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itostea · 1 year ago

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rings (gojo x wife! reader)

in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring

warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list

There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee.

Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that.

“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”

You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”

“On the same bed?”

“Yes?”

“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”

“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.

Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”

You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”

“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.

“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”

“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”

“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”

They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”

“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”

“That’s not really my way of doing things…”

Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”

You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.

Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”

You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”

“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”

“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited.

By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy.

You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?”

“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”

“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food.

The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”

Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”

He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table.

He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”

All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”

“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”

“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey.

It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”

Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”

You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own.

“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch.

He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”

“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.

Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!”

You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”

“Because I just can’t!”

“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly.

“I can’t ‘Toru–”

“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”

You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”

You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”

He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”

You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well

It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo–the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.

You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing.

You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart.

His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”

Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave.

It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts.

“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!”

And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.

tags:

@maliamaiden, @dookiemeshibear, @icarusignite, @padsgrlly, @katiaesmeralda, @mooncleaver, @jcrml, @istanuwow, @stilinskispjo, @hjjjbb, @delulusuga, @hellogoog, @scrumdillyyumyumpurr, @wordskeeper, @rampagingroses, @demiwizardvampire145, @haikyuusimpsblog, @esmeensheep, @msunknown911, @saebeary, @mysuperrainbow, @scarletevening, @tedbunny333, @tulips-ss, @primapoppy, @realboysrdumb, @ems-tumbo, @a-cloudy-dreamy-day, @evalynanne, @kaiisers, @trisisbasic, @luna0713hunter, @arisucat, @honili, @dovahkiinsbitch, @porridgesblog, @siennahsteaparty, @dee-dreams-and-stuff, @satoruskitchenrag, @moonmalice, @junglewoos, @thisbicc, @heartsoji, @mysticmyth, @phoenixforgotten, @sillygoosegoose, @the-mad-hatress, @kairuthewriter, @batmansleftfoot

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #fluff #arranged marriage #gojo’s wife series

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beegomess · 4 months ago

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Your marriage with them || Slytherin Boys

Summary: This time, the title describes it well… Warnings: None.

Requests are open!

Blaise Zabini

It was on a sunny afternoon, at one of the idyllic country estates of the Zabini family, that your wedding with Blaise came to life. The setting, though unpretentious, exuded a serene elegance. The estate was situated on a vast property, surrounded by green fields stretching as far as the eye could see. The ceremony took place outdoors, under a clear blue sky, with subtle decor that appeared natural and unpretentious, yet it was evident that every detail had been carefully chosen.

The altar was a simple structure, adorned with white and green flowers that blended perfectly with the surroundings. The chairs, arranged in elegant lines, were dressed in soft-toned linen fabrics, creating a pleasant contrast with the green field backdrop. The sound of birds singing and the gentle breeze completed the tranquil and intimate atmosphere of the event.

The guests, many of whom were close friends and family, appreciated the sophisticated simplicity of the setting. The reception featured an outdoor dinner with refined dishes served informally, allowing everyone to feel at ease. The day concluded with a sunset celebration, marked by lively conversations and laughter, in an environment where elegance met natural beauty.

Draco Malfoy

The wedding with Draco was a spectacle of grandeur and tradition, reflecting the prestige and magnitude of the families involved. The ceremony took place in a splendidly decorated church, whose interior was an imposing example of classical architecture. The environment was filled with luxury and refinement: crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting a soft light over the meticulously crafted details.

The altar, adorned with opulent floral arrangements in shades of white and gold, seemed like an extension of the church itself, harmonizing with the columns and walls embellished with marble details and gold frames. The main aisle was filled with guests, all dressed in their finest attire, giving the event a royal air. The sound of organ music filled the space, creating a solemn and majestic atmosphere.

The reception was equally grand, held in the main hall of the Malfoy family estate, distinguished by its refined decor and luxurious details. Guests enjoyed an exquisite banquet and danced to the music of a live orchestra. Every moment of the wedding was planned to emphasize the significance of the occasion and the connection between the families, creating a celebration that will be remembered as a milestone of elegance and prestige.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Your wedding with Lorenzo Berkshire took place in a serene field, immersed in the simplicity and natural beauty that characterize the Berkshire family aesthetic. The location was carefully chosen to offer a tranquil and elegant setting, with robust trees and blooming white flowers.

The ceremony was held outdoors, with a simple yet sophisticated altar, decorated with white and green floral arrangements that complemented the natural palette of the field. The chairs, arranged in a semicircle, were dressed with linen covers and ribbons in neutral tones, blending with the surroundings. The blue sky and gentle sun created a pleasant and calm atmosphere for the celebration.

The reception followed the same refined simplicity, with an outdoor dinner served under elegantly decorated tents. The menu included light and sophisticated dishes prepared with fresh, high-quality ingredients. The overall atmosphere was one of relaxation and intimate celebration, with friends and family enjoying a natural and elegant setting where the beauty of the field complemented the discreet sophistication of the occasion.

Mattheo Riddle

The wedding with Mattheo had to be conducted quickly and practically, reflecting the urgency with which both of you wanted to seal the union. The ceremony took place in a small and cozy garden at the back of one of his family's houses. The decor, done in a hurry, was simple but had a touch of homey charm.

The space was decorated with field flowers and candles, creating an intimate and warm environment. The ceremony area was improvised with an arch of white and green flowers, giving the place a fresh look. Simple wooden chairs were arranged around the makeshift altar, where the vows were exchanged.

The few friends present shared a simple feast, with homemade food and drinks. The celebration was marked by a sense of urgency and love, with everyone present understanding the importance and intensity of the moment. The simplicity of the event reflected Mattheo's and your desire to unite quickly, and even in its simplicity, the love and dedication were clearly present.

Theodore Nott

The wedding took place at the end of a golden afternoon, in a seaside garden belonging to a majestic house on the coast. The setting was breathtaking, with the deep blue sea shimmering under the soft light of the setting sun.

The garden was adorned with natural and refined decor, with white flowers and green arrangements that enhanced the beauty of the environment. The chairs were arranged in a semicircle configuration, offering panoramic views of the sea and the sunset-lit horizon. The altar, simple yet elegant, was framed by a curtain of flowers and leaves, matching the garden’s color palette.

The ceremony was enveloped in a warm glow, as the last rays of sun reflected on the sea, creating a magical and romantic atmosphere. The reception continued outdoors, with a sophisticated dinner served under a large tree, where guests enjoyed the spectacular view and relaxed ambiance. The combination of the natural setting with elegant details created a dreamlike scene, capturing the essence of love and glamour.

Tom Riddle

The wedding with Tom was an urgent and symbolic celebration, held in the Chamber of Secrets, a location that, despite its dark and mysterious character, became the backdrop for a deeply personal and significant moment. The ceremony had to be conducted quickly due to the need to remain hidden, but Tom insisted that all the elements he wanted be present.

The Chamber was temporarily transformed with simple but effective decor. Magical torches cast a soft light on the stone walls, and a series of white candles were placed around the makeshift altar. Discreet floral arrangements, consisting of white lilies and dark flowers, were positioned at strategic points, providing an elegant contrast to the somber environment.

The few carefully selected guests were present to witness the union, marked by sincere vows and a sense of urgency. The ceremony was brief and intense, reflecting both the gravity of the situation and Tom’s deep desire to seal the union as quickly as possible. Despite the improvised decor and unusual setting, the moment was filled with significance, with Tom ensuring that every detail reflected his commitment and desire to build a future together, regardless of the circumstances.

_______________________________

masterlist

I loved writing this, and I hope you enjoyed it too!!

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

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absolutebl · 9 months ago

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BLs with Strong Historical Elements

Costume dramas, historical BLs, and BLs with time travel or flashbacks to historical locations & times.

These are in order of my personal preference, best at the top.

I Feel You Linger in the Air

2023 Thailand

IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). It's about a gay man from our time who falls into the past, becomes a servant to a noble house, and falls in love with the heir. It turns out this has all happened several times before. Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but not as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy soulmates BL... from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and as individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show could easily have earned a 10/10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls in the final quarter. Argh. Whatever.

Nobleman Ryu's Wedding

2021 Korea - WeTV

A boy cross-dresses to take his runaway sister's place as a bride to a shy scholar, turns out they like being married. A historical setting allowed this BL to use some seriously old fashioned romance tropes (arranged marriage, evil step-sisters, Cinderfella) but also modern BL stylings like fake relationship & secret identity (drag) plus some cute gay panic. It reminded me of 12th Night more than anything else which just happens to be my favorite Shakespeare play. For all these reasons, I adored it.

(the ghat kiss!)

Tinted With You

2022 Korea - Viki

Fun stylish time travel meets portal fantasy with a likable cast, historical setting, and two actual kisses that mitigate the rough plot and issues around anachronisms.

Word of Honor

2021 China (censored) - Viki/YouTube?

I don’t rec Chinese stuff often, because I believe in censoring the censors, but this show is one of my favorites of the post 2016 censored bromances. It’s two murder-gay assassins (pining sunshine/tsundere), and they are so insanely gay for two boys who will never be allowed to kiss. Tropes include: wuxia, soulmates, paranormal, historical, and fantasy elements.

To Sir, With Love AKA Khun Chai

2022 Thailand - YouTube?

This is a true lakorn (basically Thai tellenovella or soap opera) with scenery chewing performances, especially from the mother characters. Gone With the Wind + Days of Our Lives but gay. That said? I loved it: A glorious central brother relationship (the best, made me cry), het romances, class divide + gay *gasp* main romance - oh my word, the campy drama of it all! Arranged marriage, rebellion, cut sleeves, over-the-top death with curses and regrets, beautiful if inaccurate costumes, secrets unraveling, cover ups, sparkle murder, sex herbs, coils within coils including snakes and murderous green metallic sequins (is anything gayer on this earth?). It’s a WILD ride but it does end happy for our gay boys. A man cries when he finds DEATH GLITTER. Come on! You haffa watch it. That said, like Manner of Death I struggle to rate something on a BL scale when it patently isn’t a BL. So I ended up giving this exactly what I gave that show, 7/10 I enjoyed it a whole lot, but not as a BL.

The Untamed (Special BL Edition)

2020 China (censored) - YouTube

Censored wuxia bromance, amorphous ending. Probubly the best known BL of its kind out of China and responsible for bring many fans to the BL side.

Our Skyy 2: Never Let Me Go

2023 Thailand - YouTube

I was nervous to watch this PondPhuwin vehicle but I liked it a lot! Doomed soulmates + paranormal time travel to fix the past. I’m happy for the outfits and the dancing (if not the singing). It’s not a bad premise and it’s nice to see GMMTV lean into its high production values for a change. I'd adore a full historical starring these two and this was definitely the best of the second series of Our Skyy. I don't think you have to have watched the original Never Let Me Go to enjoy this.

Legend of Long Yang: Rebirth

2017 China

Gaga

Whipping boy trope... literally, servant character takes the strap for the prince, who then makes him his bodyguard and lover when he becomes king. Low budget historical, comes off as kind of cosplay wuxia version of Irresistible Love, but we get (in the credits) an actual kiss, and they both live. So yay for small mercies.

The Director Who Buys Me Dinner

2023 Korea (historical flash backs)

iQIYI

A new employee at a film company encounters a director who claims to have lived 300 years and insists that they have to date (eat, hug & kiss) if baby doesn't want to die. It has a lot of Japanese elements, not the least of which are: an office setting, the fact that every character in this show is unhinged, and a killing of the gays. Featuring a gorgeous & stellar cast, TDWBMD should have utilized them less for melodrama and more for chemistry. This BL surprised me by going there with a lipstick mark AND an actually gay idol. But (you knew there was a but) while it's a unique twist on an office romance it is NOT a unique twist on the doomed red thread trope, resulting in it feeling less than the sum of its parts and ultimately unsatisfying. This might have also had to do with the fact that this was one of those KBLs where I felt how very short it was the whole time I was watching, like I was missing something constantly, in every episode. Worth watching for some but seriously flawed.

First Love Again

2022 Korea (historical flash backs) - Viki

A popular novelist who remembers his past lives meets his soulmate for the third time, only to find she has been reincarnated into the body of a man. This one started out a touch mean-spirited, but we eventually got a good kiss. The confession/rejection scene was justified and the reconciliation and ending was... fine. All in all, the pacing felt rushed and the romantic arc was underdeveloped. They go from like to love to boyfriends in a red hot minute. But that’s par for the course with Korea’s short form. If you don’t mind a heavy does of melodrama in your BL this one has a solid story with a strong concept that’s well acted and produced, making it a classic KBL with better than average chemistry but ultimately a touch forgettable.

Love in Spring AKA Spring of Crush

2022 Korea

This show was all over the place with uneven acting, narrative, and focus (sometimes it wanted to be a slapstick comedy, sometimes a depressing melodrama) which meant no one, actors or viewers, took anyone or anything seriously.... AND it’s a bromance. I was left wondering if SalHyung is now code for “they were roommates” in Kdrama historicals but otherwise largely apathetic and unimpressed. Korea, I now know you can do better. Do better.

Mermaid's Jade

2019 China (censored-esk) - Gaga

Kills the gay.

The Male Queen: Han Zi Gao

2016 China - Gaga

Kills the gay. Schrodinger's BL, both a BL and entirely not one at the same time.

Diary of Heong Yeong Dang

2014 Korea

Kills the Gay

I was gonna do a top 10 list, but there aren't enough by my metrics, so many end sadly.

This post at the behest of @verymuchof thank you for the idea!

Dated April 2023, includes only BLs that had finished their run by that date. Not responsible for cool costume flix that come after that. But you should check the comments to see if any have been added by others!

I might have missed a few that only have time historical elements since I don't always track those.

Also I would like to point out a decided lack of Japan on this list. My ninja yaoi consuming tiny past self is VERY upset about this void.

WHERE ARE MY GAY NINJAS??!!!

(source)

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jiminjamms · 1 year ago

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sex therapy :: 25. messed up

chapter tags/warnings: naoya fucks toji's ex-wife again. aggressive sex. creampie-ing. misogynistic! naoya. hurt/comfort. naoya views women as nothing but a hole. broken marriage. heavy angst. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. manipulation undertones. corruption.

word count: 4.1k

notes: thank you always for all the support! on to the plot for our final arc! this beginning excerpt is a rewording from a line in “spy x family” (any fans out there?) that i believe captures the dynamics in our characters as well. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

❝ Every person has a self that one conceals, a side not shown to anyone else. Not to friends. Not to lovers. Not even to family. Behind lies and painted smiles, individuals shield their true natures and desires…and, in doing so, the world thus maintains its thin veneer of peace. ❞

Who in the world was Toji Zenin?

