, and because she was so good to and for the band.

~#~

While Shelly and Gerard went on their little coffee… Date? The rest of the band made their way back to their hotel rooms. Lux headed to the room she would be sharing with Shelly in order to change into what she would wear to the show later. The guys went back to one of their two rooms, just to hang out and wait.

They weren’t in there for very long before Frank had a visible lightbulb moment and dragged the other two to outside Lux’s door, without saying a word.

“Are you decent yet?” He called through the door.

There was a small ‘thud’ from the other side of the door, and not too long later the door opened. Lux stood in the doorway, dressed and ready for their show.

“Yeah,” she said. “What’s up?”

“I have a plan!” Frank said. “For mischief! And, it might even knock Gerard and Shelly’s heads together.”

Ray winced at the use of “mischief” but Mikey perked up at the last part of Frank's sentence.

“Okay…” Lux narrowed her eyes a little bit, leaning against the doorframe. “And?”

Frank grinned for a moment before looking as innocent as he could manage (which wasn’t very, this was Frank after all). “I think the newlyweds should share a room tonight.”

Ray’s eyes widened a little as he put it together quickly. “Are you saying that we should do some room swapping?”

The shorter guitarist nodded with a bigger grin. “Yes! But we’ll have to force them into staying together, as they’re not going to do it willingly after the fact, you know? Plus, maybe if they’re ‘trapped’ together overnight, one of them might give in and say something about how they feel.”

“I’ll start packing,” Lux nodded, letting the guys into the hotel room.

It was only when the guys were let into the room that the source of the thud from earlier was revealed. It turned out that the source of the noise had been Lux’s suitcase falling off of the bed. The only bed in the room. (But if the guys had thought about it for a few moments, they would’ve realised that duh, of course this room would’ve had one bed - their rooms had one bed too.) Frank really had to bite his tongue to stop himself from making a comment about Shelly and Lux sharing a bed.

“It’s better to do the room switching as we’re doing now, because even if they do come back before the show, Gerard’s less likely to need to get into his room to change or whatever, we can persuade him to come and hang out in another room. Shelly is likely to want to change her clothes.” Frank explained to the rest of his bandmates.

“She might want to cover up a bit more,” Lux said with a nod as she continued putting stuff back in her case.

“And then,” Frank continued. “Just find a way for them to be back from the show after us.”

“Why do we need to do that?” Ray asked.

“‘Cause then they won’t be able to make us swap rooms with them,” Lux said.

Frank nodded. “We can all pretend to be asleep or we can just not answer the door.”

Mikey gave Ray a key and Ray went to acquire all of Gerard’s stuff.

“Mikes, did Gerard take his room key?” Frank asked.

“Pffft, of course not.”

Frank laughed. “Okay, good. Give that one to Lux -”

Mikey crossed the room a bit to hand the key to the drummer.

“We’ll take hers when we head to the venue, or when we meet up with the other two later and we can hand that one to Gerard, to pretend that it’s his. Shelly will say goodnight and head into the room she expects and he’ll probably end up trying it in each door until one works when we’re done with the show.”

“He does forget room locations sometimes,” Mikey said with a nod. “Especially when he’s distracted. Which he will be after today.”

“Oh, big time!” Lux agreed with a grin, trying not to think about the fact that she had a key to Mikey’s room in her pocket now.

Frank exhaled softly. “Oh boy, yeah. I mean, I didn’t know that she had it in her to dress like that. Jesus.”

“Dude!” Mikey grinned slightly, though he was pretending to be cross. “That’s my sister in law you’re eyeing up.”

“Yeah!” Lux pointed at Frank, wagging her finger. “And if you make it weird, it’ll never happen again!”

“You mean,” Frank watched Lux go back to folding a pair of PJ pants. “She won’t dress like a fox again?”

“Something like that,” Lux nodded. “If you make it too weird, it’ll make her uncomfortable and she’ll stop.”

He grinned. “I don’t know, she doesn’t tell me off for complimenting her, she just blushes.” He paused for a moment before smiling gently. “She needs building up, she’s a babe. Even J thinks she’s hot!”

“I mean, yeah of course you should tell her that she looks nice, but just… Don’t get weird with it! Why do you think I dress like this?” Lux explained, gesturing to her jeans and t-shirt.

Mikey grinned slightly. “Frank doesn’t know how to not be weird. Being weird is his default setting.”

Frank snorted and was about to berate either one or both of them before he seemed to have an “oh!” lightbulb moment. He turned to the pair. “You two don’t have a problem with sharing a room, do you?”

Mikey blinked rapidly for a moment before shaking his head. “No, of course not. Especially not if it gets them to finally sort themselves out.”

Though privately he was thinking; duh, of course not! I didn’t step up to volunteer to help Shelly because, not only could I not do that to my brother - even if it was just to keep her in the country, but I couldn’t do that to Lux - because it’s her I’m interested in!)

“Nah, I’m cool with it. It’s fine!” Lux said with a shake of her head, although she was attempting to distract herself a bit with a pair of socks.

“Good, good!” Frank grinned and went to open the door after there was a knock on it.

Ray returned with Gerard’s bag, which he put on the floor, sort of in the middle - kinda obvious but not in the way. He then went to sit down.

“So the plan is,” Frank continued, after closing the door. ”After the show, we all need to get back before them, and if anyone knocks on the door, ignore it so they’re forced together.”

“Pretend that we don’t exist,” Mikey said with a nod.

“Although,” Ray piped up. “I do think that if they text or call, we should at least provide them with enough information so that Shelly doesn’t panic because she thinks we’re missing.”

“Oh! Of course! That’s actually really important ‘cause she will worry,” Frank said.

“Let me just grab my stuff from the bathroom,” Lux announced. “Then I’ve got everything.”

While she does that Frank kinda just stares at her bag for a moment before his gaze drifts to Gerard’s bag.

“Someone remind me to sneak condoms into his jacket later,” he said suddenly as Lux returned from the little bathroom. “Unless you think Shell has some, Lux?”

Mikey and Ray pulled almost the exact same face.

“Uhhhh,” Lux said, the question taking her by surprise for a moment. “I doubt that she has, but she normally has a bit of everything, so it’s possible?”

Frank nodded and grinned. “Actually, you’re right. She very well might do. We were having a discussion about their multiple uses once. Ditto with lube.”

“I’m all set to move rooms now!” Lux said a little bit louder than normal, hoping to just shut Frank up for a moment.

Mikey, ever the gentleman, but especially so when it came to Lux, went to grab her case for her. And also because he too wanted to get away from Frank and his insinuations.

Ray let out the biggest, deepest sigh. “I am so done with you.”

Frank just laughed and followed the others into what would now be Lux and Mikey’s room, making sure Shelly’s room was locked behind them.

“Shall we actually go over the setlist and that now like we said we were going to?”

~#~

Gerard and Shelly managed to grab themselves something to drink (coffee for Gerard, hot chocolate for Shelly), but the little cafe had been oddly busy, so they’d asked for their drinks ‘to go’ before taking a slow walk together to find somewhere outside for them to be able to sit down. Once they’d found a little bench, they sat close together (which wasn’t totally unusual - Shelly did like to stick close to any of them whenever she sat with them) and sat in a comfortable quiet for a little bit. After a few minutes, Gerard sipped his coffee and cleared his throat.

“Um,” he said softly. “You look really, really good.”

Shelly had looked up from her drink as soon as he had started to speak. By the time he finished, she was a little bit pink. “T- thank you.”

Gerard could feel his own cheeks starting to get warm. He swallowed and focused on his drink way too hard. “I mean, you always dress well, but that dress is especially -”

She shifted a bit closer and leant up to kiss his cheek. This little action made the rest of his sentence die in his throat.

“Oh,” he whispered, going even pinker.

“You scrub up well too, you know,” Shelly went back to her drink, although Gerard swore that she was sitting that little bit closer now. “I do really like this suit on you.”

Gerard shifted in his spot, subconsciously moving closer to her too. “I… I know you do. It’s why I picked this one.”

Shelly blinked rapidly as she looked up at him. She tilted her head in question.

Her silence made him look at her, and he smiled. “I pay attention.”

“I… Hmm…” She sipped her hot chocolate. “I know you do, but…”

Gerard waited for a moment, but when it looked like she wasn’t going to continue, he gently knocked his knee against hers.

“You look good in my coat,” he said.

“I think you got a decent deal, actually,” Shelly giggled a little. “It’s a nice coat. I mean, I know it might not be typically masculine but I think you can pull it off quite well.”

Her giggle made him smile, though internally he was thinking about pulling the coat off of her. She must not have been expecting a reply to that because they sat quietly for a little bit longer. Until she let out a soft sigh.

Gerard looked at her, feeling a bit concerned. “Shell? You okay?”

“Mm,” she leant her head against his arm. “I just wanted to say, again, thank you for doing this for me.”

He automatically wrapped his arm around her as soon as she settled against his arm, and he pulled her against him that little bit more before he rested his cheek on the top of her head. He wasn’t sure, but he thought that she nestled closer.

“That’s okay,” he said quietly. “I mean, it’s this or lose you, right?”

Shelly nodded. “If you strip it down to the bare bones of it all, yeah, I guess.”

Gerard hummed - he really wished that she’d used different words there.

“We can’t have that,” he said softly. “You’re so good for us as a band. We’d miss you. No one else can match up to you now.”

She glanced up at him to see him focused on his drink. His arm was still wrapped tightly around her and for a moment she wondered if they should really be sitting together cuddled up like this. In case someone took a photo of them or something. Then again, the rest of the band would jump to their/her defence and say that she was just that affectionate (which was true).

“I don’t know about that,” she said.

“I do,” Gerard squeezed her against him a bit, part of his brain almost wriggling at his word choice. “I don’t think that anyone else would work even half as hard as you do. You really do more than the job description says you should.”

Shelly hummed a bit. “I do it because I want you guys to have the best. I think you deserve it, and I think that if you guys are going to do your best, then I need to work harder to make sure you get the best.”

“We already have the best,” Gerard almost murmured into her hair. “We have you.”

“Shushhhh,” Shelly grumbled into his arm, clearly a little embarrassed. “Stop it.”

Gerard chuckled and gently kissed the top of her head. “Never.”

The pair hung out together for a little longer, finishing their drinks and chatting quietly until Shelly checked the time and suggested that maybe they should head back to the hotel so she could change. Gerard agreed, of course he did, but he was a little bit disappointed by the idea of her changing her clothes.

He thought that she looked so good in that dress, and in his coat, it seemed a shame that she wasn’t going to show herself off a little bit more. On the other hand, he kinda didn’t want the world to see her looking so good. And, privately, he really wanted to pull the coat off of her, strip her of her dress to get her naked - or at the minimum, he wanted to push the dress up so he could get between her thighs. Whichever. He’d be happy with either of those.

Then again, he really, really wanted all of this to be real.

They headed back to the hotel together, walking pretty close to each other. Before they split up to go to different rooms, Shelly squeezed his arm and leant up to kiss his cheek before quickly making her way to her room to change. She had done this so quickly that he barely had time to react to it - he only really had enough time and mental capacity to realise that it had happened.

She disappeared into her room and Gerard went to join the others. He settled in a chair while the others discussed… He wasn’t even really sure what they were talking about, because he had zoned out a little bit. He got lost in his head and he spent a long time looking at, and fiddling with, the ring on his finger.

He did, for a moment or two, think that maybe he should take it off, in case someone at the gig - one of the professional photographers or someone - catches sight of it. In case someone gets a photo of him with it on. He really should take it off. Being caught with it on, might cause more problems - for him, for the band, for Shelly. It might make way more work for her, and he really didn’t want that. He never wanted to make things harder for her, to give her more work that she didn’t need.

Gerard examined the wedding band on his finger, without taking it off, for a few minutes and he seriously thought about taking it off and putting it in his pocket.

“Hey, Gerard, you wanna give us your input here?”

The use of his name jolted him out of his head and drew his attention to the rest of his band and away from the one on his finger.

Shelly, meanwhile, looked herself over in the mirror in her room. She’d taken Gerard’s coat off and put it on the end of the bed, so she was standing in the dress and heels that she’d just gotten married in. She kinda… Didn’t want to change out of this dress. She did actually really like it - she felt good in it. She felt kinda sexy, actually. So she felt good in it, she thought that it looked good - hell, the reactions from her band had shown her that yeah, she did look good. That, and she had caught the way that Gerard had looked at her - both when she first took his coat off before they went in to get married, and after they came out and she had to head back over to the desk to double check everything. She knew that he’d been watching her and she had caught the way that he’d been looking at her. She also had seen the way he’d blushed when they’d been getting coffee, when he’d told her that she’d looked good.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at herself via a few angles before letting out a soft sigh and sitting on the edge of the bed that was not too far behind her. As usual, her feet didn’t really touch the ground, because she was short, and not even these heels helped her with that. She stared at her slowly swinging feet for a moment, until she had to brush some lint off of her dress. Doing that drew her eyes to the ring on her finger.

It really was a simple, but pretty thing. She was kinda glad that Gerard had been a little more insistent.

“Just because it’s not forever doesn’t mean it can’t be pretty. You’re allowed to pick something you like, Shell.”

She was glad that she’d listened to him, actually. Because, while this wasn’t the ring she would’ve picked had she been doing this “getting married” thing for real, it wasn’t too bad either. It was, as she said, pretty. It was prettier in its simplicity too, actually. At least, it was in her opinion. And Gerard’s matching one was nice. She was a bit worried that it could be seen as a little girly, but Gerard had said that he didn’t mind, that he didn’t think so. She just had to take his word for it, and for some reason she found that quite easy to do.

Shelly slowly twisted the ring around her finger a few times. She should take it off, really. But, much like the fact that she should change out of her dress - she didn’t want to do that either. Maybe she could say that she was keeping it on to stop people hitting on her? That might work - in both aspects; in the little lie and in the actual action. Men were notorious for not taking a “no” from a woman unless another man (like a husband) was involved. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. It wasn’t to do with the fact that she wanted to pretend that this was real. Not at all.

After sitting and looking at the ring for a few minutes, Shelly moved to her feet and went to look through her bags. She managed to find a much flatter pair of shoes, which was nice for her because she initially thought that she had left those on the bus. She didn’t really want to walk around backstage in heels after all - the few times she’d had to do that before, she felt like she had slowed down. So flats for backstage it was. Once she’d changed her shoes she rummaged through her bag again and came across one of her favourite cardigans, pastel in shade, of course. But the cardigan did give her an idea.

“Fuck it,” she muttered.

She stood in front of the mirror in her flatter shoes, and put her cardigan on over her dress, fastening the buttons from the bottom up, and stopping just in the middle of her bust. That wasn’t uncommon behaviour for her, honestly. She didn’t normally leave her cardigans undone, and she only ever fastened more buttons if there was someone around who made her feel uncomfortable.

Once she was happy with the buttons, she carefully pulled the sleeves of her cardigan up to her elbows, in a well practised, neat and even matter. It almost looked like the cardigan was designed to be like that, after she was done with it. That was a trick Andi had taught her one summer, and Shelly was pretty much a pro at that now.

She quickly twisted her hair up into a decent enough bun, and blended out her eye make-up so she looked softer before checking herself over again. She actually… Almost looked work appropriate. To be honest, to those who didn’t know what the rest of her dress looked like, she probably looked fully work appropriate. Really, all she needed was a pair of her stockings, or tights or something but to be honest, she didn’t really feel like going through the effort of dealing with that. She’d just go one day without them. She’d be fine.

Shelly examined her reflection one more time. She was kinda impressed actually. She… She thought that she could probably get away with how she was dressed. Yeah. She could. The band would come to her defence if anyone said anything. They were all good like that. She grabbed a small cross body bag, threw a few things in it and grabbed Gerard’s coat before she headed to the room that she’d seen him head into to hang out with the others.

She knocked on the door and a few moments passed before Ray let her in with a small smile.

“I thought you wanted to change?” Frank said as the door closed behind her.

Ray returned to his seat as Shelly hung Gerard’s coat up on the hook on the back of the door.

“I did change!” She said, turning to face them. “I changed my mind about changing my clothes.”

Frank laughed and Gerard tried to hide a smile - (not so) secretly thrilled about this turn of events.

“No, I changed my shoes, hair and my make-up,” she shrugged a little before folding her arms. “I’m sure I can get away with doing my job like this.”

“You look gentler,” Mikey said, from his spot sitting next to Lux.

“Yeah,” Ray nodded. “You looked more… Fierce? Before.”

“You still look hot though.”

Shelly giggled, going a light shade of pink, before she blew their drummer a kiss. “Shushhhh Miss Lux, I’m technically a married woman.”

Gerard glanced up at this, looking between Lux and Shelly until Frank started speaking.

“I’m sure,” Frank grinned at both the women. “I’m sure an exception could be made here?”

Before Shelly had the chance to say anything, Lux had snorted slightly.

“Frank,” she said, shaking her head before smirking at him. “If anything ever happened, you would never ever know about it.”

Frank looked from Lux to Shelly, who just nodded once, confirming Lux’s words, and he pouted. “That’s… That’s most unfair.”

“Well, she’s right,” Shelly moved across the room to sit in one of the few empty seating spots - right next to Gerard. “I don’t kiss and tell, Frankie.”

He blinked for a moment before an idea hit him and when he spoke, he sounded hopeful. “How about kissing and showing?”

“No Frank,” both women said together.

Frank pouted more, Shelly laughed and Gerard just cleared his throat. That noise made Shelly glance over to him. It must’ve been a bit louder than he thought, because the rest of the band looked at him too.

“Excuse you,” he said gently, although there was a tiny, slight bit of a tone to his voice. “That’s my wife.”

