#set your daughter up for a sham wedding that turns out to be a blood sacrifice!

[my-burnt-city]

punchdrunk, i'm begging you, let your social media team see the show, these are NOT the way to do valentine's day

(except this one, obvs 🥰🥰🥰)

[amysteryspot]

Don’t know how to stop - Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Prompts: 40. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”; 69. “What do you want me to say?” + "Don't Know How to Stop" by Halestorm

Requested by: @sighonahurricane

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Changretta!Reader

Summary: “Or what, Thomas?” she interrupted him, defiance in her eyes as she glared back at him. “We both know you won’t kill me. You want revenge, want to see me suffer or you would have already killed me that night at the warehouse, in front of my father.”

Warnings: Smut/NSFW/+18, mentions of violence, swearing, there's a very brief implied reference to rape

Word Count: 2510

A/N: Not even going to try and find an excuse as to why this is longer than it should be, all you need to know is that I was in the mood. I absolutely loved to write this, but I'm feeling anxious about what you all are going to think of it. Really hope that you like it. For reference, reader is a Changretta and this is set between season three/four. Feedback is very much appreciated as always.

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname

English is not my first language and this wasn’t proofread by a beta.

If you want to be tagged in my stories, just send me a message.

She had been the one that faced the Devil. Down on her knees in front of him, begging for her father’s life as he held the knife to her throat.

“One life for another,” she had offered, fingers curling into the fabric of his waistcoat. “You can have me. Do anything you want with me, just spare his life.”

The deal had been made that night, for reasons that Tommy still couldn’t understand, even after all these years. He wasn’t even sure if he had really considered the possibility of killing her, despite the rage clouding his mind at the time.

Vicente walked free, dragged out of the room in tears, at the expense of leaving his daughter behind, a prisoner of war.

Tommy confined her to the guest wing of Arrow House. He didn’t want to see her and be reminded of the reason why he slept in an empty bed now. It was easier to ignore her existence if he didn’t have to see her every day.

His son had other plans though. Somehow, Charlie found a way to escape his nanny and ended up finding (Y/N). Tommy knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into his son’s room to find it empty. It was safe to say that he was seeing red as he climbed down the stairs, calling for Mary and asking about the whereabouts of the nanny and the baby.

The door to her room hit the wall with a loud bang that startled both the women in there and Charlie, who was all curled up in (Y/N)’s arms.

Tommy looked at the nanny, ordering, “Take Charlie back to his room.”

She did as commanded, quickly, even though the boy didn’t seem very pleased with the idea of leaving (Y/N)’s arms. Tommy walked straight up to her, grabbing her tightly by the jaw, and almost lifting her from the ground.

“You don’t get to talk to him. You don’t even look his way or else…”

“Or what, Thomas?” she interrupted him, defiance in her eyes as she glared back at him. “We both know you won’t kill me. You want revenge, want to see me suffer or you would have already killed me that night at the warehouse, in front of my father.”

His hold on her had gone lax but he still kept his hands on her.

(Y/N) continued, “The boy came to me, I’m not going to blame a child for sins that aren’t his.”

Tommy observed her in silence for a minute. The rise and fall from her chest, the way both her hands were circling his wrist, how she didn’t show any sign of fear even though the imbalance in power was evident. He let her go, leaving the room without another world, only to be haunted by the image of her in his dreams.

“Are you going to kill her or fuck her?” Polly’s voice got him out of his trance.

He looked up at her but did not answer, because he didn’t know what to say.

Polly continued, “Because these are the two available options with you. You are either going to kill her or you’re going to fuck her. Considering that you are mourning, I would bet on the second, or you would have killed her already.”

She took a drag from her cigarette, taking her time in exhaling the smoke, before saying, “You men start wars because of your uncontrollable ego, and in the end, is always the women who pay the price of it.”

In the end, both Polly and (Y/N) were right. He didn’t kill her. His aunt’s words have made him realize something better to put a definitive end to this war between them and the Italians: a wedding. What could be worse for Vicente than having to marry his only daughter to a Shelby?

