#and you realise that you were also a part of the reason why your marriage fell apart

[not-poignant]

So I was thinking about Stain while making lunch, as is now apparently my wont, and I found myself wondering... we know Martingale ousted Joja, and presumably Pierre gets most if not all his fresh goods from him... so does Sebastian go out of his way to avoid buying Martingale's produce, or does he grit his teeth and accept it as an unfortunate but necessary evil for continuing to live in Pelican Town?

Hi hi hi,

So, Sebastian doesn't hate Martingale, and he has no reason to avoid his produce at all.

Sebastian is angry at Martingale, and exasperated with him, but he doesn't hate him. He did, but then he left the town, moved to Zuzu, saw a therapist, got over it, made an absolute mint, learned how to become an even better fighter, and came back with enough bank to build his own house and live his own kind of life.

He's the kind of guy who still has issues but has taken all the thorns out of that particular vine. And also, as we've seen, Sebastian has issues with himself in that relationship as much as he does with Martingale. He's said more and more that his relationship with Martingale wasn't as simple as Martingale just being evil or bad or mean, that it was a joint situation.

So yeah, Sebastian has... really no reason to avoid buying Martingale's produce, and also no reason to grit his teeth or even resent doing it.

I'd say he grows some of his own stuff (he does have a shipping bin, and he is in a section of mountain forest where he'd have arable land - I'd say Alex has never seen it because he only visits at night, and light pollution isn't really a thing), and also has no problems eating at the Stardrop Saloon, and otherwise keeps his fridge stocked via Pierre's.

Like, he knows better than anyone how much Martingale cares about his farm and how much work he's put into it. He was there when Martingale stayed up until 2.00am night after night, and he was there when Martingale nearly died trying to get enough iridium just to upgrade his sprinklers so he could have higher and higher quality goods. He knows he's getting the best, which matters to him.

And then on top of that, he's always been a big believer in fairly compensating someone for their work no matter how he feels about them. He started backing Alex in that long before he considered himself to be friendly towards Alex overall. In fact he was supportive of Alex getting paid better even when he still thought Alex was an active homophobe and bully!

So yeah, Sebastian can be immature in some ways, but that's not one of them!

(Also I feel like Sebastian is the kind of person who wants Martingale to know when he's pissed at him, and then the rest of the time is like 'well, that's a waste of my time.' lksfjas)

[monzabee]

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to chilisade5594@gmail.com, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 

“I know you don’t,” he nods.  

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 

[reiderwriter]

Margaritas and Mistakes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive, smut coming in the next part (it's already written it just felt best to post them separately lmao).

Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, some heavy petting and mention of sexual arousal. 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.

A/N: Welcome back, it's my week off currently so I've been writing a copious amount of smut, so please enjoy this 3.6k word build up to more smut coming soon. Requests are still open, and you can find my masterlist here!

PART TWO!

You truly made all of your worst decisions when under the influence of alcohol. You blamed it on the fact that you really didn’t get the chance to go out all that often now that you were a full time member of the BAU Team. But the job was sometimes rewarding, and considering you’d been working on consultations all week and not a full time case, you were really looking forward to stretching your legs this friday night and getting some much needed relaxation in before you had to stare evil in the eye one more time.

“Girls’ Night Out! No male detectives, partners, Special Supervisory Agents, Unit Chiefs, OR Doctors!” Penelope cheered as you arrived at her apartment that night prior to your eventful outing.

“God I needed this,” Emily sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t remember the last time I got to kick back with a glass of chardonnay.”

“You sent me a picture of your drink two days ago, and it didn’t exactly look like water,” JJ laughed.

“Ah you see, my dear JJ, that wasn’t kicking back. That was therapy.”

“Honestly, though, it’s going to be good to get out of the house. I swear, the only places I’ve been for the last month have been my apartment and work,” you sigh, downing the last of the drink Penelope had handed you on the way in.

“What happened to that guy you were seeing, Y/N? Was he that bad?”

“Don’t even mention it. He took me back to his place and he didn’t even have a mattress on the floor, wanted us to do it on his couch,” you groan. “The couch that was also housing all of his laundry. And I’m not positive it was even clean laundry.”

You really had been having the absolute worst luck with men recently; other than your aforementioned tinder date, the only men who had shown any interest in you being serial killers who wanted to murder you and married cops looking to fool around with an FBI agent. Not the most auspicious of dating pools.

“Okay, operation get Y/N laid is a go. Ladies, your jobs tonight, should you choose to accept it, is to become the best wing-women this town has ever seen!” Penelope joked, and you found yourself giggling at just the idea, thankful that they were taking the time to try to cheer you up.

“Oh I’m all in. I’m warning you now, Y/N, my wing-woman success rate is pretty high. I’ve helped multiple couples achieve not only orgasm, but also marriage and kids.” Emily boasted.

“Emily, next time you might want to think about the wording of that one,” JJ laughed. “But I’m in too, you could use a little unwinding.”

“Not you too, JJ. You were supposed to be our voice of reason tonight.” You giggle into your cup, feeling the effect of your starter alcohol already.

“Nope. We’re having no responsible adults in our midst tonight. That’s why I’ve already arranged for our favourite Doctor to come and pick us up when the last of us falls tonight. He’s at a screening of some Indie Russian flick until 2am which is probably about perfect for our plans.”

This is the first you’ve heard of Penelope’s plans, but you’re not against it. With a solid escape route, you can let loose as much as you want tonight and know that all of your friends are fully able to have as much fun as possible tonight.

“Well, that’s the plan for us, sweetcheeks. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Penelope winked at you with a nefariously innocent look on her face. And suddenly you weren’t quite as sure you trusted her…

–X–

After your first margarita at the bar you were still feeling fine. Sure, you were talking a lot louder than you usually did, and if you saw yourself in the mirror you’d probably start giggling instantly at the stupid, semi-permanent grin on your face, but you were feeling so relaxed that it was of no consequence.

You’d moved swiftly from Penelope’s apartment to the nearest downtown bar. It looked pretty seedy to you, and the lighting was so low you could barely make out the faces of your friends in their seats at the same table as you, but you were sure some of that was just the alcohol blurring your vision.

Your hearing though was still in top shape, which was why when Penelope asked her next question, you almost spit the drink out of your mouth, rushing to laugh.

“Okay, fuck, marry, kill, Hotch, Morgan, Reid.” She giggled as she posed the question to her teammates.

“Oh come on now, that’s not fair.” Emily laughed at the question posed.

“You’re right, I don’t know a woman alive that doesn’t want a ride on my chocolate thunder.” Penelope let out a faux dreamy sigh and took another swig of her drink.

“And marrying Reid just seems wrong. He’s like our brother at this point.” JJ points out, just shuddering at the thought.

“So we’re all in agreement? Fuck Morgan, marry Hotch and lovingly bury Reid six foot under?” Emily laughs and the other two nod.

“Nope,” is all you manage to get out before going for another large gulp of your drink.

“Well, well, well, Y/N what would you be doing differently?” Emily snaps her head around to look at you, eager for the juicy details.

“None of you are curious what the doctor is packing?” You reply, almost innocently, unaware of the many plots culminating in the minds of your friends at that very second.

“Not at all. “Nope.” “That’s pretty gross, actually.” They all seem to reply at once, but Penelope pushes another drink into your hand as soon as you’re done and gets ready to launch a counter-attack.

“Are you curious about it?” She leaves it at that, and if you weren’t so drunk, you’d have seen them all lean into you, desperate for your answer and ready to hang off of your every word. "Do you think about you and him… You know?"

“Every night,” you sigh dreamily. And you’re telling the truth. In the recent months, you’d found yourself waking up a little hot and bothered after some rather steamy midnight encounters with the Good Doctor. You’d become close to him over the few months you’d worked with him as a member of the team, but it wasn’t like you’d had a crush on him or anything. It was more like your body had an unconscious appreciation of his body. Or at least for certain parts of his body.

“His fingers are really nice, you know. And they’re big, too. Just makes a girl curious, s’all.” You down the proffered drink, hiding your remaining shame behind the glass.

“No, no, no babycakes, we’re gonna need more details than that if you’re gonna claim that you want to fuck Reid more than Morgan.” Penelope insisted, more forceful now than before.

“And what exactly does every night mean, Y/N? Something you should be telling us?” JJ wiggled her eyebrows at you and you lost it for a few seconds having a giggling fit.

“Okay, okay, it’s just… You’ve seen how he looks, right? And there was that one case three weeks back. He confronted that accomplice, and when he was about to bolt he slammed him against the wall and held him there like he’d barely broken a sweat. And you know how it is, we see Morgan kicking down doors on the daily, so I thought I wouldn’t be that interested in feats of physical strength, but my only thought in that moment was that I’d rather like him to slam…me…against that …wall.” You slowed down your speech at the end, looking up to see what looked to you like the grinning faces of three wolves staring down at their prey.

“And now I need another drink, anyone up for another round?” You squeaked out, changing the topic before any of the others could make their own comments.

–X–

Your second round of margarita’s was probably where things went irreversibly wrong for you. You’d returned to the table with two rounds of shots for all, having queued up four songs on the ancient jukebox you’d seen in the corner, hoping to entice the girls away from conversation, and it had worked.

After you’d bought the first two rounds, JJ had bought you another, and then Emily had splurged on another three, and then Garcia had rounded the hour out with one more shot, this time with sparklers attached.

So by the time you got back to your table and took a much needed swig of a drink that didn’t have to go down all at once, you were feeling well past drunk, to say the least.

But with the free-flowing alcohol came the lack of inhibition, so you really didn’t care. True to their word, the girls had been doing their best to convince you to dance with some of the guys in the bar since you’d gotten up, but truthfully none of them had enticed you.

But now, the night was running out, and the alcohol had you a bit hot and bothered, so when you felt a nice, hard body press up gently against yours, you decided to take advantage of the situation. Without looking back, you wrapped your hand around the one of his that had grazed your hips and held in there, moving your hips back and forth and beginning to grind back into your mystery man.

He was a little bit still at first, but eventually began making some slow movements along with you, and you could see the others cheering for you from a distance, Emily especially whooping from her perch at the bar.

You felt the voice lean down to your ear after a minute or so, and you tilted your neck up to hear the tall man a little better.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” He whispered against your skin, still letting him guide you through the music. Had you been sober, you’d have realised the voice was more than familiar, especially since he’d said your name, but you were not, and so you did not.

“Well, if you’re lucky, tonight I’ll be doing you?” you giggled back, looking up at the man quickly. But with the hazy lights of the bar and the copious amount of alcohol you’ve ingested, you don’t catch a good enough glimpse of the man to realise he’s your coworker.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” he says, when you start to pull him towards the bar, his grip on your hips tightening, accidentally pressing you back into what you expect to be his semi-erect cock, straining against your clothing.

“Oh, what, wanna take me home right now? That’s okay with me, mister.” You giggle, grinding back into him more intentionally this time. You grip his hand and try to force it up to touch more of you, utterly carefree about throwing yourself on what you presume to be a stranger in the middle of a bar.

Before you manage to, however, he lets out a frustrated groan and turns you around by your hips, forcing you to look him in the eye for a little bit longer, and all of your senses finally start working once again.

“Yes, Y/N, we’re going now. Penelope called me 15 minutes ago and said you were ready for that ride home and I can see now that she was right,” Reid leant down so you could hear him enough, but your brain was short circuiting.

You’d been grinding on your coworker. The one that had been the cause of so much of your sexual frustration for the past god knows how long. Spencer was right in front of you, and he hadn’t loosened his grip on you that much. Spencer was right in front of you and his erection was poking into you.

Really, your following actions shouldn’t be held against you in the slightest given the situation.

“Are you going to take me home, Doctor? Lay me down in bed and get me nice and comfortable?” you giggled up at the man, now enjoying the way your insinuations were making him blush.

“Y/N, you’re not being fair. We need to get the others and go,” he shot back, irritation dripping from his tone.

“Oh I’m sorry, am I being a bad girl?”

“You’re certainly being very difficult- what are you doing?” He jolted as you moved your hands to his fair, beginning to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“It’s softer than I imagined it would be,” you giggled again, pressing yourself forward to press a kiss against his neck.

“Okay, we need to get you home,” he panicked, grabbing both of your hands, pressing them against your sides, spinning you around and walking you back towards the other girls.

“Hello Spencer~” the girls all giggled as you approached. You struggled against his grip a little, but he kept you firmly in place, man-handling you slightly, and you practically melted into his touch.

“Who let Y/N drink this much? Don’t answer that, you’ve all been drinking the same amount, right?” He left out a frustrated breath, and ran one hand through his hair. You attempted to move again, but he’d practically pinned you to the table. Your hips were pressed into the edge of it, his hips pressed against you, forcing you up against the table in a way that should have been uncomfortable. His other hand was resting near your discarded glass, caging you in almost entirely.

“Cars out front, lets go,” he said, his jaw twitching with anger now.

“No need, lover boy, taxis are coming to pick myself, Penelope and JJ up as we speak,” Emily slurred the words, but got the idea across well enough. “You’ll just be needing to take this little kitten home and you’re done for the night.”

They were all giggling now, as you let out a childlike yay, your excitement evident on your face.

“We’ll wait and see you all off together at least, so outside now. She needs some fresh air or something,” he was practically talking to a wall at that point, but after a few repetitions, the women acquiesced and moved outside.

“Ooh, that’s my taxi, gotta go,” Garcia practically runs from you the moment you step outside, and you wave at her whilst wrapped around one of Reid’s arms, stumbling with each step.

“Use protection my sweet babies,” she shouts as she slams the car door just as her car drives away, leaving a spluttering Spencer unable to respond that he’s not touching you tonight while you’re in this state.

The taxis for Emily and JJ arrive swiftly as well, and the two soon depart with similar messages and soon you find yourself alone with Spencer once again.

“So, your place or mine,” you smirk, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in the sweetest way you can manage.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Drunk I may be, Doctor, but I absolutely know what I’m saying. I’m saying I want you to shove me against a wall and finger fuck me until I don’t know how to walk anymore.”

“Goddamnit, Y/N, someone’s gonna hear you.”

“Oh you want me to be quiet? If you take my panties off and push them into my mouth maybe you could shut me up for a few minutes.”

“Get in the car, now.” You stick your tongue out at him, but hop into the passenger seat. He slams the door in your face and takes a few deep breaths before moving around and getting in himself.

–X–

Despite having the window open the entire car journey, hoping that the fresh air will do you some good, you’re still on top form when Spencer pulls up to your apartment.

“I didn’t even give you my address,” you pouted, as you tried, unsuccessfully, to remove your seatbelt.

“I memorised your file, now let’s get you into bed,” he unclasps it for you, and you use the close proximity to drop a kiss on his cheek.

“Only if you get into bed with me, hot stuff,” you wink at him and make for the door. “You know, you’re going to remember everything I said in the morning, right?” You asked him.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he muttered under his breath as he caught you just as you were about to teeter into the hedge on the shared green space. You wrapped your arms around his neck for the second time that night and stopped him in his tracks. Looking deep into his eyes, you took one of your hands and traced it gently over the side of his face and down his neck, your eyes following your fingers. He gulped involuntarily when you hit his adams apple, and you snapped your eyes back to him.

“Chances are that I’m probably not going to remember any of this, right?” You smiled up at him.

“Alcohol induced memory blackouts tend to occur in binge-drinkers whose alcohol levels have hit at least 0.16%, and further studies show that 50% of adults will experience some kind of alcohol-related memory loss in their lives, so yes, I’d say you’re probably not going to remember any of this.” He shot back, almost entirely still in anticipation of your next move.

“Good, then I might as well enjoy the moment while it lasts right.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth, your lips crashed into his, and after a beat, his reciprocated, moving over yours just as hungrily. He moved now, walking you back to your door, lips still locked in a ferocious battle for dominance, until he pinched your arm slightly. You gasped a little, ready to pull back and complain about the pain, but suddenly his tongue was in your mouth and you were back at it all over again. He tapped your legs, signalling that he wanted you to jump into his arms, and you did, wrapping your legs around his centre tightly as he finished making his way to your apartment door.

Pulling away for the briefest of moments, he pulled your keys from your back pocket, and made quick work of your door.

“Bedroom, now Spencer, please I need you,” you whimpered in his arms, pressing kisses against his jaw and neck. Unfortunately, he had other ideas.

“No. We are going to the bathroom, where you’re going to wash your makeup off, brush your teeth and change your clothes, and then you are going to get in bed and sleep.” He unceremoniously dropped you at the door of your bathroom, and you slid to the ground.

Pouting up at him, you felt the tears well in your eyes.

“No! I don’t want to go to bed yet,” you sounded like a petulant child and Spencer cursed a little under his breath when he looked down at you.

“Y/N listen to me very clearly, you’re not thinking straight. You’re way past the legal limit, you can’t consent to any of this and I’m not going to sleep with you and then have you forget it in twelve hours.” His tone was harsh, but you listened to him.

Picking yourself up off the floor, you followed his instructions and got yourself ready for bed.

“Okay, I’m all done now, Doctor,” you grumbled once you were done. You half expected him to have left you there, choosing to retreat whilst you cleaned yourself up, knowing that he’d already done what was asked of him by getting you home. But he was still there perched on your bed, and you made one last attempt to get what you wanted.

As he made his way to stand up, you used the last of your strength to push him back down again and climbed into his lap. This time though, you made no attempt to take anything further, just wrapping your arms and legs around him and burrowing into his shoulder. You had to admit, you were getting particularly sleepy now.

You let out a small yawn and burrowed further into his neck just as he opened his mouth.

“Y/N, please, what are you doing?” He sounded tired now, but didn’t attempt to push you off again.

“You said I was probably not going to remember this in the morning. That’s not going to fly with me. So you’re gonna sleep here with me and tell me everything I forgot in the morning.” You informed him.

He scoffed at you, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

“So you want me to just sleep here next to you? No pushing you against a wall? No panties in your mouth?”

“Nope. Like you said, ‘s getting pretty late and it’s been a long week, so it's probably for the best if we…” You tried to finish but your tongue was so heavy in your mouth that you just couldn’t use it anymore. You felt the warm rumble of his answering laugh of disbelief as he manoeuvred the two of you under the covers, taking the time to kick off his shoes and remove his coat and shirt.

“Sleep well, Y/N, because when you wake up I’m going to make you feel all of the torment you’ve put me through tonight tenfold.”

And he held you there against his chest as both of you fell deeper and deeper into your slumber.

PART TWO

[from-izzy]

proposing to you | nct dream

“Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

pairing » nct dream (individual members) x fem!reader​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, non-idol au!, marriage au! (well it leads to it)

genre » it's all just fluff and vibes here hehe, dreamies who are all very much in love with you, mark's one makes me chuckle, renjun's one makes me wanna squish his cheeks (i miss him 😭), jeno's one makes me melt, haechan's one is chaotically (?) romantic (in my opinion), jaemin's one makes me want to have pets again so bad, chenle's one makes me want to splurge and treat myself, jisung's one is too adorable for me

word count; estimated reading time » 4303 (total); ~16 mins (total)

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » nicknames; members to reader (love, bubs), lots of kissing, ...not proofread---

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my very first time doing something like this. this scenario has been in my head for some time and i finally had the time to sit and write it all 🥰 (and also because sem 1 results come out later today and this is my way of forgetting about it uhm 🤠)

this is my personal take on how each member from dream would propose to you!! i tried to make them all with similar word count but i can't help but to get carried away with some 🥹

Mark sits on the stool, one foot on the ground while the other is on the footrest, making sure that his guitar is tuned properly and that the new strings that he bought yesterday are set up properly. To ease his tension he strums random chords and raps random words on top, making the other Dreamies lovingly judge (and tease) him. Jeno would be tasked with calming him down, while Haechan does the exact opposite of what Jeno is doing, purposely annoying him to get his mind off his nervousness. Either way, it worked well to get the lovesick boy from the reason why they’re all gathered today. 

“You both are too loud!” Renjun says when Chenle adds random notes to Mark’s singing, belting high notes that are out of his range whilst also purposely hitting them off-tune.

“She’s probably going to walk in and think we’re crazy,” Jisung whispers to the boy who scolded Haechan not long after, who decided to join in on the chaos.

“Well, the point is that she doesn’t see the chaos right now…” Jeno lets out a nervous grin, turning his head to the still-closed door, “Maybe one of us should stand outside and text someone in the room or something.”

“No,” Jaemin crosses his arms, “This is funny,” taking out his phone to start recording, making the other three facepalm at how he’s indirectly contributing to the chaos. 

In the end, the noise and chaos were too loud for anyone in the room to realise the door opening. When he noticed you from the other side of the room, hand over your mouth, cheeks rising at the scene, his voice cracked and his cheeks blushed instantly. Mark’s voice cracked and his coughing caused the other boys to be immediately disciplined, rushing to their scheduled spots in their room as Mark mutters an “Oh crap…” thinking that everything has all been ruined.

You tried to keep your laughs at bay at your pouting boyfriend, but the image of him being silly only made it harder for you to wipe the smile off your face. But soon after, you realise the decoration around the room and the heart-shaped balloons and the unique balloons shaped like rings. Understanding how this is a different occasion to a date that you expected him to set up, you blurted a quick “No, I didn't see anything!” and rushed out the door, heart beating fast at the possible connotations behind the set-up.

It will forever become a memory that you two will always bring up whenever and wherever. A slight mention of it would instantly bring out a shy Mark who hides his red face in the crook of your neck, forever in love with you.

“Ah! That proposal was supposed to be perfect.”

Your mind replays the scene back again. After running out of the room, you waited around five more minutes, trying to calm the beating against your chest. When you did enter back, your eyes were only focused on Mark who started performing the little piece that he has prepared for you. Your body sways to the rhythm and the sweet melody of his voice and Mark who kept his eyes on yours for the majority of the performance only made the moment even more special. You remember the way you hopped on stage, only wanting to be held in his arms and unable to let go. Eventually, you did and Mark got down on one knee with the ring that he had prepared for this moment. Reminiscing the time always made you chuckle and Mark pouted and groaned, knowing that you were lost in that time once more. 

A kiss lands on his lips, wiping the pout effectively from his lips, “It’s perfect because it was you, Markie.”

Renjun is pacing around the room, making sure the decorations are placed at their designated spots properly. He would circle the room countless times, making sure the flowers were fresh and presented in the way that he liked whilst his hands busied themselves with playing with the case of your ring; that he hopes will be on your fourth finger soon.