Shelly hoped that she hadn’t gone too pink. Or that the others hadn’t noticed that she was actually blushing - she knew she was - because… Oh. Hearing him say that, with that edge of a protective tone in his voice? Damn. That was actually hot.

“Yeah she is!” Lux grinned.

Frank pouted again. “You sure you don’t want to share?”

Gerard just raised an eyebrow at Frank, which made Shelly giggle before she decided to play into it. She moved closer to Gerard and almost snuggled against him a bit. It did take Gerard by surprise, but it didn’t take him too long to wrap his arm around her waist.

“No,” he said. “I don’t want to share.”

“Me neither,” Shelly said with a nod. “I’m a Leo, Frankie, I’m a very loyal woman.”

Lux and Mikey glanced at each other and grinned.

“One day Shell,” Frank smiled at her. “One day.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with her if she did take you up on the offer!” Lux said.

“And you would?”

"Oh, I can think of a few things!" Lux shrugged and grinned. “I’d certainly give it a go - I’m a fast learner!”

Frank looked shocked, actually. Mikey shook his head, Gerard snorted at the same time Shelly giggled and Ray just rolled his eyes a little bit.

Shelly waved it off before Frank could say anything else. “Did you guys finalise the setlist, or the order or the tracks for tonight?”

#She Speaks #She Writes #my fanfic #MCR fanfic #Gerard Way x OFC #IYMM

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thegeminisage · 7 months

Text

ok tng update time. yesterday i did "haven" and just now i finished "the big goodbye."

haven: not like GOOD but definitely watchable! i think this was one largely saved from going in my garbage heap pile because nurse chapel played deanna's mom. like, if it hadn't been nurse chapel she would have been the MOST irritating annoying character but instead i was just like awww its majel barrett look at her being all quirky good for her. being ever so slightly faceblind it took me a minute to recognize her, since i just recognized her by her voice. it was also this episode or maybe the next one that i realized she was doing the computer - she uses such a different tone in tng and i hadn't been expecting to hear her voice, but the computer was starting to sound awfully familiar so i looked it up and wow sure enough. GOOD for her.

also, deanna having a truly horrible, wretched, AWFUL mother also endeared me to her more than words can say. i was JUST thinking that even though people say data is the knockoff spock it's not true - data is the inverse of spock, and DEANNA is the knockoff. like this was very much like oh she's half alien half human, it's time for her weird little alien marriage like amok time, it's time to meet her alien family like in journey of babel, etc etc, this episode could have been an email and she could have been a vulcan, etc etc etc. then she stormed out of the room and knocked that little gong thing over and i think i fell in love with her on the spot. im not sure if i wanna marry her or be her but i am now a deanna enjoyer.

my main gripes with the episode were 1. they never really explained how her intended husband and that blonde chick met...am i really supposed to believe lwaxana's bs about the current of life connecting them? and then also him saying goodbye to his parents was like...anyway bye mom and dad! not remotely believable. i didn't really care about him but it was wack.

and 2. deanna and will had an argument but then never got to reconcile at the end...this is the first time i was actually interested in their romance and then they barely got to speak two words to each other. i know tng episodes are 5min shorter than tos episodes, but this is like the 4th time i've thought they needed a bit more time at the end for that debrief scene they always had in tos...can they truly not pace this better. come on

the big goodbye: unwatchable in EVERY way. this episode was so fucking bad. dr crusher trying to make herself look Hot Like Women Do and getting mad when picard invited People Who Were Not Her to the holodeck. the data being from south america joke that is only a little better than kirk calling spock chinese in the city on the edge of forever. the fake stakes. picard walking around with lipstick on his mouth. treating data like a third wheel which should be punishable by law. the 1940s setting which is TIRED when you're not in the depths of whatever i was doing in 2014. COME ON

i will say though that i did love picard trying to learn the little insect language where the letters change their sound depending on what symbols are beside them. me trying to learn japanese on duolingo fr. also i did laugh one time when dr crusher swallowed the gum. her actress really sold that one. great job.

also, what was UP with the characters in the holodeck having their own existential crisis about not being real??? that plus any potential malfunction making the holodeck capable of killing people leads me to believe it should not be on this ship. like if i thought the fake holodeck characters were sentient enough to wonder if they were sentient and doomed to cease existing once i took my eyes off of them i would firstly never enter the holodeck again but secondly call a priest to disassemble it

anyway, tonight we are doing "datalore." can't wait for more data lore and also to meet his evil twin or whatever that's about

#personal #star trek blogging #tng lb

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a-wayfairing-stranger · 1 year

Note

"You look adorable when you smile" for someone of your choice

Thank you CJ <3 I hope this isn't too rambling for you <3

“The first dance belongs to the bride and groom.”

The band played, and as Richard offered Alex’s hand, she noticed the trembling in his fingers, she took it, clasping her fingers around his and smiling as he led her into the center of the dance floor.

They looked like a fairy tale, the handsome war hero and his dazzling new bride, only that they had actually been married for almost seven years, the first wedding had been done in the middle of a battle scarred field, a handful of friends and a dozen strangers, Harris translating the Spanish Priests words, a dress that was handmade, dancing to Hagman’s fiddle after, drinking stolen french wine.

But now, with the war over, Alex’s parents had been set on giving them a ‘proper’ wedding in the grounds of the Baker house, under the sun, a rare British summer's day, now here they were under white canvas of a large tent, Richard looked as if he was about to be executed by firing squad.

“It's a waltz, Mon petit gâteau..no need to look so nervous.”

They began to dance, she led, Richard for all his talents had two left feet

“If I cock this up the facade of me being a gentleman will crumble..” He muttered

“That comes later, when you’ve drunk too much and tell Robert to shut his mouth.” She smiled, they spun “And secretly, Papa will applaud you and place you top of the son-in-law list.”

“If my only competition is Robert, that shouldn’t be difficult.”

More people joined them, dancing, her Mother and Father were the first, then Harold and his wife Arabella, then finally, Robert and Charlotte.

“You're a war hero and Robert is a lout, It is hardly a competition at all.”

He chuckled and smiled, “I know what you really want to call him, love, and it isn’t a lout.”

“A bride shouldn’t be so vulgar on her wedding day.” She smirked “That should be saved for the wedding night.”

“I may not be up to date on fashion..but isn’t a white dress normally reserved for..”

“Someone pure?” She snorted, which earned a glare from her Mother as she and her Father swirled passed “Yes, and I know that my wearing a white dress when we have three children is a tad hypocritical..”

“A tad?” He raised his eyebrows

“But, Maddie was born after we were married and as far as anyone needs to know, we didn’t sleep together until we were man and wife.”

“Nobody can believe that.”

“We can pretend..”

They danced in silence for a few beats, enjoying the closeness that dancing allowed them, the look of dread had gone from Richard’s face, and now he was grinning, his eyes glistening like the golden medals pinned to his jacket.

“You look adorable when you smile..”

“Adorable?”

He seemed so offended by the compliment that he almost stepped on her foot.

“You’ve never called me that before..”

“Well its true, Happiness suits you.”

“Not nearly as well as it does you, my dear.”

The song stopped and Richard was forced to let her go, his hand dropping from her waist, he brought her gloved hand to his lips and kissed the back, a proper gentleman.

“Richard..”

At Robert’s voice, she saw his eyes change from affection aimed at her to annoyance.

“I say…for a rogue from the streets you do indeed clean up rather nicely.”

Richard’s nostrils flared and Alex cut in before fists started flying.

“Doesn’t he just?” She giggled “Bobbie, We were just talking about you..”

“Nothing bad I hope?”

“Oh never..” Alex shot a glance at Richard “We were just saying how we were sad we didn’t get to attend Lottie and yours wedding..you had Father Brown officiate that also, didn’t you?”

“Oh yes we did, we got married in the chapel, the weather was the total opposite of today, it was raining cats and dogs..”

As Robert continued to ramble, Alex saw Richard glance to the other side of the room.

“I think someone wants a word with me..”

Before she could protest he was gone, Robert continued on, something about one of his great-aunts having too much sherry and falling into the cake.

Alex thinks she preferred her first wedding.

#thanks for the ask <3 #OC: Alex Baker #rip to Robert i made you to be the boring brother in law i'm so sorry

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reekierevelator · 1 year

Text

THE CHRISTMAS CLICHÉ – It’s a Wonderful Life

We were temporary contract labourers on a building site, our Jaikets on a shoogly peg. Most days I would hear my pal Eddie Moore say Don’t let the bastards get you down, Money isn’t everything, We’re all Jock Tamson’s bairns, Life is a terminal illness, No rest for the wicked, Tomorrow is another day, and No point crying over spilt milk. Everything always Cost an arm and a leg. When Eddie talked football it was Got his retaliation in first in A game of two halves, and Thrashed them nil-nil, if indeed they were Lucky to get nil. Wonder about his age and he reminded you Sixty is the new forty. When the job was going well he was Cooking with gas, Gien it laldy. When the foreman criticised it was Just as well we’re all millionaires and only doing this for fun. And after the clocks turned back it was Christmas comes but once a year, and when it does it’s very dear.

We had wives and kids but never earned enough to give them the Christmas the advertisers insisted they deserved. Marry in haste, repent at leisure was the wives’ mantra, pointing to furniture or kitchen equipment always On its last legs.

In desperation some like Eddie took a wee interest in particular horses or the lottery and almost always Lost his shirt, ending up even worse off. Cream-crackered after a day on site some tried taking on second jobs and barely ever saw their families. Some abandoned hope and blew their wages on becoming fully refreshed and feeling no pain. But work is the curse of the drinking classes and they were back, under the weather, on Monday mornings, sometimes with cuts and bruises and muttering You should’ve seen the other guy. Some even went to chapel and tried praying for help with the sky-pilot.

On our wages most of us struggled to afford food, gas, leccy and rent. But we scrimped, saved, or borrowed to ‘give Christmas’ to our families. No use telling four year olds the game’s a bogey, there’s no presents but it’s the thought that counts.

So when the boss offered a sub, to be paid back over the coming year, we were keen. Surely the offer implied the job would last long enough to pay back the loan. Just sign a piece of paper and he’d press £150 cash in your hand. Eddie called it manna from heaven, a lifesaver, even as some worried if it looks too good to be true it probably is. And Eddie’s old eyes, though fully aware that it does what it says on the tin, failed him when it came to the fine print. But Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. The kids’ presents and family meals that year were Out of this world. We even donated to charity. Fairy lights twinkled, snowflakes fluttered down softly. It was a Winter wonderland and All’s well that ends well.

But it’s not over till the fat lady sings. We only found out about the 10% monthly interest charge when we saw it docked from our wage packets in January. Should have gone to Specsavers, Eddie ruefully admitted. We were All in the same boat and all shared That familiar sinking feeling.

Suddenly Eddie was shouting It’ll be all right on the night and I had somehow conceived the idea of taking the boss to court for illegal moneylending. The boss’s jowls were shaking with laughter as he spluttered If I had a penny for every time I’ve heard that one. But, bold and brave, I made him Laugh on the other side of his face. I was in court winning the case, getting our money back and, not only that, the legal expenses and guarantees of future job security as well. I looked out over sun-kissed Caribbean beaches from my yacht as we sailed round Mustique to our beautiful holiday villa. I could still hear Eddie exclaiming They think it’s all over – it is now as I eventually woke up. Ach, It was all a dream.

#christmas #cliches #employment

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holdmecloser-gandydancer · 3 years

Note

Lol loved your tags under the prompt list post

Um... how about #8 with taakitz and Lup?

sometimes i do like to think I'm funny!

#8 "How do you get accidentally married?" from this prompt list (still accepting!)

Sunlight streams through the blinds and manages to worm its way into Taako’s eyes. He grumbles and throws an arm over his face. Drop money on expensive blackout curtains and this is what he gets?

Wait a minute.

Taako runs his hand down his face and does his best to blink fatigue out of his eyes. Quickly, he realizes that this is not his bedroom. Though as he hears the familiar chirping of the smoke detector that desperately needs its batteries replaced, he deduces that this is his apartment. Which means –

��Jesus Christ, I am never drinking again,” a groggy voice says.

Bingo. Taako turns his head and finds himself face to face with his severely hungover and yet still unfairly handsome roommate. Taako grins grimly, a sentiment Kravitz mirrors weakly.

With some effort, Taako begins recollecting some of the events that led him to where he is. He and Kravitz went out to celebrate last night. They went out to celebrate –

“Holy shit, I passed my doctoral defense,” Taako mutters out. Spent five years getting that PhD and then immediately killed approximately half his brain cells. Great use of that brain, doc.

“Right, congrats again. I know I probably told you that yesterday but uh… well. You know”

There Kravitz goes, tiptoeing around that massive elephant in the room. Now, Taako isn’t opposed to this situation. No, in fact, he’s very much into this situation. But this isn’t exactly how he was imaging this scenario to ever pan out. Frankly, it’s probably best to be adults and have a Conversation™ about what this whole thing means for them. But Taako’s not really equipped for that at the moment. Avoidance is more is schtick.

“Uh, you hungry? Because I’m famished and I also –“

Taako’s phone vibrates violently on the bedside table. He reaches for it and immediately sits up. Seven missed calls from Lup and what seems like a million texts. Something tells him that these aren’t just congratulatory. A small ball of anxiety settles into his stomach.

The line rings for barely a second before he hears Lup’s voice on the other end.

“Uh hey, you fucking got married?”

Taako sputters out a terrible, sharp laugh. “I’m sorry?”

“I woke up about an hour ago, checked my phone, and saw a bunch of pics of you and your roomie captioned ‘Dr. and Mr. Taaco.’ Congrats on the defense, by the way.”

“Oh my god, that was probably just me showing my ass. You know me, I don’t exactly make the best choices when I drink.” And it's true. What probably happened was Taako talked Kravitz into conning some people into free drinks with a fake proposal. Oldest trick in the book.

Kravitz looks over at him, his expression a little murky. He scrolls on his phone for a minute before his eyes widen in astonishment. “Uh… Taako?”

“One sec, Krav.”

“Taako, listen, I know you’re kind of an idiot when you drink but I did also wake up to a video from you this morning. It was actually a little more illuminating than all the pictures. Care to guess what it was?”

“No, because I’m sure you’re just going to tell me what it is,” Taako says flatly.

“It was, in fact, you and Kravitz literally getting married!”

Taako pulls the phone away from his ear for a minute. He’s not at all equipped to be dealing with whatever the hell is going on. He’s about to say something snarky back to Lup when Kravitz taps him on the shoulder.

“Um. So I couldn't help but overhear and well…” Kravitz mumbles as he holds his phone out to Taako. He squints and takes a moment to determine what it is that he’s looking at.

Sure as shit, it’s a picture of him and Kravitz in some dubious-looking, neon-covered chapel. They’re both holding a corner of a piece of paper. Taako can’t quite decipher what it is but he doesn’t really need too many clues to determine that he has fucked up in a pretty big way.

His mouth goes a little dry when he has the vaguest recollection of plucking one of his rings off his finger, getting on one knee in a filthy bar, and taking Kravitz’s hand in his own.

Taako pinches the bridge of his nose. He just got comfortable around Kravitz after getting this new lease a few months ago and this is what happens? Handsome roommate or not, he’s gotta start thinking with his brain when he drinks.

“Lulu, would you believe that it was an accident?”

Kravitz snorts and wipes a hand down his face, stopping to look at Taako’s ring that found its way onto his finger. Taako almost swears he sees Kravitz smile.

“Taako. My very favorite person. Sharer of my genetic material. How do you become accidentally married?” Lup sounds like she has aged roughly one million years since the phone call began.

“Well, I guess what happens is you pass your defense, you do some shots, you get lonely and weepy, you ask your roommate to get married, and then you do?”

“Okay. Okay. Taako, I love you. You’re also a massive mess. You sound hungover so deal with that and I’ll start doing some research for you on how to deal with this whole thing, okay?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Talk to you later, love you!”

“Love you.”

“Say hi to your husband for me.”

“You are actively the worst!”

Taako doesn’t look at Kravitz for a while. Looks around his room instead. It’s tidy without being sterile. Comfortable. Homey.

The minute that thought crosses Taako’s mind, he shoves it away. Not really something to unpack right now.

“Gotta say, I never really imagined getting married before a first date,” Kravitz says, a smile pulling at his lips.

Taako snorts. “Guess cha’boy’s anything but traditional.”

“I feel bad, I didn’t even get you a ring.”

“You should, I have amazing taste,” he reaches over and grabs Kravitz’s hand, inspecting the particular ring he used. It’s one of his favorites, actually. A delicate gold band with a gem encrusted crescent moon. He always says they’re diamonds when they’re likely just crystals. Still beautiful, though. “You can keep it in the divorce.” And he means it. He holds Kravitz's hand for admittedly a moment or two longer than necessary.

Kravitz looks at Taako and his expression is odd, if not a little surprising. He almost looks wistful. Probably just the hangover, Taako figures.

Kravitz opens his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the smoke detector’s death rattle.

“Tell you what, Krav, I’ll kill any spiders we happen upon until this thing is dissolved if you change those goddamn batteries.”

“You got a deal.”

Taako knows he should get up when Kravitz gets up. Shouldn’t just stay in his bed. But he also shouldn’t feel this bummed about getting a real divorce after getting accidentally real married to his roommate, so it feels like a fair trade.