After a year of mourning, Thomas married (Y/N) Changretta, sealing the pact she had made with him for good.

They slept in separate rooms at opposite ends of the corridor. Since she was his wife now, Tommy had to get used to the idea that Charlie would have to be around her, or people would get suspicious. He had never been one to care about what people thought of him, but sometimes it was easier to maintain the appearances than to go against the norm.

If Tommy was worried about having to see her more often now that they shared the same corridor, he was wrong. (Y/N) was like a ghost. He rarely saw her outside of brief encounters whenever he was at home at the time the meals were served, the occasions when he found her in Charles’s nursery, or when she had to accompany at events.

On those occasions, (Y/N) was the image of a perfect, dutiful wife. She was well mannered and educated, making it easy for her to hold conversations with the most different people. Her charm and beauty helped her, and Tommy was surprised at how good she was at making people believe that their marriage wasn’t a sham.

His family and the staff of the house knew better though—all (Y/N) was was spoils of war.

They were surprisingly civil to each other, posing for the public eye as the perfect couple and avoiding each other like the plague at home. When they met at home, occasionally, a polite conversation could end up in a fight. Except for that night when Tommy found Charlie in (Y/N)’s arms for the first time, their arguments never turned physical.

Until one night when Tommy was especially pissed off by something business-related and ended up pressing her up between his body and the wall of her the drawing-room.

(Y/N) had never backed away from a fight, never showed any signs that she was afraid of him. But that night, that night the way she flinched when he touched her and the look of pure horror on her face as she looked at him, made Tommy let go of her immediately.

As he watched her ran away from the room, Tommy realized what must have crossed her mind, and the mere thought of it made his blood boil. The glass of whiskey that was on his desk exploded in a hundred pieces on the wall, before he retired to his room, plagued by the sight of her running away from him.

He tried to be more careful around her after that, always seeking some kind of consent from her before getting too close or touching her. Tommy would never force her to have sex with him, not for revenge, not because she was his wife.

They crossed the line from civil to friendly at some point, maybe after she sassed him because of Lizzie in front of the whole family, making everyone laugh, but he was not sure. What he did know for sure was that he started to see her as more than someone who was there because of a casualty of war somewhere along the way.

It was hard to ignore her after that. It was hard to ignore the beautiful woman navigating the corridors of his house, playing with his son in the garden, handling the staff, helping with the business. It was hard to ignore the woman he tried to avoid for so long, the woman he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He wasn’t sure at what point he had started to consider the idea to fuck her, it just happened. One night, after they arrived from a gala, fighting about something that Tommy didn’t even remember anymore, they fucked against the vanity in her room.

After that first time, it all went downhill. It was like getting high for the first time and then not being able to control the need to take another hit. (Y/N) was warm, soft, willing, and available, and Tommy decided that he wasn’t going to deny himself or his needs searching for other options when he had her right there.

Things escalated quickly and they developed some kind of silent agreement, another deal. During the day, they acted like old acquaintances, respectful, and civil to each other. But after dawn, they would seek each other out, drowning together in a desire that seemed to have no end.

That had been a long time ago, so long that he didn’t remember how it was not to have her around. Long enough for some unrequited feelings to show up.

He did his best to ignore the guy talking to (Y/N). They were hosting a dinner at Arrow House, the man talking to her was some rich bachelor from London that was being a little too friendly to Tommy’s liking. He downed the whiskey in one gulp and noticed Polly watching him, but his attention is quickly drawn back to his wife.

At the end of the night, after all the guests either left for home or to the guest wing and all that is left are the Shelby’s at the parlour, Tommy revels in the feeling of (Y/N) sitting beside him, reclining against the arm he rested behind her shoulders. From the other side of the room, Polly looks at him and smiles, like she knows something that he doesn’t.

It happens the week after the gala. They’re both getting ready for a family meeting. His room became their room, unofficially, because her things were scattered all over the place—her perfume and jewelry on the bedside table, dresses on the wardrobe, lingerie on the drawers, even the sheets smelled like her.

