#It may have started as an arranged marriage but *she* is *choosing* what her heart wants. JC sees that. WWX cannot.

[yoredoesmore]

Can I request for Soshiro Hoshina and if possible Soichiro Hoshina (I know he barely showed up yet in the manga but I love him so much- dw you can decide to not make for him) I just want headcanons or like a fix of them being in an arrange marriage- you can choose if they were at first enemies to lovers or childhood friends,can you also make gn reader a badass and for a bit of angst they almost died during a mission- like if you know that scene from spiderman where Gwen fell and Peter couldn't save her- but just have this end in fluff 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 I'm sorry if this request is complicated sorry- YOU CAN IGNORE THIS IF YOU'D LIKE HAVE A NICE DAYYYY💕💕✨✨✨✨✨

a/n: I take so much time making these requests but I hoped you stayed patient with me > <

Till Death Do Us Part | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Gn!Reader

genre: /romance/slowburn/enemies to lovers/angst/fluff

summary: your mother may have the power to give you and your entire life away to secure your family's survival but only death itself could ever actually make you fall in love with that man..

wc: 2,4k

a/n: I don't know what this format of writing is called but I hope it isn't too confusing > <

Enjoy!

An Arranged Marriage – When those words first slipped from your mother's lips, you wanted to scream. Your heart pulsed with unease, anger even but you knew all too well that this was for the best. If there was one thing your mother held dear in life, it was the clan. Its prestige and well-being were of great importance to her and the only way to keep those secured was to give you away to a good family.

A childhood long lost – Your clan's reputation has become as bad as it could be. Your father passed away, your relatives were at each other's throats, holding onto old grudges and most traditions have been lost in time and ignorance. Only a fool would take someone as tained as you in, thus you wondered what clan would be idiotic enough to have you carry their name.

“A childhood friend?” You scoffed, the mockery in your voice as evident as the stars on the dark firmament. Not knowing who was stupid enough to have you join their family kept you up all night, therefore you decided to confront your mother. Turns out that she too had her own demons that kept her from getting any sleep.

“I never said friend.” The woman took a long drag from her Kiseru, relishing in the flavor of the tabaco before letting go of it all in one long puff.

“His father is an old acquaintance of mine. If you remember his child is of no importance, all that matters is that they are in our depths.”

The Farewell Before Death – The day of your wedding was as uneventful as one could imagine. You did not get to see your husband until moments before the ceremony. Most of your time on that day was spent in the botanical garden next to the shrine, a beautiful place where all your thoughts roamed free. You enjoyed the peace and quiet, until they were broken by an unfamiliar voice.

“The ceremony is about to start.” A man you have never seen before stood before you, dressed in what seemed like some sort of uniform.

“Can I not enjoy my last moments of peace without any disturbances?”

“Well, I was just-”

“About to leave?” Your smile sat gentle on your face, yet it reeked of toxins similar to the ones the flowers were producing. Without raising another word the man took his leave, allowing you to mourn your last seconds as a free individual in silence.

It wasn't your intention to be rude, but you were not in the mood to entertain guests. Thus, you sat there in silence until your mother came looking for you.

The Groom – As you kneeled in front of the altar, you yet had to register in your mind that this moment sealed your future forever. Other's would call you foolishly selfless but you have always found yourself putting the need of those you were close with above yours.

You didn't get to see the groom until he kneeled by your side. It would have been a lie if you said that you weren't at least the tiniest bit curious, so you allowed yourself a small peak.

“Can't tell me to leave now.”

That voice..

The man from before sat to your left, a sheepish smile lingered on his lips. Finally, the fact that you were to be married and bound to him to eternity registered in your mind.

Oil and Water – After a week of the ceremony passed, the situation became clear for all to see– this marriage was going to be difficult. Your mother had claimed that you knew each other from the past but neither of you were able to recall any interactions. But that's besides the point. Your opinions, thoughts and approaches to a situation– they could not vary any more from another than they already did. Like oil and water, the two of you stood on opposing sites, unable to find common ground.

And it didn't help that you had infiltrated his workplace.

It was one of his “demands” that his partner would join his journey– it was either that or make yourself useful in the estate. You scoffed when you heard your options and immediately declared that you would become one of the greatest defense force officers Japan has ever seen.

And you were right.

Unwanted Attention – Only two weeks after your enlistment, you already became the talk of the base. Everybody wanted to know who this new cadet was and how they were so skilled without having attended any training courses. The focus on your person only increased when people found out that your last name was Hoshina.

The attention was quite bothersome, to the point where you couldn't go anywhere without having someone ask you about your relationship with the Vice Captain. But to your surprise, everything died down one day. After asking around, you found out that Soshiro mildly threatened to personally deal with those who continued to bother you about your personal life.

After that, people only came to your for training advice or other work related things. Your skills were admirable after all.

Before he passed, your father used to train you. He was once a defense force officer himself, stationed in Kyoto but when he suffered a life changing injury during battle he was forced to retire. But still being full of passion and spirit he made the decision to pass all his knowledge down to his child.

A common ground – Although your marriage was blunt and flavorless (with little to no interactions outside of work or even at home) both you and Soshiro seemed to get along just fine during missions. He would give you commands, which you followed precisely. And whenever you came up with a way to defeat a Kaiju, Soshiro would execute your plan perfectly. Your performance on the battlefield earned you acknowledgement and respect from your peers and even Ashiro. You were greeted with smiles and bows, a different vibe from what you were used to back at your home.

Time Brings Progress – The more time passed, the more you found yourself interacting and being with Soshiro. You still didn't see him as your husband but he was no longer a mere stranger either. In fact, he has grown so comfortable around you that he started to tease you like he did with his squad. He would throw in a couple sneaky remarks every now and then and you would give him the same amount of sass back. It was a fresh breath of air in between the usual blunt atmosphere.

What Couples Do– You noticed a subtle difference in Soshiro's presence over time. He showed a more tender nature when he was alone with you, a soft side you had never seen him embrace before. It was small stuff like him making sure that you were included in conversations or checking in on you when you were working overtime. Even at home, he made the time to leave little notes behind for you when he had to work on your day off or asking you if you needed anything before going to bed.

When you addressed his behavior during dinner, all he did was chuckle.

“Ain't that what couples do?” He simply smiled, placing a neatly cut piece of steak on your plate. He sounded so carefree and calm, different from his usual cheerful demeanor.

“But ya warmed up to me as well.” He suddenly said, looking straight into your eyes.

A Sacrifice – It was an attack like you have never seen before. After the night of the dinner, you mustered up the strength to ask your husband if he wanted to go out for the evening– since it was your first day off together, but unfortunately you never made it to the restaurant. A Daikaiju of a fortitude level of 8.1 showed up and all troops were called to the scene.

You were fighting alongside Soshiro, your guns reaching the monster where his blades were unable to cut, yet the situation continued to stay dire. The snowfall was hindering everyone's vision and the troops seemed conflicted about the outcome of the fight– but then you saw an opening.

A weak spot that has been off radar due to the heavy snow blocking your view of the monster. You immediately alarmed Ashiro and told her of your plan. But for it to succeed a distraction was needed.

That is when you looked at Soshiro. It took him a moment to realize what you were about to do but it was already too late. You began to set up one of the big guns the force had brought along and aimed it at the beast.

Soshiro's hands pulled and pushed on your shoulder, trying to stop you from the reckless action you were about to perform but you stayed persistent.

“I can't let the less experienced cadets handle this, Soshiro. I promise you, I got this.”

Your voice reeked of determination but deep down concern sat in your chest. The weapon was only strong enough to mildly injure the Daikaiju and hopefully draw its attention towards the high rise you stood on. But the final strike had to be executed by the Captain and it had to be perfect, since you only had one shot.

Soshiro trusted your skills but he did not want to take any risks. This was your first huge mission and if he were to lose you here, he would never forgive himself. Especially now that your relationship was taking such a good turn..

“Ya have only been here for two weeks, Y/n. Don't try to act cool.” He sighed as he suddenly pulled you into a hug. It was the first time he had shown you physical intimacy since your wedding but it felt oddly comforting. His hand pressed onto your back a little bit too tightly but you saw it as a sign of concern.

Soshiro had to be physically pulled away by the other members when the time came.

Where the Snow Falls – You waited patiently, anxiety pulling on your skin as the cold winter night claimed your consciousness. But when the moment came for you to deliver the shot you did not falter. A clean beam aimed right at the Daikaiju's back, and just as predicted it came charging towards you. As it's tail came swinging for the building, your hands reached into your pockets, grazing over the wedding ring inside the fabric.

At exactly that moment, Ashiro aimed her weapon at the weak spot you had mentioned before, a thin layer of skin right at the sole of the Daikaiju's feet. The Monster came crashing down in an instant but instead of falling backwards due to the lack of balance, the Daikaiju came crashing down onto the building you stood on.

“Y/n!” The fear in Soshiro's voice echoed through the entire street.

The sudden impact of the monster with the building left you no time to react. You fell off the edge in an attempt to escape the masses of its body, caught in a deadly free fall. The world around you came to a sudden halt as your brain tried to come up with a way to escape this situation by going through memories of a similar essence– and to your surprise it found soemthing.

Fragments of your childhood, that day, featurin a snowy day like this one. You were outside of your estate, playing with a child whose face you did not remember. The snow fell heavy on the land, yet the boy you were with played recklessly without a care in the world. That's when it happened. The snow under his feet began to shift and dissappear, threatening to take the boy with it but in the last second you reached out for him and grabbed him by your hand.

“Y/n!” He had yelled out back then as you pulled him back to safety.

“Soshiro!” You screamed out as the ground came closer and closer.

Your husband came charging towards your body in inhumane speed, the safety of his suit long disabled. He wasn't going to reach you in time it seemed, thus you simply closed your eyes and held onto your ring.

But to your surprise the impact with the ground never came. Instead you felt something pull on your back, yanking you bank up before gently swaying you around in the air. A parachute?

Your heart beat so intensely, you feared it was going to spill out of your chest. As you landed on the ground, your knees immediately gave in, causing you to slump down into the rubble.

The other's wasted no time and came to your aid but Soshiro was the first to reach you. His arms embraced you in a desperate hug.

“You put the parachute on my back..” Your voice was a mere whisper as you pulled the man even closer into your body, filled with shock and trauma.

“Yes, because my partner is as selfless as they come.” He sighed, rubbing your back in comforting motions.

Soshiro refused to let go of you, even after the medic team arrived. After that day he stayed by your side, like a shadow, and refused to leave it ever since.

The Beginning of Something Beautiful – To think that it was a near death experience all those years ago that led to your marriage and another near death experience that strengthened your bond was borderline amusing.

You and your husband have become inseparable, finally taking your relationship status to heart. It did not happen immediately but over time you found yourself embracing his love more and more and of course you gave him some warmth back in return. It was the beginning of something beautiful.

“Y/n, Soshiro, are you guys down to drink with us tonight?” Kafka asked, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders in an excited manner.

“Can't do. Soshiro and I rented a bunch of movies for tonight for our little marathon.” Your husband immediately came to your side as he heard his name slip from your lips, a proud smile on my face.

“Let's hope we don't fall asleep like last time.” You both laughed and got ready to leave the base.

You wondered if Soshiro remembered what happened all those years ago. That you saved his life and now he has saved yours. Perhaps this was all destined to happen and the heavy snow was there to set it all in motion. The two of you were indeed only able to be separated by death itself.

a/n: I have no idea if this story makes sense. I re-read it so many times and changed and added so many things it's loose in my head. I'm not super satisfied so pls give feedback if there's something I can improve :<

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Council of lovefools.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[absurdthirst]

False Starts {Marcus Acacius x F!Plus Sized!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.1k

Warnings: Fat shaming, spoiled/selfish behavior, contentious siblings, insults, arranged marriages, yearning, star crossed love, pregnancy, child birth, death in childbirth, mentions of blood, death of a child, grief, drunkenness, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), betrayal, domestic violence, threats of harm, escape, murder

Comments: A chance meeting causes you to meet the love of your life, Marcus Acacius. The gods against you at every turn it seems, you have so many false starts in your life together.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You remember the moment you met Marcus Acacius. Your older sister was carrying a basket full of olives that you'd picked from the trees. She was complaining that your father hadn't given enough for her dowry and she was lacking prospects for an important and influential husband. You sighed, knowing your sister - the beauty, the one who men trip over themselves for - is not lacking prospects. You, however, are less desirable...plumper. At least that's what your sister constantly says. She was too busy whining that she missed the raised stone on the street, falling forward, and the olives rolled everywhere when the basket went flying. That's when he appeared. His large hand stretched out to help her and she made a show of how she'd rolled her ankle. Marcus was a gentleman and carried her home in his arms while you trailed behind with the empty basket, admiring the broadness of his shoulders. His aquiline nose and his deep brown eyes. Your heart was his from that moment but you weren't the one he wanted. "Thank you for bringing my daughter home safely." Your father smiles as he shakes Marcus's hand after introducing himself and you bite your lip, admiring his strong arms.

"You are - Marcus. Wow. You've grown. The army has been good to you. You're home now?" Your father asks and Marcus nods, a confused look on his face. "I shall speak to your father." He smiles and you grip the basket, wondering what he might need to discuss. Marcus nods and turns towards you, his dark eyes meeting yours and you swear your heart stops beating. Your sister steps in front of you, a silly smile on her face and Marcus draws his gaze to her, "I best be returning home. Have a good afternoon." He says, bowing his head. Your sister giggles, "thank you, my hero. Goodbye." She says breathlessly and Marcus makes his way through your courtyard. You watch him until he disappears and your sister grins, "that's the man I want to marry." She declares and your father chuckles, "let me speak to his father and I will see what we can do." Your throat feels dry and you can't speak, knowing your sister will get what she wants. She always does.

****

“I don’t desire her.” Marcus shakes his head as he stares at his father in horror. One meeting, one good deed and he has found out that his fate is being decided for him despite his years in the Roman army. “Her father is influential.” His father reminds him. “What she lacks in dowry, she will make up for with connections.” That doesn’t matter to Marcus, he’s a soldier. “What about her sister?” He demands, having been taken with the younger sister, the one whose eyes seem to stare into his soul and touch it. Her beauty more to his appetites. “I want her, not her sister.”

“The big one? Don’t be ridiculous, my boy. A man of your status needs a beautiful wife. Not someone who clearly cannot control their gluttony. You need someone next to you who will be appropriate for a general of Rome. You are on track for the position and you need a woman worthy of that. One day, you’ll be a senator.” His father declares, already mapping out the future for his only child. “And if I refuse?” Marcus challenges and his father turns to look at him, “then you’ll be on your own. No home. No coin. I’ll disown you.”

He doesn’t make much as a soldier, not enough to have any kind of life like he had imagined. He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “She is vain and silly. She will not be the one to make me happy.” He tries to argue but his father will not hear of it. “You will marry the older girl.” He declares and Marcus sighs. He has no choice, without his father’s approval, he would lose his position in the army and he can’t risk that.

Your sister tells you the news by squealing it so loud that it echoes off the marbled walls of your home, “I am to marry Marcus!” She declares and your eyes widen, “Acacius?” You ask and she nods, “next week. Before he leaves for another battle.” She grins and you force yourself to smile, “that’s - wow. Congratulations, sister.” You offer, knowing you have no claim over the man. He’s been in your thoughts since the moment you met him but he isn’t yours. Now, he is your sister’s intended.

Once the betrothal is set, Marcus comes over to visit every day. His father tells him that he should get to know his bride to be, but he is most eager to see you every day. Your wit and humor touches him and he loves your soft, sweet smile.

You watch as Marcus sips the cup of wine, your sister giggling over every word he says and resting her hand on his thigh without anyone seeing. You hold your own cup, taking a gulp, and you hate that you are here as their chaperone. You hate to see your sister get what she wants when she hungers for money and power. She knows Marcus is in line to become a general one day and she wants to be there to share in his glory. You take a gulp of the wine and reach for the pitcher at the same time as Marcus, his fingers brushing yours, and you pull yours back like lightning has struck you.

“Forgive me.” Marcus murmurs, picking up the pitcher of wine and motioning towards you. He will refill it for you. “Do not apologize to her.” His intended snorts and tosses her head in a move that she must believe is very becoming but comes across like a petulant child. “She should stand to drink less.” She smirks. “And eat less too.” Marcus frowns, not liking the way you are being talked about and he moves closer to fill your cup before you snatch it away. “It is hot outside.” He tells her. “She should drink.”

You shake your head, “I am no longer thirsty. I am fine. Thank you.” You say, hating the disgusted look on your sister’s face as she stares at you before she looks at Marcus, a soft smile on her face as she reaches up to caress his arm. Marcus stares at you for another moment then he sighs and sets the pitcher down. “I would like some, Maritus.” Your sister coos and Marcus sighs, “we are not yet married, Ceres.” He says and she huffs, “not yet.” You grip your cup and Ceres rolls her eyes, “I am going to find the cheese we bought from the market.” She says and stands up, making her way out of the room. “Are you prepared for the wedding?” You ask Marcus after a very awkward moment that you stared at the table.

“As much as I can be.” He doesn’t sigh, but he wants to. “I saw you in the garden this morning.” He admits, smiling when you look up in shock. “I was running to stay fit for our next campaign.” He might have run along the garden walls so he could see you, having taken notice of how often you tend the plants in your father’s estate.

Your throat closes as surprise makes your heart thump and you lick your lips. “I like to grow vegetables and flowers.” You confess and Marcus smiles, “what’s your favorite?” You are surprised by the question and you tap your fingers against the cup, “my favorite flowers are lilies and I love grapes. Easy to grow here.” You hum, “when do you deploy?” You ask and he sighs, “two days after the wedding.” Your eyebrows raise, “so soon. You won’t be able to enjoy married life.”

“I guess not.” He shrugs slightly, not really minding that. It’s not like he is a virgin, but he’s not been looking forward to fucking Ceres. She’s too self absorbed. “The emperor’s needs come before everything. Even a marriage.”

