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#someone marry me with paper rings please
starstruckmoony · 2 years
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paper rings.
masterlist
pairing - sirius black x reader
summary - you make paper rings for yourself and sirius in potions class.
trope/tags - lots of fluff
word count - 1.3k
warnings - language
potions were never really your cup of tea. you could never wrap your head around anything you'd learn about them at all. the recepies, the effects, why people even made some of them knowing how awful the consequences could be- in other words, you loathed the class.
to top it all off, you were slughorn's least favourite student, or at least that what was what you managed to convince yourself. you had a feeling that the man was out to get you. you were pretty certain that he could sense your negative energy whenever you stepped through the door. sirius always tried his best to reassure you, but you were certain that your professor would get a thrill whenever you would ruin a potion or accidentally curse in the middle of his class because it meant that he could give you detention.
the class started off quite alright that day. slughorn was in a rather good mood and he settled for only having you all read a passage from your books, which was very conveniently about the most powerful love potion itself - amortentia.
you and sirius finished with reading the writing you were given by your professor a bit sooner than the other students, which meant you were left with nothing to kill the remaining time. the bloody thirty five minutes of it.
since you couldn't actually speak to your boyfriend, because that would result in the both of you getting detention (and having sirius get in trouble just because he happened to have some involvement with you was the last thing you needed), you were forced to look for a new form of entertainment - which somehow happened to be making rings out of paper. sirius was not as successful as you, though, he tried to find something interesting about the dirty classroom ceiling and he looked like all life had been drained out of him. nobody could blame him. remus wasn't doing any better either, the taller boy was absolutely exhausted and he had fallen asleep only a few minutes after the lesson started.
"fuck." you whispered, mostly to yourself, when the tiny piece of parchment in your hand refused to bend in the direction you wanted it to. sirius noticed your sudden change in attitude and got intrigued by what you were up to.
"what's that?" he shifted in his seat, curiously looking over your arm to get a better look at your doings.
"paper rings." you whispered in response, a happy smile making its way to your face when you finally finished with the second one. he took one of the rings into his hands and observed it for a moment before sliding it onto his finger, showing it off to you with the biggest grin. it fit perfectly.
"i wonder who was on your mind when you made this." he smirked in satisfaction and inched a little closer to you. you laughed quietly, glancing over at slughorn who was too busy with other things to notice that you weren't exactly doing what you were supposed to.
"your little brother. such a nice bloke, isn't he?" you teased, sliding the other ring onto your own finger. he snorted at your sarcastic reply to his stupid remark, but immediately composed himself once he heard slughorn clear throat. the man glared in his direction, and sirius quickly put his head down and pretended like he was still the reading the text from his book.
because of that, you had to spend the next few minutes sitting in complete silence. the only thing that could be heard was ticking of the old clock on the wall. twenty five sodding minutes.
you couldn't wait to finally leave the godforsaken class and head to your next one. you weren't even sure which lesson you needed to attend after potions, yet all you wanted to do was to get the hell out of there, even if your next class was going to be something just as frustrating. you would rather have sat through five hours of divination than whatever that was.
sirius seemed to have decided that he wanted to put his good reputation at risk, yet again. being one of the best students in the year and coming from a family that was known as noble had its perks, but sirius had always told himself that it had more disadvantages than anything else. he was supposed to be a model student, and set an example to others. that irked him the most, as it was pretty challenging for a marauder, considering he got detention at least ten times that year and november had barely started. he thought about it for a while, but after he realised he was probably no longer in professor slughorn's good graces after receiving that glare anyway, he moved dangerously close to you. you felt his breath fanning over your ear, his lips were almost pressing against it.
"i think i might ask you to marry me with one of these in a few years." he broke the silence between the two of you, whispering those words only for you to hear. that simple sentence turned your face crimson red. you inhaled sharply in attempt to hold back the surprised giggle that was threatening to escape.
"you're mental." you guffawed, hiding your blushing face in your arms that were rested on the table. he smiled in satisfaction, that was the very reaction he wanted to get from you and he'd never felt so proud of himself. that shit-eating grin of his only left his face when you pressed your own lips against his ear.
"wanna know a secret? i'd say yes." you said the words with a smirk and knew all too well that they sent him into a frenzy. one could say he was malfunctioning. you bit your lip harshly, struggling to keep yourself together. sirius turned his head look at you, and neither of you could hold back your laughter for any longer after seeing each other's rose red faces.
"miss l/n! mister black!" slughorn looked at the two of you in shock. he did not miss the mess that you created on the table, or the rings that you and sirius had on your fingers either. his surprised reaction and the sheer terror you saw in him only made the giggles more difficult to stifle, so you accidentally laughed in his face.
"miss l/n!" the poor man could barely keep himself together, so he glanced over at sirius as if he was the last possible resort (which he was), searching for some form of explanation, "mister black, what's the meaning of this?"
"well, if you must know, we were just about to start planning our wedding." he cleared his throat as he spoke, trying to come off as formal as he possibly could. his serious facial expression and the blaringly obvious mocking tone of his voice made you snort, which sent the rest of the students into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. james was having a hard time breathing, and the whole commotion had woken poor remus up.
"very well. i will see you both after class. you are free to leave now." professor slughorn said blankly, walking back to his table and putting his glasses on as he returned to grading a pile of essays.
"yes, professor." sirius choked out, tugging at the sleeve of your jumper. you left the classroom snickering, and not without almost falling over because of your clumsy sprint.
"planning our wedding?" you questioned in amusement as you walked with him in the hallway, and he intertwined your fingers with his.
"yes, i'd like to think we just got engaged. " he pointed out what he thought was obvious, that smug smile never leaving his face.
"oh-" he kissed your cheek before you could put your thoughts into words, and you realised that getting in trouble this time may have indeed been worth it.
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pucksandpower · 11 months
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Charles Leclerc x pop star!Reader - Social Media AU
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari, and 1,064,382 others
charles_leclerc pole ➡️ prize
View all 3,156 comments
yourusername keep the momentum rolling 👏
charles_leclerc for you … always
f1wagupdates i can’t tell if they are flirting or if charles is just starstruck and awkward
feralferrari probably a mix of both
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 1,072,941 others
charles_leclerc i am very calm about this
View all 3,128 comments
yourusername sounds like something someone who is not very calm about this would say 🤨
charles_leclerc calm is actually my middle name
yourusername isn’t it marc hervé perceval?
charles_leclerc that is a common misconception
pierregasly there are many words i would use to describe you right now but calm is not one of them
carlossainz55 he screamed so loud i thought a crazy fan broke into his driver’s room
charles_leclerc stop lying to embarrass me, mates
scuderiaferrari but they’re not lying. admin heard you screaming from the other side of the motorhome too
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, y/nnation, and 1,293,574 others
charles_leclerc beau. incroyable. fabuleux. magnifique. iconique. fantastique 💜
View all 3,861 comments
yourusername hope it didn’t disappoint
arthur_leclerc are you kidding? we physically had to drag him backstage after the concert was over because he refused to accept it was finished
charles_leclerc i should have left you at home, arthur
charles_leclerc and a y/n y/l/n concert could never ever disappoint. you made me completely speechless
lorenzotl it’s true. he forgot how to speak french, italian, and english so we had to use charades to communicate
y/nnation she is so ethereal 😍
scuderiared y/n and charles in one place is dangerous levels of perfection
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 1,348,895
charles_leclerc never thought anything could possibly be sweeter than winning in monaco until i got my reward for winning in monaco
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yourusername and with such a sweet audience too 😘
y/nnation how does it feel to live my dream?
stillbejeweled the things i would do for a private y/n y/l/n concert 😵‍💫
baddieblood the things i would do to go to a regular y/n y/l/n concert. all the tickets were sold out before i could buy any 🥲
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yourusername
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Liked by charles_leclerc, f1wagupdates, and 4,852,936 others
yourusername i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings
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charles_leclerc i’m so in love that i might stop breathing
yourusername you make me feel the same exact way
yourusername but please don’t stop breathing or else a hoard of very angry ferrari fans will be after me
y/nnation this just made me happier than i was at my own engagement 🫣
f1wagupdates i’ve been dreaming of this day since they first interacted online
charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, f1, and 1,685,273 others
charles_leclerc it's a love story, baby, just say yes
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yourusername it's you and me, that's my whole world
charles_leclerc all's well that ends well to end up with you
scuderiaferrari we are so happy for you both and are definitely not fangirling (we are totally fangirling) ❤️
f1 from pop princess to grid princess 🙌
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nana-gumi · 2 months
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thinking of you g.satoru
pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader
cw: angst / comfort, failed marriage, having delusions/hallucinations, mental illness, self harm, naoya zenin (yes he's a warning), manipulation, no curses au, businessman! gojo, arranged marriage mentioned, mentions of abuse, trash family (as usual), suggestive ending! not proofread hehe
a/n: i based this au from katy perry's 'thinking of you' you can listen while reading! also currently obsessed with this blue-eyed king :'(
everything was perfect, your marriage with gojo satoru was already perfect, but then he suddenly wanted a divorce and you couldn't do anything about it. your parents ended up forcing you to marry a man from another powerful clan, naoya zenin.
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gojo satoru was too perfect for you. that was your first thought when you married the man.
even though it was an arranged marriage, gojo satoru wasn't as bad as you thought he would be.
rumors says that he was ruthless, cocky, and he thinks too high of himself, to which is true, but gojo satoru has a side that only you knew, his wife.
everything was perfect, your relationship with gojo satoru was already perfect, but why did it end up him filing divorce?
when satoru told you about the divorce, you couldn't do anything about it anymore. you couldn't even ask him about it, not when satoru never came home for a week, leaving you alone to drown in your thoughts.
what pushed him to file a divorce? where you not enough or did he found someone better than you? you hoped it's the first one because you didn't want to see satoru happy with someone that isn't you.
when satoru came back, you didn't have a choice but to sign the papers.
not once did he talk to you, or explain everything to you. he just watched you sign the paper.
satoru sat across you as he played with the pen on his hand.
"here." you muttered with a hoarse voice as you pushed the folder infront of him and satoru only stared at the paper before closing it.
he stood up, fixing his tuxedo as he took the folder in his hand and turned around. but you wouldn't let him, not when he didn't explain everything to you. you didn't want a divorce in the first place.
"satoru." you called, standing up at the chair as well as he glanced back at you. "satoru.." you called again but this time, your voice was pleading.
satoru gulped the lump in his throat as he looked back infront of him and looked down on the ground.
"i don't want this, satoru." you said as you walked close to him. "say something please, why? what happened?" at this point, you couldn't stop anymore as you spilled every question that you've been keeping for the week that he was gone. "did you- did you find someone?" you asked, looking down on the ground as if you were ashamed of your question.
"i don't need you anymore," he said, but those simple words never failed to put an ache in your chest.
"what?" you said in disbelief.
"don't make me repeat myself." he said with a sigh.
it was silent for a moment and satoru was taken aback when you pulled him by his wrist.
he watched as you place your wedding ring on his palms.
"i don't think i can keep this." you said as you look at his blue eyes, hoping that he would take back everything.
"keep it." he said as you shake your head.
"it's expensive, right?" you said as you sighed deeply. "take care, satoru. our times together, i hope some of it were genuine and real." you said before leaving his penthouse.
-
i don't need you anymore. did satoru only agree to the marriage because he needed something from you? did he finally get what he wanted? but-
satoru did love me at some point, right? at least he did. you said to yourself as you hit your head with your hand, trying to remove the negative thoughts and forcing yourself to think of the positive ones. 
you wonder what satoru wanted from you? was it really from you or your family's business?  
you pinched yourself, hoping and praying that everything was just a dream, and you'll wake up with satoru beside you, kissing you, telling you how much you mean to him, unaware of your tears coming out of your eyes.
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"you had one job! the gojo clan was already in our grasp, how could you let that man file a divorce! you're such a failure." your mother said but your mind was still left in your shared home with satoru, you were still processing the whole divorce incident as you stare at the ground, his last words playing inside your head like a broken radio. 
"what are you crying for!" she said, a scoff leaving her mouth. "i knew you were useless for this job, i should've let your sister marry that vicious man." you mother muttered as she massaged her temples. 
what job was your mother even talking about? you were opposed with their objectives when you married gojo satoru. they wanted the money and power, but you just wanted to be loved, which even satoru couldn't give you. maybe you really are a failure. 
you stayed in your dark room countless nights with your mind was somewhere and your heart? gojo satoru took it with him. he took your heart, and you were left with nothing. 
"satoru.." you mumbled, caressing the cold empty spot beside you, thinking that he was there, lying beside you with that toothy grin on his face.  
you smiled as you hugged his imaginary figure. you were going insane, creating an image of him in your mind to cope up. 
you hugged him as tight as you could but, in the end, it was just you and your cold pillow. 
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"this is her?" naoya zenin said as he crossed his legs. "looks like she just got out of the jungle." he said, laughing at his own words. 
your mother laughs nervously as she forced you to stand infront of her. "i told you to get dressed!" she whisper-yelled on your ear before going back from forcing a laugh. "ah yes, this my youngest daughter, she's still not in her right mind. you know, that gojo satoru ended things with her." your mother said that caught the zenin's interest. 
"oh? gojo satoru, huh?" he said a smirk making its way to his lips. "fine, i accept your proposal." 
"but mama! satoru and i are married!" 
"shut up! you're sick in the head." 
"no!" you said as you pushed her, her back hitting the couch as she was forced to sit down. 
"how could you push me!" she said, gripping your forearm as you whined in pain. "i'm selling you off to the zenin's! you better do your job better this time." she said as you shake your head. 
"satoru will be sad mama..." you mumbled as tears started to gather in your eyes. your mother can only scoff, convinced that you've hit your head and gone insane. 
"satoru answer please." you cried. you already called him multiple times but all were left unanswered and yet you still refused to give up. "please.." you tried and tried, until the number blocked you.  
so this is where it ends.  
a curse left your mouth as you squeezed your hair with your fingers. 
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"gojo satoru wasted a gem like you." naoya zenin said as he clicked his tongue, sliding his finger on your jaw to your lips. "it's his lost, darling." he said, giving your lips a peck. it was disgusting but you couldn't do anything about it as you let him. 
naoya kissed you but all you could think of was satoru. the way naoya hugs you, satoru's hugs were the most comfortable. his words were not as sweet as satoru's. everything naoya does to you, satoru could only be the person in your mind. 
the marriage was private, only your and his relatives were around to witness.
it's been a month and you're still hoping that satoru would suddenly appear and take you away, but as more months passed by, your starting to lose hope.
-
you cupped naoya's cheeks in your hands as you leaned your forehead against his.  
"satoru." you mumbled as you smiled and then a yelp left your mouth when you were pushed. 
"that's too cruel, (name). stop calling me satoru, don't compare me with that piece of garbage." naoya said, squeezing your cheeks with his fingers. "listen, gojo dumped you, even used you! he did not see the real you, he did not realize how precious you are, and it's me! only I saw it. forget about that trash, this is not about him."  
shut up! 
"okay, i will. sorry naoya." shut up! 
"yeah? that's it, clever girl."  
"satoru!" you jolted awake from a nightmare as you looked around the room. 
"it's naoya, darling." 
"oh, s-sorry! i didn't mean-" 
"shh, it's fine."  
"i'm sorry naoya.." 
"like i said, it's fine." he said as he smirked at your helpless situation. "a kiss in exchange."  
"come on, say it." 
"i love you.." you gulped the lump in your throat as you tried to get up from his lap, but he stopped you before you could even move. 
"hm?" he hummed, caressing your waist with his hands. 
"n-naoya." 
"say that again." 
"i love you, naoya." 
"there we go. i love you too." 
"we hate him, right? he's our enemy." naoya said as you hummed in response, but that wasn't enough for naoya. "say it." 
"gojo satoru is a piece of trash." 
"right? he is." he said as he chuckled.
"why did you hurt yourself?" naoya said as he caressed the fresh scars on your wrist. "see what that man does to you? he's poisoning your mind!" naoya cooed as he wiped the tears in your cheeks. "i'm here, you don't need him." 
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you didn't expect to see satoru after the divorce several months ago at a party where all clans were gathered, enemies or allies, it doesn't matter. 
"if it isn't gojo satoru." naoya greeted, a smirk forming on his lips as the blue-eyed man scowled at him. naoya eyes shifted from the woman beside gojo satoru. "such a beautiful lady, your wife, new wife perhaps?" naoya said as the woman exchanged glances with gojo. 
"we're not-" 
"naoya?" your voice cuts off the woman's and naoya couldn't be happier for your right timing. 
"ah, meet my wife." he introduced, your eyes meeting with the blue ones. naoya thought it was entertaining to watch you and his enemy. he couldn't contain his smile as he watched gojo's eyes go widen, but then naoya's eyebrows furrowed when he saw how you looked at gojo satoru. 
you felt naoya's hand tightened on your waist. 