“Tommy,” she exclaimed in a reprehensive tone, as he pressed himself against her back, arms sneaking around her waist and preventing her from running away as his lips trailed down her neck. “What are you doing?”

“Giving some very due attention to my wife,” he answered, casually, walking them both closer to the bed.

“In broad daylight?” (Y/N) gasped, something between surprise and a protest, although she was doing very little to resist his advances.

“Want to see you,” he stated, before turning her around to kiss her.

“Your family is downstairs waiting for you,” she warned against his lips, breath uneven and fingers clutching onto his shirt.

“My family is downstairs waiting for us,” he corrected, nibbling her earlobe and smiling because of the sound she made. “Let them wait. They’re probably too occupied drinking, anyway.”

Any pretense of resistance from her part vanished when Tommy started to unbutton her dress. He was desperate to feel her skin against his, to taste her, and be inside of her. When they were both finally naked and pressed against each other on the bed, it felt like some kind of miracle.

Tommy drank her in, from the blush on her cheeks to the way her toes curled when he touched a sensitive spot on her body. All the scars, the birthmarks, the dips and curves, the softness of her skin, the heady taste of her on his tongue, and how wet she could get for him. He wanted it all, needed all of her.

He was tired to fight against it, tired of pretending that this feeling gnawing on his chest was something else.

“(Y/N/N),” he breaths against her skin, the feeling of her short nails scratching his back driving him crazy. “I love you.”

Her eyes open to stare right into his, something between surprise and uncertainty on her features. Tommy kisses her, gripping her tights a little harder to dive deeper into her.

The whimper of need that comes out of her lips makes him wild. All he can think about is how she feels, how good she feels, how right she feels. Here, underneath him, crying out his name, welcoming him into her body, scratching his back as the both of them get lost in pure pleasure.

All it takes to make her unravel is for him to press the engorged nub at the apex of her thighs. (Y/N) comes undone and brings him down with her, just a few trusts later, her walls milking him from his orgasm, his seed taking place deep inside of her for the first time in a long time because they were too lost in each other to care.

One more time they pretended, dressing in silence and walking down the stairs as nothing more than acquaintances. If his family suspected of something, they didn’t show it.

The meeting went uneventful, as planned. (Y/N) found a way to sneak out of the parlour before him and when Tommy went upstairs to his room—their room—he found it empty.

Sighing, he made his way to the other end of the corridor. He knocked one time, before letting himself in. (Y/N) was sitting in front of the vanity, taking the pins out of her hair. She was already dressed to sleep, the silk nightgown revealing her legs and a bit of the lace underneath. Their gazes met through the mirror as Tommy closes the door behind him.

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I love you.”

(Y/N) takes a deep breath, still not turning around to face him.

“Tom…”

“We’ve been dancing around this for too long, it’s time to face it.”

She sighs, a hand running through her face as she says, “What do you want me to say?”

He is in her in a heartbeat, pulling her up and pressing her against the vanity, just like the first time they had sex. Tommy takes her face in between both of his hands, nose brushing against her as he mumbles against her lips,

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Tom, I can’t. We can’t,” she protests, weekly, eyes closed and hands holding his wrists.

“A little too late for that because I don’t know how to stop this.”

“Your brother blinder my brother, Tommy. Your wife was killed because of that. I’m only here because you wanted my father that and I made a bargain with you. How this is supposed to work. What people will think?”

“Fuck what people think. We are already married, (Y/N). What happened, happened. We can’t change it. But this thing between us, this thing is real. I’ve denied myself that long enough, not going to keep pretending anymore. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time now and I know, I know that you feel the same, so stop fighting against it and say it.”

Tommy’s lips brush against hers as he repeats himself, half plea, half command, “Say it.”

“I love you,” she whispers, eyes closed tightly as if the words will be less real if she can’t see him.

“Say it again,” he commands, nose bumping into hers while his thumbs caress her cheeks.