Mark massages his shoulder, relieving his body tension. Jaemin has his camera ready to take pictures whenever he can, making sure not to interfere with the small bubble that Renjun would create with you. Jisung, being more responsible than the older members most of the time stands still with a proud look on his face while Chenle gives him a thumbs up along with Jeno as well. Haechan is just as encouraging; Renjun’s threat to make sure he didn’t cause trouble playing in his head.

“I think everything is set up,” Jaemin says as he takes more photos of the venue to add for the memory book.

“You’re playing a very important role here,” Haechan comments, a hand resting on his hand, “Don’t mess it up.”

Jaemin replies with a slightly menacing smile, “Don’t mess with me, Lee Haechan.”

“To be honest, everything will go well as long as Renjun doesn’t go blank as soon as she walks in,” Chenle teases the older boy at how in love and speechless Renjun would be around you.

“True,” Mark gives him an encouraging thumbs up, “But you’ll be fine. She’ll be here any minute now actually.”

You received instructions through text from Jeno about meeting at a place, a dress code and a time “when you should open the door (don’t open it before!)”. The text is odd and when asking Renjun about it, the tips of his ears growing red from each passing second tell you that he does know what’s going on but it's cleer he wouldn't tell. You couldn’t ask any more questions after he pulled your face into his for a quick kiss, hushing you from any more questions. 

When you walked in, outfit in line with the theme of the room and matching with his, Renjun’s heart melted once more, falling in love with you all over again. You slowly walk towards your boyfriend, eyes flickering around the area and taking in the decorations as well as giving the boys a smile and greeting back. When Renjun is infront of you, he playfully bows, momentarily stumbling and losing his balance. You cup his cheeks when he lifts his head, kissing his lips, not bothering about the camera capturing it all. 

“W-Woah,” Renjun stumbles with his words, “That was nice.” 

“This whole place is nice, Junnie,” your boyfriend is relieved by your words, “You look beyond nice, by the way.”

Few minutes later, Renjun takes his position on the floor and Jaemin captures it the memories with his camera: the way it dawned on you that he's proposing, to when you finally sealed Renjun’s love and to the way Renjun takes your lips after. 

Jaemin smiles behind the camera, capturing all the moments to make a physical memory of it all.

Including getting extremely closer than he said he wouldn’t take a better picture of the band around your finger.

“So this is why you made me dress up?” Taking in the fragrance of the flowers that Jisung gave as a token of congratulations from the rest of the boys.

Renjun nods, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Jeno and his little smile that would reach his eyes. That was one of the first reasons why you fell for Jeno but to him, it’s his default expression whenever he sees, thinks of hears anything related to you. At the start of your relationship, he’s shy about receiving and giving you affection but you didn’t mind initiating the skinship, hugging and pecking his cheeks that would gradually lean towards his lips. He loves the skinship from you even in front of the rest of the boys who would tease him about it.

“She loves you,” Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at the goodbye kiss you gave him.

“I love her more,” he replies, his eyes filled with heart shapes.

As the relationship developed and you got a little place with him, Jeno would slowly be the one who initiated the skinship, hugging your waist to sleep and keeping you close to him whenever he could. Even outside, he would be the one to link your hands together first and show his love through the bouquet of flowers from the start of any date.

“These bouquets just keep growing bigger and bigger each time in my opinion,” twirling the gift around in your hand while the other is in Jeno’s.

Your boyfriend kissed your head, “It didn’t really change from the first one, bubs.” Content with the little giggle you gave as he watched the elevator take you both to the floor where he booked the last dinner where you would be his girlfriend and the last anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend; the start of a new title to the both of you.

His hand is stashed in his pocket where the ring is and he couldn’t help but gulp nervousnessly. The dinner went smoothly with the courses that Jeno pre-ordered and throughout the whole date, he loves the way you fill the atmosphere with the times that you didn’t spend together for the day, him updating you on his day too. He would never be tired of hearing your voice and the eye smile on him is a clear indication of that.

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” Jeno says as he kisses the back of your hand. He approaches one of the workers there, asking for the largest bouquet that he has ever given you in their back room where he dropped it off hours before the dinner. 

You’re preoccupied with taking pictures of the view from the windows that span from the floor to the ceiling but your boyfriend’s reaction comes into view and your phone screen rests on the table once again, ready to greet him. What you didn’t expect is when Jeno kneeled to one knee, arms outstretching the flowers he had with the opened box nestling between its petals.

“Jeno?” You asked him, tears beginning to fill up your eyes.

“I thought it would be nice to ask here, at this place. We always spent our anniversaries here and even today,” happy with how the corner of your lips rises with the event, “Will you marry me?”

It took you less than a millisecond to respond with a nod and a loud “Yes”. When Jeno stood from his position, your arms were immediately wrapped around his, hiding your lower face behind his shoulder.

“I thought you were shy.” 

“I am,” heat rising to his cheeks, “But I wanted to make this special for my very special girl.”

The Dreamies have never seen Haechan so nervous before. It bought them back to the times when he was crushing on you, blushing and being giddy all the time at the thought of you. They remember how Haechan was asking Jaemin for advice for the outfit on your first date that you prepared, and he rocked up with something really formal for a casual date, mixing up the place for the restaurant as a similar four-star restaurant. It would be something that not only you would tease him about, but when news spread to the Dreamies, they used it as the main thing to tease him about whenever he was being mischievous. It did die down quickly as after learning that the memory is very fond to you, the teasing wouldn’t work against him anymore.

The necklace that Haechan gifted you that day would be a reminder of the happiness that he has been giving you from the start of the journey and just like the sun pendant that reminds you of him, you love how just a glance of it knocks out all your worries that life may have weighed you down with. 

It all seemed to be a recent memory, but that was quite a long time ago for everyone who knew what happened. Now, Haechan is waiting for you to come back home after a night out with your friends and earlier in the day, the boy who was pacing around the room about what to wear to his first date with now is now pacing around the jewellery store on the perfect ring on your hand. 

He talked with the boys about his proposal plan to which the others have chipped in and helped him with. In the end, some of their advice is taken on board, but most of them made him grip his hair and made him say, “I’m just going to wing it.”

To which Mark replied with, “Sure, dude. If it doesn’t go ‘well’, it’s another thing to tease you about.” 

In all seriousness though, he wants the proposal to be perfect; just like how you are to him. He plops down on the bed, raising the box to the ceiling as he looks at the diamond he worked hard for. At the sound of the front door creaking and your voice greeting him from the other side of the house, he pockets the jewellery in his sweatpants, jumping from the cotton to greet you.

Your arms were outstretched and Haechan brings you to his embrace immediately, “How was your day?”

“So good,” your voice muffled with the hug, “We bought friendship rings,” pushing him away slightly to show him, “We thought about this so much but we thought it’s so pretty that we couldn’t not get it.”

You realised that as much as Haechan smiled at the decoration around your finger, it didn’t go unnoticed that he was playing with the hem of your jacket. An eyebrow perks up from that and you give him a kiss on his cheek, asking him what was wrong.

He took a deep breath, took the box from his pockets, got down to one knee and opened the jewellery to you for the first time, “Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

Growing up, you were never able to have pets. Your dad is allergic to cats, one of the pets that you’ve always wanted, and your mum isn’t sure of how well the family would take care of another life due to how busy life is. You totally agree with her because pets should be well taken care of as much as any other kind of life form.

When you and Jaemin were financially ready to get a place for yourselves, one of his first promises was to get a pet that you wanted. Through motivation and a lot of saving, making sure that you were both ready to take care of another life and doing all the research on how to take care of cats, you and Jaemin finally adopted a pet to take care of. Jaemin is also thankful for the added company in the house as your work schedule wouldn’t match with his and that would mean that one of you would be alone in the house. Having another pet would make the house more lively and less lonely. With gradual time and more financial stability, you were able to adopt two more that you both love equally. 

“We should get another one,” you comment as Jaemin turns off the bedroom lights.

Your boyfriend hums at your thoughts, knowing exactly what you mean. He slips into the covers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to his warmth, “You really love taking care of others, don’t you?”

You close your eyes and hum a response, exhaling at the comfort of him next to you. “You know how I am.”

“I do, bubs. I do,” and he really does. With how your eyes light up whenever you take care of the people around you, always loving how you’re able to help out others whether it be him, your family, his family or the three cats that are sleeping soundly in the living room, it comes naturally that he’s thought of settling down with you permanently for the rest of his life; and having a little mini you or mini him later down the track. Similar talks have happened in the relationship and he thought that it would be perfect to make it happen soon.

No more words were said that night but Jaemin kissed a final kiss onto your soft lips and made a mental note to prepare for another life chapter with you. A few days later, he was able to speed through his work, being able to finish early to see the ring that he had been monitoring through the website. As soon as his eyes landed on it, he immediately thought of you and that’s how he made his final decision to buy it.

Thankfully, you had a later end to your work today and that gave Jaemin enough time to prepare a small, quick dinner as well as dressing the three cats into little outfits that would be fitting to wear in a wedding. 

“Come on, Luna,” he says as he struggles to get her paw in, “I don’t have a lot of time and I want to make mummy proud!” With this, the cat seemed to comply instantly and Jaemin squished the cat’s cheeks in thankfulness.

With each cat, he securely attached a note on their ventral side: Love, Marry, Me, and plans to release each cat one by one from the bedroom when you come in. Jaemin just made it in time, quickly scooping up all the cats into his arms, and rushing to hide in the bedroom.

“I’m home!” You routinely shouted, “Nana?” Confused about why the house was so quiet, especially when knowing that Jaemin finished work a long time ago. “Maybe he went out and forgot to tell me?” But that’s quickly proved wrong when pipping hot homemade food were neatly set out on the table. “Luna! Lucy! Luke!” Calling out to your three cats, wondering how none of them rushed to the door like they usually would.

Suddenly, the door to your room opens and you gasp, scared that an intruder is in your house but out comes all your three cats in different, cute attires. “Oh!” Kneeling on the floor to get a better look at them, “Did dadda do this? Hm?” Picking up Luna with his little white dress, rubbing your nose on hers. “What’s this?” Reading the ‘Love’ message on her stomach. You set Lucy down, picking up Lucy in a similar outfit, “Marry…” Your eyes widened, looking at a groom-like dressed Luke who sat patiently, licking the back of his exposed paw. Sure enough, the final and last note makes your jaw drop.

Jaemin emerges from your bedroom, smiling at how you look up at him in shock. He kneels on the floor, “I was supposed to let them out one by one but they got excited," he shrugs with a smile. "As much as I would love another pet,” he hinges the velvet box open, “If you would like to, I would also love a mini you or mini-me.” A hand rises to your gaped mouth, eyes staring at the cushioned ring. “But first, will you marry me?”

It seems that Luna, Lucy and Luke were on board with the idea, jumping on your lap and resting their little paws on your arms. Sure enough, you nod and verbally express your actions. The “Yes” is all Jaemin took to carefully place the three nosy cats away from you, sliding the new ring on your hand and pulling you into a kiss.

During ring shopping, Chenle would look around the places he could find and spend a lot of time window shopping on all the rings that were available in your size. He invited Jisung along on the journey and the younger boy was more stressed than him with how he was handling the situation. From the very first store, he already has about five rings that he’s thinking would be perfect for you. Jisung gave his input on each one which Chenle is thankful for, but did minimal in narrowing down the options. He even asked the other members, but it was still the same result. 

In the end, after visiting all the stores that he had listed, Chenle purchased about ten rings from each store. The employees are used to customers who are stuck between multiple choices as a symbol of love for their partner. But they weren’t prepared for Chenle to cross his arms, calmly exhale point to the rings and say, “I’ll just take them all.” 

Jisung tried to save his wallet but after deep thinking and checking the return policy, he decided to buy all the ones that his heart couldn't let go of. He'll figure out what to do with the rest of the diamonds later. Because of his massive purchase, on the day of the proposal, he looked calm and collected but inside, his heart was beating like he just ran a marathon. It was running so fast to the point that you asked him if there was something troubling him when you laid on his chest to sleep last night. Chenle shook his head firmly but from the way his finger trembled a little when he was patting your head, you couldn’t help but to question him once more.

“It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

After some time, your raised eyebrows relaxed, “Okay. Tell me if it weighs too much and whenever you’re ready, okay?”

And he’s so excited to tell you what is on his mind soon. The thought of finally being able to spoil the love of his life for the rest of his life excited him so much that with the boxes looking similar across the stores, he didn't realise that he also grabbed the one that he hadn't decided on the previous night. When you nodded to his proposal, too stunned and speechless from happiness to speak, the different ring to his expectations when he opened the velvet box made him let out the famous Pikachu face. 

“What?” You chuckled and tilted your head in confusion at his reaction, completely unaware of the boxes hidden under the bed. 

“N-Nothing,” well, it looks like he'll explain later but with the happiness written on your face and the kisses you showered him with, maybe he'll just gift the rest of the spares to you.

“Don't be so nervous,” a hit lands on the side of Jisung’s arm from Chenle, “She'll love this.”

In the early stages of dating, you were always sharing your date plans with him, planning most of them. You made sure Jisung didn’t mind them because being in a relationship isn’t only about one person. Jisung loves the way you talk enthusiastically about all the places you want to go with him and all the activities that you want to do with him. Jisung would give you that adorable gummy smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons whenever he did so. Those small event plans became more detailed, expanding into different topics naturally such as proposals, weddings and honeymoon places and Jisung being in love with everything about you, would mentally take notes of what you love for each occasion.

“I promise,” Jisung stops your words for a second, “We will do them all together.”

There was a time he was caught writing it all down on his phone to which Chenle teased him endlessly, the other Dreamies joining along at their youngest being in love. It’s not that he will forget the things that make you happy, he just wants to be able to see it all so that he can plan the perfect proposal. They promised to help him with every step when he was ready. 

Today is that day.

Jaemin tells him that the hinge of the engagement ring’s box would eventually break with how much he’s fiddling with it but it’s the only way he could distract his nervousness.

“Maybe you should recite your speech once more,” Jeno clears his throat, opening the paper in his hand.

“Jeno loves Jisung, guys. Look at him,” Haechan teased his same-aged friend. His bear-like friend would chase him around the room and Jisung would be shouting at the two to be aware of the decorations around the room.

You came in through the chaos, the door opening inwards where Haechan stops abruptly to avoid his face smashing against the wood and Jeno back hugged him as a result of that. You peeked behind the door, confused but smiling at the two. Before you could question what was going on, Renjun kicked Haechan out the door and welcomed you in.

“He’s not prepared for this,” pointing at your boyfriend who hides behind Jaemin. “Stay here while I talk to Haechan for ruining this moment.”

But the moment wasn’t ruined at all because just looking at how your Pinterest board came into life and the boys slowly giving Jisung the spotlight while you walked down towards him, everything is indeed beautiful and perfect.

“Oh wow,” you breathed out, “It's like my Pinterest came to life.”

Hearing that is the biggest compliment to Jisung who spent hours analysing your saved folders of wedding venue inspirations, trying to find a consistent theme. He gifted the teddy bear on his hand to you, pecking your lips and pulling away with a deep red blush across his cheeks. He readies himself to his rehearsed position after, “Will you marry…me?” Endeared by the way you hide your face behind the teddy bear. Yet, your answer is clear without your words.

Just like how he gives you a kiss on the lips with a “Yes” from you and the silver band around your finger that sealed your happily ever after.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

[thelovelywriteress]

➷ Night without pillow

▶︎sᴀᴋᴜʀᴀ xғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

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╰┈➤ After so much nagging you are finally in Sakura's home. Now what events this beautiful or funny night at his home will take?

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Sakura was pretty nervous to have you in his home. No wonder it take you so much time to make him take you his home.

You were pretty excited and Sakura almost hated it. He told you there is nothing special about his house, so why are you smiling like some kid in amusement park?

You enter his house and fact word that your mouth was 'small'. Sakura almost hit you but then you added 'cosy' too and now that cutesy word is stuck in his mind.

It was small apartment but you still happily look around while Sakura just gaze at you from main room and soon you joined him too.

"Finished your tour?" Sakura ask in sadistic manner but your next sentence just made him almost exploded due to flusteration.

"Was just looking around at the place I got to live after marriage." Oh boy, I am suprise how he didn't just choke after your blunt reply.

"W-What marriage?"

"Don't you know idiot, people who become couples later married each other too. You are just so innocent Sakura-chan!"

Of course he know that's what couples are supposed to do but many break apart even before reaching twenty. But still his heart flushes at the thought of you being his wife. He would die to experience that part of life.

Soon night arrived and the question he despised the most, came up.

"Do you got some extra pillows?"

"Actually I don't have pillow at all."

Sakura hide his face feeling ashamed. He didn't even have such a basic thing, what else will you expect from him now?

You, on other hands was confused. Did he have any problems taking pillows? You did question him but he simply replied never own one.

"Why you poor child?" You tear up and hug him with your hands continuously patting his hair for comfort.

Sakura was blushing message. He can never come embarrassment he get from your physical affections.

"Don't worry we will spend whole night talking without any sleep and then we wouldn't need pillow anyways!"

Sakura was confused but he let out a brief smile. When it comes to talking no one beats you and now you need to make Sakura feel interested, you will definitely do your best (talking).

You both side against wall, under window as you started to told him about some cat you saw on roadside two days and so on. You didn't even notice but then you heard light snoring.

As expected Sakura had fallen sleep. You quickly take a glance around empty house, pulled his head on your shoulder and then put your cheeks on his soft hair and with this you both fall sleep under the shade of moonlight.

At morning you wake before Sakura. He was still sleeping but now he even had his hands wrapped around you. With tinted cheeks you smile at his gesture.

You was about to pat his head when you realised about if he never owned pillow, he probably never even sleep on one. And for some reason a embarrassing solution also came to your mind that made you almost awkwardly giggled to yourself.

Sakura wake feeling his head being stroked and his face on something. . .soft? He fully grasped the situation he was in and break down with his face red as tomato.

His face was on your chest and for some reason you didn't seem to be mind,"Oh? You wake." You nonchalantly ask,"What the hell?" He yelled as you scold him for being so loud in morning.

He quickly take his head up, questioning you about previous position you was in. He knew you were nonchalant but this was too much!

"You said you never owned pillow . So this means you never sleep on one. So I decided to make you rest on softest pillow around."

You said with the wink as his face remained red. With a quick giggled you again pulled his face against your chest as he almost scream while you just ruffle his hair in amusement.

After that he was afraid to spend night with you alone. . . .and especially if their weren't any pillows around."

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Yeah guys so I have watched first episode of Wind Breaker and safe to say fall for our mc at first sight. 😌🫶

Like Sakura is literally my type of boy. Can resist a punch but no a kiss?🤭 Definitely.

Okay so at same time I am watching Fruits Basket too and he reminds me of Kyo too!😗

Maybe I will write about him or someone else from series too, I don't know (⁠◔⁠‿⁠◔⁠)

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[saerins]

⋆୨ chapter three ୧˚ for a while, you were all mine

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way <> next: chapter four - behind a box of reasons why ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 6.3k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, yn and sae finally sharing one bed | notes: eeep this was long i’m sorry !! more of the other girl here heh ^_< also mwah thank you to all of you who’s reading ily !! <3

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t right of you to go through your husband’s stuff. Maybe you should’ve just looked at that little black box and left it there and continue to be ignorant.

But no. In this world, you’re nosy and greedy and you wanted to know who exactly it is that Itoshi Sae of all people can’t get over and now you have exactly what you were looking for.

After extensive research—and by research you mean scrolling through your husband’s social media (all of them), you managed to find her tagged in a post buried way below on his Facebook wall. Silver lining is: there’s nothing recent. The bad part? Judging by the date, they’ve known each other for a long time.

Apparently her name is Mirin, and her family’s made up of a whole slew of top lawyers in the whole of Japan. There’s not a lot on her Facebook, but her Instagram is a whole other story. Her posts the last few years put her somewhere in Europe, and judging by the content, she’s been studying there for a while. But before that, back when the posts were all in Japan, you catch a few photos of Sae. Some of them have Oliver and Eita, and a couple of other guys you haven’t met before.

It’s really wrong of you to do this, only because you know you’re just setting yourself up for a world of paranoia, but you can’t stop. You move over to the pictures she’s tagged in, and there’s one from Oliver that catches your attention.

Because it’s dated a few weeks back.

The first of two photos show Oliver, Eita, Sae and the same guy you saw back in Mirin’s feed—the one with jet black spiky hair. They’re in a bar, you presume, sitting around a private booth with a ton of alcohol in the ice bucket on the table. You recognise his attire; it’s from the very first night Sae bothered to sit down at the dining table and eat with you. 

The second makes your heart crash to the floor. In the photo, in Sae’s place is Mirin herself, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a skin-tight red dress that you wouldn’t ever think of wearing. (One, because it’s much too revealing for your own taste, and two, well, just because you’re more of an oversized t-shirt kind of girl.)

All you can take away from what you saw is that Mirin is now back in Japan. Coupled with the fact that Sae had been gone even though he was off from work for those first few days of your marriage, you deduce what you wish isn’t true—was he meeting up with her all this time? Even 

Trying to avoid falling into utter madness, you grab your phone and text your ever-trusty best friend.

Reo, meet you at our usual. ASAP!!!

Just as you’re about to leave the house, Sae gets back from wherever he’s been (which now you can’t help but wonder whether he was meeting Mirin), and you run right into his chest.

“Careful, busy?” Sae asks, which is more than Sae usually does and you realise just how low the bar is set right now.

Still, you answer him like you always do. “Yeah I’m gonna meet Reo for a bit,” you tell him, biting back a snarky comment about Mirin.

Even with those doubts of Sae in your head, you can’t help but stop to appreciate how he hands you your keys from the key hanger before you forget, or how his other hand is gripping onto yours, warm and just slightly calloused. It’s the first time you’ve felt them since that day at your own wedding.

“Take your time, I’ll handle our dinner tonight,” he tells you, and you think that’s already a lot considering that he’s never really bothered with anything the past few weeks, but then you feel a soft sensation against your forehead—very brief, so unfamiliar, way too soft—and then it’s gone in just a second and it’s way too quick that it has you doubting its existence at all.

All you hear is a soft “see you” before the door shuts behind you, and then there’s only the erratic beating of your heart that fills your ears.

“Yikes.”

“Very helpful, thanks,” you sigh exasperatedly as you plop down onto the cushioned seat across from Reo.