You nod, knowing that the emperor comes first, especially for the army. “That’s a shame.” You hum, knowing you aren’t upset that Marcus won’t be with your sister for long once they are married. “Ceres will be lonely without you there but she will be able to run your household.”

“My father will be happy.” The villa that had been a gift to Marcus as a wedding present wasn’t small, but it wasn’t as grand as some in the region. It was perfect for a newly wedding couple. “That will be good.” He murmurs. “And I was hoping…I was thinking maybe you’d like to stay in the villa with Ceres when I am gone. She will be all alone and I want her to have company.” He says and you look up at him again, eyes wide, “you want me to- to keep her company?” You ask and he nods, “I- wow. That’s very generous of you.” You say as Ceres comes back with cheese and grapes in a bowl.

“What are you talking about?” Ceres demands, unhappy that Marcus is far more social with you than he is with her. She is going to be his wife. Although she brushes off the annoyance by thinking that he might just be too shy to talk to her because of her beauty. Marcus turns to her and wishes again that he had not helped her that day. “I was telling your sister that I wish for her to stay with you in our home when I leave for my next campaign.”

Ceres beams, excited to be a wife and running a household for a man that will become very important in Rome. “That sounds perfect, amor.” She coos and leans in to kiss his cheek. You avert your eyes, knowing you’re going to see more affection between them once they are married. 

**** 

“You may kiss your bride.” The priest declares as everyone gathers in the front room of your villa. The space has been decorated with silks and flowers, fruit bowls on display with copious amounts of wine. You look down at the marble beneath your feet as Ceres throws her arms around Marcus to kiss him, unconcerned for the family members in the room. “Congratulations.” You tell them once they have signed the marriage contract and your parents have spoken to them.

“Thank you.” Marcus smiles at you, thinking that you look beautiful in the silky, flowy dress that you had chosen for today and the flowers that are tucked into your hair makes you look serene. Again, he wishes that you were the one that he had been allowed to marry, instead of Ceres. Her simpering and batting her lashes at him throughout the morning had annoyed him.

Ceres wraps her arm around his waist, “my handsome husband.” She coos and caresses his cheek with her other hand, “maybe when you’re staying with us, you can work on eating less and then maybe you’ll find a husband.” She says and you inhale sharply, “perhaps.” You choke out, feeling that suffocating sensation in your chest when your sister drags her eyes along your form, knowing she’s assessing every flaw.

“You should be nicer to your sister.” Marcus chides softly, frowning at his new wife. “She does not need to change.” Ceres scoffs and rolls her eyes but Marcus doesn’t relent. “I would not allow a soldier under me to talk about someone else that way.” He tells her.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not a soldier, I’m your wife, and I’ll be under you in a different way tonight.” She giggles and you sigh, “I’m going to get some air.” You make your way through the villa to stand outside, wrapping your arms around yourself, and you look up at the stars with tears in your eyes. Ceres has gotten what she wanted. Just like it has always been.

Marcus huffs and drops his hand from Ceres’ waist. “I’m going to get a drink.” He murmurs, unsure why two women raised in the same household could be so different.

**** 

You look up at the villa that will be your new home until Marcus returns from battle, and sigh. Ceres will be torture to live with but the freedom you’ll gain being away from your parents has you willing to endure her venom. She grins when she sees you, married life clearly suiting her as she comes over to hug you. “Welcome sister. Isn’t this marvelous?” She gestures to the villa, “of course once Marcus is promoted, we will be moving to. A bigger home.” She says like it’s inevitable and perhaps it is but you hate how she always wants more. “Where’s Marcus?” You ask and she takes your arm, “he’s packing his bags. He will be departing shortly. He slept in this morning. We had a rigorous night of lovemaking and I think I wore him out.” She giggles and you frown, trying to block out the thought of her and Marcus in bed together. “He was very enthusiastic. In fact he finished inside me-” She grins and you are grateful that the man himself appears and stops her from continuing her story. Marcus says your name as your eyes meet his and your heart flutters in your chest. “Good morning, Marcus.” You smile at him, “you ready for your departure?”

“I am.” Marcus nods as he is struck by how pretty you are. It had been difficult to take Ceres to bed and he had thought of you while he had been inside her. Your sweetness, your softness was what he wanted. Not the vain and selfish ways of your sister. She did not care about anyone but herself and that was obvious by her being unwilling to learn how to pleasure him.

“I am sure you will miss your wife during your journey. I will make sure she is taken care of.” You promise him, wanting him to know that someone with sense is left in charge of his household. Ceres will spend his coin like there’s no tomorrow. He nods, “I appreciate that.” Ceres scoffs, “I don’t need anyone to look after me but I appreciate your care, sister.” She scoffs and reaches for Marcus. “I am leaving now.” He announces and she grabs his face to drag him towards her, her lips pressing against his. You avert your eyes to give them a moment but you don’t notice Marcus doesn’t close his eyes, he watches you. “I shall miss you dearly, amor.” Ceres coos, caressing his cheek.

You watch him go, your heart aching, and you decide to rush out to him as he’s about to step into the carriage. “May the gods bring you home safe and healthy. We shall miss you.” You tell him even though it’s only you who will miss him. Despite it being a short time that you’ve known him, he’s buried in your heart and you’ll carry him with you always. He nods, his dark eyes burning into yours, and he stares at you for a moment before he gets into the carriage. You watch it as it disappears down the cobbled street before you make your way back inside. “What was that about?” Ceres asks with a scoff, “I wanted to tell him that I’d ensure your happiness and safety during his absence.” You lie and she scoffs again, “like you’d make me happy. Go fetch me some wine. That would make me happy.” You nod and follow her order, knowing you’ll do whatever it takes to ensure Marcus returns to a well run home. 

**** 

“Oh I have wonderful news!” Ceres grins as she comes into your bedroom, her robes swaying around her feet. “Oh?” You ask, looking up from your scroll. “I am with child.” She declares and your jaw drops. “You’re - wow. Con- congratulations, sister.” You tell her and she spins around, “I shall send word to Marcus to inform him of the good news. Hopefully that will guarantee his safe return home with the news of his son being born.” You don’t argue and say she doesn’t know if it’s a boy yet but you hum, “I’m sure he will be ecstatic.”

Marcus sighs as he reads the message. He had tried not to spill inside Ceres, but he had not been quick enough to pull out in time. Now she is expecting his child. The news should be joyous, but he is dreading returning home and pretending to be happy. His father has sent word that his wife is not very prudent with his coin, spending lavishly. He wonders if you are helping her spend, or if your time has been spent in the villa’s gardens like it had been when you were at your father’s home. “Major.” His attention is taken by the soldier entering his tent to remind him that it is time and he nods. “I am coming.” He looks down at the message again and leaves it on his desk. He cannot worry about that now, the last day of the war has just begun.

Your sister is near to giving birth and she has made your life hell. Sending you all over town to fetch the things she craves, spending coin like it will disappear despite you warning her to be more conservative with her husband’s money. She has no concern about that. “He will make more.” She said flippantly and you couldn’t argue. You’ve spent your days in the garden, growing vegetables and flowers. The summer sun has led to the garden flourishing and you are glad to have contributed to making the villa a home for Marcus to return to. You are in the gardens when you hear the carriage pull up outside, trunks being carried, and you scramble onto your feet. Your robes are dirty with soil but you rush through the home, your sandals flopping against the marble as you run towards the front door where Marcus stands, returned from war. “You’re back.” You declare breathlessly, a wide grin on your face as you stare at him.

You are a sight for sore eyes and he smiles back at you, pulling you in for a tight hug. There had been close calls and new scars he now carries on his body. “You have been well?” He asks quietly in your ear before he pulls back. “You are more beautiful now than when I left.” His smile slips into a frown. “Has your father made a match for you?”

You shake your head, “no. He thought it was best for me to remain with Ceres while she is pregnant. I trust you heard the news?” You ask and he nods, “yes. Ceres sent word.” He says but he doesn’t sound happy about it. “She’s due any day.” You inform him, “and she’s anxious for your return.”

“Then it is good I made it back before she gave birth.” Marcus says woodenly. He doesn’t feel connected to this baby or his wife, but he watches you closely.

As if on cue, Ceres’s scream echoes in the villa and your eyes widen as you rush to find her. She’s hunched over the chair in her bedroom, heaving in a breath and water on the floor. Your eyes widen, “you’re in labor.” You rush over to her and turn to Marcus. “Find the midwife. She needs them.” You order and rub Ceres back as you try to get her on the bed. “Marcus? You’re back.” She gasps.

“I’m here.” He promises, eyes widening in surprise at how large his wife has grown with the baby. “Do you need anything?” He asks quietly, unsure of what she could possibly require but feeling compelled to ask.

“Just go fetch the midwife. Ask Antonia to find her.” You demand, helping your sister onto the bed and she cries out in pain. “It’s okay.” You promise, “it will be okay.” You are panicking a little and you watch Marcus leave to go fetch the housemaid before you let your sister squeeze your hand.

Marcus rushes off to find Antonia, although he’s not sure which one she is. He’s not spent much time in this house and he’s sure that someone else was in charge when he had left. Pointed in the right direction, he demands the midwife be sent for. “My wife is in labor.”

You fetch some water for your sister, allowing her to drink and to wipe her sweaty forehead as she grits her teeth through another pain. Marcus comes back in, feeling lost and unsure as he watches you pat Ceres’s forehead with a damp cloth. “The midwife will be here soon.” He promises and Ceres pants, batting your hand away. His eyes meet yours as you stand up and place the cloth back in the bowl, softening, and you don’t notice as you focus on your sister who says your name, “go. I want to speak with my husband.” You nod, making your way out of the room to give them privacy.

Marcus sits down and picks up the cloth to wipe her forehead. “Are you in a lot of pain?” He asks, concerned. He does not have a lot of experience with childbirth, none actually. The camp followers would deal with the bastards born in their own area, the mothers recovering in peace while still traveling along with the army.

She bats his hand away, “don’t touch me.” She hisses, “you’ve been away this entire time, leaving me with her.” She spits your name and Marcus frowns, “your sister…she seems to have looked after you.” He observes and Ceres shakes her head, “she’s been hovering around me. Getting me whatever I desire but she’s - the way you look at her.” She hisses through another contraction, “like she’s the moon and the stars. Like she’s - shit - like she’s Venus.”

“I haven’t been here to look at her.” He reminds you, but she shakes her head and shoots him a hateful glare. “The day we married, you were looking at her like she was the one you wanted to marry. The day you left, you smiled at her and barely kissed me goodbye.” Marcus looks away, feeling guilty because he knows that is true. “You are carrying my child.” He murmurs. “You are my wife, not your sister.”

“You’ve never looked at me like you look at her. Even on our wedding night, I thought I heard you moan her name but figured it was my imagination. I am the beautiful one. I am the one you should want. She’s nothing. Once the baby is born, she is to be sent away and you are never to talk to her, let alone look at her again.” Ceres demands, gripping her belly.

Marcus scoffs at how disgusting that she is talking about you. “You will not have any say in what she does.” Marcus reminds her. “Your sister isn’t married to me, you are. You got your way.”

“But I wanted all of you. I am giving birth to our child. You are mine. I want all of you, Marcus.” She pleads, “I want the General I was promised.” She demands and hisses as another contraction hits her, making her chest heave.

She is suffering and Marcus doesn’t want her upset while she is giving birth, even as difficult as she is. “You have me.” Marcus promises, reaching out and smoothing her hair away from her face. “I am here. Right beside you.” She doesn’t push him away this time and he takes that as a good sign. “You must relax. The midwife will be here soon.”

She grips his hand just as you enter the room with the midwife. “There now dear, I’m here. Let’s see what’s going on. Your little one is on their way.” She smiles as she sets her things down, “do we want the father here?” She asks Ceres, her eyebrows raised, and your sister nods as she grips Marcus’s hand. “Go fetch me cloths and warm water.” She orders you and you nod, rushing off to get what she wants.

Marcus doesn’t watch you leave the room, feeling Ceres’s eyes on him. Instead, he turns to watch her. Bringing the cloth up to bathe her head again. He doesn’t love her, but he owes her his loyalty. She is having his child. “Be strong.” He urges her softly, the same thing he would tell injured soldiers on the battlefield.

It seems like hours that Ceres is in labor. Her cries echoing through the villa and you stay away, having seen the look on her face when you entered the room. You hear her cries and you look out at the high sky, wondering how long she’s going to be laboring for.

“You must walk.” The midwife shakes her head and frowns as Ceres pants, leaning over the bed. “The babe is stubborn and will not come out.” Her worry is starting to grow, but she has not said anything so far. The girl is young and strong, she will be fine if she would just heed her advice. “Let me help you.” Marcus offers, taking hold of her waist.

Ceres cries out when she tries to move, her legs shaking as she stands up and when she does, she feels blood rush between her legs. Her hand slides under her gown and her eyes widen when she pulls her hand out and it’s covered in blood. “Oh gods.” She chokes, “I feel- I need to push.” She says, feeling the pressure between her legs and she wants to push.

“Shit.” Marcus scoops his wife up and carries her over to the chair that is used to bring children into the world. “Help her!” He demands, looking to the midwife for help.

The midwife looks pale as she comes over to Ceres. “You must push. On the count of three. Inhale deeply and push, dear.” She orders, rubbing her back as Ceres reaches for Marcus’s hand, squeezing as she starts to push.

“Push Ceres.” Marcus commands, holding her hand and the sudden dread washing over him nearly makes him sick. He can tell that the midwife is nervous, that she is unsure of what will happen. “Push our child into the world, wife.” He squeezes her hand gently.

She pants, squeezing his hand, and she pushes. Tries to push as hard as possible but the baby isn’t coming. “You need to push harder.” She urges and Ceres shakes her head, “I’m so tired. I can’t.” Marcus leans closer, “you have to.” She cries as she pushes, her scream echoing off the walls as she pushes until the babe slides free from her body. The cry doesn’t come and the midwife gathers the babe in her arms, patting their back to clear their airways and get them to cry.

"My baby." Ceres gasps, nearly slumping over on the seat until Marcus is holding her upright. Her eyes are rolling back in her head and it seems like the blood is still pouring out of her. "Ceres! Ceres! Stay awake!" He shouts, seeing her nearly slipping into unconsciousness.

She doesn’t respond and he lays her down on the bed, shaking her as she bleeds onto the sheets. “Wake up.” He demands, gripping her shoulders but she doesn’t respond. 

“You had a son, Major Acacius.” The midwife says, wrapping the unresponsive baby in the cloths just as you return to the room with hot water. Your eyes widen at the blood covering the marble floor, your sister on the bed, and the baby in the midwife’s arms that is not crying. “No. No. No.” You cry, rushing over to the bed to find your sister with a blank stare, glazed over. “Ceres. Please.” You beg, caressing her cheek. She may have not been the best sister but she’s still your blood.

Marcus almost refuses to believe this is happening. “The baby-“ he asks blankly and the midwife shakes her head. “Dead.” She murmurs softly, moving to place the small bundle beside Ceres and check her. It doesn’t matter now, she’s gone. The wife he has never cared for has died. Died knowing that he hadn’t loved her, that he had wanted someone else. The gods are cursing him for his selfishness.

You sob for the loss of your sister and the baby she carried. The midwife closes her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest while you cry, stroking her cheek. She may have been cruel but she was your blood. “Marcus.” You choke, reaching for his bloodied hand. “She’s - oh gods.”

Guilt claws at his throat, but he doesn’t pull away. The little bundle that holds the body of his son cradled against his mother’s body and he clenches his jaw to keep from weeping. Not because he loved Ceres or the child she carried, but because he had killed her. “Go- tell her father.” He chokes out to the midwife.

The midwife nods, rushing from the room to find your father and you brush the damp hair from Cere’s forehead with your other hand. You feel guilty for being so jealous of her and you look up at Marcus, “I’m so sorry.”

Marcus stares at the body of his wife, his child. “I- they are gone.” He can’t believe it. “She- I just got home. She was here.” He is trying to process it, but he’s having a hard time. The guilt of his actions weighing down on him.

You squeeze his hand, “I’m so sorry.” You whisper, knowing that he must’ve loved her and wanted her. If you could take her place, you would, so she could be the wife and mother she wanted to be. The midwife stands aside for several moments as you cry and Marcus stares in shock. “We will need to take the bodies soon. I’ll fetch for the undertaker.” She says, rushing out the room and she takes a moment. She’s seen many women die during childbirth but most men are devastated to lose their wives. Marcus Acacius seems indifferent.

“Was she- was she happy while I was gone at least?” Marcus asks, turning to you and his heart breaks to see the devastation in your eyes. The truth is, he didn’t know his wife. What he did know was shallow and spoiled so he had not had too favorable of an opinion of her. She still did not deserve to die. He can only hope that her months carrying the babe that ended her life weren’t miserable.

You nod, “she was. She was happy spending your coin and showing off her home, talking about her handsome new husband. She was talking about how wonderful life was going to be when you eventually became a senator after becoming general. She had hope for a glorious life.” You say bitterly, knowing she didn’t sit out and enjoy the sunshine. She was too busy worrying about what other people thought of her. “She was happy in the way she can be.” You add, shifting from the bed.

“At least she had some happiness.” He closes his eyes and sighs. This was not the way that he wanted to come back home. “I need a drink.” He admits hoarsely, but he still opens his eyes to stare at the bodies. “But I do not want to leave them alone. A boy?” He chokes out when he realizes what the midwife had told him. Ceres had given him a boy, a child. He moves over to the bed and touches the small bundle. “I had hoped that she would not get pregnant those two days we spent together.” He admits. “But the gods had other plans.”

“I can get you a drink.” You promise, shifting off the bed and you nearly slip in the pool of blood. “Take your time. Be with your family.” You walk around to rub his back, “you are not to blame, Marcus. The gods have their plans. As mysterious as they may be to us. She is in Elysian Fields now with your boy. She’s at peace.” You try to find comfort in that, knowing that your sister was not a nice person but you hope she’s at peace.