#this got a little wistful oops!!#alcohol ment #alcohol tw #taakitz #taakitz au #taako taaco #kravitz #the adventure zone #taz #taz balance #tazb #reese writes #thank you so much for the request!!#i still have two requests vibing in my inbox and ill get to those soon i promise!#[but reese what did taako get his phd in??] sociology and im not taking anymore questions fkrbrhrid #this au is super vague and honestly i think thats fun

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 3 years

Note

I'm so excited to read everything for Summer of Love ✨ could i request prompt 37 + 53 with Tom? Maybe friends to lovers 👀

YES I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THE VEGAS REQUEST I AM SO EXCITED

Okay no more screaming but I seriously hope you like it! This is one of my favorite prompts so I was super excited to get to do it 🥰🥰 Anyways, thanks for sending it in, feedback, as always, is appreciated and encouraged. Love you so so much xx

Drive Thru Wedding

37 - Getting drunk and getting married in Vegas

53 - "We are not platonic, and my feelings are never going to be platonic."

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (friends to lovers)

Warnings: light angst

Summary: You had a drive thru wedding with your best friend

Masterlist

Taglist

Summer of Love

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tom sat up, groaning and rubbing his eyes as light streamed into the hotel room. The room slowly came into focus and he spotted (y/n) passed out on his bed. He knit his brow and padded towards the window, pulling the blinds closed to try and dull his throbbing head. He made his way to the bathroom, wincing as he turned on the light. He splashed water on his face before realizing he was still in the same clothes he’d put on the night before. With a heavy sigh he returned to the bedroom and peaked at his phone. Calls and texts from his family and Harrison, nothing unusual outside of the fact that it was nearly noon.

“Shit,” he swore, glancing back over at (y/n), “Darling wake up,” he set a hand on her back, shaking her lightly.

She groaned, “Go away.”

“It’s nearly noon, come on, time to get up,” he chuckled.

“Fuck you,” she swore back at him before rolling onto her back, “I feel awful.”

“Yeah, me too,” he sighed, “I barely remember last night.”

“Me either. I hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing…”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” he assured, “We should go get some water, and eat.”

“Good call, but I need to shower first,” she yawned as she finally sat up, “Mind if I use your shower?”

“No, no of course not, I’m just gonna call Haz.”

“Cool, I’ll be quick,” she promised.

“Take your time,” he waved her off as he punched in his friend's number.

“Ah, he lives,” Harrison teased as he picked up the phone, “How’s (y/n)?”

“Showering, we’re both a bit fucked,” he frowned, “You aren’t in the suite are you?”

“No, we got breakfast and now we’re heading for the mob museum. We were going to wake you guys up but it seemed like you needed the sleep. You want to come meet us here?”

“Maybe, we’ve got to go eat first though,” he sighed, “Dude, what happened last night?”

“We all got really trashed, you and (y/n) were taking shots and you two took the driver and disappeared. We were all too trashed to even notice you were missing until we left though, but you guys were passed out when we got back to the hotel, so we figured you must have just headed back,” he chuckled, “Don’t remember a thing huh?’

“Hardly, I mean I remember being at the club for a while, but I don’t remember leaving…”

“Does she remember anything?”

“No, I don’t think she remembers anymore than I do.”

“That’s good, at least if you, you know, confessed something, she doesn’t remember.”

Tom blushed, “Yeah, that’s a plus…”

It was obvious to Harrison that something was wrong, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Tom sighed, “I’ve just got this feeling something happened, I just can’t remember what.”

“Hey, I’m sure if you did anything too bad it’d be in the news by now. You probably just threw up or fell or something.”

“Probably, I just hope no one got it on video.”

“I’m sure they didn’t, look I gotta go, our Uber’s here, but let me know if you end up heading our way.”

“Yeah, no problem, I’ll get back to you in a bit.”

Tom rubbed his eyes and dug around his suitcase for some fresh clothes, after finding them he headed across the suite to use a different bathroom. He desperately wanted to clean up and figure out exactly what had occurred the night before. She still looked exhausted when they reunited outside of his room, he was sure he didn’t look any better.

“Everyone went out already huh?”

Tom nodded, “Yeah, they’re at the mob museum right now. They said we can meet up with them if we want, I figure we can see how we feel after we eat.”

“Good idea,” she rubbed her stomach with a sigh, “Do you think a mimose would help or hinder me right now.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Definitely hinder. I think both of us should be on an alcohol detox today.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she sighed, “Alright, a boring, virgin breakfast it is.”

“Oh you poor thing,” he laughed as they stepped onto the elevator, “It’s just tragic.”

They both opted for something easy on the stomach, simple eggs and fruits, regretting that they didn’t bring sunglasses down from the hotel room. They were both certain they couldn’t make it through a day on the strip, the lights and noise were bound to be too much, which ruled out the possibility of going to meet their friends. Tom still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, it was an unreachable itch in the back of his mind.

“What do you remember from last night?”

“Uh, being at the club, doing some shots,” she tapped her chin, “I don’t know Tom, not much, it’s all kind of blurry really.”

“Same here. I just wonder where we were…”

“I’m sure we just came back here,” she yawned, “I mean you’re pretty high profile, if we were out doing anything crazy I’m sure we would have heard about it by now.”

“Yeah, probably…”

“Mr. Holland?” the waiter approached their table with a smile, “I have something for you from the front desk.”

“Oh, thanks,” he frowned at the manilla envelope placed in front of him, “Uh, who’s this from?”

“Your diver returned it this morning.”

“Thanks,” he repeated as he tore into the envelope, suddenly going wide eyed at its contents, “What the…”

(y/n) frowned and scooted towards him, “I wanna see.”

Before them laid a series of photos of them, clearly taken the night before at the Little White Chapel. (y/n) held a bouquet and Tom held her, his lips pressed to her cheek in one photo and her lips in the next.

“Holy shit,” (y/n)’s jaw nearly hit the floor, “No fucking way…”

“We must have been there for someone else,” Tom tried to explain.

“With a bouquet? Kissing?” (y/n) frowned at him, “Oh my god we eloped in Vegas!”

“Guess you can mark that one off your bucket list,” Tom tried to joke.

“Tom!” she flushed, “This is serious! We need to go somewhere right away and get this annulled!”

“Look even if we did do it, it doesn’t mean it was legally binding, I mean we were drunk, they probably just let us take some pictures to entertain us.”

“God I hope so,” she groaned, “We need to go down there now, get this sorted out right away.”

“I’ll call a driver,” Tom assured, “We’ll sort this out.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(y/n) drummed her finger along her arm nervously while the elder lady at the chapel typed away at her computer, checking if anything had been registered under either of their names.

“Oh, yep, here it is,” she smiled to them, “Looks like we did hold a wedding for you two last night.”

“Like a real, legal one?” (y/n) pressed.

She nodded, “Yep, you two are married.”

“W-Well you have to delete it,” she demanded.

“Oh hunny, I can’t do that,” she apologized, “You’ll have to go to the county court to apply for an annulment.”

She groaned and Tom smiled at the lady as he ushered her towards the door, “Thanks for all your help, have a nice day.”

“You’re welcome!” she called after them cheerfully.

“This sucks,” (y/n) pinched her brow as they returned to the car, “I guess we’re going to the county court then.”

“We’ll get this sorted out,” Tom blushed, “I just hope we can stay friends after the divorce.”

She laughed while he gave instructions to the driver, “Depends how big my alimony checks are.”

“Why are you the one that gets alimony checks? What about me huh?”

“Because there’s no way I make more money than you movie star,” she poked his chest, “I’m taking Tessa too.”

“Oh now you’re taking it way too far,” he shook his head, “You can take the kids, and the houses, and the money, but no way you’re taking Tessa.”

“Dick,” she shook her head, “After everything we’ve been through, I can’t even keep the dog?”

“Absolutely not,” he laughed, “That’s my baby, I’ll go to war over her.”

“You used to talk that way about me,” (y/n) rolled her eyes, “See this is exactly why we’re getting this divorce.”

“Maybe we should have tried counseling,” he hummed, “You know I don’t think it would be so bad.”

“A divorce?”

“No, if we were married,” he flushed, “I mean just cause we’re like best friends and everything…”

“Yeah but you don’t marry your best friend,” she laughed, “You marry the love of your life.”

“I know, I know, I’m just saying, you know,” he wrung his hands nervously, embarrassed he’d said anything at all.

“What? That’d we’d be a super hot celebrity power couple? Because that’s totally true,” she smiled, “We’d be the best dressed at every premier.”

“Yeah, we’d be a good power couple…”

“I’m sure you and your eventual wife will also be a power couple,” she squeezed his arm with a big smile, “Well, second wife.”

He nodded and pursed his lips, “Can you believe we kissed?”

She laughed, “Oh yeah, lucky you.”

He was upset he couldn’t remember their first, and possibly only kiss, he always imagined it would be more special. “It’s just weird not remembering any of it.”

“I just don’t even know where we got the idea,” she sighed, “I wonder if we drove by it or something…”

“I don’t know, maybe we just talked about it.”

“Maybe, like we got all drunk and got up in our feels.”

“Probably.”

“Tom, what's wrong?” she frowned at him.

“Nothing, I’m just hungover,” he insisted.

“Alright, well we can go lay down again after we sort this out.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

They were quiet the rest of the drive, with Tom growing more and more anxious as they approached the courthouse. It wasn’t that he wanted to be married, but he wanted some kind of relationship. He wanted to confess that he liked the idea of kissing her and being married to her and all of that, he just couldn’t seem to spit it out.

“Hi,” (y/n) smiled at the woman at the front desk, “This is kind of embarrassing but we got really drunk last night and ended up getting married, we just needed to file for an annulment.”

“Happens all the time,” she nodded, “Just fill this out and we’ll call you back to get this sorted out.”

“Thanks,” she took a clipboard and sat down beside Tom, “Time to start dividing assets.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tom took the board from her and began scribbling information down.

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad of a wife.”

“Ah, what’s got you in a sour mood Tommy?”

“Nothing,” he insisted, “I’m just trying to get this over with.”

“(y/n).”

“Fine, fine, I’ll just sit here,” she sighed, “Guess we aren’t getting divorce ice cream after this huh?”

Tom said nothing.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tom continued to be quiet as they signed papers and drove back to the hotel, all (y/n) could get with her were one word responses. She wasn’t sure what had changed and made him so upset. She was worried he’d gotten a message from his managers or something.

“Tom come on, you can tell me what’s going on,” she begged, “I know you're upset.”

“It’s nothing okay? I keep telling you I’m fine.”

“But you aren’t, I know you aren’t, and I’m just trying to help, you know you can tell me anything.��

He pinched his nose, “I can’t tell you about this.”

“Of course you can,” she set her hand on his back with a frown, “You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know, today was just stressful.”

“I’m sure no one saw anything, somebody would have contacted you already.”

“Not about that,” he sighed.

“Okay, what about then?”

“What if I didn’t want to get the annulment?”

She wrinkled her brow in confusion, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because it’s you,” he blushed.

“You want us to have some kind of platonic marriage?” she laughed.

Without a word he cupped her face, pressing his lips to hers for a bruising kiss, “We are not platonic, and my feelings are never going to be platonic.”

Her whole face flushed and her jaw hung open in shock, “You’re into me?”

“I’m completely crazy about you,” he nodded.

“S-So you want to marry me?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “Not right now at least. But I don’t want to throw away any chance of us being together.”

“Tom annulling our drunk Vegas wedding isn’t the same as throwing away any chance of us being together,” she bit her cheek, “I mean I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m into you.”

His cheeks flushed bright red, “Really?”

She nodded, “Obviously dummy, I don’t think I would have married you if I didn’t.”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, “So it would be cool if I wanted to take you on a date?”

“Very cool,” she nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, “But maybe this time we can wait a little longer for the proposal.”

“Yeah well a Vegas drive thru was never exactly my dream wedding anyway,” he squeezed her waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Maybe we should go somewhere without alcohol though, just to be safe.”

“Considering my head’s still throbbing, I actually think I’m good on drinking for the rest of the year,” she got on her tiptoes, giving Tom another quick kiss.

“Speaking of which, how would you like to come take a hangover nap with me, girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a lovely use of our time, boyfriend.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@niallberry @spideyssunshine @namoreno @thevery-firstpage @outshineallthestars @roseke @zspideyy @emistrash @andreagf956 @tomsirishgirlx @peachyafshawn @agbspidey

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader angst #tom #tom and harrison #tom and haz #harrison osterfield #harrison #summer of love #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction

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cheekygreenty · 3 years

Text

Little Witch - Part 23

The Darkling x Reader

Aleksander walked into the dungeons not long after you, Zoya briefing him as you stood over the man who had caused a ruckus in your Palace. You were getting tired of his lies and fibs, basically begging to force the information out of his yourself but alas Ivan had some morals, telling you that the truth would come out of him in due time without the need for torture. Pity.

'I've been swindled, hoodwinked' he cried and you huffed, retreating to Zoya's side in annoyance. This man had some nerve lying in a room with 2 Heartrenderers.

'My guards tell me that they caught you fleeing the scene of the crime.'

'Yes, I followed them.'

'Followed whom?'

'They come from the other side of the Fold. From the start, they seemed, just, a bit off to me...-' You banged the back of your head against the wall in frustration, your patience wafer-thin. Zoya too looked done with the situation. Her jaw ticking in a telltale sign of annoyance.. '-So I ran.'

'How much of that is true?'

'He did cross the Fold with the others-' Ivan started but you cut in to finish.'-the rest were lies.'

You watched as Aleksander and Ivan entertained the man but your nerve had snapped for these theatrics. You needed to get the information and act on it, not make a spectacle. The man was already practically dead so why was he even trying to cover up his true identity?

Aleksander pulled up his sleeve and the tally on his arm was visible from your place at the wall. Countless journeys through the Fold burned into his skin in line form, a tradition used in all of Ravka by members of the public and First-Army.

'That is certainly entertaining. You are the Conductor, Arken Visser, are you not? You smuggle Grisha out of my palace! You help them abandon the war effort.' You were getting tired now, Aleksander had always played with his prey but this was dragging on and you had a growing list of urgent things to do: a dead Inferni to tend to, a missing sun-summoner to find, and a royal proposal.

You sighed loudly again, starting a slow pace around the dimly lit dungeon. To Arken you looked intimidating, his terrified eyes followed your steps around him, but all you were doing was keeping your boredom at bay.

'No. I deal in legal indentures. I don’t mess with Grisha.'

'Lie' both you and Ivan mused.

'I don't need them to tell me'

'Saints, hurry this up' You muttered under your breath as you rounded around to Zoya again. Being the good soldier she is, she ignored you. Your ears perked up and actually started listening as the trembling man confessed his ties with Zlatan, only then did your petty behavior pause momentarily.

'You put on a disguise. And you played at being assassin'

'That’s right.' You smiled at his concrete confession, having enough evidence now to use and to kill him. You thought back to the Inferni in the chapel as Arkin mentioned the Ketterdam thieves, did they do that too?

Aleksander turned his head to the side toward Zoya signaling for her to leave. You looked to Ivan and nodded in her direction, instantly assuming you were to stay. Ivan looked less than happy but obliged.

'And the dead Inferni in the chapel? Was that part of the thieves' plan?' You spoke up.

Arkin looked up at you with wide eyes 'That was not me, I swear. I can't be sure it was them either' You scoffed as his heartbeat remained steady indicating no lies. Great, I don't even have the murderer. Aleksander walked away from him, throwing a glance your way as he walked away too. You didn't need to be told what to do, you just did what you yearned to do the second you laid your eyes on the Conductor.

'Tell me how I can help' He shouted as you took a step back creating a distance.

'You already have.' Aleksander's voice echoed in the halls. You raised your hand with elegance and looked into the man's eyes one last time before his demise. Shadows pooled around your feet and fire enthralled the clothes on his back. The vein in his neck grew prominent as your other hand clenched into a fist. His shouts and screams were silent in your ears, a skill you had managed to master years ago to preserve your sanity.

'You don't mess with Grisha, Arkin.'

*****

Hours had passed and the work never stopped. Sleep was long forgotten that night. Aleksander was beside himself too, the search for Alina and the Stag weighed on him heavily, and now with the added search for Nina Zenik he hadn't slept a minute too. You needed to tell him about the Queen, as minutes ticked you cursed your cowardliness and fear. You were scared to tell him. You admitted it, but that fear was nothing in comparison to dread bubbling inside of you on how he would react.

Your steps were slow and lazy, the winter fete gown still on your body. There was a burn on the bottom of it from Polin, the twin sister of the dead Inferni. Upon telling the woman her brother was dead, her grief overcame her and momentarily had a mind of its own. You told her it was okay, but the smell of smoke still loomed around you like a reminder of the night.

Your frame was now in direct line of vision of the open door of Aleksander's study. Fedyor stood in the center of the room, his red kefta eerily similar to the roaring fire. You hesitated to walk in, but your feet dragged you in any way. Compared to Aleksander who'd been in the same predicament as you, you looked chaotic. Your once gorgeous gown was now dirty and burned gown, your hair falling down your shoulders in a tangled mess and the undereye bags contending with Aleksander's kefta. You looked like you'd been to hell and back. So when Fedyor cast a worried look at you on his way out, you simply shrugged and sat down in the chair, shoulder slacking and eyes drooping.

'I'm leading a team to search for the criminals at sundown, care to join?' He closed the doors and walked to a teapot, pouring a mug and handing it to you with a gentle kiss on your head. A sweet gesture but not sweet enough to push your worries aside.

'Aleksander sit down' It came out in a clipped tone and surprised him.

'What?

'Sit down' You waved your hand and the gust of wind pulled out the chair opposite you. Waiting until he sat down, you took your sip of the hot liquid. His body settled into the chair then his eyes studied your face too closely for your liking so you cleared your throat and turned your head away from him, suddenly feeling shy.

'I spoke with the Queen.'

'And?' He was alert and upright, leaning closer to you in an abrupt second. You blew out a breath and choked down the lump in your throat. You were most certainly not going to cry. You started ranting, letting your words run free and take over the panic in your mind.