Reo laughs, handing you your phone back, open to Oliver’s Instagram account. “Then ask for a divorce, I’m sure he’d happily oblige if all of that’s true.”

“You know why I can’t, Reo,” you remind him, close to giving up.

Reo nods, remembering about your parents and deciding not to make matters worse. “Did you ask him about it though?”

You frown, glaring up at your best friend who’s now happily sipping on his cold brew. “And let him guess that I was stalking his ex? Sure I did.”

Reo snorts at your sarcasm. He thinks it’s funny how you’re oddly meek in front of Sae, and yet you’re snappish around him. Comes with the many years of being best friends, he supposes. But on that note, “you think there’s something going on between them?”

For the first time, Reo sees you helpless, eyes staring into nothing, index finger idly tracing circles on the polished wooden surface. “I don’t know,” because all you know is that you’re already exhausted from overthinking all the things they could be doing behind your back. “But… he’s always away and he says it’s work when I know it’s not. And she’s back and they were at the same place and urgh, I don’t know what to do.”

By that last line, you’re already burying your head in your hands, slumped against the table, Reo watching on as you grumble in frustration. He chuckles, gently patting your head before you look up at him, “what if they’re just friends right now?”

“It’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean… from the looks of it, they were pretty serious at one point.” Your words are all muffled because you’re pretty sure this is you being jealous now—thanks to Sae considerably warming up to you (be it at his own sluggish pace), it’s hard not to feel anything for him. In a way, you’re learning to like a lot about him, but there’s this unshakeable doubt you can’t brush off in the form of his ex.

Reo leans back against his chair now, pondering out loud. “Hmm I wonder what that reminds me of.”

In a second, you know all too well what he’s referring to, and you find yourself unable to look him in the eye. “That’s… different. We didn’t act on it.”

He rests his elbow on the table, head resting against his fist, “yeah but… we were still each other’s first kiss, right?”

“But we didn’t amount to anything.”

“Except that we’re best friends now,” Reo tells you, and you know he’s trying to get a point across but you’re not sure you want to understand it.

“And that’s all we ever were, Reo.”

Smiling, Reo leans forward a little, cautious at keeping his voice down. It won’t do if people misunderstand and word gets around. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but you were all I wanted at one point. For more than just that one day under the cherry blossoms, more than that one time I stole your first kiss.”

It stuns you a little to hear it, because any romantic emotions between the two of you were never said or shared. Both you and Reo knew back then that your parents wouldn’t ever be in favour of him and his rebelliousness that you both just decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. At that time, when you were both foolish kids, having that something intangible was enough. Maybe it faded for you faster than it had for Reo, but he knew that it once existed. Even if only for a second.

“And?”

You’ve gone soft now, and Reo knows you understand. You’re just in denial.

“Are you sure Sae would feel the same if he knew about it? If he knew I used to love you too?” Reo asks you, genuinely wondering for himself.

You’re about to argue that Sae doesn’t even care, but putting yourself into his shoes, you get where Reo’s coming from. History is history. No matter how long ago it was or how short the relationship (or lack of one) was, the feelings still existed, once upon a time.

Still, you have a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye. Especially if Sae has to hide it all the time. He’s never even said her name to you, if they met at all.

“Anyway look, do you want me to try asking Oliver about it? I’ll be discreet, though I can’t really say the same for that knucklehead,” Reo warns you. It’s not like he knows Oliver much outside of any business dealings, but he can tell that much at least.

You shake your head anyway, knowing it’s a bad idea. For all you know, Sae would just lash out at you for prying into his business when you’re just his on-paper wife.

“Wonder why they broke up though,” you think out loud, watching the liquid in your cup swish around, close to spilling off the edge as you swirl it with your hand, almost completely lost in thought.

Reo answers you without missing a beat. “She went abroad to study and just called it off thinking it wouldn’t work.” His eyes go wide the moment your head shoots up, and he winces after letting it slip.

“You knew?”

“Yeah…”

“What the- how?” Because it’s incredulous how Reo happens to know that much more about the relationship.

He sighs, fessing up. “I was asking around about Sae remember? When I told you he’s just a tough nut to—”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave it off, wanting him to get to the point.

“Well, Oliver’s kinda a blabbermouth so…” Reo sighs, as if he senses there’s no point in keeping it in, not when you’re already halfway into that rabbit hole yourself.

And you’re all ears. Half because you really just want to learn more about it and the other half just wanting confirmation that you’re not crazy for overthinking about this. But then Reo tells you and you’re not sure anymore.

“He said Sae was never over her, loved her to bits.” Reo pauses, hesitating before he opens his mouth again. “He said Sae was waiting for her to get back before starting things up again.”

Oh.

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Surely it wasn’t a stretch to be furious that distance would be enough of a reason for a breakup? Surely Sae didn’t have to think himself crazy for refuting such an idea?

Mirin’s hair flowed in the wind, pretty as it always was, and it would be even prettier in his memories. She looked unsure, and he knew it too. He knew her like the back of his hand, down to the injury on his ankle. She was only doing what she thought was right, and that was offering each of their own freedom, though Sae had no single doubt in his mind that that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Sae, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she told him, her eyes swimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to overflow.

Always so stubborn, and forever thinking less of herself. That was how he knew her to be. And as much as he hated that stubbornness at that moment, he loved her just as much.

With a hand reaching out to her, he pulled her to him, letting her rest her head in his chest, something that he savoured because it wouldn’t be long until she’ll be gone for who knows how long.

“Is it selfish of me to say I don’t want to break up with you?” Sae was asking her, genuinely. He didn’t know how to handle this—when life held different paths for two people in love, wasn’t it just common sense that they could still tread it and yet be together? Was long distance really the end of everything they had?

Mirin sniffled just a little before she pulled away and forced herself to smile, something that Sae hated. It was always the fake ones that irked him, even now.

“Is it selfish for me to think that we’re supposed to?”

Maybe he didn’t know the answer. But all he knew was that if she still felt like they should, then he’d concede. He was always weak when it came to her. It was always the same. He couldn’t imagine being weak to anyone else. It was her. Only her.

“Fine, we’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he told her, a tone so gentle that no one but her has ever heard. But he drew close, tipping her chin up so she would look at him, his teal eyes appreciating every inch of her beautiful face, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and the most beautiful one he thought he would ever see. “But you know something?”

Mirin swallowed the lump in her throat, the amount of love she felt threatening to swallow her whole. “What?”

Sae let out a deep chuckle, a soft one before he pressed his lips against hers, a promise laid between their lips like it was a secret only they both would keep.

“Nothing would stop me from waiting for you to come back. So come back to me, okay? Come back, I’ll wait for you.”

That night when you get home, you feel just slightly numb. After hearing what you did, it’s no surprise. You’ve always been kind of weak when it comes to feelings. You’re more heart over mind and you’d choose your heart over and over again even if you had no more blood left to bleed.

You think you’re never getting over it until you walk in and realise that Sae’s in the kitchen, setting your dinner down on the table. It’s like your tears automatically dissipate once you look into his eyes.

“Oh, just nice,” is all he mumbles before he sits down at his place on the entirely too-big dining table for the two of you.

Across from him, you sit down as you look at the spread before you. A steak on each of your plates, potato puree at the side. In the middle there’s assorted sides of mushrooms, corn kernels and what you assume to be a tray of sauces for the meat.

“Did you cook all of these?” You ask, almost breathless. You’re about to say he’s a much better cook than you are, until Sae speaks up.

“No.” He seems nearly unwilling to answer you, a delicate frown on his face. “Accidentally burnt the pans when I tried to cook.”

“Huh?” You spin your head around to find the sink filled with all your pans, and from the looks of it, Sae had been trying to scrub the burnt portions off unsuccessfully.

“We need to buy new pans.”

Sae says this all too monotonously, like he’s half-robot and half completely embarrassed, that you can’t help but laugh out loud. Besides, it’s kind of cute that there’s a faint pink on his cheeks. You’ve never seen that before.

He looks at you incredulously, like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh at him like he’s a damn clown. Flinging a mushroom at you with his fork, he rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.

Pouting at him mockingly, you decide to tease him a little more. “You didn’t touch anything else in the house and ruin them, did you?”

And you were joking, until you realise Sae’s averting his gaze, stuffing his mouth full with corn kernels.

“Sae!”

“We might need to get new stuff for the laundry room too,” he confesses, talking with his mouth full. (Spoiler: you find out later that he put the wrong detergents in the washer and accidentally flooded the laundry room.)

Still, you think it’s sort of endearing that he tried to do the chores while you were the one out for a change, so you stop yourself from making fun of him too much. It’s not like whatever you learned earlier isn’t still sitting in the back of your head (because a part of you wonders if he’s doing all this out of guilt), but some part of you wants to be selfish and let yourself feel special, even if it’s delusional, at least for a little bit.

You want to feel like the wife he misses when you’re not around, like the person he would think of when his mind strays. Is this all too much to ask?

Maybe you just can’t help yourself, so you bring yourself to ask: “Sae, why did you agree to this?”

There’s a pregnant pause in the room, the only sounds filling the silence being the stainless steel cutlery hitting the plates as Sae adjusts himself. “Why did you?”

You suppose that maybe it’ll be easier for him to share if you start first, so you bite the bait. “Long story but… if I don’t then it’ll fall to my sister and she’s happy with someone else.” You swallow the meat in your mouth, the fat rendered so well it makes you crave for more. “I don’t want her to have to sacrifice that. Our parents aren’t exactly the nicest people in the world.”

Sae listens to you, an understanding settling in his chest. He could laugh from the coincidence of it all. “Same, but for my brother,” he tells you, prodding at his steak. “And he’s happy with soccer, not some girl. Can’t get a girl to save his life.”

Somehow, you can hear the quiet fondness that he has for Rin that makes you believe he’s a good brother.

“Would a marriage affect his career all that much?”

There’s a certain complexity behind Sae’s expression when you ask that question, something that you can’t decipher. But he scoffs, “let’s just say, my parents aren’t the nicest people either. I would know.”

And something tells you that it’s not something you want to ask yet, so you let his answer sit with you.

“Oh, speaking of parents,” Sae brings up his phone, switching the subject and handing it over to you. It’s a string of texts between him and his mother, apparently. You hold it up to your face, reading through and it appears they’d gotten you both tickets. “Mine got us both tickets, so.”

As you scroll, a grin appears on your face as you look at him. “Honeymoon tickets to Korea?” You’re almost squealing. It’s been a long while since you’ve last had a vacation, and ten days of distraction sounds really nice after all the information you’d just learned today.

Sae rolls his eyes, though you don’t miss the slight tug upwards at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, so get packing, we leave in two days.”

And as excited as you are, you feel a vibration and the brief flash of ‘dummy’ messaging him, the only part of the preview that you can see being: no, take me with you :(

You’re pretty sure it vibrates some more but by then, you’re already handing the phone back and Sae just locks his phone without bothering. Shaking your head, you try to stuff that image back to the deepest crevices of your mind, determined to not let it ruin your mood for your getaway.

Ex lover or not, Sae is still your husband and it’s not like he hates this (by the looks of things, it’s only been getting better and better), so you’re still hell bent on making things work.

Two days fly by way too quickly.

The day after Sae tells you about the trip, you immediately get to work at packing. Ten days is not a short trip and you plan to make full use of it, and for that, you have to be ready.

You had spent the whole day buying anything you would need—travel-friendly items and whatnot—while commuting back home to your parents’ house (at a timing you know they’re at work, of course!) to take anything you might’ve left there that you needed. Just as you left the house, nostalgia took over as you looked around at the place where you grew up.

It’s strange. People say to cherish what time you have with your parents, that one day you’re going to move out and you’re going to miss it.

You don’t feel like that’s necessarily true, because you’re living proof. The only thing you’d miss is your sister and you still talk to her everyday. Meanwhile, the only times your mother or father ever talks to you is to ask you about your marriage and warning you not to annoy Sae too much, as though it was a given and that it shouldn’t be the other way around.

Maybe it doesn’t make much sense; you and Sae (or maybe just you) trying to be a family when you both have no idea what a proper family is like. Even if it is just on paper.

Now you’re on a town car to the airport and you’re fiddling with your passport in your hands, staring out the window like a little child that’s going overseas for the first time. (Next to you, Sae’s thinking the exact same thing—you do look so much like an excited child. Or maybe a puppy.)

Of course, Sae’s parents waste no expenses in gifting you two first-class seats. Not that you’ve never been in first class, but it’s nice to be next to Sae, and you catch yourself, realising just how quickly you’re catching feelings.

“What?” Sae’s just getting ready to turn his phone to flight-safe mode when he catches you staring, a hint of smugness forming inside of him.

Even with a small partition separating your seats, you can see his teal eyes staring at you, long lashes fluttering in all its glory. Instead of offering an answer, you just shake your head and lean back, busying yourself by adjusting the screen in front of you. 

Being in a state of denial is easy; it’s actually fun to sit in first class next to Sae, on a three-hour flight to your honeymoon, annoying him each chance you get, earning yourself a death stare every instant before laughing yourself silly when he flips off at you. It’s been a few weeks, but you think you’ve grown accustomed to what Sae is like that you know his middle fingers to you are never meant to be taken seriously and his silence is just how he is when he isn’t fully opened up. It nearly makes you think you’re crazy for doubting him and yet you don’t have the balls to question him about any of that. Not yet, because you’re not ready for this to end (if it will).

The itinerary had already been planned out by Sae’s mother, but it wasn’t like either of you wanted to follow it. One, Sae likes to do things spontaneously anyway and two, well, you have a feeling that he might want to treat this like a solo trip. It’s not like either of you have properly been husband and wife much to have a proper honeymoon together.

So count you surprised when you suggested that you both try to do solo trips around the city and just meet up for dinner, only to have Sae agree and yet follow you wherever you decide to go that first day.

At first, you were just wondering whether he had the same plans, but after he followed you into a Sephora looking absolutely clueless and then getting all flustered and sticking to you the moment the staff there asked him if he wanted to do a skin test, you allow yourself to think that he’s actually tagging along with you.

“What are you doing?” You decide to ask after exiting another store, carrying no less than five bags thanks to your anxiety of asking Sae what he’s up to.

On his part, he merely shrugs and looks away, hands in his coat pocket, looking absolutely like a model out of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if he’s really yours. On paper, at least.

“This is our honeymoon, right? Makes sense that we’re together.” That’s all the explanation Sae offers, his gaze hovering over the bags you’re carrying, before he leans closer. “Besides, you’re my wife,” he says, gently grabbing your bags and carrying it for you.

He doesn’t say that it’s just on paper this time. And you can’t help but read into it. It’s perplexing how easily his words can affect you. It has your heart doing somersaults and your lips nervously pursing together.

“So, where next?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.

And maybe you’re a little too excited for this pleasant turn of events that you’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at him. “Wait, really?” 

You can’t even hide the glee in your voice and Sae, for the first time, smiles—even if he’s doing it as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yes, stupid,” he tells you, chuckling as you hop slightly in excited. “Are we going or are you just gonna stand here like a little puppy?”

With excited nods and a little squeal, you clap your hands together before daring to put your fingers around his wrist, dragging him with you.

Sae follows quietly behind you, staring at you as you happily tread ahead, your hands warm and guarding his against the slightly chilly air, hair flowing in the wind and he suddenly thinks you’re even prettier than he first thought you were. And then he starts thinking that maybe this part of his life that’s planned by his parents isn’t so bad after all.

Though, when you get back to the hotel, you find out that Sae has already specially asked for two separate beds, to the surprise of all the hotel staff, because of course, Mrs Itoshi had booked the honeymoon suite for the both of you. Special requests for that room usually mean flowers on the bed, or breakfast just the way they like it—not for the groom of all people to be asking for a separate bed altogether, especially when he insists there is no additional person.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Sae tells you the moment you get back to the hotel that night, gesturing to the bed set up by the television, much to your bummer. But you suppose you can’t expect too much—hand holding was already a miracle in itself.

“Oh yeah, sure,” you shrug it off, like it doesn’t even matter. Deep down you feel like a rock was dropped from your throat to the bottom of your stomach, forming a gaping hole in your heart along the way that you tried to will into non-existence.

Still, somehow, despite this little obstacle, you find yourself optimistic after being witness to Sae’s change in demeanour.

“Hey, Y/N?”

When you turn around, you see a hint of hesitation flicker across his teal eyes before he shakes his head, brushing it off.

“It’s nothing, goodnight.”

Although you’re curious, you decide not to press him about it. Offering a small smile, you nod.

“Goodnight, Sae.”

Over the course of your entire honeymoon, you find that you shouldn’t be chiding yourself for being delusional in the first place.

For once in this one-sided love affair, you feel like perhaps it’s not so one-sided at all. Because from what you’ve learned about Sae in your close-to-minimal time together, he isn’t someone that you can force into doing anything he doesn’t want to. At least when it comes to mundane activities which includes trips. (Unless you’re his parents who you have no doubt in your mind probably mirrors your own and have their ways of controlling him, per se.)

But it’s hard to think he doesn’t want to do any of this with you when he’s so compliant. He follows your bucket list of things to do and doesn’t complain once. He lets you drag him to the palace and looks only slightly concerned when you tell him you want to “do the thing where we can dress up like royalty and take pictures” but he only sighs and concedes within seconds.

When he comes out of the room looking like the most handsome prince you’d ever met, you’re too shy to meet his gaze but he tilts your head up to look at him for most of the shots anyway. With his face so close to yours, with these kinds of small gestures which he willingly initiates, you begin to wonder if it’s possible to make him happy in this possibly loveless marriage.

Spending ten days together, surrounded by just each other and doing things that couples do; it nearly makes you feel as if this is real. Like Sae really loves you and that he had asked you to marry him one day out of the blue because of it. Nothing like how you felt that first time you met him, in your dressing room minutes before you were about to become husband and wife, being talked down to and told that this was a facade and could be nothing more.

Now he’s here with you, sticking close and following you around, entertaining your requests for activities, falling asleep on your shoulder when you were on the plane to Jeju, and sometimes he absentmindedly holds your hand like he’s used to it. He helps you with your luggage always, and he makes sure you get food whenever your stomach starts growling, and he’s more observant than you give him credit for because he starts picking the radish off your plate without you asking.

Your album’s suddenly filled with pictures of you and Sae and you were hesitant at first but dragging him to the amusement park when he wasn’t for it at first was a good decision; for a while, you get to see what he’s like when all the downturned lines on his face reverse, when he looks the most like an actual guy in his mid-twenties, enjoying life instead of brooding all the time. Thanks to that, your pictures are more both of you smiling or being goofy together instead of faceless pictures because neither of you feel like showing your faces at all.

By the time your honeymoon is about to come to an end, you find that maybe there’s hope for this after all. That maybe you’d just been overthinking everything prior to this and it shouldn’t be worth worrying over after the trip ends.

But you find that hope can be flimsy sometimes. 

On the seventh night there, you and Sae are both on your bed, in the actual bedroom, fighting (not literally) over a multiplayer game. Just two adults hunched over one phone playing frustrating games meant for kids. (Somehow it makes you feel like perhaps neither of you ever had a normal childhood and this is something to make up for it.) It’s all fun and games until you see a throng of message notifications from dummy mixed in with several from what you presume to be Sae’s group chat with the guys.

And you can keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, except Sae immediately stops after the current round and tells you he has to take a call. And you already know more or less who he’s going to talk to. And just like that, you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.

The subsequent nights (and days) aren’t easy for you either. After just giving up on thinking and forcing yourself to sleep that night, you’d been stuck with paranoia everyday. Especially when you realise that he’s starting to take calls every night outside on the balcony where he’s sure you’re out of earshot. 

You wonder if he’s being lovey dovey with her outside when he talks to her. You wonder if he imagines you as her when you’re out together. You wonder if he wishes you were her. You wonder if all this is just a gimmick; a test run for when he does the actual things with the actual girl he wants to do them with.

Safe to say, by your last night there, you’re a mess. The moment you get back from trying to be happy all day (which was a disaster because you wouldn’t stop trying to minimise contact with Sae), you tell him you’re too tired and that you’ll just go ahead and go to bed.

Which, of course, is code for ‘you just want to lie in bed and cry all night’.

Sae couldn’t even get a word out before you shut the door on him, plopping down onto the bed and crying into your pillow. Maybe holding everything in was a bad idea. Now you’re bursting with emotions and you try to call Reo a few minutes later but you can’t even get him because he’s busy somehow and you’re positive that the gods hate you right now.

There is one thing about being on rock bottom that you like, though; at least you know how you feel. You’re exhausted and upset and envious because you wish you could be that person for your husband. But you keep getting reminded that you’re not. That somehow you’re just a mere stand-in until he marries his real wife next time. The one he promised to love forever. (Technically, he vowed that to you on your wedding day too, but that’s not the same and you know it.)

Deciding to shut off your phone and have this time to yourself to cry your eyes out, you miss the sudden swarm of notifications that come in. And thanks to you stuffing your head into the pillow, you don’t notice Sae opening the door and peeking inside, an unfamiliar feeling settling inside him at the sound of you sobbing.

He gently closes the door behind him as he walks to you, your back turned to him, your hands and feet hanging onto the bolster like a koala to a branch. Slowly, he saunters over to you, almost like he’s afraid to. When his hand rests on your shoulder and he sinks into the mattress beside you, you stiffen up for just a moment before spinning around and sobbing into his chest instead.

You didn’t expect him to even enter your room at all, much less let you stain his shirt or hold you close when you’re being emotional like this, but he stays there, hand gently rubbing your arm, up and down, a gentle kiss placed on the top of your head. It makes you wonder what kind of games he’s playing. Is this Sae not being able to make up his mind and that’s why he’s still so nice to you even when he has his old flame in the back of his head?

“Do you… want me to leave you alone?” He asks, though you can argue it’s kind of a stupid question but then you realise he probably doesn’t know much about actual relationships so you let it slide.

You shake your head in response, deciding that as stupid as it all sounds, you want to throw your hat in the ring. You’ve fallen for him, and you want him for yourself.

And maybe it’s wrong of you to project this on him, but your absence of a normal family where a home is not just a house and where parents shower their children with actual love and concern makes you yearn for one yourself. And maybe it’s not a great idea to want that from a man you married from being forced to, but thanks to this honeymoon you can see that there’s a flicker of spark there.