He feels like a fraud, but he nods and turns to watch as you slip out of the room. Turning back to Ceres, he sighs and wonders why he is not upset that she has died. He feels guilty, because it is his fault, he got her pregnant. But he will not miss her. “You should have married someone else.” He tells her body quietly. “Someone who would have treated you like you wanted. Who would have been here for you.”

**** 

Ceres was laid to rest with the child who was named Fabius on a cooler day, the sun shining in the sky, and Marcus was numb. He hardly spoke and you figured that was down to his guilt of not being there for his wife. Your father demanded you return home but you begged for him to let you stay with Marcus. “His villa needs to be maintained until he can find another wife. I would like to honor Ceres by maintaining the home she loved so dearly. At least until I have a prospect for marriage.” You tell your father who narrows his eyes but nods, allowing you to remain with Marcus who has been visiting the baths frequently, drinking wine, and staying away from you. Maybe it’s because you remind him of Ceres in a way. You don’t take offense and you are working in his garden when you look up to find him standing there watching you. “Marcus.” You gasp, shifting to stand with dirt on your robes, “you’re home.”

You have been such a quiet strength. Steady and sure. Beautiful and blooming everyday. More and more wine is needed to combat the guilt that curdles in his stomach, the need that makes his loins ache every time he sees you. “It should have been you.” He tells you thickly, the wine heavy on his tongue and addling his brain. He means that you should have been his wife, that you should be in his bed but it comes out accusatory.

Your eyes widen, your stomach twisting, and you flex your fingers, “me? You wanted - if I could’ve taken her place so you’d have your wife and son, I would. I would do it in a heartbeat.” You promise with a choke, “she didn’t deserve that. Even if she was…I wish I was dead instead of her.” You declare, knowing he must look at you with resentment that you’re in his house and she isn’t.

“No!” Marcus frowns fiercely and grabs your arms, although he could never treat you roughly. He drags you closer to him, the wine on his breath washing over you. “You should have been mine. Not her.” He confesses right before he lunges forward and smashes his lips against yours with need and desire making him act foolishly under the inhibitions wine gives him.

You give in for a moment, leaning into his touch, and your hands grip his tunic, until you gasp and push him away. Your lips tingle and you shake your head, “you’re drunk and we - Ceres. We can’t do this.” You lower your hands from his tunic and step back, “I’m sorry.” You rush out before you run from the courtyard, your heart pounding.

Marcus calls out your name, feeling the loss of your warmth against him and feeling like he is about to collapse on the spot. You don’t want him and he has to live with that. Stumbling towards the villa, he decides to drink more to forget what your lips feel like under his.

**** 

You’d tossed and turned all night, not getting any sleep as you replayed the feel of Marcus’s lips on yours over and over again. They felt so perfect and the guilt rolls in your stomach again, making you nauseous. Ceres would kill you for kissing her husband. But Ceres isn’t here and Marcus is struggling. You dress and decide to find the man. He’s in the courtyard, fruit cut up on a plate for him along with cheese and meats and you approach him cautiously. “Marcus.” You murmur his name and he sighs, turning to look at you, “good morning.” You take a seat opposite him, picking up some berries. “About yesterday-” You begin but he cuts you off. “I’m sorry. I overstepped and I had too much to drink.” He explains and you reach for his hand, “it’s okay. I know you miss Ceres.” You squeeze his hand and he shakes his head, “you cannot miss someone you never truly knew.” He explains and you frown when he continues. “I feel guilty. I caused her death.” He says and you shake your head, “you didn’t cause her death. The gods wanted to take her. There’s nothing you could’ve done.” You promise, squeezing his hand again, “did you - yesterday you said it should’ve been me. I should’ve been yours. Did you- I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

He sighs, wishing that he had never said anything. He looks down at your hand in his and he can’t help but rub his thumb over your knuckles. “When your father approached mine about a marriage between Ceres and I, I told him that I wanted you.” He admits, glancing up at your eyes and then looking down at your joined hands. “I never wanted your sister.”

Your eyes widen, “me? But Ceres was the beauty. She reminded me of that every single day.” You scoff softly, knowing that you should be struck for speaking ill of your dead sister but her being gone doesn’t change the truth. “I wanted you. I - I tried to not be jealous but I was. She didn’t deserve you and I- I didn’t either but I wanted you. I want you.” You add, “it’s so wrong but I want you, Marcus. I love you.”

“I never loved her.” He admits in shame. “I love you.” He frowns. “I married her because my father threatened to disown me if I didn’t.” He swallows. “I want you.”

His words wash over you like sunshine and the guilt swirls in your belly but you can’t help yourself. You lean in to cup his cheek with your other hand, caressing it before you lean closer to softly kiss his lips.

His food is forgotten as Marcus drags you down into his lap. Your bigger size doesn’t bother him, in fact, he prefers the fact that his hands don’t fit around your thighs or waist. Deepening the kiss with a groan as he starts to harden underneath you.

You moan into his mouth, sliding your hand into his dark locks and you straddle him. His tongue pushes into your mouth and you are bold, sliding your tongue against his.

He tightens his grip on your body and pulls you closer, feeling more alive than he has since before his wedding day. His hands sliding over your back and down to your ass to grope it.

You grind down onto him, knowing you shouldn’t be doing this but it’s Marcus, the man you’ve loved for months and you want him. You want to be selfish after so long of putting other people first, like your sister.

His hands slip under your dress and he squeezes your thighs. Grabbing you greedily and gorging himself on your lush body. He breaks away from your lips and starts to kiss down your jaw, wanting all of you.

You gasp as he nips at your jaw, his hands sliding around to squeeze your bare ass and his calloused hands make your heart pound in your chest. “Marcus. I haven’t - I’ve never- but I want you. I want to give you all of me.”

You are untouched. Marcus pulls back and stares at you in wonder. “Are you sure?” He asks. “There is no taking it back.”

You nod, caressing his chest over his tunic, “it’s yours. No matter what happens. I’m yours, Marcus. I always have been. That’s why I wanted to stay here and help Ceres. Even if you weren’t mine, I wanted to be yours.” You confess, kissing your jaw.

Marcus is strong. He has pushed catapults and wagons that have been stuck in mud. He guides your legs around his waist and picks you up from his lap, chuckling when you gasp and cling to him. “I have you.” He promises. “You are perfect for me.”

You are shocked at the way he picks you up but you’d be lying if it doesn’t make your stomach clench in arousal at how strong he is. He carries you through the villa and you kiss along his neck, “my room.” You order, not wanting him to take you in the bed he shared with Ceres. He grunts in agreement and soon you are in your bedroom. He doesn’t put you down, he spins and presses you against the wall, his lips against yours within seconds and you gasp his name into his mouth.

Marcus grinds against you, pressing you into the cool wall and twitching against your core through the thin layer of his tunic. He could merely pull himself out from under the fabric and push inside you, but you deserve more than that. He drags down the top of your dress and kisses down your throat before he takes a nipple in his mouth to feast on your sensitive bud.

Your gasp echoes off the marble walls as he bites down on your nipple, your fingers tangling in his hair and your thighs tightening their grip around him. “Marcus!” You cry out, back arching to push more of your breast into his hungry mouth.

He loves your innocent cry, spurring him on and his headache is banished by the arousal that is coursing through his body. Sucking on the stiff peak and then laving it with his tongue before he is turning his attention to the other breast. Loving how sweet you taste.

Your hands caress his back as he takes what he wants from you and your legs shake when he sets you on the ground. “What-?” You gasp but he’s kneeling and shoving your robes up, exposing you to the arm before his face is buried between your thighs. You cry out and subconsciously lift your leg up onto his shoulder to grant him more room as he slides his tongue through your folds.

He never pleasured Ceres like this, never wanted to. But he had obsessed about the way you would feel and taste. His encounters with the camp whores were all women that looked like you and he could pretend he was with you. He had let one teach him how to pleasure her with you in mind even though he would never have imagined actually getting to touch you.

Your eyes flutter closed and you tangle your fingers in his hair as he slides his tongue into your cunt. You’re dripping wet with desire for him and you moan his name when he slides his tongue up and sucks on your clit. It’s intoxicating, like too much wine, and your stomach twists with arousal as he tastes you.

Marcus groans, completely obsessed with the way your cunt leaks for him. Flowing like a river and dripping onto his chin. He holds onto your hips and pushes his tongue deeper inside you.

You moan at the way he seems ravenous for you. His fingers digging into your flesh makes you whine and you rock your hips down to grind against his chin. “Fuck.” You curse, unable to stop yourself as you are devoured by him. “Oh gods. I- my stomach.” You moan, the sensation unfamiliar.

He growls into your folds, wanting to see you come apart for him, wanting to experience it. He doubles down on his efforts to make you cum, feeling your legs shake as you try to stay upright.

The whine that escapes your lips is almost inhuman and you gasp when he sucks on your clit again. It’s a sensation that has your chest heaving and you tug on his hair until finally, the high hits you. Your thighs shake against his head and you gush against his tongue while you cry out his name, head thrown back to hit the wall as pleasure overwhelms you.

Sweet as honey. Marcus laps at you frantically as you coat his tongue in your arousal. Working you through it and wanting every drop that he can get.

You slump over him, unable to help yourself as he works you until you are gasping for breath. “Marcus.” You whine, lowering your shaky leg and you shift to kneel, pushing his body back so you can press your lips to his, sliding your tongue into his mouth to sample yourself from him.

Marcus groans, letting you explore his mouth and taste yourself. His cock is throbbing but he isn’t rushing this. He doesn’t want it to end. “Bed.” He pants out when you pull away.”

You reluctantly stand up, taking his hand to guide him to the bed and before you do, you reach for the hem of his tunic. Your eyes meet his and he nods as you lift it over his head, exposing his body to your eager gaze. "Marcus." You moan, your hand immediately wrapping around his hard cock.

Marcus shivers, knees trembling at your inexperienced touch. “You are so beautiful.” He growls, watching you as you explore his cock. It might be the first time you’ve ever seen a man, let alone touched one.

You are entranced by him, the first time you've ever seen a man naked like this beyond the time you accidentally stumbled into the men's baths. You pump him, admiring the ridges and veins of his length. Thick in your grip, you look at him until he leans in to kiss along your throat, his hand reaching for the pin that keeps your dress together.

“I will be gentle.” He promises as he unpins your dress and lets it fall to the floor. Leaving you bare and he groans when he sees your nude body bare before him. “Fuck,” he hisses, twitching in your palm and leaking a heavy dribble of pre-cum from the purple head of his cock.

You swallow harshly, nervous that he doesn't like what he sees. You release his cock to cover your breasts, your arm crossing your stomach as you cross your legs. "I- I am not - I am not like Venus." You confess, knowing that your sister was much thinner and less curvy.

“You are better than all the goddesses.” Marcus breathes out, eyes drinking in your perfect form and he reaches for you. Pulling your arms away from your body. “Perfect. Beautiful. Luscious.” He pants slightly. “I have never seen anything more stunning than you.”

You inhale sharply at his words, your heart pounding and you offer him a breathless smile. “Marcus. I need you.” You plead, shifting to lay down on the bed and you drag him with you as you settle on the sheets.

This is the wedding night he had imagined. The woman he had wanted in his bed. Marcus presses his lips to every single part of your body that you had covered in embarrassment. Making sure that you understand how much he loves your body. “I love you.” He groans, settling between your thighs.

You caress his arms up to his shoulders and around his back as he grips his cock. Your nails dig into his flesh as he starts to push into you, “I love you.” You gasp, throwing your head back at the intrusion and you hiss at how he stretches you.

Marcus had taken Ceres with a sharp determination. Eager to get the act over with, but now he takes his time. The slow roll of his hips seems to take forever as he presses his lips to your exposed throat. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” He hisses in pleasure. “So right.”

He stretches you out and seems to pull you apart as he pushes deeper until he’s pressed as deep as he can go. The sting of him pressing through your innocence was minor and you tilt your head to press your lips to his again as you adjust to his girth. “Marcus.” You plead against his chin, “take me. I’m yours.” You vow, wanting to feel him.

“Mine.” He growls, nodding as he starts to pull his hips back to move. “You are so perfect.” He hisses, loving how soft you are. How you cushion his body and take the smooth thrust so easily.

You feel surrounded by him and you lift your hips to wrap your legs around him, your heels pressing into his thighs. “Gods, this - you feel so good.” You moan, having heard about the pleasures of the flesh but you’ve never experienced it before. It’s overwhelming and incredible.

Marcus bites down on your neck, nibbling and sucking as he starts to set a steady rhythm as he rocks his hips. Working his cock in and out of your hot cunt. “You are amazing, better than I imagined.”

You moan when he thrusts deep and your hands slide up into his hair, dragging his face to yours so you can kiss him. Your tongue slides against his, gaining confidence as he moves inside you. “I’ve imagined you far too many times. Felt so guilty.” You admit, “but you’re mine now.”

Marcus closes his eyes, moaning at your confession. He imagines you in this bed, touching yourself as you whimper his name. Grabbing one of your thighs, he pushes it back towards your chest, thrusting even deeper as his hips slap against yours. “Always yours.” He groans, twitching deep when you clench around him. “Fuck.”

His words make your heart lurch and you kiss every piece of skin you can reach. You whimper and rock your hips up to meet his, “Marcus. You - gods. You feel like you’re in my throat.” You confess breathlessly, “it’s so good. Fuck. I- I love yo- oh!.” You moan when he hits something inside you that makes your walls flutter and his chuckle puffs against your chin. He focuses on that angle and each thrust takes your breath away. “Oh gods. I’m going to - Marcus! Marcus!” You cry before your mouth opens in a silent scream as he sends you over the edge in a tidal wave that soaks his cock.

His teeth snap together, barely holding onto his control as he fucks you through the first orgasm you’ve had on a man’s cock. You are so incredibly wet, the noises coming from him rocking into you sound so loud. “So good.” He pants. “So perfect.” He feels his own orgasm rocketing closer, but he braces his hands on the bed, wanting to pull free before he cums so he doesn’t plant a baby inside you.

You moan his name, wanting to see him fall apart above you, and you caress his chest, “want to watch your pleasure.” You tell him with a moan and he grunts as he thrusts into you a few more times before he’s pulling free of your cunt, a grunt escaping his lips as his cock jerks with streams of seed that splatter your folds and nestle in the curls between your thighs. You reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping him to work him through it.

Marcus whines out your name, feeling that bliss that comes from sex, but it’s so much more. Rocking his hips into your hand and watching you touch him. “Fuck baby, I love you.”

“I love you too.” You promise him and he pants when you release his softening cock, sliding your hand up to cup his cheek so you can drag him towards you to kiss your lips. “I’ve always loved you since that day you carried Ceres home.” You promise, “I want to be yours, in every way.”

"I want that too." Marcus admits, although he feels guilty. "I hate that your sister died because of me, but I never loved her. I wanted you, from the very beginning. It is why I would always talk to you when you were chaperoning us."

You sigh, “I miss her.” You admit as he flops down beside you and pulls you into his side. You fling your leg over his, your hand caressing his chest. “I know.” He murmurs, knowing his guilt over losing his wife and child threatens to send him over the edge but you’ve kept him on stable ground. “Let us see what tomorrow brings. For now, I want to savor our time together.” You murmur, kissing his chest.

“I will talk to your father tomorrow.” Marcus tells you, his fingers stroking up and down your curves as he plans. He wants you to stay here, to be his wife. Especially now that he has touched you, gotten to have you. Once would never be enough. “He might wish for us to wait but I want him to know that I am honorable.”

You smile, shifting to look at him, “you want me to be your wife?” Marcus rolls his eyes and huffs playfully, “I love you. I just made love to you. I don’t want to stop making love to you. It’s the natural progression.” He says and you grin, letting him roll you over so his body is covering yours. “Your uxor.” You murmur, tracing his nose, and he kisses your fingertips when they brush his lips. “Mine.” He murmurs, leaning over to press his lips to yours.

The next day, Marcus has to drag himself from your bed. Only able to do so because of the promise of having you permanently. Going to speak to your father is troubling, he doesn’t look happy to see him and Marcus is nervous about the meeting. 

Your father looked up when Marcus was brought into the courtyard. The scrolls spread on the table before him and he doesn’t stand as the Major enters his home. “Acacius.” He greets him without his title, letting his distaste be known. “What do you want?” He asks and Marcus stands a little straighter. “I want to ask to marry your daughter.” He adds your name and your father’s eyes widen. “You want - she’s been staying with you to manage your household in your absence and I allowed her to remain there and you have the audacity to ask for the hand of my remaining daughter after you all but killed my other one?” He hisses, his eyes flashing, “do you wish to finish the job?”

The pang of guilt that fills Marcus crushes his heart, but he shakes his head. "Your daughter died in childbirth." He reminds your father. "Ceres wanted to be a mother and a wife. She was thrilled when she found out that she was carrying." He knows that he cannot blame himself in public for their deaths, not if he wants you. "I wish to the gods that their fate was different, but it was not."

“You have some gall, Acacius. Does my daughter know about your intentions?” He asks and Marcus nods, “she wishes to be my uxor.” He says and your father curls his lip, “foolish girl. Wanting to marry the first man that looks her way. If only she’d focus on eating less then maybe she’d find a man of higher status.” He hisses, “tell me…have you taken her?” He inquires, wanting to know if you are damaged goods.

Marcus frowns at the way that he speaks about you. He was good enough for Ceres but now he's not good enough for you? "I love her." Marcus admits. "She was the daughter I wanted from the very beginning. I knew that she was the one that made my heart beat."

Your father taps his fingers against the table, biting his lip until he looks at Marcus. “I will allow you to marry my daughter if you answer my question…have you taken her innocence?”

Marcus frowns slightly but he nods. "She was in my bed last night." He admits, thinking about how you had looked there. "I wish for her to be my uxor, and I will make sure that you do not lose another daughter to the birthing chair." He promises, knowing that you carrying his child will cause him to seek out the best midwives to care for you.