The Toji that you had always known was Toji Fushiguro, so what was your husband’s cognomen doing besides your sex therapist’s first name on the latter's university diploma?

Even Google seemed to deny that Toji Zenin existed.

Showing results instead for ‘Toji Fushiguro.’

No, that was not what you wanted!

One step forward in understanding this enigmatic man might as well be three steps backward because, each time you thought you had learned something about him, you only come to the realization that nothing much had been discovered at all.

But as investigations via search engines, social media sites, and Wikipedia pages proved futile, sources that could quell your curiosity dwindled.

So, you turned to your last resort.

“Who’s Toji Zenin?”

“What—”

Across from you, the raspberry macaron in Mai’s hand stopped by her lips as the girl snapped her focus from the pastry to your unanticipated question, with Maki visibly turning stiff in the adjacent chair. The three of you sat surrounding a small table in the twin’s private lounge, located in the northern wing within the Zenin residence.

Visiting the central family property was not uncommon ever since your engagement and wedding earlier this year, but the architecture would never fail to impress you. The mansion itself resembled the Imperial Palace more than anything—an edificial centerpiece defined by the elegance and simplicity inherent in traditional Japanese design, with latticework embellishing the wooden exterior and, inside, carefully painted doors opening into tatami rooms.

Given that Mai and Maki were back in Tokyo for their summer breaks from universities abroad, the sisters established themselves as your close friends and had brought you into their tea room, adorned with European furnishings that would come off as atypical compared to the Japanese heirlooms elsewhere in the residence. On the table sat an imported tea set from England, at the center a French-inspired pastry tower prepared with caramel-topped croquembouches, chocolate-covered profiteroles, and the like.

In great admiration, the sisters had been barraging you with inquiries about your life back in your bachelorette days, asking about your volunteering trip to the Philippines or the charity auctions in Dubai.

Now, with the shift in discussion, the sisters exchanged an uneasy look.

An entire conversation appeared to be held in the way they traded glances. The usual sparkle in their eyes faded, which must mean the girls were remarkably uncomfortable, but Mai forced a polite smile as she placed down her macaron.

“Y/N,” she began carefully, “May we ask how you know Toji?”

Even though she tried to spin the question as casual curiosity, her apprehension could not be more obvious.

“I don’t know him, really,” you lied. While dishonesty went against your morals, watching the twins’ shoulders fall with relief was enough to assuage the guilt. “He’s just…” My friend, to put things in the mildest terms. “He’s just a name I have heard. That’s all.”

Maki dabbed at her mouth with a lace handkerchief, not making a big deal as she added, “Toji’s a cousin.”

So, the Zenin last name on his diploma was not a coincidence at all.

Such a groundbreaking discovery should have thrown you into a whole whirlwind but, to be frank, the realization did not come off as too surprising at all. If anything, Toji as a member of the Zenin family was the perfect explanation to why Toji seemed so astute, why he would talk like he knew more about Naoya than you, and—as Geto had once said—why Toji was ‘not where he could possibly be.’

While Toji’s reason for opting for the Fushiguro name remained a mystery, what you did know now was that he was indeed affiliated with the twins before you by blood, which—by extension—must mean that Toji would also be a cousin to…

…your husband.

Wait.

An unsettling chill ran down your spine.

“Cousins, as in,” part of you didn’t want to know the answer, “distant cousins? Or…?”

“No,” the older twin interjected matter-of-factly, not knowing the full background behind your seemingly innocuous question. “First cousins.”

Ah, so the closest type of cousins possible, which was exactly what you had hoped not to hear. With this additional information, you tried to hide the clamminess in your palms. What would be the best word to describe this void now? Did you feel disappointed? Misled? Betrayed? Toji certainly had known that you were wed to his younger cousin, yet he willingly chose to hide his background as he kissed you, touched you, and fucked you.

A reversal from your sentiments before, you currently felt both disgusted and hurt.

Why did Toji keep this information from you? What sick person derived satisfaction from having sex with his first cousin’s wife? You were so damn stupid for placing all your trust in him. Looking at the situation now, he was just another iteration of the same manipulative and disrespectful man you had been trying so hard to avoid.

“Are you close with Toji?”

Mai shook her head. “No. We don’t talk to him anymore.” Her comment struck as odd. Anymore? Had they once been, then? Before you could ask, her gaze darted around in caution before she leaned forward and said lowly, “For your information, Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.”

That’s quite recent.

You understood that Mai and Maki had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped as they did not want to slander the family heir in front of his wife. Blissful ignorance was what the twins must be thinking, hoping to preserve the peace between you and your husband. However, what you had yet to reveal was the broken marriage that had been masked for everyone’s sake, disguised by a pretense that all was well.

Which was why, on that note, the timing could not have been more perfect as a tall young man with ombre hair and hazel eyes flung open the door in one unforgiving slam, rattling the fine china and startling the seated individuals inside.

“There you are, you whore!”

Your eyes widened with shock upon seeing Naoya Zenin in the entryway, your husband’s scowl icy and malicious. He came stomping toward you as his eyes held a dangerous hostility that was impossible to ignore, and you could oddly sense an impending doom when he stormed with zero regard for anything in his path, kicking aside a potted plant and toppling over a ceramic vase.

Standing up, you tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mashed brain.

Today was Tuesday.

Was he not supposed to be at work?

“Naoya,” you began calmly, cognizant of the onlooking sisters behind you, “this is not the right place to—”

“You’re such a fucking desperate bitch, aren’t you?” His words were sharp and bitter, his glare filled with hatred like a fire doused with gasoline. Before you could request clarification, he stopped steps away and swung his right hand up, pressing a black business card to your stunned face, the paper crinkled from his intense grip and rendering you petrified in your stance.

No, this couldn’t be…

From your peripheral view, you watched Mai and Maki place their hands over their open mouths as they read Toji Fushiguro’s calligraphed name on the business card that also had in obvious words: 'sex therapist.' Shame racked your stomach. Merely minutes ago, you convinced the twins that Toji was to you nothing more than a name, and now, karma bit you back like a bitch.

With your voice evaporated, you croaked.

“Where did you find that?” You had been sure that you placed the badge away.

Naoya used his anger to crumple the card and tossed the now useless paper ball to the side. “In your purse,” he gritted, “How long were you planning to hide this from me?”

The ensuing guilt suffocated you. “I—” I don’t know.

Sensing the weakness in your will, Naoya burst into a maniacal laughter that cracked through the air, creating a disconcerting symphony. He bent forward, shoulders convulsing with every diabolic and mirthful guffaw.

“You’re so god fucking pathetic, woman. Do you have any idea who Toji Fushiguro is? That bastard is Toji Zenin, you ignorant slut—he is my cousin. Well, I guess I never told you about him, though, because he doesn’t fucking matter anymore anyway. I don’t know how you ended up crossing paths with him, but this is hilarious!” The man kept cackling and roaring like he had gone insane. “Were you two brewing shit about me? Actually, let me guess since you’d gotten hold of this business card: did you have sex with him? Did you have sex with Toji? Going around fucking your husband and then your husband’s cousin is nothing to be proud of. Tell me, did you meet the other sex therapists as well? Did you get stretched out by them, too? Whose dick did you like best? Whose? Whose? Is that what you like, being passed around and used like some sick trophy? What a fucking animal! How dare you disrespect our marriage. How dare you disrespect your own hus—”

Your hand lashed out before you could suppress the impulse and delivered one resounding slap across Naoya’s face. You watched him shut up and stumble backward, clutching his cheek.

"Ow!"

For a moment, the world seemed frozen still: the sisters gaping in complete stupefaction, your husband staring at the ground wide-eyed, and you heaving from the incoming emotional onslaught.

”How dare you…How fucking dare you disrespect me!” The coalescence of anger, agony, and resentment—bottled up in your heart for months upon months—was now being released as you dissolved into tears. “What the hell is wrong with you?! How could you say such messed up things? You are sick in the head, Naoya, you know that? Out of respect for myself, how could I possibly respect you?!” The only sound echoing in the room became your uncontrollable cries, sobs that escaped past your lips in raw and muffled bursts. Torn apart by sorrow, you could hardly breathe from how constricted your throat had become, your knees wobbling and weak. “Y-You have no idea how lonely and miserable I have been since I walked down that aisle. For the past six months, you—as my husband—have done absolutely nothing but make me feel like a rat in my own home, a mistress in my own marriage!”

“Fantastic! Exactly what I wanted to hear, I am glad I have made your life horrible!” Naoya snarled, not caring for how everyone else’s eyes widened at the scathing statement. Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. Did your husband really just say that to your face? He could not give a shit that you wept pitifully, instead catching your shaky wrist in the tightest grasp possible as he added on, “My only regret is that I had not made your life even worse.”

“What the fuck!” you heard Mai gasp as a gut reaction.

What the fucking fuck, indeed.

While you had been subject to Naoya’s verbal harassment during these many weeks, for him to tell you that he wished he had tortured you further was beyond heartless. The searing ache that burned your skin might as well be fatal because your respiration turned erratic like someone had trapped you inside a bubble.

Hyperventilating, you subsisted on shallow gasps.

“Don’t go around thinking that you’re any better, alright? You’re calling me pathetic for sleeping with your cousin, but have you considered that I had been placed in that position because, since the start, you’ve been cheating on your wife?”

Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears from your lachrymose eyes. Now, Mai and Maki must truly be appalled at all these revelations. What happened to the fairy-tale marriage you had told them about? Well, that never existed to begin with, and with these thoughts in mind, you found a sadistic satisfaction in watching your lawful spouse fume with deep-seated rage.

“That’s right,” you mused with derision, “we’ve been two sides of the same coin all along.”

Naoya clenched his hands at his sides, disgusted to have been compared to you. “Do not put me on the same level as—”

“No. No, you don't get to talk! All you have done since we have been married is for you to talk and complain and bitch about everything, but now, this is my turn,” you screamed in return. “I…I hate you!” and you pointed right at him, “In fact, I despise you. You never tried to see what I had to tolerate to stay with an asshole like yourself because you had been too busy sticking your dick into another woman while you could hardly look at me! No wonder your cousins worried about me. No wonder Toji told me to file for a divorce. Because you, Naoya Zenin, are a total piece of shit!”

His momentary pause hinted at the tiniest self-actualization that flickered within him. Perhaps he finally realized how you had been feeling now that you freely spat out all the turmoil that had been chaining your soul. He took one additional step toward you, torn between whether he should keep up with his anger or succumb to remorse for hurting you.

But, knowing this man, he—of course—opted for the former.

“I never,” he seethed lowly, “wanted this marriage.”

Maybe you truly have become deranged or maybe you genuinely found his statement funny, for you began to emit tearful cackles in your laughter.

“Now, that is one big fucking lie.” Since your earliest encounter, Toji had suggested that Naoya solely regarded you as nothing more than ‘a sweet, innocent fuck,’ and the longer you had stayed with your husband, the more you began to acknowledge how these accusations were all true. “We all know that you’re going to be nothing without me. A CEO who could hardly keep his wife for half a year? What a loser. What makes you believe that I wanted to be married to you? Who do you even think would want to do business with you after this? You never had respect in the real world because all that respect rests upon me.”

While you never fully understood Naoya, your words must have snapped a particular chord in him because he suddenly lunged forward.

“Fucking cunt—”

But before he could get too close, you darted away from him. “Don’t touch me!” you shrieked, voice shrill from the top of your lungs. “Do not ever touch me again. If you want to lay your dirty hands on someone, go touch your girlfriend instead!”

That’s right, he had another woman who he doted on far more than he could appreciate you. This wedding band, this engagement ring on your left hand meant absolutely nothing. Toji had been spot on—why the hell did you cling onto stupid shit like this, twisting the jewelry as if that would save your messed-up union? Without further empathy, you slid off the two rings and hurled them toward your husband’s chest before the circlets clinked upon hitting the ground.

At first, Naoya scoffed. He watched the ludicrous scene with a comical gaze, and when his brain processed what he just saw, he quickly fell onto his knees. All at once, he tossed his head back and let out a chortle—a full-bodied cachinnation that took the room completely aback—as his hysteria mounted.

“Good, good, good!” His screeches were like those of a maniac, his chuckles haunting, throaty, and lacking in sanity. “I’m glad that you’ve come to show the witch that you have been all along! Look at yourself! No wonder no one wanted you!”

Unable to be a bystander any longer, Mai stood up and hurled toward her cousin. “Shut the hell up, Naoya!”

But the said man was quick, using one powerful movement to punch the older twin first. “You shut the hell up, scum. Unless you want to be pummeled to the point where people will feel sorry to look in your direction.”

“Watch what you say!” and when Naoya turned to the new voice, the evil glint gleaming from his brown eyes appeared ablaze.

“Oh? Someone’s bold, too. Shall I bully you first then, Maki?” the timbre in his disdainful laugh crescendoed into unhinged amusement. “Say one more word, little girl,” he taunted, his imp-like face riddled with mockery. “C’mon. I dare you. I will throw you into the courtyard and beat your ugly face up. That’ll bring back warm memories from the good old days, huh?”

The younger twin gritted her teeth, her sister reaching for her arm as a signal to back down and stay levelheaded.

Meanwhile, once Naoya rose from the floor, he nonchalantly kicked at the rings because those emblems of your union had always been meaningless garbage anyway.

“If wanted to leave this badly, then fucking leave,” he deadpanned, his tone the calmest he had been this whole time. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Those were your husband’s last words as he walked away, leaving you sobbing and shuddering with a lost soul and sore heart. While weeping and gasping, you had to endure watching his figure fade from view, all while wanting to stop the uncomfortable distress that heightened with his departure. You were huffing, panting, trying to stop your trembling.

The second Naoya slammed the door behind him, Maki ran up to your side and embraced your shaking form, all while you bawled and clutched at yourself. Her expression remained strong, but her palms were damp as they pressed onto your back, her arms quavering slightly as she soothed your cries.

“Sh, don’t cry. My sister and I are here, okay? Mai and I will protect you. Everything will be alright.”

Despite her reassurances, she sounded nearly as broken as you appeared, especially when your hand violently trembled because nothing could save you from the agony that drowned your tattered soul. You felt the disgusting urge to throw up—you were completely broken inside. In a futile attempt, you sought to regulate your breaths with one deep inhale.

Yet, at some point, Maki peeled back and she mouthed something.

Was she talking to you?

Why…why could you not hear her?

She sounded so muffled, as though you were underwater.

Why did everything sound so far away?

With your throat constricted, you could not breathe. Gagging. Gasping. Big, huge gulps of air, but the oxygen failed to enter your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. You could not fucking breathe.