'Ummmm, well it's definitely not what you think. It wasn't what I thought anyway. I thought maybe she would ask me to be her advisor or something I don't know bu-'

'Y/N what did she say?' He was growing impatient.

'She wants me to marry the Prince. Not just her, the King too.' You set down the hot mug and smoothed out the disaster of a dress on your lap. Your lips pulled down into a frown but you willed yourself not to cry. Don't cry.

'.....what?' His eyes were wide now, you could see his jaw clench.

'It didn't feel like a question. I think she has something on me.' You had been trying to push that thought away as hard as you could but you felt safe telling Aleksander. 'She didn't explicitly say it, but her words weren't kind or gentle. It wasn't a proposal. It felt like a 'do this or else' kind of situation' You played with the handle of the mug to distract yourself from his gaze and your urge to let the waterworks flow.

'I don't know what to do.' As if the burning in your throat wasn't enough, your steady voice cracked toward the end of that sentence, letting the first tear drip from your eye. You let go of the mug and crossed your arms against the table surface.

He didn't say anything just sat back in the chair, letting a hand through the softness of his black hair. Somewhere deep down you felt relief- relief that he wasn't jumping at the opportunity to marry you off.

'Are you sure? What would it be?'

'I can't be sure but I'm being careful. There's only one thing it can be' You let your head fall into your folded arms, shielding away from him in case the sobs you were holding back burst out of your seams. There was only ever one thing you had done that could be used against you and to this day it haunted your nightmares. The gruesomeness of it keeping you up at night.

'Did you give her an answer?'

'No.' The table shook as his fist came down on it harshly after a brief and stealthy silence.

'You're not doing it. No way' You heard his chair move back and his boots walk toward you. His hands came to pick your arms up off the table and haul you up to his height. All his attention was fixed on you. 'Did you hear me? No. I mean it. Don't do that to yourself.'

'It didn't seem like a choice Aleksander'

'Then make it one. Over my dead body are they going to take that away from you' His grip on your arms tightened as he spoke those words and you had no shadow of a doubt he meant them. You had your ups and downs together, but Aleksander rarely ever lied about things like this.

'You don't belong with them, you belong here in the Little Palace and you're not leaving again' His gaze was hot and intense, the anger and rage from the night building up and boiling over.

In that moment, Aleksander had snapped. The Crown was taking you away from him, just like they had done with Luda and countless others. He swore to protect you all those years ago and he was finally going to do right by you.

'I'm not letting that sobachka take you away from me.'

---------

Part 24

Masterlist

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!) @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb @grisha-of-shadow-bone @rosiethefairy @carlywhomever @allisjustok @keepdaydreamingbb @luciadiosa @azkahanif

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sariahsue · 3 years

Text

Footsteps

Marinette’s about to get married to her soulmate, a man she’s never met before. Too bad she meets that cute groomsman in the hallway first. Rated G. 4,000 words.

***

Marinette bunched the white lace of her train into her fists and walked faster, eyes searching the empty marble hallway. Just keep walking. She could get through today. One foot in front of the other.

All she needed was some fresh air. She thought a building as enormous as this one would have at least one window that she could open. Instead, sunlight streamed through vaulted arches taller than the bakery she'd lived in her whole life, mocking her.

Marinette poked her head around a corner into a side hallway, saw nothing but closed doors, expensive paintings (that couldn't be an actual van Gogh, right?), and a plush white rug, and walked past.

All she needed was a few quick breaths, a little bit of air to cool off her flushed face, and a few minutes away from her hovering family and bridesmaids so she could pull herself together. And then she would get right back.

How big was this building? Each hallway she looked down offered a new way to get lost, with smaller hallways coming off of the side hallways and as many doors as there had been guests and staff just an hour ago. She gripped her train harder. Staff that had disappeared to the banquet hall to set up for the reception. Guests that were nowhere in sight because they were being seated in the chapel right now.

A door snapped shut somewhere behind her, and she whirled around, her heart in her mouth at having been caught, but no one was there. Her eyes traced crystal vases on marble tables only put there to break up the vast space the building contained. Nothing moved. And nothing looked familiar.

Can I even find my way back now?

It was a problem she would have to deal with later. She didn't have the capacity for one more thing to go wrong right now, so she marched forward to continue her quest.

Her heels click-clicked as she walked across the polished floor, and she could have sworn she heard the door closing once again.

The shoes were going to give her away. With shaking fingers, she reached down and unstrapped them. They swung from her hands as she kept going.

Just a few days ago, Marinette had been so excited to finally meet her soulmate and get married. Why had the feeling deserted her today?

She knew the answer. All week it had been building, but now that the day was here, the swirling anxiety that had been simmering below the surface of her joy just couldn't be ignored any longer.

Most people gave themselves a few weeks or at least a few days after meeting their soulmate to get married, but her husband-to-be, Adrien, had insisted on being "traditional." No seeing each other until the wedding. She hadn't even talked to him on the phone yet. They would fall in love at first sight, as she walked down the aisle. If she'd met him before, maybe right now she wouldn't be so-

Marinette bumped into a glass-topped side table, sending the empty crystal vase on top tilting dangerously. Dropping her train, she managed to grab it before anything smashed. She stood there, frozen, listening, waiting to see if anyone would scold her, but no one was around. With a whispered "Sorry!" at the vase, she put it back in its place and kept searching through the maze of hallways.

It must have cost a fortune to rent this humongous mansion for the day. A new worry stuck in her throat. I'm not going to be able to fit in with my husband's family, am I? Adrien would love her completely. That's just how it worked. But what if her in-laws hated her because her parents weren't rich too?

Her panic spiral was halted by the sight of a familiar blue rug pattern in one of the side hallways. Marinette made her way over, window quest forgotten, and she tripped over her dress the whole way there.

The long, white walls were filled with paintings of fruit and flowers, like the ones she used to make in art class (but with lighting skills so good it made her want to cry), and no… she hadn't been down this way before. Even as upset as she was, the artist in her would have remembered.

Marinette took a few seconds too long to glare at an apple, and by the time she heard the whispering, it was far too late for her to hide.

"Sneaking," a male voice whispered.

Marinette turned toward the voice. Had someone seen her? Did someone know she was roaming the building alone? She saw no one. And she saw nowhere she could quickly hide.

A few feet in front of her, the hallway turned a corner and continued out of sight. Some of the hallways had been like that, leading to more corridors and rooms that she hadn't bothered to explore. The footsteps came closer.

"Sneaking around the corner."

If she held very still, maybe he wouldn't notice? She walked backwards and pressed into the white wall, the fabric of her dress rustling loudly with every step, every breath she took.

His shoes squeaked as a hunched figure came into view.

"I'm not sneaking!" Marinette blurted out as soon as she saw him.

He jerked up straight.

She noticed three things instantly. He was blond. He was holding his hands around his eyes, like binoculars or a mask, and he was in the nicest tuxedo she had ever seen.

The man was also quite a bit taller than her, but he still jumped back in alarm when he saw her, and finally lowered his hands. Brilliant green eyes went from shocked to soft and warm and inviting.

"S-sorry," he finally said. "I was the one sneaking around. No worries."

"Oh," Marinette said, heart beating in her throat. "Right. I wasn't sneaking."

He smiled, and Marinette was glad she was already leaning against a wall. He had to be the single most beautiful human being she'd ever met her in life.

"Um, nice to meet you?" he said. When he held out a hand to shake, she quickly took it. His hand was soft and gentle and warm. No ring on either hand that she could see. Gorgeous and single!

Guilt swept through her, making her drop his hand. Here she was, getting married in literally a few minutes and ogling someone else. But he was still smiling at her. No, she had to stop thinking like a single woman. But he was so pretty.

"Of course. So, uh," He looked down at her dress. "You must be the bride, huh? Marinette? Nice to meet you."

Sweat prickled on the back of her neck. Judging by his outfit, she'd just been caught by a member of the groom's wedding party, a groomsman or a family member. Would he tell her future husband that she was out here getting cold feet? Not that it wasn't true, but she didn't want her soulmate to know about it.

"And you are?" she asked, hoping to divert attention away from herself. "One of the wedding party, right?"

"Yeah," he whispered and reached for her hand again. "I am. I was out here looking for you. I'm A-"

She shrank back. No matter how much she wanted to, she shouldn't be thinking about him this way. She was getting married to someone else.

The man dropped his hand quickly, eyes roaming her face, like he was looking for what he had done wrong. When he couldn't find anything, he ran his fingers through his hair and stammered out an apology. Marinette watched each lock fall back into place, the light catching each strand and making him glow.

"I'm-" he tried again, a blush rising in his cheeks. "Ni- W-winston."

"Winston?" Marinette couldn't help but laugh a little. That was the least French-sounding name she'd ever heard.

"Winston the groomsman," he said, not looking at her. "Yes, old family name. My father's name, and his father's name, and I think I have an old uncle. Because we're British way back there somewhere on my mother's side-"

"Nice to meet you, 'Winston.'" It was apparent he was nervous, and she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable, so she changed the subject. "What are you doing out here? You were looking for me?"

"Um." He looked around the hallway for inspiration, and Marinette immediately regretted her question as she watched his discomfort grow.

"I- He- The groom wanted to meet you before the wedding," Winston confessed.

"He did?"

"Yeah, he wanted to break tradition and see you, but Fa- his father is stifling stick in the mud."

"Yeah?" The knowledge was somehow both comforting and unsettling. She and her future husband had both wanted to meet first, but her father-in-law… she wasn't going to fit in.

"Yeah," he breathed. "He can't wait to meet you. But he couldn't get away, so I thought I'd come out here. And, wow, he's going to love you. You're amazing."

Marinette flushed at the compliment. "Isn't that how it's supposed to work? Love and first sight and everything?"

"Sure," Winston said, "but you know what I mean."

In the distance, an organ started playing softly, but Marinette barely heard it. This man would go through all that trouble for a friend of his? He was so kind, and she was going gooey under his intense gaze.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked quietly.

Just like that, the glow was gone. Would he believe the truth, that she was just hoping for some fresh air? He might be sympathetic. But he might not be. Who would feel sorry for a bride on her wedding day?

"I was… looking for the bathroom and got super lost." She adjusted her skirt with one hand to give herself something to do and then laughed nervously. "This place is such a maze."

Winston didn't answer right away. He studied the train of her dress, mouth a thin line of disappointment. Her shoes dangled from her loose fingers as she waited, and she adjusted her grip.

"You don't have to get married today, you know," he said. "You can call it off."

Marinette squirmed at how perceptive he was - or maybe she was just obvious - and pushed her hair out of her eyes. When it fell back into place, Winston reached out to tuck it behind her ear but stopped himself. His hand hung there awkwardly between them until he let it slowly fall.

"It's okay to be nervous," he said. "I know lots of people who didn't go through with their weddings. Loads."

Marinette smiled at the lie, grateful he was trying in spite of everything, though she was still a little worried he was going to tell Adrien about this conversation, or that word would somehow get to her future in-laws. She wasn't sure which would have been worse, giving her in-laws ammunition or disappointing Adrien.

"No, I really did get lost," she said. "I didn't mean to get all the way over here." And to make it sound convincing, she added, "Do you know the way back?"

"I can walk you." Adrien stood up straight, his smile returning.

"Oh, you don't have to," Marinette said quickly. There might still be a chance for her to find a window and that breath of fresh air she'd been hoping for.

"I insist." Winston held out an arm for her, and like the idiot she was, she eagerly took it. His free hand settled over hers, and they began to walk.

Her heels swung from her other hand, and without their added inches, the difference in their height was ludicrous. But Winston didn't comment on it, just matched her pace without making her feel rushed.

Together, they left the small hallway and stepped back into the still deserted main hallway. Sunlight poured through the windows, reflecting off the gleaming floors and sparkling crystal chandeliers high above. Winston's hand on hers was comforting, and he was so sweet to help her, but now there was no chance for her to get away.

Feebly, she said, "I think I recognize this part now. You can get back."

"Oh, they won't miss me," Winston said. "I'll make sure you get back safe. Is there anything else you need?"

Marinette sighed. As kind as he was handsome, and she hoped he never removed his hand from hers. Why did he have to be so nice and gentle?

After several more turns, she really did start to recognize things. How had she wandered so far? Her family must have been worried by now.

Marinette didn't bother to escape from him again, and Winston didn't let go of her, even when they stopped in front of the bride's room with its white and blank, gleaming, bronze plaque.

"I can't wait to see you coming down the aisle in a few minutes," Winston said. He lowered his arm, and her hand slipped away from his sleeve. She felt the loss of his touch immediately. "I mean, if you still want to," he added quickly.

"I'll be fine," she squeaked. "Thanks."

"Okay," he said, waving goodbye without moving away. "Great. See you."

Yup. He was definitely the most adorable, sweet, and beautiful man she'd ever met. "Why couldn't I be marrying this guy?"

Winston took a step back. "What?"

Huh? She'd said that out loud? She'd said that out loud!

Fumbling for the handle behind her, Marinette said a hasty goodbye and launched herself through the door and slammed it shut without looking at his expression. What was she supposed to do now?

"Girl, where have you been?"

In seconds, Alya, Sabine, and Tom were gathered around her. Marinette leaned her back against the cool door, wondering if Winston was still staring at the spot where she'd been standing.

"Are you all right?" her father asked.

"Just needed some fresh air," Marinette said, staring at their shoes. "Then I got lost. Have you seen this place?"

"Marinette," Sabine said, lifting her daughter's chin with one soft hand. "You can tell us the truth."

The tension in Marinette's body all came out in a rush. Her shoulders slumped, and she slid down the door two inches.

Tom brought over a chair, and Marinette tried to sit down, only to find that her dress was caught in the door. What else could go wrong today? Without peeking into the hallway, she opened the door and removed her train - to her relief, it didn't look like she'd ripped it - and then collapsed into the chair.

"It's okay to be nervous," Sabine said.

Marinette nodded, though that wasn't the entire problem anymore. She was supposed to be marrying a friend of "Winston's" in a few minutes, maybe his best friend or even his brother. He would be standing there, witnessing her marriage, knowing what she'd just said. How was she supposed to show her face out there now?

Her parents and Alya doted on her, trying to put her fears at ease, but it was only making everything worse. She couldn't ignore her anxiety while everyone was talking about it. They flitted around the small room, fetching her water, guiding her to sit down in front of the triple mirror vanity, offering to brush her hair out. "That always calmed you down when you were little," Sabine said.

Marinette nodded.

"If it makes you feel better," Tom said, "I'm sure he's just as nervous as you are. I was nervous, too."

"Everyone expects you to be a little anxious." Sabine picked up the bristle brush while Marinette avoided looking at herself in the mirror. "You're marrying someone without ever having met him. That's terrifying. But you're going to be okay."

Marinette nodded again, dumbly. They waited for her to say something, respond with her usual cheerful attitude, and when she didn't, Alya jumped in.

"Sabine, didn't you get married and move to France at the same time?"

All four of them knew the story. Marinette had grown up hearing it, had loved hearing her parents' own love story.

"I found out my soulmate's name two days after my twenty second birthday," she said. Marinette could almost mouth the words along with her mother, they were so familiar. "I couldn't believe he was so far away. I started teaching myself French almost immediately, but the first time we got on the phone to speak to each other, all I could say was hello!"

A tug on Marinette's scalp told her that Sabine had found a small knot. She set the brush down and started to pick at it with her fingers.

"I moved away from home to a strange country, and was learning a new language, and was nervous about meeting my soulmate, but as soon as I saw him, it didn't matter," Sabine said. "You're going to be fine. As soon as you see him, you'll love him, and everything will be okay."

"I know all that," Marinette said. "But I'm scared now!" Not to mention distracted by "Winston," and the crushing guilt that reminded her she shouldn't be.

"Well," her father cut in. "What do you want to do about it, Marinette? Do you feel like we should wait a little bit?"

"Yeah," Alya added. "We can tell them there's something wrong with your dress or whatever if you need a few more minutes."

"I'm sure Adrien would understand," Sabine said. "He seemed very kind when we talked to him."

A few more minutes sounded wonderful, a chance to collect herself, do delay the inevitable. Or a chance for her anxiety to get worse. She took a deep breath. "No, let's just get this over with."

"Very convincing." Alya picked her clutch up off the vanity and started fishing around inside it. "You sound so pumped. Let me just text Adrien." Alya pulled out her phone.

"No," Marinette said, covering the phone with one hand. Her fake nails clicked on the screen.

"Waiting's not going to make it easier. I don't need any more time to worry. It's like you said, when I see him, everything will be fine. So let's just so see him. I want to see him."

"All right." Alya dropped her phone onto the table and grabbed the eye shadow. "Come here, then."

Marinette sat as still as she could while Sabine finished her hair and Alya did her makeup and Tom hovered around, asking what he should do to make her feel more comfortable. When they didn't give him any ideas, he started telling funny stories from Marinette's baby days.

Marinette only half listened, making sure to smile when someone else laughed. Maybe Winston had asked "What?" because he hadn't heard what she'd said. She had said it quietly, after all. That was logical.

Eventually, Tom had to leave the room to check on how things were progressing. Marinette missed his voice and his stories. The silence was too easy for her anxious mind to fill.

If she could just make it a few more minutes, if she could just make it to the altar, then she'd fall in love with her soulmate at first sight and everything would be great. No more worrying. No more wondering.

The final piece of her outfit, her veil, was laid out neatly on the flower-print sofa, waiting for her. When Alya declared her face perfect and Sabine could find no hair out of place, Marinette strapped her heels back on and stood, knees shaking, and retrieved her veil. She seemed like another woman in the mirror as she watched herself put it on.