He hisses at hearing the confirmation of what he expected was the truth. "You have taken what wasn't yours to take but it is too late now. You will marry her." He demands, "and you will honor my daughter. I will not have her shamed. You will marry her in two weeks time, when your mourning period is complete and she will not be shamed for marrying you so soon after her sister died." He decides, "do you agree to these terms?

“I agree.” Marcus nods eagerly. “Ceres' memory will live on through your remaining daughter. She loved her sister and we will make sure that we live a life she would be proud of.”

Your father hums, standing up, and he steps towards Marcus with his hand out. "Do not let me down, Acacius." He demands and Marcus nods, "never. I will love and protect her." He promises and your father shakes his hand, his grip tight and almost painful but Marcus doesn't flinch. When Marcus returns, you are in the garden and quickly stand when he approaches you. "What did he say?" You ask, eager to hear good news. Marcus smiles, reaching for your hands, "he said yes." You squeal and cup Marcus's cheeks, leaning in to kiss him.

“I must go check in with the generals.” Marcus reminds you when you both finally come up for air several moments later. “We can celebrate when I return.” He must inform them that he will be marrying again. He doesn’t need to seek permission, but he has to let them know in case of his death.

You grin, excited to marry the man you love, and you peck his lips again as he steps back. He doesn’t get a chance to walk out the door when two soldiers appear on the doorstep. You frown, looking towards Marcus who looks confused. “What is going on?” He asks and the soldier hands him a scroll. You stand behind Marcus as he reads and finally, he turns to face you. “I am needed in battle. Tonight. I am ordered to leave with immediate effect.” Your eyes widen slightly and you shake your head in shock, “but we - how long will you be gone?” You ask and Marcus hands the scroll back to the soldier and walks back towards you. “I don’t know.” He says honestly and cups your cheeks, “I could be away a month. Or a year.” He admits, knowing that the battles can last months. “It’s a direct order from the emperor. I cannot deny it.” He says as he rests his forehead against yours. Tears sting in your eyes, knowing he’s being taken from you again. “I’ll be okay. I’ll maintain the villa and await your return so I can be your uxor.” You offer him a watery smile, trying to be strong.

“Stay here.” He nods in agreement. “You will be my wife as soon as I return and you have done well maintaining our home.” He praises, leaning in and cupping your cheek. “I love you.” He murmurs your name and presses his lips to yours.

You nod, a tight smile on your face, “I love you too.” You murmur, watching as he lets go of you and makes his way to the entrance, following the guards out of his home and leaving you standing there. Your dreams of him being your husband are delayed, but not shattered.

**** 

It’s been three years since Marcus has seen Rome. Three years since he had kissed you and walked away, hopeful to come home and marry you. He hasn’t heard from you, despite the messengers he had sent to his villa. He hadn’t even been allowed to go home before coming to visit the Emperor. He had been promoted to general while he was gone and he wearily wonders if the emperor would immediately send him off on another campaign or if he could finally fulfill his promise to you.

The fanfare is excessive and you are preparing yourself as you know who is making their way up the steps to greet the emperors. Your golden wreath and silk robes show your status and you are to be empress soon. Married to Geta in the coming weeks. The emperor had wanted a ceremony fit for the “greatest emperor Rome has ever had” and as such, the ceremony is still being planned. You stand tall, watching as the man you still love makes his way up the stairs until he comes into view. He looks older, more jaded, and you inhale sharply when you see him. His eyes are fixed on the emperors and your heart thumps in your chest, stopping when those dark eyes meet yours.

His eyes widen when he sees you. Still as beautiful as you were the day he left, maybe more so. Surprised to find you here and he almost moves towards you, ready to kiss you and gather you in his arms, but there is something in your eyes that makes him hesitate. A warning. He shifts back to Geta, and then towards you, trying to understand what is going on.

“Ah, General. Welcome home. Rome thanks you for your success. The emperors thank you for your success. Our future empress thanks you for your success.” He adds and smirks as he looks over to you. You move towards him and behind you is a little girl. She clings to your robes and Marcus’s eyes widen as you take her hand and walk towards Geta, taking his hand.

His world shifts and he stops breathing. The little girl is no more than a small toddler, a baby. He swallows harshly as he stares at the little girl and then back to you. Your eyes shift guiltily and he knows. The little girl is his. His heart pounds in his chest, but Geta is waiting and he nods. “It was my pleasure.” He croaks out. “For Rome.” There are many questions swimming in his head, but he doesn’t dare to ask them now.

"Perhaps the General would like to rest now. He's had a long journey to Rome and he is staying for the week of celebrations. He must require rest and wine." You murmur to Geta who is busy waving to the crowd. "You are quite right, my love. General, please rest. You'll be escorted to the rooms we have assigned you." Geta says and Caracalla smacks Marcus on the back, "go find a whore and celebrate our great victory." He grins and Marcus bows his head. He looks at you and you try to tell him with his eyes that you will find him and explain. There's so much to explain.

Being escorted through the halls of the large palace, Marcus tries to understand what happened. The child is his. He is certain, but why would the emperor marry a woman with a bastard? His stomach clenches in regret for not marrying you right away. He should have, that way you would not have been shamed while carrying his child. He wonders what your father had said, walking into the room he was given and sighing softly as the door closes behind him.

It takes a while for you to settle Ceres in her bed for her nap. The palace maids have offered to assist but you refuse, wanting to settle your daughter yourself. Once she's asleep, you make your way through the halls, knowing where Marcus is being housed, and you are wary as you look around before you knock on his door.

Marcus stares at the door for a moment, his pacing paused before he strides over to the door to open it. Seeing you, he steps back and opens the door wider in invitation rather than dragging you against him into the room like he wants to. He growls your name. “What the hell is going on?”

"I can explain." You rush out, sensing and then seeing his anger. "After you left...I found out I was with child and my father...he was furious. Refused to let me get word to you and ordered me to go to Rome to stay with his sister. I had the baby. A girl - and she - she's so much like you, Marcus." You offer him a soft smile. "I wanted to return to your home and wait for you with our child but - I didn't know - my father was arranging for me to marry the emperor. Geta had seen me when I was walking through the market and he - he inquired with my father about me. I have no clue why but he ordered me to the palace and proposed. I told him I was betrothed to you, even confessed about our daughter, but he didn't care. He has told everyone that the child is my sister's and you are the father. That I am caring for my niece. She isn't a threat to him, and he wishes for me to birth a boy for his successor. He cares little for the fact that I am no longer innocent, but I refused to marry him, then he - he threatened Ceres , he threatened our daughter, and I - I had to agree." You choke, tears streaming down your cheeks as you rush to explain everything that has happened since the morning he left his home.

Marcus clenches his jaw, his hands curled into fists. You wouldn’t lie to him, it’s not the type of person you are. “You- you gave birth alone?” He demands, feeling nearly sick since your sister had died in childbirth. You must have been terrified. Shaking your head, you reach out and touch his arm. “My aunt and the midwives were with me.” You explain. “She is beautiful. Wonderful.” You smile and his anger crumbles, reaching out and caressing your cheek. “I am so sorry I was not here, amor.” He swallows harshly, knowing that you cannot be his now. All his dreams have been crushed.

You sob, wrapping your arms around his neck. You have felt so alone since the time he left. You've fought for your daughter and your life and you are exhausted. His arms wrap around you and you finally feel like you're home. "I don't want to marry Geta. I love you. It's always been you, but Ceres - I would give my life to save hers."

Marcus can’t kiss you, you would both be killed for betraying the emperor. “You did the right thing.” He promises, running his hands up and down your sides. He had hoped you would be safe in his home, but apparently not. “The villa?” He asks.

“Your father is managing it. He - he spoke with my father and they decided to send me away and I think your father hoped to find you another wife when the time came.” You reveal, your hand finding his chest, wishing you could feel his heart but it’s covered by the armor.

He snorts and shakes his head. “I listened to his choice the first time.” He tells you. “He has no say in who I marry now.” He wishes that were you; but now you have Geta.

You have tears streaming down your cheeks, “this is so unfair.” You choke and slide your hand up to his cheek again. “I want to be yours but he has promised me that Ceres will want for nothing. He has promised a dowry beyond anything I could offer so she can be married to a good man.”

Marcus shakes his head, knowing that you might have thought he was dead. Or he could die, the gods know how he had almost been killed many times. “You did nothing wrong.” He promises you, leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours. “We are just….star crossed.” He sighs as he pulls back. “You will be the empress of Rome. I am just one of her generals.”

“I don’t want to be empress. I want to be yours.” You choke, surging forward to hover your lips against his but he doesn’t close the gap. You sob and shift away from him, “I will- I need to go back to Ceres.”

Marcus lets you pull away, not pulling you back against him. He swallows harshly as you turn towards the door before he softly says your name. Watching as you freeze and turn back towards him. “I never stopped loving you.” He promises. “I’m sorry I took too long to come home.”

You nod, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “me too. Perhaps we will be together in another life.” You murmur and open the door, stepping out before anyone notices and you make your way back to your room, your heart breaking with each step away from Marcus. 

**** 

You sip your wine, lost in your thoughts as the emperors argue in front of you. Ceres is with her nanny and you would rather be with her than sitting watching two grown men argue about what piece of land to conquer next. Marcus is sitting opposite you, the map of the empire laid out before you on the table and you aren’t thinking when you set your cup down and it tips, spilling wine over the map. “You need to pay more attention, you useless whore. That map will take months to recreate.” Geta strides over to you, his hand raised and he doesn’t think as he strikes you, his palm slapping your cheek. The sting makes your head fuzzy but this isn’t the first time he’s done this.

Marcus clenches his fist in anger, barely restraining himself from lunging at the emperor. He knows that he would be struck down by the guards around the room if he tried to attack the man for hitting you. “Blood often obscures our maps on the battlefield, emperor.” He tells them. “I can get our scribe to fix it.” He sends the men a tight smile. “You can claim it came from your latest victory.”

You don’t rub your cheek, knowing that will be seen as a weakness so you sit still, blinking to stop the tears pooling in your eyes. “Very well. I appreciate the offer, General. Now, what are your thoughts of venturing more into Africa to continue our conquests?” Geta asks. You look over at Marcus who has his jaw clenched and you refill your empty cup, needing something to drink. Geta has often told you about how attractive he finds you. You are like a goddess according to him but he never makes you feel worshiped. He’s hit you several times when you don’t please him and you endure it, knowing you have no choice, and you cannot allow him to inflict his hand on your daughter. “I’m sorry, Caesar.” You bow your head and he hums, caressing your sore cheek. “You must learn, dear one. I need a loyal and obedient empress.” He reminds you and leans in to softly kiss your lips while you try not to flinch.

Marcus clears his throat. “Africa will be a challenge against our army.” Marcus admits as he points towards the coast. “There are many fortified cities and they will have many defenses against invasions from the sea.” He can’t concentrate on you, knowing it would be dangerous to show the emperors that he has feelings for you. “We do not want a war that your children will still be fighting when they come to the throne.”

Caracalla growls and shakes his head, “who cares if we are fighting for 100 years? It is our duty to make Rome great and that includes adding to our empire.” Geta tuts, “now brother. We must control our urges. Less we destroy Rome in the process. Perhaps the General can suggest another area we can fight for?” He looks over at Marcus with his head tilted.

Marcus clenches his jaw and sighs. “Here.” He points to a cluster of Isles on the map. “There would be a good stronghold for Rome.” He decides. “We could position our troops and leave a permanent garrison.”

Geta nods, “that would be ideal. Create a naval base there.” He is intrigued, “brother?” He asks looking at Caracalla who is poking between you and Marcus with a funny look on his face. “It would be most advantageous.” He agrees after a moment.

Marcus nods. “We will need to send scouting ships first.” He informs them. “Send back detailed reports. See if they can land a small party to survey the best places to land.”

You watch the emperors absorb his words and you sigh, wishing your cup was refilled. “See it is done. I want to move as fast as possible.” Geta orders and he strides over to you. “I’m sorry, my love. Forgive my hand.” He coos, gripping your chin and he leans in to kiss you. You try not to recoil as his lips press against yours.

Marcus has to look away. His eyes dropping back to the map as he pretends that he’s unaffected by the sight of you kissing someone else. He wonders if you’ve been in Geta’s bed, although that’s not fair to you. He had left without marrying you. Hoping to be home quickly and he hadn’t. He had left you alone to give birth to his daughter.

You smile at Geta after he pulls away, “emperor.” You murmur and he grins, “my empress. Soon.” He promises and you nod, watching Geta move towards the stained map. “Speak to the others. Get this into action.” He tells Marcus who nods, “of course.”

Marcus bows his head respectfully to both of the emperors and then to you. His eyes meet yours briefly before he spins on his heel and marches out of the room. Eager to get away from the emperor before he does something to make him suspicious.

**** 

You are in the gardens with Ceres when you see Marcus walking through the vegetables you’ve been growing since you arrived at the palace. It calms you and allows you to think about anything other than your fate. Ceres runs around, giggling as she enjoys the fresh air and you freeze when Marcus spots you. His eyes immediately went to Ceres.

His daughter. Marcus watches the young girl, wishing that he could scoop her up, introduce himself to her as her father, but he can’t. He says your name when he finally looks away from her towards you. “It seems you still enjoy the gardens.”

You smile, brushing your dirty hands on your dress as you stand, “it’s peaceful. It feels like home.” You admit, “and I like the escape from the emperors.” You confess, glancing around. “Ceres. Come here.” You call your daughter over and she rushes over, giggling as she plucks a flower. “Ceres.” You pick her up and she looks at you, “this is your father. Your pater.” You say and she looks at Marcus, “pater?” She tilts her head and you brace yourself for Marcus’s response.

Marcus looks around in surprise, but the guards are too far away to hear the conversation. He murmurs your name in caution but you tilt your head. “People believe she is my sister’s daughter.” You remind him and he nods, stepping forward and kneeling down in front of the young girl. “Pater.” He confirms solemnly, reaching out to touch her cheek. “I was away for a long time, but I am home now.”

Ceres grins, excited to meet her father. You’ve always told her about him, told her stories of how brave he is, and she doesn’t hesitate to surge forward to wrap her arms around his neck. “Pater.” She says excitedly and leans back to kiss his cheek.

Marcus holds her tight, closing his eyes so he doesn’t cry at the simple acceptance the baby in his arms provides. He swallows and when he opens his eyes again, he finds you with tears of your own. “How old are you Ceres?” He manages, his voice rough with emotion.

Ceres pulls back to look at him, confused at the question and you chuckle, “she’s two.” You stroke her back as Marcus holds her and you see the emotion in his eyes. “Everyone thinks she is yours. Everyone thinks she was conceived during wedlock. She’s safe and she’s provided for. That’s all I want is for her to have everything I can give her.” You explain, “you can be her father in public.”

“But she calls you her mother?” He asks, wanting to understand the dynamics of your situation. “Yes, but that is because I am all she knows.” You explain and he agrees that it is a good explanation. “Do you- I don’t want to take her from you.” Marcus murmurs softly.

“You won’t. You’re her father. She needs her father in her life.” You say, “no one expects you to stay away. As far as everyone is concerned, she is not a bastard and she is my niece. It’s safer this way.” You assure him with a smile, “I want you to be in her life. In our life.”

“I wish I had married you before I left.” Marcus murmurs quietly, Ceres distracted by the emblem on his cuffs and not paying attention to the adults' conversation. “Your father wanted me to wait until the mourning period was over.”

You scoff, “he wanted you gone. As soon as you left, he was trying to get me in the emperor’s sights. Ceres was more likely to win his affection in my opinion but apparently he prefers women with more curves. Until I found out I was with child and my father sent me away.” You confess, “he never planned to allow me to marry you. He spoke with his contacts to ensure you were sent to war.”

Marcus hisses in anger, knowing now why other men had been rotated home and he never got the chance until he had been promoted to general. “I am sorry.” He murmurs softly. “I would-“ he bites his lip, knowing such comments are treasonous. “I wish things were different.” He admits softly. “If anything, I wish you were happy with your life.”

You swallow harshly, feeling the tears sting in your eyes, “we didn’t - we weren’t meant to be. If Ceres has an incredible life, then I’ll be happy.” You confess, “it’s all for her.” You smile at your daughter.

Ceres has ended up curled against his chest when she loses interest in playing with his clothes. Smiling back at her mama and slowly starting to close her eyes. Apparently Marcus is comfortable and she feels safe enough to go to sleep. “Would you marry him if you had any other choice?” He asks quietly, glancing around.

You glance around and look back at him, “I don’t want to marry him. I wouldn’t if I had another choice but I need to protect Ceres and I have no funds. If I didn’t marry him, I’d have nothing and my father will not help provide for Ceres. I’d have no home. No coin. I’d be all alone.” You confess, “and that scares me.”

“You wouldn’t be alone.” Marcus promises immediately. “She is my daughter and she will have everything I possess.” He licks his lips and looks at you softly. “Just like you will. I - I will care for you and provide for you if you choose not to marry him.”

Tears escape your eyes and you quickly wipe them away, “I have no choice. You know he’d rather kill me than let me go. No one says no to the emperor.” You whisper, “I still love you, Marcus. I never stopped. I’d marry you this second if I could.”

Marcus sighs softly and nods. “I know. If it were possible, I would say that we leave.” He wishes that the fates were different, but they aren’t. “Has Geta-“ he breaks off, unsure if he wants to know.

You shake your head, “no. No. He wants - he wants everyone to believe that I’m pure so there’s no question about his heir. Even if it were in private. Thank the gods.” You sigh, “and Ceres is well cared for.” You add, knowing that there’s nothing you can do. You’re resigned to your fate and tortured by the man you love standing in front of you.

Marcus feels guilty and he wraps his arms around his daughter. “I will always love you.” He promises, “I never stopped in all the time we have spent apart.”