You gripped the fabric by your chest and your other hand sought for something else to hold, but you ended up on the ground anyway. Choking. Coughing. Was something foaming at your mouth? Something warm and wet spilled from your orifices. Were you vomiting? Why were you vomiting?

Holding your body upright, Maki was the only reason that you had not remained on the floor like a fool, but even she stared at you with concern and…horror? Why did she look so scared? Was she screaming? She looked like she was screaming, but her face appeared all contorted like you were looking at her through a fish-eye lens.

After a while, you could not even see her or her sister anymore because your vision turned spotty and then black.

See!

Open your eyes, and see!

Why could you not see?

When your hearing returned to some degree, the sounds that filled your ears were frantic shouts and endless clamor.

“Call Toji! He’ll know what to do. Hurry, where is your phone?” It was Mai. Scrambling. Bags were being opened. Items being tossed. “Call Toji, now!”

A phone started to ring.

Buzzes and buzzes and more buzzes as the waiting intensified.

Then voicemail.

Hello, this is Toji Fushiguro.

“He is not picking up!”

Unfortunately, I am unable to pick up the phone right now.

“Get…”

But please leave your name and number—

“Get Megumi.”

—and I will return your call as soon as possible.

“What about Tusmiki?”

“Tsumiki is still in London at university, idiot! Call…Call Megumi!”

“Okay. I know, I know! I’m calling him already!” someone screamed back. Was this Mai? Was this Maki? You could no longer tell, but the same person shouted, “Wait, wait. He is calling back. Toji is calling me back.”

“Then pick up the phone!”

“Toji…” one of the twins started, the cracks in her tone making her sound like she was weeping too, and her words composed your last bits of memory before the world dissolved completely. “Please…help us.”

Even labeling Naoya Zenin as ballistic would be far too much of an understatement.

The rage, wrath, and sheer indignation that swelled in his every capillary surpassed the twenty-five years' worth of virulent rancor that he had for his fucked-up family.

Since when did you get so goddamn arrogant? Naoya wanted to hurt you, ruin you, and do everything in his power to sabotage you.

Not just you, though. Because that would be too easy.

But also his father, his cousins, his ex-coworkers, and—most importantly—Toji.

Such ill feelings were what led the Zenin CEO to practically leap into the Mercedes-Benz that awaited him at the entrance to his family home, and he immediately ordered his chauffeur to press on the pedal toward a very certain condominium several kilometers away.

Fifteen minutes later, a very surprised Mari opened her door and an enraged Naoya greeted her, shoving her against the wall and colliding his lips into hers for a fierce kiss. His actions lacked passion, only charged with aggression as he stripped her and threw her onto the living room sofa. He could hardly care that he treated the woman as though she was nothing more than a prostitute, while the latter mistook her boyfriend’s rage for desperation, and she begged for him to pull at her hair and force his tongue down her mouth.

At some point, Naoya drove his mistress’s face into the couch cushion and dragged her hips to have her ass raised high. He was too clouded by fury and too blinded by anger to think twice before he forcefully penetrated the woman. He fucked her raw and held her close, jostling her body as though she was a ragdoll, eliciting her loudest mewls that cried for his name.

“J-Just like that!” she whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pummeled into her dripping hole, paying no mercy for destroying her with his ruthless pace. Her knees gave out from under her, and she crumbled from the sofa and into the carpet, only for him to tumble too to follow the socket he needed to keep his dick soaked.

“I need to break you,” he hissed.

Fuck, he was going to come soon.

His nails left crescent marks on her flesh, his hands burning her scalp as he tugged her strands and met her buttocks with hard thrusts, and he knew he was going to come.

Feeling the first of his seed trick into his mistress’s life-giving cavern, he toyed with the idea of giving Tsumiki and Megumi a baby sibling. That would be fun. He could then imagine the subsequent mortified reactions from his deplorable cousin and from his wretched wife (whom he would hardly call himself married to anymore, anyway). The fantasies, everything that he would do to spite those who had wronged him, had Naoya cackling as his viscous cum spurted from his tip and deep into his mistress’s womb.

He pulled out once he made sure that every single drop had been milked from him, his ejaculate dribbling from her pussy like someone had taken a bite from a cream-filled donut.

Rolling into the carpet and onto her back, a panting Mari took two fingers and pressed his precious seed back into her cunt. “That was so hot.” A lazy smile pulled across her face. “Thank you for the unexpected visit.”

Naoya completely dismissed her comments as he tucked himself back into his pants, not in the right mood to respond.

“Cool. Clean this mess up,” he demanded instead, “I’m leaving for work.”

He ignored the woman’s ensuing pleas to stay at least five minutes longer. Unlike her, he had better things to do, and he rushed out as he fetched his phone from his back pocket and surveyed for any messages he might have missed while he had been away.

But when he turned on his screen, his most recent notification had his blood turn cold.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: The absolute fury in the argument, the complete panic between the twins, and the maniacal temperament in our husband…so much packed in this chapter! If you can’t tell already, my favorite POV to write from is Naoya’s, ha. Also, I took some creative liberty here to convey the intense emotions, so let me know what you think! Hugs to all.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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joongieology · 20 days ago

Text

Muse | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Artist!Boyfriend!WooyoungxReader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: mention of naked body

Sypnosis: Your boyfriend has been busy with his gallery, leaving you missing him. One thing you didn't know though, he had a surprise waiting for you.

Note: This is the first ever fanfic I've written. English is not my first language so please bear with me. If you have any feedback, please let me know! I swear I tried ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

¡Disclaimer: The following content is a work of fiction and does NOT represent the written member in any way!

You've been dating Wooyoung for a few years now. Everything is well, better than you could ask for, but you wish you could move on to the next stage. You've always dreamt of getting married in a church since you were a little girl. Striving hard so you can save up for a grand wedding, wanting you and your future husband's day to be extra special. And now, you finally found the man you want to marry.

You met Wooyoung through your college friend, San. You went to get coffee at your usual hangout place—a café near the university—when you saw San with someone. You proceeded to where they were sitting and San invited you to sit with them.

That was the day you met Wooyoung, and that was also the day you started liking him. He was very chatty and he always made you laugh that you started to have a little crush on him. The three of you began to hang out more often, and then one day, he asked you out. You said yes, of course (who wouldn't), and you've been dating since then.

He had always been fond of art. Painting, photography, and even sculpting. He wanted to have his own gallery one day, to show off his works, and it is about to come true.

Wooyoung found a decent place where he could set up the gallery and renovate it to his liking. He was the one who worked on everything, claiming he wanted everything to be perfect. That meant, you don't see each other often because he got busy with his gallery. He never told anyone the location, not even you, which you found a little odd, but never questioned him.

You just finished eating when he showed you something on his phone. It's a map with a picture of what looks like the outside of a gallery.

"It's done. The grand opening will be tomorrow." He started, gauging for your reaction.

"Already?! Does anyone else know about this? What if I'm the only one who shows up?" You flooded him with questions, more nervous than he is.

"Don't worry, I already sent out invitations to friends and family." He said with a chuckle while piching your cheeks, clearly amused.

You sighed, relieved that you wouldn't be the only one to witness this. You want the world to see how talented your boyfriend is, and he worked hard for everything to get to this point. Even though he said this was just a small achievement, you were still so proud of him. He can finally show off his love for art.

-~-

"You're here." Wooyoung said as he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You came a bit earlier than the time of the opening so you could be by his side.

"Finally, you got your own gallery. I'm so proud of you, Woo." You gave him a peck on the lips, earning you a small genuine smile from him.

You straightened the collar of his button-up and fixed his hair a bit to make him look more presentable. He smiled at you but you noticed that he looked a bit nervous. You held his hand and squeezed it, comforting him. He intertwined your fingers and guided you to the entrance.

After a while, people started to arrive one by one, family and friends, and even some random people who had taken an interest in what was happening in this new place.

Everyone was in awe at the simple yet elegant interior. The walls were off-white and the art pieces were placed perfectly. Everything is in the right place, the way they were arranged was pleasing to the eyes.

You looked around and noticed that the art pieces consisted of pictures and paintings of places very familiar to you—they were places you've been together before. There are also pictures and paintings of events that have transpired in your life. The memories came flooding in as you looked at each art piece. You looked around once more, you noticed a black screen in the middle of the gallery. It's off, what is it for? You asked yourself but brushed it off. One thing stood out though, it was a pink door leading to a room. It had its own spotlight, it also had a name on top, just like every piece here.

"Y/N." You read out loud. Why did it have your name on it? Also, why is it pink, your favorite color? And why does it have the word 'Private' beside the door?

Wooyoung was greeting everyone and thanking them for congratulating him when he noticed you looking at the pink door. He walked over to you and put his hand on your lower back.

"Wanna see what's inside?"

"Yes." You responded, curious as to what could be inside.

He took out what seemed like a remote from his pocket and pressed something on it while guiding you inside.

There were at least five of what you assumed were art pieces covered in red velvet blankets.

He removed the cover of the one on the left, revealing a painting of you grinning from ear to ear, holding a pack of your favorite gummy bear, with the name beside it, 'The most beautiful v(you).' This must've been the time he brought you your favorite snacks, that made you all excited.

Then, he removed the cover on all of them except the one in the middle. There was a picture of you sleeping, a painting of you gazing at the stars, and a sculpture of you, as in you, in your wholeness, naked body.

"Oh my god, Woo." You said, your voice small, overwhelmed with joy, and love, and—everything.

"Do you like it?" He asked, nervousness obvious in his tone.

"I love it!" You exclaimed as you hugged him.

"There's one more." He ushered you to get closer to it. When he finally removed the cover, you covered your mouth in shock.

It was a sculpture of him, on one bended knee, holding a small black velvet box. Woo took the box and copied the stance of the sculpture.

"Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man and marry me?"

It's finally happening. The man you love is proposing to you.

"You've given me all I could ever ask for. Yes, baby, I will marry you." You utter with tears in your eyes.

He carefully puts the ring on your ring finger, and yes, he bought your dream ring, he still remembers it even when you mentioned it only once, he remembered, like he always did.

He hugged you so tight you thought you would burst, and whispered, "I love you so much, my love. Thank you for everything."

"I love you more, Woo."

You went out of the room and everyone's congratulating you both.

Huh?

When your eyes caught the now turned-on screen in the middle. So that was what the remote was for.

"Woo!" You hit his arms slightly. Terrified of the thought that they must have seen the pieces inside.

"It only showed us, don't worry, I won't ever show those pieces to anyone, especially that one." He chuckled while jokingly shielding himself from your playful hit.

"Finally, Woo, you prepared so long for this. Congratulations." San said with a big smile, holding a glass of wine.

"You knew?" You asked San with one eyebrow raised.

"Yup, everyone knew, except you." He uttered with slight amusement in his tone.

Wooyoung sure knew how to throw surprises because you didn't expect this one bit. But you're happy he did, cause this became one of the best days in your life. The thought of marrying this man made you giddy.

Your mom hugged you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm quite curious to know what's inside that." Your mom said, pointing at the pink door.

You and your fiancé looked at each other with knowing eyes and a huge grin.

Feedbacks are highly appreciated!!

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fandom-chic · 1 year ago

Text

Please Please Please: Chapter 9

Summary: Y/N is only a child when she and Tommy Shelby meet. The two quickly become best friends as they grow up in Small Heath. As the years go by, Y/N and Tommy realize there may be more to their friendship than they originally thought.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N

Previous chapter

Days turned into weeks that turned into a month, and suddenly, it was August. Y/N didn't care what day it was, though; all she knew was Tommy was gone.

He had been taken from her before she could say stop, before she could rationalize with him. And then, with one fatal swoop, he was gone from her life. So she did the only thing she could think to do: rest.

She lay in repose once she got back from the hospital. Her father would check on her, bring her some soup, and even attempt a conversation, but he knew his attempts were useless. She would come to him when she was ready.

She thought a summer of supposed rest and relaxation would take her mind away from the fact that her one love was heading to his death, but it did the opposite. It gave her more time to ponder, to consider the future that could have been. She imagined every part of their future together.

The wedding was meant to be perfect, and they were going to promise themselves to each other forever. The honeymoon was going to be in a small cottage in the countryside where they would eat breakfast in bed and make love under the stars. Tommy would work in his company, moving more toward the legitimate, and Y/N would teach at the school down the road. Their home would be filled with little Shelby children who would have her husband's blue eyes and her warm heart.

This was a life that could be looked upon with pride. It was not one of excess or luxury, but it was her version of perfection. She had the love of her life, her babies, and a roof over her head. It was a version of happily ever after. But now, it was over. If only she hadn't been at the lake that day, if only Tommy had been there, if only she could've talked him down, maybe they would be getting this life.

She felt like she needed someone to blame, and her immediate thought was herself. What kind of woman goes alone to a deserted location, she would wonder. She would say it was all on her, but deep down, she knew that was not true. Tommy didn't have to kill that man, but he did. And now, everything was dead. These thoughts would make her stomach squeeze itself, as if punishing her for blaming her fiance for his evil action.

She would pull her blankets up to her nose and push that thought to the depths of her mind because it meant one thing that seemed to be certain: Tommy may no longer be in her life. France was dangerous, and his life may end before it has truly even begun. That made the squeeze of her stomach turn into a pit. She knew that was the worst possibility.

These thoughts swirled in her mind until August was almost coming to a close. The sun was setting earlier, and the air was beginning to cool as fall began to wade into the town of Small Heath. Y/N spent these days trying to distract herself with literature from the likes of Jane Austen and Mary Shelley. That was what she was doing when she heard a knock at her door.

She pretended not to notice her father pop his head into the room, saying, "You have a visitor." But that made her perk up.

"Who?" She asked. Her question was quickly answered by the presence of Polly Gray. She felt like a child compared to her. Polly was truly an elegant woman, even in the peril that was Small Heath.

"It's been a while, Y/N," Polly greeted as Y/N's father shut the bedroom door. Y/N sat up and straightened her back, trying to seem as graceful as she could sprawled across her twin bed.

"It has," she responded, staring at the older woman. The seconds of silence were deafening. Y/N scooted over on the small bed, giving room for Polly to take a seat. She obliged, sitting beside the younger woman. Y/N stared at her toes as Polly stared straight ahead, both of them searching for words to say. Polly broke the silence first.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here," she said, abstaining from looking at Y/N.

"You could say that," Y/N murmured under her breath.

With a sigh, Polly continued, "Tommy leaves at the end of this week," Y/N's eyes left her feet and went to the older woman's face, "He's shipping off to France with his brothers."

There were so many things to say to this, but all Y/N could say was, "Oh," as her mind raced. He's leaving. He's leaving her. He's going into a warzone. He can only kill more men there. But he's leaving her.