"h-hello, it was nice to meet you." you stammered, avoiding the curious blue eyes. 
"stop bothering me." he said, and your heart couldn't hurt more as he left, your eyes meeting the worried ones of the woman that was just beside him as she followed him. 
all your hope disappeared as you watched satoru leave the venue. 
"see? he's so rude."
"come on, stop crying now. everyone would think we're fighting." naoya said. 
"i'm sorry." you cried, wiping your face with a tissue. 
"gojo satoru was so rude, right? he told you to stop bothering him. poor you." he said as he rubbed your back up and down with his palm. 
"i hate him..." 
"that's right! hate him!" naoya said with a clap of his hands. "he doesn't deserve you." 
"gojo that's enough." the woman, who is his friend, shoko, said.  
"another glass please." satoru said. 
"drinking wouldn't do anything!" shoko scolded, taking the glass from satoru's hand. "i shouldn't have agreed with your request, gojo. you should've asked another woman, i'm a busy person too you know?" shoko said. 
"fuck, i want to kill that bastard." 
"why did even walked out that way? she got sad, i saw it." satoru gulped the whole glass in his mouth as he slammed it on the table.
"satoru, we should carry out the plan now. this is the only chance." 
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"i don't want this, satoru." you said as you walked close to him. "say something please, why? what happened? did you- did you find someone?" you asked, looking down at the ground as if you were ashamed of your question.
"i don't need you anymore," i still do, i'm sorry.
god, no one knew how much he wanted to wipe those tears in your cheek, he wanted to take everything back, but he knew he couldn't. 
satoru cursed himself as he watched you leave, clutching the ring close to his chest.
-
you were calling him continuously and satoru couldn't have the right time to answer it. his father saw it and forced him to block your number.
just like you, satoru didn't want the divorce, but his father forced him saying that your family wasn't a help to their business.
satoru doesn't give a single fuck about the business, he wanted you, not the money.
satoru couldn't stop thinking of you for the past months after the divorce.
you told him your situation in your home, how your parents abused you as a kid. you told him you don't want to go back there anymore and satoru, he promised that he wouldn't let that happen again, but who knows what is happening inside your so-called home now that you were separated.
satoru threw every thing he could reach across his room. he didn't care if some of it were glass, but then he stopped when he get a hold of a frame. it was you and him on your wedding day.
he still remembered how awkward you acted that day.
"fuck, i miss you so much.. my love. i'm sorry." he mumbled, caressing your face in the picture as a tear left his eyes.
-
"suguru, you have a house in new york, right?"
"satoru, what crazy plan are you having in your head right now." suguru joked but noticed that his best friend was being serious. "what's up?" he asked.
"i'll buy it."
"what? why?"
"i'll- we'll run away."
"are you insane?"
"if it's for my wife, i am."
"satoru-"
"suguru, you won't get involved, i promise."
"it's not about that satoru, i'm worried for you and (name)."
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"satoru, we'll meet at the parking lot. remember, don't let anyone see you." shoko said.
"i owe you and suguru, shoko." satoru said as shoko rolled her eyes.
"that's what friends do right? now go, i'll get your woman."
-
"hi!" shoko said as he sit beside you. she looked around, your husband looked busy talking with other businessmen.
"hi.. you're satoru's friend right?" you said. shoko was thankful you still remembered.
"i am. do you want to get some fresh air?" shoko suggested and you were hesitant at first before coming with her.
-
"where are we going?" you asked but she ignored you as he continued to pull you with her.
"sho-" you were cut off, there he was, standing infront of you.
you looked around and shoko wasn't there anymore.
"w-what? what are you-"
"(name)." satoru called as he held your hand but you were fast to retract it.
"don't-" you said as you took a step back.
"i'm here to take you back, (name)." satoru said, trying to reach you only for you to step back again.
"no, you can't.. you can't, he'll be mad!" you said and satoru's heart ached. "he'll hurt you, satoru!"
"he can't do that, come (name), let's run away." satoru said, finally embracing you.
"satoru, it's too late." you mumbled, tears gathering in your eyes. "i'm already married.."
"let's run away." he repeated. "i'm sorry, it took me a long time to get you, i was planning everything out." he said as he cupped your cheeks, your tears stopping at his thumb.
"but you said you don't need me anymore." your voice cracked and satoru hates himself for saying that.
"i'm sorry, i didn't mean it, i swear." satoru said as he brushed your hair with his fingers.
"really?" he nods as he leaned his forehead on yours.
"i love you, and i need you. let's run away, hm?"
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"satoru, they will still look for us." you said as satoru tucked you on his arms.
satoru knew that, but for now, he'll indulge in this moment with you. he used one of their private jets to fly to another country.
"then we'll run away again. i have connections."
"what if they hurt us?"
"i will protect you."
"ok, i trust you."
"what happened here?" satoru asked as he saw the scars on your wrist.
"it's nothing."
"he's hurting you, huh?"
"no. satoru let's not talk about him, please?" you said as satoru's eyes shifted from your lips.
he gave it a peck as you tried to chase it when he pulled away.
you cupped his cheeks and forced him to kiss you as he deepened it.
satoru held you by your shoulders as he cornered you on your seat.
he pulled away as he cursed. he missed this, the taste of your lips.
"did he touch you?" satoru asked and you only kept quiet.
"i thought about you.." you murmured shyly.
"is that so? did he make you feel good?"
"no, only you can!" you exclaimed as he chuckled.
"don't you think they'll let us be together once i gave you a child?"
604 notes · View notes
charcoallbaby · 21 days
Text
professor sturniolo
smutttt everyone is 18+ nothing is underage.
my longest work yet! watched millers girls and got inspired, enjoy ! ending is petty hehe ^_^
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do you ever wish you could have someone you know you can’t have? especially your married professor.
well that was me two months ago
i placed my books down onto my desk infront of me. the class was empty other than me, two quiet students sitting at the back and the professor of course. he had his back to us, writing the subject of todays class onto the chalk board. i studied his broad shoulder that flexed underneath his thin shirt.
i looked down at my blank phone screen. a notification quickly popped up. it was my mom.
mom💝
me and your sister are going out before you come home, we’ll be home late. make sure no drinking when i’m not home !!
“good morning everyone!” the professor spoke.
i quickly locked my phone before looking up. “well to the 3 people here,” he cleared his throat then leaned against his desk. he scanned his eyes around the room looking at us. his eyes met mine. i could feel my stomach drop. “while we’re waiting for everyone else would you like to introduce yourselves?” he crossed his arms. his eyes were still directly on mine. i looked down at my phone, reminding me of my mothers text. i rolled my eyes. she always has some excuse to not be home.
“you!” the professor called out. i quickly looked up. “me?” i pointed my finger on my chest. he nodded his head. “im y/n,” “y/n y/l/n.” my voice was shaky. “nice to meet you ms y/l/n,” he gave me a small smile. i gave him one back.
he was about to speak before he got interrupted by students piling into the room. “ah!” “you guys decided to join us,” “i’m mr sturniolo.”
he passed papers around the room. he was standing above me. i looked up at him before he placed my paper on the desk. he stared down at the books placed infront of me. “that’s a good one,” he pointed at my current read. i looked down at his hand especially a ring. fuck he’s married.
the book was was the virgin suicides.
“have you watched the film?” the words spilled from my mouth. “yeah i have actually, great movie too.” he gave me a smile before walking back to his desk.
“the paper i gave you is very important, so keep it close to you, if you lose it i sadly cannot replace so please do me and favour and don’t lose it,” someone raised their hand. “claire was it?” she nodded her head. “why can’t you replace a piece of paper?” she laughed. “something about the usage of paper, listen i have no idea, it’s a policy here,” his eyes quickly scanned to mine. he turned around and broke it. “now t-” he was cut off by the loud door opening. “sorry!” my best friend ivy smiled and rushed to sit beside me. “it’s fine, just don’t be late next time.”
“he’s so fucking fine,” ivy whispered into my ear. i turned and looked at her. i shook my head. “are we looking at the same person up there?” she looked at mr sturniolo. his back was to us. “look at his back,” she wined. “i would eat that up!” she licked her teeth. i rolled my eyes. “he’s like ten years older than us,” i placed my pen between my teeth. “what age are you?” “you look very young for a professor!” ivy spoke out. the whole class erupted into laughter. i face planted my head onto my desk. he cleared his throat. “that’s very inappropriate question to ask….” “ivy!” she spoke. “well ivy that’s a very inappropriate question to ask your professor but i’m 29 and im guessing you all are what 20, 21?” “im not that old.” i finally lifted my head. “good to know thanks!” ivy smiled.
class finally ended. people were packing up their belongings. mr sturniolo made his way towards us.
fuck.fuck.fuck.
he looked at me before looking at ivy. “ivy can i speak to you?” he asked. “sure!” she zipped her bag up. “i’ll leave you guys sorry.” i stood up. “no need,” he fidgeted with his watch strap. i nodded my head. “don’t be late and please don’t make comments or questions like that anymore please ivy?” “i don’t wanna be the asshole teacher, can you do that for me?” i looked down at his hands again.
“sure, sorry.” she gave him a awkward laugh.
“great, see you guys tomorrow!”
it’s been a couple of days. i catch mr sturniolo staring at me every once in awhile, but im in the one who started staring first, so he’s just innocently staring back.
i was the first one in class. i internally sighed and found myself to my seat.
“morning ms y/l/n,” mr sturniolo turned around from the chalk board. “morning mr sturniolo,” i took my books out of my bags. “did you anything nice this weekend?” he asked. “um, went to a party wasn’t that fun though i went home after awhile, i hate going out,” i twisted the ring on my right index finger. “its been awhile since i’ve been to a college party, they usually aren’t that good aren’t they?” he let out a chuckle. “no not really, especially the boys,” i looked down at my lap. “one day they’ll realise they’re idiots don’t worry,” i looked up at him. “let’s hope!” the classroom door opened making us both look at it.
“y/n talk to me please,” my ex friends with benefits/situationship chase walked up to me.
“what the fuck?!” i exclaimed. “why are you coming to my classes chase?” “please, i need you so bad,” he whined. i let out a shocked laugh. “okay buddy that’s enough,” mr sturniolo stood in front of him. “professor please!” “no, out of my class!” “but!” “your harrasing one of my students leave now!” he pointed the door. chase growled and sped out of the room.
the class was now starting to fill up. he leaned down on my desk. “you okay?” his eyes met mine. i nodded my head. “i know it’s none of my business but see me after your classes today okay?” “okay.” i said softly.
i stood beside mr sturniolo’s desk while waiting for him.
the door opened, he hurried in.
“sorry y/n!” that’s the first he called me by my name which made me feel a way i know i shouldn’t have liked.
“it’s okay,” i licked my lips. “anyway i just wanted to ask if you want me to report that guy who came in earlier?” he titled his head while looking at me. i swore i tried to hold in a whimper. i looked down at the ground. “no, it’s okay thank you though,” i gave him smile. “you sure?” i nodded my head.
“yes he’s just some loser he’ll get the message soon.” “ex boyfriend?” he asked.
i wasn’t an expert but i knew he shouldn’t be asking me that, but i didnt mind.
“no……” “something worse you can probably imagine what i’m talking about,” i gave him a straight lined smile. “ah yes i can!” his cheeks quickly heated up. “i’ll see you tomorrow mr sturniolo.” “have a good day!”
i got home and layed down onto my bed, looking up at the ceiling thinking about the day.
especially mr sturniolo. his broad shoulders and his long fingers. i closed my eyes. having a wild imagantion was a blessing in disguise.
i slowly moved my hands down under my jeans, unbuttoning them and discarding them somewhere in my room. i slid my hand under my panties, i was soaking because the thought of him. holy fuck this was so wrong. he was my professor. he was a married man.
i slid my middle finger inside of me. i let a desperate moan.
“look at you,” “your in such a mess underneath me y/n." i picked up the pace, adding a second finger while imagining them words coming from his mouth.
his pretty pink lips eating me up as i grab onto his hair and watch his broad back clench.
it didn’t take me long to clench around my finger and shiver. i took a deep breath, trying to get my breathing back to normal. god i’m fucked up, i needed severe help.
i got to class, it wasn’t empty which i was definitely thankful for.
“morning ms y/l/n,” mr sturniolo spoke. “morning.” i muttered for a response. ivy was already sitting in the seat beside me. she finally didn’t skip.
“i didn’t get a morning,” she frowned. i rolled my eyes and took my seat beside her. “he’s just being nice,” i stated. “yeah sure, he stares at you like your a piece of candy waiting to be eaten,” she looked down at her nails. “what?” my mouth suddenly got dry. “he wants to fuck you bad, i can tell!” the glimmer in her eyes shined. i shrugged my shoulders. “i don’t think so,” “of course you don’t, you think no one wants you when your hot,” “he doesn’t want me.” i tapped my finger off the top of her nose. she smiled at me. “denial, denial, denial.”
i couldn’t concentrate in class after ivy’s comment and the fact that mr sturniolo wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. i shouldn’t care, but i do.
“mr sturniolo!” ivy exclaimed as people started to leave the class. “yes?” he looked at ivy. “ms y/l/n here is having problems with her paper!” ivy shot up. “oh you are y/n?” mr sturniolo asked. “i-” ivy cut me off. “sorry i have to go, my next class is on the other side of campus!” she scurried out.
“what’s the issue with your paper?” mr sturniolo stood behind me looking down at my work. “mr sturniolo-“ “you can call me matt,” he spoke. i nodded my head. “matt,” i cleared my throat. “i know im not a writer, but i feel like i have writers block, i have no idea to write about” “there’s nothing that comes to my mind,” i looked up at him. he was staring down at me. he looked so yummy oh my. “well, you want ideas?” he stood up straight. i nodded my head. “something you fantasise about, could be a dream job, something you wish could happen but you know it can’t, it could be a person,” he licked his dry lips. i gulped. “so you want me to write about something i wish i could have?” “i have to write about a fantasy world, a world i wish i could live in?” i asked. “that could work,” he rubbed his jaw. “okay thank you!” i gave him a small smile. “of course, just email me if you need any help.” he nodded his head. “definitely.”
“i’m jealoussssss!!!!” ivy put her head back and groaned. “you realise you have to fuck him now?” she sat back up and sipped her drink. “how?!” “i’ll just walk up to him after class and ask him to fuck me?” “yes!” ivy yelled. i laughed and shook my head. “listen, i’ll do the dirty work for you,” “which is?” i wondered. “i’ll be nosey in class and ask him does he have any plans for the weekend and if he gives us an answer, boom we show up there!” she smiled. “will this work?” “oh yes.”
“oh i didn’t realise you came here weekly ms sturniolo!” ivy exclaimed. “did you follow me here?” he asked looking me up and down. “no we’re here with some friends you know chase right?” she asked. “yeah i do,” he sipped his drink. “i’ll see you soon mr sturniolo.” ivy ran off as she always does.
“you look nice,” matt spoke. “you too matt,” i gave him a smile. “why are you here alone on a friday night?” i leaned against the bar. “i don’t know either y/n, i probably should be correcting papers but i’d rather be drinking my sorrows away!” he finished his glass. “i get you, i hate correcting papers on a friday night too,” i joked. he laughed. “you wanna go outside for a cigarette?” i asked. “i don’t smoke, but sure.” he grabbed his jacket.
he followed me outside. i put the cigarette between my lips, lighting it and slowly inhaling. i passed him the cigarette. he gladly took it and placed it between his lips. “thought you don’t smoke?” i turned to him. “thought you didn’t like going out?” he raised an eyebrow at me. “fair point,” i took it from his fingers. “your way too mature and way too much of a perfectionist for my class you do realise that don’t you?” matt leaned his head against the wall beside us. i smiled. “totally not true,” “i bet you have an apartment that’s perfect, i bet everything is planned out,” matt smiled. “i wish, my controlling mother told me that i still have to live with her while im in college, she says she wants to keep an eye on me but she just doesn’t want to me to turn into a drunk just like her,” i passed him the cigarette. “your not that type of girl from what can i see for the outside,” smoke exited his mouth. “and what can you see for the outside matt?” i looked up at him. he dropped the cigarette “a smart, smart girl,” his warm hand met my waist. “oh really?” i tried to contain myself. “mhm.” he mumbled while leaning down.
his soft warm lips met mine, it was better than i would imagined. i hungrily kissed him back, my hands wrapping around his neck. he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth making me feel dizzy. “you wanna go somewhere?” he asked. i quickly nodded my head.
we ended up at an hotel.
matt pressed the key card against the reader. the door beeped, matt pushed the door opened.