Your heart breaks and you nod, “we were never meant to be.” You smile sadly as the guards approach and Marcus keeps his hold on Ceres. They say your name and you stand a little straighter, “the emperor is requesting your presence. Without the child.” He adds and you frown, “I will need to return her to her room then I will join the emperor.” You say and they nod, walking off. You sigh and look to Marcus, “Ceres, say goodbye to your father. We must go.” You order and she pouts, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Bye bye.” She says and you take her hand after Marcus releases her with a “bye, puella.” He smiles and you guide her through the gardens, looking over your shoulder at him as he stands there watching you leave

Marcus sighs as you walk out of sight. He still has not been able to leave the palace, but he has sent word to his father. Wanting the estate to be prepared for his arrival after so long away from home. The elder man had not sent any message back, so he was uncertain if it had even arrived.

**** 

You stumble down the hall, your robes ripped and blood dripping from your nose as you blindly reach for the door that leads to the rooms where Marcus is staying. It’s been two weeks since he arrived and he’s spent a lot of time in the gardens with Cere, bonding with her, and you’ve allowed him the time. You’re confused about why he’s still here when the emperors want to send him out for more conquests but he’s here and you want him to enjoy his time with his daughter. Geta had called you to his rooms and you’d been curious. He’s kept himself busy with his whores and orgies and you have been happy that he hasn’t approached you even though your wedding day is quickly approaching. You bang on the door of Marcus’s room, your head fuzzy, and you feel sick.

Marcus frowns when he hears the frantic banging on the door, moving over from where Ceres is napping to fling it open. His eyes widen and he lunges forward to catch you before you collapse in a heap in front of his door. Exclaiming your name, he glances down the hall and listens for any sign of attack. “What happened?” He demands, pulling you inside and barring the door just in case there is some kind of uprising. The city has been uneasy and there has been a growing discontent amongst the people due to Geta and Caracalla’s endless spending on the war machine of Rome.

You cling to him, shaking in his arms, “Geta. He- oh gods, Marcus. He wanted me to- I said no and he-” Marcus holds you, “breathe. You need to breathe for me.” He demands and you inhale shakily. “Geta wanted to fuck me before the wedding and I couldn’t - I said no so he - he grabbed me and I fought. He hit me and slapped me and called me - called me a whore. Said he couldn’t - that I gave it up for you but not the emperor. I thought he was going to kill me but I managed to get away.” You rush out, your lungs stinging with the need to breathe.

“Fuck.” Marcus hisses and shakes his head in anger. “I’ll kill him.” He growls but you grab his arm. “Don’t- you will be killed.” You gasp, and he knows you are right, he would be struck down by Geta’s personal guard. “We will leave.” Marcus tells you instead, grabbing a cloth from the table to wet with water from the pitcher he had for Ceres. He wipes the blood off your face gently. “Now. We will take our daughter and leave Rome right now.”

You have to get away. Geta has hit you more times than you’d care to admit to Marcus and you couldn’t survive a marriage to him. Especially if he could go as far as to try and force himself on you. You are exhausted from fighting but you know you don’t have a lot of time. “We need to leave as soon as it’s dark. They will come for me again. He will want to apologize. That’s what he’s done before.” You confess and Marcus growls, “he’s tried to-?” You cut him off, “not - he just hit me when I did something wrong or I put Ceres before his needs.” You confess, “we need to go. Tonight.”

Marcus grits his teeth together, trying hard to keep from squeezing your arms in his own fit of anger. “Can you pack anything or would you rather leave it all behind?” He asks and you shake your head. “I could not get anything out of the palace without someone seeing.” Marcus rocks his jaw. “I will order a carriage to take my belongings to the villa tonight.” He decides. “You and Ceres will hide in the trunks. Dress her in multiple layers, yourself too.” He explains. “Only what you can wear on your body. My trunks will be handled with care by the men.”

You nod, knowing you need to take Ceres away from this place. All the coins in the world cannot make you stay in this place with the monsters who lead the empire. You can't help yourself as you surge forward to press your lips to Marcus's, adrenaline rushing through you.

He worries that you will hurt yourself, your face sore from Geta’s attack. “Amor.” He pulls back and searches your beautiful, swollen face. “We don’t have to do anything, I will get you away from here.” He promises.

You nod, feeling rejected but later when you think about it, you’ll appreciate his clear mind when you were all over the place. “I know. I- I love you.” You caress his cheek and look over at Ceres. “She looks so much like you when she sleeps.” You smile, wincing at the way your face aches.

“Have some wine.” Marcus urges, guiding you over to a chair and then rushing over to pour you a cup. “I love you, sweetheart. I will make sure that you escape this place.” He promises as he brings the cup to you. “You and our daughter. We can go to my villa and then I will make plans for us to leave Rome

You take the wine and down it, hands shaking and you know you can't take anymore from Geta. You look at Marcus after glancing at Ceres. "Get us out of here." You demand and he nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You grip his forearm and lean against him, breathing him in.

He doesn't want to leave you, but he has to make arrangements. He needs to speak to the few officers that he trusts. Making plans to make sure that you get out of the city to his villa safely. Once you are there, he will still have to move quickly, but he will leave Rome behind with you and Ceres. Making a life together after so much time apart.

**** 

You wait for the knock at your door, Marcus told you the plan after you’d left his rooms with Ceres in your arms. It’s dark and you wrap the cloak around you and Ceres as you gather what you can carry on you and make your way to the door. A man stands there and you narrow your eyes at him, “he said the word was ‘lilies’ .” You nod, knowing that Marcus used your favorite flower as a code word, and you follow the man through the halls and out into the shadowed alleys of the palace.

Octavius is nervous as he guides you out of a side courtyard door that is suspiciously unguarded. His faith in his general is unwavering, but he knows that you are Geta’s intended empress. The door swings open silently to reveal the wagon loaded down with trunks on the other side of the thick wall. “Hurry.” He moves to the back and opens the largest truck to reveal that it is empty besides a thick fur for comfort.

You eye the trunk, nervous but you need to do this to save yourself and save Ceres. You get into the trunk and reach for Ceres. The guard places Ceres in the trunk and closes the lid. “Mama.” She whimpers and you stroke her hair, “it’s okay, my darling.” You coo, kissing her hair.

Every soldier loyal to him surrounds the wagon. Marcus himself is cloaked so he will not be recognized by the guards as they start to slowly travel down the narrow alleyway, away from the palace. His hand grips his sword under his cloak, ready to pull it from the sheath if one of the centuries moves wrong.

You are anxious, heart pounding as the wagon rolls you and Ceres from the palace. The noises make your stomach twist and you’re so nervous to escape. You trust Marcus but you don’t trust the palace, the guards. “It’s okay.” You murmur to Ceres, “it’s okay.”

It takes nearly two hours to slowly travel to his villa and Marcus frowns when he sees the overgrown tangle of vines and dead vegetation. It looks like the home has been abandoned since he had left to go to war. "Damnit." He hisses when the wagon pulls to a stop and he hops down. "Clear the house, find wood for a fire." he instructs his men before he strides to the back of the wagon and starts to open the trunk.

You look up, blinking at the brightness of the lanterns, and you inhale deeply, praying you’re safe. “It’s okay.” Marcus promises and you shake Ceres, waking her up. “Wake up, amor. We are home.” You murmur, rubbing her back as she wakes up and looks up at Marcus. “Pater.” She mutters, reaching for him.

Reaching down into the trunk, he easily lifts her out and then sets her against his shoulder. "Let's get mama out." He murmurs, offering you his hand as you sit up. "The villa is abandoned." He tells you quietly. "We might be safe here for a day or so, but I will need to find us a ship leaving port tomorrow."

You get out of the trunk, hand shaking in fear that the emperors have found you. “They will know I am gone by now.” You choke out, “we must leave as soon as possible. Ceres needs to be safe. You know they will kill her.” You tell him, aware of how insane they are. “We must protect her.” You reach out to caress the cheek of your daughter.

“We will stay tonight and then leave tomorrow.”‘Marcus promises, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “The men are gathering wood for a fire and we will make sure you two have a warm bed.”

You caress his chest, leaning into him and breathing him in. You feel safe for now and it doesn’t take long for you to settle Ceres in bed by the fire. You stroke her cheek as she sleeps, watching over her, and you look up when Marcus walks into the room. “My men are stationed at the entrances and I have someone watching the horizon for any intruders.” He says and you nod, looking back down at Ceres. “All this effort for me.” You sigh, “she would’ve been protected by the emperor and I- I would’ve been fed to the dogs after I gave him what he wanted.”

“You don’t know she would have been protected.” Marcus shakes his head. “Geta is spoiled and vicious, a dangerous combination.” He throws some more wood on the fire. “I would risk all of Rome for you, our daughter.” He tells you. “I would fight to the death in the colosseum for you.”

You shake your head, “hopefully it doesn’t come to that.” Your heart clenches at the thought of Marcus fighting for his life because of you. You stand up, leaving Ceres to sleep and you cover her up. “You need to rest.” You tell Marcus, noticing how exhausted he looks.

“You should sleep too.” Marcus comments, knowing he won’t sleep well tonight. He will be up and down, checking in with the guards. “Come.” He offers you his hand. “Come to the gardens with me.”

You take his hand, letting him guide you to the gardens and you squeeze his hand when you are surrounded by the walls of the courtyard. “My poor plants.” You sigh, “and vegetables. I worked so hard on that garden.”

“I know.” He murmurs, rubbing your arm. “Wherever we settle, I will make sure that you have a garden you can enjoy.” He promises. “The entire courtyard will be for your enjoyment.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around him and you tilt your head towards his, “thank you. For everything. You saved us and I- I love you so much.” You lean closer to kiss his jaw, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Marcus promises. “I prayed for you every day.” He doesn’t tell you how disappointed he was when he never heard anything from you; but he knows why now.

“And I you.” You promise, cupping his cheek, bringing his dark gaze to you. “I love you, Marcus. I always have. Since that moment you helped Ceres.” You tell him and his eyes soften, “I wanted it to be you. From the start.” You sigh and nod, leaning in to press your lips to his, “we will have each other. No matter what it takes.” You whisper against his lips until you tilt your mouth to deepen the kiss.

This time Marcus doesn’t pull back from you. He opens up, allowing you to take charge of the kiss, to control what happens now. So much of your life has been dictated and he wants you to feel like you are in control. Groaning into your mouth when you slide your tongue against his.

You slide your hands around to grip his neck, pulling him even closer and you moan as you slide your tongue into his mouth, loving how he surrenders control to you.

Marcus closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss and his hands slide down to your ass and he palms it gently. He loves your body, always has and even though you have been apart for so long, he wants you.

You moan into his mouth, feeling him harden against your hip and you slide your hands down to caress his chest, “I want you, amor. I need you.” You pant against his jaw, pressing a kiss to the stubble that’s formed there. “Please take me. I’m yours.”

"Here?" Marcus asks, but you are reaching down and squeezing his cock through his tunic and he groans into your neck as he presses his face into your pulse, inhaling your sweet scent. You would love having sex in the gardens, as much as you loved spending time here. "The wall," he growls, moving you towards it. The short wall would be perfect to prop you up against and make you cum.

You let him walk you backwards and when he grabs your thighs, he lifts you up onto the short wall. You’re already wet for him and you reach for the hem of his tunic, pulling it up so you can wrap your fingers around his hard length. “Marcus please.” You beg, needing him.

He knows you have not had any man but him between your thighs and he groans when you start to pump his cock. “Uxor.” He moans, knowing that while it might not be official in any legal capacity, you have always been his wife in his heart. From the very beginning. “I’ll give you what you need.” He promises. “Do you want me to fill you?” He asks softly.

You whine, “yes. Want to feel all of you. I don’t care.” You tell him with a moan as he shuffles closer. “Please, Maritus.” You demand and spread your legs wider for him. He hisses when he shuffles closer to slide the head of his cock through your folds.

He should work you open on his fingers, but he’s too eager for you to care. Gripping your hip as he starts to slowly push into you. “Fuck.” He pants your name, pressing his lips against yours as he breaks you open. He knows his soldiers won’t disturb him unless it’s important, so he can take his time with you.

You whimper, letting him work you open with each rock of his hips and you are moaning his name, pressing your lips to his chin as he takes his time, making you pant as he stretches you out for only the second time ever.

One he is fully buried inside you, he closes his eyes. “I love you.” Moaning softly, he tries his hardest to hold still while you get used to him, your walls fluttering around him so beautifully. “Fuck.”

You caress his shoulders over his tunic, admiring the way he looks in the moonlight as he starts to move inside you. “That’s it, Maritus. Take me. I’m yours.” You promise again, wrapping your legs around him.

He loves that you are calling him your husband, holding onto your hips as he sets a pace that is slow and steady. Taking his time to fill you and then pull back. Wanting to feel everything as he reacquaints himself with the way you feel around his cock.

Your head lulls back and he leans forward to kiss along your neck. “I love you.” You promise breathlessly, “I always have. Always.” You vow and he bites down on your chin, wanting to claim you completely and you gasp, walls fluttering around his cock.

Marcus growls out your name, feeling possessive over you. You’ve had his child, you’ve given him your innocence. You are his. He’s not leaving you or letting you go this time. He will fight to the death for you and Ceres.

You are breathless as he rocks into you, making you gasp his name, and you cling to him. The wall digs into your flesh but you don’t care. You want him to ruin you, to take what's his and he does. He rocks into you, hard but slow, and you whimper his name again. “Gods, that feels - right there.” You choke, clenching around him.

“Right there?” He huffs, smirking at the awe on your moon lit face. He rolls his hips again, wanting you to come apart for him. “Thought about you for three fucking years.” He confesses. “Imagined coming back to you every day, finding you in my tent.”

“I wish I was there. I would’ve made sure you had something to fight for. To make you feel good.” You promise with a gasp when he starts to thrust into you a little harder. “I would’ve been yours every single night.” You vow, “I am now. Yours. Completely. Always.”

“You are mine.” He grunts. “You, our daughter. You are going to be beside me for the rest of our lives.” He grits his teeth and lifts your legs onto his hips as he fucks into you.

You moan his name as he rocks into you, getting you closer and closer to your peak. “Yes. Gods, Marcus. I- fuck. I am going to- I need - your fingers. Please.” You beg, moaning and your thighs shaking but you need more to send you over the edge.

Marcus hisses at how close you are, releasing one of your thighs. Snaking his hand down between your bodies and pressing his thumb against your bundle of nerves. Pressing his lips to yours to absorb your moan as he starts to rub. “Cum for me, uxor.”

You can’t deny him even if you tried. You clamp down on his cock within seconds and cry out his name. You soak him and your chest heaves, finally returned with the man you love. You caress his chest, “fill me up. I don’t care.”

Marcus hisses in pleasure, your words sending him over the edge. He pumps deep twice more before burying his cock. Throbbing inside you as he paints your walls with his seed. He could get you pregnant again, but he doesn’t care, he would love that. Once you are safe, he wants more kids with you, and wants to be present for your time carrying them.

You moan his name, loving the way he fills you up without care and you know he will keep you and Ceres safe. No matter what. “I love you.” You pant and caress his chest over his tunic, “we will be safe tomorrow.” You promise despite not knowing what tomorrow holds. You spend several moments kissing and caressing while he softens inside you until he pulls out and tells you you need to rest. “Rest with me.” You order, noticing the darkness under his eyes.

“After a check in with my men.” He promises. He knows he will wake every hour to check in, but he will give you what you want and lay down with you. “Love you.”

You smile, caressing his cheek and he takes your hand to press a soft kiss to your palm. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep with him wrapped around you and he strokes your side as he watches you until he pulls himself away to speak with his men. Tomorrow, you’ll escape from the clutches of the emperors.

**** 

Marcus woke several times during the night but after the guards had traded off, he had stayed asleep. He had given strict orders to wake him if something happened, but he had curled around you until just before the sun broke the sky and one his men rushed into the villa. “General! We have a rider approaching!”

Marcus is swift to get out of bed, grabbing his chest plate and sword after tying his sandals to see what the rider has to say. It’s likely an order of execution from the emperors for everyone here. You gasp, waking up and you rush to get Ceres, wanting to protect her while you hear the news from the rider.

Coming out to the gates, Marcus frowns when he sees a lone rider, a dispatch messenger. His only job is to ride to the prominent villas with important news, although only one other man in Rome had known he was going to be here. The man he had left behind to send word about the order to execute Marcus for kidnapping the future empress. He must have been sent here by Octavious after he had parted ways once you were in the trunk. “News!” The messenger cries before he even pulls his horse to a stop. “Emperor’s Geta and Caracalla have been killed!”

You are holding a moaning Ceres, angry at being woken up, when you hear the news. Your eyes widen as you look over at Marcus. You don’t respond, too in shock, and you shake your head. “They are dead. The senate - they heard you had escaped and quickly moved to form a coup. They stabbed the emperors when they gathered to discuss your execution.” The messenger declares and Marcus frowns, “and where is your proof?” He asks and the man holds out a coin. It’s covered in blood but you know it. Geta had it on a string around his neck. A charm his father gave him when he was a boy. “He’s dead.” You choke in relief, “we are free.”

Marcus nods, turning and crushing you against him. “I will have to return to Rome.” He tells you quietly. “Stay with my men.” He still doesn’t trust it not to be some kind of trap; but he doesn’t want to worry you. “I will be back tonight.” He promises.

You cling to him, “Marcus. What if it’s a trap?” You ask, knowing that the emperors are evil and you wouldn’t put anything past them. “I know, but I have to make sure. We need to know for certain.” He says and you cup his cheek, “come back to us.” You demand, pressing your lips to his.

“I will.” Marcus presses his lips to yours again and again. “You are my uxor.” He tells you quietly before he looks to the men who follow him, gathered around him silently without you noticing. “Protect the general’s family with your lives.” He orders them.

Ceres reaches for her father and he pulls her close for a second, kissing her cheek. “Be good, my girl.” He murmurs and she pouts, “pater.” She wants him to stay but you know he has to go. He will never settle without knowing for certain that you are safe. “It’s okay, amor.” You murmur to her, “pater will be home soon.”