“I love you.”

“Again,” the sound is music to his ears and Tommy just can’t get enough of it.

(Y/N) opens her eyes, looks him in the eye, and professes, “I love you, Thomas Shelby.”

He smiles, for what feels like the first time in years, and confesses, “I love you too, Mrs. Shelby.”

.

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771 @internalmess3 @theshelbyclan @giowritess @captivatedbycillianmurphy

[lemonlushff-iy]

Had an itch....decided to scratch it....

Choices were made. 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the Inuyasha universe, but I sure do love playing with them. The rest is mine.

Chapter One

Inuyasha sighed as his father prattled on about this and that. He knew he should probably pay more attention to the man, but he really didn't want to be there right now. Sure...He enjoyed the warm sun on his skin...Could practically taste the fresh air on his tongue…But there was just something about being here that made him feel holier than thou.

He loathed coming to the tea fields his father owned, dressed in his best, while workers toiled around him. Women's fingers stained yellow green as they plucked the leaves from the bushes. Their backs hunched over, straining to support them as they worked. Their brows beaded with sweat while he…

He walked amongst them like a god.

They controlled their pay...and thus...in a way...their lives.

He didn't like it. Running a business wasn't meant for him, and yet.

That's exactly what he was being groomed to do. His elder brother had started one of his own, leaving him as the heir to his father's throne.

And he didn't want the crown.

He continued to follow his father as they walked through the rows of shrubs, his father nodding towards the women from time to time. He caught something about a harvest...something about profits and tea cakes...But nothing really held his attention.

Not until his father uttered the words, "What do you think of Zhao Kikyo?"

He felt his throat constrict.

Kikyo was the daughter of one of his father's business associates. A relatively attractive woman...nice...They had always gotten along, frankly.

Yet there was only one reason his father would be asking him about her.

And he didn't like it.

"I have no opinion of her," he replied dryly, swallowing. He knew what was coming next. This hadn't been the first time, after all.

"Perhaps you should obtain one," his father advised. "I have a meeting with her father next week," he continued, stepping over the legs of a kneeling woman as she worked. Like she was some tree branch that had fallen in his path. He didn't even give her the courtesy of a "pardon me".

"A meeting? To discuss what?" Playing dumb was not a wise choice, and he could feel his father's ire as he stopped, giving him a knowing look.

"Business. He has no son. I have two. One who is off in the west, and the other," he paused, turning to face him and rest his hands onto Inuyasha's shoulders. He looked him dead in the eye as he smiled, "The other is my legacy. The other will take this business and make it flourish for another generation. The other...will settle down with a nice woman. A respectable, educated woman, from a good family. A woman like Zhao Kikyo."

He could feel all the blood drain from his face.

Settle down?

With her?

He didn't know her that well!

Then again, what would that matter to his father? He hadn't known his mother when he married her. Hadn't known his brother's mother either.

He treated marriages as business contracts, and Inuyasha…

Inuyasha was a modern man with different ideals. He didn't have the heart or brain of a businessman. And he was...perhaps a bit more of a romantic that he should have been. Which is why he was blanching at the idea of wedding Zhao Kikyo.

"Father, I-"

"-She will be attending our meeting. It is our hopes that you will keep her...entertained during that time. Perhaps show her the fields. Take her by the ponds. Have lunch with her there."

"But-"

"-Her father and I are hoping that in perhaps, a few months, we can announce an engagement. Expanding and combining our empires together. Just think of it, Inuyasha…"

He didn't want to think of it.

In fact, he was finding it hard to breathe, let alone think of anything else. His father was all but forcing him into an engagement with this woman, all to expand his tea empire. He was using him as nothing more than a pawn - his own son - to get whatever he wanted.

Didn't they have enough?

Wasn't this enough? Why did they need more?

He couldn't handle more. He couldn't run more.

"I can't meet with Kikyo," Inuyasha blurted in a panic, and his father raised his silver brow at him in displeasure.

"Oh? And why not."