"I know the last month has been," Polly thought of her words, attempting to find a way to continue, "trying. But, I know you would regret it if you didn't say a proper goodbye. Both of you would." Y/N nodded her head.

"I know, I know I should," Y/N said, moving her gaze back to her toes, "but… I don't think I know him anymore." She didn't want to look at Polly for the next part, "He killed someone, Pol."

"I know, dear." Y/N felt a hand on her back as it began to rub circles.

"I don't know how we come back from that." The words came out before Y/N could stop them. She knew she meant them as much as she loved Tommy. He would never again be that sweet boy asking her to play ball with him. That boy was long gone.

"You don't," Polly began, "but that's okay. It's a new chapter of your life, and you read along." Y/N didn't know what to say as she finally looked at Polly.

"What if I don't like what comes next?" Y/N pondered as Polly looked at the younger girl.

"How will you know what comes if you don't try?" At that, Polly rose and began to make her way to the bedroom door. Before exiting, she pulled a slip of paper out of her coat pocket and laid it on Y/N's desk.

"Here is the address and time the boys are off," Polly said, "It's up to you what to do, but I know you don't want Tommy's last memory of you to be laying in a hospital bed." She then closed the bedroom door and was gone. Y/N waited until she heard the front door shut before falling back on her bed. She traced the cracks in the ceiling with her eyes, knowing exactly what she had to do.

That Friday, she wandered to the docks. It wasn't far from her home; nothing in Small Heath was that far, to be frank. The first thing she noticed was the sniffles and tears. They came from not only the women bidding farewell to their loves but also from the soldiers too.

She watched from afar at first, watching these bitter goodbyes. She knew for many, this may be the final goodbye. She took a breath, held it in her chest, and let it out before she wandered into the crowds. Her eyes wandered, looking for a set of blue eyes.

She was surprised when she first noticed Arthur. He looked handsome in his uniform, done up in a way she had rarely seen him before. Then she noticed John, holding his wife close to him as small children grabbed at his legs. It wasn't until the final man there turned around, and she saw him, Tommy. Her Tommy. His hat rested on his head, replacing the cap that usually was there. His uniform fit him nicely, hugging his slim body.

She saw him before he saw her, but she could see his eyes wandering the crowd. He was looking for someone. He was looking for her. When he saw her, his eyes brightened. That was all she needed to see to go to her love. She felt her feet pick up and rush her across the dock. The distance quickly shortened until she flung herself into his arms. She wrapped them around his neck, squeezing him tight against her chest. His arms were resting around her waist, holding her in place against him. She placed her head on his chest as he rested his chin on top of her.

"You came," the words were a whisper, but she could hear the hint of joy there.

"Of course I did," she replied, looking up at Tommy, "I had to say goodbye." She felt his hand run through her tresses as he pulled her back to his chest.

"Thank you." The words struggled to come out of his throat as he held her tight. His arms felt stronger than before. Not exactly larger than before but more toned. She knew why and it made her shudder at the thought of what training must have been like.

"I'm sorry I didn't visit you," she murmured, knowing it was a little too late to apologize.

"I know." His words were curt; he didn't want to discuss this part of their goodbye.

"I was scared, Tommy." She felt his hands rest on her cheeks and position her face to look up at him.

"I know, Y/N. Please don't apologize for anything; you have nothing to apologize for." She knew he meant it.

"I don't know if I can forgive you for what you did to that man," his eyes shifted away from hers, "but I can learn to." Tommy didn't look back at her, and she continued, "I will wait for you, Thomas. I can't live my life without you." That was when his hands fell from her face to his sides. She let her eyes wander, and she noticed Arthur and John watching the two of them, caution in their eyes. Her gaze returned to Tommy, who finally looked back into her eyes. She didn't know what to expect. Maybe a declaration of everlasting love or a promise to wed as soon as he returned. But she didn't expect this:

"Please don't wait for a dead man," his words hit her like a brick wall. "Y/N, I'm tunneling underground. That's a death sentence."

"But, Tommy—"

"I don't think you understand, Y/N," his voice rose, "I'm not coming back." A beat passed before she raised her hands to his cheeks.

"But you will, Tommy, and I will be waiting, and we can—"

"I'm a dead man—"

"No, you're not. Stop saying that!" She yelled, matching his pitch.

"It's fucking true!" He screamed back. The silence after the storm was deafening as the lovers stared each other down. Tommy broke the gaze first, looking down at his new military boots. A tear fell down Y/N's cheek as she let her eyes rise to the sky, trying to keep the tears inside.

"Please don't say that." The words were a whisper now. She felt a pair of hands slide into hers. She looked down to see her hands in Tommy's.

"Y/N, I'm not coming back, and I think that's the best thing for you." She couldn't respond, so he continued, "You can marry a nice man, one who has no criminal record. You can have that quiet life that you deserve."

"Tommy, I don't want any life without you," she whispered; he rested his forehead against hers.

"I know, but you will learn to live. I know you will." She couldn't respond but instead held him close to her. She knew this would be the last time.

"You're breaking my heart, Tommy." He pulled her into his chest as the tears spilled over onto her cheeks. He doesn't say anything as they embrace one another, knowing it was the end. The end of something amazing. He didn't say anything when the bell rang, signaling the soldiers to say their final goodbyes. All he did was kiss her cheek before heading in the direction of the crowd. He didn't say anything when she crumbled to the ground, letting her emotions take her over as he sailed off.

She wasn't sure if this was the last time she would see Tommy Shelby. She wasn't ready to accept that. She didn't accept it until 1919, when she did see his face again.

Next chapter

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storiesbyjes2g · 3 months ago

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3.174 Eighty four years

Dub and Maia's wedding was incredibly beautiful, not because of the location or decorations because they had none and did it on a sidewalk. The beauty came from the sentiments shared between them. When he called all frantic about proposing, I told him to tell her what's in his heart because our women love it when we're vulnerable to them. It makes them feel safe. But what he did was so much greater than that. Not only did he speak from the heart but also he revealed his innermost secret, which reminded me so much of myself in my younger days. He admitted to not being as confident, strong, and cool as he purports to be. Admitting to be a fake was such a risky move, but it touched me. That's a phase many men go through, and at some point we have to face the music and be real with ourselves and everyone in our lives. It's the only way to move forward and grow. And for him to do that in his vows on this sacred day? That took guts, and I have so much more respect for him.

After dozens of pictures and selfies, how about this dude offered to babysit so me and Sophia can go out tonight...his wedding night! It turns out that his brother, who was only invited to babysit, met a girl and made plans, so Dub and Maia weren't going to do any celebrating tonight, anyway. Even so, his offer was incredibly kind! I only pushed back a little bit, and it didn't take much to twist my arm. He might be the only friend I have who can volunteer to watch my child and I accept with no questions asked. Sophia didn't hesitate either when I told her about the offer on the way back to the rental. He was right about it being umpteen years since me and my extra special lady went on a date, and I was as giddy as the first time we went out.

As much as we enjoy looking good, our wedding attire wasn't quite our vibe for a date night. We were elegant and looked more like hot mayor and first lady, heh. We're more grown and sexy and I see you looking, so we changed. Sophia went all out, changing her hair and everything, so I ran an errand while I had a chance. Dub told me about a gift shop in the park in the park across the street, and I picked up a few things to sweeten our evening—partial pun intended, heh. Romance was never my thing, but I know women. Some are practical, like Maia. Others are idealists, hopeless romantics...the list goes on and on. Whatever type they are, all of them enjoy being surprised with a gift from time to time. I've never given Sophia a flower bouquet before. That should be just the thing to set the tone for the night.

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #luca winston murillo #adolting gen 3 #banks collab #wade banks #maia tilley #sophia aguilar

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tangledbea · 10 months ago

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My Tangled/Bridgerton AU ideas that no one asked for

Rapunzel and Madame Gothel

The daughter of an extremely successful merchant (yes, she's getting a downgrade, can't just have princesses running around everywhere), Rapunzel's mother died in childbirth, and her father died of a broken heart shortly thereafter. Fortunately, the woman who was hired to be her nanny and governess was there to step in immediately, caring for the girl like she was her own.

Rapunzel is raised by Madame Gothel, who she calls Mamá, and is hidden from society for the majority of her life and carefully cultivated to be the Diamond of society upon her debut, which will raise her own status on the ton when they all see how flawless her “daughter” is. Rapunzel is beautiful, demure, regal, elegant, talented… everything a man could want as a prize. Now, if only Gothel could wed her off to royalty and secure her own status forever…

Before her debut, Rapunzel was rarely seen in public, though she could often be glimpsed in her window on the top floor of her house. When she was allowed out in public, she was made to wear wide-brimmed hats, keep her head down, and carry a parasol. Gothel wanted to prove she had a daughter while cultivating mystery about her, so that her debut would be a big reveal to the ton and the world. Because of this, Rapunzel was raised alone, without friends, though she spent a lot of her time in the window watching the people below. When they weren’t in London, they were at their country estate, Der Sonne Manor, with sprawling grounds and little staff, who were under severe threat to never speak of the girl when they happened to catch sight of her.

Though Rapunzel is barely interested in most of the men whose eye she catches, she knows her job is to catch a husband. Against Gothel’s desires, she wishes to find someone interested in her, and not just her beauty and status. She hates suppressing her entire personality and hiding her quirkier interests, but she does what she’s told, lest she risk her mother’s wrath.

Unbeknownst to Rapunzel, Gothel murdered her father when she was an infant after securing that she would have access to Rapunzel's inheritance in order to raise her properly. She took advantage of his broken heart, manipulating him to sign legal documentation before killing him. Though the exact cause of his death is not confirmed, there are those who speculate that Gothel had something to do with it.

Eugene Fitzherbert and King Edmund of Umbra

There was treachery afoot in Umbra when Eugene (Prince Horace) was but a baby. King Edmund sent his only child away for his own protection, but the trusted maid he sent him with was killed en route to a safe location. Suspecting she was being tracked down, she left the baby on a stoop. The people who lived there were unable to care for him, and so took him to the local orphanage, where he grew up under the name Eugene Fitzherbert, and never knowing his lineage.

Growing up poor, Eugene longed for a life of wealth and adventure, envious of the nobles who dallied in the richer parts of town. Knowing that there was little to no future for an orphan, he took to stealing and conning to give himself even a fraction of the life he wanted.

He became jaded over time, convinced that the world was hard and cruel, and that he'd never know anything else. And yet, when he was 25, he was abruptly rediscovered by his birth father, who announced his lineage and brought him back home to be the Crown Prince.

Eugene (who refuses to go by Horace) is at something of a loss. This is the life he has always wanted, and yet he has no idea how to actually live it.

Lance Strongbow

Lance grew up in the orphanage with Eugene, and they were best friends, learning to steal and con together. However, their paths diverged in their late teens, and while Lance didn't know what became of his friend, he set his own sights on being such a convincing conman that even the nobles wouldn't know the difference.

He slowly and gradually worked his way up in subtle ways, until he hatched his major plan. The Baron of Vardaros is a man who has not made a public appearance for decades. The last Lance heard, he'd made his way to America and was never coming back. And so, Lance took his name and title, and has begun passing himself off as the current Baron of Vardaros.

He is a rake, spending his time at the club with other men and enjoying the marriage season because he gets much attention from fawning young ladies who are hoping to catch a rich, titled husband. In truth, he gets a huge thrill out of knowing that he is a fraud, and that no one around him is any the wiser.

Little does he know, the true Baron of Vardaros is soon to catch wind of his identity theft, and will want his revenge.

#Tangled #Tangled the Series #Rapunzel #Eugene Fitzherbert #Lance Strongbow #King Edmund #Mother Gothel #TTS #Crossovers

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year ago

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Hiiii! So, since it's allowed to send some requests in..I have an angsty one (I think i mentioned it months ago) 😁 Alex Danvers x reader. They are childhood sweethearts, now happily married, reader is not part of the DEO tho she knows everything. Somehow, another Alex from different Earth comes through a portal, having lost her own wife. She is kinda mean though. She temporarily disables "our Alex" and kidnaps reader, taking her to her Earth, leaving the Superfriends look for them in order to bring reader back. - happily ever after or not, I'd leave it up to you 😁 thank you! 😊

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 / 𝐒��𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Authors note: Originally I wanted to write something completely different but my hands and mind led me to something else 😂 Hope you like it and have fun reading ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The day was filled with a rare clarity as Kara flew her way through the lush landscape. The villa, an architectural masterpiece of bygone times, sat majestically on a hill, surrounded by a lush garden framed by magnificent trees. The last rays of sunshine of the day bathed the scene in a golden light as the blonde took in the silence and atmosphere of the nature around her.

You outdid yourself in choosing the location for celebrating your fifth wedding anniversary with Alex. The old, vine-covered, red-brick house with its large, bordered green park was glorious in the summertime and brought out the bright colors you have carried in your heart from the day you met the redhead.

A gentle wind blew through the treetops, carrying with it the quiet hum of birds. Kara arrived on the ground and immediately climbed the stone steps to the entrance, where the massive doors stood wide open, welcoming her warmly. A faint hint of nostalgia hung in the air in the spacious entrance hall. Antique furnishings filled the room, from silver-plated mirrors to a grand, curved staircase that led elegantly to the upper floors.

A soft murmur and the quiet clatter of tools came from outside. She followed the sound and found herself on a balcony. The vantage point offered a breathtaking view of the garden and surrounding countryside. Down there, the workers spread all over the white gravel road and seemed busy as they were making some arrangements and put the finishing touches to the decorations.

The hammering and knocking mingled with the humming of the bees buzzing around in the garden's blossoms. Elegant tables and chairs were arranged, garlands were artfully draped and bright, yellowish lights were placed in the trees. It was as if the place itself was preparing to have an unforgettable evening filled with people you both loved.

Kara leaned against the railing of the balcony and watched the hustle and bustle below her. It was impressive how each move seemed perfectly coordinated with the next. It was clear that you worked for your anniversary with a passion for detail and beauty.

The blonde could not be present at the preparations for your wedding, she was busy saving the city from a dangerous alien. But this time she enjoyed it much more intensively, knowing that both her sister and you could not be happier than at this point in time. The people her sister had dated were nice but could never compare to you. You brought forth something in the eldest Danvers that no one had done before.

In the midst of all this hectic activity and her deep thoughts, you suddenly appeared behind her, a bright smile on your lips, your hair slightly disheveled from work. She could tell right away that you wore a smile that was full of anticipation and mystery. "Kara!"