“sorry it’s a bit messy, i just got here last night,” matt stated. “why are you here?” i let slip out. “i caught my wife cheating on me again,” he sighed before shutting the drapes. “again?” i wondered. “yeah i caught her awhile back, i forgave her but i fell out of love with her a long time ago,” he cleared his throat and placed himself down onto the bed. “im sorry.” i bit my lip. “it’s good, c’mere,” he put his hand out.
i walked over to him and took it. he smiled up at me. his hand met my inner thighs, making me glad that i picked out a mini dress. "no panties?” matt growled. i gulped. he pressed his thumb to my clit. i whined. he looked down at his hand while slipping his fingers inside of me. a small moan came from my mouth. he moved his fingers inside of me. “matt.” i whined as he worked fingers deeper inside of me. he leaned his forehead against my stomach. “i wish you weren’t this wet, i would of loved to work for it.” his voice was deep. my eyes rolled onto the back of my head.
dirty talk never did it for me usually, but i never wanted matt to stop talking.
i grabbed onto matt’s hair. “there it is, it’s right there isn’t it?” he panted. “mhm,” i mumbled as he pounded his fingers into me, hitting my g-spot. “keep going,” “i’m not stopping until you finish all over my fingers baby,” his pace slowed down suddenly, i was confused. he took his fingers out, licked them and put his head between my legs. “lay down, so i really taste you.” i quickly followed his order and layed myself down.
matt laced his fingers up and down my wet my folds. “i bet you taste sweet do you?” his eyes looked dark. “i-i don’t know,” i whined. “taste yourself then,” he put his fingers infront of my mouth. i took his fingers into my mouth and licked them clean. “you do taste so sweet,” he dipped his head low between my legs. his warm tongue met my folds. he came back up. “you want me to ruin you?” i nodded my head. “i need a answer princess,” he took his shirt off. “yes, yes.” i breathed out. “let me eat you up first.”
he was roughly eating me out like he couldn’t get enough of me. my legs were wrapped around his shoulders, his hands were gripping my thighs.
matt made me come with his mouth, which has never happened before especially with a man.
“your so wet and silky,” his tip met my folds. a quiet moan came from my mouth. he pounded into me. his hand was hovering over me grabbing onto the headboard, he was making the whole bed shake. but i had always had a feeling he liked fucking girls rough.
i was dreading class after friday. matt fucked me until the sun came up, god it was a come fest.
me and ivy found our seats, i stayed quiet, he didn’t say hi to me which he does most mornings but he fucked me all night on friday so i guess he’s done with the hi’s now.
“morning everyone,” he rubbed his hands together.
he had his ring on. i looked at ivy who was too busy looking at her nails. “ivy,” i whispered. “yeah?” she looked up at me. “he’s wearing his ring,” i gulped. she didn’t answer but only looked at matt.
“this saturday me and my wife went on a little trip so i haven’t corrected any papers that were handed in yet, but you’ll get them by this friday i promise.” he spoke. me and ivy quickly made eye contact. “wife?” “i thought she cheated?” she whispered. “well apparently he’s back with her, he got back with her the last time.” i sighed.
“what is so interesting girls?” matt interrupted us. “oh nothing, just talking about boys you know how it is mr sturniolo!” ivy winked. he let out a heavy sigh. “alright guys topic for today is on the board,” “ms y/l/n, could i speak to you outside?” i froze. “yeah sure.”
i followed him outside. this is the day i die.
he closed the door after me. “what?” i crossed my arms. “i dont need your attitude,” he snapped. “did your wife cheat on you because you have angry issues or are you guys back together now?” i titled my head. “actually!” “i couldn’t care less,” i smiled. “i wanted to say me and my wife are fine, i love her and friday was a mistake i wasn’t in the right head space when i found her and some guy in our bed,” he sighed. “don’t trauma dump on me, i couldn’t not give a fuck about you and your wife, but if you love her so much did she know you were pounding inside of a 21 year olds pussy on the weekend huh?” “be quiet!” matt whispered. “fuck you.” i opened the door to the classroom.
“ivy let’s go get your bag,” i stated. “what?” she said confused “we’re leaving this assholes class room.” the whole room was staring at this point.
matt walked back in flustered.
“just to let everyone know, this man right here, your teacher, indulges in sex with college girls!” i yelled and left the room. “he also has a tiny dick!” i yelled before the door shut.
“is it actually?” ivy asked. “no it’s huge but i can’t let people know that.”
hi! this ending is kinda silly <3333
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henderdads · 9 months
Text
Steve stopped caring about Father’s Day a long time ago. That’s what happens when your dad is an asshole and gone 95% of the time. You kinda just stop trying and caring.
Whenever the holiday comes around, it just reminds him of how everyone in his life has a loving father figure except for him and he turns bitter.
This year is no different. Robin is following him around Family Video telling him her family’s plans for the holiday weekend, asking him what she should get her dad.
“Uh… socks? I don’t know.”
Robin laughs. “Steve that’s like the most generic dad gift ever.”
“Sorry, I’m not good at the dad stuff Robbie.”
“Shit. You know I didn’t mean it like that Dingus.”
He turns and smiles. “I know. There’s no offense taken either and I’m sure whatever you decide to get him he’ll love.”
“You know you could probably come over and celebrate with us.”
Steve shrugs. “It’s your family’s day, I don’t wanna intrude.”
Robin smiles. “Well if you change your mind, my parents adore you.”
-
After work, Steve goes to the trailer to hang out with Eddie.
Eddie never talks about his dad either. But he doesn’t have to because Wayne’s there, and he’ll talk about Wayne.
As they sit on top of the trailer, passing a cigarette back and forth, Eddie breathes out the smoke and turns to Steve.
“Doin’ anything for Father’s Day?”
Steve takes a pull himself and passes it back to Eddie.
“Nah. My parents are still out of town and I haven’t done anything for the day since I was ten.”
Eddie hums in response. “Come have dinner with me and Wayne.”
Steve is quick to protest. “I wouldn’t wanna intrude.”
“Oh, please. If we weren’t dating he’d already have the adoption papers filled out.” Eddie scoffs.
Steve raises his hands up in a surrendering gesture and laughs. “Okay, I’ll come over then. Jesus Christ.”
Eddie laughs along with Steve, eyes glistening as he looks at him fondly.
“I’m serious though. Wayne thinks of you as one of his own. Always asking me about you. Making sure you’re okay. He’d want you there.”
Steve bites back a smile. “That’s… that’s really nice.”
Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and takes it in his gently, kissing the back of it. “You’re part of our family now Stevie.”
“Hmmm… Steve Munson does have a nice ring to it.”
Eddie beams at him. “One day, I’m gonna marry the hell out of you and it’ll be official.”
“Not if I marry the hell out of you first.” Steve leans in, pressing his lips to Eddie’s gently, enjoying the taste and smell of tobacco.
Being a Munson doesn’t seem like a bad thing at all.
-
Sunday rolls around sooner than later, and Steve and Eddie wake up together as usual, getting to work on preparing Wayne’s favorite meal.
Eddie is adamant about Wayne being lazy all day, insisting that he and Steve have everything under control.
The day is enjoyable. Steve and Wayne watch a game together and Eddie and Wayne both pull out their guitars, the three of them sitting around the living room as Eddie and Wayne jam out together, Steve watching fondly, insisting that he can’t sing.
With some persistence, Steve does eventually join in and they end in a group hug, all of them laughing and enjoying their time together.
As they sit around the small dining table, Steve gets it.
He gets what it’s like to have someone to look up to. Someone who loves you unconditionally.
He sees it in the way Wayne looks at Eddie, so full of love for his boy.
And he realizes he has that too when Wayne smiles at him with that same fond look.
Steve gives Wayne a hug of his own with a promise of a fishing trip.
“Happy Father’s Day, Wayne.”
“Thanks kiddo. You’re always welcome here.”
Steve smiles as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, eventually wrapping his arm around Eddie’s waist.
“I know.”
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junipers-archive · 1 year
Text
Paper Rings
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Word count: 1.1k
Includes: tiny itty bit of angst to fluff, fluff, fluff, Spencer has been acting distant so you try to start up a conversation, ultimately leading to his confession about wanting to marry you but never finding the right moment
You were worried. More than usual worried, worried. Spencer had been acting odd lately, and for the past few weeks you had been trying your best to ignore it.
It was hard though, he had been distant, almost neglectful, his once cheerful and atentative attitude when listening to your day or the new book you'd been reading gone and replaced by a cool indifrence.
You were near to him now, sitting on the sunflower yellow sofa in your apartment, reading different books. But instead of being next to you he was on the other side of the couch.
In an attempt to start up a conversation you mentioned one of your fresher pieces of news,
"Hey Spence", He didn't even look up, just hummed.
You scooted closer, "Uh- I- Well you know my cousin? Marion, the one who got engaged a few months back?"
"yea" his eyes shifted up quickly and then right back down to his book.
"Well they finally set a date! I got my invite in the mail yesterday morning, it's in Hawaii!!"
"Oh, really?" he wasn't even glancing up now to seem interested.
Nevertheless, you tried one last time with enthusiasm, hoping he'd be kind enough to take pity and reciprocate even a fraction of it.
"So whadaya say handsome, be my plus one?"
"mhm." mhm. That's what your relationship had dwindled down to?
You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes as you got up from the sofa, trying really hard not to cry. But there was only so much you could take, was he seeing someone else? What had you done to make him so upset?
But that was the thing he wasn't even yelling at you! You'd become an irrelevant part of his life without even realizing it.
By this time you were grabbing your things in a scramble, trying to get out, get out of the apartmentget, get out of his life if thats what he really wanted. When it occurred to you that he was still obsorbed in that stupid book of his.
And you had to know, You just had to.
"Did I do something?! What-Just tell me what I did Spencer please!"
You were standing before him now, waving your arms around manically.
"Y-Y/n, whats wrong?"
"I don't know Spencer you tell me! I mean first I thought it was a case you were on that had put you off, or maybe that we'd been apart for too long but weeks went by! Its been weeks and you still won't even look me in the eye when we're talking!" You fail in your previous attempts to keep the tears at bay as droplets fall down your flushed cheeks.
He was stunned but eventually he found his words, "I-I- that wasn't my intention, I- just- I-"
You were hysterical at this point, he couldn't even tell you?
"Look Spencer. If you wanna break up, just say it already!"
You were one second away from storming out when he spoke up again, catching you by the wrist and leading you down the hall to the bedroom quickly.
"Look I'm really, really sorry Y/n its just that- well it'd be easier if I just showed you."
You came to sit on the bed, arms crossed over your chest as if armor protecting you from being hurt.
He was searching through the back of the closet you shared, finally pulling out a shoe box. He sat down next to you, opening the box, where rested an old sweater of his that had been worn thin and a black velvet box sitting within.
He handed the small compartment over to you explaining frantically,
"I've wanted to marry you for a long time now, hell Y/n I wanted to marry you since the moment I met you. But I kept chickening out and for the past few weeks I've taken you to our spots to pop the question but I-I- nothing was ever good enough...I couldn't find the perfect moment."
he looked straight in your eyes now, which were watery, overwhelmed by the idea he wanted to marry you just as much as you wanted to marry him. "You deserve the perfect moment. And not being able to provide that to you, it tore me apart, so...I became distant, praying I was good enough but also hoping you's find someone better..."
"I-I understand completely that this isn't the time or place but when I saw that you were crying- I just I needed you to know that the reason I was being so distant wasn't because I wanted to break up, far from it! I want to spend the rest of my life with you!"
You opened the box now, silently falling in love even more as you gazed down at the your dream ring.
Finally lifting your gaze to the boy in front of you and kissing him deeply, finding your voice again as you pulled back grinning,
"You're an idiotic-genius, you know that?"
He only grinned back, "Yea, yea I'm fairly aware."
You slipped on the ring, it was perfect fit.
"Well...Are you gonna ask me?"
He shook his head, "You're gonna have to wait till i find our perfect moment."
You grumbled like a digruntled child, leaping back on the bed and guarding your ring finger as he tried to take it back. Ultimately he ended up on top of you, both of you play wrestling like children.
"Y/n. Give. It. Back."
"NO its my ring now! You can't take it back! You practically already proposed!"
"You said yourself, I technically haven't asked!"
"Well why don't I keep it for now, just until you're ready?" You were wearing a shit-eating grin as you looked up at him, he had pinned you down with his hands on your wrists.
"No way. What Would I propose with then?"
You craned your neck to kiss him then, albeit akwardly. "I'd marry you with paper rings Dr. Reid."
He had gotten admittedly lost in your sweet words, which you used as your opprutunity to slide out from under him, once more flashing you giant grin before running out of the room.
"Y/N!"
The afternoon was lost to him chasing you around the apartment as you chanted, "Paper rings dr. Reid! Paper rings!"
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natdu · 11 months
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Hi! I don't know if you are still taking requests, but if it's so, can we please get an Atsumu x reader one shot, specifically, a one shot where Atsumu is scared of commitment, and reader just wants to get married, and due to Atsumu's fear of commitment, she wants to break up. Then he regrets later and tries to win back reader, realising that deep in his heart, he cannot live without her.
I'll leave the ending to you^^!
Hiiii I'm still taking them yes!
Anon? Anon? Did ya get on my brain or something? Hooooly moly this plot is so good let me kiss your mind smooch~
Pairing: Timeskip! Atsumu x Fem reader
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort
Warnings & content: grammar - Atsumu has an avoidant/anxious attachment style lol - overthinker reader- petnames - Reader owns 2 cats - Sometimes it's not about the screams, it's about what your words mean
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He used to get into problems because of his "Big mouth" (Osamu's words, not his)
Being harsh on someone from the team "whatever"
Lying on Aran's or Samu's face (usually little things tho, like pudding)
Or right now, when after his girlfriend of 2 years showed him a video of a wedding dance and he dismissed it as:
"A pretentious celebration, don' understan' whats the fret about it"
"Well we are not dancers but still it is fun, don't you think Tsumu?"
"Ah 'm talkin' 'bout the wedding"
A needle falling could be heard after that butch of information
"Uh what?"
He just looked at you with an almost bored expression
"I'm not cut for that pretty, all that married lifestyle an' stuff 's just..... Boring fer me"
Your mood obviously shifted drastically. Of course, you weren't expecting that the man you love with all your heart and soul would overrule something you showed interest in such a cold way
"So what you are saying is..... You don't wanna marry me?"
He shifted his gaze from his phone to your face, cringing a little at your pretty obvious disgruntled expression
"We don't know what will happen tomorrow doll we jus' better enjoy our time now"
The shock travelling through your body made you shiver.
"'m jus' sayin'... Ya kinda lose some freedom when ya get married. It's complicated"
You opened your mouth but there was no sound going out of it. You really really didn't expect the evening to turn like this
Then there was set an uncomfortable silence
"Angel?"
"I'm sleepy Tsumu, goodnight"
The bed felt colder even when an hour later he joined you to bed. His arm circling your waist not representing the same love you thought about
The next morning he left with a kiss onto your forehead, an "I love you" and a promise to come back for dinner
It was a custom at this point in your relationship, but this time it felt fake
Why was he still with you if there was no prospect of the future?
Was wanting a wedding too much? Did he plan on to leave you at some point of your life?
The dampness in the pillow signaled you to get up and get ready for the day
For some people it would be dumb or insignificant. A wedding only being a legal paper, a contract, a figure, something done out of selfishness to secure an income or stuff like that
But for you, it was almost your dream since you were little. Glimpses of white, with little brown and gold details, maybe your pet as the ring bearer, and your future husband in all his glory smiling or even crying at the sight of you, like a princess out of a fairy tale. Vows evoking eternal love, promises of care and devotion. A signal of how much you loved that person.
Now that image was not going to be filled with Atsumu's figure nor your cats.
The pang on your chest made your eyes fill with tears again. You had never thought Atsumu would have such an strong opinion about marriage, to think that you two were not on the same page pained you to the brim to the point you had to sit down
You wanted to be selfless, you did. But what would possibly be holding him back that much? Wouldn't he even agree to a civil wedding?
"(...) all that married lifestyle an' stuff 's just….. Boring fer me"
It wouldn't be a lot more different to what you had now... Did that mean that he was bored now?
"Ya kinda lose some freedom when ya get married"
Were you that type of girlfriend tho? A controlling one? No, you were sure about that, so what type of freedom was he talking about?
Your thoughts weren't taking you anywhere, but you were sure about something
You didn't have a future with Atsumu
Meanwhile, on the MSBY's gym, a very restless Atsumu was trying his best to not let his personal life affect his work
But how could he not? When you, the girl he loved so much it hurt, asked for marriage
It's not like he despised the celebration itself, but to him it meant a big step he wasn't ready to take. No now, probably never
Why would you want to change what you had until now? The fact that you seemed so hopeful about it pulled the strings on his heart.
If he was honest with himself he kind of knew this conversation was to come soon. You were watching even more romantic shows that involved characters with healty depictions of marriage instead of the usual comic gag
Or sometimes caressing his ring finger
Still, he wasn't ready. So he hoped he could work things out, you always found the way to do it and while he was terrified of the long term feeling, he just knew he loved you and that was enough
Or so he said to himself
"I know you have a loud mouth but you could have word it in another way Miya"
"I panicked Omi ok?!"