That Sae’s not emotionless and he’s definitely not cold to you. Not anymore. That if you guys had been given more time instead of being rushed into things by your parents then maybe the whole wedding could’ve gone without any of the hitches you experienced. That every single radish he picked off your plate, every picture he took with you, every time he held your hand, every time he pulled you close—none of that was manufactured, was it?

So isn’t it possible for you to be happy with him? So is it still foolish or selfish of you to want to be with him?

Is it too much if you ask him about it?

“Hey, Sae?” Your voice is soft and timid and more vulnerable than you’ve ever shown, but he hears you loud and clear, his “hm?” resounding against his chest, right next to your ear. “Can you stay?”

A few seconds of pause, and he replies, “of course.”

You shake your head slightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you know, what we said on our wedding day.” Your voice is entirely muffled, still Sae understands.

There’s an even longer pause this time, and you think that Sae’s just thinking of a way to get out of this until you hear him speak up again.

“Idiot,” he chides, but you can hear the soft affection in his voice. Suddenly, you feel his pinky wrapping around your own, and he holds it near your face. “I promise you,” he whispers, and you wish you could see the expression on his face, “I’ll stay.”

It might be wishful thinking but you think he really means it.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover @xoxojisu @karmatiz @sagejin @minnieminnie00-got7 @hearts4heidi @shiinobu-x @n1uh @prepchuu @leeyzhuo @shidouryusm @tsukishiro-yue2402 @kaiserkisser @pookiebearcave @dcvilxswish @saeskiss @whtflrr @arminseas @raphsimp @saharei @danibxe @lectris00 @comet-kun @ishitam67 @gskill @sweet2wthsblog *bolded: can’t tag you due to your settings >_<

[dozing-marshmallow]

can i request for a readerx chris mclean. who is the epitomie of a sweetheart and a beyond angelic wife, also a total thicc trophy wife? Like she is so caring towards anyone and anything that even the coldest of hearts melts in her presence. When she's there, everyone's day is 100% made and she's the highlight of the day without even trying.

Chris is whipped for her and will always embrace her when he can. He always wants to finish early to spend more time w his beloved wife.

And she even gets to cook delicious and nutritious food for the contestants for a week straight because she feels bad for them, and chef is beyond delighted to have her be a helping hand in the kitchen with him. She even sneaks some before bed fruit snacks in case they are still a lil hungry.

So essentially, thicc! wife reader part 2. Got you!💛 First post of the new year! I hope everyone’s been having a fantastic start and may lots of love, good health and happiness find you all! Surround yourself with good people, use the time you have wisely and take good care of yourself!❤️

CHRIS MCLEAN’S “THICC”! WIFE! READER HEADCANONS PART 2

Even the coldest of hearts melt in your presence.

Like one morning, Heather was the first one up and in the mess hall, possibly to strategise.

“Good morning, Heather!” you beamed at the “Queen Bee” girl,“Very nice day today, isn’t it?” 

“It was.” She replied, delight caught up in her throat as though you were ugliness itself.

“Ah, you mean I ruined your morning? Sorry sorry...” you kept your smile,“I’ll excuse myself.” You were busy anyway.

You were making your way out when she grabbed your arm,“I didn’t mean that... Sorry.”

As one of the few people she didn’t mind, you had to say,“You’re forgiven!”

Although the day’s grazing challenge was over, Chris wasn’t moving on; he was standing there, with a chunk of his consciousness drained out his face until an unconscious part of him must have realised the dozens of eyes on him.

“What? Is there something on my face?” he inquired to the teenagers, giving himself a reason to be self conscious.

They looked among themselves puzzled,“Um... Isn’t this the part where you tell us to vote for someone to go home?” no one would ever have thought the day would come where a contestant is reminding the host of his job.

That’s what was so concerning? Because he didn’t tell them something they already knew?,“Yeah yeah, yawn. Go then!” what a wasteful reason to pause on his marriage daydream.

Timeskip to that episode’s elimination ceremony. The teens were left more confused on their seats of wood, with the goth girl being the one to voice why.

“Um... Where’s Chris?”

Appalled, Chef clicked his tongue in reply,“You blind, girl? Chris is right-“ the co-host rotates around, not expecting Chris to suddenly own an empty flour bag of a head sitting on a neck of straw and arms skinned down to indefinitely stretched out sticks.

That thing couldn’t be Chris. It was too elegant,“...Oh.”

The real Chris was running to the mess hall where you always were every evening, sweeping the floor.

“Chris! You’re already here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be!” he asked, ushering your voluptuous figure against his,“Ah... I can never get tired of you.”

“Aw me neither, but...don’t you have an elimination ceremony to host?” It was usually his favourite part of the episode, unless you misheard and it was a reward challenge...?

“Nahh. Chef will handle that, I wanted to see you more.” ...never mind then! He lets go of you and then noticed the worn out broomstick in your hand,“You know you don’t need to do that.”

“Ohh but it’s okay!” you grinned, kissing him on his smooth cheek,“Anything for my husband!”

Choosing to stay up later against your husband’s pleas, it was just you and Chef in the kitchen, organising, cleaning.

You peered down at the large pot of sticky looking gruel that Chef must have prepared in advance for the kids. Your nostrils burn. You’ve tolerated them eating like that for weeks, but it’s Sunday, the end of another week. Maybe you could do something different.

Chef approaches the side of the kitchen that you’re at, so you turn to him having just seen the meal,"Oh Chef, do you really want to serve all this inedible slop? They’ve been eating that for weeks... Who knows how bad their health will be by the time they’re our age? How about for one week, we make them some nice delicious nutritious food?" Just one week!,“They deserve a chance to be healthy!”

To your surprise, that suggestion went under his approval very quickly via his nodding and dropping a clashing tower of dirty dishes in the sink,“I gotta admit, I was thinkin’ about doing that for a while now. But Chris would cut my pay down even more!”

Ah! You shake your head in disbelief,“He’s still underpaying you? I’ll have a word with him about that in the morning!”

But he too shook his head, taking a look in the fridge for some ingredients,“I’m used to it, but I appreciate it. No one else ever cares for the damn things I do for this show.” 

“And that’s not okay!” you exclaim passionately, coming up next to him, speculating the contents of the fridge,“You can’t just let all this hard work go unseen! Did Chris ever give you that vacation?”

“Uh uh!” in remembered anger, he slams the fridge door close,“Guy went without me! Been searching for him for weeks just to hear that!”

You gasp. No way Chris coincidentally forgot that detail when he went on that “solo” trip... How devastating!,“That’s just cruel, even for him! You know what, you have worked really hard. You deserve a good paid month off!”

His anger condensed,“Oh no, I can’t... What would Chris do?”

“I’ll talk to him.” you pull onto his arm, getting him to look at you,“You will get all the checks you missed and the vacation you deserve. I promise.”

“I...” his face softens into a smile. Not the taunt you in your nightmares smile, the real show of gratitude,“Thank you, (Y/N).” 

“It’s nothing!” you’ll make sure it’ll happen, grabbing a ladle,“For now, shall we begin making these fantastic wonderful meals for our fantastic wonderful contestants?”

He nods, smirking as he grabs a knife.

The next few days were Heaven for the contestants. You haven’t seen them this happy since their individual teams win! Heck, they were asking for seconds, and they never ask for seconds!

Your husband observes them filling their stomachs up as quickly as they were filling their plates.

“You mad at me?” you asked him, smiling.

“Nah.” He responds, tracing his lips on your neck,“I could never be mad at you.”

He was mad at Chef though.

Kidding!

“After this, you cannot make anything else for them, okay?” he instructed after pulling away from the kiss, still having a very short distance between your faces.

“Okaaaay.” your answer was melodic in amusement.

“(Y/N).” his wasn’t, causing you to look into his eyes for a repeat of command. However, all you got was another kiss to your lips.

Oh, love!

Though, on a serious note, you had your stash of fruit snacks for them, hidden in Chef’s cabinet that was still declining in quantity.

“Have this in case you’re still hungry.” you whispered, handing a colourful packet to the party boy one time.

“Are you sure? Did Chris say it’s cool?” he asked cautiously.

You shut an eyelid,“He doesn’t have to know.” Technically, you weren’t making them food.

Well, if his wife says so... “Thanks, (Y/N)!” Geoff gladly receives it, later privately remarking and sharing with DJ,“(Y/N)’s a real gem, you know? We can’t be taking her for granted. She could have been as bad as Chris man!”

DJ would add on, stirring in his bunk,“She’s not a gem. That’s an Angel.”

[inzenial]

marriage - regulus black

TW: I do not condone or promote forced marriage or any form of abuse or mistreatment in relationships.

This text may contain triggering content for some readers, including references to emotional abuse and coercion.

         ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

I woke up and glanced at Regulus sleeping next to me. I had always known that I would marry a pureblood wizard. My mother had drilled it into me from a young age that marrying well was the most important thing I could do. So when I was told that I would be marrying Regulus Black, I was not surprised. In fact, I was almost relieved that I would not have to go through the process of finding a suitable husband myself.

However, I was not blind to the fact that Regulus did not want to marry me. I could see the disdain in his eyes every time we were forced to be in each other's company. It hurt me that he could not even try to get to know me, but I understood that he had been forced into this marriage just as I had.

But it seemed that nothing I did could change his opinion of me. I tried to be kind to him, but he rebuffed me at every turn. It was clear that he did not want to be married to me, and I could not help but feel hurt by his rejection.

Despite my disappointment, I knew that I had to make the best of the situation. I was determined to be a good wife to Regulus, even if he did not want me. I hoped that one day he would see that I was not the enemy and that we could find some common ground. But for now, I would have to be content with being the wife of a man who hated me.

Regulus was on the other side of the bed just staring at the ceiling as if he hadn't a care in the world. He was silent for a moment before he spoke. "You know this marriage was completely unnecessary, right?"

"But what was the point in them arranging this? You know I hate you, right?" He kept staring at the ceiling.

"Yes, I do. For what reason, the world may never know," you respond, mumbling the last part as you go up to go to the shared bathroom in your bedroom.

"Probably to spite me." He said before slowly getting up and heading into the bathroom as well. He leaned against the wall as he looked at you in the mirror. He stared right through your eyes but it was clear by his expression that there was nothing but hatred towards you.

"What do you want?"

"For you to go away." His voice was a soft but cold as his eyes narrowed at you. You'd never seen him like this before.

"Well, I'm not going away, not for a long time, so maybe stop being so tiresome and just get used to this marriage because, whether you like it or not, you're married to me," you say, on the verge of yelling as you had about enough of him.

Regulus seemed to grow even taller as he stared down at you. 

"I'm the Head of House Black, my family's reputation is everything." Regulus paused before he took another step closer.

"You're telling me to get used to this?"

"Exactly. Good job of getting the point into your thick skull." You responded, still mad at him for complaining and blaming everything on you.

Regulus stared at you before rolling his eyes. "You know why we're married?" He asked.

"To ensure that I continue the Black family line." He was still staring at you. Your breath hitched just slightly as a cold wave washed over you. 

"So?"

"Do you know how children are made?" Regulus' tone changed as he looked down at you. He said as he took a step closer.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm only doing my duty." Regulus answered as he took another step towards you.

"No"

Regulus was silent for a moment. He seemed confused at your answer. "No?" He looked deep into your eyes.

"You understand this is our duty, right?" 

"Yes, I realise that, but I'm not doing it just to please our parents or for me to get pregnant. I'm also not going to do it with someone who hates me." You say this as you place both hands on his chest and push him back slightly.

Regulus took a step back, then let out a sigh. He ran his hand through his hair before looking back at you. He said nothing for a moment, but his eyes seemed to burn you.

"Our family needs a child, do you know what happens if they don't get one?" 

"We'll just tell them that we're trying and that it's taking longer than expected, but until you get over your hatred for me, I'm not doing anything with you." You say this as you move downstairs to make a cup of tea.

"And how do you think they'll respond to that when the time passes and you're still not pregnant." Regulus followed you into the kitchen. It was clear he was angry with you now which almost caught you by surprise.

"Well then, get over your hatred faster," you say with your back to him as you watch the kettle.

Regulus leaned against the wall once again and took a breath before talking. "Have you ever thought of why I hate you?" His tone shifted again.

"Yes, I have, and I cannot come up with a single reason why you do."  You turn to face him.

Regulus seemed to struggle to find the words to say. "I hate you because.. you remind me of my parents." Regulus said after a moment as he looked away from you.

His tone seemed softer now; he seemed sad—not angry, not cold, just sad. When he looked back at you, he almost looked ashamed.

"Our parents forced me into this marriage I did not want, just like how they forced me into everything else." Regulus was silent for a moment.

"Regulus,  I am not your parents; in fact, I'd like to think I'm the complete opposite, and I know you don't like that we're married, but we have to make it work." You say, softly.

He just stood there for a moment before he took a step forward and wrapped you in a hug.

"I'm sorry." He said as he tightened his grip on you. Regulus seemed more like a scared little boy than the man you had previously known.

You sighed and pulled away from him as you heard the screeching noise from the kettle.

"Let me make us some tea." Regulus said as he slowly went to the cupboard and took out two matching tea cups.

"You just sit down." He kept his back facing you while he prepared the tea.

"Thank you," you replied as you took the steaming mug from him.

Regulus took his own mug and sat down across from you.

He looked down at the table in silence for a moment before looking up at you. He took a sip of his drink and waited for you to do the same.

You start to take a sip from your mug, but it's too hot, and you burn your tongue slightly. 

"Fuck," you hiss.

Regulus smiled when you cursed and he couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

"Always wait for the tea to cool first." He warned you.

"Yeah, a bit too late for that." You smiled.

"You know, this is one of the first times I've seen you smile" Regulus took another sip of his tea before his eyes met yours once again.

He stayed silent for a moment before he said, "Do you think we could ever get along?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Can I ask you something?" Regulus' tone was serious as he looked at you.

"Yes?"

"Why did you accept our parent's proposition to marry me?" Regulus' tone was soft once more.

"Because you seemed nicer than the other options my mother presented me."

Regulus was silent for a moment before he sighed. He placed his tea cup down on the table and looked at you properly for the first time.

"Did you know I was going to be so... cold to you?" Regulus seemed to want to ask more questions. He looked almost nervous now.

"No, I didn't, but I got used to it, I guess."

"Why would you get used to it?" Regulus seemed confused. "I've been awful to you this entire time and you're okay with that?"

"Well, I wasn't okay with it, but nothing I said or did would change your mind, so I grew to sort of ignore the words that came out of your mouth."

"I'm sorry that I acted that way towards you, I'm a complete and utter arse." He spoke quickly. Regulus seemed to know full well that he was in the wrong. He had always blamed everyone but himself.

"No one is deserving of the treatment I've given you." Regulus didn't look away from you as he spoke.

"I'm not sure if I could forgive you right away, but this is good progress."

"I don't expect forgiveness. After how I treated you, you owe me nothing." Regulus took another sip of his tea.

In this moment, he didn't seem like a Head of House, he just seemed like a tired and overworked young man.

"I'm getting a bit tired; I think I might go take a nap."

Regulus looked tired as well. His expression seemed almost sad as he looked at you.

"You probably should." He stood up from his seat and picked up his mug.

"I'll get the dishes and then I think I should sleep as well." Regulus said in a more tired tone than you'd ever heard from him.

"Leave the dishes; we'll do them in the morning. You need to sleep too."

Regulus paused for a moment before he slowly nodded.

"Okay, thank you." He placed his mug into the sink then left the kitchen to head upstairs. You could hear him start walking up the steps.

You followed him upstairs to your bedroom. You went to the bathroom to quickly do your skincare routine and found him lying in bed under the covers.

When you walked into the bedroom you realised something. Regulus was in bed, half-covered by the sheets but he didn't appear to be tired, in fact, he was wide awake.

Regulus turned over to look at you and his eyes seemed to sparkle slightly in the dim glow. He stared at you for a moment before asking, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?" You replied as you laid down next to him.

"Would you hold my hand?" Regulus asked. You could hear the tiredness in his voice.

He wanted you to hold his hand. It was a simple request, but it made something inside your heart flutter just a little.

"Yes, Regulus"  You responded, taking in his hand as you laid down and tried to sleep.

His hand was warm and you were glad to be able to hold it. It made you feel safe in a way you hadn't felt in a long time.

Regulus was silent for a moment before he spoke once again. "Thank you." He turned over towards you so he was facing you while still laying in bed.

Regulus' eyes seemed to close when you took his hand and began to lay down beside him. In only moments, he was fast asleep. It wasn't long before he fell into a dreamless sleep. His grip was slightly tight on your hand.

You lay in bed awake for a few minutes before you slowly fell asleep as well. Regulus was still holding your hand.

A/N : This isn't what I usually write but I went along with it. If you have any requests, send me a message.

-zoe  ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[astrobiscuits]

Asteroids you should check out in Solar Return chart part 1

Hii, i'm backk all :3

Before i start today's post, i'd like to thank each and everyone one of you who engaged with my last post! Your support means the world to me <33

I was really shy to start posting and i postponed it for a long time lol

Anyway, back to astro business🪐

(The first asteroid observation is inspired by one of @a-d-nox post's)

🌹 Asteroids Orpheus (3361) and Eurydike (75) indicate the year you’re gonna get engaged or married.

If the aspect is positive (trine, sextile) then it indicates marrying one of your greatest loves, but it will eventually end in divorce. If the aspect is negative (opposite, square) then the marriage is doomed from the beginning and it will still end up in divorce. The girls (for some reason i noticed it's only relevant in your chart if you're a female? idk why tho) who don’t have an exact aspect (0-3 degree orb) between these 2 asteroids in any year in their solar return chart may still get married, but it won’t be a passionate love marriage and it’s much more likely for it to last a long time.

(For the next asteroids, check if they aspect SR Sun, Moon, ASC, DSC, IC, MC, Venus, Mars or Mercury)

⚰️ Having asteroid Grieve (4451) prominent in solar return chart indicates a year when someone important to you will die.

It gives you information about the way you process this person’s death. It may also indicate just a great loss, even if the person hasn’t died in the physical realm (for ex. a difficult break-up).

Story time! (nobody asked me lol)

Back in 2021 i used to talk with this guy online, we were in a "long-distance relationship" even if soon after i realised i just got attached to him strongly and i didn't actually have romantic feelings for him. It lasted around 5 months which is a lot for me (i've got Sagittarius Venus y'all, i'm noncommittal af). Even if i've been wanting for the relationship to end for a long time, when it actually ended, i had a very hard time moving on from him. Turns out i had Grieve conjunct my Sun in 3rd house that year, which was also opposing my 9th house Uranus. I'm honestly glad i'm over it now.

⭐ I noticed nobody has been mentioning this asteroid yet, but having Zdislava (5275) proeminent in solar return chart is a big indicator of becoming famous that year.

Zdislava is a Czech girl name which literally translates to "created with glory". It is the feminine form of Zdislav, which was duke of Croatia in the late 9th century.

⭐ Of course, you can also check asteroid Fama (408) which is, well, self-explanatory.

Having Zdislava/Fama asteroid conjuncting your SR Mars would make you gain fame suddenly, basically wake up the next day famous lulz. You might also be known for your drive, never giving up attitude or you might become popular in the sport industry that year (it does depend on the sign it is in tho).

Having Zdislava/Fama asteroid conjuncting your SR Venus would make you famous for your looks. You will attract the attention of the opposite sex quite easily that year. You might also become famous in the fashion industry or in the arts.

That's all for today folks!! Soon i will start to give paid readings, so follow me if you don't wanna miss it <3

[bi-ss]

~ Ties that bind ~

Bucky x reader- arranged marriage.

Summary: You agreed to arrange marriage when you were little, after seeing who you are to marry. You wish you could go back.

Part 1

⚠️Warnings- Sharon being a bitch, yelling, swearing. (Yes, ik not everyone hates sharon, but if you dont, that's ok :) sharon personality isn't my cup of tea. I also made this a little shorter just so I can't make part 3 a little longer and more drama filled)

He sits with a grunt, then fixs his hair and jeans before his mum slaps his hand away and down, tutting as she does so. His dad, gorgeous Barnes, starts chatting with your dad about the empire he's built and what it's become and how's he's changed for the best. This was rudely interrupted by James clear his icky throat.

"Now, mister Ziegler, that's German, isn't it? You don't sound German.." He gets looks from his parent in confusion as they wonder what he's doing. "I know my father didn't drag me down here for nothing." he sounds so cocky... how that will all change.

"My parents are German, moved to Newyork in the 1960's when they were teenagers. And you already know why you're here. Stop trying to act childish to get your way.." silents as he just stares at James before his wife giggles while whispering something in his ear before relaxing. More talking goes on and you honestly zoned out, nodding once in a while to seem to be paying attention, then you hear your name and see the papers you made at 16, then updated at 19. Your father flips the front page and starts reading out the rules, wants, and needs you require.

"Rule 1, I don't care if you really love me, just don't cheat." You sit there, already over James attitude and just him all together. He's been interrupting yours and his parents all night. It's clear he does want this, which makes you want this more. You're now sitting closer to James as his parents wanted to sit together, fair, I wouldn't want to volunteer to sit next to James either. As your dad reads the rules and requirements, his parents nod and seem to agree they are either responsible or able to be done. "Rule 6, adding to Rule 1, all partners must to broken off with -" in the corner of your eye, he's getting more annoyed. It looks like he wanted to talk the whole time but didn't, for some reason, probably self-respect. You were quick to realise he didn't have any self-respect.

You were pushed back to reality when your phone beeped and everyone looked at you, feeling embarrassed you quickly took it out about to silence it but a text reading "ma'am this lady to being quite a cunt" from kerry, kerry never swore, you looked up to your mother, clearing your throat you spoke. "I'm so very sorry, me and my mother must see to something" your mother was about to interjected "urgently" you added so she just nodded and you both quickly but calming went to the office doors and made it down the hall while hearing a screaming woman in the lobby.

"He's my boyfriend. Why should some rich slag have him?!" She roared "hes dating me, I should marry him. " She yelled, "She doesn't deserve him, I DO!!" She sounded pathetic. it's even giving you second-hand embarrassment. Your mother was about to shout, but James beat her to it, shouting her name just for her to look at him, then you. Surprised he yelled, you walked out the white marble grand staircase, your expensive heels clacking on the floor, holding back your dark green floor length delicate dress with diamonds covering your fingers and hands as rings and bracelets. When you're at the bottom, you kick the dress and sigh, "must be so hard being a spoiled brat." she spat at you.