“Y/n, it looks really spectacular. Alex will be thrilled." The blonde exclaimed with a mixture of excitement and relief, walking the last steps that separated the two of you to wrap you in a tight hug. After a while, you separated yourself from her and stepped next to her closer to the edge of the balcony. You nodded vigorously, unable to take off your wide grin. "I hope so. I have all of her favorite things here, and the guest list is also full of all our friends and family. It's going to be an evening full of joy and memories.“

Kara gently placed an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to her. "Believe me, she'll love it," with a kiss on your temple, you rested your head on her shoulder and joined her in surveying the final preparations that were being completed, ready to reveal the secret of the evening and mark the beginning of an unforgettable fifth anniversary.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sunlight slowly dipped towards the horizon and the first stars began to twinkle lightly in the sky. Kara´s bedroom glowed with a warm light coming from the numerous candles on the surfaces of her furniture and the fireplace. A soft scent of vanilla and red roses hung in the air as you eagerly prepared to head off to your own anniversary party with Alex. Kara had suggested that you get ready at her place so that Alex wouldn't see you beforehand. After all, everything should be a surprise - including what you wore.

In her bedroom, a happy melody floated through the atmosphere as you stood in front of the large mirror. Your dress, an elegant, long evening gown in a shimmering burgundy red, hung on the door behind you. With a hint of excitement in your eyes, you gave yourself a smile in the mirror as you began your makeup.

The sounds of jazz music came from your phone, where the playlist for the evening was already rehearsing. The memories of five years of ups and downs flowed through your mind, and a warm feeling of gratitude spread through your heart before you prepared to sit at the dressing table, surrounded by a fine selection of lipsticks, eye shadows and perfumes.

You opened a bottle of your favorite scent, which even the redhead found hard to resist, and let the floral scent fill the air. The sparkling silver earrings Alex gave you for your first wedding anniversary were waiting on the table to be put on.

As you were applying your makeup, you suddenly felt a strange energy flowing through the room and heard a soft, magical hum. With a brush in your hand, you walked confusedly towards the door that separated you from what was happening in the anteroom. “Kara?” you asked, unsure about your sister-in-law, not actually expecting her here at this time. The blonde had promised you that she would look after the location while you got ready. “Is everything okay? I thought you wanted to-"

As you poked your head through the crack, you saw a glowing portal open in the middle of the room. Out of the shimmering light emerged a figure that seemed familiar at first glance. It wasn't until you took a second look that you saw Alex, appearing in a swirl of colors and sparks. "Babe, are you okay? I thought you were on your way to Sam," you asked with a mixture of fear and surprise, narrowing your eyes as you looked at her closely. The clothes she wore were strange and definitely not something she ever seemed to wear. The redhead seemed worn out and there was no love or happiness shining in her eyes like it used to. Just a dark shadow, while the features of her face seemed unnaturally hard.

"Y/n," she spoke in a voice that cut icy through the night and sent a shiver down your spine. She walked towards you with slow steps and a mischievous grin and you immediately sensed that something was wrong. "You have to come with me. Right now."

You took a step back, gripped by an inexplicable unease. You stared at the person who was acting differently than your partner, feeling a strange feeling arise within you as she continued to walk towards you with slow and dangerous steps. "Why? Where do you want to take me? And who are you anyway?"

Alex twisted her face into a mocking smile and snorted contemptuously. "I'm your wife, silly. Just from another dimension. My wife is lost forever and now I'm here to take you with me." she spoke delicately, a devilish smile slipping across her black painted lips. Her hand placed itself on your shoulder and gently moved down until she reached your wrist and gripped it painfully. You winced, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to suppress the flash of pain in your forearm. "You can't just show up here and expect me to come with you. You're a stranger."

She glared at you with reddish, shiny eyes, that sent shivers down your spine. Her grip on your wrist tightened, her cold fingers wrapping around your bare skin. She was angry. Very angry, but you could see a hint of sadness in her icy eyes. And despite the unpleasant situation, you felt a mixture of sympathy and irritation. "I may be able to help you, but not if you treat me like this. I'm sorry you lost your wife but I won't go with you. My Alex is here and I won't leave her.“

"But I am stronger, smarter and more determined while your Alex is weak and naive. You would be better off with me than with anyone else who only shares their physical resemblance with me." With a quick movement she raised her hand and released a beam of crimson energy at you. "You will follow me whether you want to or not. In my world there are possibilities that you cannot even imagine."

Without waiting for an answer, she violently pulled you through the portal. Reality blurred and a light briefly blinded you. As the veil lifted, you stumbled through the swirl of color, dazed and with a sharp pain in your head.

"What have you done?" You whispered, staggering and trying to focus on your surroundings. Disoriented and irritated, you looked at the dark, distorted version of National City as you knew it. Dark Alex, as you had already called her in your head, smiled triumphantly and looked down at you as you got on all fours, still trying to free yourself from the spinning dizziness that was taking over you. "Welcome to my world, my darling. Here we will see how strong you really are and whether you can do justice as my wife."

You felt trapped in a strange, hostile and cold dimension. Ignorance of what was going on and burning concern for your real wife led to a mixture of fear and determination. But what you didn't know was that your real Alex, left on her own Earth, was locked in a box somewhere far away from the city, temporarily switched off by unconsciousness and magical chains that rendered her unable to move even the slightest.

You knew that a battle would begin to rage between dimensions to determine your whereabouts.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The festively decorated hall was filled with a lively murmur and the clinking of champagne glasses as Kara, the Superfriends, and other guests excitedly waited for you and Alex. The room glowed with a warm light in the darkness of the evening as the candles flickered on the tables and soft melodies floated through the air.

The blonde, in an elegant dress, walked nervously through the crowd, her super ears alert to every noise, while Lena, Winn and Sam stood at the entrance of the hall, looking for you. The anticipation in the air gradually faded as the minutes passed and neither of you showed up. "It's unusual for these two to be so late," said Winn, looking worriedly at his watch and swaying nervously on his feet.

Lena frowned her brow in worry. She also found it strange. You were particularly punctual in everything else you did. "I tried calling y/n but it only goes to voicemail. Maybe they're late or stuck in traffic? I really hope everything is okay."

The mood among the guests became increasingly nervous as more time passed and the two of you still didn't show up. Kara felt a vague unrest inside her, as if something had gone terribly wrong. She decided to investigate the situation and set out to look for her sister and sister-in-law.

In the meantime, a tense silence filled the hall. The guests whispered worriedly to each other as the music in the background grew quieter and quieter. Lena, Winn, Sam and J'onn tried in vain to call any of you, but all attempts to contact failed.

Finally Kara returned, her face expressionless. The tension between the superfriends was palpable as the blonde walked sternly towards them and addressed the concerned guests. "I couldn't find her. Alex isn't home and y/n isn't in my apartment. However, her dress is still hanging untouched in my bedroom and-" she paused for a moment, pulling a small electronic device out of her jacket pocket. "This is y/n's cell phone. The music was still playing on it when I got to my apartment but she wasn't there. Something is wrong."

A hint of unease crossed the crew's faces. The anniversary celebration, which was planned to be full of joy and celebration, turned into a worrying situation of waiting and uncertainty. "What do we do now?" Sam asked questioningly.

"We have to find out what happened. I'm going to work with J'onn and fly to the DEO. Maybe we can find something out there," she replied with a firm look on her face, the growing concern for the both of you only increasing. "Winn and Lena, can you please go to my apartment and see if you can spot any alien activity?"

The Superfriends nodded solemnly as Kara headed off with J'onn to take action. The once happy atmosphere of the day was tinged with worry and anxiety as everyone hoped that you and Alex would return safely to celebrate your anniversary.

The night fell like a dark cloak over National City as Supergirl flew through the streets with a worried look in her eyes. Her super senses were at their peak as she searched for signs of her sister. The unsettling thought that something was wrong made her heart beat faster by the minute.

On a quiet side street, a faint sign of life pierced her super ears. Supergirl slowed her trajectory to locate the source of the sound, her X-ray ability sweeping over the abandoned factory before breaking through the light metal garage door. In a flash she landed next to a dark box, ripping the lid off the nails, seeing her sister lying there with iron chains and a purple aura surrounding her. "Alex.."

Her hands shot out to check the redhead's pulse. The heartbeat was slow, almost imperceptible. She immediately contacted J'onn and the DEO through the comms she had set up before her flight. But the chains made it much more difficult for her to bring the young agent to the DEO. The metal magically burned through her skin upon contact. She had to hurry up. "J'onn, I found Alex. She is unconscious and her heartbeat is extremely weak. I am taking her to the medical department immediately."

Meanwhile, Winn and Lena were already in Kara's apartment, looking for clues to your whereabouts. The room was in pristine condition, but the sight of your abandoned dress on the bedroom door worried the two of them. Lena held it carefully between her fingers and examined it as Winn used the DEO's technology to search for alien activity in the area.

The two continued searching the blonde's apartment when suddenly Winn's detectors picked up on some unusual, changing air. They looked at each other as they noticed that the particle sensors in the air were revealing their presence in the apartment. "I knew something was wrong. She would never abandon us without a reason. Especially not Alex."

"That's strange," Winn muttered, pointing to the display on his monitor as he rapidly typed something on the keyboard. "There are some alternate dimension particles in the air here. That suggests a portal was recently opened here. Lena frowned. "A portal? Here? But how is that possible?"

Winn re-examined the readings and discovered some kind of energetic pattern in the room. "It looks like a portal was active here, but it's been closed. It seems like y/n went through a portal."

"But why? And who could be responsible for it? After all, she has no ability to open such a portal," the black-haired woman speculated and Winn looked up. "Good questions that unfortunately we can only get answers from y/n."

As the two desperately tried to search for answers, uncertainty hung over them. A mystery seemed to be unfolding, and those who knew you best sensed that something big was afoot. They stayed in the apartment with the feeling that a strange, mysterious world had forced its way into their lives and taken one of them with it. The magic of the portal and the unsolved mysteries about your stay hung like a shadow over the two of them.

Meanwhile, Supergirl had arrived at the DEO with Alex. The doctors immediately took over medical care while Supergirl waited nervously nearby. J'onn walked up, his eyes worrying. "What do you think happened?"

"I don't know. But what I know is that something serious must have happened,“ she said with a sigh. Her shaky and slightly sweaty hand cupped her forehead and laboriously brushed away the wrinkles that appeared as she frowned. "Have Winn and Lena at least found out something about my sister-in-law yet?"

"Yes, they did. And you won't like it," he replied, putting his hands on his hips. He watched the expression on her face, the panic that overtook her, even if she didn't want to show it on the outside. "They found particles that Winn was able to trace back to a portal."

As the Martian continued to show her more details about the discoveries in her own apartment, the redhead slowly began to regain consciousness when the DEO's resources were used to successfully remove the iron chains from her. She struggled to sit up in bed against the doctors' wishes, still very dizzy. "What happened?" Alex murmured, her memories slowly returning. She was able to piece together some fragments of her memories, but she hoped for a complete answer, which she still lacked. She held her head, which hurt badly from the attack and her attempted self-defense.

"You were found unconscious. We don't know exactly what happened, but we're looking for y/n. She's missing," Kara explained to her, gently stroking her disheveled hair.

She looked at her sister with wide eyes, fear and terror crossing her face. Her pupils dilated rapidly, making her eyes appear darker, as she tried to rip the vein access and electrocardiogram from her body. Kara stopped her. "There was someone who came into our apartment through a portal just as I was getting ready."

Supergirl and J'onn perked up their ears. "Who was it?"

"She looked exactly like me. She threatened to take my wife away. After that there was a fight, she overpowered me and then..." she stopped talking, knowing what happened next. Alex from another dimension had carried out her threats.

Kara nodded slowly, slowly pushing her sister back into bed. She promised to bring her sister-in-law back safely into Alex's arms while the redhead rested from the attack. After all, she had been attacked with an energy that did not exist on this world and could produce side effects that did not come from earth.

As the mystery of your disappearance deepened and unraveled, Winn and Lena continued to work with the DEO to trace the portal particles and alien activity. J'onn mobilized all of the DEO's resources to find out which dimension was responsible, while his best agent and your friends remained in the dark, not knowing where a family member had disappeared to.

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muffinsin · 1 year ago

Note

Hi Muffin!!

This my first ask on here, I was wondering what kind of wedding theme the Dimi sisters have with s/o?

Oooo interesting! Let’s get into it! ;)

Masterlists

Bela

She’s always known she would be married eventually

Given her status, she didn’t allow herself to think of would be out of love though, but rather some kind of political marriage or one benefitting the village or wine business (not that Alcina would allow this)

When she does find love in you, and the two of you are to be married, she’ll want it to be perfect

Her expectation and wish?

A grand and rather traditional wedding

With the wedding location likely in a grant hall of the castle, she’ll insist on something regal

She is (re-) born noble and this wedding will reflect it

Nothing simple, all is extravagant

She’s all for the traditional and elegant colours

Red and gold, most of all

Candles and tablecloths, carpets and curtains

A beautiful dress

She’s the only sister whose default dress choice would be the typical white dress, long and hugging her frame

She’ll want Alcina walking her down the aisle, this is not negotiable

Cassandra

Really, she doesn’t get the fuss about weddings

If it was up to her, she’d slip the ring on your finger, you on hers, and this was it

Alas, if she had the choice, she’d want something like this:

Simple, with only the necessities

Just her family. Only people she cares about

No fancy tablecloths and no unnecessary staff members

No ball attached to it, no long celebration

Simple, but sweet. She treasures it by far more like this

Her favourite location would be outside the castle, somewhere in the forest. It’s her favourite region, after all

However, she would agree to a wedding of your taste too, should you not ask her to be stuffed in an overly girly, white dress

She’ll dislike that

She doesn’t care it’s a wedding, or rather: acknowledges it’s her wedding- She wants a black dress

White doesn’t suit her all that much, and you both know, it’ll be dirtied within minutes of her wearing it

She’s open to compromises on the wedding day and is more open to a wedding planned after your design, if only she is allowed her black dress and can ravish you in the wedding night

Daniela

Her wish ever since she can remember?