Of course Sakusa noticed the change on his team mate and Atsumu felt he had to talk about it to someone. The raven haired man being his best option so he let all the story out
Sakusa sighed and finished packing his stuff
"I'm just saying Miya, usually this type of disagreements don't end fine"
"Are ya trying to cheer me up or make me feel like garbage?"
"Your words, not mine"
Atsumu could only look at his friend with a mix of a frown and a pout
"I'm surely not the one to tell you this but.... What are you so afraid of?" And like that, the curly man went out of his sight
Atsumu was left sitting on a bench fiddling with his fingers, wondering and thinking about it
While his parents marriage ended in divorce it didn't end bad, they actually did a good job Co parenting the twins.
His dad had shared that they simply felt out of love after so many years, so there was this lingering fear of "Maybe things aren't meant to be forever even if they are really good" What if that happened to him too?
He was sured he loved you, the butterflies in his tummy and the lovesick glances he pulled everytime you looked at his direction were proof of it.
But, what if?
He wanted to be happy as long as life could let him be
He sighed once again this time against your shared apartment, a weak smile forming into his lips watching the "welcome" cloud shaped rug you had insisted to buy the last trip to the supermarket
His nerves were eating his heart out but he knew it wouldn't be intelligent to run away to Osamu just like he did whe he was little. He wanted to properly apologise and show you clearly his fears (maybe he should start going to that therapy Bokuto was talking the other day)
"Angel I'm home!"
Total silence
Huh? That was weird? You always had music even if you were working in your laptop
Maybe you were taking a nap, sure
"Doll?"
He almost got a heart attack when he opened the door of your bedroom and found you siting on the edge of the bed
"Jesus Christ baby! Ya were as quite as a mouse oh my God"
While he clutched his shirt over his chest he noticed you hadn't answered to him. Worried he looked at you and man, he swore his heart skipped a beat
You were wearing your prettiest clothes, something you only wore in his or your birthdays. Something reserved to memorable occasions
But your composure lacked that welcoming and prideful aura you would carry in that outfit. Your smile was rigid, your posture almost as if you weren't welcomed.
He cringed internally trying to decode your demeanor
"Baby yer scaring me...."
"I wanna go out today if that's OK with you?"
"Eh?"
Your voice, soft and gentle. But not like you talked to a frightened animal, no. It was the tone you used when you don't want to upset a beast
His heart wrenched in his chest. You had never spoke to him like that
"'Course I want ta, W-whats the occasion?"
He didn't like how thick the air was becoming. How it was like all of his senses were prepared for the worst
"Just because" You laughed softly and kinda dry
He tried looking at your eyes, but your glance moved from one thing of the room to another, evading him
"OK, I'll be ready in a minute, wait fer me"
When he cleaned and dressed himself up you went out. He tried holding your hand several times while walking, but you avoided it
His chest felt constricted and he tried and tried until you finally held his pinky with yours. But the touch was barely there and honestly? It was killing him
You dined at you both favourite restaurant. Not too fancy not too "family inn". And it was your place, a fact that was making him feel even worse
And it wasn't better for you, your apettie was in the floor and you ate for the sake of your stomach, not having the energy to eat anything at all through the day.
At the end, he knew something was definitely up when you skipped dessert. Your most favourite one only being made in this place. He had to do something and he had to do it now
He proceed to pay the bill against your wide opened eyes and took you out. This time holding your hand entirely with his, taking you back home
It was at the stairs you halted and he let go of your hand, missing its warm
"What's on yer mind doll, please...."
He looked back at you and his breath hitched when he saw your uncommon impassible face with big tears running down your cheeks
But what made it worse, and what made him dizzy was the sentence that went out of your now wobbling lips
"This is the night I'm letting you free 'Tsumu"
"W-what?" his own voice turning shaky and breathy
"I kinda wanted to be selfish and spend a last night with you"
You had to take a deep breath, hiccups making your speech a tad bit difficult to deliver
"I just wanted to be with you a last time"
Last
Last
"I love you Atsumu, but we don't.... We don't have the same goal, we don't have the same mindset" You smiled weakly at him while he just looked at you in shock
You could almost swear there were a bunch of tears forming on his eyes
"And it's ok really but... B-but" You couldn't help the whine that came out, your pain, sadness, and everything else being put on a silver plate for your lover to see
"I just can't do this if I know you won't love me same as I do"
"I LOVE YOU!"
You gasped and flinched at the sudden raise of his voice. But more than anger there was desperation and grief into it
"I love you so so much its insane and I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry"
He was almost full on wailing like a child, just like when they're taken away form their parents on the first school day
Or how he cried when his dad went out of the door
"I'm terrified ya know? Terrified that all of this we've been living is just meant to end and I just-"
He looked up trying to stop the tears, unsuccessfully
"I don't think weddings are dumb or that I would lose something. But I'm so so afraid of what will happen if we settle down"
You were surprised of yourself when you cradled him into your arms. His own circling your waist immediately and holding you as if you were to disappear at any second
"What if you go away someday? What if I go away? What if this is just some cruel destiny's game?!"
His mind was fuzzy, feeling that your departure was seconds away stirred his fight or flight response
If his time with you was meant to end he didn't want it to be now, the overcrushing feeling of losing you now was greater than his fear of compromise
Right now, he was convinced he needed you more than oxygen, more than the sun, more than his own life
"Tsumu"
"But Please stay, don't leave. I don't ever want to have last things with you. At this point I don't even care"
When he looked at your eyes you could sense all of his renowned devotion
"I hurt ya and you suffered because of that. I swear it won't happen again.... Promise..."
After several minutes you both could only try to control your shaky breaths, dry the remaining tears and hold each other
"Marry me...."
"What?"
He pulled away, giving you just enough space to see directly at him
"Marry me....not right now but I..... I can only think of how miserable our life's are without each other and why would I mess up all we've done, all we've lived over a fear I can work on....."
Your eyes watered once again
"I don't wanna impose-"
"Yer not imposing..... I decide I wanna do this"
The strength of his arms were finally giving you the confort they meant to be
"If yer willing to be with this.... Broken piece of man..... Please stay by ma side"
He held your face with delicacy, as if you were the most delicate gem
And for your delight, you now recognised your beloved stare
"I wanna give myself to ya, make ya happy"
"Cuz you're definitely worth the try"
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Not my brain fully functioning to do this instead of my grade paper
Writing angst for Tsumu is soooo satisfying as I said before. This was probably my fav rq until now (prob cuz I'm happy with the result)
Hope you like it! 💙
Natdu
2K notes · View notes
red-viewe · 9 months
Text
general lilia x reader thoughts 🔫 (part three 👌)
COLORED LETTERS IS FAE LANGUAGE, (tw swearing)
Part 2 part 1
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"Please pay attention to me, your grace~" a young lady says as she touches Lilia seductively, before he pushes her away and walks away, rolling his eyes.
'Ew.'
"C'mon, Duke! Look alive! You're the famous general, you should enjoy the fame!" A soldier playfuly shouts, as the party gets louder and louder.
The war has finally ended after 3 years, peace taking over both sides of the war. The borders are open, and many expected years of prosperity and peace.
'3 years since I've seen them, 3 years since I've felt their warmth.' Lilia sighs, massaging his temples.
'Just a few more days until i see them.
Just a few more days....'
----
"Y/n, my love and life, please take this ring and marry m-"
"Absolutely not." You slam the door, annoyed. It's been 3 years since Lilia left, and the war ended, meaning that men and women are coming back home to see their families, some looking to start one. As a hot asf, unmarried, somewhat financially stable person, you were expected to be popular among the marriage market in both women and men.
'Dude, i did not know i had this much game.' You thought, peeking out the window to see a line of people waiting at your door. 'WTF I DON'T KNOW HALF THESE PEOPLE. IT'S LITERALLY 3 IN THE MORNING. '
Sighing, you quickly pulled out a peice of paper, writing in bold, thick letters, 'NOT ACCEPTING MARRIAGE PROPOSALS' and stuck it onto the window.
'What if he forgot about me? Should i just give up on waiting?' Fuck no. Why would you do that to lilia?
'Genuinely fuck this shit.' You sighed, going back to sleep.
-----
'Knock knock knock'
'Ugh, dude i swear, if it's another suitor I'm moving.'
You slowly walk to the door, opening the door.
"I said no more suitors! Read the god damn sign!" You say, annoyed, looking up to see a man with long, black hair with red highlights. You slam the door, and go to walk back to your room.
'Wait.' You pause to think. (For once)
Long black hair with red- OMG YOU JUST SLAMED THE DOOR ON LILIA.
You rush back to the door, now fully awake and quickly open the door.
"LIlia!" You jump to hug the fae, his eyes widened at the sudden embrace.
"Beastie! I thought you forgot who i was. How mean of you to slam the door on your love." He hugs you back, pouting and nuzzling his face into your neck with warm cheeks.
"W-we don't talk about that..." You look away, embarrassed.
"Pft, it's quite alright, my love." He pulls you in for a soft, deep kiss. "So I hear you had many suitors, hmm? Planning to marry someone who's not me?" Lilia smirks, pulling away to cup your cheek.
"I swear i can explain-"
-----
"And thats how me and your mother/father met snd fell in love." Lilia giggles at the memory, "Ahh, young love." A young silver haired boy looks at his father, now filled with questions.
"But father, but isn't y/n a human? How can they live so l"ong? Also, what happened to all the suitors? And the bar?"
"Hmm, now now, silver, that's too complicated for your young mind to understand. I shall tell you when you are of age." Lilia smiles, as he rocks the boy to sleep.
"Everytime you tell that story, Silver always ends uo falling asleep." You walk in, taking Silver from Lilia's arms to transfer him to his spiderbat bed.
"It's our love story dear, I'll tell it again and again untill the whole world knows how we fell in love."
"You're lucky I love you, you cheeky bat." You pout, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.
"I love you too, beastie."
----
Authors notes :D
I THOUGHT I PUBLISHED THIS BEFORE GOING CAMPING IM SO SRRY
Also this is probably the end of the general lilia x read thoughts series, but I'll definitely be making more stories on other characters and lilia.
Also if you guys want side stories on this series lmk(Requests r always open btw GIMMIE UR IDEAS)
(Taggies: (SRRY IF UR TAG DIDNT WORK) @rainingdandelion @rincommittedarsin
@ayachansan @sugarkitty839 @oogly-oogly @rainbowcake1212 @kitsune25 @ninjalizards
@thi3u @nico707 @mistuna @otomyoli @syndyj @ftyaftya @secret-potion @cottage-clockwork @raaawwwr
837 notes · View notes
princessmisery666 · 1 month
Text
Just Say You Love Me
Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating. 
W/C: 4,901.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills. 
Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”
A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.
Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
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Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.
It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself. 
So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks? 
Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings. 
“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers. 
“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?” 
“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?” 
“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”
“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.
“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”
He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”
“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?” 
“What? No!”
Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”
“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.” 
“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”
Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”
“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.
Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.
Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it. 
“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.
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The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”
You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.
That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.
The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.
It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry. 
The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!” 
You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.
Asshole. How dare he judge you! 
“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares. 
You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”
Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.
“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.” 
You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.
“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy. 
Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”
“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation. 
“That’s the one.” 
“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”
You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her. 
“Thank you, Miss…” 
“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom. 
You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.” 
If only she knew. 
You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder. 
“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.” 
You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you. 
Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.
“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean. 
“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.  
“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?” 
He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”
“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.
His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.
You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?” 
“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.” 
“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.
The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them. 
“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”
“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”
“Probably, but that's his problem.”
Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.
“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.
That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”
“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”
You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with. 
“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?” 
“Girls versus boys?”
“Obviously.”
He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back. 
He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.” 
He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks. 
Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly. 
“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.
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The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.
You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer. 
You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.
“For what?” he asks. 
“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”
“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”
“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.” 
“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”
“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.” 
He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home. 
Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away. 
“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.
“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.” 
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.
“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking. 
He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.” 
“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.
He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.
The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared. 
Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.” 
“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”
He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.
He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure. 
He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”
You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?” 
“Only if you say yes?”
“Pick me up at ten.”
He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.
You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle. 
“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.
Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.
“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once. 
“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”
“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown. 
“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”
“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”
You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you. 
“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”
“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”
“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.” 
“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.” 
“We were going to get married.”
You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.
“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”
Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.
Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”
Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.
“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”
Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”
“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.
Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.
Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.
“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”
Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”
“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.” 
“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”
“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”
You grimace, “I’m sorry.”
He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.” 
He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”
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You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice. 
The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”
Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.
‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago. 
A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand. 
Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.
Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.
He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.
He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?
But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.
“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”
He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time. 
“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room. 
“I did it already,” he calls after you. 
“I’ll put it in the dryer then.” 
He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.
“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.” 
You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress. 
“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile. 
“Say what?” 
He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”
“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….” 
“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”
You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.” 
He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.” 
You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.” 
“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him. 
“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.” 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”
“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”
“I get why you’re…”
The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.
He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.
The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself. 
He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.
At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.” 
You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.
Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.
He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”
The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass. 
“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”
You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.
You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”
Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity. 
“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.” 
“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.” 
He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”
You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”
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jswizzlewrites · 3 months
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Angstmas 2023: Day 22/25
22 - “Marry me” Modern!Azriel x Archeron!Sister Reader
Angstmas 2023
“Rhysand is marrying your sister,” Azriel states, as he sits beside you on the picnic blanket. Your eyes flicker up from the book you're reading to see Feyre, who despite being eighteen months younger than you, was basically your opposite. She stood under the flower arch Elain had painstakingly worked on this spring, holding hands with Rhysand. 
Elain twirled around them, throwing rose petals up in the air, while Nesta stood to the side with a sour expression on her face and a bouquet of wildflowers in her hands. Cassian was tugging on her braids as he whispered something to her. Mor clutched her own wildflowers and pretended to dab her eyes. 
You roll your eyes. Elain had been begging two of them to play pretend marriage so she could see her flower arch in action for weeks. “Shouldn’t you be over there? The Best Man or something?” you retort. 
“Elain was begging me to be the groom,” Azriel says. 
You raise an eyebrow. “You want to marry Feyre? She’s currently failing science with Mr. Smythe,” you retort. 
He chuckles, throwing his head back. “She has Mr. Smythe and she’s still failing? He practically grades just based on off completion,” he retorts. You nod, this was the constant argument you always had with Feyre. He leans back on his elbow, and you can feel the heat of his stare on you. 
“What?” you snap, not looking away from the book that you had been trying to and failing to read. 
“You didn’t make a comment about Elain begging me to be the groom,” he responds. 
You roll your eyes. “I am not sure you and Feyre are compatible, and you’d have to fight Rhysand for her hand in marriage,” you reply. 
He shakes his head. “I told her I’d only be the groom if she got you to be the bride,” he replies, and you turn to him quickly to see him holding out a ring pop in your direction. 
You scoff, shoving his hand away from you with a laugh. Azriel was normally the quiet type, you had thought he was mute at one point when you were first introduced to him in third grade because he had never spoken, but you two began to have more and more classes together and he had opened up to you. Now there was a comfortable, and sometimes even flirty, banter between the two of you. 
“I am not playing,” you reply, holding up the book in your hands. You had been staring at the same page for the last hour. You hated to admit that even before he came over here your gaze had shifted towards him too many times to count. 
“I am not playing,” he says back, bringing the ring pop back in front of you. “Just say yes, you’ll say yes one day anyways.” 
You roll your eyes, “Full of yourself, aren’t you?” you retort. 
Azriel grins. “That’s not a no,” he replies. You open your mouth and he sits up, shaking his head. He places the ring pop beside you. “Just think about it, you’d be the talk of the town if you show up to eighth grade with a highschool freshman fiancee.” 
You finger the plastic of the ring pop as you watch him jump up, moving back towards his friends where he yells that he objects. Mor gasps and pretends to faint as Rhysand turns to him with a grin before lunging in his direction. 
~*~
Someone calls your name and you look up from your textbook to see Azriel walking across the cafeteria towards you. “If I wasn’t in love with you already, this would have sealed the deal,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you. 
You laugh, sliding the textbook aside and reaching across. “Let me see,” you say, holding out your hand as he places the piece of paper in your hands. Your eyes widen and you look at him excitedly. “An A? Congratulations Az, looks like you’re getting that full ride.” 
“Marry me, please. Put me out of my misery,” he says, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out a ring pop. He slides it across the table towards you. 
You shake your head, you could feel the stares of the students around you. Azriel never acted like a popular kid, but being friends with Rhysand and Cassian as well as on the football team made him popular. His mysterious loner vibe didn’t help his case, it made people want to get close to him, to find out more. 
He hardly showed people the personality he had when he was with you, so him practically yelling to the whole school he wanted to marry you was unheard of. 
“So,” he says, nodding towards the ring pop and looking at you expectantly. “Marry me.” 