You turn slowly and hum before walking to the kitchen "your boyfriend chose this spoiled brat" you giggled and pointed at your self has you enter the archway out of sight but still in ear shot of the fight that has begun, you stop when you see a sort off familiar face. "I know you, but where." You were behind the counter pouring yourself some Dr. pepper looking at ginger woman on a laptop.

"Natasha, I went to one of your charity events - for cancer," she explained to you and just nodding trying to remember, sitting next to her, "well natasha I'm.." she interrupted and stated she knew who you were. "How are you finding, Sharon?" Nat look at you with fake joy "that's her name" like the dots are connecting "she's a real bitch" she scoff while taking a sip of Dr pepper, Nat laughs a little before trying to conpose herself "she is, she thinks that as she dating James she's the boss of him and everyone else - like in the mob storys" it's your turn to giggle as you remember reading a story about romance in the mob and how they have it all wrong, most the time the big bosses never get in fights or gundowns. "I'm guess you work for James." She starts nodding, smiling. "For 4 years now, ask me anything." She seems to be too happy asking you that. "That's a test, so I won't answer." You shrugged, and she just hums and continued working on her laptop.

"What was her first question?" You look over slightly sipping your Dr. Pepper.

"She didn't get the memo and asked 2.. how big it was and if we ever dated. " She made a silly voice, acting out the quotes. You laughed as Nat roles her eyes, "And before goldy locks trys anything, yes we did for like 5 months." You shrugged and explained you didn't care and the past. Then the screaming from golden over there stopped, and the front door slammed.

James strut in like he own the place, and announce that they were leaving and the wedding would be in 5 days then left. The last part made you look at Nat in shock, but she just nodded. "James always has liked you, like a horny teenager. Why do you think he asked for you to marry him?" She let that float in the air before before she left, making sure she was in ear shot. You seemingly said to yourself that everyone loves you with you heard a small giggle, then the door closing again. What you didn't know was James heard all that, and his heart skipped a beat when it sounded as if you didn't hate him as he thought.

@learisa @unaxv @cjand10 @pattiemac1 @coffee-winter-and-silence

[luna-writes-stuff]

As The World Falls Down, Nikolai Lantsov

Song link

Fanfic, fem! reader

Hurt/comfort, angst with fluff ending

Word count: 2650

Tw: IS IT STURMHUND OR STURMHOND BECAUSE IT SOUNDS GERMAN SO I’VE ALWAYS SAID/WRITTEN STURMHUND BUT NOW THE TUMBLR TAGS ARE TELLING ME IT’S STURMHOND (yes I’ve read the books). Unintended infidelity, marriage, slight heartbreaking, Luna is an Alina-defender 4 life. Let me know if I missed any????

Summary: Nikolai’s proposal to Alina was strictly political. It made for a perfect alignment, even if love was lacking. Both parties agreed to this. However, Alina doesn’t know Nikolai is technically already married, though not on his birth name. He didn’t think much of the proposal, but you did. And after days of avoiding him, he finally talks with you, and you have a much-needed heart to heart.

Requested by @naushtheaspiringauthor

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“There's such a sad love Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel Open and closed Within your eyes.”

Sturmhund’s wife. Those were the words echoing around in your head. Sturmhund’s wife. Not Nikolai’s; Sturmhund’s. And the reality of it came crushing down after those awful words left his mouth.

You hadn’t officially married Nikolai. No - your contract stated his pseudonym. This was to ensure no hunters would come after you, trying to sell you for ransom or power. It was a very strategic move. Legally, you were bound to Sturmhund, but it was never something you and Nikolai had any difficulty with. He was Sturmhund after all, and between the two of you, that never stood in the way. It was weird to consider, but after only a couple weeks, you realised that the contract was the only thing that stated otherwise. Truth for you still was that you were married to Nikolai, and that had never been a lie.

Well, that came to stab you in the back after only a year.

“I'll place the sky Within your eyes.”

A reasonable part of your brain told you it was logical - it was smart. Of course Nikolai would propose to Alina. Politically, it made sense. It was a genius move. But the other eighty percent of your brain stenched from the betrayal. Seething fury and pain was buried deep underneath your skin, and no matter how nice and loving Alina had been, you couldn’t escape sneaking glares her way.

You never meant to. She was sweet and kind - she didn’t deserve it. But she was going to marry your husband. And he hadn’t even discussed it with you. That might have been the most painful about the entire ordeal: he never asked you.

It was never brought up in conversation, nor had he hinted towards it. It made you begin to wonder how long he had planned this out. And if he ever was going to tell you or ask you before proposing. Years spent with Nikolai before your marriage should have told you he would never do this out of love, but it felt like rubbing salt in a wound.

You hadn’t spoken to him in three days. In truth, you hadn’t seen him in three days. It might have been pettiness, but you were frightened you might do something stupid when you saw him again. So, you tried your very best to avoid him for as long as you could.

“There’s such a fooled heart Beatin' so fast. In search of new dreams A love that will last Within your heart.

Unfortunately, Nikolai wasn’t stupid. He knew you were avoiding him. He also knew exactly why. Then, every single time he tried to find you, something came in between. It was late at night, when he finally felt enough was enough. He had laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling endlessly. Sleep hadn’t come easy to him these last few days. You weren’t even showing up in your shared room anymore. Your pillow had gotten uncomfortably cold, and the clothes in your shared closet hadn’t moved since he made his decision.

Sitting up straight, he ran a hand through his hair, casting a glance to the empty spot beside him. Then, he stood up, hastily pulling on his robe as he left the room. Everyone had gone to sleep already, and the last people in the halls were either half asleep or keeping a watchful eye. A brief nod of recognition was given his way as Nikolai walked through the chilling halls.

He had no idea where to even start looking. You wouldn’t be in the most obvious spots; he knew you better than that. Tolya and Tamar had refused to tell him anything, even though he was sure they knew something. Their attitude towards him had changed slightly after his exchange with Alina, and he was sure they didn’t agree either. He didn’t mention it. He knew they’d shout at him, and he had enough on his shoulders as it was.

“I'll place the moon Within your heart.”

At night, Tamar would visit you, sometimes going with you to get some food in the late hours of the night. It was the only moment you could be given any peace. Right now, though, you had been alone.

Sitting at the long empty table, you chewed on a sandwich, topped with your favourite condiments. It was the most enjoyment you could get out of your day, and it was best celebrated in silence.

Papers of negotiations and terms were sprawled out across the kitchen, some weapons sitting in the corner of the room, hidden from plain sight. It never surprised you. You knew everyone had to be on their toes. It made it easier for you to focus on other things.

Like this delicious sandwich. “As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you. Every thrill is gone, Wasn't too much fun at all.”

“I might have known,” You heard from the entrance of the dining room, successfully drawing your attention. An unwanted scowl climbed onto your face as you stood up, holding the sandwich in one hand and the plate in another.

“I was just leaving,” You spoke with a full mouth, placing the plate in the sink, before making your way to the doorway. Not giving him another word, you pushed past him. “Wait,” He mumbled, grabbing your shoulder, forcing you to stop. You shrugged it off, turning around to face him. He looked slightly betrayed at the gesture, but composed himself quickly. “Can we not talk?”

“About?” You asked, disinterest in your voice. “Your new wife? She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” “Darling-“ Nikolai tried, but you had already turned around. “Goodnight, your highness.”

So, maybe you wanted to run up to him, sob into his shoulder and voice all your worries. Maybe, internally, that is what you needed most. But the mere sight of him now caused your blood to boil. And you could weep around that thought. Where he had once managed to make your heart skip a beat every time he looked at you, it now caused it to sink in agony. He made an oath to love you and no other. He made a promise. And political or not, it stung.

“But I'll be there for you. As the world falls down. Falling in love.”

You weren’t surprised when his quick feet caught up with you almost immediately, then slowing down to match your pace. You hated that he did that. He always did that. Asshole.

“Listen, I should have discussed this with you,” “Should you?” You interrupted, not halting your movement. “I don’t know. It’s not as if I am your wife or anything.” “Darling, please,” Nikolai pleaded, now grabbing your upper arms and keeping you in place, turning you to face him. “I love you, and only you. You know this.”

You didn’t respond to this, your eyes casting to the floor instead. You couldn’t see the change in Nikolai’s features upon your silence. You didn’t see how his eyebrows furrowed in heartbreak as his eyes reflected the same sadness you had felt this entire time. “You know that I love you, right?” He repeated, his voice now unsure.

The silence that followed was as terrifying to you as it had been to him. He hadn’t meant to make you feel this way. When he proposed, he didn’t think much of it, expecting you wouldn’t think much of it either. But the opposite finally appeared to be true, and now being directly faced with it, Nikolai cursed himself for not seeing it earlier.

“I'll paint you mornings of gold. I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now. We're choosing the path Between the stars.”

“Hey,” He tried, his hands gently falling from your arms as one of his fingers tapped your chin, causing you to redirect your gaze from the floor to his face. “You know I love you, right?”

Your lower lip trembled lightly as you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know anymore, Nikolai.” “Oh, darling,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you as he forced you into his embrace. And finally, after three days, you broke, your eyes breaking its dams as tears began to stream down your face, your shoulders shaking with your sobs.

“There is no one in the world I could ever love other than you,” Nikolai assured, his head resting atop yours as his fingers began to rub soothing patterns on your back. “Please, do not think you are anything less to me than everything.” “Why wouldn’t you ask me?” You sobbed, not looking up at him, instead keeping your head buried in his chest.

“I don’t know,” He answered truthfully. “I didn’t mean much by the proposal. I didn’t think too much of it as anything other than a paper.” He continued, placing a comforting kiss on top of your head. “And because of that, I didn’t think you would make much of it either.” “You were wrong.” You countered, your hands now grasping the back of his robe. “I know that now.” Then, he moved his head, looking down at you. “And I should have asked you before. I see that error.”

“I'll leave my love Between the stars.”

“If you had asked,” You started, your voice unsure. “And I would have said no, would you have still asked her?” A beat of silence echoed, before you felt him shake his head. “I wouldn’t have.”

You raised your head at this, your teary eyes forcing contact with his, seeking his face for any hint of deception. When you couldn’t find any, you sighed heavily. “I want to understand,” you muttered. “But part of me feels so betrayed.” “I know,” Nikolai whispered, one hand making its way to your face, wiping away stray tears. “And I do not blame you for this.”

“Alina is lovely,” you continued. “She doesn’t know we’re married. She doesn’t do this to harm me. Yet, part of me envies her so much. Every time I see her, I just want to punch her in the face.” That got a tiny chuckle out of him. “She doesn’t deserve that, Nikolai.” You scolded. “No, but it’s a little funny.”

“As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you. Every thrill is gone Wasn't too much fun at all.”

When his laughter died down, he looked at you in sincerity. “I can break it off,” He decided. “Easily. It wouldn’t hurt her feelings. In truth, I do not think she feels anything for me. She is lovesick over Mal.” “Nikolai,” You interrupted him. “As someone who wishes to end this war, I see that this would be a good solution.” He shook his head. “And as my wife?”

When you thought about it for some time, Nikolai filled the silence. “The brutal truth.” He clarified. “Don’t make me feel good about myself.” You shrugged at that, your features falling slightly. “I’d ask for both your hands. Not just one.”

With those words, Nikolai’s hands intertwined with yours, squeezing them affectionately. “Then, you shall have them.” A heavy feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, the ominous truth lurking over your shoulders, almost laughing at you menacingly. “The people need an end to all of this.” “There are other ways to solve this war. Other, peaceful ways.” Nikolai countered, pulling you back into his embrace.

“But I'll be there for you. As the world falls down. As the world falls down. Falling in love.”

When he didn’t feel you copy his hold, he continued talking. “Marriage was option one. There are a hundred others.” “You could have started with these.” You mumbled, wiping the final few tears off your face. “Well, this one was the easiest,” Nikolai explained. “But I think that keeping my one true wife is worth the struggle.”

The lump in your throat began to slowly vanish at those words, anxiety still there, although less severe. As if he sensed it, Nikolai broke his hold on you. “Come morning, I’ll talk to Alina. You have my word.” Your hand shot to your arm as you rubbed it, trying to distract yourself. “I think it’s just the looming threat of the darkling.”

Cocking his head from side to side, the prince agreed with you. “It is terrifying.” “What if we cannot win this?” You questioned, doubt heavy on your mind. You knew it was on Nikolai’s too, but he had always been better at hiding it. Royal training tends to do that to you. “For the first time in years, we have a chance,” he assured. “And if not, I’ll die protecting that which I love.” You raised your eyebrows at this, already knowing what was coming, but you gave him the chance to say it out loud: “That’s you.”

Finally, a small smile climbed onto your face. “Sap.” “You married me for it.”

“As the world falls down Falling in love. As the world falls down.”

The late hour had started to dawn on you, exhaustion slipping back into your features. You were too tired to think more of the war, and make the issue bigger than it was. You spoke with Nikolai, which hadn’t been on your list of things to immediately get to. Be that as it may, it brought enough relief, and you found yourself slightly grateful for him stalking the halls late at night.

“Promise to not propose to anyone ever again?” You asked, trying to leave the matter for what it was. “Not ever after I asked you?” Nikolai retorted in a joking manner. You didn’t laugh at this. “That was a joke.” He clarified.

“It wasn’t funny.” “I know,” He quickly corrected himself, wiping the smile off his face, sincerity shown once again. “That was too soon.” You nodded at him, but leaned into his side, offering him some form of assurance.

“Makes no sense at all. Makes no sense to fall. As the world falls down Falling in love.”

“Come back to bed, my love. I haven’t slept well in days.” He muttered, an arm wrapping around your figure as he held you against him. “Neither have I.” You confessed, which caused him to look at you in slight confusion. “Truly?” When you nodded at him, he nodded his head, seemingly lost in thought. “Well, you wouldn’t say. You still look absolutely breathtaking.” You couldn’t suppress the heat rising to your face at his words, your heart skipping a beat.

When he didn’t speak after that, you took it as your queue to fill it. “I’m sorry.” You voiced. Furrowing his eyebrows, Nikolai squeezed your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologise for,” His feet began to walk through the halls, dragging you with him as he made sure to match your pace. “You were completely in the right to question my decisions and feel hurt because of it. My mistake was thinking that my reason for actions would be interpreted the same for everyone.” He cleared his throat as he thought over his own actions of the past few weeks with regret. “Clearly, that is not the case, and I know that now.”

The second smile of the night climbed upon your face as you looked up at him. “Are you apologising to me now?” “Shh,” He shushed you quickly. “Don’t tell the others.” You shook your head, nudging his side slightly. A content grin spread on Nikolai’s face as he looked down at you. “I love you, darling.” He shared. “Will you say it back?”

Giving him one fake-hesitant look, you gave him a joking nod. “I love you too.” His free hand grasped yours, bringing it up to his lips as he placed a light kiss on top of it.

“Thank you.”

“As the world falls down. Falling in love.”

[peakyswritings]

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART V

Summary: As they get closer, Tommy and Nina start to realise that their time together is limited. However, an unexpected event makes the tables turn.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of war, mentions of mutilation, this chapter contains triggering themes, such as sexual assault and violence. Read at your own risk.

A/N: I hope this is worth the wait! Useful information: in the first part of this chapter Nina is 17. She’s depicted as naive, maybe a bit too much for a seventeen-year-old, but bear in mind that she grew up in an extremely conservative environment. Also, I wrote all the dialogues in English because it would’ve been too much of a mess to switch between the languages, so keep in mind that whilst the dialogues between Nina and Agnese could be in both languages since they’re bilingual, the ones between Nina and Stefano are technically in Italian. Last, some things from the previous chapters are really important for this one. I do not claim any ownership to the dialogues excerpts taken from the show. English is not my first language.

After this way too long note, I hope you enjoy this chapter☀️

PREVIOUS PART

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credit

Dividers credit

1915, five years earlier

“They say Italy might join the war soon.”

It was the first time Nina voiced her concerns. She always had the feeling that if she expressed what was troubling her out loud, it would inevitably, irrevocably become true. But she had been bottling up that fear of hers for weeks now, and it had been growing and growing, consuming her from the inside. The weight of the basket she was carrying was nothing compared to the weight of uncertainty, of not knowing what to expect.

“They say that at your school?” Agnese asked absentmindedly, looking in the windows of the small bakery they always used to stop by when they were children, because they knew the owner would give them freshly baked biscuits for free.

“They say that everywhere,” Nina murmured, kicking a stone with her foot.

Agnese had heard about that possibility, and it scared her as well, but she didn’t fully understand the extent of the seriousness of the situation. No one ever bothered to explain it to her, and every time she asked questions about it, her family would just brush it off. She shouldn’t trouble herself with such nonsense, they said. And although she could ask Nina, she never found the courage to do it, far too ashamed of her own ignorance. Her cousin knew lots of things, talked about serious matters, had opinions that contrasted with everything they had ever been taught, and most of the times Agnese had troubles following the things she said. But she said them with such conviction, such mastery that she couldn’t help but agree with her. And she suspected that the reason why no one ever listened to Nina was because they had troubles following her as well. There was something unsettling in her cleverness.

“I’m worried about my brothers,” Nina admitted. “They’re old enough to be enlisted.”

Agnese shifted her attention back on her cousin, sending her a sympathetic look. “Maybe we won’t enter the war. And even if we do, maybe they won’t have to go. Your father can find a way to-”

“They’re not cowards,” Nina interrupted her with resolution, shaking her head. “The Spinietta brothers are cowards. Pietro and Salvatore are not like them.”

“What do the Spiniettas have to do with it?”

“I heard my father say that if we join the war, Mr. Spinietta already knows who to talk to to make sure his kids are not enlisted. He’ll shake a few hands, make a few threats, and they will be safe and warm in their houses. He might even send them to America, they have relatives there.”

Truth was, Nina wished they’d be sent to America. She wanted them to be as far away as possible from her, from the village. They walked around as if they owned every street, every shop, every person; as if everything was owed to them, because they had money and power. But everybody knew where that money came from. And even though she was aware that her family wasn’t any different, that their own money was mostly blood money, she still believed that her brothers were better than them.

“They’re cowards. Cowards and bastards, that’s what they are,” she gritted her teeth.

“You can’t say things like that,” Agnese hissed with wide eyes, frantically looking around to make sure no one was there to hear her. “Lower your voice.”

“I’m just telling the truth. They’re bastards. Sick bastards. You’ve seen how they’ve dragged that poor girl in their car, last week.”

Nina watched as her cousin pressed her lips together, avoiding her gaze. The episode had left both of them with a bitter taste in their mouths, and a feeling of powerlessness that haunted them still. They didn’t know why they had done what they had done, what they would do to her, but somehow they knew it wouldn’t be anything good. Because despite the kind smiles they were wearing and the false gentleness with which they had guided her into the car, it was clear that they were forcing her. The two cousins heard some girls say that she wasn’t the first, and probably wouldn’t be the last, and that the reason why they targeted her was because she had no father nor brothers.

Everyday since that day, Nina cursed herself for not intervening. Would things have gone differently, if she had said something? Would she have been in trouble as well? What kind of trouble was that girl even in? She didn’t have the answers.

Now she carried a pocket knife with her. If they even tried to get close to her, or to another girl in her presence, she wouldn’t be afraid to use it.

“You still can’t say things like that.”

“It’s not like they can do anything,” Nina shrugged.

There was a delicate balance between the families, assured by mutual fear and by the possibility of a bloodbath that wouldn’t suit anyone. But even that wasn’t enough to guarantee peace, one wrong step was all it would take to disrupt that balance. It was like a bomb waiting to explode.

“I need to buy some thread for my mum,” Agnese changed the subject, stopping in front of a shop. “Wait for me here.”

As her cousin disappeared into the shop, Nina placed the heavy basket on the ground to clench and unclench her sore hand. She slightly rubbed the red marks which were appearing on her palm, wincing at the pulsating sensation. The rev of an engine came to her ears, and before her mind could register what was happening, a car stopped in front of her. Stefano Spinietta stuck his head out of the window and sent her a smile, showing a perfect set of white teeth. “You want a ride home?”

Nina frowned, trying to suppress the feeling of disgust that came over her at the mere sight of his face. “No.” She said firmly, the lump in her throat preventing her from saying anything else. She had always hated how nervous she was when he spoke to her, when he looked at her. He always looked at her as if he wanted something from her. What it was, she could not tell, but it made her feel incredibly uneasy. His handsome features and immaculate manners didn’t fool her.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” he taunted her, getting out of the car. “Let me help you with that.” Stefano reached his hand towards the basket, but before he could take it, Nina pushed it away with her foot. A glimmer of amusement flashed through his eyes, lighting up his face.

Her hand went to her pocket, and she clutched the small knife tightly, the weapon giving her a new found sense of security. She looked right into his eyes, and spoke enunciating each word carefully. “I said no.”

“I just wanna take you home,” Stefano insisted, his stupid smile still plastered on his face. “C’mon, get in the car.” He took ahold of her arm, slightly squeezing it as if he wanted to reassure her.

A wave of uncontrollable rage coursed through Nina, and in a matter of seconds she had him pushed against his car, her blade grazing his throat. Surprise spread across his features as he looked down at her.

“Touch me again,” she said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll cut your throat.”

Silence fell between them as they glared at each other in an unspoken competition, both of them waiting for the other to cave in. Nina forced herself to keep her burning gaze on him, while every muscle in her body urged her to run away. Instead, she didn’t move, head high, hand steady. She wouldn’t bend. She couldn’t bend. Stefano slowly held his hands up in surrender, the shadow of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Under her confused look, he slightly leaned forward, causing the blade to pierce his skin, and a trickle of blood seeped from the small wound, red, thick. It ran all the way down to Nina’s hand, and its slimy texture almost made her flinch. Stefano, on the other hand, had regained his composure, as if he was the one in control of the situation, as if he didn’t have a knife pointed at his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, staring at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes.

Nina hesitated for a moment, then, with a swift movement, she took a step back and placed the knife back in her pocket, suddenly aware that she had held her breath the whole time. Stefano sent her one last glance, before turning around and going back in his car without saying another word.

As he drove away, she glanced down at the crimson stain on her hand with wide eyes, her heart thumping in her chest. When Agnese walked out of the shop, unaware of what had just happened, she closed her shaking fingers in a fist, and hid her hand into her pocket.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” her cousin chuckled, looping her arm though hers. “Let’s go home.”