“Help her restore the villa.” He instructs his men, hanging you a large bag of coins. “I will be back as quickly as I can.” He promises again before stealing one last breathtaking kiss.

You watch him go, your heart clenching in fear that this is a trap and he’s going to be killed. You hug Ceres tight, the bag of coins in your other hand, and you look at his men. “Well, gentleman, let’s get started. We have a lot to do to make this place suitable for the general’s return.”

**** 

Three days later, a rider approaches, the guards tense and gripping their swords as they wait. Until they recognize the general, calling out for the gates to be opened, to greet Marcus as he comes galloping into the courtyard calling for you and Ceres as he jumps off his horse.

You are in the garden with Ceres, showing her how to plant some flowers and you look up when you hear his voice. “Pater!” Ceres shouts and runs towards the gate where Marcus is and you are relieved.

He’s relieved to see his daughter come careening towards him. Bending down to one knee so he can scoop her up with a grunt. “Little one!” He hugs her close and kisses her cheek. “Have you been good?”

Ceres nods, hugging her father tight with her arms wrapped around his neck. You walk over, your heart thumping in relief, and you rush towards him, wrapping your arms around him and Ceres and you press your lips to his.

“I’m home, uxor.” Marcus promises you with a soft smile. “The emperors are dead.” He had made sure of it and stayed for the coming changes to Rome. “You and I are to return to the city to be married. And I have been promised that we will not be sent off to war for at least a year.”

Your eyes widen as you look at him, “we are to be married?” You ask and he nods, “the senate have approved it. I have claimed Ceres. We can be at peace.” He vows and you choke, “finally.”

“Finally.” Marcus smiles at you and leans in to press his lips to yours. “We will be together. And I will make sure that you never have to worry about your future again.”

**** 

You smile at Marcus as you look out across the fields, the baby boy at your breast as you cradle him while Marcus shows Ceres how to plant a seed for vegetables. You’re married and at peace. What you’ve always longed for. Marcus may have rescued your sister that day in the market, but he’s saved your life and you’ll always love him for that.

[kalki-tarot]

Your First Date with your Fs! 💌

Pick only one picture. Kalki tarot is not responsible for any decisions you make in your life from this reading(s). Use your brain and be mindful.

Please Allow me to tap into your energy.

Tap on Masterlist for more.

Pile 01

For some of you this date may be through arranged marriage or some female member from your family will first introduce you to them.

For others I'm getting that you may have 2 options to choose from, and you choose them after a lot of thinking and introspecting. Because i see you really wanting someone long term.

I'm seeing that your fs could be someone very shy and introverted on the first date, they may not really seem that talkative you know? Those people who only talk when nessecary.

This will take place when you are in some really busy or hardworking phase in your life. Maybe you just started a new job or you are a very busy person in general. The first date can be near water, like beach, seas, lakes etc. This can also take place in an amusement park.

Before the date you will be very anxious about what will happen and what not. Very scattered energy and overthinking is coming from your side. But anyhow, you really look forward to it and future of you guys together. If you last long or not? All these thoughts will cover up your mind.

For some of you, I'm also seeing that you may not be able to sleep a day before the date due to excitement, racing hearts and thoughts lol. You really are very anxious about it.

On the other hand, you future spouse too seems to be a little worried. They are someone who were heartbroken in the past, they were too giving in relationships but never received enough. So these thoughts may resurface and they may start to overthink too. They will be curious to know if you are someone genuine and trustworthy or like their old partners.

Okay, let's see how the actual date will be! I'm seeing that your fs may insist to pay even if they have less amount of money, such a gentleman/woman. The feminine (not gender specific) in the connection may take a lead throughout the date as they may have planned it all together.

I'm also seeing you guys talking about your future visions and goals. All the things you desire to do and achieve in your life. You both may have similar goals or interests which will be very interesting. You may also talk about some intellectual topics like politics or Philosophy.

Your chemistry together would be fabulous. Like two puzzle pieces perfectly joining together and making sense. The date will be very nice, so don't worry about it. Just be yourself and show your true self. I'm also seeing you guys will want to have another date too. You both will look forward to meeting each other again. Lovely!

Pile 02

Wow! This date will be a surprise for you. Your fs won't tell u where they are taking you, as it will be a surprise for you. I'm also getting a scenario where you are literally blindfolded and when they show you the place you get very surprised.

Your fs can be a foreigner for some of you. This date will be in a different location or country than you live in currently. The date will be fun and entertaining. Your fs may buy or gift you a small piece of jewellery to keep as a memory.

The masculine will literally dress up their best on the first date ! I'm seeing someone putting on white shirt and perfume. This date can happen at a formal place like a fancy restaurant or bar. They would want to smell and look their best.

I'm also seeing that you guys may drink wine together as I'm seeing them pouring you a glass. They will talk about what you expect from them and whatever they can provide for you in the relationship. They are someone very selfless and giving.

For the feminines, I'm seeing that she was forced to show up on this date by their friend or family member. She is very busy and had to take out time from her schedule. The feminine will really show up in a silky satin dark purple and shiny dress. She will look very sexy and appealing. The masculine will get swayed by her appearance lmao.

About the actual date, I'm seeing love at first sight. You guys will fall for each other and you will be surprised by how great you two match together. You will be amazed by how different your ideologies are but still you guys do great together. You will take this as a sign as they are the one for you.

One thing specifically I'm getting is that please specify and clear your past in front of your fs on the first date itself. Some people may try to ruin things for you. please be careful and don't lie to your fs about anything. They are very understanding and will understand you.

You should also consider to have another date, as I'm seeing confusion for you. Take things slow and steady.

Pile 03

This date will happen after you've got stable in your career and now you wanna explore love in your life. For some I'm also seeing that you will be in your 30s when this date takes place, take whatever resonates. It's never too late for love.

You may consult your friends or even a tarot reader before the date for necessary precautions because Your mind will feel somehow conflicted and underconfident. But your angels will be supporting you.

Wow, for your fs i can see that they really are in love with you and want to propose you for marriage as soon as possible. It's because they love you so much and don't wanna lose this great opportunity.

They will be daydreaming about you and trying to brush up their flirting skills. They really wanna woo you fr.

You guys can meet in a hospital or a court, some strict and structured place is what i can see. Or their/your profession can be lawyer, doctor, teacher, professor etc.

Your first date can be in a zoo, animal shelter, park, or you can try pottery,painting or some hand craft thing on your first date.

This occasion will heal your inner child a lot. You will finally be at peace and feel like home with your person. You'll feel better and lighthearted. You won't even realize how fast the time passes. You will get this feeling on the first date itself that they are your counterpart, the one you're meant to be with. It will feel serendipitous.

I can also see that your fs has both fire and water signs in their chart prominently.

[penkura]

last forever [7/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: I apologize for glossing over and skipping fights and so much of this arc. Writing violence is not my forte, and I'd rather focus on the main relationship. We all know how One Piece goes anyway. I had to go back and refresh myself on some of the details, it's been a while since I read/watched Water Seven and Enies Lobby.

But also, I was SO NERVOUS writing a certain part of this, its NOT my usual style omg. But I needed to write what I did when it popped into my head. Just wait until a bit later, though omg. This stays SFW, I swear.

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6]

When you finally make it to Water Seven, after your run in with the Foxy Pirates and Admiral Aokiji, it’s nice to be somewhere you recognize. Having only been here a few times when your dad had business and he chose to bring you and Elias, it was always your favorite trip to take when your mother would let you tag along.

The only person who knows this at first, apart from Zoro, is Sanji, when you choose to go into the city with him as Zoro watches the ship; Luffy, Nami, and Usopp go to exchange the gold for actually money, and Chopper goes with Robin to find a bookstore. Sanji laughs a bit when you tell him you’ve been here a few times, give or take.

“You may have been a bit sheltered, but you were well traveled!”

Laughing in return, you tighten your arms around Sanji, laying your head on his back as your Yagara ride continues down the water street, watching all the people. It’s been so long, you forgot how lively this city was.

“Mom would always try to make me stay home with her, but I’d cry and throw a tantrum until she let me go, normally because my brother asked for me to. I was a little spoiled back then by Elias.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Sanji looks over his shoulder to give you a smile, “You were the baby, that’s expected.”

“Tch, yeah,” scoffing, you don’t look up at him, “The baby no one but my brother really wanted.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead just patting one of your hands, which makes you fist his shirt in your grip for a moment before relaxing again. Sanji knows more about your life growing up than most of your crew, only Zoro really having the nearly full story. Even then, you’ve kept somethings to yourself, not because they were painful memories, but because they were some of the few good times you remember, they were more precious to you than any other memories.

The two of you quickly find the shopping district and purchase copious amount of local foods, Sanji reeling off different ideas for dishes as he catches sight of Robin, grabbing your hand to drag you along and around a corner he swears to you he saw her go down, but she’s nowhere to be seen and neither is Chopper.

Your doctor does find you both a few moments later, apologizing on your way back to Merry for losing Robin, but you tell him not to worry, she can take care of herself, she’ll come back later.

When you get back to Merry, the update Zoro gives you feels like a knife in all your hearts. 

“What do you mean Merry is unfixable?!”

“Just what I said,” Zoro doesn’t fully look at Sanji, instead making sure you’re all right with the news, though the frown and starting of tears tell him you aren’t, “A shipwright came to check and said so.”

You hate the idea of having to give up Merry, whether that’s what Luffy’s decided yet or not, you aren’t sure, even as Nami returns and the situation gets worse with Usopp having been beaten by the Franky family and the two hundred million beri being stolen from him. The money didn’t matter, what mattered was Usopp, the rest of your crew going to find him and Luffy but Nami clinging onto you to stay with her, which you do to keep your friend safe.

The rest of the day is a blur, after Usopp is brought back, his fight with Luffy over Merry, and how quickly the rest of you leave to a hotel in the city. Some would probably think it’s strange that you’re holding so tightly to Zoro the whole time, rarely letting go of his arm, but you feel like you need some stability with how things have changed so much in just a day. You all still don’t know where Robin’s gone, you plan to go with Sanji and Chopper later the next day to try and find her.

For now, Zoro doesn’t mind you holding onto and staying by him. He tries to understand, it’s likely you’re thinking back to your parents, having told him of how they’d argue regarding you mostly, Elias being your safe haven who would remove you from the situation for safety.

Part of you doesn’t want to sleep that night, but Zoro makes you, forcing you to lay down. Really you’re worried you’re going to wake up and everything’s been a dream, none of your friends will be there, but Zoro, who you fully are coming to believe can read your mind, pokes you in the forehead before sitting by your bed with his back to you.

“Just sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

Every part of you believes him, you’ve got nothing but trust in Zoro.

+!+

With everything that’s happened involving Robin, your crew, Galley-La, and the Franky family, you’re surprised you’re even still on your feet as you follow everyone into Enies Lobby. You’d barely slept the night before and have been awake since early the previous morning, ending up following Sanji to the sea train that was taking Robin from you all. You fight alongside him, Franky, and Usopp, er, Sniper King, to try and reach Robin, only to lose her again in exchange for your own lives.

After the Rocketman train catches up to you and the four of you board it, Nami throws a towel over you since you’re sopping wet from the rain, and you start to draw yourself back from everyone for a few moments. You just need a bit to catch your breath, to keep yourself from crying due to how tired and upset you are. It’s going to be another sleepless night as you listen to everyone try and plan how you’re all going to attack the government island, you want to rescue Robin as soon as possible, even for the selfish reason of being able to sleep properly. Zoro tries to keep you out of the plan discussion, making you sit down and rest as much as you can, giving you water and sending you the slightest of glares if you try to get up too soon.

“Stay there, wife,” he’s quiet while he tells you to stay where you are, trying to keep his slip up of calling you his wife from those who don’t and shouldn’t know, “Rest until we get there. We’ll get Robin back.”

A slight smirk hits your face as you look up at him. “Trust her now?”

Zoro shrugs a bit, leaning on the wall beside you. “I guess. I trust you and Luffy more. But if you don’t rest, it doesn’t matter who I trust.”

Ah, that makes sense, why he’s trying so hard to make you take a break, other than you’re being up for so long now.

You’ll be useless in the fighting if you aren’t as prepared as you can be, if you haven’t had any kind of rest and keep worrying over Robin and everyone else. Even when you get there, convince Robin to let you all rescue her, most of your body wants to give up and stop, but you keep going, keep running to save her with everyone else.

You don’t really mean to get separated from everyone when you go to find the CP9 members who have keys that could open Robin’s sea prism stone cuffs, but it happens and you’re left defending yourself.

A few Marines get a little too close for comfort, but you cut them down fairly quickly, before going the other way from where you came and laughing to yourself at the same time.

I’m starting to take after my husband after all.

+!+

You’ve all returned to Water Seven after rescuing Robin from the government, you’ve maybe given her numerous hugs since even though its only been a couple of hours, and your unfortunate burial of Merry that’d left most of you in tears but all of you heartbroken. So much had happened that you had to step away from everyone for a bit, while there were discussions of what to do next although Luffy had once again fallen asleep from overuse of his powers.

Truthfully you wish you could go to sleep, you’ve been awake for well over twenty-four hours at this point, it would be nice to curl up in a bed and sleep the next several days. Its times like this that make you really wonder if you’re meant to be a pirate, maybe you should just go home and do what your parents want.

“Hey, you okay?”

Then Zoro finds you like always, quietly speaking to keep the others from eavesdropping, though Nami tries, a hand on your shoulder, this time he seems to grip a little tighter than before. You know him well enough at this point, there’s just the slightest hint of worry on his face as he looks at you, brows furrowed just a bit. Zoro knows you just as well, you step away like this when things start to get to be too much, you just need a few moments to clear your head and breathe, and since you’ve had that, you give him a real smile.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you really?”

You nod, Zoro doing the same in return as he knows to believe you, before surprising you by gently taking you face in his hands, as if he’s making absolutely sure that you’re telling the truth.

Having lost track of you while he’d gone on to fight the CP9 members to get Robin’s key, his mind kept wandering to where you’d gotten off to, if you were safe, if you were fighting someone or multiple marines, he really hoped you weren’t against a CP9 member. You had to stay safe, no matter what, you and Robin were his biggest concerns at the time. When you randomly ran into him, Sanji, and Usopp, he was surprised by the relief he felt to see you were a little banged up but otherwise perfectly fine. He’d made you let him carry you on his back the rest of the way, until you got to the ship and were able to safely be on the ground again. He’d barely let you out of his sight since then.

Zoro doesn’t make whatever worry he had about you obvious, only looking like he’s fighting to find something to say while he holds your face and you continue to smile, tilting your head.

“Zoro?”

“Glad you’re okay.”

Giggling a bit, you nod before wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, your exhaustion and the fears and worries you’ve had the last few hours finally coming to surface while you hug Zoro, making him do the same lightly, to keep you from embarrassing yourself in front of the others while you cry quietly, though you know they wouldn’t care or judge you.

You’re glad Robin is back, everyone is safe and alive, you all may have lost Merry but you’re coming to terms with it.

But most importantly to you, Zoro is safe, and to him, you’re safety is just as important, even if he barely voices it. The last thing he wants is for you to be harmed, in anyway by anyone.

He'll be especially damned if it’s by his hand so he comforts you the best he can, until you’re calmed down enough to rejoin your crew, staying beside him.

He doesn’t make you release his hand as you grip onto it, instead squeezing it back whenever you do so. When you lean into his arm later on, he lays his head against your own, telling you to go ahead and sleep, he’ll get you to a bed. You make him promise to stay with you that night, and he does once everyone goes to turn in, not leaving your side for even a second.

He’ll make sure you stay safe.

+!+

Zoro isn't sure how you two ended up away from the rest of the party. Too much alcohol, yes, but his tolerance is higher than a normal person's. He knows better than to wander off like this, but you took him by the wrist and walked away with a new bottle of sake in your hand, convincing him that it would be good to get away from the noise and everyone else.

You don't normally drink as much as he's seen you do today, he wonders if it's the alcohol that's causing you to giggle incessantly and steal glances at him every bit. Not like you had to steal glances, if you two had been talking you'd be looking at him.

But you'd barely said a word apart from when he asked why you were dragging him away from everyone else.

“Just want some quiet time, husband.”

Zoro never stops you from calling him husband, he's not sure why. Your marriage wasn't real, he should stop you from calling him that.

He should, but he never does.

He doesn't now, even as you lean against him and say “my husband” over and over again. It's only the moment you crawl yourself into his lap that he feels the need to stop you, despite knowing you're drunk or at the very least tipsy enough to not know what you're doing.

“Get off.”

He still doesn't push you off, he's not that heartless.

“Nooooo…” You whine and start to nuzzle your face in his neck, sighing happily after a moment. “My husband~”

“Ain't actually your husband, you know that.”

“But you're my husband still.”

“Stop it before someone sees.”

You pout, but lift your head up to look at him. Zoro can tell more so now that you're definitely drunk, you're more emotional than he thought you'd be. He always expected you to be a giggly or chatty drunk, not emotional to the point you're pouting but also looking like you might cry.

“You should...kiss me.”

“What.”

You nod, leaning closer and touching your nose to Zoro's, making him glance away from you just the slightest bit from the proximity despite the bit of pink across his cheeks that you can see. This is the closest you've let yourself get to him ever, even the nights you sneak into his bed from nightmares, you've never placed your face so close to his.

“You didn't kiss me…when we got married.”

“We're not actu–”

“I'll kiss you then.”

You close the gap for the quickest of seconds, kissing Zoro so fast it's like it didn't happen. Despite your drunk state your face burns with a blush and you apologize, you're not sure why you did that. Must've been the alcohol controlling you or something, that's your excuse. You're both quiet but neither of you moves for a moment, before you decide to get up only to have Zoro hold you in place by your shoulders. His brows are furrowed and you're not sure what's going on in his mind, before he pulls you back into a proper kiss, none of this tiny peck of the lips thing you'd just done. He kisses you fully and for more than a brief second, it's several seconds before he pulls away, leaving you both breathless and you personally shocked.