His mind was racing. Whirling. Why the hell couldn't he meet with Kikyo? His father would never accept anything he told him. He was single and of age and-

-And that was the problem.

He was single.

"Because I'm married," he blurted out, causing his father's face to shift in surprise.

He watched his father take a deep, slow breath before calmly exhaling.

"Married? Since when?"

"Last week," he nodded. "When you sent me to Beijing. She came with me, and we married in the city."

"Really? And who is my new daughter-in-law?" he pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. "One would have thought that their son would at least introduce him to her before now...It's a rather sudden marriage. Is there a reason for that?"

Inuyasha clenched his fists together at the implication.

"Love, father. Nothing else. You won't be a grandfather anytime soon."

"A pity since you ran off to marry this woman! Tell me, what is her name? Does she at least come from a respectable family?"

Respectable family.

Of course that's what he cared about. The family name. The family legacy.

And...he knew that he was calling his bluff. If Inuyasha said any number of the names his father would deem acceptable, he would be trapped and caught in a lie. He would be forced to marry either the woman he named, as having shown proof that he was interested in her or…

...He would be forced to wed Kikyo.

He needed someone else. Someone his father wouldn't know. Someone who would lie for him. Someone…

His eyes drifted past his father to the woman he had stepped over moments before. Her fingers moved like the wind as she plucked tea leaves from the bush before her, and her head was cocked to the side. She was trying to be subtle about it, but it was clear she was listening to them...and he found himself not minding.

Her profile was rather lovely...Familiar?

Her skin was tanned from working in the sun. Her fingers stained from the tea leaves. Her cheekbones were delicate, and her face soft...and her eyes…

It was rare to find a woman with familiar blue eyes like those. Let alone eyes that seemed so soft and caring. He felt like he remembered those eyes...She flicked her eyes up from the bush, as if she were waiting to see what he would say and do, and before he could stop himself...before he could think what he was doing, he was kneeling before her.

He took her hands and encouraged her to stand, her eyes widening as it seemed to click in her mind before it did his.

"Please," he whispered softly, so only she could hear it. "I'll repay you, I swear it."

Her jaw went slack, as he took her hand and turned to face his father.

"I'd like you to meet my wife."

His father's face was stoic, and betrayed none of his thoughts...until it slowly cracked into a wide, cunning smile. Inuyasha felt his blood freeze. He knew what his father was thinking now. This was a joke. An attempt to weasel out of another marriage...and if this was the game he wanted to play, then game on. He would smoke him out. Test him and his sham marriage...and when he emerged victorious…

He would not only be humiliated, but forced into another marriage.

A real one.

"Your wife," he all but mocked. "And what is your wife's name?"

"H-Higurashi. Higurashi Kagome," the woman replied, swallowing thickly as Inuyasha wrapped his arm around her side pulling her against his body.

"I was asking my son," he replied curtly, and Inuyasha glared at his father in return.

"And what does it matter who replies? You wanted her name, and she gave it to you. She's your daughter now!"

"A daughter who rebukes the family name?"

"I-I'm still used to saying my old one. The joys of wedded bliss seem to have made me forget that it's different now."

"Of course," his father drawled. "How foolish of me. Forgive me, Kagome. How long have you known my son?"

"A few months," Inuyasha interrupted, and his father shifted his gaze back to him.

"You seem to have a habit of answering for each other."

"Isn't that one of the joys of marriage?" He replied, trying to keep calm as his father attempted to rattle him.

"Mmm…" his father responded, his eyes roaming up and down Kagome's form, and he felt himself become a bit territorial over the small woman tucked into his side. He was weighing her. Judging her worth.

And he found her to be wanting.

"Just how did you meet? I cannot imagine that it would have been in a...social setting."

"He was visiting us to check on our work. He wanted to see how we were fairing. He was kind," she smiled softly, looking away from both him and his father for a moment. "I looked over heated, and he brought me some water. He stayed with me as I drank it until he was sure I would be alright, and began to talk. I was sad to see him leave, but he came back the next day with more water for me, and we spoke again, and again, until he asked me to come away with him and be his bride."