Present day

“I swear to God, I swear to God…she gave me sixpence. She sends me to the shop for margarine, eggs and bread. When I came back…”

“With a top hat and a coconut,” Nina shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips.

“And that was all the money we had for the whole fucking week,” Tommy stopped to light his cigarette, then he raised his eyebrows, a smirk growing on his face. “And me mum beat me with a fucking frying pan.”

“Why the hell did you buy a top hat and a coconut?”

“‘Cause I thought she deserved it. I thought we all did. And I could never understand,” he hit his hand on the table, a hint of some old anger creeping into his voice, “why people like us only had bread and fucking lard. And I wanted to be different. That’s what I wanted.” Silence fell between them as he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze getting lost in old memories.

Their late-night chats had become a habit now. The night after the first one, for some reason, Nina went downstairs to make herself a cup of tea, and, for the same unknown reason, Tommy went into the kitchen with a dry throat. Just like every night since then. They stayed up late, sharing thoughts, doubts and memories, whispering them into the night and letting it take them away. Over the past week, Nina had come to realise that there was way more than Tommy let on behind his stoic facade, and she found herself wishing to know more. As for Tommy, he liked hearing her talk. She had something to say, and she wasn’t afraid to say it. It was refreshing, and a nice change from the hordes of people who repeated somebody else’s words like parrots, without fully understanding their meaning.

“And you are different, aren’t you?”

The depth of Nina’s eyes became too much to bear. For the first time, Tommy suddenly felt exposed. It was as if she was reading right into him, as if she had him completely figured out, as if every thought, every fear, every unspoken word was no longer a secret. It scared him.

He cleared his throat, stomping out his cigarette. “I heard your brothers also fought in the war.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “They were at Caporetto.”

Pietro and Salvatore still bore the marks of that defeat, both physical and mental. Pietro, the older one, had almost lost an arm in combat, and even though two years had passed, sometimes it still hurt. But in exchange for the arm, the war took something else away from him. There seemed to be nothing left of his once caring nature, and his innate attention for details had turned into a urge to have everything under control. As for Salvatore, the war had enhanced the restlessness that had always distinguished him. He was angry, easily triggered, spiteful. And now he had a deep scar which crossed the left side of his face, making his expression appear even more grim. However, in Nina’s eyes, Pietro was still the boy who fought for her to keep on going to school, just like Salvatore was still the playful kid who took advantage of their size difference to sweep her off her feet and spin her around. But they were not those kids anymore. A line was drawn between Nina and her brothers, and that line became a breach, and that breach had continued to open up until an abyss yawned beneath their feet.

Nina took a sip from her cup of tea, sensing that it might be time to change the subject. The war was clearly a sore point for both of them, although for different reasons. “Agnese told me you like horses,” she sat up straight in her chair, her gaze lighting up with curiosity.

“Yes, I do like horses.”

“When I was a child I wanted to learn how to ride. I even asked my father to buy me a horse for my birthday,” she reminisced, a small laugh escaping her lips. “My mum threatened to leave for good if he ever dared to come home with a horse.”

“So you didn’t get the horse.”

“I didn’t get the horse.”

“You know, I’ve got horses, I could teach you how to ride one,” he proposed, the words escaping his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. Then he realised, and he paused for a moment. He wouldn’t get to teach her. A faint, bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I mean, when you come to Birmingham to visit your cousin.”

Nina couldn’t explain the strange effect his words had on her, the sharp stab of sadness that hit her right in her chest. She brushed off that feeling, telling herself it was just the thought of not seeing Agnese - her only friend and the only ally she had in that family - to cause it.

But Tommy recognised the stinging sensation that was rising up inside him, a sensation he had already felt before. A sensation he couldn’t admit, not even to himself.

“How are things with Tommy?” Nina casually asked her cousin, struggling to hang a bedsheet on the clothesline to dry in the shared backyard.

A sly smile flickered on Agnese’s face as she glanced at the black-haired girl, keeping on folding the dry clothes. “You call him Tommy now?”

Her question made Nina’s movements come to a stop. She shut her eyes for a moment, cursing herself for letting the man’s name slip out of her mouth. She hadn’t told anyone about how she and Tommy were on better terms, about the frequent conversations that had brought them to that point. She had been extra careful not to show the slightest hint of friendliness towards him in public, for she knew people would talk. She couldn’t risk Agnese getting the wrong idea. “Only when he isn’t around,” she murmured, starting to hang the laundry again.

That wasn’t too far away from the truth, though. Although Tommy did call her by her first name, she didn’t remember ever doing the same with him. She didn’t call him Mr Shelby anymore, either. She just didn’t address him. For some reason, calling him by his name seemed too personal. It felt like crossing a line that was not supposed to be crossed.

“I almost thought you were starting to approve of him,” Agnese joked, letting out a small giggle.

Nina forced a laugh, shaking her head, and a sense of guilt rose inside her. She told herself it was just an innocent, white lie; those secret conversations didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t even a lie, just an omission of truth. A justified omission of truth.

Then why did she feel so bad?

Agnese fiddled with the necklace Tommy had given her, pondering her words. “He doesn’t seem to be…taken with me,” she revealed, a glimpse of worry shining in her green irises. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a gentleman, and he’s been nothing but polite to me, but… I don’t think he likes me.”

“Agnese, are you joking?” Nina hung the last shirt, before turning towards her cousin. It pained her to see her like that. She was the most beautiful person she knew, inside and out, and she didn’t deserve anything less than being happy. “I’m sure he does. How couldn’t he?”

“What if he doesn’t love me?”

“Love will come with time,” Nina walked up to her to take her hands in hers with a reassuring smile. “Everything will turn out for the best. You have to believe that.”

She felt relieved as Agnese nodded, worry starting to fade from her expression. Truth be told, even Nina didn’t fully believe her own words. She couldn’t be sure that Tommy would grow to love her cousin, nor that they would have a happy marriage; she couldn’t be sure that the war that would follow with Sabini would end well for them. But she said what Agnese needed to hear, because she didn’t have the heart to to make her fears seem even more real.

“Thank you, Nina.” Agnese whispered, wrapping her arms around her. When Nina awkwardly returned the embrace, patting her on the back, her cousin couldn’t hold back a chuckle. It was no secret that Nina wasn’t big on physical affection, but for a few selected people - that she didn’t have the courage to push away - she brought herself to tolerate it. At least she tried.

“I need to help my mum with lunch,” the brown-haired girl said, breaking the hug to grab the basket full of dry clothes. “She’ll have my head if I don’t.”

“You’d better go, then.”

As Agnese walked back to her house, Nina finished hanging the laundry, humming a little song to herself. She tried to keep her mind busy with futile thoughts, like what Winston might be doing in that moment, what she would eat for lunch, which book she would start to read after finishing the one she was currently reading. She thought about anything and everything in order to keep her mind off Tommy, Agnese and their departure, off her father and what he had told her that day in his study, off the uncertainty about how her life would turn out. It was a nice day, and she didn’t want to plague herself with such worries. However, in the back of her mind, all of that was still present, poisoning even the nicest of thoughts.

When she turned around, the figure of a man leaning against the wall of the house made her flinch. Stefano Spinietta was standing there in silence, observing her, and she had to fight the urge to ask him how long he had been staring at her. “What are you doing here?” She frowned, collecting herself.

“Business meeting. Your father gave me permission to spend some time with you, while he talks with mine,” he explained, pushing himself away from the wall.

A scowl formed on Nina’s face, and a new wave of irritation ran through her, this time directed at her father. All that speech about him wanting her to make the decision for herself was, indeed, just speech. Words he had said to keep her nice and quiet as he indirectly pushed her down the path he had charted for her. “What makes you think I want to spend time with you?”

Stefano’s lips curled in his ever-present grin, as if he found great amusement in her reactions. But that was exactly the point, to some extent. It had become a game to him, some sort of dark, twisted game. The more she rejected him, the more stubborn he became. Something that had started years ago as a mere interest, had slowly taken a different turn. He wanted her, he had been wanting her since she had drawn a knife at his throat. She was carved under his skin just like the scar her blade had left on his neck. There was something about her. Maybe it was her defiance, her refusal to bend, to mould herself into what she should be. He could make her. He could smother the flames of her fierceness and turn her into a quiet pretty thing. “Why do you always have to be so hostile?” He asked her, squinting his eyes.

His question made Nina’s annoyance grow even more. As if he had no clue of how much he had pestered her all those years. Now he had the courage to act all innocent, to play the part of the nice, polite guy who was just courting a girl he liked. He might’ve fooled everyone with that act, but he had never fooled her. “You asked my father his blessing to marry me.” She snapped, taking some steps in his direction. “Did you really think he’d say yes?”

“He never said no.”

“I did.”

Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, once again refusing to be the first to cave in. But this time it didn’t take Nina any effort to keep her eyes on him. She wasn’t a naive seventeen-year-old anymore. Now she knew what it was that he wanted from her. And his gaze didn’t intimidate her anymore.

“Listen to me, Stefano, and listen to me carefully, because I’m not going to repeat myself,” she said in a low voice, coming even closer to him. “You disgust me. You and all your kind,” she spelled out, making sure to emphasise each word. “And I’d much rather jump in front of a train than marrying you.”

Stefano didn’t say anything, at first. He just clenched his jaw, and his hands balled into fists by his side. Then he broke into a half-smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, trying not to let his wounded ego show. “I’ve been nice to you, and yet you keep on insulting me.”

This time it was him who got closer, towering over Nina. His eyes darkened, and he looked at her with such contempt that for a moment she had the impression he might hit her. With a quick, sudden movement, he grasped her jaw, and before she had the time to react, he turned to push her against the wall. She looked up at him, trying not to show an ounce of fear as her heart increased its speed.

“My patience has limits. And you shouldn’t forget who you’re talking to,” Stefano gritted out through clenched teeth, digging his fingers in her cheeks. His whole body shook with anger, and the mask of politeness he always hid behind began to fall apart. “You’re playing with fire.”

The same uncontrollable rage that years ago gave Nina the courage to point a knife at him now gave her the strength to stomp on his foot, making him hiss and take a step back. Taking advantage of his distraction, she darted forward, but as soon as he tried to escape, Stefano forcefully slammed her against the wall again, holding her in place by the throat. A sharp sting of pain flashed through her spine at the impact with the cold surface, and a whimper escaped her lips as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Fury flared in Stefano’s dark eyes, but then something changed in his expression. His pupils dilated, and he seemed to lose any kind of control over his actions as his hand left her throat to slowly wander down her body.

An overwhelming sense of panic started to rise inside Nina. She wriggled, trying to free herself from his grasp. “Stop,” she raised her voice, but Stefano promptly covered her mouth with the other hand, pressing his body against hers. She squeezed her eyelids shut when his hand became more insistent, squeezing her small breast in a painful hold, then travelling down to her hipbone to keep her still with bruising force. His hot breath burned on her skin as he leaned over her, bringing his face closer to hers. Nina tried to turn her head in response, but the hand he still had on her mouth wouldn’t allow it. She emitted a muffled sound, bringing her hands to his chest to push him away, but he was too strong, and twice her size. All her desperate efforts to put some space between them were useless. He was a rabid animal, a wild beast devoid of any rational thinking as he ground against her, trying to slide his filthy hand under her skirt. Nina’s face scrunched in disgust, and her whole body stiffened under this touch. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around in her head, endless, confusing, as if she couldn’t exactly register what was happening.

Then he stopped. Much to Nina’s surprise, Stefano suddenly seemed to come to himself, and he took his hand off her mouth. But there wasn’t a hint of guilt, or regret, in his eyes. On the contrary, he looked almost satisfied. And then she realised. He had been in command of his actions the whole time. “What, you don’t talk anymore?” He asked provocatively.

Nina’s wide eyes rested on Stefano in shock. The lump in her throat kept on growing and growing, making it impossible for her to utter a single sentence. She swallowed, trying to regain some kind of control over her emotions, to force herself to speak, and when she did, she faked a confident tone. However, the trembling in her voice betrayed her fear. “Once my family hears about this, you’ll-”

“I didn’t do anything you didn’t want, love,” he interrupted her, furrowing his brows, his face assuming a perplexed expression.

“What…” she batted her eyelashes in confusion, her voice barely above a whisper. “No, I didn’t...” the words died in her throat as the awareness of his implications started to set in.

Stefano leaned in, bringing his hand to her cheek to caress it with fake tenderness, and a terrible smile made its way on his face. “Who do you think they’ll believe?”

Nina shook her head, a feeling of helplessness she had never felt before taking over her. She just wanted him to leave. She wanted him to take his hands off of her. She wanted to kick him, to scream at him, to dig her nails in his face deeply enough to make him bleed, and yet all she could do was look at him in silence.

But then someone must’ve heard her prayers, because Stefano was abruptly pulled away from her. It was as if some kind of supernatural gust of wind had ripped him away from her body, freeing her from the heavy weight that had her pressed against the stone surface. Except that it wasn’t some supernatural force. The person who had grabbed Stefano by the collar of his shirt was very much human.

“The fuck are you doing?” Tommy growled, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he had on the man. Stefano, not understanding a word he had said, just raised his hands, as if to show that he meant no harm.

Tommy had recognised the guy. He was the one they had met two weeks ago in the city, the one who had given him a bad feeling as soon as they had met. He couldn’t explain the pure rage he felt when he caught him holding Nina against a wall. Her scared, helpless expression was all it took for him to see red and launch at the Italian man. The thought of what could’ve happened if the meeting with the Ferrantes and the Spiniettas had finished just a bit too late made his skin crawl. Still holding him by the collar, Tommy raised his fist, driven by the sudden urge to break his nose, but before he could land the blow, Nina’s voice stopped him.

“Don’t!” She exclaimed, causing him to look in her direction. “He’s Spinietta’s son,” she frantically explained, getting a bit closer, but still keeping herself at safe distance.

Tommy shifted his eyes on the Italian man again, his fist still in the air, and pondered for a few seconds. Although Stefano couldn’t understand Nina’s words, he probably had a vague idea of what she had said, because the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he stared at Tommy steadily. Nina held her breath, her heart skipping a beat at the Italian’s implicit provocation. Tommy was really close to doing something that might put him in a dangerous situation, and it seemed like Stefano was doing everything in his power to encourage him. It was part of his fun, of his sick little game.

Feeling his hands itch even more, Tommy charged again, nostrils flaring, almost letting his impulse win. Fuck Spinietta, he thought to himself. But he was not in Small Heath. Begrudgingly, he lowered his hand and let the guy go with a violent push, making him stumble backwards. “Fuck off,” he snarled, pointing towards the path that led to the main garden to get his message across.

Nina sighed in relief, and she wasn’t sure whether it was because Tommy had made the right choice, or because that situation was over. Stefano took the time to straighten his shirt with unsettling composure. Without saying another word and keeping on watching them, he walked past them, his wicked eyes shining with amusement.

The adrenaline started to wear off, leaving Nina in a growing state of dizziness. The panic, the disgust, the anger. All of that became a single, indistinct mass aiming to engulf her and suffocate her. Her ears started to ring, and she had to fight the instinct to cover them and scream at the top of her lungs.

“Are you alright?” Tommy’s voice came to her ears, snapping her out of her trance.

“Yes.” She nodded, blinking a few times. Now aware of her surroundings, she felt as if she was re-entering her body after rising out of it, and the reality of what had happened was crashing on her. Bile raised in her throat, and she knew that if she had had something in her stomach, she would’ve thrown up. “Yes I’m alright.”

“Nina, you’re shaking,” Tommy noted with a hint of worry in his voice, his own heart still racing in his chest.

“No, no I’m fine,” she insisted, turning her face to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. She tightly crossed her arms over her chest, hoping that her hands would stop trembling. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” He shook his head, tentatively reaching out to hear. He was approaching her slowly, almost with apprehension, with his palm open, like one would do with a scared stray cat. “Come here.”

Nina hesitated for a while, torn between what she needed and what she was supposed to do, instinct and reason endlessly fighting. For once, she chose to act without thinking. Cautiously, she pulled Tommy into a hug, resting her head against his chest. Hit by an implacable wave of tenderness, he gently wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. It didn’t make sense, but having her safe in his arms brought him a sense of calmness and security, and his tense body began to relax.

The warmth of his body, his scent, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat, the unfamiliar softness he was showing her; the combination between all of that gave life to a feeling Nina had never felt before, and she couldn’t put a name to it. Between all of that, she was relieved by the awareness that, at least for that moment, she didn’t need to be strong. Tears began to spill out, and her facade fell for the first time.

When a suffocated sob escaped her lips, shaking her slender shoulders, Tommy’s heart painfully clenched in his chest. His hand found the back of her head, and he started to soothingly run his fingers through her soft dark hair. He wanted to say something, but he knew that there was nothing he could say that would make it better. So he held her tighter, as if he could shield her from harm with the sole strength of his arms.

“Breathe, love,” he whispered when he noticed that, in an attempt to hold back her sobs, she had tensed up a bit too much. “Breathe.”

Nina took a deep breath, focusing on Tommy’s deep voice and the delicate motion of his fingers through her hair.

“There you go,” he murmured encouragingly, feeling her calm down against him. She sniffled, snuggling even closer, and, once again, Tommy was overwhelmed by the need to protect her.

They couldn’t care less if someone saw them. In that moment, their embrace was the only thing that mattered.

Laying on her side with her knees drawn up, Nina stared at the shadows created by the small lamp on her bedside table. She could still feel the heaviness of Stefano’s hands on her, the burning of his hot breath on her skin, the suffocating smell of his cologne. She only wanted to get rid of those hands, that breath, that smell. She would gladly rip off her whole skin if it meant to forget.

She hated herself for allowing him to make her feel small, weak, for he had made it quite clear that was what he wanted. Because even though for a moment he had indulged in the temptation, he wouldn’t actually dare go through with it, not in her house. His purpose was to show her that he could overpower her at any time.

But then came feeling of being wrapped in Tommy’s arms, of being pressed against his strong frame, the feeling she had been desperately trying to give a name to. Until it occurred to her. Safe. She had felt safe.

A soft knock on the door of her bedroom pulled her out of the vortex of thoughts. She sat up on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. “Come in,” she said, but her voice was so feeble that she doubted the person on the other side had heard her. Still, the door opened, and in the dim, warm light, Tommy’s figure appeared on the doorstep.

He had never been in her room, but somehow it was exactly like he had imagined it. Ivory-coloured walls covered in a pattern of small flowers, dark wooden furniture, lace curtains. Handwritten sheets of paper scattered all over the desk, along with pens and pencils. It was bit messy and full of books, and it smelled like her. A mixture of lavender and honey.

When that night Tommy had come out of his room, the first thing he noticed was the unsettling silence. No rattle of pots coming from downstairs. But a half-light shone through Nina’s bedroom door, and he found himself desperately needing to know how she was. She had been avoiding everyone the whole day.

“I just wanted to check up on you,” his deep voice came out in a low sound, and it held some kind of uncertainty. He wasn’t sure that going to her had been a good idea. Maybe she didn’t want to see him, maybe knocking on her door was too much.

His doubts faded when the ghost of a smile formed on her face, and she motioned for him to come in. He carefully closed the door behind him, then went to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. A vice-like grip held his stomach when he noticed her puffy eyes and red cheeks. How many times had she cried?

“You’re paler than usual,” Nina teased him to ease the tension, but her voice didn’t hold the bantering tone he had grown used to hear. “You should get some sleep.”

Tommy half-smiled, shifting his gaze on the floor for a moment. But instead of spitting out a retort - contrary to Nina’s expectations - he just nodded. “You’re right,” he conceded.

A sigh escaped Nina’s lips, and she nervously fiddled with her own fingers. He was walking on eggshells, and she didn’t like it, not even a bit. “Please, stop treating me like that.”

“Like what?” He furrowed, looking at her again.

“Like I might break at any moment.”

Tommy said nothing. He could see why she didn’t want to be treated any differently, but she did look like she would break. Not once had she shown a single shred of vulnerability until that day, and it was disarming. Truth was, he didn’t know how to act.

“I’ll forget it ever happened,” she spoke again, this time with resolution, but she didn’t sound fully convinced of what she was saying. “And you should do the same. No one can know about it.”

“You should tell-”

“No,” she firmly interrupted him, Stefano’s veiled threat still echoing in her ears. “I can’t,” she continued, her voice becoming softer.

Tommy suddenly remembered what she told him a week earlier at the beach, and everything became clear. It was all it took to make his blood boil again. The room went quiet, but the silence was soon broken by a faint rustle of sheets, as Nina left her spot to sit closer to him. Honey and lavender filled his nostrils, and he had to restrain himself from inhaling deeply, eager to feel more. More than the light brushing of their arms, separated by the thin fabric of his undershirt. They were barely touching, and yet his skin burned. As hard as he tried to suffocate that feeling, to extinguish that fire, the flames kept on flaring, higher than before. He couldn’t fight it. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and that feather-like contact was enough to send sparks of electricity through his body. “Promise me,” she whispered, “you won’t tell anyone.”

Tommy turned to look at her, and the proximity allowed him to spot a small scratch on her cheek. Without thinking, he delicately ran his finger on it, and he was almost surprised by the feeling of her soft skin under his rough hand. Slowly, even hesitantly, his hand went to cup the side of her face, and he gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “I promise.”

Tommy’s hoarse voice, along with the warmth of his hand, sent shivers down Nina’s spine, and her pulse started to race. She couldn’t explain how the closeness of his strong body was making her feel, nor the effect his masculine scent had on her. Aftershave, cigarettes, and a hint of musk. And she couldn’t help but wonder: if she pressed further into him, if she let herself be held by him again, would it lift the weight off her chest? Would it take away the pain, the revulsion, the shame? Would his touch be enough to replace Stefano’s hands?

When he felt Nina unconsciously get closer, Tommy closed his eyes, drowning in her scent, and he could swear there was fire running through his veins. It was as if some unknown force was pulling him towards her, drawing him nearer, and when her soft lips brushed against his, his mind went blank. Every cell in his body was begging him to give in.

No. It wasn’t right.

Nina was vulnerable, too vulnerable, and probably unable to make any conscious decisions. He couldn’t take advantage of her like that. It took all his strength to move away and bring her in to press a kiss on her forehead instead. He lingered there for a few seconds, savouring the moment. When he let his hand fall from her face, the warmth left him, and it seemed to him that his fingers had sharply gotten cold.

Feeling her confused eyes following him, Tommy got up and walked to the door, ignoring the invisible string that was pulling him in the opposite direction. He couldn’t stay in that room any longer. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself.