Marinette did want to meet Adrien. She did. A few days ago, she'd felt excited. Just his name was enough to put a smile on her face. Her parents had met him, and she'd devoured every detail of him they could give her. Elation had bubbled through her chest as she had designed her wedding dress. It had taken weeks to finish simply because she was having so much fun designing it that she hadn't wanted to stop. If she could remember what it had felt like then, maybe she could recreate the feelings now.

The door creaked as it opened, and Tom walked back in. "It's time," he said, extending his arm for her.

Marinette plastered a smile onto her trembling lips and leaned on his arm to compensate for the weakness in her knees. No one else needed to know about her struggle, least of all Adrien.

The walk down the hallway to the chapel didn't take as long as Marinette thought that it should have. The organ music was too loud, but still not loud enough to drown out the breathing and whispers of a room full of hundreds of people, everyone who was ever important to her, and more that she would get to know well in her lifetime as Adrien's wife.

The processional song began to play, and Marinette walked in, staring at the pink petals on the carpet in front of her. Pews creaked and fabric rustled as everyone stood for her. And she kept her face down.

Don't make eye contact with the groomsmen. You're getting married to Adrien, so don't look for adorable "Winston."

Marinette forced her face up, searching out the people she knew. For her bridesmaids and Alya, her mother in the front row. Her school friends throughout the year, aunts and uncles who had flown from all over the world. A few held tissues, some waved at her. They were all smiling.

Everyone was smiling except for her.

She should be looking at her new husband - her soulmate - for the first time. He was probably looking at her. Had he already fallen for her? Was he wondering why she wasn't looking at him?

That curiosity was nothing compared to how much she wanted to look for the man she'd met in the hallway. There was something seriously wrong about that. It went beyond the guilt that she felt. It was a strangeness in the situation that she didn't have time to think about.

The line of petals thinned and disappeared halfway to the altar, and the organ music swelled.

The temptation was too great. Marinette raised her eyes, looking at the groomsmen first, looking for the friend that shouldn't have liked as much as she did. Because she was marrying someone else, she reminded herself as she quickly scanned their faces. And because she had only known him for about two minutes. What was wrong with her?

Her gaze skimmed them all twice, three times, but Winston wasn't there. Her footsteps stuttered to a halt before taking a big step to match her father's long stride. The hand holding her bouquet started to sweat.

Could he not bear to watch her marrying someone else? No, that was ridiculous. He didn't feel the same way. He wasn't feeling torn like she was.

He had definitely been part of the wedding party. He'd said so. So who was he?

The carpet ended, and Marinette heels clicked on marble as realization clicked into place. He was part of the wedding party, but not one of the groomsmen, so that must have meant…

For the first time that day, her heart pounded from something other than anxiety.

Marinette held her head high and looked for him. And she found him. "Winston." It had been a ridiculous name anyway. Adrien suited him much better.

Adrien smiled broadly at her. That wonderful smile she first saw out in the hallway was now a hundred times brighter, focused solely on her. He had snuck out to see her, had so gently guided her back when she was lost, had made sure she was comfortable, and offered to call off the wedding.

No wonder she had liked him so much. Love at first sight, just like everyone said.

He reached out a hand for her as she took the last few steps to the altar. Marinette slid her fingers into his, and they fit perfectly.

"Hi, Winston," Marinette whispered as she nestled herself into his side. "Could the groom not get away again? Are you getting married for him too?"

"I said the groom was going to love you," he said. "And I was right."

The last notes of the organ faded away, and a hush settled over their friends and family. This was it. They stepped together up to the altar. The first step of their lives together.

***

Author's note: Merry Christmas! You're getting something completely un-Christmasy. Huge thank you to @ours-polaires, @khanofallorcs, @vivalasaturn, and @noirshitsuji for reading over my outline of this and making sure everything made sense!

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #adrienette #arranged marriage au #soulmate au #incorrect quotes

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bluebellhairpin · 3 years

Text

The Kings Queen

King!Erwin Smith X Queen!Reader

A/N: It came to me in a daydream; I was MC; and certain British actor was he. And now it is no longer dream, but reality - if only because now in ink. - Nemo

Summary: In order to get his politicians off his back, Erwin needs an heir. The problem is, he isn’t even married yet. An arranged marriage is set, and his new queen is surprised at how compliant he is at waiting until she is ready.

Warnings: Misogyny is a major one here guys. Arranged Marriage. Age gap (he’s in in forties, and mc is in the twenties area). Talk of pregnancy, and children.

Listening to: ‘Once Upon a December’ from Anastasia (piano version)

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A month ago it scared you, and scared you now. You stood next to a man you didn’t know, vowing your life to him, and all you could think about was how uncomfortable your corset was, how the headpiece dug in behind your ears, and how much you would rather be anywhere else.

Doing anything else.

Being with anyone else.

You wanted to be curled up on the armchair your grandfather made, your younger sisters at your feet next to the fire, as you read aloud to them from a book they probably didn’t understand. Your mother would be on a couch across from you, needlepoint in hand, and your brother and father would walk in. Your father would kiss your mother’s temple, and your brother would join your sisters on the floor, handing them two small, handcrafted, wooden figures.

But instead you were here.

Standing under a chapel steeple, holding a bouquet that was too heavy, in a dress that had too much fabric. Almost half the city was crammed into the pews behind you, eyes hot and boring right into the back of your skull. Your almost-husband at your side. Your king at your side.

You were getting married to Erwin Smith, and he was the monarch of the land you grew up in.

You knew what was to follow. You knew why you were taken from your content life and thrust into the much higher end of high society. You were to give him a child tonight. An heir. And if it were born a girl, then you were to keep giving until it became a boy, and then some.

You weren’t sure if it were that which scared you most, or that you never got the chance to have found a love of your own. You weren’t giving anything up aside from your family in marrying your king. There was no farm boy or baker's daughter that you were leaving behind nor betraying by speaking the vows that came from your mouth.

No others lips had touched yours, and no one else’s fingers had grazed your wrist as Erwin’s did now. You marked off your shivers and incapability to meet his eyes as nerves, and nothing else.

Before you were taken away by your uncle, your mother told you something. She told you to notice things. Notice the people. Give them what they want, graciously, so that they have want for nothing, and then want of their own to spare.

So when you turned around to face those people, the crown which now held both allies and enemies, with your new husband’s arm wound around your waist, you noticed the people. You saw their smiles and cheers and decided to take your mothers words to heart. They were your people now, you were their queen.

So you fought down the nerves, painted on your best smile, and sent greetings and waves to as many as you could as you made your way to your new home.

You had to admit, like most children, you did gaze upon the castle and it’s stone walls, wondering what life behind them was like.

You had been once before, a garden party when you were younger and your brother was only a tot. It was one of the few parties the lesser and higher nobles alike were invited to. As equals. It was the first Erwin held after he was crowned king. He hadn’t had one like it since.

You remember wandering off into the rose maze with your brother's hand in yours. Being only ten years old, your mind made the brush of thorns and baby-pink blooms into a lot more than what they really were. Whether it were to comfort yourself or to keep your brother calm, you made up a little game.

Somewhere in the maze was a dragon; blood red scales and teeth as long and sharp as kitchen knives, a belly full of flames, and a smell for human flesh. If you stayed stagnant too long, it would find you around the next corner and swallow you up in one gnash of it’s jaws.

But there was also a Prince in the maze; brave, gallant, and knight-like in every way possible. With hair golden like fresh cut hay, and eyes as clear and strong as ocean waves. He would wield a sword with a blade so sharp that one blow would send that dragon straight to its death.

Of course you didn’t tell such things to your brother. They were a bit intense for a four-year-old, so you dulled it down a number of notches.

Imagine your surprise when you ran into someone, with hair the colour of fresh-cut hay, and eyes of the clear blue. He offered you his hand, and told you he’d keep you safe from that ‘dragon’ who was chasing you.

And he did stay true to his word. You did get out of the maze safely, even if there was no dragon he was protecting you and your brother from.

You remember that boy, a man really, and how he was handsome with his youthful features. Back then you didn’t know who he was. Namely that not only a few months ago he really was a prince, and that now he was the king hiding from most of his own party guests.

That was around fifteen years ago, naturally things were a little different this time around.

This time the party was inside, with tables stocked with foods - some you’d never even seen before - and candelabra’s. The room was already filled with guests, chattering and laughing, some even dancing with did bring a smile to your face. There was a group in the corner, playing instruments in all forms available. You had been changed before you joined your husband in a chair slightly smaller than his. Apparently being seen in your wedding dress at your wedding reception wasn’t proper, and that you needed to wear a more dulled-down version to eat.

The corset was just as tight.

You’d barely said more than a few words to him, and now here you were.

You excused yourself early from the celebrations, and no one batted an eyelid. ‘Preparing’ yourself might be proper.

There was a lady, a bit older than yourself, named Nanaba. She helped you out of the stifling corset and the wads of white fabric. The putting on of the night slip and it’s robe was a lot nicer. It did not require a corset, as nice as it might make you look. She sent in for some tea, and once it arrived she excused herself.

You wish you’d spoken to her more. She was nice. And it may have calmed your nerves a little. But you didn’t and you couldn’t will yourself to do anything except cling to the bedpost furthest from the door and wait. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long.

The door opened, and in stepped your king. You found yourself sucking in a breath, nails grazing into the polished wood, and you cast your eyes down to put yourself in check before looking up at him. He looked over at you, smiling lightly and shed his outer layer of clothes before sitting down at one of the chairs near the fire Nanaba lit earlier.

You wondered what he was waiting for.

“Come sit, please.” he said, shuffling a little to set up two dainty tea cups. “This is your home too now, the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable.”

You let out a quiet puff of air, playing with the new ring on your finger before making your way over to the chair opposite him.

“You are quite timid, aren’t you?” he mused, offering you a steaming cup, “I supposed though anyone would be all things considered.” He sat back, and you finally took a moment to notice how much he had to be admired. ‘Handsome’ was barely a word to describe him, but those blue eyes, and his hair looked like it would be soft to touch. It made you think of that ‘prince’ from the game you made up in the rose maze outside. What luck would bring you both to meet a second time.

He caught your eye again as he took a sip of his drink.

“You can take comfort in knowing nothing will happen tonight, nor any night in the foreseeable future.” he said, voice hushed and quiet and indeed comforting. “We are barely acquaintances, let alone friends or lovers.”

You couldn’t help but gape at him, letting your tea get colder.

“B-but why? You need a child, I… I-I’m here to give you one -”

“- no, that what all those lords want. The child that they want me to have is going to be yours too. It’s not my body that will be their home for the first nine months of their life. I admit,” he said, setting his cup aside, “I will need an heir eventually, but it’s no matter or urgency to me.”

“Not until I’m ready?”

“Not until you are ready.” he nodded.

“That’s very kind of you, your majesty.”

“Call me Erwin,” he said, taking to his knee as the glow of the fire reflected off his face, “At least when it is just us. Please?”

You let out a laugh, light with nerves and giddy fluttering in your heart, and brought a hand up to your mouth as you turned to compose yourself. You turned back with a smile to see his face matching yours.

Who knew you were seemingly fretting for nothing.

“Only if you also call me by my name.”

It was a well-known fact to even the ‘commoners’ that there were not many men in the kings court who were good people.

Within your first week of living in the palace you knew Erwin was one of them.

Despite his often off and rough ways of getting to and around things, he was a good man. He did have a good heart.

Another was a much older man named Dot Pixis. He had an odd manner of speaking, and his ways were not always perfect. But he always went out of his way to treat you kindly - something many others viewed as easily brushed aside - and he had a loyalty and trust to Erwin that you sensed not everyone had.

You also took kindly to Levi Ackerman and Miche Zacharias, both head guards set to protect Erwin and yourself, respectively. They both did marvelous jobs, for you nor Erwin had been hurt by someone will ill-intent yet. And despite both their quiet natures they were nice. At least Miche was. But they weren’t really ‘in parliament’.

Nile Dok was the only other of those men that didn’t send your gut reeling in some way. He had a family on his own, too, and you’d seen how he treated them the morning after your wedding night. He truly loved them, and a man who loved his family like that was one who you trusted. Your own father was like that with you.

Many other new friends were found in your new home, too. Hange was the head librarian, and with the help of Moblit the rows and rows of books were kept - not organized per say - but everything did have a place.

There were those in the kitchens, and the gardeners, maids, and military personnel. You made sure to greet them all when you could. You were more than happy when they returned the gesture, even if a little more than some of them didn’t.

But there were people you didn’t trust at all. They made your skin crawl. You knew you didn’t come from a lot, and didn’t expect the same respect that Erwin had, but what they showed towards you? Even Nanaba commented how you should be treated better.

However they would never treat you any less than a queen unless you were with Erwin. Unless you were with your husband, the most powerful man in the country. As much as you liked Erwin, and come to even love him in some very small way over such a short amount of time, you didn’t like that.

You didn’t like how you couldn’t get their respect unless you were standing next to him.

So you made up your mind.

#medieval au #erwin smith x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #king erwin #commander erwin smith x reader #call me the au master

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years

Text

You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 8

She Makes Me

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 3.8k

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 @50svibes @cagzzz107 If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update!

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

AO3 link

Chapter 8 let’s go!!!

LONDON HEIR WEDS UP AND COMING LADY

Arthur William Burns, 33, of London has married Miss Elaine Spencer, 20, of Birmingham. The couple celebrated their union on February 14, 1944 at the chapel on his uncle Edward’s estate in Suffolk. The intimate ceremony was followed by a small reception of the couple’s closest friends and family. The new Mrs. Burns was thoughtful about her war-time wedding, taking extra steps to avoid unnecessary costs or supplies. She updated her mother’s wedding dress instead of buying new, and after the wedding, generously donated the gown to the Army. Her engagement ring was an heirloom of Mr. Burns’ family, but it didn’t stop there -

The article didn’t stop there, but Juliet did. She couldn’t read another word about Arthur’s wedding. In fact, she slammed the paper down on her desk. It rattled the teacup in its saucer to the side, but miraculously, nothing spilled. Huffing, and her article forgotten, Juliet folded her arms across her chest and stewed.

She couldn’t really say why it bothered her so much. She had moved on the same as him, but getting married? It hadn’t been that long. What could Arthur possibly know about this girl? For a girl she was at the tender age of twenty. Was that what irked her? That the girl was so young? No, it was fairly normal for an age gap like that, especially among their class.

Perhaps it was the class issue that was grating on her. Elaine Spencer was - to the Burns family - everything Juliet was not. Young, rich, well-behaved, and (though only Arthur knew this difference) able to bear children. Seeing their announcement, and the kind of wedding they could afford, was a rather harsh reminder of all that. But even that should not have been this upsetting.

Deep down, Juliet knew what was bothering her was that she was bothered at all. She was happy with Ron. So why did she care about her ex? Why did this feel like such a blow to her pride? Why did she feel as if Arthur had just terminated their engagement all over again? Wasn’t it enough to have Ron in her life, a man she truly respected and cared about?

That was something else to consider. Juliet realized she had wasted far too much time on someone who wasn’t half the man Ron was. And yet, Arthur had rejected her. If what she thought about him was true - that he was a coward and totally undeserving of her - shouldn’t it have been the other way around? She knew she felt shame for how much she had loved Arthur when she didn’t receive that love in return. Was that what got on her nerves about this?

She certainly was not jealous of the girl. Elaine. Juliet knew she absolutely did not want to be married to Arthur. In the long run, they could never make each other happy. Especially now that Juliet had experienced Ron, who truly appreciated what she had to give. She had to keep reminding herself of him or Arthur’s dumb face next to Elaine’s stunning smile would drive her crazy. And yet, she couldn’t stop looking at that picture. They looked so perfect.

Her door opened and she jumped a little bit out of her seat with a gasp. It was Ron, but that oddly made her more nervous. She perked up.

“Hi, honey!” she greeted brightly.

His brown knit together over his eyes. “Honey?”

“Yes, dear?” she returned.

“Seriously,” he frowned. “Why are you calling me that?”

“I haven’t before?”

“Obviously not.”

“You don’t like it?”

“Obviously not,” he repeated. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” she insisted. Then it was her turn to frown. “What endearments am I allowed?”

“Why do you need them, when my name works just fine?” he replied.

“Oh come on,” she said. “Not even darling?”

“Darling is meaningless here, you people call everyone darling,” he said.

She considered that. “Alright. ‘Love’, then?”

“No, thanks.”

“Baby?”

“No.”

“Dear?”

“No.”

“Sugar?”

“No.”

“Sweetheart?”

“No.”

She bit back a giggle for the last one. “Daddy?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“My heart belongs to Daddy,” she began to sing as she got to her feet and approached him. “So I simply couldn’t be bad -”

“That’s a little bit sick, coming from you,” he cut across her as he shrugged off his jacket.

She ignored him. “Yes, my heart belongs to Daddy! Da da da da -”

This time, he interrupted with a kiss. Juliet giggled into his mouth, but he was successful in stopping the song entirely. When they parted, she had a goofy grin on her lips.

“Are you absolutely certain we should disregard the genius of Cole Porter?” she teased.

“Let it go,” he returned.

“What are you gonna do?” she challenged, making her voice dramatically husky. “Spank me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

She blinked, taken aback by his casual reaction to such a suggestion, but she was also a little curious, so she decided to push the envelope. “You wouldn’t.”

“What’s the matter?” he questioned. “Afraid you’ll like it?”

Her mouth fell slightly agape. How had he managed to so drastically turn the tables on her? She was supposed to be teasing him and somehow, she ended up being the one flustered and red-faced. She cleared her throat and shook her head to remove the rather graphic images that had popped up inside it. All thoughts of Arthur were certainly out the window.

“I did not anticipate this backfiring,” she admitted.

“And yet, here you are,” he said.

“How tired are you from training?” she asked.

“Not too tired to make love to you, if that’s what you’re asking,” he answered.