You shake your head, unwrapping the ring pop. “No, but I’ll take it as payment for staying up late helping you study.” you smile. You nod your head to the side where a few girls had moved closer to listen to your conversation. “Besides, I think your fan club would murder me if I took you off the market.” 
He doesn’t even glance in their direction, his eyes focused on you. “I am already off the market, have been since I first proposed to you three years ago,” he retorts. The bell rings, announcing the start of the next period. He stands up from his chair. “One day you’ll realize that it’s only ever been me, Archeron.” 
You laugh as you sling your backpack over your shoulder and follow him out of the cafeteria. Your heart breaking slightly, you had been in love with him for years but he only ever proposed to you. You watch as he turns the corner and a girl he had been partnered with for a few classes matches steps with him. You watch his eyes light up and how he chuckles at what she’s saying. 
You pause mid step as you watch them disappear, wondering if he actually meant all the promises he gave you about a future.
~*~
“I love you,” he whispers, against your ear, the loud beat of the music matching the beating of your heart. You freeze, as you pull away from him and look up at Azriel. His eyes were clouded and his lips twisted up into a grin. “I loveeeee you,” he sing-songs. 
You shake your head, pushing him away from you. “No you don’t,” you snap. It had been a few years since Azirel had declared his love for you, after he proposed to you in the cafeteria you had pulled away from him realizing you were falling harder than he was. You got a boyfriend and dated him until graduation just to not have to think about Azriel. 
You felt guilty about leading him on, you did the same thing that Azriel had done to you. 
You thought it was over, you wouldn’t have to deal with Azriel and his false declarations of love but then you got a full ride to the college he was already attending. He had taken you under his wing, showing you the best restaurants and bars to go too. He even invited you to a few parties where you had met his teammate, Grayson. 
Grayson had asked you out on a date, you said yes. Azriel hadn’t been happy about it. The two of you had fought about it and he had kept his distance for a few weeks until tonight, when you had shown up with Grayson to a party celebrating their win last weekend. 
Azriel looks hurt as he looks down at you. “Why would you say that?” he asks, his words blurring together. “I am always there for you. I’ve always been here for you.” 
You roll your eyes, looking down at your empty cup. You needed more alcohol in your system to deal with this conversation. “You only admit to me you like me if you’re proposing to me or drunk,” you snap, thinking back to his graduation party. Where Cassian and him had pregamed a little too hard and he was already tipsy. He had practically thrown himself on you, telling you how much you meant to him. How much he liked you. 
You had been dating your highschool boyfriend at the time, so you ignored him and Azriel never brought it up again. You figured he was too drunk to remember. 
His eyebrows furrow, “I wasn’t drunk when I proposed, I wasn’t even drunk that summer when I told you I liked you,” he says, his words coming out clearer. 
You blink up at him. “You’ve never even asked me out,” you retort, the alcohol fueling your anger. “It’s always just ‘marry me’ and then you run off with someone else.” 
“I didn’t realize you liked me back,” he says soberly. You shake your head, shoving him away from you as you try to step around him. He grabs your elbow, twisting you back to face him. “You like me back?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any clue. 
You open your mouth to reply, but you hear your name being called and turn to see Grayson waving you over. You turn back to Azriel who had let go of your elbow, his expression unreadable as he stares over at Grayson. “Right, you’re still dating him,” he states. 
You scoff, “If you actually like me, tell me when you’re sober,” you snap, before turning away from him and walking to Grayson. 
~*~
“Where is he?” you yell as you move down the hallway to where you saw Nesta and Cassian standing, their eyes red and glassy as they turn to look at you. Your heart races as you catch your breath, stopping in front of them. They look at you sadly. “Where is he?” 
Nesta points down the hall, “Room 312,” she says, her voice catching on a sob as Cassian pulls her into his chest. 
Those are happy tears, you whisper to yourself. He’s okay, you tell yourself as you move down the hall and slam into room 312. Your eyes blur as you take him in. His eyes closed and his face bruised, there's a tube coming out of his mouth and bandages wrapped around his torso. 
“No,” you cry out, taking a few shaky steps before collapsing onto the bed beside him. You take his hand in yours, flinching at the coldness. His hands were always warm. 
You had been waiting at the restaurant for him, you were celebrating your three year anniversary together. He had finally gotten his act together and asked you out to dinner in college. You had been sitting there, waiting for him, staring at the ring pop you had decided to pick up a few days prior. 
You could hear the crinkle of the plastic in your pocket with every move. Would you ever be able to tell him you wanted to marry him? Would you ever be able to walk down the aisle wearing white, to where Azriel would be waiting for you under the flower arch? 
“He’s brain dead.” 
You jump, turning to where Cassian was standing in the doorway. You swallow and turn back to Azriel. To where his chest was moving up and down. “The ventilator is breathing for him,” Cassian explains as if able to read your mind. “They don’t know if he’s an organ donor.” 
You choke on a sob, bring a hand up to cover your face. Cassian steps closer to you and places a hand on your shoulder. “You are his emergency contact, you have to make the decision,” he adds somberly. 
You sit frozen. Cassian moves beside you and extends his hand towards you. You glance down and see him holding out a little black box. You look at the box and then up at Cassian. “It was in his pocket when they brought him in,” he explains. 
You shakily take the box from Cassian, opening it up, silent sobs racking your body as you take in the engagement ring. It was beautiful, you thought to yourself as you pulled it out of the box and slipped it onto your finger. 
“He loved you so much, he always loved you. Since he met you in third grade,” Cassian says, before moving away from you. You hear the door shut, leaving you all alone in the room with the love of your life. You would never be able to tell you loved him ever again. 
You would never be able to see his eyes light up when he told a story or his laugh. 
You curl up beside Azriel, resting your head on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. You don’t know who long you lay there, with your head on his chest, staring down at the ring on your finger. “I would have said yes,” you whisper into the darkness. “Third time the charm, huh?”
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Sorry Chapter 1
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this is a rewrite, if you want to read the original version, it is still up on my wattpad : Sorry (Wattpad)
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
WORDCOUNT: 2,480
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“Do you even want to get married?” Jonathan Fatu asked his fiancé who rolled her eyes and turned her back to him to finish packing their bags. She was so sick and tired of having the same conversation with him. Everyday it was ‘ when are we gonna get married?’ Like, what was the rush?  “Dominique, I know you hear me talking to you.” Jon frowned when she still ignored him and walked past him to make sure theft had no belongings in the bathroom.  He scoffed and followed her, blocking her from exiting the bathroom. 
“This the shit I'm talking about Dominique. If you don’t wanna be with me nomore, Just say that shit. This is fucking torture.  Dominique's eyebrows raised and she looked over at Jon who was already staring at her with his mouth open.
“Excuse me?!” 
“Dom-” 
“No” He held up her hand stopping him in his tracks. “You know what?” she scoffed, she took her ring off her finger and threw it at him. “I’m done.” 
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“Aight, so you going to get the scripts for tonight or what?” Jon sighed and stood up from the couch, ignoring the looks his brothers and cousin threw at each other and walked out of the dressing room towards the writers room. He just knew Dom was going to be in there given her best friend was the head writer for Smackdown. 
He hadn’t seen Dominique since earlier that morning when she threw her engagement ring in his face and stormed out of the hotel room.  He didn’t mean that their relationship was torture. He was just so in love with her and all he wanted to do was marry the love of his life, but she was making it difficult. Every time he asked about the wedding he got shut down or ignored and he was over it.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the door, opening it when Ishana yelled out ‘come in’. Dominique stopped talking as Jon walked into the room. She rolled her eyes as they made eye contact. 
“I’m here for the scripts.” He said, feeling his heartache in his chest. Ishana nodded and  got up from her desk and walked over to the stack of papers with a sticky note saying “BLOODLINE”.
“Here you go.” She said trying to hand the papers over to Jon but he had turned his attention to Dominique who was pretending to be busy on her phone. Even when she was upset with him, he thought she was the most beautiful person walking the earth, from her chocolate brown skin to her deep brown eyes that he felt were always staring into his soul.
“Dominique, can we talk please?”  Ishana shuffled on her feet and the awkward energy in the room. She tried to hand Jon the scripts again but he sucked his teeth and stormed over to Dominique, crouching down in front of her.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just frustrated” He tried to grab her hands but she pushed away from him. 
“No. You said what you said Jon. You said that being with me is torture.” Ishana’s mouth dropped open and she glared at the back of Jon’s head. Jon groaned and dropped his chin to his chest, letting out a deep sigh. 
“That’s not what  meant-” 
“Well it’s what you said.” She cut him off. “And I don’t want to be with someone who thinks that being with me is torture.” She stood up from her chair and turned towards Ishana. “I’ll see you later.” Ishana nodded and she and Jon watched Dominique leave the room. 
“You fucked up.” 
Jon sighed and stood up from his crouched down position. “I know, I didn’t mean it though.”
“I know, but you know how Dom is.” Ishana said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Y’all gon get through this.” Jon nodded, grabbing the scripts out of Ishana’s hand and walking out of the room. He thought about going to find Dominique but decided not to. He knew how she got when she was upset and knew that she wouldn’t want to hear anything he had to say. So he begrudgingly made his way back to the Bloodline’s locker room. 
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“And his opponent. Accompanied to the ring by Jimmy Uso, he is one half of the Smackdown tag team champions.. JEY USO!” Dominique spoke into the microphone before sitting back down in the time keepers area. She was able to avoid Jon all day and she hoped that he would be professional enough to not say anything to her while he was ringside. 
She watched Josh whisper something to Jon and then they both looked over at her causing Dom to suck in a deep breath. Josh nodded and Jon got out of the ring and started walking over towards her. She narrowed her eyes as walked over to lean on the barricade in front of her.  “You wanna talk to me now?” Dominique’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. 
“You’re not doing this now.” She muttered, placing the microphone down so the conversation wouldn’t get picked up. “I’m not doing this now.” She corrected with a roll of her eyes. 
“Stop harassing her.” They both looked over to Randy Orton, who had made his way over to them. 
“Aye, this don’t involve you. Pay attention to your homeboy in the ring.” Jon glowered, his upper lip curling as he spoke. 
“Nah, you should pay attention to your homeboy.” Jon and Dominique looked towards the ring just in time to see Riddle hit Josh with a kick to the jaw that knocked him on his ass. Jon shot Dom a look before making his way back over to the ring, yelling at Josh. 
“You alright? That looked a bit heated” Randy asked and Dom nodded. 
“Yeah, i’m fine thank you..” Randy nodded this time, eyes falling on her left ring finger where her engagement ring should be. He smirked but said nothing else as he walked back over to where he was ringside to finish watching the match. She made eye contact with Jon who was watching her with narrowed eyes. 
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After Jey lost his match, both teams made their way to the back and Dominique's phone had not stopped vibrating in her pocket. She knew it was Jon so she ignored it. Whatever he had to say could wait. Was she being too mean? Maybe, but he should’ve never said loving her was torture. 
Smackdown was finally over and she made her way backstage going to find Ishana only to run into Jon holding her tote bag. “How did you - nevermind. Can I have my stuff please?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 
“Not until you talk to me, Dominique.” She rolled her eyes and stomped her foot like a child. 
“Jon, just give me my stuff. Ishana’s waiting on me.” 
“So you riding with her?” 
“Yes, I do not want to be around you right now, Jon. I really don’t understand why you don’t understand that.” 
“Because you’re my fiance.” 
“Am I? I mean.” She trailed off and turned her attention to Josh who was standing behind Jon looking beyond awkward. “Josh, would you tell your fiance that loving her was like torture.” 
“That’s not what I said Dominique” 
“I , uh-” Josh stuttered looking at his twin. 
“Exactly,” She then turned her attention back to Jon, holding her hand out for her bag, “Just give me my stuff so I can go, please.  I don’t want to argue with you.” 
“Whatchu mean go? Are we not going back to the same hotel room?” He asked confused and Dominique shook her head. 
“No, I decided to stay with Ishana tonight.” She said, still holding her hand out for her bag. “It’s what’s best for us right now.” Jon pursed his lips and thrusted her bag in her hands before walking away from her. 
“You alright sis?” Josh questioned, walking over to give Dominique a hug which she accepted. 
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” She said giving him another hug before walking out of the building. 
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“Damn you okay?” Ishana asked as Dominique entered the car and slammed the door behind her. 
“Sorry Sha, I ran into Jon.” Dominique nodded and started driving towards the hotel. 
“Yeah, he came and snatched your bag and ran off before I could stop him.” Ishana said and both women rolled their eyes at Jon’s antics. “What caused him to say loving you was torture?” 
“He brought up the wedding” Ishana cut her eyes at Dom. 
“Okay…” She trailed off 
“And he keeps bringing up the wedding. We’ve only been engaged for nine months Sha, we have more than enough time.” 
“Babe. 9 months is a long time. You and I both know that man loves the crap outta you and just wants to marry you. It’s been all he has been talking about since he proposed.”  
“Yeah well.. The wedding is obviously off.”  Now at a red light, Ishana turned her attention to Dominique. 
“Girl stop playing, You know damn well you don’t mean that. You and the man love each other to death and this ain't the first time Jon done said some dumb shit out his mouth.” Both women let out a chuckle “ I mean you wanted to marry him right?” Dominique didn’t say anything. “Dom?” Dominique huffed and shrugged. 
“I think I do.” Dominique sighed and rubbed her temples. She felt a headache coming on. “It’s just like he wants to get married tomorrow and wants to start having kids and move into a bigger house. It’s too much at once.” 
“Have you told him that?” Dominique nodded and scoffed. 
“Yeah, he tells me that I need to grow up and that he needs more from me than just accepting his proposal.” Ishana silently agreed with Jon, but she also felt bad for her friend. Ishana knew Dominique too well and could tell that there was something holding Dominique back from marrying Jon. 
“Fuck it,  we’re going out tonight.” Ishana said sending a quick text message to Kayla and Carmella.
“Sha no - “ 
“Dom, yes. You need a night to unwind and relax and if we stay in the hotel all night all we’re going to do is get drunk and talk about Jon. So let’s go out, get drunk and talk about Jon.” Dominique sighed already knowing Ishana wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. 
“Fine.” rolling her eyes, Dominique reached into her bag to fish out her phone that she threw in there after Jon had given it back to her. Her eyebrows furrowed as her hand made contact with a velvet box that she knew was not in there earlier. Pulling the item out, she rolled her eyes as she opened it to find her engagement ring. 
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“Meet you back here in one hour.” Ishana said, pointing her finger at Dominique. “If you’re not here I will come find you.” Dominique rolled her eyes with a smile and gave her a lazy finger salute, before walking on the elevator as the doors opened up. 
As the elevator doors shut Dominique finally let the facade fall. Tears threatening to fall as thoughts of her and Jon not being together anymore crossed her mind. It wasn’t that she didn't love him, because she did, with her whole heart. And she did want to marry him, just at her own pace. Jon knew about her hesitation towards getting married since their third date and he was still pressuring her to hurry up, was being engaged not good enough for him right now? 
“Please be with Josh, Please be with Josh.” Dominique whispered to herself as she unlocked the hotel room door and pushed it open, luck was apparently not on her side as Jon was lounging on the bed scrolling on his phone.
‘Hi,” Dom whispered as she walked further into the room, placing her suitcase on the edge of the bed. 
“Hey” Jon whispered back, not taking his eyes off of her.  “Can we talk now?” 
“Jon.” Dominique groaned, as she riffled through her bag, looking for something to wear. “I don’t want to fight with you.” 
“Well I want to fight for you Dominique.” She said nothing as she gathered up all her essentials for her shower, she was almost inside the bathroom when Jon called out to her.  “Do you still want to be with me?” 
That stopped her in her tracks, “Of course I want to be with you Jon.” 
“So why everytime I bring up the wedding, you get like this? I love you and just want to marry you Dom.” 
“Listen, we can talk about that later.” She turned around again but he grabbed her arm stopping her. 
“Nah, we gonna talk about it now. You my other half and I need you to fuckin’ talk to me Dom.” He said getting slightly agitated with her.  “Cause right now I dont know what the fuck is happening.” 
“Jon, let's talk about it later.” She stressed, trying to walk away again but his grip tightened.  “Jon let me go.” 
He shook his head. “No, talk to me.” 
“Fine!” She exploded. “You keep bringing up us getting married like you want us to get married tomorrow. Is that what you want? Fine! As soon as we land in Florida we’ll go to the courthouse and get married! Is that what you want?!” 
“No, that’s not what I want Dom, I want you to want to marry me. Not do it because you feel like I'm houding you.” 
“Buy you are.” She stressed, “you're pressuring me to get married knowing how I feel! I accepted your proposal. Isn’t that enough right now?” 
He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “Pressuring you? It’s been 9 fuckin’ months Dom!” 
“Yes, pressuring me. I accepted your proposal, I’m still here with you and if that's not enough for you then maybe you should go find somebody else then. Somebody who wants to move at your pace.” 