“Goodnight, Nina.”

NEXT PART

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

[jinchuls]

𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈, 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 ₊˚✩

ᡣ𐭩 prince!sakusa x princess!reader

about 𝜗𝜚 the reception is underway and the hall fills with laughter, music and joy—you’re glad someone had found a way to enjoy your wedding

divider by @/cafekitsune

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉

Had you not been an unwilling attendee, you may have enjoyed the elegance of the night planned. Gorgeous music played throughout the vast ballroom. The sound of string instruments danced to your ears, blending beautifully with the piano taking control of the movements of everyone brave enough t0 take a partner to the centre of the room. A place you doubted you would visit yourself.

Even though it was a magnificent event, awaited by many, dedicated to you and your husband, you could only stare at it with hopes that time will be in your favour; that the end of the night would come for the night to simply be a blur by the morning. Your mind wanders to when you would finally be able to remove the light corset wrapped around you and climb into bed. But, you’re also hoping the night never ends. There’s part of you that wants to enjoy the reception, and there’s more of you that wants to avoid the first night you’ve expected to share with your husband – a constant worry forced into your mind by your mother.

You know neither of you are anticipating the evening, a night neither of you can truly avoid regardless of your will to be anywhere else. But you know what you need people to believe. When you Halle in the morning, you need your marriage to be among the successful of the royal family. You can’t risk any other result. The voice of your mother rings in your ears. ‘I’m giving you advice because I care, my child. It is now your turn to make me proud.”

Hidden within the music, you can near the clinking of flatware on plates as people stand by the grand displays of food, happily talking and laughing whilst you, under order of your mother, stay at the side of the room theoretically waiting for the moment Sakusa asks you to dance—an unlikely outcome.

Yet, you do as she expects. You stand. You wait. And your mother’s voice comes to mind again; this time the memory of her persistent comments uttered before you were able to even attend your own reception. “Do not even think of approaching the food table.” You had questioned why but quickly regretted so, her reasoning was as you had expected. There was no need to hear them allowed. “Why? You must look your best and the food the Queen has suggested,” she scowls at the thought, “it may be your favourite,” another unimpressed expression crosses her face, “but it is messy, my dear, I won’t allow it. And the drink! You can’t so much as hold a glass. You must be a perfect example tomorrow.”

The memory, now at the front of your mind, sends you spiralling into thoughts of now dreadful, how constricting, how disappointing this day has truly been; yay simply want it to end.

Though, the universe is not on your side as you watch your mother approach you with a smile painted on her face, so artificially proud. It’s horrendous to see. She’s quick to take you by the arm and pull you out of earshot of the overly curious nobles. You know her intention but knowledge does not retire your desire to be elsewhere.

“Are you prepared for this evening?" she questions, taking your hand and shining her bright smile your way. You try not to let her notice the frown that falls on your lips.

You know she’s not clueless on now you feel, on what this entire day had once meant to you. She knew how much you had once been dreaming of this day and exactly how distraught you had felt finding out just now little your husband seemed to care about you. She knew your concerns; witnessed your heartbreak and, yet, still believed the two of you were some sort of destiny.

She simply chose to ignore the royal tragedy unfolding.

“My dear, are you listening to me?” her tone changes as she realises you’re drifting from the conversation she is leading, and you quickly come back to reality- regardless of your emotions today, it is not worth an excuse for your mother to berate you.

You nod your head, urging her to continue except, this time, you’re listening. She adjusts the neckline of your dress as she speaks, another grimace crossing her for just a second. But that second is enough to make you feel small. “You must remember, you are now a member of the royal family. There is no longer any room for your embarrassing behaviour.” Her words, her voice. She has no care for how much they hurt you; you’re given no time to respond -to tell her now much you lowly despise her and the woman she has forced you to become. Had she looked at you for a moment, she would have seen the harshness in your expression. It’s clear she would have thought nothing of it.

“Mother—“ you signh, gently moving her hands away from your dress. You could – should – have stiffened your tone. A simple warning from the Princess to the duchess – as though that held any importance to the woman. She was still your mother after all.

“You’re a princess now, and a princess has a role to fill. You mustn’t disappoint him tonight, the sooner an heir is conceived the better, is it not?” she speaks as though her actions are not now toward a member of the royal family. As if she inhabited a role more important than her own.

“Mother!” You almost raise your voice, stopping at the last second as you stare at her with wide eyes. You’re amazed at her confidence in saying such a thing in the middle of the ballroom; you’re certain there’s no one within earshot but you fear someone will hear your improper conversation–ruining the reputation your mother places on such a high pedestal.

“There are certain duties a woman has to complete,” she continues, ignoring your worried expression and attempts to stop her, “and you’re not truly a wife until the marriage has been consummat–”

“I understand, mother.” You interrupt her and she finally stops, although she looks less than pleased at the manner in which you’ve ended the conversation. You ignore her once more; forcing all thoughts of sharing the night with Sakusa from your mind. Excusing yourself from her silence, you make your way back to the lively event mere feet away from you and silently pray you will hear no move of a princess' ‘expectations' for as long as the music fills the hall.

You keep your head high as you search for familiarity; you don’t want to seem lonely at your own wedding and you can hear your mother’s voice in the back of your mind reminding you of the appearance you’ve been trained to exhibit. How you hate the sound of that voice.

The familiarity comes in forms you don’t wish to entertain: family members that likely share the same thoughts as your mother (and lack her same decency), the young women your age who, shockingly, don’t understand the lack of love in your marriage- they wish to hear endless stories of how romantic the crown prince could be. How naïve.

There’s Komori—and he’s certainly not the person you shall ever seek in times of comfort. Sakura himself stands among a small group of men you do not recognise but your eyes glide past him effortlessly.

You’re certain he’s not so much as looked at you since your vows had been exchanged. Why should you offer him such courtesy?

The one person you wish to see is elsewhere, likely sent away by your mother to perform a job that is not her responsibility. Kiyoko’s kind eyes, her soft smile, that would be your only peace for the night, that still seemed years away from an end.

There is not a single person attending that is there for you. The realisation swells in your mind until you feel as though you are suffocating. It’s unbearable. You had been expecting this very outcome but it does not soothe the excruciating ache of your chest.

Hastily, you leave the ballroom desperately searching for somewhere—anywhere—that gives you a chance to breathe. Your escape goes unnoticed by everyone except the guards at the door. You suppose your marriage does come with some perks—they were not to question the action of the princess they now serve.

There’s a brief moment you can relax as the doors close behind you. You know you’re safe, monitored closely by the royal guards that won’t let anyone besides your people approach, with the exception of those trusted by Sakusa himself. Though any of him men are unlikely to care about the well-being of his wife. You could finally be alone.

Eventually, you find yourself on one of the many balconies of the palace, breathing in the fresh air and taking in the view of the verse garden as The Sun was beginning to set. It’s as beautiful as you remember.The solitude it brings, the peace, the comfort, the sanctuary_ it’s a small bliss that makes you believe living in the palace-with sukusa – won’t be impossible.

Compared to the warmth of the ballroom, the chill air forces goosebumps to rise on your skin but you don’t mind the icy wind, it’s a pleasurable contrast to the hell that has been your day. The few minutes you had alone, in silence, shivering are the happiest you’ve been all day. If only for a moment, everything feels infinitely better.

The quiet hum of the music reaches your ears; a reminder that you one of no true importance in the solely political day. But, it no longer bothers you; you’ve accepted the rest of your life will be spent in your husband's shadow. You are a princess, first and foremost.

You are yourself second.

Your peace is disrupted by the sound of heels on the corridor floors and a gentle sign escapes you, expecting your mother to burst through the balcony doors and drag you back to your burden.

“I’ve been looking for you, My Lady.” You’re pleasantly surprised by the familiar voice, twisting on your heels as she makes her presence known. The door closes behind her with a gentle click and you’re no longer alone—you’re company is more than welcome this time, especially as Kiyoko stands with a soft smile on her face and a small plate of palace delicacies she’d more than likely had to sneak away from your mother.

Your eyes widen and you take it from her gleefully. Of course, of all people to notice, Kiyoko was the only one that would do something that could anger your mother—she’d risk the consequences if only to see you content.

Kiyoko had been assigned to you when you turned 16; close in age and the only woman considered even remotely worthy to be the lady-in-waiting to the future queen, according to your mother, she had adopted quickly to her role. Taking the additional, and much needed, position of older sister and, eventually, the stance of sole ally in those pitiful years. She had helped you through tough days and had listened to every complaint you had about any minor detail. She never once cared what upset you, she only cared about you.

She sighs beside you, in a similar manner to how you had when you first escaped from the bustling ballroom. And, suddenly, you’re not the princess anymore; you’re just a woman with her friend. You’re not a person dreading your married life, you’re you. You’re just you.

“Your mother—“

“Please.” You interrupt, sending her a quick glance, you know she wants to ask what you were pulled aside for: a conversation you wanted to forget. “Not now; not here.” Kiyoko nods in return, a comfortable silence enveloping the two of you as you finish the food she managed to sneak away for you.

That’s how you stay as you both stare over the garden: there’s nothing to say. She had already heard your fear for your wedding day; she had witnessed you’re waterfall of tears the night before as you voiced every concern and fear, letting out all the emotions you had been trying to ignore for years. She had seen you at your worst before, what was supposed to be, the happiest night of your life. There was nothing she could ask that would make you feel better.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” You turn to the entrance of the balcony, the approach of another person going unnoticed by the both of you; straightening your posture your posture in an instant, the fear of your mother catching you in any ‘unladylike’ position running through your veins. Its only when you realise it’s Komori that you allow yourself to relax. “My apologies, I didn’t realise you had company, My Lady.” He bows his head to both you and Kiyoko. You greet him with the best smile you can muster: though you're not entirely happy to see him either–Sakusa’s silence broke your heart but Komori’s helped stamp on the pieces helping you learn losing a friend was just as painful.

He reaches a hand out towards you, offering you a glass of champagne he’s graciously brought with him, unaware of Kiyoko’s presence, he was ill-prepared for company yet, he hands her the second glass initially intended for himself.

“You look beautiful, Your Highness.” He’s the only person, besides Kiyoko, to say those words to you; to remember that this was your day and make it seem as such even if he knows, more than most, the reality of your relationship.

These a brief moment where you do feel beautiful, his soft voice unlocks more memories of the three of you as children, the nights in which Komori would listen to your endless rambling of your excitement for this very night—the plans you had for every detail of the decoration and dress, the exact opposite of what you’d endured. But those few words, his grin that was painted in your memory, childish, familiar and likely one of few things not destroyed by the horrors of war.

But that moment is fleeting; in seconds those memories are tightly locked up again as he speaks: he’s not there for you. “I wish I could come with better news, but I believe your mother has noticed your escape.”

He’s simply on an errand.

Your head drops as you sigh, a sound that has come from you today more than any day of your life. Turning to Kiyoko, you send her a disappointed smile.

“I would gladly escort you both back, My Ladies, if you allow it.” He steps forward, offering his arm to you.

You don’t move.

The thought of your mother seeing you walk arm in arm with your husband’s cousin is daunting: you know she’ll have strong words to say against it. As though he can hear the string of thoughts; you know he can see the conflicted expression on your face but he certainly wasn’t expecting it.

He clears his throat, embarrassment obvious as he lowers his arm. Instead, he opens the door again and steps aside, silence falling between the three of you as you make your way towards the music again, an uncomfortable atmosphere worsening with every step.

Once you arrive, Kiyoko steps aside as she’s beckoned away and you’re left with Komori. He, once again, clears his throat gently—a nervous habit he’d picked up in the years he’d been absent—-and hold out his hand again.

It feels less forced this time as the music plays loudly around you and couples still fill the hall laughing hand in hand as they spin.

“You should enjoy your day, the same as everyone else. I’d be honoured if you were to allow me a dance.” That grin, that voice, that kind man. You falter again and wonder how the friend you’d cherished so strongly had left you in darkness for years yet still acts as though you are the 13 year old girl begging for him to help her practice the endlessly complicated palace dinner etiquette.

But people are watching, he is waiting. “I would be—“

“Komori, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of a dance with my wife yet.” Anyone would have believed you had seen a ghost, the shock on your face impossible to hide as you twist, turning to face Sakusa. He glanced between you and Komori before he holds his hand out to you. “If she’ll allow it.”

She will not. You want to scream. She would not have allowed any of this.

Forcing a smile at the man you’ve married, you take his hand and allow him to lead you to the middle of the ballroom floor now even more painfully aware of the eyes glued to you.

Everyone stops what they’re doing; those dancing step to the side and the music restarts, playing the song you’ve heard hundreds of times in your life.

It begins; Sakusa crosses an arm across his torso as he bows at you. He lifts his head first, eyes meeting yours as he straightens his back. You falter for a millisecond under his gaze before you take hold of the your dress, curtsying elegantly in return before the dance truly begins.

Your hands interlace and he pulls you close, his free hand slides to your back, while you delicately place yours on his shoulder. He pulls you as close as he can resting his head against yours as he takes lead of your movement.

“Must you look so uncomfortable?” He whispers into you ear, loosening his grip on you to allow some distance between you again.

“There is only so much I can hide, Sakusa.” Your voice is more venomous than you had intended yet you feel no shame—the first words you’d exchanged since your vows were not to be pleasant.

“Today, of all days, you must, My Dear.” He fights the want to frown himself as you meet his eyes again.

“This may mean nothing to you,” you grin, sarcasm leaking from your expression that doesn’t go unmissed by your husband—it’s certain to fool those watching. The beautiful first dance of their future leaders, lost in each other; in their love that’s bloomed since their young friendship. “you may be content with a marriage of convenience. But I once wished I’d be married to a man that cared enough to tell me he was alive.”

His face does fall at the words, his frown lasting only a second before he can think of a rebuttal. “I was at war; leading an army. I spent my days fighting and my nights fearing my men would be ambushed; there was not time—”

“There was time for others, was there not?” He blankly stares, effortlessly moving to the music, leading your through the dance you could perform in your sleep. “We are no longer children, Sakusa. You’ve certainly made it clear how foolish I was when we were.”

“That’s not what I—“ He stammers in his defeat, making no effort to refute your claims as your hand comes away from his shoulder. He stylishly spins you, catching you by the waist with ease.

“Four years of silence. I didn’t know if you would even return until you,” Embarrassment fills you as your voice shakes—this is not the place to admit this but there may be no other chance—“until your letter of ten words.”

Your voice is quiet, you’re distracted by the way his hand is placed on your lower back, your clothing hides the feeling of his hands on you, but you feel the pressure as he pulls you close again.

“The war was won;” he defends “I was not aware the wedding would be the day after my return until I received a letter no more than a week ago, I sent word to you to prepare you.”

He leads you further through the dance, dipping your with grace, bringing a memory to the front of your mind.

You remember when you were young and learning this dance in anticipation for this moment; you remember the first time you practiced this very movement; the day he dropped you onto the floor, much to the shock of the instructor but to the entertainment of the two of you. Komori had heard the story later that day: teasing Sakusa alongside you until the novelty wore off.

Sakusa lifts you, bringing you back to an upright position, although, neither of you are prepared for the lack of distance between you. It’s more shocking for you at the sight of his much softer expression mere inches from you: he’s looking at you like a man truly happy to be wed—such delusion.

The music stops, and your curtesy once more; you interaction ends as Sakusa takes your hand, kissing it softly. When he raises his head, his soft demeanour is once again replaced by the unimpressed man you’ve quickly come accustomed to. You weren’t convinced you eyes weren’t playing a cruel trick on you.

He keeps hold of your hand as he guides you to the sidelines again and you try to ignore the beaming smiles of the woman wanting so desperately to be in your position.

Everyone’s in awe of your performance, unaware of the conversation unfolding between you: one that’s worsened your already sour mood. And everything continues as it was with more people swarming to the floor as music begins again, and conversations are in uproar as everyone falls deeper into drunkenness as time progresses.

And you’re not comfortable until you’re sat in front of a vanity mirror again, in an unfamiliar room that you’ll be leaving once you are prepared. You’re thankful Kiyoko was the only one beside you, brushing through your hair and untying the corset that’s crushed you throughout the day.

“My Lady,” Kiyoko whispered, “You mustn’t do anything you do not want to. No matter what your mother wants.” You meet her eyes in the mirror again, offering her a sincere smile.

“I know. I simply need her to believe. Neither of us want this, or an heir right now.” She nods, obviously unconvinced but she doesn’t argue; she doesn’t want to make you feel any worse than you had been.

“I worry—“

“I know.” You take hold of her hand that’s rested on your shoulder. “I appreciate it all; all you’ve done for me today.”

You’re soon wrapped in a shawl, hiding your nightdress as you’re led by a maid to your new bedchambers within the palace.

The door is opened for you and is closed the second you step inside; you’re met with the back of Sakusa’s head as he focuses on the paper he has displayed on his desk, the light of his candle beside him.

You clear your throat, gaining his attention. He turns to you and, he too, has ridden himself of his wedding attire and. instead, donned a much thinner sleeping set. And your briefly distracted by the low cut of his shirt, revealing his toned chest to you.

“I hope you’re not expecting anything.” He sighs, glancing over your appearance, his lingering gaze unnoticed by you. Instead, you frown, and resist the desire to argue the same of him.

“I expect nothing. My mother, however, is under the impression we are eager.” You drop the shawl at a chair in the centre of the room, ignoring the way he did briefly stare once more stopping as he realised and turning back to his papers—he hopes that too was missed along with the gentle blush that paints his cheeks.

“Your mother is—“ His voice gives away nothing.

“Be careful of your words, Your Highness,” you warn as you climb into bed, “she is now your mother too.

Sakusa stops, glancing to you just once more before he lets out a sigh of his own. “Your lady-in-waiting will arrive tomorrow.” He informs you after a few moments of silence.

“I have Kiyoko.” You respond instantaneously, somewhat fearing he’ll replace the closest friend you have with a stranger.

“The future queen requires more than a single lady-in-waiting; she’ll be here tomorrow.” You turn in bed, leaving your back to him and refuse to respond: nothing you say would change his mind.

You close your eyes and bask in the silence of the room, after the day of roaring excitement from almost everyone but yourself, you’re glad to finally have a moment with your own thoughts. You’re uncertain of how much time has passed; but soon enough you feel the bed dip beside you and the warmth of a body beside you. It’s that very warmth that lulls you to sleep.

You wake the next morning to exactly what you expect: the spot in the bed beside you empty and cold.

[marvelita85]

The king was death and queen Rhaenyra asended the throne, obviously the greens meaning Alicent and Otto thought the only reason they weren't dead by her hand was you, her daughter, being bethroded to Alicent son prince Aemond, bedrothal the late king Viserys claimed for the union of both families

You were turning 7 and 10 and as your nameday aproched your wedding with your uncle also did

You were close growing up, so close you did everything together, you even took him to fly on your own dragon when he havent claimed Vaghar yet, you both loved eachother but then Luke took his eye in the Drifmark incident and everything changed, letters stoped from his part altogether and after a year sending them you stoped too, you cried in your mother's arms long nights not understanding why Aemond stoped being your friend, Rhaenyra was hurtting looking at you in so much pain, she sent a letter to the king and Viserys decided to bethroded them, because he believed Aemond still felt love for you but you werent so sure anymore, his eye was so cold, and full of resentment towars your brothers and you

The night before the wedding there was a dinner only the family was present, Rhaenyra and Daemon ,Alicent was invited but not the former hand, Rhaenyra saw the looks between her brother and her daughter, all the nights you cried because of him and still the look of his eye looking at you always was softer than for the rest of Rhaenyra's children

You got out to the private gardens and close your eyes tried to breath in and out calming your nervs to tried to struck Aegon with your fork over dinner, the thought only made you smile

- to this hour tomorrow we are going to be married...-the voice made you started a little but you look who was talking and smile a little

- you are going to be mine... and I yours... why are you marrying me? Why did you say yes to our engagment

- what do you mean?

- you never wrote me back... after Driftmark you not only hated my brothers but also me

- I dont hate you... I woulnt be able to marry you if i did

- then why you never wrote me back?....

- what?

- i wrote you for a whole year before I realised you hated me and blame me for what happened to you, so I stoped sending them but I couldn't stop writing to you...

- I never recived any letter...

- I'm sure your grandfather and mother were very intrested in you not to get them

- I thought you abandoned me...

- you were my best friend Aemond... I never have wanted to walk out of your life... will be always like this then.... from now on we will be strangers doom to a loveless marriage

- it wouldnt be loveless... - yours eyes looked at him softening conciderably - despite what you might believe... I...

- Aem.... please...

- I still love you - you hold his hand creating an ancor for yourself, you needed those words coming from him - Im so sorry about the letters....

- I still have the ones I didnt send... it's silly

- no is not... I would like to read some if you let me - you couldnt help to hug him presing your bodies together, Aemond's arms went around you hugging as tight and close his eye presing his cheek into your blonde locks, there, only the godswood tree as their witness Aemond swore to protect you until his last breath and never let anyone else between them

-

[wolfs-archive]

"So what? Does that change my love towards you?" Part 1

Masterlist || Part 2 || Part 3

Summary: A casual day to the coffee shop makes Hyunjin fall in love with barista Y/N who is also a student but with a different major at the same college, hiding his identity he catches up casually and they fall in love initially. What happens when Y/N finds the true identity about Hyunjin. Read more to know what happens.

Pairing: Student!Hyujin X BaristaFemaleStudent!Y/N

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, mentions of marriage, drunk confessions.

Note: The Hyunjin or the other members mentioned here are no where related to the idol Stray Kids and are just a fictional character. Minors DNI please!!!

"Hyun, how about we go to have some americano in the nearby cafe?" asked Felix. "Yep, let's go!!!! Han wanna tag along ?" asked Hyunjin. " Yep" Han replied.