Shocked for just a moment before you take his face in your hands and kiss Zoro a third time, which he returns, surprising you when he wraps his arms around your waist and brings you closer to him (how you could even get closer when you’re already on his lap, you don’t know). You refuse to let him be the one to end this. You don't want this to end, it needs to continue, even if just for you. Even if all it does is make your feelings for him stronger, even if Zoro later tells you it was a mistake and he still held no romantic feelings for you, despite that fact he's so willingly returning such affection.

Even though, a moment later, Zoro pushes you away gently by your shoulders, neither of you able to breathe properly for a moment, catching your breath as your slowly sobering mind tries to play catch up with what the hell just happened.

You kissed Zoro, and he actually kissed you back. He didn't shove you off or yell at you or anything like that. He accepted it and reciprocated without a single word. You figured he would fight you about this, that he wouldn't accept it so easily.

Is this the progress you've been hoping for?

Once you've both caught your breath, Zoro doesn't even look at you, instead moves just enough that you get the hint and get off his lap finally. It's a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you, that has you confused. You thought things were changing, that you two were getting closer than you had been even before Luffy brought you along.

The fact he'd just kissed you back for several minutes it felt like, you thought maybe Zoro was going to confess to you, but when he still doesn't look at you, you attempt to bring him back by taking his hand, which he lets you for a moment before gently pulling his arm back to himself.

“Zoro…I…I'm sor–”

“I think…you should go to bed, [Y/N].”

“Do you,” you gulp a bit, looking away before you finish, “do you want to come with me?”

“No. That's not a good idea.”

You know this, who knows what trouble you'd bring to yourselves or the crew if you two went to your room together? Whose heart would be broken the next morning if you took things too far when you weren't fully sober? You didn't know, the thought of either of you being hurt made your heart ache and you couldn't bear the thought.

So, instead of trying to convince him things would be fine, you really just wanted to sleep with him next to you, you nod, standing up and dusting yourself off, grabbing the bottle you'd brought with you and looking at Zoro again.

“Are you–”

“Gonna stay here for a bit.”

It's all you can do to nod again, apologizing for pushing things too far before you turn and leave, doing your absolute best to keep your tears to yourself as you return to the party, giving Nami a small smile when she asks where you've been, promising her you'd just gone off to spend some time alone.

She doesn't believe you and intends to get all the information she can later, but she does give you a hug that nearly pushes you over, and says she'll beat up whoever made you sad, especially if it's Zoro, earning her a laugh before you return to your room at the hotel.

I wish he had come with me…

Truthfully you don't regret kissing Zoro, not even a bit. Despite his rejection of your feelings, the fact he so willingly kissed you back made you believe that maybe things were changing in your favor.

Perhaps it was because he was drunk, or maybe he was sober enough that he knew exactly what he was doing, especially when he denied returning to your room with you.

Either way, even with your heart aching from another rejection, it feels like you're making progress with Zoro and your relationship with him, little by little.

For his part of it all, Zoro stays in the same place you'd left him for nearly an hour, trying to calm his own racing heart after that exchange with you.

How he never thought of kissing you before, but now he didn't want to do anything but kiss you (it's the alcohol talking, he swears it is). You tasted like the sake you'd shared and whatever sweet wine Nami had convinced you to take several drinks of. A combination he never expected to be so nice, something he didn't think he'd want to taste again. The moment he thinks about it again his heart skips a beat, and Zoro puts head in his hands in an attempt to stop such feelings.

No, no, shit I gotta stop this.

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, pulling it slightly to get those thoughts out of his head. Any focus on romance, on you he wanted out of his head. There's been too much of it lately, the want to stay close to you, to pull you away from everyone else, to give in and indulge himself in you alone. He'd told you nothing was going to happen and he had meant it.

But then you had to go and kiss him. The most innocent of kisses, a quick peck on the lips but he'd gone and pulled you back for more almost instantly. Then you made it worse by returning it again and holding his face this time, he didn't know why he enjoyed that so much. This whole thing was ridiculous, there's no reason for these feelings!

The only thing he could do to get some time to think was to push you away, refuse to join you when you went to bed. Who knows what would've happened if he had gone with you? Of course, he knew your thoughts were innocent, you'd shared a bed multiple times when you turned to him after nightmares, it was highly unlikely you were expecting anything more than to just go to sleep and wake up with a hangover, Zoro by your side in case of alcohol induced nightmares.

And he had made you go to bed alone.

That realization, for some reason, causes his heart to ache and Zoro has to finally admit what he's been trying not to, over the last several months, even with the more domestic thoughts he's allowed himself to entertain at times. Something he was hoping would fade away, would disappear over time like it always did for others, the feelings he's finally realized were going to be more long term than he expected.

Damn it all…I'm falling for my wife.

+!+

Contrary to what many may think, Sanji doesn’t particularly like being privy to romance gossip, not the kind involving his crewmates especially. He thinks that such things should be kept between a couple, so when he accidentally hears you telling Nami and Robin how you and Zoro finally kissed the other night, he’s less than pleased to hear it ended with your swordsman pushing you back, not taking you back to your room, or even staying with you for the night.

How unbelievably rude of him! To steal your first kiss, and not even walk you back to your room!

That’s what Sanji would’ve done. If any woman kissed him, he’d walk her back to her room or home, at the very least, to ensure she was safe and nothing happened. Zoro not doing that, when you were inebriated, when you could’ve been hurt or worse, it angers Sanji more than anything Zoro has or hasn’t done thus far. He views you as his best friend, he hates the way you and Zoro seem to get closer to a real relationship, only for something to happen or someone to intervene and ruin your progress. He’s been cheering for you from the start, ever since you confirmed your feelings for the swordsman, only to now wonder if it’s worth it for you.

If Zoro really is what you want and makes you happy, why does it seem like all you do lately is suffer?

Sanji doesn’t fully mean to give Zoro the cold shoulder this time, or even the suspicious looks he throws at him, but Zoro noticed quickly, before anyone else, and confronts him.

“What the hell is your problem, cook?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, you’ve been giving me worse looks than normal.”

Sanji bites down on his cigarette, finally dropping the knife he’d been holding to face Zoro with a scowl.

“I heard you and [Y/N] kissed the other night—”

“Damn it.”

“—and you didn’t bother to take her back to her room?”

“What, is that my job now?”

“As her husband it should be!”

“I’m not really her husband! Damn it, this is stupid.”

Zoro goes to leave, but Sanji stops him by grabbing his sleeve, holding on and telling him to stop.

“Look, asshole. I could care less that you two are married, real or not, or that you kissed her,” Sanji grits his teeth, finally letting go of Zoro’s sleeve, “But if you break her heart, I’ll never forgive you, mosshead.”

While Sanji turns back to continue prepping for dinner, Zoro stops for just a moment. The two have had fights before, that’s obvious to anyone with a brain, but they’ve yet to fight about you. And he wonders why it's only now, after you kissed him, that Sanji seems so hell bent on protecting you, or maybe he's always been like this, it's just more on display as you and Zoro start to get closer.

“What’s your deal with her?”

“She’s my best friend, mosshead. I just want her safe and happy, even if it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, leaving the kitchen to find you lounging with Nami and Robin, the three of you in some conversation when you look up and see him, giving a slight smile that Zoro returns with a nod, before heading off to the crow’s nest. What Sanji last said is stuck in his head, partially wondering if you told your cook what happened that night in Water Seven or if he was good at guessing, but that’s not the biggest thing he wonders about.

Would you really be happy with me, of all people, [Y/N]?

+!+

“All right, wait, so, you honestly kissed him?”

“Nami don't make me repeat myself.”

Nami laughs while Robin smiles, both amazed you got up the courage to kiss Zoro of all people. Yeah, you were tipsy at the time, even though Zoro still believes you were fully intoxicated, but you couldn't help feeling bad about it afterwards, just for a bit.

“I didn't fully think it through. I just…I don't know, I wanted to kiss him so I did.”

“I don't think he's too upset about it then,” Robin nods a bit, taking a sip of her wine, “You said he kissed you back, if he didn't push you away right off the bat, it sounds like he was positively receptive to it.”

“Yeah,” Nami quickly agrees, giving you a grin, “Sounds like you're getting yourself a boyfriend.”

“I don't think he wants that.”

“Well, what do you want? Maybe you guys could talk it through.”

What did you want? You thought you knew, to be a world renowned swordswoman, to help Luffy become King of the Pirates.

But what did you want from Zoro? Just to be with him, to stay married to him? Do you want to maybe have a family of your own with him one day? You'd had those thoughts when your feelings first started surfacing, after your impromptu wedding at that backwater courthouse. You'd stopped entertaining  thoughts for quite a while, but now, they're coming back more often.

More importantly, does Zoro want any of that with you?

“I…think… I want to be with him forever…”

Hearing Nami choke on her own drink, you give her a concerned look before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“You sound like you're in love with Zoro!”

You don't say anything for a bit, even with Nami and Robin looking at you like they're expecting you to deny such a thing. There was no way you were in love with Zoro, not at all. You two hadn't dated, your marriage was only temporary, it was meant to end as soon as you had something from your parents. You two weren't going to last forever, you weren't going to have kids together, live out your lives as a married couple. It wasn't happening.

No matter how much you may want it to. That's what Nami and Robin have come to think over time, from the things you've said to them.

“I am, Nami.”

Despite Nami's new outburst and saying she knew it with Robin laughing, you don't feel any kind of worry or fear about admitting your real feelings for Zoro. Neither of them would tell, your secret was safe as could be.

But for you, all you do is smile to yourself.

You love Zoro, more than anything. You've thought so for a while now, but finally voicing it aloud gives you a sense of peace and happiness. Whether Zoro ever returns your feelings or not, whether you two come to act as a married couple or not, you're more than happy to even stay by his side as his crewmate and friend. Even if you have to love him silently, you'd do so.

You'll hope he comes to love you back one day, but you won't force anything on him.

“I'm in love with Zoro.”

~~

Note 2: Me writing this: now KISS.

After writing: omg they kissed

[therealslimshakespeare]

Twenty Songs Challenge, written after being so lovingly inducted by the powerhouse that is sweet Mey, @the-ugly-swan . Challenge being to choose twenty favorited songs and write one shots based off of them with any pairing or fandom of my choosing. Being a weirdo and a little burned out in my own created universes beyond the fics already in works, I chose what currently inspired me most, obscure as it is.

Pairing: Henry “Hotspur” Percy and Lady “Kate” Mortimer Percy -early 15th century

Fandom: RPF, Shakespeare? Tom Glynn-Carney’s 5 magnificent minutes of a performance as Hotspur in <The King 2019> the armor alone was amply inspiring. The Hollow Crown fans feel free to imagine whoever, as you like. I love this historical pairing in about any iteration and the plot is drawn from both Shakespeare’s play and real history, the timeline, plot and politics being pretty self explanatory through the incorporated dialogue. NOTE- wordplay ahead with “cur” and “Kerr”, the latter being a Scottish clan holding great enmity with the Percy Family and charged with holding the Scottish side of the border. Also I kept Lady Percy’s name as “Kate” even though it was technically Elizabeth in the records.

Dynamic: a rough northern lord and his too good for him lady -a lady who has, through years of an arranged marriage gone horribly well, come to find his homespun gallantry and blunt ways more than a little intoxicating when knelt before her in amused deference. She could almost find it in herself to be gentle with him -if he hadn’t just started a rebellion whilst away from her at the Capitol.

Dedicated to my wifey @prompted-wordsmith who I did proselytize into the Percy cult one fevered evening with inestimable results, including her contribution of a few choice lines herein.

🕯As it Was ~ Hozier

“There is a roadway, muddy and foxgloved

Never I'd had life enough

My heart is screaming out

And in a few days I would be there, love

Whatever here that's left of me is yours just as it was”

Warnings: 18+ to be safe. a small amount of sexual content, flirtations, a husband and wife touching in public, verbal sparring and talk of making children and use of the word “bred”, swearing, use of the words “cock” and “cunt.”

The sound of hooves in the courtyard rouses Kate from her anxious stupor by the hearth, toilsome grain list forgotten on her lap. The scroll swishes to the floor at her abrupt standing, wafting out of her path as she rushes to the window.

First the clatter of a single, foremost, over-eager rider, followed at a lag by his retinue, skilled riders all and armored as befits the guard of a nobleman. They make such a clatter in the yard when they come in after him. Some petty part of her briefly considers the tactic of staying here in their chambers in protest, a quiet sign of disapproval with his errand, of discontent with his brusque leave taking two weeks agone.

Her Harry would find her anyway, and like it better that she were in their chambers. He would like it well she were so near the bed and like it ill she slighted him in her dutiful welcome -but he would not speak of that. Not one for speaking much, her husband, not on matters that plague her these days, weeks, months. Kate might have it out with him in the old way and slap him about and toss cold quips and get from him little more than the same benign aggravation and good humored laughs between, a couple dozen kisses to her neck and a grapple in the sheets.

That is what talk they would undertake were she to stay up here.

It is that lone, eager, forerunning clatter of his horse that speaks to her, speaks for him. Just as his sword and his reputation and his gruff graciousness has spoken well of him across these northern lands, his eagerness to return to her, to outstrip his men in haste to be back from his fool’s errand and into her embrace -it is all the declaration of devotion she may expect from him. It is the truest form, without jape lacing his tone or tonic of lust clouding his confessions.

Harry Hotspur, as fast to return to his wife as he is to meet a fight.

It is love, of the sort she has grown to be grateful for, and it is that and fear of losing it besides, that rushes her out from their chambers and down the polished steps, out to the great hall and past the giant outer doors, cursing a lousy servant or five and ordering a bath and commissioning supper and refreshments as she goes. The torch flames bend from her flight, a whoosh and a shadow stalking Alnwick Castle’s stone passageways until the gray light of evening pours into her sight from the opened great doors. Squires and stable boys clutter her path but they part as she dashes, nay, only a dignified hasten now, out into the courtyard where nearly all of this fool’s troup have dismounted.

There are doffed helms to the Lady Percy, the jangle of chain mail crinkling with bows and scraps of deference all around them, but she sees only him, with mist dripping on his nose and a face too boyish for the insolence he has returned from discharging.

“Kate.” he utters.

Will ever he say her name lazily? She hopes not, for that alone she will endure the unwarranted cheerfulness with which he greets her on this dire occasion. She has heard it said in anger, in jest and in passion, vows and quips, praise and warning. And now in cheerful pleasure as evening mist soaks her gown and the heavy clunk of her husband's footsteps clang ever near her on the paving stones.

“Lord husband.” she greets, hands folded over her freshly healed womb.

His stride falters and he rocks back on his spurred heels, an arms length away, an embrace so tangible she can see his jaw tick from the watering of his mouth. “Lord husband is it?” he repeats thoughtfully, eyes drifting down to the paving stones for a brief moment as if to recollect some forgotten crime, they flick up soon and in them is jesting scrutiny, “My lady wife rushed all this way, down five corridors and a furlong of Keep only to greet me thus?”

Did her rising breath betray her eagerness? Could he see her in the hall despite his business dismounting?

“Your cheeks are red.” he shows her mercy, some form of it. His form. “But -Lord husband, it is, nevertheless?”

“Unless you would prefer ought else?” she inquires, he had once thought this smile quite chilling, he had admitted after their first babe, now he finds it rousing, he has admitted after their third.

“If it please you.” his shifting stance is noisy, his tabard and sword and still clutched helm a racket of accouterments in the pattering rain.

“I have any number to offer,” she concedes, stepping nearer, a lady’s step, covering one third of the ground between them that he might vanquish in a single stride. Still, he waits. “Knucklehead.” she whispers, her breath a fog and her insult as lost as vapor in the ears of his watching men, her bearing alone must satisfy their curiosity, as must his growing smirk and rising color, “Jackenape.” Another step until each little scar on his face is visible and the little canyons each raindrop make of them. She saw his finger twitching where it grasped his visor “Cur.”

There was the slightest flinch between his brows at that, a furrow that smoothed as his mirthful lips flattened out. “Careful now, lady wife, with words like Kerr* thrown about, my men might think you presumptuous, their lady gone and married to some other, a Scottish laird at that. So sure of my death already, sweet Kate, that you must speak of Kerrs in mine own yard? Ha, ‘pon my word you are qu-“

“Hush!” Her hand, fresh warmed as it was by recent hearthside and rich velvets pressed frimly to his lips, a tingle shooting straight to her toes at touching him at last. He was silent then, only the puff of breath against her fast chilling fingertips. “Tease me not so,” she begged, her own mirth gone out in her eyes, her arch look turned to grief, “not when you are just returned from an errand all but ensuring such an end. It is too cruel, even of you. Handle me kindly, Percy, as you always have, in words this time, if not in embrace.”

He seemed to ponder this before raising that hand not occupied with his helm, clumsy and clad in gauntlet as it was, to her wrist, wrapping the chilled and layered steel round her pale flesh and gently tugging her hand from his lips, only so far as to press it to his cheek instead, their audience of men at arms unheeded. “I betook myself to London,” he enunciated, as if it were their first night all over again and his thick borderland drawl too strong for her courtly ears to decipher, “to remind a king of his debts.”

“And tell me!” she cried fiercely, a choked, barely quieted protest as her hands dug into the wet leather of his jerkin, wrist twisted from the steel grasp, “What errand is that but a fool’s? Have you no fear at all left in this bruised carcass? Do I patch up an animated corpse time and again from your wars only for it never to have soul and feeling and wisdom in it? Do I, Harry? Gone to remind a king? How do you dare such?”

“It is he who has dared too much!” he cried back, loudly where her’s had been choked, a ringing and rebauld defense, worthy of a man who would chastise his monarch in full view of council. “First his debts, and now my son’s land! We did not make children so as to watch like blithe cowards as their birthright is bequeathed out from under our feet -piecemeal!- to a courtly cunt whose only recommendation is his alacrity to pucker and bow.”