“Get the fuck outta here with that shit Dom. That’s what you gon say to me really?” She just huffed and held her arms out. 
“Well what do you want from me Jon?”  They were both getting frustrated. 
“ I just want one fuckin’ step from you just one!” He said holding up his index finger. “ I need something else besides you accepting my proposal. Have you even looked at dresses yet?”  When she didn’t say anything he scoffed. “See that’s what I’m fucking talking about!” He said, starting to raise his voice. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath “You know what..” he opened his eyes and Dom felt her heart crack at the look of pain in them. “Imma go stay with Josh. I can’t even look at you right now…” 
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Heyyy 🙂
First chapter of the rewrite.. i'm loving it so far.. how about y'all?
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halcyonwrld · 16 days
Text
— EVERLASTING PROMISE
PAIRING. Kim Dahyun x Fem!Reader
After a persistent princess tracks you down through meetings with a few of the local village’s herbalists, she has the gall to request your presence, in search of some of your more… magical pursuits. You set up a place and time just so she’ll leave you be, but find yourself waiting for her there out of pure curiosity. (1K)
TAGS. royal!au, fantasy!au, forced marriage, bittersweet angst, witch!reader who's just fed up with everything
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“You clean up nicer than I expected.”
With that, you set down your mug with a sour grimace, the fresh brew on your tongue going stale as your mood.
Muffled thunder rages overhead, nearly drowned out by a bout of laughter around you. You open your eyes. Take in the sight of dripping lashes, a neat collar around the throat, and squared shoulders— all fine until you notice a flash of silver rings as pale hands rise to adjust the neckline of a shoddy cloak.
“And you hardly know a thing about subtlety,” you snap in retort.
She was practically asking to get caught.
Dahyun gawps, stammering on her words, “Hey- if you must know, subtlety is practically my middle name! It just.. slipped my mind that it was meant to rain tonight, is all…” Her explanation goes flat under your unamused glare, her last sentence coming to a quiet, embarrassed drawl. You imagine her with feathers, all of them fluffing up as she tries to recover, leaning towards you to hiss, “I might’ve fared better if I didn’t have to abandon my horse to travel on foot. This terror hole is nearly impossible to find, it could’ve taken—”
You hold up your hand, stopping the princess dead in her tracks.
“Spare me the even bigger headache and make this quick, please.” You stifle a wince as the chatter in the tavern swells once more, rubbing at your temples. “There are things I have to tend to.”
“Fine. I need a love potion.”
You scowl. “No.”
“I knew you would-” her face drops, “wait, w- what do you mean no?”
You pick up your mug again to drown your laughter in ale. “It means it’s not happening, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Or what? You’ll tell on me?”
Dahyun reaches her hand into her jacket, fear visibly seizing her into motionlessness as a subtle blue aura begins to dance around your fingertips. Your voice lowers considerably. “This isn’t your pretty little castle, sweetheart, no one’ll be answering your cries of distress if you try anything stupid.”
Under the faint haze of torchlight, Dahyun swallows.
Still, she pulls the object out of her coat pocket.
It’s just a scroll.
You ignore her trembling hands as she flattens the page onto the rickety oak in front of you. It's a lengthy thing. Written neatly in inks darker than nights like these. Your eyes skim back and forth.
These… these are papers for her marriage. If she wants them, this means—
Your heart plummets.
The silence on your end must make her anxious, her body practically vibrates as she blurts out, “I know- I know they’re illegal. But I need this.”
You swallow. “For you, or him?”
“Myself.”
You don’t know if that makes it better or worse.
“...Why would you marry someone you don’t love?” you ask, keeping your voice carefully measured. Not overconcerned, but not too careless either.
“If it’ll aid in my favor, I’ll have you know this wasn’t my decision either.”
The way she breaks your stare betrays her casualty about it all, but that doesn’t stop her from shrugging. Her lips purse. Brows furrow.
Like a flash of lightning, the moment is over as quick as it happened. Those dark eyes are back on you again. Her stare resolute. “But… everyone has a part to play.”
Everyone has a part to play.
Where have you heard that from before?
Shaking your head, you stand swiftly, taking your lantern in hand. “I’m sorry, but I’m not risking everything just so that you can live out your happy ending.”
And you leave.
Princess or not, it was silly for her to come to you. Everyone knew love potions were forbidden. Folktales and parables told countless stories about them. How they quickly turned love into obsession. Turned the simplest of men into something cruel. Nearly unfeeling.
Part of you couldn’t deny her courage, you supposed, but another part of you abhorred her presumptuousness. Immediately assuming you’d say yes. Approaching you in the first place. Saying she had an offer you couldn’t refuse. Like hell you couldn’t.
You’re a few feet from the backdoor when you hear her call.
Ignoring her, you step into the rain, letting the door shut behind you. Serves her right for wasting your time on a night like this, where the moon is full and the opportunity for harvest yields higher than usual.
“Wait!”
You're pulled back by your wrist.
“Please, I’ll give you anything you long for! Access back into the town, jewels, herbs, a spot in the castle, however much money it takes-”
You yank your arm away, glaring at her from underneath your hood. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“I know I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in misery!”
“Don’t we all,” you snark.
“Look, I know that my parents exiled you. But you should know better than anyone that not everyone happens to align with the likes of them or their ideals!” she yells over the rain. “I- I seriously want to change the way things are. But I need it to be perfect, anything but and you can bet someone just as bad as them will be sitting up on that throne! And they might do worse than banish and imprison.”
You stare at her with wide eyes, so shocked you speak before your brain even has time to catch up, “They teach you that in princess school?”
Dahyun crosses her arms with a pout, muttering, “That’s not a thing.”
You turn to hide your smile, “If you say so.”
You only get a few paces away to reenter the woods when you realize you don’t hear any movement behind you. Turning around, you find Dahyun still standing there. Her posture reeks of defeat. Shoulders slumped. Lantern dangling to the ground. Head low. All of the rain like a vicious fog, only adding to her somber image.
“You coming or not, princess?” you call.
Dahyun looks up with wide eyes, as if not having heard you the first time. Unable to take a win, it seems. You roll your eyes, lifting your lantern and gesturing with your head as if to say come on. The way her face lights up is a magic of its very own.
You turn back forward.
“We still have a lot to discuss, privately,” you say once she reaches your side, making sure your tone leaves no room for discussion. Not out here. Even the woods have ears.
“You won’t regret this, I promise,” she breathes out.
That makes you clench your jaw. The last time a royal promised you something, it’d ended in disaster.
After all, you would know best, since you were the first Kim Dahyun ever promised to marry.
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pricesbeltbuckle · 2 months
Note
Hello!!! I'm a recent follower and just wanted to say I absolutely **adore** the stuff you write and I've binged your entire blog 🥹💕 If you're up for it, could you write something with Ghost where he meets a woman who's *just like him* personality-wise (wary of strangers and untrusting)? (headcanons encouraged!) Thank you so much for all you've written so far, please keep going and have a great day! ☺️💕
Twin - Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Violence?,Guns?,Fluff
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Ghost has always been wary of strangers, he doesn’t trust anyone…But you. When he first met you he could tell, you were just like him.
So a couple years later you guys move in with each other, more so you move into his house so you can look after it while he’s deployed but when he comes home he takes you out to dinner.
He noticed what you noticed, a lady at the bar staring you down like she was telling someone something on the phone about you.
“I don’t trust-” “I know. Just ignore er’ probably talking trash. Look at those split ends.” You nearly spit out your drink as you let out a laugh you leaned over and then you heard it. A gunshot that JUST missed you.
Ghost quickly picked you up and ran to the back of the restaurant. What the fuck happened on that mission?
“I knew something was off!” “How are you not fucking terrified you nearly got shot!?!” “Dad used to be a cop, been to the shooting range a couple of times-Not the point! How the fuck do we get out of here?” Ghost rolled his eyes
“Right..There’s that window right there? If we crawl out we should be fine. Will probably take us around the back.” You nodded, “You should probably go first and also tell Price about this later…” He went out the window and reached for your hand and pulled you out and carried you down the block.
“I will tell Price, can you call an uber?” “Yeah thank god we didn’t take a car I would’ve been so pissed.” Ghost scoffed. “You’re like a mini me.” “Shut up, no I'm not..” You finished up with the uber and Ghost passed the phone and it was Price.
“Jesus, are you okay? Ghost told us what happened-” “Blonde hair…Split ends like 5’4? Brown eyes. Does that help?” “Oh-Actually yeah thank you..” You talked for 5 minutes then handed the phone back. Thank god the uber showed up, you get bored quickly.
Ghost and you like the same shows,foods,And you practically have the same emotions. It was like you were just the female copy of him. It was terrifying how accurate your emotions were.
“Si! Can you get me-” “Chips? Got it.” “Thank you!” You didn’t know how he knew but he did and you loved that. 
You guys did buy a german shepard, his name is Rocky and at first Ghost didn’t want him but he trained the dog to attack on command so now he likes him.
You both love coffee. BLACK coffee. It can never have anything too sweet in it or you’ll both hate it. 
Has definitely listened to all your playlists and loves them, lets you have AUX cord a lot.
One time on an undercover mission he let you drive all of them to the designated spot they needed to be able to see the target at.
“God, I hate these missions.” Soap complained and Price rolled his eyes. “And I hate you Soap, were here lower your voice!” “Okay mini Ghost.”
You glared back at him from the front seat and Ghost turned around and tried to tell him in a hand motion to shut up!!
“We can end this early and I will come back there and kill you myself.” “I-You know what my bad I’m sorry Mrs.Riley.” You turned your attention to the window and watched for the target. You liked the ring of “Mrs.Riley”
“You know what Si-” “Yes, we will look at ring’s later.” “Okay good, at that one store-” “Yes the one at the mall you like.” Soaps jaw dropped.
“You aren’t married?” “We are by paper and have been for 2 years, we just have to do an event and get rings.” Ghost spoke up and you smiled a little. You loved this life no matter how crazy it really was.
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YAYYY I LOVED THIS!! MAKING AN AU FRFR!!!!!! 😻
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boundinparchment · 9 months
Text
Blasphemous Rumors - IV
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“Marry me.” He said it with such blasé that you weren’t sure you heard him correctly.  Silence surrounded the two of you and he leaned down and tilted his head, watching you like a specimen under a microscope. “Just for a year.  A marriage of convenience.  Consider it nothing more than a harmless experiment for the sake of curiosity.” Il Dottore/Female reader with established personality.  Slow-ish burn.  Semi-enemies to lovers. On AO3 here. Likes, reblog, and comments appreciated.
That sentiment never left in the weeks of planning that followed.  
Every time someone asked about your ring, you told them it was being resized and that neither of you were pleased with the clarity of the gems.  Besides, you would say, you didn’t want to show it off before the wedding.
The wedding date was settled by a Segment (Omega, you were certain, for he was the closest to the actual Doctor in personality) unceremoniously dropping a calendar on your desk.  You closed your eyes, placed your finger somewhere and landed on a weekend towards the later half of the month.
Omega then had the gall to take a paperclip from your tiny dish that held them and twist one into a ring before he left without another word.
You didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.
The timeline was short.  Six weeks.  Even your coworkers who dabbled in event planning for the annual ball and other celebrations balked at the small window of time.  A wedding of this magnitude required at least a year, someone said, and you wished their gaze hadn’t dropped to your lower half so blatantly.
When you weren’t working and trying to keep your eyes and ears about you to pass along information, you were trying to meet and correspond with vendors and come up with a vision of an event that, quite frankly, would suit neither of you if the matter of rank didn’t come into play.  It kept you so busy that you toyed with the idea of a kamera to save you time but even those in Snezhnaya were not slim nor inconspicuous. But they were expensive to maintain.  You couldn’t afford to add another item to your paper-thin personal budget.
You ran through your itinerary in your head again as you made your way down from the Palace and into town, thankful the weather was at least holding out a bit.  Post office, bank, and an appointment with a seamstress that wasn’t on Regrator’s list of preferred vendors.
All of the dresses you saw and tried were simply…too much.  Tried too hard.  Beautiful in their work but felt like another layer of paint rather than an organic addition to the whole affair.
As far as you knew, the Harbinger had a personal tailor in the Palace anyway and going off of the suggested list was bound to produce some results.  You were determined to find vendors who could use the support and might be overlooked otherwise.
Bad enough you had to go to Northland; you didn’t need wedding vendors working against you either.
The post office was packed, as usual, and you eagerly handed over the last remnants of your copied ledgers and notes.  They might as well have been burning holes in your cloak pocket all morning.  Your room and your office was now free of damning evidence.  Privacy was almost non-existent now and it would vanish entirely soon enough.  If you wrote to your parents more frequently, you could still keep up the habit established and not raise suspicion.
A break in a usual routine would be seen as unusual, you reminded yourself.
Amid the other envelopes was a thicker one, your reluctant communication to your parents about the change of circumstance.  They deserved to know and understand that it changed nothing (if they were different people, you would not have told them at all).  Traveling to the city was out of the question for them between the cost and your father’s health, let alone the added layer of your boss being thrown into that mix.
Lord Dottore’s proposal and your agreement already put you in a spotlight you never wanted to be in.  You didn’t need Pantalone knowing exactly how bad of a position your parents’ bankruptcy had put them, and you, in.  
Funny how you feared the Second Harbinger far less despite his gruesome acts, you mused after you thanked the clerk and made your way to Northland’s prominent facade.  At least he wouldn’t care one way or the other so long as nothing interfered with his work.  He never made it personal.
Until now, in a way.
Your cheek strung for a brief moment as your skin remembered the cold metal of your letter opener.  The closest thing to a kiss you two shared.
Northland’s home branch was a source of tourism as much as it was an actual bank.  Vaulted ceilings soared high overhead and marble pillars provided support that, for the briefest moments, made the building feel as much of a chapel as it was a bank.  The guided tours helped.
Compared to the latest branch in Liyue Harbor, it was surprisingly austere in its plainness.  Pantalone’s office suite and several of the other rooms outside of the lobby of tellers were far more opulent; much like its owner, the bank presented one image to the public and another to its closest confidants.  The coffered ceilings casted shadows as intricate as the dealings on the floor below.
You waited in line, as everyone did.  Most of the staff knew you, at least by loose association, and you were under no impression that anything was ever truly hidden.
Your family situation wasn’t the secret you needed to keep, after all.  As far away as you tried to keep it, part of you knew that your boss was likely aware you sent most of your pay home.  That you worked at the Palace as a sacrifice for the poor choices of others.  And that he was likely at fault, although you doubted he would ever claim as such.
The source of the money was a different story, of course.
A bridge to cross another day.
As you filled out the respective slips for deposit and withdrawal, the clerk’s head snapped up out of your peripheral vision with an audible gasp.
“My lady, why didn’t you say you would be accompanied by your fiancé, the Lord Harbinger?” She whispered, a tinge of fear tainting her words.  “We would have prepared a private office for you both to take care of your business.”
“I—”
Out of the corner of your eye to your left, you caught a tall figure with hair the color of a spring morning sky and a shining earring that gave off its own glow.  The white cloak with its black fur collar filled in the gaps.  Around you, it felt as if the very air around you had been sucked out.  Chattering had all but ceased and you heard the shuffle of people changing their posture, dedicating their attention to the notion that a Harbinger was among them.
Would you ever get used to that?  Likely not.  When it was just the two of you, things were different; it was you and him meeting blow for verbal blow.  You did your best to keep your composure and just as you were about to politely smile and tell the clerk that you handled affairs separately, a voice to your left interjected.
“Such accommodations won’t be necessary.  We are not staying long enough to require them,” Lord Dottore remarked, not even turning his head in your direction.
Your face felt hot as you thanked the clerk for their assistance and handed over the account slips.  A presence lingered at your side and you didn’t have to look to see that it was Dottore; he had already finished whatever his errand was but for him to leave would look bizarre, you rationalized.  You tried to ignore the biting thought that he was sticking around to ensure you didn’t bumble your way through the transaction now that the cat was out of the bag.
“Just a deposit then, My Lady?” the clerk asked.
“Yes, as usual.  Will the funds be accessible later today?”
“Immediately, ma’am.  The account holder should have no issue.”
If you timed it right, the morning post would arrive in time for your mother to reach the bank and take care of other affairs before the end of the day.  Bills were already paid.  But groceries and medicine were constant necessities and your parents couldn’t stockpile like they used to.
Next to you, Lord Dottore seemed to prickle with a question that he knew wasn’t appropriate.  Hearing his fiancé was giving money away when she was, supposedly, so good at it herself, was a variable never discussed.
A lot of things weren’t discussed though.  This might as well have been an elopement save for the actual, well, act of running away.
Once everything was finished, Dottore escorted you out of the bank, extending his elbow in silent regard.  Right.  Anything else would be too informal.  You tried your best not to look uncomfortable with his proximity or at the looks and whispers from staff and client alike as you looped your hand underneath to hold the crook of his arm.