"Welcome to Stay Cafe" said a sweet voice. "How may I help you sir?" asked the same sweet voice. Hyunjin whose eyes was fixated on the phone, " 3 large iced americanos please" he said. She repeated his order and handed the bill over to him. Hyunjin took away the bill and went with his friends to grab a seat. A few minutes later, "Order Number 143, your 3 large iced americanos ready to go" as she said, Hyunjin walked to collect his order; the first time he saw her, he felt something gravitated him towards her,like missing pieces in a puzzle or maybe a soulmate connection? Though Hyunjin came from an affluent family, he never played with the heart of other girls and had his own principles. He had never got interested in any girl either. The moment he saw her, "It would be nice if I marry her" he though. "Mr. Sexy dynamite Hwang? Why are you blocking the way?" asked Jisung snapping him from his thoughts. Seeing him all flustered and mumbling to himself the same words again, Han new what was going on in Hyune's mind. "Excuse me, what's wrong with you? Why are you looking as if you are possessed?" Felix asked. "I, I am going to marry her.... I don't know what her name is or who she is. But, she is going to be Mrs. Hwang" he said. The moment those words came out of his mouth, Han and Felix knew the real intentions. Hyunjin never liked the marriage talks, but something coming out from his mouth made the sunshine twins realise that he was not toying and he was serious. "Excuse me, may I know who that barista is?" asked Hyun to a barista who was cleaning the next table pointing towards the owner of the sweet voice girl. "She is Y/N, Y/L/N" replied the girl. She also added, "Y/N is a part timer and she is studying Computer Science in SKZ University". He thanked her and after she left, "Woah, I didn't know our college had such a beautiful girl. Computer major, then Lee Know and I.N must know her" he said.

Chan, Lee Know, Hyunjin, Changbin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, I.N were close friends since school, and got into the same university with different majors, but shared a house together. Though Hyunjin's parents owned the universities and some other too, he was never the type to show it off. It was just the group who knew about him, the rest of the college treated him as a normal person. Lee Know and I.N majored in Computer Science, Hyunjin and Felix in Designing, Chan, Changbin in Production, Seungmin and Han in Music.

Y/N, Y/L/N was a beautiful girl with boba eyes which always sparkled when she spoke. A friendly girl, talented one, helpful in nature, had a good attitude, also a good student. To be precise, she was just God's favorite child. She had caring parents, a doting sister. But life isn't life when everything goes smoot isn't it? Y/N's sister Yun Hee died 3 years ago. The reason for the tragedy, she loved Ha-joon, the only son of JYP Buildings, due to the difference in status, Ha-joon's family did not approve of their relationship. Rather than living apart after fighting for over 4 years, the duo decided to commit suicide. From then onwards, Y/N hated affluent people. She took a vow never to step into their boundaries at any cost.

"Lee Know, I.N where are you two?" shouted Hyunjin in excitement as he entered the hall of their dorm. "What is it?" asked Lee Know. "The thing is... there is this girl in your department right Y/N, by any chance do you talk with her? he asked. "When you yelled my name, I definitely knew nothing good would come out of it" he said. In addition to that, "Yea, Y/N is in my class, we do talk sometimes. She helps me a lot. A nice girl" he said. "You don't like her right?" a curious Hyun asked. "What do you mean like, I like her, everyone in our class likes her, even our I.N liked her" he said. "No.. Not like that, as in you don't have any feelings for her right?" he asked. "Ai... no way, she isn't my type." he said. Sensing these words come out, he further warned him, "Hyun, do you know what will happen if your parents come to know about it? " he asked. "Dude, I get that my parents are strict, but if it is something I really want, they wouldn't mind it" he retorted." If that's your choice, then we are no one to stop you. Hope you find happiness with her. She is really a nice girl." said Lee Know. "But from what I heard from one of her friends is that she doesn't like affluent people because...." and I.N said the whole story. "I'll take care of it" Hyun responded.

The next day, Lee Know, Hyunjin, and Chan went to the same cafe. Hyun had asked Lee Know to introduce her. When Lee Know went to order drinks, she got them ready and served it herself, just because she knew him. He then introduced the two naming their departments and as Y/N leaned forward to shake hands, "Y/L/N, I love you, would you mind being my girlfriend ?" Hyunjin had asked, leaving Y/N flabbergasted. "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested" she said. "Woah, I knew Hyunjin was upto something, but I didn't expect something like this" Chan mumbled to Minho. "Why?" he asked her. An amazed Y/N said, "This is the first time we ever meet, I don't know anything about you. " she said. "Trust me, let's go on 3 dates, and by the 3rd date, if you still don't change your mind, then I promise, I'll never ever disturb you" he said. Y/N hesitated, but deep inside, the moment she met Hyunjin the first time, she felt butterflies. How could such a beautiful man exist she thought to herself. She made it a point to remind herself that he was just a customer and not to fall for him. Today when she saw him again she felt really happy. She didn't know the reason for her happiness. "Just believe me, you might miss wonderful days, if you don't accept it. I'm sure, I'll sweep you off your feet" he stated. "Okay, but just 3 dates, and you need to comply with my decision" she replied. "Deal" he challenged her.

"Y/L/N, are you serious? Did you really accept the 3 date challenge from the Design department Hyunijn? Wow, seems like fate. Just yesterday you told he was handsome and today you are telling me he asked you on a date. Sorry dates" remarked Lily, Y/N's dormmate, who has been Y/N's friend since elementary school. "He said, he'll sweep me off my feet, didn't he? Let me see what he is up to" she said sipping her beer.

The next day, Hyunjin came to Y/N's class. "Sexy dynamite Hwang, what are you doing in my department?" Lee Know asked with the hereditary Lee smirk on his face. "He must have come to see Y/N" said I.N. Hyunjin waited till Y/N's arrival, as soon as she entered, he went towards her, "Our first date is on Sunday, at 10:00 AM, wear comfortable cloths, I'll pick you up from your dorm" he said. Before Y/N could reply anything, he winked at her and left the class before waving to Lee Know and I.N.

Saturday evenings were usually for girls night, but Sunday being special for her, she didn't take the chance of partying. It would be a sin to lie if she said she was not excited for the date. Y/N tossed and turned the whole night and in no time she was sound asleep. Sunday arrived, she got ready, all dolled up with Lily helping her with her makeup. When she went downstairs, she couldn't believe herself; Hyunjin with his hair loose, and black shade wearing a white t shirt topped with a denim overcoat, ran his fingers through his hair looking like a sculpture. As they proceeded on their way to their date, Hyunjin spoke "Y/N iee I don't mind getting rejected by you, but trust me I want you to be yourself, I like you for who you are, and will love you no matter what. After all you are my first love." he said. A curious Y/N asked, "First love?". "Yep, I have never laid my eyes on any other girl. The moment I saw you I saw an instant spark. Maybe soulmate connection, that's why I asked about you to Lee know and I.N " he said. As they conversed, they reached their destination, the amusement park.

"Which ride do you wanna go first" Hyunjin asked Y/N. "Anything of your choice, but before this I want to make one thing clear. I will equally pay for everything. I don't like one person spending it. Deal?" she asked. "Y/N, I'm no man if I don't pay for you. Which man lets his date pay for herself?" he retorted. "Please Hyunjin" she pleaded with doe eyes. Too smitten by love, he accepted her request. The couple had fun riding the ferris wheel, the roller coaster and the bumper car. Hyunjin who wanted Y/N to feel close to him asked his mate's advice the previous day. "Hyun, rather than any nice ride, trust me; every girls would like the haunted house." said Changbin "When she gets afraid, you can tell her it is nothing and she would feel safe about the thought" he further added. Trusting him, he asked her if they wanted to go to the haunted house. Hyunjin had initially planned that Y/N would get scared and he could get close to her to pamper her. But the moment he stepped in, the complete opposite happened. The entire course of their journey through their haunted house, Hyun yelled like there was no tomorrow and clang on to Y/N who really had a hard time dealing with him. Y/N really felt butterflies inside her stomach the moment he clang on to her. Though he did not realise the effect he created on her. He had shouted the entire time that others around started looking at their direction. After the chaos at the haunted house, the duo had their lunch and proceeded to go home. Something in the corner of the heart made Y/N fall for him unknowingly to her. After dropping her in front of her apartment, before she could go inside he "Y/N than you for trusting me and coming out with me today. I'm not glossing over, but this has to be definitely one of the best days of my life" he said. Covering the blushing creeping up over her cheeks, Y/N smile and thanked him again, for she too spent a happy day with him.

From then onwards, Hyun rather than attending his design courses was found to be seen tagging along with Lee Know and I.N only just to watch Y/N. According to him, it was a face he would never get tired of watching. Also during the part time jobs of Y/N, Hyunjin made it a point to meet her everyday in the name of grabbing a drink just to refresh himself.

A few days later, the couple went on to their second date which was a beach, the duo enjoyed their time with the waves and decided to go to a park to spend the afternoon. Slowly, Y/N realised she was falling even deeper for the guy who confessed his feelings to her. A part of her wanted to enjoy the dates another part of her felt sad at the thought of getting apart after the event. It was like Hyunjin fell first, but Y/N fell harder. As days progressed, Y/N's thoughts were completely filled with Hyun. The number of text messages, calls and the meetings at the colleges increased day by day.

The final date was a dinner date, when Hyunjin pleaded he would want to pay completely for the so called final date. Y/N accepted. Hyunjin had told Y/N to dress up nice since he had other plans. Y/N who usually wore clothes which usually covered a lot of herself, today decided to go by knee length sleeveless black dress, Hyunjin at the sigh of Y/N was completely mesmerised and left speechless. The entire drive had Hyunjin focussing on Y/N rather than the road. After the dinner, Hyunjin proceeded to take her to her dorm. When Hyunjin was supposed to turn left instead of right, Y/N questioned him. "Y/N our date is not over yet. I have a little surprise for you" he said. As they drove towards a river, on the count of 5 fireworks filled the sky which was scenic. Y/N watched the sky with love and Hyunjin watched Y/N with love. The fireworks were progressing, he went to the car. When he came back, Y/N was still busily watching the beauty, he then suddenly went on one knee, "Y/L/N, never have I loved anyone like you, and never will I ever. You have been flooding my thoughts to the extent that I smile like an idiot even at the times of doing some serious work. I really love you, and wish to spend the rest of my life with you" he confessed. A teary eyed Y/N who planned on accepting his love during her 2nd date, hugged him and leaned forward to kiss him. Hyunjin who didn't expect that was confused but let it in after realising what had happened. He then drove her to her dorm, before letting her out," Thanks Y/N, I'll make sure you will never regret this decision in your life" he said. She again hugged him, "Thanks for showering so much love Hyunjin, I really don't know if I deserve those. But honestly as a man of your words, you did sweep me off your feet" she said.

Y'all, this is not the end. It definitely has a Part 2. I really didn't want to make the story too long, so I decided to make it in parts. Thankyou for all your support. When I initially posted a poll, I really didn't have any idea as to how to take the story further. But your guys' polls made me do it. Please feel free to correct if any errors in here and it would really be grateful to hear your comments about my story.

[kamisatomay018]

My Saviour: Part 4

Warnings: mention of emotionally abusive parents, angst with comfort, fluff

Time to see protective Ayato! Finally lol. This part will be very lengthy!

It had been 2 months since the news of Kamisato Ayato courting Hiragi Y/N spread all across Inazuma. Everyone was beyond excited, and the excitement of their courtship hadn’t died down even now. After everything that occurred in Inazuma, a wedding of this magnitude was welcomed with open arms. These 2 months were perhaps the happiest days of your entire life. Ayato treated you like a princess, he observed every little thing about you, remembered your likes and dislikes and showered you with presents. He would come to visit you often in Ritou, for your parents didn’t allow you to leave the island. No matter, as long as he was with you, no one else in Teyvat was on your mind. Your bond had grown stronger, and you knew you were falling for him. He could make you smile so effortlessly, giving you cheeky compliments, trying out new and weird Dango milk flavours together and playing chess had become core memories with you. He came to visit you almost every day for the first month, but then his work kept him busy, due to which he couldn’t come to see you that often.

That does not mean he forgot about you though. No, you were always on his mind, invading his thoughts, taking over his dreams and his heart. He would send hand written letters and gifts to you in Ritou through the hands of his most trusted housekeeper, Thoma. Ayaka also came to visit you a lot, she was the happiest person in inazuma when you two agreed to get married. Her best friend and her brother getting married was the best thing that could ever happen.

However, not everything was okay in your life. While becoming Ayato’s fiancé made you the happiest woman ever, your parents had grown to dislike him even more. Why you ask? Because he made you happy. In their eyes, someone like you did not deserve to be happy after making their lives so miserable. They were forcing you into marriage thinking that you’d live the rest of your life subdued and controlled by a manipulative man, but to their dismay Ayato had saved you, and now they would see you smile way more than you ever had. The only reason why they kept quiet about their dislike for this marriage was due to the attention they were getting. Your parents were never really that important in your household, for your fathers older brother was the one leading the Kanjou Commission. But now, the announcement of your marriage to the Yashiro Commissioner had given your parents renewed importance. Besides, every single person in Inazuma knew better than to mess with the Yashiro Commissioner.

That did not stop them from making your life miserable though. Their behaviour was getting worse, their words were sharper than the blade of the strongest of swords. You payed no heed to them whenever you could help it, trying to focus on the happiness you had found.

It had been two weeks since you and Ayato had met, and today you saw Thoma again, with a gift in his hand. “Lady Hiragi! My lord wanted me to deliver this to you, and express his affection for you.” You smiled shyly, accepting the gift with gratitude. “Thank you Thoma, please thank him from my side, I will send him a letter today itself.” Thoma nodded, bidding you farewell as he headed back to Inazuma city.

You came back to your bedroom, opening the package and gasped seeing its contents. There lay a fine box of paints, each made from flowers all over Teyvat. There were over 20 vibrant colours, each packaged so intricately in embroidered glass bottles. You knew he must’ve spend a fortune in buying these, and once again you felt like the luckiest woman in Teyvat. You had told him about your love for art about a month ago, and you remember how enthralled he was, asking you all sorts of questions about the different types of painting techniques and art styles. It was that day you realised that Ayato was very fond of art, and his curiosity and willingness to learn about something you were so fond of made your heart warm. He truly had outdone himself by giving you this gift. You carefully closed the box of paints, deciding to keep it somewhere safe and hidden, but alas, fate had other plans.

Your parents barged into your room, making you gasp, your eyes widening with fear. You knew their hatred towards your love for painting, and if they found out what Ayato had gifted you, they would destroy it. Your father noticed the slight panic in your eyes, and his eyes went towards the box you were holding so close to yourself. “What are you holding huh?! Show me now!” “It’s nothing father, just a gift Lord Kamisato sent..” “Do you think I’m stupid girl? I said, hand me the box now!” You were helpless, but you tried to put up a brave front. This gift was too precious to be destroyed, and you were tired of your parent’s’ behaviour.

“Why father?” You saw the way his eyes turned dark with rage, and he stormed towards you, snatching the box from your hands despite your struggle. “How dare you question me in my own house you ungrateful girl?!” You saw as he opened the beautiful box, revealing delicate glass bottles filled with paints. “Paints in my house? After telling you countless times to quit this nonsense and behave like a proper lady? Have you no shame?!” You felt your heart drop, wanting to protect Ayato’s gift from your father, as you tried to go to him, only to be held back by your mother, who was furiously glaring at you. “How dare you have the audacity of disobeying your father!” She yelled, her grip on your wrists burning you. Before you could reply, you heard a loud crash, and right there and then, your heart broke with the same intensity. You looked back, seeing the once beautifully bottled paints on the floor, broken shards of glass all over your room. You let out a cry of agony, falling on the floor, trying to somehow salvage the disaster. “NO! Why…why…” you cried helplessly, as you somehow tried to collect the paint back, desperately trying to save the precious gift your fiancé had given to you with so much love. You hissed as the shards of glass pierced through your soft skin, your crimson blood now mixing with the paints on the floor.

While you were on the floor, weeping in agony, your mother marched towards your drawer, finding what she had suspected: the bunch of letters Ayato had been sending to you. Your head snapped in her direction when you heard the ripping of paper, and you felt your already broken heart get crushed under the weight of your mother’s heartless actions. “MOTHER! STOP, PLEASE!” But your pleas were unheard and ignored, as she tossed the torn pieces of paper into the fireplace. “Disobedient girls like you need to be taught a lesson” you heard the cold voice of your mother speak, as you were left on the floor, tears falling endlessly onto your cheeks. You looked at them, the very people who had given birth to you; who seemed so pleased seeing you broken and wounded. “WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU BOTH? What did I do to deserve this!?” This seemed to anger your parents even more, as your mother gripped onto your hair, making you look at her and her husband. “You are no one to raise your pathetic voice at us! It is because of us that you are marrying that fool, and you do not deserve love! You have ruined our lives, your existence is a mistake! It would’ve been better if we had no child!”

Your father then added in a cold voice. “You are not stepping out of this house now. It’s time you learnt your place you ungrateful child.” And just like that, they left, locking you inside your room. You wept bitterly, as all the tears of pain and agony came crashing down on you. You felt pathetic, powerless and weak. You could not protect your happiness, you could not protect the love filled letter and gift that your fiancé had taken so much effort to prepare for you. You sat there, hands bleeding while your heart and soul wept bitterly. You missed Ayato so much, but now how were you going to reach him? You were trapped, locked like a prisoner. You did not know what was going to happen to you now.

Ayato paced back and forth in his study, a frown visible on his usually calm face. It had been 2 weeks since he sent you the paints, but he had not heard from you at all. No letter, no messengers, nothing. There was a strong feeling of dread and unease in his heart, as if something was terribly wrong. He needed to see you, he was afraid something had happened. although you never shared the details, he knew your parents were bad people, and he also knew they disliked him greatly. Had they harmed you in some manner in his absence? He had to stay in inazuma city due to continuous meetings with the almighty Shogun about removing the Sakoku decree as well as forming compensations to the people who were drastically affected by the vision hunt decree. She had changed into a gentle god, and all of inazuma was very grateful for that.

“Sir, we have a little intel.” He heard one of his shumatsubaan say, whom he had sent over to Ritou earlier this morning to check up on you somehow. “What is it?” “The Hiragi Estate is heavily guarded, especially the area near the back gardens where Lady Hiragi Y/N’s room is situated. They have also forbidden any visitors at the moment. Moreover, the people of Ritou have not seen or heard anything about her in over two weeks.” Ayato’s heard grew even more uneasy. It was as he had feared, something had happened to you. “You may go, thank you for your service.” The man bowed and left, as Ayato took a deep breath, feeling anger seeping into his chest. He was going to get you out of there today. If he found even a single scratch on your being, he would rain hell on your parents. He immediately left his home, heading straight towards Ritou.

Upon his arrival at the Hiragi estate, he saw the panic in the guards eyes. How could they deny the Yashiro Commissioner entry? Ayato payed them no heed, storming into the household, his eyes filled with rage as every single clue lead to only one conclusion, his love being harmed. As he walked into the living room, your mother’s eyes widened. How was that wretched Kamisato boy here? “L..lord Kamisato! What a pleasant surprise, what is the matter-“ “with all due respect Lady Hiragi, I am not here for pleasantries, I wish to meet my fiancé right now please.” Ayato’s ice cold tone cut her off, his eyes dark and threatening.

“Ah..well you see, Y/N is..resting! Perhaps you can meet her another day?” Ayato took a deep breath to somehow calm down as the urge to reach for his sword grew stronger than ever. Did these old fools think he was dumb? “Lady Hiragi. I wish to see Y/N. right. Now.” Hearing the commotion, your father rushed towards his wife, only to see their worst nightmare right inside their house. “Kamisato Ayato, what inappropriate behaviour is this, marching into someone’s home?” Ayato laughed at his words, but that laugh sent a chill down the couple’s spine. It was a cold and menacing laugh, one that made them feel weak in front of the Yashiro Commissioner.

“Do you both take me to be a fool? Did you really think that trapping my soon to be wife was a wise decision?” He stood up, his patience completely spent as he walked closer to your father, easily towering over the shorter man. Ayato’s voice was deep and unforgiving, his voice laced with venom. “If any of you try to stop me, I will tear down every single wall of this house until I see my love. And if I find a single scratch on her, not even the Almighty Shogun will be able to save you from my wrath.” With these words, ayato walked off, trying to locate your room.

You were sitting in a corner of your room, head buried between your arms. Your once glowing face was now dull and lifeless, the dark circles around your eyes evidently showing the countless nights you had not slept. You had not been able to step out of your house, the maids only gave you one meal a day. You missed Ayato so much, his beautiful lavender eyes, his deep voice, his honeyed words and the warmth of his embrace. You missed him so much, but you could not do anything, powerless before the wrath of your parents who had once again managed to break you. However, you frowned hearing loud and hurried footsteps approaching your room, as the door of your room opened. Your eyes widened seeing the person you were longing for in front of your eyes. “Ayato…”

To say that his heart broke was a cruel understatement. He felt his soul twist in agony, his blood boil in anger and his eyes tear up seeing your condition. You looked so weak, so frail, your dull and lifeless eyes surrounded with dark circles. Your room was a mess, and he noticed the shattered glass bottles of the paints he had gifted you near the corner you were sitting in. In the fireplace was the residue of burnt paper, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out what had happened. He rushed to you, immediately taking you in his arms. “Daarin…”

You broke down into sobs hearing his voice, clutching onto his blazer. Finally he was here, the warmth you longed for engulfed you like a bonfire on a snowy night. You held onto him like your life depended on it, crying uncontrollably. What you did not know was that tears had fallen down Ayato’s eyes too. He felt so horrible for leaving you alone in this hell, so horrible for being unable to protect you. Seeing you in such a state hurt him more than any blade ever had. Your cries were breaking his heart. Still, he held himself strong for you, gently caressing your hair, holding you so close. “Hush my love, I’m here with you..none of this is your fault, I’m so sorry for leaving you alone here..”

You shook your head, not wanting him to feel guilty for what had happened. You looked up into those lavender eyes you loved so much, your bottom lip trembling with guilt and remorse. “Ayato…I’m sorry…I couldn’t save your gift..father broke it…and mother burnt all your letters…I couldn’t do anything..forgive me for being so weak..” you ended up sobbing again, and Ayato engulfed you in his arms, kissing your forehead. “Shhh my love…you are not weak, none of this was your fault. I will gift you a hundred more of those paints, I will write a million more letters to you. What matters to me is you Daarin. You are the bravest woman I’ve ever seen..And now that im here, I promise you on my honour, I will not let you step a foot into this house again. Im going to get you out of here.”

You looked up at him, hesitant and unsure of how this would work, being afraid of the public gossip this action might invoke. As if reading your thoughts, Ayato wiped your tears away gently, his voice being gentle, but his words were full of anger. “I’m going to make them pay. They will spend the rest of their lives, wishing they had never dared to harm you. I will bring justice to you love, you have my word. No one harms my Family.”