A fairytale wedding, through and through

Daniela’s been dreaming of this day her entire life, and she wants it to be perfect

She wants everything a fairytale wedding could have

Beautiful dresses/suits, a beautiful, grand cake

Tablecloths, candles, tissues, all of it must follow her gentle colour scheme

She’d want a summer wedding, outdoors in the castle garden

Surrounded by beautiful flowers and green hedges

Her go-to dress colour is something that compliments her skin and hair, such as green or maybe even a specific shade of red that goes with her hair

She’ll agree to a white dress too, though it must have a beautiful stitch and practically cling to her

She wants a pompous dress, but it must show off her figure too

Another thing she insists on? Something on her and your head

Flowers, or a crown, for example

Daniela wants her family to walk her down the aisle

Alcina’s hand on her shoulder, her sisters holding each one hand of hers

She absolutely hopes for a ball after, too

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #resident evil village

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llunar-wing · 3 months ago

Text

⚣ Choice 💎

⚣💎 A/N → New original post on Patreon. This will be a three-part series. Little fun fact, I use a random picker wheel to help me decide what I should write my stories about and where I should set them. The choices for this one were the tropes of a Playboy paired with a Fake Relationship set in a Big City. You'd think something like that would be easy, but I went through so many drafts of this, it was crazy. Anyways, hope you all enjoy! Also a reminder! The full story will be released exclusively on my Patreon first and will remain exclusive until my next story comes out, which means...Karma will officially be released in full publicly! You'll be able to find it on my Wattpad and Patreon! WARNINGS: | Forced Touching & Light Sexual Harassment | Possessive/Jealous Behavior | Class/Economic Disparity | Emotional Angst | Sexual Angst | Sexual Themes |

⚣💎 Summary → An Omega faking romance with an Alpha who’s one part charm, two parts ego, and a dash of possessiveness? What could go wrong? Oh, just everything—including a will that demands a wedding. Cue the drama, awkward slow dancing, and a lot of “I swear this is just for show” moments. Welcome to the chaos, where love might just sneak in—if one doesn’t kill the other first!

⚣💎 Words → 33.3K

⚣ ENJOY 💎

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Tres Bellamonté, one of the world’s most luxurious and exclusive hotels, sat high on a hillside, overlooking the glittering cityscape below. Its castle-like architecture glowed against the evening sky, a beacon of wealth and privilege. The hotel’s secluded location only added to its allure, accessible to those whose wealth placed them in a tax bracket most could only dream of. Tonight, it played host to the illustrious Sinclair family—practically royalty among the upper echelons of society—for their annual charity gala, an event so exclusive it made the Met Gala look like a neighborhood potluck. Even the Kardashians had to pull strings just to snag an invite.

Inside, the ballroom was a spectacle of extravagance. Crystal chandeliers hung from gilded ceilings, casting a warm, radiant light over the polished marble floors. Every surface seemed to glisten, from the delicate gold accents on the walls to the glassware that sparkled beneath the ambient glow. Guests moved about with graceful ease, the soft murmur of refined conversation mingling with the delicate strains of live classical music.

If anything, the funds spent on hosting this evening alone could probably cover donations to every charity they claimed to support—enough to last each one a decade, at least.

Waitstaff glided through the crowd, offering trays of delicately arranged canapés—caviar on blinis, truffled foie gras, and delicate lobster medallions—paired with flutes of the finest champagne. The scent of these gourmet delights mixed with the subtle fragrance of fresh floral arrangements, creating an ambiance that was both decadent and refined.

Guests moved through the space with practiced ease, as if events like these were nothing but a day job to them. They walked around in heels that could pay the rent of ten people, wore earrings that could be classified as weapons, and flashed smiles as real as Jennifer Lopez's humility. Flowing gowns adorned with intricate beadwork and shimmering sequins, and tailored tuxedos that spoke of bespoke craftsmanship would be tucked into garment bags and hidden in closets, never to see the light of day again after tonight.

Everyone's outfits, a spectrum of colors that complemented the event’s white-and-gold theme, came in second only to those of the gala's hosts and guests of honor. Members of the Sinclair family and their partners for the evening were adorned in the striking combination of white and gold. The rest of the attendees, while no less elegant, wore hues that played off the aesthetic of the evening, creating a visual feast that matched the grandeur of the setting.

Standing near the grand entrance, Jethro Thorne shifted uncomfortably, surveying the opulent ballroom through narrowed eyes. Dark curls framed his face, softening the lines of his jaw, while a carefully groomed beard added a hint of ruggedness to his otherwise smooth features. His rich, warm brown skin glowed subtly under the light, accentuating his toned arms and the fullness of his frame—rounded and firm shoulders tapering to a defined waist. Jethro’s lean build leaned more toward athletic than delicate, but tonight’s outfit—a white and gold ensemble chosen by one of the many stylists he had assigned to him—seemed intent on emphasizing his curves over his muscles.

The fitted vest hugged his torso snugly, the gold accents drawing attention to the cinched waist and the contrasting fabric that wrapped around his hips. His slacks, while sharply tailored, clung almost too tightly around his thighs and backside, accentuating his rounded, shapely figure in a way that felt distinctly revealing. The gold-and-white design, while elegant, seemed to catch the gaze of more than a few guests as they lingered, curiosity barely masked by politeness.

He held a glass of sparkling water, gripping it like a lifeline, though he hated the stuff. But in a place like this, it was the only beverage he could stomach—the kind of event where everything had to bubble or come in a shiny bottle, because, apparently, drinking anything flat might as well have been the equivalent of drinking tap water.

And this was why he wasn’t meant for these kinds of events.

His deep brown eyes scanned the sea of well-dressed Alphas, Betas, and the occasional Omega, all moving effortlessly within a world built on old money and inherited privilege. The kind of privilege that didn’t just open doors—it built new ones, entirely out of reach for most. Compared to the life he’d known, the ease and excess these people exuded was almost grotesque. The more he observed, the harder it was to contain the growing disdain simmering within him.

For someone like Jethro, raised by a father and grandfather who instilled the values of hard work, discipline, and resilience, seeing these people live with lives spoon-fed to them—often on literal silver spoons, probably encrusted with diamonds—was sickening. He remembered every hand-me-down from his older brother Jorge and the way they’d shared everything growing up: the TV, the family computer, even the few video games they could afford as long as the bills were paid. And while he knew his life wasn’t the hardest out there, it made this gilded world feel even more absurd by comparison.

Weekend "outings" were limited to public parks, going to the movies and the local Applebee’s or Chili’s for dinner. Here, though? A weekend for these people meant a last-minute private jet to the coast, reservations at places where a glass of sparkling water could run you $25 and wouldn’t even blink if you ordered a $500 bottle of wine for breakfast, along with childhoods raised on horseback riding lessons and designer nurseries.

He thought back to his grandfather and father doing whatever they could to make sure he and his brother each had at least three gifts for Christmas—most likely from the clearance section, but given with love all the same. Meanwhile, he’d overhear these privileged brats bragging about their endless wardrobes from Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Prada, and whatever other brands they dropped with their veneer-polished smirks. His grandfather had made him and his brother volunteer at shelters every holiday season, where they’d watch parents struggle to explain why there was only one, or sometimes no, gift to unwrap. And here he was, surrounded by spoiled pests whining about how their parents didn’t buy them the exact custom sports car they wanted. Hard life indeed.

It made him bristle, seeing the glistening diamonds and custom-made shoes that these guests wore as effortlessly. And for what? Just another evening of excess, where they could show off to each other and feel a little more special than they had yesterday. The whole scene was a spectacle that felt foreign, like he’d somehow wandered onto the set of someone else’s life.

He adjusted the collar of his tailored suit, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on him like that five-tier cake that looked ready to tip over with even the slightest nudge. This party, this crowd, this whole world—it all felt foreign to him, like an outsider looking in.

The opulence, the pretension, the constant undercurrent of judgment—it all conflicted with everything he knew. He had to stand a certain way because he slouched too much, and he had to make sure he knew the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork.

They were both forks! Seriously, what’s the big deal? You pick it up, stab the food, and chew. Either way, it ends in murder committed by teeth. But, of course, that’s not how these prissy snobs saw it.

But, it wasn’t just the champagne that seemed to flow like water to these people, or the sea of tailored suits and glittering gowns. It was the constant undercurrent of judgment, the subtle way people glanced his way—curious, assessing. It was one thing for Jethro to feel like he didn’t belong here, these people seemed to go extra hard out of their way to make sure he knew he didn’t belong here with their subtle but shady comments and questions.

They might call it “intrigue” or “curiosity,” but Jethro’s bullshit detector had been finely tuned since childhood, and he’d lost count of how many times he felt the urge to remind these people what curiosity did to the cat. Yet, as much as these pompous peacocks and their holier-than-thou airs grated on him, they weren’t the biggest sources of his irritation tonight—though that didn’t make the temptation to slap half of them into next week any less appealing. Especially that Greenburg guy who felt the need to comment on his ‘shapely’ figure…

The true recipient of Jethro's simmering ire tonight wasn’t one of these overdressed socialites or self-important moguls—but rather, the man at the center of it all, the name everyone in the room had come to see, the reason for this ostentatious display of wealth and power. No, the honor of being the prime source of Jethro's aggravation belonged to none other than the heir to the Sinclair empire, the man whose presence commanded attention and whispered scandal in the same breath: Sebastian Sinclair.

Epitome of wealth and charm, known to the tabloids and general public as America’s Favorite Playboy, Sebastian Sinclair stood by Jethro’s side with a tall, commanding presence, olive-toned skin, and chiseled features sharp enough to make even a nun murmur a soft and breathy “Holy Jesus.” He watched the crowd with detached amusement, his alluring green eyes flicking to Jethro with a faint smirk, clearly entertained by the Omega’s discomfort.

Every time Jethro shifted, trying to put a few more inches of space between them, Sebastian’s hand found its way to the small of his back, pulling him right back into place, as though he were reeling in a wandering puppy. Every shift, every attempt to create a bit of space between them, Sebastian never failed to force him right back to where he was, if not, closer with a firm grip, guiding him seamlessly through the room as if to say, This one’s with me.

Jethro tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the growing discomfort as Sebastian’s hand remained firmly on him, an unyielding presence that left him with little choice but to move in sync with the Alpha’s guidance. Each touch felt heavier than it needed to be, lingering just a second longer, drawing him closer in a way that felt far more intimate than necessary. As they navigated the room, Sebastian’s fingers pressed subtly yet deliberately into his back, their warmth almost daring Jethro to pull away—if he even could. Every subtle pull, every guiding nudge, seemed to blur the line between mere performance and something more unsettlingly real.

Leaning in close, his breath warm against Jethro’s ear, he murmured, “Would you relax?” his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the air between them. “You’re acting like you haven’t done this before.”

Jethro raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Right, because I’m totally in my element here, mingling with the high and mighty. But hey, I guess some of us just haven’t mastered the art of the smug smile and firm handshake.” He cast a pointed look at Sebastian. “Then again, this is your world, isn’t it?”

Sebastian’s gaze remained fixed on him, amusement sparking in his glimmering green eyes as his lips curved into that maddening, self-assured smirk. “And tonight, it’s yours too,” he murmured, his hand slipping down to rest at the small of Jethro’s back. The touch was warm and undeniably possessive which was strange and confusing for the Omega, but also a gentle yet unyielding reminder of the part they were both playing—a part Sebastian seemed to relish far too much and that Jethro was getting sick of.

“Would you cut it out?!” Jethro hissed under his breath, slapping the Alpha’s wandering hand that had grazed his backside one too many times tonight.

Sebastian’s smirk only deepened when Jethro slapped his hand away, his full lips curving into a grin that radiated a mixture of mischief and unapologetic confidence. His light, piercing eyes—somewhere between hazel and green—held a glint of amusement, an almost predatory gleam beneath thick, dark brows and long lashes that gave his gaze an intensity impossible to ignore. His curls framed his face, adding to his allure and highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the boldness of his mustache—a feature that, along with his high cheekbones and naturally sun-kissed skin, completed a look that effortlessly commanded any room he walked into.

The Alpha’s hand didn’t stray far; it drifted down again, this time lingering on the smooth lines of Jethro’s fitted vest, his fingers tracing along the structured seams that hugged Jethro's silhouette with a bold elegance. The vest’s gold accents glinted under the chandelier lights, emphasizing the shapely curves it sculpted against Jethro’s frame. Sebastian’s fingers finally settled with a possessive grip at Jethro’s waist, his touch firm and teasing, pressing into the tailored fabric as if staking a tacit mark. Each calculated caress was a reminder of Sebastian's authority—one the Alpha seemed all too pleased to assert, leaving Jethro fighting to keep his frustration in check, even as a confusing warmth blossomed within him.

“Would you stop that?” Jethro hissed, his voice low but tense with irritation. The way Sebastian’s touch lingered, just barely restrained, made his skin prickle with an uneasy thrill he didn’t want to admit. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Sebastian’s gaze sparkled with quiet authority as he leaned in, his lips hovering so close that Jethro could feel the warmth of his breath. “Relax,” he murmured—a gentle word cloaked in an unmistakable command, the kind of soft-spoken order that left little room for defiance. His fingers pressed a bit more firmly at Jethro's waist, a subtle yet undeniable claim, one that didn’t go unnoticed by the lingering gazes around the room. For their benefit, Sebastian offered a polite, indifferent smile, his expression as effortless as if this display of dominance were the most natural thing in the world.

Jethro’s breath hitched, his immediate impulse to push back clashing with his body’s instinctive urge to submit, a primal response embedded deep within him as an Omega. The unyielding pressure of Sebastian’s touch awakened something unsettling, a strange pull to yield, to soften under the Alpha’s dominance. He didn’t want to acknowledge how his body responded, didn’t want to admit that some maddening part of him craved the firm steadiness of that grip. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to meet Sebastian’s gaze for just a second before looking away, struggling to conceal the simmering frustration—and the faint, unbidden confusion now tangled with it.

As they moved deeper into the crowd, the Alpha’s hand remained at the small of Jethro’s back, exerting a barely-there pressure that nonetheless managed to steer him effortlessly. It was light, almost delicate, but every brush of Sebastian’s fingers sent a ripple of awareness down Jethro’s spine, reminding him of the part they were playing tonight.

Sebastian was in the midst of entertaining a small crowd of admirers, his deep voice smoothly recounting a story that blended their shared past with exaggerated romanticism. “It all started when we were just kids,” Sebastian said, flashing a charming smile at the group. “Our grandparents were the best of friends—my grandmother adored the jewelry Jethro’s grandfather crafted. We practically grew up together, and years later, we reconnected after my grandmother's unfortunate passing when I had to pick up something she left at his shop, which Jethro now runs. Seeing him again and how tirelessly he works to keep his grandfather's legacy alive resonated deeply with me, and I knew right then that he was the one.”

The admiring crowd hung on to Sebastian’s every word, their eyes flicking between him and Jethro with a mixture of envy and fascination, as though they were witnessing a romance worthy of legends.

Truthfully, he was surprised he’d managed to keep up this act as long as he had, but he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out—especially with the subtle looks and veiled comments certain guests kept throwing his way, their smiles tight and eyes assessing even as they laughed along to Sebastian’s romantic tale.

“Oh, that’s so like Sebastian, investing in our less fortunate communities.”