“Not an outcome I anticipated but one I will take advantage of nonetheless,” Dottore muttered, only loud enough for you to hear.  “I need to borrow your hand.”
You looked up at him, face contorted in confusion.  The proposal was unusual enough on its own.  Did he mean your actual hand, and if so, attached or detached?  Was your life now going to be filled with bizarre requests?  
“What?” you hissed, baffled.
Several heads turned as you walked through the snowy street.  The tilt of his head told you he was glaring at you for drawing such attention.
“You need a ring, do you not, my dear?  I might be the best scholar in several centuries but even I am aware that ring sizes are best left to proper measurement devices.”
Oh.  Of course.  Your ring.
“I thought you were busy for the next several weeks, sir,” you emphasized your correction more for those who might overhear than the man you were speaking with.  “Unless you are, in fact, not the Doctor?”
“As if I would leave such a personal matter to a segment.”
He spat the words, insulted.  Whether by the insinuation he’d doled out the task or your seeming inability to tell him apart from his counterparts, you couldn’t quite tell.
You could tell them apart.  Lord Dottore knew that.  
But he also knew how important it would be to make this appear right.
Lord Dottore didn’t wait for you to reply and continued.  “It will not take long and then you can be on your way.  Where else are you off to, anyway?”
“I have an appointment with a seamstress.  Plenty of well-known vendors extended their offerings but they were…” you gestured with your free hand, finding yourself at a loss for words other than, “rather unremarkable.”
The chuckle that wrenched from his lips made your blood run cold and your heart jump.
“You’re certainly playing your part, Accountant,” he teased.
Of course you were.  What did he expect, to marry you in your uniform?  You bit your tongue for a second to think on your words.
“As I said when last we spoke, I don’t wish to misrepresent you.  That goes for your rank as well as who you are, or at least the image you project.  But everything I was presented with was just not right.”
You walked in silence for three steps before Lord Dottore said, “Elaborate.”
That was like asking you to explain why you balanced numbers the way you did or why you preferred to sleep on your right rather than your left side.  You just did.  
“They’re beautiful but they feel almost…like I’m competing with the Tsaritsa.  Like I’m just a doll to wear the dress rather than the dress being a reflection of…well, me.”
You cast a glance up at Lord Dottore as he gave a hum and found his head angled towards you in such a way that prevented you from seeing beneath his mask.  A part of you was curious, of course, about what he looked like.  You weren’t alone in that regard but it was never acted upon except by the young, giddy acolytes who had yet to find their place as a Fatuus, enamored with the prospect rather than the work.
Even as a spouse, you doubted you would be privy to his face.  Why would you be?  You were to be an equal on paper, nothing more.
“I trust your judgment, Accountant.  The ceremony is long and the reception is longer; it would be better to have something that you feel comfortable in.  I don’t rightly care, as you well know, but expectations must be met for this to be believable.”
Before you could speak again, you were led into a shop with glass counters and carefully placed lights.  The encased jewelry and the glass itself didn’t so much sparkle as glow and you were careful to tap out your boots so as to not soak the plush carpet.
Lord Dottore didn’t so much as shake out his cloak’s hem as he addressed the shopkeeper.  You tried to keep your expression neutral as you looked around, each case organized by the type of stone.  Everything in here had to be worth at least ten times your salary in total and it churned your stomach to even try to calculate that amount.  You tore your gaze away and returned to Dottore’s side.
Sizing was, in fact, just as quick as he said it would be.  The process was just a matter of using the jeweler's equivalent to a set of keys, each sizing ring marked with the appropriate measurement.  You tried on a few before settling on a number that was snug enough not to slip over your knuckle easily and came off with a bit of a struggle.
“There, matter settled,” Dottore murmured as the jeweler jotted down notes.
And you didn’t even lose a hand, you thought.  Yet.
If you were alone, you might have made the joke aloud.  
He was closer than you expected, his eyes seemingly glued to the case the entire time you went back and forth with the jeweler on the sizing.  He’d only chimed in once in the whole process, to take your hand and try the sizer himself, as if gauging the difficulty of getting the ring over your knuckle.  You tensed instantly before reminding yourself to relax.
You would need to get used to being in his presence and he would have to put your band on your finger publicly, after all.
Something in his face shifted and you got the distinct feeling you’d failed whatever he was trying to benchmark.  You’d been slipping.  First the bank, now this.  His finger traced the faint line across your cheek as he brushed his lips over your forehead.
“You should get going if you don’t want to be late, my dear.”
“Of course,” you replied, tilting your head and daring to lean ever so slightly into the gesture.
Two could play that game.
You thanked the jeweler for their time and left the shop, hoping the cold would stave off the burning sensation on your cheek.
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The seamstress appointment was better, but only just.  At the mere mention of the timeline and the passing look between the shopkeeper and the assistant, you knew they connected the dots as to which upcoming wedding this was for.
“We would have come to you, my lady,” the seamstress said.
You could feel any sense of control over the situation slipping away to propriety again.
“Please, I’m not—”
“A Harbinger’s fiancé, and the Second’s at that, shouldn’t have to come down into town.  We would have gladly made the trip up to the Palace.”
Was it a faux part on your part or was it fear?  Her face was so hard to read.  Running any kind of business was difficult enough.  Harder still to contend with public courtesy and unwritten rules.  Fontaine had it worst of all, you recalled, but even here in Snezhnaya, rank and social standing ruled with a golden hand.
It only went so far, though, and that Pantalone didn’t work directly with the shop spoke volumes to you.  You overheard so many conversations when you were in the backroom, balancing the books and triple-checking the tax levies.  Those who respected your father’s time were the ones he was always willing to work with, no matter the situation.
“I want whoever I work with to be in the best environment for them.  You have everything here, after all; it makes far more sense for me to come to you,” you replied evenly.
Hopefully, in the event someone decided to speak and spread whatever they saw, you passed as humble and self-aware.
After all, that was the point.
You eventually found yourself swaddled in lace and tulle, watching as the two craftspeople worked together to find the perfect color and the perfect patterns.  A very soft silvery-blue, rather than a strict white, laid a shimmering foundation upon which the lace and tulle were overlaid; the bodice and sleeves would be lace and the pattern would fade until the hem and the train.  It was difficult to visualize at first until you looked at another dress, already made, and they described the changes in volume and cut with a sketch that made you wish you did have a kamera after all.  
What beauty, wasted on the likes of Il Dottore, you thought as you looked in the mirror and watched as the material reflected light as though it were water.  Such a moment would make any ordinary bride happy but you had never felt more alone in the entire endeavor thus far.
Neither truly balked at the six week time frame when you began discussing deadlines and cost.  Instead, you were reassured that you would have a dress that would keep the rest of the nation talking for years to come.  A grandiose exaggeration, spoken with all the levity one might read a law, but you appreciated it nonetheless.
When you stepped out into the cold again, you were greeted by a familiar mask and cloak; Lord Dottore was standing outside like a large menacing hound, waiting for you.
He said nothing and began to walk away as you pulled your cloak tighter around you to seal away your warmth.  It took you a moment to realize he was walking in the direction of the Palace.
“If you’re finished, my lord, it would be more expedient to take a carriage back,” you advised.  “The snow makes for poor footfalls and the sky might open any minute again.”
Dottore turned his head to gaze over his shoulder at you, his mouth thin.  In turn, you raised your eyebrows, expectant.  It was the same look you gave him when you needed an explanation during an audit.
“I walked down from the Palace,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and the biggest inconvenience to admit.
“So did I.  But the people have seen us together and it would not be fitting for us to be seen trekking back up to the Palace.  We don’t have to be a wholly united front but even you know that the optics of that, in addition to my empty finger, don’t bode well.  Don’t want to be accused of not caring, do you?”
Dottore clicked his tongue as a puff of hot breath streamed from his nose and for a moment, he looked every bit like an angry dragon as he turned and flagged down a nearby coach.  You didn’t miss the smug smirk and sardonic bite when he said, “After you,” and helped you into the closed carriage.  
Silence dominated the ride out of town and back up the hill the Palace sat on.  Your feet ached and now that you were sitting down, you realized how much the day had taken out of you for errands that, normally, wouldn’t have bothered you.  Granted, you hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was well into the afternoon, which didn’t exactly help.  You went through your mental checklist of things to be done as you gazed out the coach window; your thoughts were interrupted by a tap of your shoe from the man across from you.  He withdrew his leg, as much as he could within the confines of the space and extended his hand, which held a tiny box.
Your eyes flicked from the box to his hidden face just once, finding his expression unreadable as always, before you took it from him.
Perched within were two rings of gold so brilliant it looked almost pink, woven into a vine pattern.  The first ring held a sizeable light blue stone so clear it looked as if it could have been carved from ice, flanked by a smaller stone on either side that appeared more purple than blue, iridescent in the way it refracted light.  The setting was dotted with tiny blue stones of the same color and clarity as the centerpiece, resulting in a diamond-shaped cluster.  Beneath it, the accompanying wedding band mimicked the setting, woven vines housing tiny ice droplets, the shape lining up with the other ring exactly so the two nested together.
The sensation from earlier in the dress shop came flooding back.  Such craftsmanship and time went into making such a beautiful piece.  On their own, the rings were stunning, but there was thought in this choice; it matched many of the motifs the man himself used and was known for and it would act as a reminder whenever she wore it.
Something tugged at your stomach before you reminded yourself that this was all for a show, that it didn’t matter.  You blinked away tears faster than they could form.  No.  He didn’t deserve such a thing from you.
But you couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been in that shop looking for something capable of such impact.
“It should keep Pantalone quiet.  Not that anything will ever silence that man’s prattling, especially if he knew how many arms I had to twist to find something suitable.”
Briefly, you recalled the rings on Lord Pantalone’s fingers and how often they were swapped out, save the globus cruciger.  It was not uncommon to hear him remark about the clarity of a stone or the difficulty in obtaining it; the bragging point was often the price and you always refrained from retching every time you heard a figure higher than the last.
You removed your gloves and slipped on the first ring.  It fit perfectly; not that you expected anything less.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, handing him back the box with the wedding band.  “I wasn’t expecting anything quite so…”
“As we’ve agreed, Accountant, this needs to be well beyond believable,” Dottore replied, tucking the box away in his cloak.  “It would have been easy to give you any ring and have this be passable on the surface.  No one questions a diamond ring in high social circles, only how big the diamond is, after all.  However, we have the added thread of plausibility and both of us are aware Regrator scrutinizes everything.  Aquamarine and tanzanite, with reinforced rose gold, in the event one should ask.”
When you’d managed to bring yourself to make the trip down to his workshops, you didn’t expect much from that conversation other than at least a piece of jewelry that would stop all of the lingering stares and whispers.  He’d thrown your expectations out the window.
That was quintessentially him, though, wasn’t it?  To take something and run with it, to push an idea well beyond the expectations and thoughts of others.
Lord Dottore knew it, too, for he adjusted his posture ever so slightly.  Just like he did when he knew you had no other recourse but to give in to his budget requests.
“I’ve held up my end as requested, Accountant.  But I find myself curious: what were you doing at Northland?”
A question you knew he’d been dying to ask ever since he overheard the transaction at the bank.  And you were no longer in a position to deny him the answer, not when he’d not only fulfilled your request but did so well beyond the expectations you held.
Bastard.
He didn’t need to know much, you reasoned.  And you were in no position to not answer.  Defensiveness here would raise too many alarm bells.  
“I…send money to my parents back home.  Most of my pay goes to them to cover bills and expenses.  My father no longer works; my mother spreads herself too thin caring for him and trying to earn a pittance when she can,” you replied.
The words almost choked you to admit them outloud.  No one else, not even your coworkers, knew; Lord Pantalone probably did, at least to some extent.  But it seemed like an unspoken responsibility shouldered by those within the administration spheres and on the field.  The way food was shared during lunch after an admission of missing a meal or the crowd-funding of a night out to raise spirits seemed so contrary to what you expected.  You had chipped in all for the sake of appearances only to be given the same respect in kind.  It wasn’t foreign to you, per se, but after the bankruptcy, it was difficult to find those willing to help your family when all they saw was negligence and bad decisions.
It was nothing to be ashamed about.
To clear the air, you continued.
“They’ve asked for nothing more and I fully intend to only use my wages for such things.”
Lord Dottore tilted his head before he looked away, his gaze seemingly set on the landscaping passing by.  The answer bored him, clearly, as you expected it to.
“I care little for what you do beyond your role but be sure not to neglect yourself for the sake of others.”
Icy rain fell in sheets, pelting the ground in soft plinks as you arrived back at the Palace.  You parted ways without another word and you wished the metal on your finger was as cold as the rain and the man who gave it to you.
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Her visit to Haeresys was quite unexpected, to say the least.  Not many people ventured down into the bowels of the Palace unless they absolutely had to.  But for her to not would otherwise lend itself poorly, wouldn’t it?
After all, she was never afraid to speak her mind before.  More than once she has left my ego bruised and my pride singed when she laid out points I’d pushed aside in previous considerations.  Said points were not neglected but rather only issues if they were encountered; when she provided context, more often than not, there was little option but to compromise.  When all is said and done, she too considers the bigger picture, just from a different angle.  No two artists paint the same image even when given the same set of references.  It is one of the few areas of the human experience that is, perhaps, at least intriguing.
Sohreh, for all her fawning, was similar.  At least the Accountant did not blush every time she laid eyes on me.
Such things were what drove my desire to create the prostheses, after all.
The pageantry of all of this…utterly ridiculous.  All of this for the sake of a bet, a gamble; a ladder for Pantalone to get off of my back at the cost of time I will never regain.
How do others pursue this for the sake of emotion?  This is truly joyous for some?  Or is it social convention that dictates one must go this route, to celebrate so widely when so few truly know those exchanging nuptials?
Does one even need emotion, that worthless thing of love, to make these arrangements work?
The historical argument would hold that no, emotion doesn’t matter.  Without that, perhaps something stronger still is erected to replace fleeting desire and heart palpitations and whimsical dreams.  This farce can be plausible without such trivial things.
And Regrator will be proved wrong, as all others before him have been.
Even if it means playing by the convention he expects us to follow.
Us.
Strange to use that in reference to…an existence outside of my own.
Other than her late night gallivanting to demand a ring, I have seen little of her.  Omega has dutifully managed what needed my input and that has allowed me to prioritize.  
The Tsaritsa has already insisted on sending me away and offered up a choice of properties to boot.  A lack of a honeymoon would be forgivable given my position and I would rather stay here and focus on what must be done.  Too much progress has already been made.  But I am in no position to deny Her Majesty’s will and I must also consider the Accountant’s position.  She was already questioned about a ring; I would never hear the end of it from Regrator and it would put her in an even worse position, surely, if we didn’t at least leave the Palace.
Annoying.  Worrying about another’s quality of life.  Their actions.  The impact they’ll have.
I had not expected running into her at the bank, of all places, although I cannot place why.  After all, she’s an accountant and financial assistant.  At the very least, she would be running an errand for work, if not for herself.  That was a normal occurrence for most people.
She’d avoided eye contact with me.  Even looked annoyed when the clerk mentioned transaction details, perhaps under the assumption I would be aware of them.
Not helped by her surprise when I provided my reasoning for needing her company.  What did she think, that I would be severing her body?  I am aware of the fear about me that spreads rumors like a plague but she should give me a little more credit than that.  After all, short of the reports given to the Tsaritsa, the Accountant is one of the few who at least can put a value to the work I do.  
Worse still, she looked stiff and uncomfortable during the ring sizing.  The jeweler is one of Regrator’s contacts but to work with anyone else would result in another earful I didn’t want to hear.  Anything detrimental would make its way back to the banker in no time.  But what better way to prove solidarity than throw it right in Regrator’s face?  Acting distant would do us no credit.
I had specifically chosen her for the bite she could give back and in public settings, she was proving to be less reliable than I hypothesized.  
How would she react to public affection, gestures that few would think twice about?  Her skin was still cold from outside when I leaned in.  She hid the dark circles beneath her eyes well enough and by now, the cut on her cheek had healed, leaving behind only a thin line noticeable in the right light.  The scent of parchment and ink clung to her, mingled with whatever floral scent her soap was infused with.
Disgusting.  How could anyone ever find the smell of flowers pleasant?
And then she had the gall to tilt her head and look up at me through her lashes.  A lesser individual might have bought such behavior.
Not me.
She left for her dress appointment and the nagging thought of my own attire came to mind.  Omega was seeing to that.  White with tails, blue and gold accents, all the while bearing the feathery mantle I’ve grown quite fond of.  Why not have a bit of a dramatic flair, after all, if I must go through with all of this?
I should have left the ring to Omega, in hindsight.  He would have come to the same conclusion I did.  All the colors before me were nothing more than structural compounds of specific minerals and a mix of circumstances.  No stone was special when it was broken down into its most basic components.