“That’s the perfect amount,” she said.

With that, she tugged off her cardigan and pulled him in for another kiss, deep and deliberate, with a nip at his bottom lip to get him riled up. He lifted her into his arms and they fell on the bed together - her pinned beneath him as their lips remained locked.

Afterwards, as they dressed to get some dinner and Juliet was in the bathroom fixing her hair, Ron spotted the article. Suddenly, her behavior when he first walked in made sense. She’d distracted him with the endearments conversation, and he hoped he had distracted her from what she’d read. But his gut told him there was something more. He’d walked through that door every day without surprising her. There was a reason she had started and panicked this time. He picked up the newspaper, and looked hard at the photo - at the man who had humiliated Juliet, but ultimately paved the way for Ron’s own happiness with her.

Arthur was not much to look at, which was both surprising and expected. Surprising because well, Ron found Juliet to be very beautiful, and he knew she could do better. Expected because Juliet was not the sort of person to base a relationship on looks alone. Although she had certainly noticed Ron’s. But for the first time, that made him doubt. She told him once she was more upset by the indignity of what Arthur had done, but she must have really seen something in him to have agreed to marry him. And she talked so much about Ron’s looks, he started to wonder if that was all she saw in him.

He quickly dismissed that thought. She had been incredibly vulnerable with him and shared parts of her life he was certain she had shared with few others, perhaps not anyone. But something was holding her back from addressing this with him, and he wanted to know what.

“I reckon we can just pop downstairs and have something quick,” she said as she emerged from the bathroom and picked up her cardigan. “That way we won’t get too cold before we - y’know - warm back up again.”

He faced her, and caught the surprised look in her eye at his expression. Her smile drooped and faded as she realized what he held in his hand.

“Jules,” he said, voice heavy. “I want you to do something for me.”

“Sure,” she looked nervously between the paper and his face. “Anything, Ron, just -”

“Without one fucking joke, I want you tell me why you’re upset about this,” he said, indicating the paper, though she understood perfectly well what he meant.

She sighed. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Yes,” he said.

She waited for him to explain, but he didn’t. But he was not sacrificing his control of the conversation, he was solidifying it. She was going to explain herself to him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m annoyed at myself for letting it upset me at all,” she said. She met his gaze, searching his face for a reaction, but he didn’t give one. “I mean, yes, it’s a wound to my ego that by all rights that announcement should be about me and him. Although, I never would have gotten married on Valentine’s Day. Seriously, of all the cheesy -”

“No jokes,” he cut across her.

“That wasn’t a joke, it was a disparaging remark,” she returned.

“Juliet.”

“Sorry.”

She bit her lip, carefully forming how she wanted to say what was on her mind. But, it turned out he wasn’t giving her that either.

“Don’t think, just talk,” he instructed.

“I care about you so much,” she blurted out. “You make me happy in a way I hardly thought possible until I knew you. But seeing that announcement made me ache. It’s difficult to pin down why exactly since there are a number of things that bother me about it, but mostly it’s that it shouldn’t matter. I’ve moved on, haven’t I? But if that still hurts me, I’m worried that perhaps I haven’t, and that’s not fair to you or to me. And if that’s the case then perhaps I should let you go, but the thought of that makes me want to hurl myself out of a window. Then that makes me worried that no one will ever be enough for me. Which is ridiculous because you’re more than enough. You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met in your own weird way. So, that means there’s something terribly, terribly wrong with me.”

She stopped to take a deep breath and paused. She considered saying more, that was really the sum of her feelings. Ron stood there calmly.

“Can you talk now please?” she requested.

A hint of smirk tugged at one side of his mouth, but he stopped it.

“It’d bother me more if you didn’t care about this,” he replied, which made her brow wrinkle. “It’s okay to have feelings about someone you were involved with. Doesn’t mean you still have feelings for them.”

“You don’t think it’s a reflection of my feelings for you?” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” he said with a shrug.

She bit her lip. “I just...I just don’t think it would get to him if he saw my wedding announcement in the paper.”

“It would,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t know that, you didn’t know him.”

“I know you,” he said. “That’s enough to understand that there’s no way you didn’t have an impact on him.”

“That’s -” she began to argue but stopped herself as she absorbed it fully. “Well...that’s actually a lovely thing to say, thank you.”

He set the paper down and walked over to her, gathering her up in his arms so he could kiss her forehead.

“Don’t hide behind distractions when there’s something serious,” he said gently. “And don’t hurl yourself out a window, I had enough trouble with you on the bridge.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “You’ve lifted your moratorium on jokes, I see.”

He pecked her on the lips. “Nope, just for me.”

She repaid him with a light jab to his ribs with her pointer and middle fingers. “Shut up.”

On that note, they headed down to the bar for dinner and drinks. Though Juliet had mentioned wanting to return to her room quickly, they ended up lingering. Talking like they had when they first met. Juliet talked a little more about Arthur, and Ron gave her the space to do so. It didn’t last long. Slowly, he faded from the conversation and they moved on. Ron challenged her to a darts game, and Juliet readily accepted.

“I’ve never played before,” she confessed. “Well, actually, I almost did when I was seven or so. Dad took Billy and I to the pub with him and left us to our own devices.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Ron said.

She pressed on anyway. “We weren’t tall enough to reach the board, so Billy drew one on the wall we could use. The owner got upset and started shouting at him.”

“I really don’t like where this is going,” he said again.

“So, I stabbed him in the thigh with the dart,” she finished.

“Billy?”

“The pub guy.”

“Just checking.”

“Anyway, he starts screaming -”

“Billy?”

“Nope, still the pub guy,” she said. “He grabs me by my hair and starts dragging me out. That didn’t sit right with Billy, so he leaps onto the man’s back and starts punching him. Mind you, Billy was only about nine at the time, so he wasn’t the most effective.”

“I imagine not.”

“But of course Billy doesn’t care, he’s just looking out for me,” she continued. “So the guy lets go of me, and I grab him round the legs and trip him. Then Billy and I ran out of there as fast as we could, terrified about what Dad would do to us if he realized we’d caused the commotion. Luckily, he never found out.”

He blinked at her. “Honestly, I’m just impressed you stabbed a guy.”

“He yelled at my brother!” she returned. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Stab him, of course,” he said.

“That!” she cried. “Right there! That’s why we work so well together!”

She giggled into his mouth as he kissed her in agreement.

“C’mon, let’s play,” he said.

He showed her where to stand, how to hold the dart, and some tricks he used to get better aim. She was attentive to his coaching, and it certainly paid off. Each throw got her closer and closer to the bullseye. So much so, he considered tripping her on her last turn. He didn’t, since that would put her dart in rather close proximity to his thigh, and he was in no mood to get stabbed himself.

She took her shot, and to the surprise of Ron and a few onlookers, she hit the center of the dartboard. She punched the air with excitement and let out an enthusiastic scream before turning to face him, beaming with triumph.

“That’s right!” she bragged to anyone listening. “Juliet Fletcher is the darts champion!”

For a moment, Ron genuinely feared she was going to try and chest bump him, and he wasn’t sure there could be romance after that. To his relief, she did not. She did something far more embarrassing. In movements that could only be described as lost and awkward, she...danced. If one could even call it that. Her limbs jerked, her hips lacked any semblance of rhythm, and her feet sort of scraped across the floor. He watched in disbelief as she went about her celebration, completely unabashed.

“What’s the matter, Speirs?” she taunted. “Upset you lost to a girl?”

He wanted to laugh, but he was so disturbed it came out more of a grimace. “What...what are you doing?”

“Victory dance,” she returned simply. “Like footballers do.”

“No one has ever done anything like what you’re doing,” he said.

She came to a slow stop, a smirk on her face. “I told you I can’t dance.”

“I thought you meant the foxtrot.”

“Well, I can’t do that either.”

“I’d expect not.”

“Are you embarrassed?” she wondered.

“Aren’t you?” he shot back, though judging by her expression, she wasn’t.

“Nope,” she shook her head.

“Should be,” he said under his breath.

She ignored that little remark. “Life’s too short to stifle the joy of kicking your boyfriend’s ass in a game of darts.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’d hardly call that an ass kicking.”

“You wanna go again?” she dared him.

“God, no,” he replied quickly. “If you win, you’ll start dancing again.”

“So you admit it?”

“What?”

“You’re afraid I’ll win.”

“Yeah, but not for the reason you want.”

“Whatever,” she giggled. “I’m gonna get another drink, d’you want one?”

“Sure,” he said.

With a nod, she headed for the bar. She established fairly early on in their relationship that she was not the sort who wanted to be doted on. She had no problem sharing the responsibility of buying drinks or fetching said drinks. Ron rarely even pulled out her chair for her. Opening doors was different, as Juliet usually had a bag or something, but she never so much as suggested that Ron carry it for her. He once offered, but she told him she’d only allow it if she could tip him, which promptly ended the conversation.

“Hi, Juliet,” Emily, the bartender, said as she approached. “‘Nother round of whiskeys for you and Lieutenant Speirs?”

“Yes, please,” Juliet replied.

“Just a moment, I’ve got to bring some beers to the lads back there,” Emily said, pointing to the other end of the pub. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” Juliet assured her.

While she waited for Emily, a man approached the bar. A dark haired, tall, but mousy looking man Juliet had seen at the Blue Boar only a handful of times. He was usually alone and stayed for only one drink before leaving. She got the impression he was not solitary by choice - he was clearly unpopular. The other officers always gave the table a wide berth.

“Hi,” he said timidly.

It took her a moment to register he was speaking to her. “Oh! Hello, there.” She stole a glance at his rank and then his name. Sobel. She decided against trying to say it to avoid the risk of mispronouncing. Plus, she didn’t want him to think she was interested.

“My name’s Herbert,” he said. “Herbert Sobel.”

She studied his face for a moment. “Herbert, huh?”

He blinked, surprised. “Um. Yes.”

“Oh, yeah, Herbert absolutely suits you,” she said.

He was taken aback again. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Never mind,” she shook her head. “How can I help you, Herbert?”

“You could start with your name,” he replied.

She wrinkled her nose. “Eh. No, thanks.”

“What?”

“I’d rather not give you my name,” she said. “Because I’m afraid the follow up is going to be your asking for my phone number or offering to buy me a drink. So I reckon we’re better off if I get the ‘no’ out of the way now. Save us all some time.”

He sputtered for a moment before she went on.

“I know this must seem like contempt prior to investigation,” she said. “But even if I wanted to - which I don’t, mind you - I am involved with someone.”

“Wha - who?” he wondered.

“Lieutenant Speirs,” she said, and pointed him out for good measure.

Sobel glanced over just as Emily returned and began pouring the whiskeys.

“Well, isn’t Speirs lucky,” Sobel murmured.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Juliet said, taking their drinks. “I really am a horrid bitch, you wouldn’t like me anyway.” She held back a laugh as his eyes went wide. Emily covered her mouth to stifle her own giggle. “Cheers, Herb. And thanks, Emily.”

Emily asked a stricken Sobel what he wanted to drink while Juliet left. She returned to her seat next to Ron and delivered his whiskey. He wore a deep frown which told her he’d been watching her interaction with Sobel.

“What’d Captain Sobel want?” he asked, just a hint of bitterness to his voice.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I shot him down,” she replied.

“He hit on you?” he questioned, but his shoulders relaxed a little. “Must not have seen you dance.”

“Shut up!” she laughed, elbowing him.

He didn’t say anything in return, he only put his hand on her thigh, giving it a little squeeze. Something about it thrilled Juliet. It was...intensely macho. Possessive even. Normally things like that disgusted her, but Ron made it sexy. Only, she had to question it.

“Are you serious?” she said.

“About what?” he returned.

“You’re not bothered by my talking about my ex-fiancé, but a strange man offering to buy me a drink has you marking your territory?” she asked.

“I can’t help who you were with before we met,” he said. “I can do something about anyone getting ideas now.”

“What would you have done then?” she questioned playfully.

“Stab him with a dart,” he replied, without missing a beat.

She giggled before she sipped her drink. “You’re ridiculous.”

She wasn’t able to remain in Ron’s grasp long. Emily approached and told her there was a phone call for her. Juliet excused herself, but not before kissing Ron deeply.

“So the other girls don’t get any ideas either,” she teased.

“Fine by me,” he said.

With one more peck, she followed Emily behind the bar. She picked up the receiver and held it to her ear.

“Juliet Fletcher,” she said.

“Juliet, it’s Otis,” said the voice on the other end of the line.

“Oh, hello, Otis, how are you?” she replied politely. She got along with the investigator most out of all the people involved in Peggy Lee’s case.

“Quite well, thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry to call you so late, but I’ve just gotten the news that Meredith Fisher’s trial has been moved up. We begin on the fifteenth of March.”

“Crikey, that’s quick,” Juliet said.

“I know, but the prosecution is confident enough,” he told her.

Juliet was tempted to let him know they were absolutely right in their confidence with the way Meredith Fisher’s lawyer was going about things, but she held her tongue.

“That’s good,” she said. “I’ll be sure I’m there for the trial.”

“I’ll see you then,” he returned. “Good night, Juliet.”

“Good night,” she replied before hanging up.

She returned to Ron, who shot her a curious look.

“A trial date has been set for Meredith Fisher,” she said. “In just a couple weeks.”

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Damn right I am,” she said.

“That’s my girl.”

#band of brothers #ron speirs #juliet fletcher #roliet #hbo war #ron speirs x ofc #band of brothers fanfic #hbo war fanfiction #you better you better you bet series

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help-im-a-gay-fish · 3 years

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OK! THIS IS PROBABLY MY FAVOURITE FLUFFYNIGHTKILLER HEADCANNON I'VE COME UP WITH.

My people, I love this and I hope you do. Its a long one, but I promise its worth it.

So ever since I read this head cannon from @yuriyuruandyuraart I've had one nagging thought.

Polygamous marriage is illegal.

So as much as I loved this story of them getting engaged, they couldn't ever get married, but I didn't wanna rain on everyone's parade so I kept it to myself. Until now!

While talking with @jann-the-bean I came up with this and Jan loved it! So I hope you guys do to.

So imagine that the 3 of them are going around telling their friends and family about their engagement, in the classic happy kind of way. It's all well and good, Dream is thrilled to find out his brother is so happy. However, then he realises the law and Dream pulls his brother aside.

Dream "Uhh Night...Can I talk to you?"

Nightmare "yeah?"

Dream "I'm so happy that you got engaged brother.."

Nightmare "........."

Nightmare "but?"

Dream "but..... But isn't Polygamous marriage illegal?"

Nightmare "......."

And that was the glass shattering moment. Dream wasn't trying to be cruel or anything like that. He was just generally concerned that Nightmare hadn't thought of that.

So later that night, Nightmare brought it up to his partners and of course both of them where upset when they remembered that law. So began a long talk about what they could do. In the end Ccino mostly just said that it didn't matter to him if they were married, so long as they were together. Since he's still just a small city boy, he didn't really see that there was to much they could do, he was content to just maybe have a ceremony where they promise to be life partners, but not marry.

Nightmare and Killer on the other hand were not satisfied with that.

That Night, when Ccino was asleep the two got to talking. I like to think that over the years that Nightmare and Killer have become icons for the poly community, much like Elton Jon is one for the gay community. The two of them decided that they were going to use this to fight for the right to marry each other.

It started small. Posts on social media, comments in interviews. They started speaking out that they should be allowed to be wed. Because they loved each other and the law shouldn't stop them. There where online polls and campaigns as their fan base who had been a huge fan of the throuple started to back them up.

This is when Ccino became alerted to what they were doing. He was scared that they could damage their reputations and careers over this. He told them that he wasn't worth everything they were risking. That if they really wanted to get married, the two of them could and he'd just keep being their boyfriend.

They told him no and then lovingly told him to shut up and they would take care of it.

So began the start of a long legal battle, which all together spanned about 2 years. From when they first started talking about it online, to when the find judgment was made. They were denied.

In the end the court ruled that if polygamy was legalised, it would cause alot of issues. Its a taboo for a reason, and some people would just abuse it for their own gain.

Both Killer and Nightmare were heart broken. Ccino told them that he was so proud of them for trying and that he loved them more then ever. But Killer and Nightmare were still really upset.

This upset Ccino, because he'd seen how hard they had worked and as he thought over everything, he realised that he was actually irritated himself. In fact, he was a little angry. So now it was his turn to say No.

Ccino "you know what? No!"

Killer "what?"

Ccino "they said they couldn't legalise it because people would abuse the system"

Nightmare "yeah?"

Ccino "well I say No! That doesn't apply to us. You aren't some guy who wants a bunch of wives. We are 3 people who all love each other equally. We should have the right to marry"

Killer and nightmare "........"

Killer "we thought you said that you were ok with it"

Ccino "I'm not. Of course I'm not! I want to marry you both! "

So this prompted them to start a new campaign. If Polygamy couldn't be legalised for everyone, then they was campaign for the court to give the 3 of them legal right to marry. If a man could get the rights to marry himself (true story) and a women could be granted the right to marry a building (again, true story) then the 3 of them should be granted permission to marry.

So they took it back to court and this time Ccino took a more active roll in it, though Nightmare and Killer were more dominant. Ccino appeared with Nightmare and Killer in some interviews, but even if his mental health was much better at this point, he still couldn't fully handle all the pressure. But he put in a lot of work behind the scenes to help his partners in the case.

They Luckily still had the support of the public. They argued that they didn't want to abuse the system, they didn't want to have the bunch or wives or a bunch of husbands. They were 3 people who all loved each other deeply and just wanted to be married to each other.

Imagine the judge in court asking them why they wanted to make it legal to marry Ccino and why they couldn't just date him. And Killer just stands up like.