“I always knew the day would come when Sebastian would settle down, but I pictured him with someone a bit more…fitting to his lifestyle. This must feel like a fairytale for you, doesn’t it?”

“I’m surprised he didn’t choose someone with a touch more femininity. Don’t take it the wrong way, dear; you’re charming and easy on the eyes, but even for an Omega, I’d have thought Sebastian would want someone a bit more delicate–a proper woman, if you will.”

And this was exactly why he wasn’t meant for these kinds of events.

With every dig and backhanded compliment, Jethro forced himself to swallow his irritation, keep on that polite smile, and nod along as though their words didn’t graze him in the slightest. And, mostly, they didn’t. He couldn’t give one fuck, two fucks, blue fucks, or a yellow fuck about what these Botox-pumped snobs thought of him.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to just stand there and let these people take cheap shots without a word in return. He’d love nothing more than to tell them they looked like the unfortunate love child of Voldemort and the Joker, or that no amount of designer wear could mask the lack of personality—or, more likely, the lack of anything in their pants worth bragging about.

The casual touches, the glances, the carefully crafted words—all of it fell perfectly into place, an intricately woven performance that Sebastian handled with ease. Jethro, on the other hand, felt as though he were merely a prop, his role to nod and smile in all the right places, maintaining the facade that he was truly enamored. It was a strange kind of entrapment, a surreal blend of duty and discomfort, made only more bewildering by the faint thrill of being the object of such attention, even if it was just for show.

He was supposed to be the doting partner, after all—loyal, enamored, content in the grasp of the wealthy heir. The whole thing felt absurd, a scene better suited for a play than real life. And yet here he was, a theatre nerd unwittingly cast in a role he was desperate to escape but found himself slipping into all too easily.

Something in the universe is out to get him.

Sebastian led Jethro seamlessly through the glittering ballroom, pausing here and there to introduce him to various guests. His arm remained snug around Jethro's waist, the warm, muscular hold both guiding and binding him to the Alpha’s side. It was as though Sebastian wanted to make his presence unmistakable, silently declaring to the room that the Omega was his—even if just for show. Jethro could feel the weight of each stare that followed them, every curious and envious gaze making him even more conscious of the Alpha’s touch.

As they stopped to greet another circle of admirers, Jethro took a moment to steal a glance at Sebastian’s suit. Tonight, the Alpha wore a custom-tailored masterpiece that left nothing to subtlety. A lavish gold and cream ensemble, it practically shimmered under the warm light, drawing the eye with intricate baroque patterns woven across the fabric. The high-lapel jacket was a work of art in itself, embroidered with elaborate gold designs that wrapped around his frame like delicate vines. Each swirl and embellishment seemed to be crafted to highlight Sebastian’s broad shoulders and tapered waist, the jacket hugging his powerful build in a way that looked almost painted on. The polished fabric reflected hints of the ballroom's ambient glow, casting a soft sheen as he moved with the grace of someone who owned the space—and probably everyone in it.

The vest beneath the jacket matched the decadence, with gold piping that traced down the sculpted lines of his torso, creating a striking contrast against the crisp white shirt underneath. A champagne-colored bow tie completed the look, adding a touch of playful elegance to an otherwise commanding outfit. Every detail was designed to perfection, from the slight shimmer of his pocket square to the subtle glint of the watch on his wrist. Sebastian’s attire radiated both wealth and authority, reinforcing his position at the pinnacle of this social sphere.

One of the guests, a silver-haired Alpha with a sharply tailored suit and a smile that barely touched his eyes, stepped forward, exuding an air of restrained authority. “Sebastian,” he greeted smoothly, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice, as though he’d been waiting for just the right moment to make his presence known. “It’s been too long. And who is this?”

Sebastian’s arm tightened ever so slightly around Jethro’s waist, a subtle but unmistakable display of possession. With that easy, practiced smile that seemed to put everyone around him at ease—or, more accurately, on edge—he turned his attention fully to the silver-haired Alpha. “Always a pleasure, Charles,” he replied, his voice smooth as velvet. He gestured toward Jethro with a casual elegance, his expression unreadable save for a faint glimmer of amusement in his light, piercing eyes. “This is Jethro Thorne, my partner.”

The word hung in the air with calculated weight, its meaning leaving little room for misinterpretation. Jethro stiffened, his polite smile wavering for a brief second as he felt every gaze shift to him, some with curiosity, others with thinly veiled skepticism. The Omega met Charles’s assessing stare with a practiced calm, hoping it hid the simmering irritation he felt at being so pointedly scrutinized.

Charles inclined his head, the sharp smile never quite reaching his eyes. “A pleasure, Mr. Thorne,” he drawled, though his tone held an edge that made it clear he was evaluating every inch of him. “Sebastian certainly knows how to pick his company.”

Jethro’s polite smile tightened, his fingers subtly digging into the glass he held, resisting the urge to say something that would surely shatter this meticulously cultivated image Sebastian wanted him to maintain. “Likewise,” he replied, his voice even but with a hint of frost that he hoped conveyed his disinterest in this thinly veiled appraisal.

The conversation continued, with Sebastian deftly guiding it away from anything too personal, smoothly deflecting Charles’s intrusive questions with the ease of someone who had long mastered the art of charming deflection. Jethro couldn’t help but feel a grudging respect for the Alpha’s skill; Sebastian was clearly in his element here, navigating the conversation with practiced precision, his responses polished and effortless.

Later in the evening, Jethro found himself standing alone on one of the grand balconies connected to the ballroom, overlooking the sweeping view of the cityscape below. The cool night air brushed against his face, offering a brief reprieve from the stifling opulence inside. Far below, the city lights sparkled like scattered jewels, winding rivers of headlights tracing through the darkened streets, while the towering presence of Tres Bellamonté loomed over the hillside, glowing against the night sky. The hotel’s turrets and castle-like architecture only enhanced the feeling of being high above it all, isolated from the world in a gilded fortress.

Jethro inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp night air as he tried to release the tension coiled tight in his shoulders. It was rare to find a moment alone in this gilded world, where the only thing he could hear was the faint hum of the city below, a world that felt infinitely more real than the one he’d just left inside. But, his moment of quiet didn’t last long as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Frowning, he retrieved it, half expecting to see Sebastian’s name, but instead, his store attendant, Isaac’s contact glowed on the screen.

He hesitated, the surprise quickly giving way to concern. Isaac rarely called him outside of work hours unless something was amiss. Stepping further into the shadows, he answered, his voice low. “ Hey, Isaac. What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Hey Jethro,” Isaac’s deep, warm tone was a comfort in the sterile, opulent setting around him even despite the undercurrent of tension to it. “Sorry to bother you while you’re out. Do you have a second?”

Definitely. Anything that kept him out of that suffocating room filled with over-perfumed, self-important imbeciles was well worth his attention.

"Yeah, of course. Everything alright, Isaac? Did something happen at the store?” Jethro asked, bracing himself for bad news and hoping it wasn’t about a robbery or something worse. “The store’s fine,” Isaac replied, though his tone held a cautious edge. “But…your brother stopped by.” Jethro sighed. Fantastic. He’d take a robbery over Jorge’s tantrums any day.

Jethro took a steadying breath, already bracing himself for whatever headache Jorge had brought with him this time. “Lovely. What did he want?” he asked, keeping his tone as light as he could manage despite the initial sarcasm in it.

Isaac hesitated on the other end, a pause thick with unspoken words. “Well, he was...looking for you. Seemed a bit irritated when he found out you weren’t here. Tried asking questions about the store’s finances. I didn’t give him anything, obviously, but he wasn’t exactly pleased when I told him his access had been cut off.”

Jethro clenched his jaw. “Sounds like Jorge.” He could practically see his brother’s scowl, the way he’d stand too close, trying to intimidate his way into getting what he wanted. “He didn’t break anything, did he?”

Isaac gave a low chuckle, though there was a hint of irritation beneath it. “No, he was smart enough to keep his fists to himself. But, can’t say the same for his language. He had few choice words about for me getting in his way as he described. Called me everything everything you can think of under the sun from a 'nosy pawn' to your little lapdog.” There was a subtle edge to Isaac’s voice, a hint of restrained annoyance as he recounted Jorge’s scathing remarks.

Jethro raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with dry humor. "Surprised he didn’t reserve some of his vocabulary for me."

“Oh, he had plenty for you, don’t worry,” Isaac replied, his voice carrying a trace of tension masked with humor. “But my mother taught me better than to repeat that kind of language. Especially in the presence of of others.” His tone held a touch of dry amusement, though the tension underneath was unmistakable.

Jethro sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He could easily picture the look on Jorge’s face—the narrowed eyes, the tight set of his jaw, his meticulously groomed features twisted into that familiar scowl. With his angular jawline and piercing gaze, Jorge had a striking presence, especially when he turned on that look, the one that said he was used to getting his way. “Please tell me you didn’t say anything back. You know how he gets.”

Ironically, if they’d grown up with a bit more money, Jethro could easily picture his brother fitting right in with these shallow, paper-thin socialites.

Isaac’s voice softened, an almost playful edge slipping in. “Relax, Jethro. I know how to handle a guy like him without stooping to his level. Let’s just say I reminded him that you’re the one who holds the reins now—and that anyone not respecting that should probably reconsider their approach. He didn’t take it well, but he got the message.” Isaac paused, his tone dipping with a hint of warmth. “But, I wouldn’t be surprised if he came back.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Jethro murmured, already hearing the childish insults and tantrums his brother was known for. “Thank you, Isaac. You can lock up the store and head home if you want. I’ll probably be back hopefully within the next couple of hours.”

Isaac’s voice lingered with an easygoing warmth, though there was a trace of reluctance. “I think I’ll stick around a bit longer, just in case your brother decides to make an encore appearance,” he replied, a quiet resolve in his words. After a beat, his tone softened, taking on a note of genuine concern. “How about you, though? Everything alright on your end? Sinclair behaving himself, or do I need to drive up there?”

Jethro let out a huff of amusement, rolling his eyes despite himself. “I can handle him, Isaac… though, if anyone else decides to throw out another backhanded compliment about my outfit, my body, or whatever superficial nonsense they can think of, you might need to bring my bat from behind the counter.”

As he said it, flashes of the evening ran through his mind—Sebastian’s hand lingering at his waist, his fingers drifting down, pressing possessively into his hip or, more brazenly, giving his backside a casual slap and squeeze. Each intimate, uninvited touch felt like it crossed an invisible line, igniting a simmering mix of irritation and embarrassment on the surface. But beneath it, in places he stubbornly refused to acknowledge, was a flicker of excitement, a thrill he wished he could just ignore. Isaac’s voice, warm and steady on the other end, pulled him back to reality—a grounding presence he hadn’t realized he needed tonight.

Of everyone in that room, Sebastian should count himself the luckiest that Jethro hadn’t thought to bring his bat—because, honestly, he wouldn’t have needed even a hint of temptation to start his baseball career right there, with the smug Alpha’s face as his first swing.

Unbeknownst to him, Sebastian had already entered the balcony, the Alpha’s silent steps going unnoticed as he listened to the soft murmur of Jethro’s voice in conversation. He leaned casually against the doorway, his sharp eyes narrowing as he caught snippets of the exchange, his jaw tightening ever so slightly at the warmth in Jethro’s tone—a warmth he had yet to hear be directed at himself.

After another brief exchange of reassurances, Jethro ended the call with a sigh, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he tried to savor just a few more seconds of peace. But the moment didn’t last. The soft sounds of footsteps behind him were almost imperceptible, but the sudden shift in the air sent a chill down his spine. When he turned, Sebastian was already there, standing far closer than he’d expected, his gaze fixed on Jethro with an intensity that made his breath hitch.

Jethro fought to keep his expression steady, masking the flicker of surprise with a carefully measured indifference. But inside, his heart was racing, a conflicted mix of unease and a warmth he stubbornly refused to name, swirling in his chest as he held Sebastian’s gaze. The Alpha’s cool, polished exterior betrayed nothing, but there was something else—a charged intensity in his light eyes, a smoldering watchfulness that lingered a heartbeat too long. The faintest hint of a smirk played at Sebastian’s lips, a playful edge that only deepened the unsettling tension between them, as if he was enjoying whatever unspoken power he knowingly or unknowingly—likely the former—held over Jethro in that moment.

“Important call, was it? Careful, babe,” Sebastian drawled, a hint of a smirk curving his lips. “People might start to think you’re sneaking off to take calls from a secret paramour. Scandalous, don’t you think?”

There was an almost imperceptible edge beneath the playful tone, but Sebastian’s control was ironclad, letting only the faintest suggestion of something darker slip through his lighthearted facade.

“Hmm,” Jethro replied with an eye roll. “Something I imagine you’d be quite used to.”

Without waiting for a response, he continued, “The call was just some business back at the shop. Nothing major.” His tone was dismissive, making it clear he didn’t intend to elaborate. They might be playing the part of a couple, but that was all it was—playing. Sebastian didn’t need, nor was he entitled to, any further details about his personal life.

Sebastian’s smirk didn’t falter, but something subtle shifted in his gaze, a flicker of something unreadable that vanished as quickly as it appeared. He maintained his easy, controlled demeanor, yet the idea that someone else, someone like Isaac, having more of Jethro’s attention and trust than he did wasn’t a pleasant thought for the Alpha—yet he masked it with practiced ease, though it lingered, buried just beneath the surface.

Jethro’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting to the side in an attempt to ignore the heat radiating from the Alpha, who now seemed closer than ever. The weight of Sebastian’s attention was like an itch under his skin, one he couldn’t scratch without giving away that he felt it at all. But Sebastian was relentless, his tone dripping with playful mischief as he continued.

Sebastian’s smirk deepened, clearly reveling in the way Jethro’s patience frayed at the edges, each comment poking at a nerve he could feel twitching. He leaned in slightly, the casual stance concealing a more deliberate purpose, as though he knew exactly what effect he had on Jethro—and enjoyed every second of it.

“Come on now, babe,” Sebastian murmured, his voice a low, teasing hum. “You’re standing here alone, brooding away from all the excitement. Anyone else might think you’re waiting for someone.”

Jethro rolled his eyes, forcing a dismissive chuckle. “Chill on the pet names, would you? And if I am, they’re taking their sweet time getting here,” he replied, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Sebastian’s smirk didn’t waver, his gaze fixed on Jethro with an almost predatory glint. “Oh, don’t tell me I’m cramping your style,” he teased, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. “I’d hate to think I’m keeping you from… better company.”

Jethro scoffed, crossing his arms. “Trust me, anyone else would be a breath of fresh air right now.”

Sebastian’s smirk deepened as he took a deliberate step forward, his broad frame inching closer. Instinctively, Jethro took a step back, only to feel the solid stone of the balcony’s ledge press against his spine, leaving him effectively pinned in place.