The deep reds and brilliant rubies were, to the jeweler’s credit, remarkable enough for what they were.  If this were different, perhaps these would have been suitable…
But she has never seen my eyes.  And she likely never will.
Diamonds would be appropriate, if nothing else.  
Rare, resilient.  
Cliche.  
Aquamarine, however…would be a reflection of her homeland, among other things.  Symbolically, it was impossible to go wrong or be misinterpreted.
But the stones nearby, iridescent purple ranging in various shades, were far more unique.  I’d encountered such stones before, in the depths of the desert when taking apart Deshret’s Primal Constructs to reinforce my boots and weaponry during my exile.  Deshret had failed in his attempt to save the people; his legacy meant little to me.
Two colors, then.
The jeweler was quick to accommodate, finding a matching band in no time, but it paled in comparison to the main ring when the stones were properly set.  I had little doubt he would hesitate to inform Pantalone the moment I left.  Paying extra would do little but delay the information anyway.
I found the notion of a band for myself wasteful.  I’d never wear the thing.  It would only get in the way.
But the Accountant was dedicated to portraying the image needed…
Platinum would, at least, survive.
The Accountant finished her appointment not long after I’d tucked both boxes in my pocket and found the shop she’d mentioned.  It was impossible to see the back of the shop from the windows in front, even if I had been curious about her plans and wanted to know.
Which I didn’t.
I just wanted to be done with this entire affair so I could focus on other things.  Usually, I enjoy the process of the experiment; ever since the words left my mouth weeks ago, however…
Perhaps she was feeling something similar.  The look on her face when she stepped out of the shop was not unlike the one from when she first began working in the Palace, when she’d had no choice but to summon me in place of the Segments.  Her smile was strained, her eyes looking at him but clearly elsewhere.
And yet she still managed to dig her heels in about a carriage, of all things.
She’d walked down herself–she wasn’t the type to take an easy route or method anywhere.  The cold was, despite my Delusion, still bitter and dry for me and yet I didn’t think twice about taking the trip on-foot.  Few bothered me and I could go at my own pace.
I should have left her behind.  Why had I gone to the shop to wait for her, anyway?
Other than her protest for a carriage, she was quiet.  Not that I minded.  But her earlier behavior continued to nag, like an irritating fabric in cloying heat.  Was she like the rest after all?
When she took the box and opened it, her pragmatism won out.  It unsettled me that she did not, as most might, gush over the rings, but it sickened me all the more to wish she did.
What use was her praise?
None of this mattered.
The thanks from her lips were genuine enough but something in her face was harder to pin down.  Her eyes were a little watery though and the flush of her cheeks was not just from the brisk wind outside.  I’ll take what reactions I can get out of her…I need to document something, after all.
She kept her main ring and returned the box with the other band inside.  The red leather was still warm when I tucked it away again.
I couldn’t help myself, however, as the moment from the bank came to mind again.  Perhaps she would be pliable, now that I’d played along?  What was the worst that could happen?
Right.  Most still have a family.  Living for centuries desensitizes you to all of those notions.  
Sending money back home is not uncommon, especially among the lower ranks and the administrative branches.  She cared for others.  Not a sentiment I can understand.  
But I do know what it means to rise to every occasion, to come from nothing and fight for every scrap along the way.  As unconventional as it had been, the Akademiya saw to it that I would, in one way or another, find what I wanted out of life.
Her earnestness is unsettling.  Hard work pays off but only when you have something to prove.  At least she knows her boundaries, I suppose.  That should make it all the quicker to find them myself, see how they might break…
That this is nothing more than transactional should make that all the easier.
I left the carriage as soon as the horses pulled to a stop.  She’d managed to shake the doubts instilled in me with nothing more than a few words and a conviction that ran deeper than the icecaps not far from the Palace.  
She was the right choice for this little experiment after all.
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peachesyeo · 2 months
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regrets ── matz
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💌 parings: ceo!hongjoong x fem!reader x bestfriend!seonghwa 💌 genre: angst 💌 contains: misunderstandings, guilt, unsaid crushes (please just open your mouth and confess), major character death, reader has regrets. 💌 word count: 1.5k words
:̗̀➛ 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? :̗̀➛ 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞? :̗̀➛ 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? (for all works)
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You were nervous.
You took a sip of your coffee, your eyes on the silver ring that had accompanied you for five long years. You put down the cup, placing the ring on your finger. It slides down easily.
You placed your fingertips on the table. The ring slides down again, landing on the table with a dull thud.
You picked the ring up, rolling it between your fingers. Its design was simple, with only yours and Hongjoong's initials engraved on the inner part of the ring. Your eyes moved over to the file on the table. and you gripped the ring tightly.
"Y/n." You looked up. Hongjoong settled in the seat opposite yours, and your hold on the ring was tighter. "Hello, Hongjoong." You greeted, as though Hongjoong was a friend you rarely met up with, rather than someone who you have been married to for five years. You guestured to the cup of black coffee on the table, to which Hongjoong flashed you a smile, thanking you. "Thanks. What did you call me for?"
You pushed the file towards Hongjoong. "This."
Hongjoong put his cup down, reaching for the file. Opening its contents, you saw his brows climb higher and higher into his hair, and when he looked at you, you forced a smile. "I think it's the right time that we... You know."
"Divorce?" Hongjoong's voice was serious. "Was it because of Hwa?"
Seonghwa, your best friend and your husband's... boyfriend. The both of you have been friends since young. Five years ago, Seonghwa had asked for your help. You will pretend to marry Hongjoong, because both Seonghwa and Hongjoong's parents had opposed to their relationship. You agreed, only because you had a crush on Seonghwa, and wanted him to be happy.
But you fell in love with Hongjoong too.
Hongjoong is a nice man. He is gentle, kind. Seonghwa is the same. Your heart aches, knowing that the two men are not someone that you could have.
Why does it hurt so much?
Why do you have to fall in love with someone that you knew you could never have?
How could you betray Seonghwa's trust? How could you fall in love with your best friend's lover?
"No... Well, it's been five years..." You shrugged, trying your best to sound as nonchalant as possible. "And both mum and dad aren't around anymore..." Hongjoong's parents has passed away the year before. "Besides, I've met someone else." You lied.
Hongjoong's grip on the file tightened. "You've met someone else?" He repeated. "Does Hwa know this?"
You shook your head. "No. But we did put this in the contract. If I ever met someone in the future, I am free to end it."
Hongjoong merely stared. The both of you sat in silence, until he broke it. "I'll talk to Hwa-"
"You don't have to." You said firmly. It took almost all your courage to talk to Hongjoong about this. Once you see Seonghwa, you might finally break down. "I have a plane to Switzerland in two days, so I hope that you would settle this as soon as possible."
"So sudden?" Surprise was filled in Hongjoong's voice. You nodded. "Yeah. So if you sign it now, I'll hand it over to to Attorney Jeong."
Please. Please sign it. If I stay any longer, my heart will break.
"Okay." You almost heave a sigh of relief at Hongjoong's answer. Swiftly, he signed his name on the paper, passing it back to you. "Thanks, Hongjoong."
You stood up to leave, but Hongjoong called you. "Y/n?"
You took a deep breath before turning around. "Yeah?"
Hongjoong shook his head. "Nothing. Stay safe, Y/n. I hope you're happy."
You gave him a bright smile. "You too... Take care of Hwa for me, won't you?"
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Seonghwa had not expected the call from Hongjoong.
"Y/n did what?" He stood up from his chair, his alarmed. "No, reject her. You signed it? Joong! Are you an idiot?"
On the other end of the line, Hongjoong rubbed his temples. "I told you that you shouldn't have let her sign that with me five years ago!" He said, looking towards his office table. At the front of his desk was you in your wedding dress, with him and Seonghwa standing behind you. "If we told her ealier-"
"I can't marry her, you know that!" Seonghwa argued. "If that nasty woman knew I marry the woman I like, she would hurt Y/n just to control me!" He said. "I have to protect Y/n, you know that very well!"
"She told me she's in love with someone else, Hwa." Hongjoong leaned back onto his chair, his voice filled with tiredness. Seonghwa paused, veins popping in his neck. "We've already hindered her happiness for five years. It's time to let her go."
Seonghwa's stepmother was a controlling woman. For years, she had tried to take control over Seonghwa's life. After he took over his late father's company, his ambitious stepmother quickly find ways to sabotage him, so her own son could have the company instead. Knowing that she would try to hurt those around him, Seonghwa approached his other best friend Hongjoong to protect you.
He pretened that he and Hongjoong couldn't be together and wanted you to marry Hongjoong, but it was an excuse. As the wife of the CEO of Kim's Operations, his stepmother would not dare to offend Hongjoong and hurt you.
Little did he know that in the meantime, Hongjoong had fallen in love with you as well. The first time he saw you in that wedding dress... And Hongjoong knew he was head over heels for you. But he was scared to fall in love with you. He knew that Seonghwa likes you, so how could he fall for his bestfriend's crush? So he forced himself to overwork, just to avoid seeing you at home.
"I will stop her." Seonghwa finally spoke, ending the call. Hongjoong put his phone down, letting a long sigh out. "Y/n..."
None of them want to lose you.
Seonghwa grabbed his coat, rushing out of his office. "Secretary Song, prepare for a trip to Attorney Jeong's lawfirm."
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You feel strangely at peace as you left the firm.
The sun was hidden by the clouds as you strolled on the streets. Your phone vibrated, and you took it out.
15 missed calls from Seonghwa.
Ignoring it, you put the phone back into your pocket. You must not let Seonghwa distract you anymore.
It's time to let go, Y/n-ah.
You stood before the traffic lights, waiting for it to turn green. As you waited patiently, a child rushed out from behind you, following by the panicked screams of his mother. You watched in horror as the child rushed into the middle of the oncoming traffic, and without thinking, you went after him, pushing the child into safety. But as you did, a long screech sounded from your left. You turned your head around, only to see a white flashing light of an incoming van...
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"Why is it taking so long?" Seonghwa tapped inpatiently on his thigh. Secretary Song craned his neck in front. "There seemed to be an accident ahead, Boss."
Seonghwa glanced at his watch. He might be able to intercept you if he runs over to the firm now. "I'll alight from here. Pick me up when I call you." He ordered, opening the car door. As he hurried over to the firm, he could see paramedics arriving on the scene, and a police car stopping by the side of the junction near the firm.
"...young woman, such a pity..." A bad feeling swallowed him as he heard two on-lookers whisper. His legs slowed down.
"What happened here?" He hear himself ask one of the on-lookers. The woman sighed, pointing towards a woman and her child, who was wailing loudly. "Her child ran onto the streets and a young woman saved him, but she got hit by the van... Such a young soul..."
Seonghwa was not listening anymore. His heart pounded in his chest as he spotted something on the ground. Like a zombie, Seonghwa made his way towards the warning line, where the police were stopping reporters from taking photos. Seonghwa pushed a reporter out of his way, muttering under his breath.
"Sir, you can't go in!" A policeman stopped him, but Seonghwa could see it now. A phone, with a familiar butterfly charm hanging on it, laid on the ground.
He knew that charm. He made it for you himself.
His ears were ringing, but his voice was calm as he spoke. "I'm the victim's friend." He said. The policemen before him exchanged looks, and allowed him to walk in.
Seonghwa couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He don't know how he did it, walking over to the body that was lying in the body tent.
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Hongjoong frowned.
There was a sudden pain in his heart. His subordinates stop discussing, all looking to him in concern. Noticing the silence, Hongjoong looked up to everyone. "Why did you stop?"
"You look unwell, Sir." Someone spoke. "Would you like to continue the meeting another day?"
Hongjoong placed his hand on his chest. "No." He decided. "Let's continue the meeting."
The meeting continued, and so did the ache.
But Hongjoong didn't know that the ache might last for a longer time.
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sorry not sorry ^^ i've been sick lately, so here's a little fic for you to enjoy!
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➳ pernament taglist: @wonwooz1 @kwanienies @yeodeulz @enhacracy @leyittara @lonewolfjinji @sousydive @joshuahongnumbers
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audaciousacolyte · 5 months
Note
Hi lovely! First of all before I request.. How are you? How have you been? And also, I seriously enjoy your writings, keep up with the good work and ignore all the haters! They're not worth your precious time.
As for the request, could I pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee request Oswald the lucky Rabbit, Bendy and Cuphead x female reader? Like, how would they be as boyfriend or husband head canons. I hope it's not too much darling! Take all the time you need!
Have fun and have a lovely day/night/morning/evening!! <33
♡ My own Mr. Loverman ♡
Oswald the lucky Rabbit, Bendy and Cuphead x reader romantic partner headcanons (separate)
AN: 《|| Hello!! Thank you so much for requesting!!! I'm doing quite well, but I have been busy trying to figure out what exactly I should write. I'm relieved that you enjoy my silly rambling, and I will gladly bring you more in the future!!! However, I'm terribly sorry that I don't post too often. Please be patient with me ;w; ||》
(Boyfriend/husband headcanons)
Cuphead
♡| Cuphead is not exactly what Someone would call boyfriend material…at first.
♡| He's brash, arrogant, and quite literally has zero self control.
♡| However, the thing that makes him boyfriend material is that while it might not seem like it, he's actually a really sensitive guy.
♡| Cups likes to hide behind bravado and anger, but underneath, he cares deeply about the people around him. He just…doesn't really know how to express that.
♡| By the time you are dating, he will definitely try to communicate this… kinda.
♡| (You had thought he was mad at you for the longest time, but no. He's just awful at communicating his emotions.)
☆| Nobody knows how he managed to land you as a partner, but Bendy theorizes that there may have been witchcraft involved. (Felix disagrees, but only because he thinks that you know something that everyone else doesn't…which like, he's not wrong??)
♡| When he does announce that y'all are dating, it's at the most random moment possible. No context, no elaboration. Just.
♡| Y'all are dating now. 🤷‍♀️
☆| (Boris nearly had a heart attack when he first said it, because he genuinely did not expect it. However this was not as bad as when Mugs demanded that he was to be Cups' best man at the wedding.)
♡| Very spontaneous. I would expect a lot of last minute dates to places neither of you have been before.
☆| (Bro once took you to a monster truck rally for your anniversary. He said it "seemed cooler than I thought it would be", when you asked him about it)
♡| He is not only one of the most loyal men on the planet, but he's also incredibly attentive! Any attention you want is given to you, and Cups is more than happy to cuddle up with you any time of the day.
♡| Casually (cough cough he's so nervous please help cough cough) proposes during your 4 year anniversary with a genuine diamond ring. Literally cries when you say yes.
Bendy
♡| The best boyfriend ever. Send Post.
♡| I'm serious though, Bendy is the sweetest boyfriend to have.
♡| Having a bad day? He'll make sure that you get whatever you need to unwind and feel better.
♡| Want to spend some time together? Of course! He'll go set up a movie for the two of you to watch
♡| Can't open something? Don't worry, honey, he can open it for you (♡♡♡swoon♡♡♡)
♡| Whatever comes, through sickness and in health, Bendy will stay by your side for as long as you allow him to.
♡| Can, will and has done everything in his power to give you everything he thinks that you deserve in a partner. Anything you want, you are going to get it.
♡| (The day he proposes is also the day that Boris got tired of listening to his brother gush about you at 4 in the morning and forced him to go get married or he'd tell Felix their tragic backstory (read, he'd tell Felix to sign the damn adoption papers already))
Oswald the lucky Rabbit
♡| When he does propose, it's at a mega-fancy restaurant, and with an intricately carved golden ring. He won't cry when you say yes, but he gets REAL close.
♡| Whether you realize it or not, the two of you have practically been married for like, ever.
♡| Ever since y'all met, you act just like a married couple with how domestic y'all are with each other.
♡| Love at first sight? Nah, MARRIAGE at first sight
♡| Oswald does not notice this at all. He considers you his best friend, and he (loves you) cares about you a lot, but c'mon guys! there is NO WAY he can be in love with you! He's already in love with Ortensia, you know,HIS WIFE?
♡| (Polyamory exists for a REASON Ozzie)
♡| Ortensia would actually be the one to sit him down and talk to him about it, because you and I KNOW that our poor, sweet, dumb bunny boy won't do anything about this.
◇| (Again, like I've said in Oz's general headcanons, she'll be happy if Oswald's happy and if Oswald wants to start a polycule because he's head over heels for his bestie, then she’s okay with it.)
♡| When he does ask you out, and y'all eventually start going steady, he is such a sweetheart. I am a firm believer in hopeless romantic Oswald, and I will die upon this hill.
♡| Any bit of affection is met with really loud purring, and foot thumping.
☆| (Did you know that rabbits can purr? Yeah, neither did I.)
♡♡♡| He and Ortensia team up and propose to you at the same time with matching silver rings, each with their name carved on the inside. They both tackle-hug you to the ground when you say yes
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