"dude have you seen him!? Who wouldn't want to make that fluffy marshmallow their husband?"

Then as Jan said this leaves poor Ccino (who is sat next to him) just a blushing mess and he says “Killer, don’t be so loud it’s embarrassing..”

Meanwhile, nightmare staring the judge dead in the eyes.

“I agree he’s to adorable not to marry, I mean if we don’t marry him someone else may try to steal him. And I refuse to let that happen”

(thanks for these ideas Jan)

After another 2 years or so of fighting for it. After all the public backing and the long process. Killer, Nightmare and Ccino are finally granted the right to marry.

Just imagine Nightmare trying to keep composed in court, though his having a little party in his head, and Killer on the other hand just stand on his table in court like.

"yes! Ha!"

Then he points at Ccino "guess what fluffy buns! We are marrying you!"

Ccino is so shocked, but he's also so happy. He truly never would have dreamt of this happening.

The moment that Nightmare, Killer are handed over the legal documents, they don't waste a moment, they grab Ccino and jump straight into their car. Then they drive straight to Las Vegas to elope not stopping to change or pack any clothes or anything, because they don't want to wait a second longer.

Of course Ccino gets super flustered at their suggestion to elope.

Ccino "get m-married right now!? But don't you want to wait? And have some big celebrity wedding? You mentioned it before"

Nightmare "nope"

Killer "we've been engaged for over 4 years, we want to put a ring on it right now!"

Nightmare "we don't need a big wedding, or all that stuff. We just need you to say I do"

Nightmare and Killer "so... Will you?"

Ccino "......"

Ccino "YES!"

(though maybe they stopped to pick up dream on the way. Nightmare probably knows that Dream would kill him if he missed his wedding.)

So the 3 were married in a small Chapel. Nothing fancy, but for them it was perfect. They all agreed that they would probably host a proper reception and ceremony for their friends and family to attend later. But for now, they didn't need that, they just needed to be married. It was a very small simple thing.

They probably stayed in a Vegas hotel that night. Probably had some time to celebrate. I just imagine Killer waking the two of them up the next morning with breakfast he'd ordered like:

"Good morning Husbands"

And he just can't keep the smile off his face.

About a year later they have a more formal ceremony. Which of course is super fun. But for them it doesn't change that fact that their actual wedding was truly perfect.

And dam I just love those 3. Jan was the one who wanted me to share this with you guys and I really hope you like it as much as me.

Dam it Dream XD

BTW, I know this most likely isn't fully realistic to what the legal system is like, but give me a break. I’m not a lawyer, I’m a shipper. Its fiction, just let me have it.

studio verse by @zu-is-here

original nightmare by jokublog

original killer by rahafwabas

original ccino by black-nyanko

Oh and @kotikaleo I'm sorry I forgot to tag you! You always as to be tagged in this stuff. Sorry idk if you saw it

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imgonnagetkilledbynutstink · 2 years

Text

Patient Is The Night

Chapter 1

pairing: Jake Kiszka x Danny Wagner

Rating: none (there may be some inappropriate themes later on but im not counting on it)

Warnings: none

Summary: Josh gets married and is about to move out, Jake is attempting to emotionally prepare himself

Notes: the fic is named after Patient Is The Night by The Blasting Company. I just thought it sounded cute and romantic, its bot really tied to the plot much. Also theres no actual romance or anything in this chapter, its mostly just kicking off the actual story

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jake is standing anxiously at the alter. He stands to the side next to Sam and Danny. Danny is sobbing his eyes out of course and rge ceremony hasnt even started. Jake is to... cluttered... to cry. He sees Ronnie sitting in the front row. He makes eye contact with her briefly which is more then enough for her to understanding how much his brain is racing. When Josh and his soon to be spouse start walking down the isle, Jake feels like he should be crying but isnt.

He feels that heavy soreness in his throat that he always does while/before crying. He feels guilty for not crying. Josh looks amazing and so so happy. Jake has no idea how he feels. Change has never come easy to him and he knew this would change a lot. His mind was very stuck on what wouldnt be the same anymore. Like Josh no longer living with him, the house being loud and slightly cluttered, being able to go into his room at 3:00 am to cry and talk to him about whatever it was he needed too.

The thought made him so anxious. It almost made him want to cry more then the scene playing out in front of him. He was so lost in his own head that the ceremony was over before he even realized. When he came too, Josh and his spouse where already heading out to take pictures before the after party. Sam was rubbing Danny's back consolingly who, of course, was still sobbing his eyes out. When people started making their way to the other building, Ronnie stopped Jake and held him behind everyone.

"Are you okay?" She whispers. He whimpers slightly and lands his head in her shoulder. Then, he cries. He didnt want to start crying before cause even thought most else wouldn't know, he would know it wasnt genuine. Well, maybe not that it wasnt genuine, but that he wasnt crying for the reasons everyone else was. He hated that. He was so mad at himself for not crying in joy fir his brother. He deserved that. Ronnie didnt judge him though. She rubbed his back gently and held him tight. She wanted to say something consoling to him to make him feel better and less alone but the truth was, she didnt know how he felt.

Jake had always been with Josh. When they moved into their first apartment together was the first time they even had seperate rooms. They hardly went to the store without each other simply cause it was easier to go together. Jake felt safe and secure with Josh cause he knew hed always be there and listen to him whenever he needed it but thats not true anymore and that sense of saftey is gone.

Jake knew he could always call josh or come over but it was nowhere near the same. He missed Josh already. Ronnie and Jake where now alone in the chapel. Eventually Jake's cries get quiter. "I know its hard, but for now how about you just try to have a good time at the party. Im sure Josh is missing you already" Ronnie says softly. Jake nods and wipes away his tears.

The two make their way out of the chapel and head to the party. Jake was doing his best to make sure Josh wouldn't know he was crying, but it wasnt any use. His nose and cheeks where pink and his eyelashes where wet. And hell, even if he didnt look like he had just cried, Josh would know anyways. He always does. Thats another thing Jake will miss having all the time. Josh just knowing when Jake needs help by just looking at him. Ronnie and Jake make their way into the building. The music is fairly loud and people are getting food. He heads off to find Danny and Sam. He and them have a seat at the special people table cause they where groomsmen.

He gets some food and sits next to Dan. Crying makes him hungry. He and Josh had already talked about Jake giving a speech. Josh said that of course he was okay with Jake not wanting to. Despite him being okay on stage, Jake was never great with people and felt much more anxious around his family then strangers. He was extremely grateful for that agreement cause now hes bot sure how much talking he'll be doing for the rest of the day. Everyone else is talking and coming up to the table to congratulate the new couple. Danny has stopped crying and Jake doesn't know if Sam was ever crying to begin with.

When Josh and his partner go to have their first dance, Jake feels overwhelmed. Not just by that but by everything else. The music, the people talking and singing along, the lights amd the rattling of dishes and silverware, all of it out together was to much. Without fully thinking it through, Jake gets up and walks out to his car and heads home. He just needed quiet, and maybe tonight being alone is better anyways.

Taglist: @tripthelight-fanfic @theweightofstardust @goodpointsandbadpoints @asthedaysgobythesun @teddiie

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #jake kiszka x danny wagner #gvf fic #fanfiction #writing

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sofwrites · 3 years

Text

I Do (Again)

The last of the eight Bridgerton weddings.

Written in honor of the beautiful and lovely @jake-amy 💛

Themes: fluff, family, light angst, blatant sentimentalism, Bridgertons being Bridgertons

Length: 4.5k

ao3 link | masterlist | read under the cut if you want!

“Well, then you’ll never wake him up.”

“Why don’t we dump some water on him and get it over and done with?”

“Hm, I think there’s a mug right-”

“Oh, bloody- Gregory, wake up!”

“Agh!”

The previously sound-asleep gentleman bolted into an upright position as a hand roughly shook his shoulder. With a low moan, he squinted into the darkness, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light. When they did, and he could clearly see the three silhouettes in front of him, he groaned.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Colin quipped, a huge, aggravating grin plastered to his face.

“Congratulations on the big day,” said Benedict.

Anthony nodded his agreement, lips perked up into a smirk. “Have a good sleep?”

Gregory looked towards the window, seeing dim orange light spilling into the room. “What time is it?” he asked, his voice still gruff with sleep.

“Mmm,” Anthony glanced at his pocket watch. “Quarter to six.”

The youngest brother stared at him, then back at the window, then back to the three wide-awake idiots standing before him. He then blinked several times before letting out a long sigh. “And why, pray tell, have you woken me up before sunrise?”

Colin stepped closer to him, grin widening as the other two looked to him to answer. All of them were practically bouncing with excitement. “Why, it is your wedding day, is it not?”

Gregory let out another tired breath, slumping down against his headboard. “It is.”

“Which means that it is Lucy’s wedding day as well, is it not?”

There was a beat of hesitation before Gregory flatly repeated, “It is.”

Colin nodded thoughtfully. “So, I thought that we’d continue our tradition, and, of course, wanted to give Anthony and Benedict the chance to join us in such brotherly bonding.”

Benedict leaned over to give him a heavy pat on the back, a lopsided smile so irritatingly placed on his lips that Gregory had the urge to knock it off. Meanwhile, Anthony’s smirk only grew as he gave him a solemn nod.

“Our tradition?” There was a small crack in his voice as he said it, dread washing over him as he looked between their disturbingly cheery faces.

This time, all three of them grinned and looked at each other for a moment before nodding simultaneously. And just a few seconds later, Gregory’s arms and legs were met by six hands, all hoisting him up and out of his bed with frightening swiftness.

There was a cry and some rather foul language grumbled, as well as some hearty laughter, but soon enough, Gregory had been pushed into the washroom, put into his wedding attire, and then placed into a carriage on its way to Fennsworth House.

“We aren’t really doing this, right?” he asked, still a meager smidgen of hope left within the youngest man.

“Oh,” Benedict laughed, one leg eagerly bouncing on his other knee. “We’re doing this.”

“We could have walked instead of taking the carriage, of course, but I’m afraid poor Anthony’s a bit old for all of that,” Colin teased, giving his older brother a nudge.

Anthony gave him a deadpanned look in return but simply shook his head. “I’m too old for your nonsense, that much is true, at least.”

“I really can’t believe this,” Gregory muttered, crossing his arms. “You’ve all really done this. And on my wedding da...” But he trailed off as his mouth curved into a small smile.

It was his wedding day.

Wedding. Day.

Him. Gregory.

And Lucy. His Lucy.

Lucy Lucy Lucy.

They were getting married.

In just about six hours, they would be married. And she would really and truly be his Lucy.

Gregory was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice his three brothers exchanging amused looks and prideful grins. All he could think about was Lucy, and how beautiful she was going to look, and how happy they were going to be.

When they arrived minutes later, the four Bridgerton brothers climbed up, by order of youngest to eldest, in the very same tree Gregory and Colin had sat in just a few weeks ago.

Once they were settled and decently comfortable, Gregory glanced at them reluctantly. “... We aren’t really going to sit here until Lucy leaves, right? Isn’t it bad luck for me to see the bride anyhow?”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ve planned for that,” Benedict smiled, patting him on the knee in a mock-reassuring manner. “We’ll push you off and you’ll hide behind the tree until she’s out of sight.”

Gregory looked at him blankly, waiting for a laugh, but it was clear that none of his brothers were joking. In fact, Colin even brought out the bag Gregory hadn’t noticed him bringing and removed an impressive assortment of sandwiches, fruits, and cheese from it. When he noticed his younger brother gaping at him, he, taking a bite of the first sandwich before handing off the bag to Anthony, shrugged. “I certainly wasn’t going to come unprepared this time.”

“I think it’s rather nice,” Benedict said, biting into an apple. “Your last morning as a single man, spent with your three older brothers.”

And although Gregory murmured something like, “We could have gone to the club instead,” there was something surprisingly sentimental about it all, and it seemed to hang in the air for a few moments. There were no sounds other than those of the birds chirping, carriages riding down the road, and four men chewing on their makeship breakfast.

Finally, Anthony cleared his throat. “Now, Gregory. Is there anything you’d wish to know about marriage?”

There was a pause, during which everyone’s minds went to the most wicked of places. Gregory looked at him with a small smile, his neck tinging red, while Colin and Benedict both snorted.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Anthony groaned, rolling his eyes, but no one missed the quirk of his lips.

They spent the remaining hours watching the sunrise and talking, sharing stories and jokes and “marital advice” (some of which Gregory stored away and some of which he knew was utterly useless). It was a bit surreal, in all truth. His three older brothers had always been lumped together, the notorious A, B, and C, whereas he’d always been at the end of the row, happy with his lot but separated all the same.

But that morning, he just felt like ‘one of the Bridgerton men’. It was as if he’d finally crossed from boy into man and was truly a part of them now.

Anthony, Benedict, and Colin, in the meantime, also took notice of how much their little brother had grown, shaping up to be another one of them. They’d all watched him transform from infant into man, but it was only that morning that they’d really noticed it.

The last of the Bridgerton siblings was getting married. A new part of life was truly beginning.

The food had disappeared long before the doors to Fennsworth House opened and servants began bustling out, but the excitement hadn’t stopped. And true to their word, the three older brothers pushed the youngest out of the tree once he’d made it onto the lowest branch, forcing him to stand behind the tree, facing away from the house and his bride.

It was then, while Gregory was standing with his back against the tree and listening for a specific voice, that fear materialized. He’d been distracted thoroughly enough by his brothers throughout the morning for his anxieties to hide away, but then, it was like he was almost alone. And suddenly, he pictured it. Servants exiting the doors, followed by Robert and Hermione, and then-

And then no Lucy.

Robert and Hermione showing up at the church alone, wearing somber expressions and pitying glances.

“She’s not coming,” Hermione would say, her voice soft and condoling.

She wouldn’t marry him. She’d reconsidered and realized that it wasn’t right- that she was making a mistake.

Gregory roughly shook his head, forcing his eyes shut. He was being stupid, he knew that. Lucy had done nothing to make him feel as though she didn’t love him as much as he loved her. She wanted to marry him just as much as he wanted to marry her, there was nothing he was more certain about in his entire being.

But he’d been there, just a few weeks ago, sitting and waiting for her to come out. And then she had, wearing a wedding dress and a smile on her face, absolutely no intention of calling off the wedding.

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself, just quietly enough so that none of his brothers heard.

He heard voices, ones that did nothing to reassure the groom’s failing nerves. He didn’t dare turn around nor look at his brothers, hearing little more than the sound of his beating heart.

But then there was something else.

Among the voices came a giggle, one that was giddy and lovely and made his heart sore like nothing else in the world ever could.

“Please, I don’t want to be late!” he heard Lucy say- his Lucy, her voice filled with joy and just the slightest hint of exasperation.

“She looks lovely, Greg,” Benedict said, the smile clear and bright in his voice.

“Yeah?” Gregory asked, his voice sounding so relieved that all of his brothers caught it.

Anthony, who was closest to him, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “She really does.”

“Happy as well,” Colin added, grinning down at him.

And with that, Gregory let out a great breath, relaxing back into the tree. “It’s a fine day for a wedding, I think.”

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It was more modest than her first.

With the rush of the wedding, the decorations proved to be fair but sparse, the gown was pretty but not magnificent, and the chapel was nice but not breathtaking.

But it was better.

So, so much better.

Because the smile on Lucy’s face was so genuine and contented that it made her radiant.

They were in a small back room of the church, Lucy sitting serenely in a chair while Hermione flitted about and doted on her, doing little fixes to the bride’s hair and fluffing out her skirts whenever she saw fit. Every now and again, she’d look up at Lucy and give her a smile so beaming that it was almost overwhelming. “I don’t think there’s ever been a more beautiful bride,” her friend said, reaching up to squeeze her hand.

“Not since your wedding I think,” Lucy said before her lips pinched and her voice weakened, “Or mine, I suppose.”

Hermione tutted softly, standing up to fidget with Lucy’s veil. “Stop that, Luce,” she cooed, “none of that was your fault.”

Lucy glanced at her in the reflection before sighing. “Sorry,” she muttered.

Her maid of honor gave her a thoughtful look, but a knock came and the door opened before either could say anymore.

“I just wanted to take a peek at our blushing bride,” Kate said, affection bursting from her as she smiled at Lucy. “You look gorgeous,” she gushed. “The blue really brings out your eyes, you know?”

She gave her a tiny smile and a wobbly nod, knowing that it was too early in the day for any tears. “Thank you, Kate. Is everyone ready?”

And though she hadn’t meant for it, there was a hint of hesitation in her question, one that Lucy desperately wished didn’t exist. Despite knowing that it was ridiculous, a small part of her was terrified that it really was all too good to be true. That it wasn’t possible for her to really be this happy- that it wasn’t possible for her to get the life she’d only recently realized she wanted.

She hadn’t noticed that she’d tensed up until Kate’s hand met her shoulder, giving her a silent, reassuring squeeze.

Her smile was warm and happy as she answered, “They’re all in there eagerly awaiting you.”

Lucy let out a breath and nodded, relief flooding over her. Her lips curved upwards, and then, with a bit of irony, she asked, “Even Hyacinth?”

Kate laughed, giving her hand a light pat. “She’s not smiting the entire thing, which I think is good progress.”

The bride let out a small laugh and shrugged. She couldn’t really blame her future sister-in-law for the hostility, knowing that it’d be matched had the roles been reversed. Still, Lucy did hope that they’d be friends one day, at least ones close enough for holidays to be pleasant.

“Now, are you ready?” Kate asked, and Lucy blinked at her several times before her face took on a peaceful smile.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything in my life,” she said, absolutely sure in her answer.

She loved Gregory in the way that she had spent most of her life believing didn’t exist. She loved him in all the romantic ways poets wrote about, enchanting ways musicians played about, and impossible ways dreamers talked about.