He...he remembered that.

The first part about bringing a woman water. It was her, wasn't it?

It was!

How many women had blue eyes? That was why they had looked so familiar.

"Mmm...and yet, my son hasn't swept you away from your work before now? You've been married for a week, after all."

"I've been looking for her replacement, upon her request," Inuyasha explained, giving her side a small, reassuring squeeze.

"Of course," his father smiled cooly. "Wouldn't want to leave us short staffed...Why don't you take her home then? You're newly weds, after all. I'm sure you would much rather be spending the day together exploring the joys of married life than be here in the fields."

Inuyasha swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to beat back the panic he felt.

"Of course. If we can take our leave then…"

"Please," his father gestured, waving them off, and Inuyasha gestured for Kagome to turn around, exhaling a shaky breath he was sure she heard a little too well. They hadn't made it more than five feet away before his father called back out to them again.

"Inuyasha? Bring your new wife over for dinner tonight. Your mother would love to meet her as well."

He felt his back stiffen as a new panic settled over him, and he glanced down at the small woman in his arms. She was refusing to look at him, and he hated himself for doing this to her. To them both.

"We will see you tonight, father."

Inuyasha opened the door to his apartment, nervously gesturing for Kagome to enter before him. The car ride here had been quiet. She had snuck peaks at him under the fringe of her black lashes, and he her...but...he hadn't known what to say. He was still reeling from what he had done to them, and she was trying to mentally piece together what was suddenly happening as well.

She shakily nodded her head and took a few steps into his apartment, her eyes widening as she looked around. It was nice. Large. Larger than a single man would need, and it was tastefully decorated. Hardwood floors, soothing floors...His home felt warm and welcoming.

She absently wondered if his mother had been responsible for this as he closed the door behind her and slumped against it, looking down at the floor.

They hadn't spoken yet about what he had done, and she looked at the silver haired man in curiosity. She had always liked Inuyasha. Far more than his father at least...but...she also knew that Inuyasha would have no memory of her. Why would he?

They had hundreds of workers in the fields, and she was no one special. Just one of the many...and one of the many who fancied the younger man. He was as handsome as his father, but...gentler. He had a softness in his eyes that his father didn't.

But…

Perhaps that was from the war.

It changed men. Normally for the worse...but with Inuyasha…

It seemed to soften him. Give him a greater appreciation for everything, big and small.

"Higurashi," he began slowly, and she tried to not blush at the sound of her name leaving his lips. "I don't think I can ever apologize enough for what I've done. I...I wasn't thinking clearly, and I've...Well…" he sighed, running his fingers through his silver locks. "Is there anything I can even do to make this right?"

"Perhaps...this is a conversation we can have sitting?" she prompted, and he felt his face twist from confusion to horror, scrambling away from the door.

"Yes! Of course...I...Let me take you to the living room. Can I get you something? Tea?"

She nodded shakily as he took her arm, guiding her out of the foyer. He could feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of her clothes, and she tried not to blush. She swallowed as he led her to a couch, and gestured for her to sit, before he scampered off to boil water for tea.

When she had awoken that morning, she never would have dreamed that this was where she would find herself by day's end. Sitting in Inuyasha's home...pretending to be his wife...summoned to dinner that night with his parents. Her head was spinning a little from the thought.

She wondered if he had a plan yet?

This charade couldn't last forever...and what happened when it came time for it to end?

He had told her that he would repay her somehow for this...she couldn't help but absently wonder how?

He had all but plucked her from the fields that morning, dubbed her his wife, and now she was out a job.

Oh…

Oh…

Oh no…

She heard the door to the living room open and Inuyasha stood on the other side of it, looking guilty and remorseful as he placed a tea tray before her before pouring it for her. He sat down in the chair across from her, nervously gripping the cup in his white knuckled hands.

He glanced from his tea up to her, and she was struck by the guilt etched into it.