Sebastian took a step closer, invading Jethro’s space in that way only Alphas seemed to know how to do. “It’s not so bad, is it? All of this. I think everyone’s taken a liking to you. Even the skeptics can’t help but be charmed.”

Jethro scoffed. “Charmed. Right. Like a snake is charmed by a flute.”

“You’re not a snake, Jethro. You’re a diamond—beautiful and rare.”

“I’m not a jewel, Sebastian. I’m a person. And I don’t appreciate jewelry metaphors.”

“It’s not a metaphor. You really are one of a kind.”

Jethro rolled his eyes. “And suddenly, I’m wondering if you’re getting a little too into this.”

Sebastian chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent an involuntary shiver down Jethro’s spine. “Maybe I am,” he replied, his gaze sweeping over Jethro’s figure with an intensity that made Jethro’s pulse quicken. “Or maybe it’s just you… looking so innocent and pristine in that outfit. Makes me wonder if the rest of you is as untouched as you look right now.”

Jethro’s eyes narrowed, an incredulous eyebrow lifting as he shot back, “Is that your attempt at subtlety, or did you think that was actually charming?”

Sebastian smirked, unbothered by Jethro’s glare. “Depends. Is it working?” he asked, a glint of teasing mischief in his eyes that bordered on smug satisfaction.

Sebastian’s gaze didn’t waver as he took a slow, deliberate step closer, bridging the space between them on the secluded balcony. Jethro felt his back brush against the cool stone ledge, trapped by the Alpha’s nearness and the simmering, almost possessive glint in Sebastian’s eyes—a look that seemed at odds with his otherwise smooth, controlled demeanor. “Relax, Jethro,” he murmured, his voice infuriatingly casual, as if they were alone and not playing this dangerous game in the middle of a high-society spectacle. “You’re wound tighter than that corset they’ve got you in.”

Jethro’s irritation flared instantly, his jaw tightening as he shot back, “Forgive me if I’m not as comfortable as you in this overpriced parade.” He could feel Sebastian’s gaze sweeping over him, lingering on the way his fitted vest hugged his frame, emphasizing each curve and line he’d rather downplay. The Alpha’s eyes drifted with an almost unrestrained focus, catching on the snug fit of his clothes as if trying to brand the sight into memory.

Sebastian’s smirk deepened, though a subtle tension remained beneath it, something unspoken shadowing the amusement in his gaze. “On the contrary,” he replied, voice dropping to a warm, velvety murmur, “you look right at home in all that gold. In fact, you’re the only thing here worth admiring.” His gaze trailed down slowly, like he was savoring every inch, before he added with a slight edge, “And I intend to enjoy the view.”

Jethro’s cheeks flushed, an uncomfortable blend of anger and an unwelcome warmth stirring in his chest. “Keep talking like that,” he muttered, barely restraining his irritation, “and people might start to think you’re actually serious about this little charade.”

Sebastian’s chuckle was low and unapologetic, his breath brushing Jethro’s ear as he leaned in, closer than necessary. “Oh, I am serious,” he whispered, his tone carrying a note that was both a dare and a challenge, layered with something deeper and harder to define. “The question is…are you?”

Jethro held Sebastian's gaze, refusing to let the Alpha’s words unnerve him. “I think you’re confusing commitment with convenience,” he replied, his voice a low murmur edged with challenge. “Let’s not pretend either of us are doing this for any reason other than appearance and financial gain.”

Sebastian’s smirk remained, but his eyes flickered with something darker, an intensity that made Jethro’s pulse quicken. “I don’t know, Jethro,” he murmured, his tone dropping to an intimate whisper as he leaned in even closer. “From where I’m standing, this doesn’t feel like just appearances.” His gaze traveled over Jethro’s face, lingering on his lips with a heat that was impossible to ignore.

Jethro’s breath caught for a fraction of a second before he forced a scoff, tilting his chin up defiantly. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who flirts with half the city. Spare me the fake sentiment.”

Sebastian chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in the narrow space between them. “Oh, believe me, baby, if I wanted to be fake, I’d be a lot less… explicit.” His gaze turned unabashedly suggestive, trailing down to the tailored vest hugging Jethro’s frame. “You’d be surprised at the things running through my mind right now. For instance…” He leaned in close enough that his breath brushed against Jethro’s ear, his next words a crude, whispered suggestion that left no room for misinterpretation.

Jethro’s eyes widened as the words sank in, his cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. He shot Sebastian a sharp look, his irritation barely masked by the forced calm in his voice. “You’re really pushing it tonight, you know that?”

Sebastian’s hand moved with a smooth, stealthy confidence, slipping onto Jethro’s waist before his grip tightened, grounding them both in a way that felt more like an unspoken command than a casual touch. His fingers pressed firmly, possessively, as he leaned down, his voice a low murmur with a trace of venom carefully veiled beneath its smoothness.

“Interesting choice, slipping away for that call,” he murmured, his tone deceptively light. “I don’t particularly enjoy competing for your attention—especially not with someone who seems all too eager to imagine himself as anything more than a temporary convenience.” He paused, letting the words settle with just enough weight, his gaze flicking to Jethro’s, unreadable yet quietly, pointedly, unwavering. “But I suppose even the unimportant ones can get ideas… if you indulge them enough.”

Sebastian’s gaze flicked back through the glass doors, where a cluster of guests lingered in muted conversation, though one in particular stood out. Tall, well-dressed, and with an air of effortless charm that drew more than a few glances, Marco Greenburg stood near the doorway, his eyes noticeably fixed on the balcony. Marco was a familiar presence in these circles, an Alpha with a family pedigree that ran close to the Sinclairs. Unlike Sebastian, however, Marco’s ambitions were rooted in outshining others rather than maintaining any real legacy—though lately, it seemed his interest in surpassing Sebastian extended beyond business or social clout.

Sebastian’s lip curled in subtle irritation, his hand tightening just enough at Jethro’s waist to pull him a fraction closer. “Looks like some others have also convinced themselves they stand a chance tonight,” he muttered, his voice holding a casual amusement laced with something sharper. “You haven’e been giving anyone any ideas, have you?” Though his words were light, there was an unmistakable edge beneath them, something cold and unyielding in the way his gaze lingered on Marco, and the way his fingers pressed with unspoken dominance into the smaller male’s waist.

Jethro’s gaze narrowed, catching the barely veiled possessiveness in Sebastian’s tone. “You know, for someone who was clear in the beginning this was all just for show, you’re sounding awfully like you’ve forgotten your own words,” he muttered, unable to mask the bite in his words.

Jethro’s gaze narrowed, his voice laced with a hint of defiance as he caught the underlying possessiveness in Sebastian’s tone. “Funny,” he murmured, a subtle edge sharpening his words. “For someone who was so clear at the start that this is all just an act, you’re starting to sound like you’ve forgotten your own rules.”

Sebastian’s smirk held steady, his tone light and laced with mock amusement. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t be letting anyone get the wrong idea—especially not your attentive little storekeeper, and certainly not Marco.” The playful edge in his words softened the warning, but his gaze told another story. His green eyes held a glint that was anything but casual, a subtle flash beneath the hooded lids and thick lashes that hinted at something unyielding. His mustache twitched as his lips curved into a lazy, almost smug smile, but there was a sharpness in his expression, a hint of tension around his jaw, betraying the playful tone he wore like a mask. For a heartbeat, the air between them crackled with a silent authority before the practiced charm slipped back into place, polished and impenetrable.

Before Jethro could gather a retort, Sebastian’s arm slid around his waist, drawing him in until their bodies were flush against one another, the closeness blurring lines that had been unspoken in their arrangement. Jethro’s spine stiffened, an involuntary rush of heat prickling along his skin as he registered the Alpha’s hand resting low, fingers splayed just above the curve of his backside—territorial, unwavering. Every nerve seemed to spark with awareness, a subtle thrill mingling with his irritation as Sebastian’s grip held him in place, unyielding and far too intimate for mere pretense.

“What are you—?”

Sebastian cut him off with a low, appreciative hum, his hand tracing the curve of Jethro’s waist as if testing the fit. “Remind me to tip the tailor extra at your next fitting,” he remarked, his tone light but his grip firm. “He certainly knows how to keep a guy’s eyes on the prize.”

Jethro felt his cheeks burn, a confusing blend of embarrassment, irritation, and a warmth he couldn’t quite shake settling over him. He shot a glare up at Sebastian, his own brown eyes narrowing. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Sebastian only smirked, clearly savoring the effect he was having. “I’ve been told.”

With that, Sebastian turned them around, directing them both back to the main event, putting back on his famous smile while keeping that same hand gripping into Jethro’s waist. The Omega looked up at him with an irritated glare, feeling how the hand crept lower, but Sebastian didn’t meet his gaze, keeping his eyes up and ahead of him.

Sebastian’s hand moved with a calculated, possessive ease as he turned them toward the main ballroom, his fingers slipping confidently to rest just above the curve of Jethro’s backside, a touch that sent a ripple of warmth through the snug fabric of his vest. The Alpha’s fingers pressed just below the small of his back, where the tailored slacks hugged Jethro’s rounded shape, their fit intentionally designed to catch the eye.

Sebastian’s grip tightened subtly, an unspoken assertion that felt as much like a warning as it did a reassurance—a mix of dominance and protectiveness that made Jethro’s pulse spike against his will. The Omega could feel each press of Sebastian’s fingers, a possessive warmth grounding him in a way that was both frustrating and oddly comforting. With that confident smile, Sebastian guided them back into the heart of the event, his arm possessively secure around Jethro’s waist, the silent statement to their audience unmistakable: Jethro was his tonight, an alluring prize wrapped in gold and white elegance, and no one was to forget it.

Jethro shot Sebastian a glare, his irritation evident, but Sebastian’s gaze remained fixed ahead, ignoring the heated look from the Omega at his side. “Relax,” Sebastian murmured, low and smooth, his tone somewhere between gentle and commanding. “Just play the part.”

Jethro gritted his teeth, forcing himself to relax beneath the Alpha's commanding touch, even as the firm grip sent an involuntary tingle through his skin, an uneasy thrill he was reluctant to name. Sebastian’s towering frame and powerful shoulders, wrapped in his opulent white suit that drew every eye in the room, exuding both authority and allure. The suit’s golden embellishments caught the light with each movement, emphasizing his broad chest and tapered waist in a way that seemed crafted to perfection.

As they stepped further into the ballroom, Sebastian’s hand shifted lower, his fingers always skimming just inches away from Jethro’s shapely ass but never taking the final stretch—a teasing touch that felt distinctly possessive, even protective. The subtle press of his hand sent an unmistakable message to the onlookers, a blend of dominance and reassurance that had Jethro’s pulse pounding, his mind a flurry of defiant irritation mixed with something inexplicably warmer.

“Care to dance?” Sebastian asked, his tone casual but with a glint of something deeper in his eyes.

Caught off guard, Jethro hesitated but eventually nodded, aware that declining would only raise questions. He allowed Sebastian to lead him onto the dance floor, the Alpha’s hand finding his waist as they moved together in time with the music. For a fleeting moment, Jethro let the room fade away, his focus shifting to the warmth of Sebastian’s hand and the steadiness of his hold.

But as they danced, a series of unwanted thoughts intruded. This was all just an act, wasn’t it? Yet, why did Sebastian’s touch feel so… anchored, as if grounding him in place? And why did the Alpha’s gaze flicker with a spark of something he couldn’t quite identify? Jethro’s mind buzzed with conflicted emotions—resentment, curiosity, and something dangerously close to longing.

Sebastian, however, seemed oblivious to Jethro’s internal turmoil, his gaze locked onto the Omega with an intensity that sent a shiver down Jethro’s spine. As the dance ended, the Alpha didn’t release him right away. Instead, he leaned down, his breath warm against Jethro’s ear as he murmured, “How about we seal the deal?” His voice held a playful lilt, but there was an edge beneath it, something darker glinting in his eyes that hinted this was more than just a casual suggestion.

They stepped off the dance floor, but before Jethro could fully process what was happening, Sebastian turned him slightly, positioning them where every curious gaze could find them. Then, with a boldness that sent a jolt through Jethro, the Alpha leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips—quick but firm, leaving a charged silence in its wake. Sebastian’s hand drifted lower, fully settling on Jethro’s ass in a way that felt deliberate, as if every onlooker needed reminding of exactly who the Omega was leaving with tonight.

Jethro’s mind spun, his heart racing as he registered the weight of Sebastian’s lips against his, the warmth of his hand, the shock from the crowd around them. The kiss was brief, but it left an indelible mark, a mixture of anger and a flutter of something he refused to name roiling within him. His warm brown skin flushed under the gaze of everyone around them, acutely aware of the whispers and speculative glances that spread like wildfire.

Sebastian, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, a smug pride radiating from him as he straightened and led Jethro through the crowd. He wore that famous smile, looking pleased not only with himself but also with the reaction he’d elicited from the room—and from Jethro. As they moved, Sebastian’s gaze caught Marco’s in the crowd, the other Alpha’s face unreadable but his eyes tracking Jethro with a mix of curiosity and envy.

Without breaking his stride, Sebastian shot Marco a pointed, victorious look, his hand tightening on Jethro’s waist as if to silently reiterate his claim. The thought of Marco—or anyone else, for that matter—thinking they had a chance with Jethro seemed to irk him more than he’d admit. He almost wished that another Alpha who’d been all too attentive to Jethro, someone with a lovestruck, naive air, had witnessed the display as well.

The evening stretched on with Sebastian glued to his side, his hand never straying far from Jethro’s body, a constant reminder of his presence and his unspoken message to anyone who dared look too long at the Omega. By the time Sebastian finally suggested they leave, Jethro’s patience was wearing thin, his emotions a tangled mess of irritation, confusion, and the lingering heat of that kiss.

“I think that’s enough excitement for one night,” Sebastian murmured, his voice low as he leaned in, his breath warm against Jethro’s ear. “Shall we call it a night?”

Jethro barely trusted himself to speak, nodding in agreement, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the ballroom and the endless scrutiny of the crowd. Sebastian took his hand without hesitation, leading him through the sea of onlookers with his head held high, his posture exuding pride and confidence. Jethro could feel the weight of their stares, the whispers that followed them like a trail, while Sebastian appeared unfazed, almost as if he thrived on it.

In that moment, a thought surfaced, one that sent Jethro’s stomach twisting in a strange mix of nerves and exhilaration. For a heartbeat, it didn’t feel like Sebastian was playing a part anymore—and the realization left him both unsettled and unexpectedly drawn in, like a flutter of butterflies he couldn’t ignore.

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