It was unbelievable how lovely life could be with love.

So, yes, she was ready to marry him as long as he was ready to have her.

Kate squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad for you both, Lucy, I truly am. And I’m so glad to be able to call you family, as well.”

This time, Lucy had to blink to rid away the tears stinging the back of her eyes. “Thank you, Kate,” was all she could manage, her voice cracking on the word.

Kate smiled once again and nodded before ducking out of the room to take her seat in the chapel. And then it was time for Lucy and Hermione to make their way, meeting Richard as he waited for them.

He pecked his wife before turning to his sister with a merry smile. “A true vision in blue, Luce.”

She nodded at him as Hermione handed her a bouquet- delphiniums, ones that had been partially ruffled in the transport. It was absolutely different from the bouquet for her first wedding, which had featured perfect white and pink roses and peonies.

Lucy wouldn’t have traded her bouquet of delphiniums for all the money in the world.

She ran a petal between her fingers before she looked up, catching Hermione staring at her with her great big green eyes. “What is it?”

Her friend shook her head, wearing a smile so bright and soft that Lucy almost wondered if it was her wedding day instead. “You just- you look happy.” Hermione then sniffed rather uncharacteristically, “No one deserves this more than you, Lucy.”

And then she blew her a kiss and disappeared into the church, leaving brother and sister alone in the hall. Richard let out a quick breath before offering her his arm, his smile a bit sadder than that of his wife’s.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, worry sounding in her voice.

Her older brother looked down at her, lips pinching together. “I’m so sorry, Lucy.”

Her brows creased in concern and the hold on his arm tightened. “For what?”

He paused for a moment, his eyes moving across her face slowly. “For not stopping you last time. For knowing that you were unhappy and still letting you go through with it.”

“Rich, you didn’t know-” she started, but he hushed her softly.

“I may not have known everything, but I know you, and I should have realized. I haven’t always been a great brother to you- no, don’t try to deny it- but I’m going to try harder now. Now that I’ve seen you when you’re really happy, I never want to see you any less again.”

Lucy’s lip quivered, but still, no tears fell from her eyes. He smiled at her, wondering when in the world his baby sister had become so grown.

“Now, I believe that it’s your turn,” he said, giving her a pat on the hand. “Shall we?”

She chuckled and nodded. “I’d like nothing else.”

And then they entered the main hall of the small church, and Lucy’s heart instantly fluttered.

She didn’t look at him, not yet, for she was sure she might burst from joy and have to race down the rest of the aisle. So, she looked towards the guests, feeling an unfamiliar warmth wash over her. She had a small family and even fewer friends, and she’d expected her meager list of Hermione and her mother to be overwhelmed by Gregory’s never-ending family.

But the Bridgertons were a different sort of people she was beginning to learn, and they’d done something she hadn’t even considered.

They’d split themselves down the middle, giving her side just as much support as Gregory’s.

It was worth more to Lucy than a thousand prime ministers.

She blinked as she walked down, nodding politely to her newfound family and friends. Her eyes were dying to move- to see the one person she cared for most in the entire room- the entire planet, really.

And then she did it, and the symphony in her mind roared with all its might.

Gregory looked only at her, wearing a grin so bright and so large that it took up half of his face. There she was, in all her glory and wisdom, walking down the aisle to meet him.

He had no idea how he’d missed it when they’d met- how he’d been blinded from just how radiant and splendid and dazzling she was. She was like a tide coming in, subtle at first, but then so overpowering and all-consuming that one wondered how it had gotten there without notice.

God- he loved her so damned much that he was imagining poetry in her honor.

As far as he was concerned, there was no one else in the world as Lucy took the steps toward him, matching his smile with one that made her look even more beautiful than he thought humanly possible. And when she finally made it to him, it took all his strength not to take her into his arms right then and there.

He felt it though, behind her loving eyes and happy smile, the worry that held her. He saw it in her lips- though upturned, tight and burdened.

He smiled and leaned in just a few inches. “How many steps did it take to get to the altar?” he whispered as the priest readied himself.

Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise, but her mouth formed a bashful little smile after a moment. “Twenty-six,” she said, a small, eased sigh escaping her.

He nodded and gave her a small wink before turning back towards the priest.

Throughout the ceremony, though the couple exchanged adoring smiles and loving looks, they remained relatively composed. There were no tears or blubbers, no stutters or stammers.

That was, until the “I do’s”, when both bride and groom forgot their past and thought only of the future, and the tears freely flowed. (And trust that they were nowhere near alone in their reactions- for even Anthony Bridgerton was seen subtly dabbing at his eye with a handkerchief.)

And then it was all sealed with one perfect and loving kiss.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Lucy, Lucy, Lucy,” Gregory said in the bridal carriage as they rode to Bridgerton House, making her name sound as though it were a serenade.

“Gregory,” she whispered, staring at him with the sparkling smile that seemed to be permanently resting on her lips. “I can’t believe this is real.”

He grinned, “No annulment then, I hope?”

She giggled (actually giggled) with delight. “I don’t even think that would be possible at this point.”

“Fantastic, you’re stuck with me then,” Gregory said, pecking her cheek.

“Or you’re stuck with me,” she pointed out, a blush (my word- who was she becoming?) spreading across her cheeks.

“We’re married now, and Benedict told me that marriage requires compromise. So, then, can we agree to disagree, Lady Lucy Bridgerton?”

She laughed softly and nodded as he brought her hand to his lips. “I can agree, Mr. Gregory Bridgerton.”

“I love you, Lucy,” he said, pulling her close to settle themselves against each other.

“I love you, Gregory,” she whispered, laying a soft kiss on his jaw.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The reception, though planned hastily and kept simple, was elegant and lovely, made all the better by the enamored couple and their merry guests. Lunch consisted of foods poised for enjoyment rather than impressions, which proved overly splendid for the group. The newlyweds laughed and smiled over their own favorites- down to the delicious ham sandwiches provided by Anthony and Kate’s kitchen staff.

Cake and sweets following seemed to animate every child in the room (of whom there were many- far more than even dear Lucy could count), and soon enough, everyone was out of their seats and the happy couple had taken their place on the dancefloor.

“Have I told you how marvelous of a dancer you are?” Gregory asked as he twirled her around the room, feeling perfectly in place as he held her in his arms.

She beamed at him, seeming to cherish every word he said more and more. “Maybe, but I will never tire of hearing it.”

He grinned. “I love you, Lucy.”

She smiled. “I love you, Gregory.”

And he loved her when she left his side to comfort one of his nephews who had stubbed his toe on a chair. He loved her so much as she knelt down to meet little William without even a second’s thought about her dress, giving him her greatest smile and managing to say just the right thing to make the boy giggle and hug his new Aunt Lucy.

She loved him when he went to whisper something to Hermione, causing her to blush crimson and adamantly shake her head. But after a few more seconds, Gregory ultimately said the right thing, for her best friend gave him a conceding nod and took Richard’s hand, leading him to the dancefloor. She loved him so much when he laughed in her ear, watching Hermione struggle along with the steps but giggling and enjoying herself all the same.

The room was filled with so much love and happiness that it enveloped the very air, leaving nothing but merriment and contented sighs in it.

It seemed that every guest in the ballroom wanted to wish the happy couple their congratulations, sharing love and kind words.

Anthony and Kate looked onto the pair as if proud parents, promising that they would be around to support them however they required, and Anthony gave Gregory a handshake that was worth more to him than a thousand words.

Benedict and Sophie met them with hugs and an open invitation to My Cottage whenever they so desired, gushing at the infatuated pair. “I don’t think there’s a couple half as perfect,” Sophie whispered in their ears.

Colin and Penelope extended teasing smiles and knowing looks, reassuring them that their doors were free to use whenever needed. “I can respect anyone who enjoys a good kipper as much as I do,” Colin announced loudly to the slight mortification of both women.

Daphne and Simon granted them hearty felicitations, wishing a lifetime of happiness and kind hearts to the newlyweds in addition to their unyielding loyalty. “I’m always happy to extend the privacy of my dressing room,” Daphne said with a wink, causing Lucy to gape at her. “Secrets don’t last very long in this family,” Simon muttered to her before following behind his wife.

Eloise and Phillip gifted them lifelong encouragement and true disbelief at how perfect of a couple they were. “I swear you were in nappies yesterday,” Eloise said, shaking her head incredulously as she gave her baby brother a hug.

Francesca and Michael wished them love and unbreakable attachment, along with an offer to visit Kilmartin whenever England proved to be too tiresome. “Oh, you’ll see,” Francesca added as Michael laughed and gave a little shrug of agreement.

Hyacinth and Gareth offered mixed wishes- the former vowed her undying devotion (while watching Lucy with a rather harsh look), while the latter just chuckled, giving them both a pleasant smile and good tidings. “I’m sure we’ll all be great friends,” was Gareth’s final word before he pulled his wife to the dancefloor.

The little ones (those who were grown enough) came forth as well, led by Lucy’s newfound greatest fan, William. Caroline, in particular, took an immediate liking to her as well after the bride let out an endearing (and rather loud) snort. “Auntie Lucy!” she giggled, giving the new family member a tight hug.

And then, finally, it was time for the last of the Bridgerton brood to come forth, having waited her turn patiently that entire afternoon.

“My darling boy,” Violet cooed as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. She beamed at him, bestowing onto him with the warmth only a good mother can truly provide.

It made Lucy long for the mother she’d never really known, for the care and kindness that Gregory had grown up receiving. Her heart fell for a moment but rose just as quickly as Violet turned to her, and she realized that there was no reason for her to long anymore. The smile she was given was just as sweet as the one gifted to her own son. “And my darling new daughter.”

Though they’d begun with a rocky start, Violet’s kindness couldn’t be helped once she truly met the lovely girl in front of her. No family except for a brother, with late parents and an estranged (and partially deranged) uncle. No one there to offer her the love she needed.

And it only took one glance of Violet seeing the love Lucy bestowed onto Gregory for her to love her as well.

“I’m so pleased to see you two together,” she said, taking the bride’s hand and squeezing it with affection. “To the life you’ll build, and the children you’ll have, and to the love you’ll share.”

And with that, she kissed them both on the cheeks, eyes shining as she was whisked away by a grandchild.

Gregory turned to his new wife and was delightfully surprised to see her eyes brimming with tears. He smiled, taking her hand and pressing a slow kiss to it.

She looked at him through her own wobbly smile, reaching up to flatten his brow with her thumb. “I almost wish that this day could never end."

He raised a brow, a small smile playing on his lips. “Do my ears betray me or is Lady Lucina Abernathy being sentimental?”

“Oh, heavens no,” she shook her head resolutely, though her watery chuckle betrayed her. She looked at him with a sideways smile. “But I have a feeling that Lady Lucy Bridgerton might be an idealist.”

“I hope so,” Gregory said, his own wet eyes matching hers as he wrapped both arms around her, “because I certainly believe in happy endings.”

#bridgerton fic #my fic #grucy #grecy #gregory bridgerton #lucy abernathy #okay so we got!#absolutelyinlove!grucy #stressed!gregory #worried!lucy #annoyingolderbrothers!ABC #perfectSIL!Kate #perfectMIL!Violet #lucy getting everything she deserves in life!#gregory and lucy the happiest couple in london/the world!#also hi leah #I hope you enjoy this

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Everywhere I’m Goin’ - JJ Maybank

Request: Can i request jjxreader where reader leaves obx one day and leaves jj a note and he is distraught about it but then she comes back after 2 days and he’s really angry at her at first but then he gets emotional and its loveyedovey? :) Your writing is really good

A/N: I lengthened the time apart to a year instead of two days.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“She said she’d be here.” JJ piped up, checking his phone again. There were no texts from you. In fact, no one had heard from you since yesterday when you abruptly announced you had to leave in the middle of hanging out at the Chateau. When you were halfway out the door he had reminded you about going out on the Pogue and you’d said that you’d see him.

Except it was twenty minutes passed when they agreed to go out and you still weren’t at John B’s.

“She’s not here though, is she?” John B replied, making a point of looking around at the group of them.

You had been friends with the group since, forever, but you were always a little more removed. Never someone they hung out with individually or thought of first, you always felt a little like an outsider. You got to go along and observe but you weren’t ‘one of them’. JJ would be the first one to deny that claim and say that you were just as close with him as Pope or John B but you knew it was true. You just weren’t their first pick.

“Well I’m going to check on her.”

“Dude, JJ!” John B shouted as JJ started to walk toward the road. “Can we just go? We’ll stop by later!”

“Fine.”

Despite Kiara trying to calm JJ down and distract him from you being absent it was all he could think about. He kept checking his phone to see if you had texted but there were never messages. Even though you felt like you were on the outside of their group you had always been a constant and you being missing was sending JJ into a mild panic.

When John B finally docked back at the Chateau at the end of the day, JJ was the first one off the boat. He headed straight for Kiara’s SUV, her following him close behind. She had promised to drive him over to your house when they got back to John B’s. His knee bobbed uncontrollably as they drove and when she pulled into your driveway, he was out the door immediately.

The first thing he saw was the For Sale sign in your front yard. He raked his brain to try and think whether you had mentioned anything about your parents selling your house but he couldn’t think of it.

“Did she say she was moving?” JJ asked Kiara, sounding desperate as he walked up the porch to try the door.

“No she didn’t mention it to me.” Kiara said, shaking her head as she watched JJ go around to the back of the house. She looked around the yard, walking over toward the mailbox. The red flag was up and she opened the flap to look inside, pulling an envelope out. The word Pogues was written across it and she frowned, flipping it over to pull out two letters, one addressed to all of them and one just addressed to JJ.

“JJ!” Kiara called, “there’s a letter!”

“What?” The blond came back around the side of the house, boots hitting the pavement as he came over to check the letter, she was holding up for him. He swiped it out of her hand, tearing it open to read it. Kiara watched as he dropped onto the grass to sit and read the letter that you had left in the mailbox for him. She scanned over the one you’d written for everyone while JJ sat there in silence.

“What did she say?” Kiara asked. You’d written that your mom was getting married and you were moving in with your dad in Chapel Hill. Or that you had moved in.

“She’s gone.” JJ said, staring at the paper, “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

There was more to your letter for him. You confessed that you’d always felt on the outside of the group, never quite as close to any of them as they were to each other. But also, that you had a crush on him. One you’d had since you were in middle school. Twelve-year-old you had only started hanging out with them because of your crush on JJ. But you knew it was unrequited and you knew that you might not see him again so you felt okay telling him.

After that he tried to text you a few times and he even called a handful of times as well. You had blocked them all from your social media, trying the ‘fresh start’ thing for the first time in your life. Despite only being three hours away from the island you figured the chances of ever seeing them again were slim to none.

The universe had a funny way of working though and your mom, who had moved to Figure Eight after she got married, had a baby a year later. Seventeen years apart from your new sibling, the last thing you truly wanted to do was return to the Outer Banks but you did. At least, hopefully, on the Eight for a weekend you wouldn’t see anyone you knew.

“Oh my god,” except you did.

Your mom ordered groceries from Heyward’s without mentioning it to you and it was JJ who walked through the open kitchen door, setting the bags on the island before he realized what he was looking at. You, standing there at the refrigerator.

“JJ-”

“What the fuck...you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” JJ cursed, stepping back and running a hand through his hair, a little darker than it used to be. He shook his head in disbelief, eyes wide.

“JJ I-”

“No...you cannot possibly have any kind of explanation.” He said.

“Please-” You moved toward him but he backed away.

“Stay the fuck away from me. You’re nothing but a fucking liar.”

“I didn’t lie, I-”

“You said you were leaving...without even fucking saying goodbye! And now here you are fucking hanging around the Eight like it’s no big deal!” He almost shouted, “I tried to call you...I...I sent you so many texts and you never answered!”

“I’m sorry...I-”

“No.” He shook his head, backing toward the door and holding his hand out to keep you away from him. “No.” He repeated.

You watched him run out the door, something in your mind clicking as he passed through the threshold. You couldn’t walk away again, letting things just dissolve. It’d caused you a world of grief and it was clear from JJ’s behavior that you weren’t the only one that you’d hurt.

“JJ!” You ran out the door after him, following him down to the jetty. You saw Pope stand up in surprise, looking at you with shock but you were focused on JJ. He stopped, back to you, and you watched as he ran his hand through his hair again, tilting his head forward as his shoulders sunk.

He turned back to look at you, eyes red, “what are you doing here?”

“My mom had a baby.”

“Why did you leave?” He asked.

“I had-”

“No, why did you leave us? Me? We had a good thing going and then you’re just gone? With a fucking note in the mailbox like I’m supposed to not give a shit about you? That’s bullshit! I loved you.” He shouted, deflating by the end of his rant, shaking his head as he admitted, “I love you.”

Pope looked away awkwardly, moving further onto the boat to give you privacy though you could see him watching from the window either way.

“I just didn’t think it mattered-”

“Yeah I got you’re letter.”

“I’m sorry. I just felt like, if I left it wouldn’t matter and I didn’t wanna do a big goodbye. I didn’t think I’d be back, honestly.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Chapel hill.”

“Fuck.” JJ cursed, “you were fucking three hours away?”

“I’m sorry.” You said, sounding more like you were pleading with him to accept your apology.

“Why did you...we coulda worked it out, you didn’t have to just...disappear.” JJ replied.

“I didn’t know you liked me.”

“Yeah well, I do.”

“So...what do we-” In one fluid motion JJ walked back down the jetty to you, grabbing your face and kissing you. Head fuzzy, you knew enough to kiss him back, fighting a smile when he pulled away to talk.

“Well I’ll tell what, I’m not fucking letting you go off without saying anything. I’ll follow you all the fucking way to Chapel Hill if you do.” He replied.

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