"Higurashi," he swallowed, "I...I'm so sorry for this mess."

"It is quite a predicament, we're in," she nodded, taking her own tea cup and sipping from it. Her hands looked so dark against the pale white and blue of the china. It was lovely. It probably cost more than what she made in an entire year.

She placed it down onto the table before her - her hands returning to her lap as he mutely nodded.

"It's my fault. I...I panicked and I seem to have spun quite the web of lies for us…"

"And you have no plan, do you," she surmised. He shook his head, looking down into his lap.

"I don't."

And it was true. God...what was he going to do? He had all but made her his prisoner.

"I...I was thinking that...perhaps we could do this for a year?"

"A year?"

He nodded, his mind slowly trying to cobble together some plan.

"We could tell my parents we divorced after, and then you would be free to live your life again. I can pay you? I know I've cost you your job...My father won't allow you to return to the fields today, or ever again..." he mumbled, running his hands down his face. "You could - should, I suppose - live here with me so they won't suspect. That...that could be nice? And...and you could cook and clean? W-wives do that…" he proposed nervously.

Wives did other things too…

"Would I...Do you expect me to…" she felt her cheeks blush bright red as he furrowed his brow. Confusion gave way to understanding and she watched his jaw drop ever so slightly.

"No! No, of course not! We're...married in the eyes of my parents only. I wouldn't...we wouldn't...I don't expect that from you, Higurashi."

She felt herself relax slightly, and she nodded, delicately sipping her tea.

"I can do that for you...but...I...I have a request to make, if I may."

"Of course," he nodded, leaning forward.

"When this is over, I won't be able to return to a life in the tea fields, but I'll still need employment. I have...responsibilities to my family that I can't overlook. I'll need something still."

She watched him nod his head, encouraging her to continue, and she took a deep breath.

"When we...divorce, I'd like your help finding employment elsewhere, and I'd like you to help me prepare for that. Whatever it may be."

She watched him relax further, a smile spreading across his face.

"I can do that," he nodded. "Something better than before...A secretary, at the least. Do you know how to use a typewriter?"

She shook her head looking down into her lap.

"I...I can't...I don't know how to read," she admitted, looking back down into her lap. "I've never received a formal education…"

His face became soft as he murmured, "Forgive me - I shouldn't have assumed. Higurashi...if you pretend to be my wife, I promise you this. I'll treat you kindly, I'll pay you, I'll get you an education, and I'll find you employment."

She looked into his eyes, and saw how genuine he was. Looking at him when he looked like that...it made her heart skip a beat. He was such a handsome man. Strong jawline. Proud cheekbones. But his eyes...those amber eyes framed by long lashes and thick brows…

She mentally pulled herself away from the man before her and focused on his words instead. It felt like a fair trade. More than fair. He was giving her a chance at a better life, and all she had to do was pretend to love him and be his wife for a year.

She could handle that.

"Kagome," she mused, picking up her tea cup again.

"Kagome?" he replied, furrowing his brow in confusion. That wasn't an answer to his proposal.

"You should call me Kagome if you want me to pretend to be your wife," she reasoned, raising the cup to her lips and taking a small sip.

"Of course...Kagome."

Wall of tags for all new fictions:

@clearwillow​, @underwater0phelia​, @keichanz​, @dangerouspompadour​, @sunsetskys​, @ajoy3fanfics​, @sangoslays​, @zelink-inukag​, @v0dka-cat​, @cloudsz04, @theinuyashareader​, @itzatakahashi​, @l-taisho29​, @lavendertwilight89​, @yurawiththegoodhair​, @saturnsilence​, @lavaffair​, @liz8080​, @blairex​, @eringobroke​, @fawn-eyed-girl​, @fandomobsessions016​, @neutronstarchild​

I know. Needs work. BUT. I feel better for having scratched the itch at least. Got the bulk of this done last night...and it kept asking me to work on it more today. 

Mother appeased. 

Hopefully the child is pleased. 

......For now.