Kate glanced about her at the men making show of industry, piddling at harnesses and armaments, walking horses in circles. Her husband's words could be no worse than what he had said to the King’s own face, anyone without stomach to become a rebel would have stayed behind in the Capitol, sensing dissension brewing. Lady Percy could perceive none missing from his number. So, a war it was to be, then.

“So, a new generation of Percys is to play at kingmaking.” she summarized.

“We make no boast of it.” Harry protested in turn.

“No,” said she, “why would you with how poorly your last choice has served you?”

That caused a start from him, a step forward that was neither gallant nor eager but angry as man to man. Kate, still with hands fisted in the crooks of his armor, stepped with him, backwards to his hall. “It is your brother with the better claim.” he showed his plan at last, a slow and conniving admission, one not common for his brash ways and straightforward mind.

Kate gasped at the implication. “Edmund?”

“He was proper heir, all along.”

“Your father-“ she chose her wording carefully, “-did not agree.”

“My father’s preference is not law.”

“It is mistaken for such, often.” Kate smirked in reply. “And Edmund is not suited-“

“-Edmund is not the turd now stealing from his vassals!” her Harry rejoined, his helmet pressed to her chest, “Edmund will do.” he reiterated once more.

Kate stared at his temper, the signs of it in his flaring nose and his wild eyes, the cure was between her thighs but watching mist drops fall from unblinking lashes was sweet prelude indeed. “Edmund,” she replied quietly and in a manner to be heeded, “is not willing or suited, he prefers instead to listen to welsh bards and lay upon the lap of his savage wife.”

Her Harry rolled his eyes at her truth, an admission, or the closest to one, she would ever receive. As if battling some great inner turmoil she watched him purse his lips and heave out a sigh before in a sudden movement the helm was tossed to the ground -much to the scramble and reaction of a half a dozen squires who ran to pick it up from its puddle- and suddenly steel hands were upon her hips, tugging her near to him even as she shied away, her face turned in a pantomime of demureness. “Strange,” he said and his tone suggested he still pondered her report of her brother's amorous preoccupations, “-and her lap so less Devine than mine own wife’s.”

“Then why do you haste from it so often?” she whined, delivering a smack against his belted tabard, right where the lions paraded across his right breast.

“Only a man dying of thirst appreciates that water has a flavor.” he reasoned and Kate allowed the open mouthed kisses that crept down her neck, her face turned stubbornly still to the south wall. The blacksmith's roof will be in need of new thatching soon, before spring. Before war.

She feels stubble against her tender skin, bracketing those pretty lips she once derided him for. No warrior ought to have lips like that, it was not seemly, not when maidens were denied such richness, such fullness, such rosy hue. But there is roughness about his lips and on his jaw as it tucks into the juncture at her shoulder, that show of clavicle her dress allows drawing him in like a siren’s song. He must’ve rode hard the entire way, no inns or refreshment, no shaving or baths, straight to her as from a battlefield. The King’s city is just as loathsome as any field of carnage, but he went to free her brother, to get a ransom, to reclaim their stolen land, to remind a king.

He did it for her, and the babes she gave him.

Kate turns her face from the blacksmith's thatch and raises her hand to his face, tenderly stroking the three days' beard that's grown as he's been on the road, riding hard to get to her. They have backed nearly to the hall’s mouth, the drip of rain off the gutter patters behind her on the threshold, Kate knows he can smell supper and hear the clatter of their children racing to meet him on still chubby legs. How different is the love of home, man to woman, Harry would sooner fight for it and she would cower within. Her thumb swipes at the raindrops making farce of tears upon his cheek.

"Princess," he breathes against her palm as he crushes her into his chest, still half armored and agonized for it as he cannot feel her softness with the cuirass, the leather, the chainmail. There are curves and bosoms and soft flesh he knows too well just on the other side of this awful barrier.

Princess will be her title if his treason succeeds, if her brother wears that cursed crown. “Princess”. It sours her mouth, but it is kind of him to wish it for her.

"You will come back, Harry.” she commands of him, she declares the outcome of this brewing war, “Soaked in the blood of feckless scum, you will come back and put another babe in me. A little prince or princess," she hisses in his ear, and she can tell he freezes at that, her concession to his treason, still as stone in his metal casings.

His eyes are ever so blue as they search hers.

"So I forbid any recklessness, my Lord Husband. Because I want this - " and her hand slips beneath his jerkin and the hem of mail to squeeze his cockstand most assuredly, as assuredly as she was that he would be sporting one for her, gripping it as one might grasp a chalice of wine during a toast "- and the rest of you, in one piece." Harry slumps against her shoulder, panting into the chilled hair and too heavy for her little frame. "Or so help me God." she intones, sharper than any steel he wields. "Swear it, Harry." She gives him another punishing squeeze, and he groans, agonized, as his mouth meets with the softness of her bound bosom, his knees the hardness of the stone cobbles. If she hadn't promised a use for his cock, he'd think she was liable to geld him herself at his presumption to seat and unseat a king, but now that he is out of her grip, for a moment, and looks up at her with such longing he fears his soul has left his chest for hers.

"So help me God." he agrees, it is in providence’s hands, after all, and in Kate’s clasped one’s atop his head.

“Fool.” she says once more as she bends over him, gently pressing a hand to the back of his head, pressing his face to her belly and her chilled fingers to his sopping hair, “It is not my brother these men fight for, nor for me. Not when it is you that calls them to it.”

“For what then?” He mumbles into her womb, hands heavy on her hips, the courtyard’s occupants dispersed into the shadows of the eaves, but a couple dozen peering eyes twinkle towards them in the twilight’s gloom.

“How often have I heard it said here, in this very courtyard.” Kate scoffs, observing the strength knelt so adoringly before her, “Have I dreamed each cry of ‘no prince save he be a Percy?’ Ha, to think they fight for a Mortimer, indeed. Ha!”

Harry staggers to his feet at this poke, it is, as are so many of his Kate’s wounds, half torment, half praise. His blood pounds with the elixir of her acknowledgment of his capability. “It is well then, Kate Mortimer,” he recites, daring now to put his lips very near her own, to nuzzle his strong nose with her hawkish one, to tip a chin and bat an eyelash against her wet cheek, “it is well that you are Percy now yourself, through and through, wed-“ his lips meet hers in a brush she chases after, “-and bred.”

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

Hope all five of you who read that enjoyed it. 😆 I know it’s a fragment but as I’m nothing but hyper fixated when some interests resurrects in me, I’ll probably be back with more of them. Drop a note below if you’d like to be on a taglist for such developments.

[pernesophe]

Arranged Marriage to the Demon Sakuragi

Chapter 3: Nightmares and Tea Cakes

WC: 7889 Synopsis: Kirishima begins visiting you at work, and one particular nightmare keeps plaguing your sleep. MDNI {TW: stalking, angst, paranoia, mention of family deaths, suggestive, slow burn} Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5

Later that night, back at the Sakuragi Residence:

Kazuhiko Sakuragi and his midnight haired Lieutenant were sitting in the Family Head’s meeting room. The house was silent other than their hushed conversation, Kirishima recalled his phone reading midnight before heading into the meeting. 

“… I think it’s possible someone was spying on Y/N.” He finished explaining what you saw and the events in the courtyard to his Boss. As Kirishima recounted the story his fists clenched on the tops of his thighs, and at times his voice would turn hushed and distressed, or he would hiss out other parts. Kazuhiko had never seen Kirishima wound up like this before. 

The Sakuragi head could already tell that no matter what Kirishima said about this deal being his duty - he obviously cared for your well being too.

The older man remained silent, nodding slowly as he mulled over the new information. After a long pause, he looked at Kirishima thoughtfully.

“All we can do is keep an eye on the situation, if that’s what you want,” Kazuhiko emphasized the last phrase, looking to Kirishima expectantly. 

“I don’t understand what you mean Boss…” Kirishima spoke unsurely, a little bewildered, before trailing off. Isn’t this a deal of a lifetime? Everlasting peace between the Sakuragis and Asanos…

“What I mean is, though I realize this Union would be beneficial to the family, is it beneficial to you? Do you feel like you could be happy with Y/N?” The pale auburn haired man spoke clearly, holding the younger man’s gaze throughout his inquiries.

“I, uh, well…” Kirishima stammered as he casted his eyes to the floor. He didn’t know how to respond. Yes, of course she would make me happy, but…

“You have a choice too. If this isn’t what you want, then just tell me.” The Clan Head commanded in a paternal tone. A father requesting that his child tell him the truth, no matter what the fallout may be.

“I’m not sure if it is or isn’t…” Kirishima started slowly - honestly. “I’m happy to get to know her, and she seems like the type of person who would make anyone happy… But I’m worried I won’t make her happy…” He wasn’t able to meet Kazuhiko’s gaze through his confession as he revealed his seldom shown vulnerable side. The insecure Kirishima.

“Do you like her?” Kazuhiko queried bluntly, choosing to take the direct approach, rather than entertain Kirishima’s self doubt.

“I-I do. She’s not what I expected - I think she’s much better than any of my expectations…” he mused wistfully, a soft dusting of pink crossed his cheeks as he finally met his Boss’ gaze. Even through the perpetual shades, Kazuhiko could see the mist in his lieutenant's eyes.

“Then I have no doubt that you will find a way to make her happy,” Kazuhiko reassured him with a confident nod that rang of finality. 

“As for the potential spy. Use your discretion - I trust that you will do what’s best. Utilize the men you trust most to handle this. There’s no way of knowing if they’re from our world or if they’re just some civilian. Keep me updated.” Kazuhiko’s authoritative tone had returned, ready to handle the issue at hand now that he was sure his Lieutenant’s heart was in it. Kirishima thanked him before giving him a respectful, deep bow and then exited the room. 

Despite the conversation, Kirishima still wasn’t fully convinced he could do much more than protect and provide for you, so in the face of whatever danger you were facing - he was prepared to get his hands a little dirty. Turning down the hall, he beelined to find Sugihara, Takeuchi and Kanehira to dole out their marching orders. He took long strides down the corridor, shoulders back, head held high, fists clenched, and lip slightly curled so his sharp canines were on full display. More like a bestial predator stalking through the shadows towards its unsuspecting prey than man at this point.

The morning after the Clan meeting, the First Lieutenants of both clans met over coffee. Kenji provided your schedule for the other, and Kirishima provided the names as well as the descriptions of the men who would be watching and gathering information about you for the time being. 

That very same morning as you made your way to the heavy glass doors of the building unease settled over your body. Unbridled dread filled your mind so much that you could barely offer a ‘thank you’ to the bald man who held the door for you before following you through the door. Instantly the reception security guard cheerily waved you over while saying she had a package for you. At the very least you were able to offer a ‘have a good day’ to the man, seeing as you were a representative of the museum. 

“Someone left this for you Y/N,” she said with a bright smile as she handed you a single Red Spider Lily delicately wrapped in stark white paper. 

Instantly you froze in place, earning a confused look from her before you inhaled deeply and walked over, though your gait was jilted and stiff. Forcing yourself to extend your arm naturally, you wrapped your fingers gingerly around the wrapping as if it would bite you. Tossing her a smile and a curt ‘thank you’, and then you sped to your office. 

The second you were behind the thick wooden door, you stepped right up to the trashcan and snapped the flower in two before tossing it in. Of course, there was a note delicately tied to the stem, but you didn’t bother reading it - sure that you already knew exactly what it said. In a flurry, you shredded old papers that had piled up and dumped them on top of the flower, then you willed yourself not to think about it throughout the rest of the day.

Although you tried to convince yourself that would be the end of it, unfortunately that was only just the start of your recurring nightmare. That night, after returning to the Asano residence bone-tired, you went straight to bed. If only the sleep you so badly desired had been as restful as you had hoped.

Over the next few weeks sleep was a scarce commodity in your life, and eventually you had to find a heavy duty concealer to cover the dark circles under your eyes. It felt as if you were dragging yourself to work more and more with each passing day. At times no matter how deeply you breathed it was like you couldn’t fill your lungs with the air you so desperately required while your heart rate spiked at seemingly nothing. Even so, you hadn’t mentioned the Red Spider Lily to anyone - without reading the note you pathetically convinced yourself it still wasn’t your stalker. 

During this time Kirishima came to visit you once a week at first, but his visits increased in frequency to multiple times a week. He would either bring you lunch to enjoy in the statue garden or take you out to coffee while Yaeka was in school. Although you wondered when you would meet the Little Lady, you didn’t bring it up - assuming Kirishima and Kazuhiko were just being cautious. Every visit Kirishima would remind himself that this was part of his job now, or that he was just gathering intel, and yet every time your rich, caramel-pine redolence would pull him deeper into his daydreams of an everlasting, happy life with you.

On Kirishima’s most recent visit, a huge bouquet of white roses was delivered to your office just after he arrived. For just a moment, you stiffened and hesitated at the sight of them, but then you threw the delivery guy a tight smile before accepting them graciously. Luckily, they were just congratulatory flowers from a colleague for a recent achievement, to which you heaved a sigh of relief. But then you looked up to see Kirishima was observing your reaction closely.

“Everything okay?” He inquired calmly, a half smirk tugging on his mouth as his smokey gaze drifted to the flowers and then back to you in question. For a moment you hesitated again, wondering how you could explain your reaction as you peered over the roses thoughtfully.

“Um,” you hummed softly before meeting his gaze again. “After losing three people I’ve just received a lot of flowers, so I’m not really that fond of them anymore. They kind of just remind me of death,” you disclosed quietly - hoping that he would believe you. Though the reason you gave Kirishima was sound, he couldn’t put to rest the nagging feeling that you weren’t sharing the whole truth.

Regardless, he dropped the subject with a calm hum, and then inquired what your favorite pieces were and if there were any here. Mostly to distract you, but your face lit up the second he asked as you bobbed your head excitedly. He had to stifle a laugh at how endearing you were, and then implored you to show him.

On the way to the exhibit, you explained that grotesque art traditionally was found in architecture and decorative art - basically made up of fanciful murals or sculptural decoration involving mixed animal, human, and plant forms. Then you told him the word was derived from the Italian grotteschi - referring to the grottoes in which these decorations were found. Though, you elaborated that the meaning has changed over time, and some pieces adhere to the more modern definition. 

With a soft giggle, you told him you enjoyed the ones that held up to the modern meaning, and then you apologized in advance in case it was weird. Kirishima thought it was adorable that you believed a piece of art could be more grotesque than some of the actions he may have performed as Yakuza, but he didn’t correct you. Silently he trailed in your bewitching woody-cocoa, and vanilla sweet-cream wake while you babbled on in whispered tones about the piece you were taking him to.

Finally, the two of you arrived in front of a canvas, framed and set at eye level on the wall of a gallery filled with other pieces ranging in size. Kirishima tilted his head at the shocking scene laid out before him. It looked to be an oil painting of a woman in a white gown laying on a table with her arms dangling on either side, fingertips almost brushing the stone floor. She looked to be unconscious, with a monkey, or imp of some kind crouched on her chest staring menacingly at the viewer. Kirishima had to admit he was a little surprised that this was a favorite of yours as he looked to you for an explanation.

“It’s called ‘The Nightmare’ by Henry Fuseli,” you started as you gestured to the piece and then the name placard next to it. When Kirishima threw you an inquisitive look, you laughed lightly before he got to see the ‘work-Y/N’ come out in full force. 

“It was painted in 1781, and sent shockwaves through the art world at the time,” Expounding on the piece as Kirishima leaned in closer, brows raised with intrigue. You went on to explain that it was an iconic piece for its vivid and unsettling portrayal of the intersection between dreams, eroticism, and the macabre. It fearlessly explored the provocative and dark subject matter of the darker recesses of the human psyche. The explanation winded down as you clarified the monkey was an incubus, which caused a juxtaposition between sensuality and horror. Which is a big reason why it's still popular and provokes discussions about the boundaries of art, desire and fear today.

Kirishima listened intently through your explanation, thoroughly impressed by your wealth of knowledge about art after only working at the museum for a few months. Although he also noticed the dark circles under your eyes and the peeling around your fingernails as if you’d been chewing them nervously. It also didn’t escape him how pale you’d started looking recently, much like the woman in the painting. Eventually he asked why you liked this piece so much, and you simpered in embarrassment. 

“I guess I just like the macabre a bit,” you relented softly as you peered back at the painting. “It kind of reminds me of volunteering in the hospital back home,” you offered with a simple smile. Kirishima blinked a couple times before looking at the painting and then back to you.

“The children’s ward?” He asked quietly, unable to hide his incredulous expression. At that, you covered your mouth to muffle your laughter as you shook your head at him lightly.

“Oh no, sorry, I haven’t brought it up yet,” you began as Kirishima cocked his head in question. “I volunteered in the children’s ward, but after a while I moved over to the burn ward. It was nothing like the childrens ward, because if someone wasn’t in searing pain, then they were just angry. Not a lot of joy was present on that floor,” you said wistfully, eyes growing distant as memories of screaming and the smell of burnt skin simmered around you. Shaking off the thoughts, you refocused and continued, “that’s why I enjoyed volunteering there. It wasn’t much, but if I just served as a distraction for a little while, then hopefully I was helping somebody,” you said with a gentle shrug before turning back to the painting.

“I kind of like ‘oddity’ types of art because they remind me of that. They’re usually dark and painful, and sometimes you can’t even fully understand it as the viewer. But it's done so beautifully. It kind of reminds me of a dying plant, y’know?” You inquired rhetorically as you looked back to your companion who was watching you intently, hanging on your every word - hints of your indulgent spiced-honey and cardamom coffee tickled his nose. “You think it’s dead, but if you just prune it back and give it some sun and water it’ll usually bounce back… I’m not really sure what the artist was going through, or what experience led to this,” gesturing at the piece, “but I feel like he took something sad, or dying and gave it new life.” As you finished speaking, you peered up at Kirishima with burning cheeks, worried you babbled for too long.

“Thank you for showing me this,” Kirshima offered immediately as he saw the embarrassment creep over your face. “I’ve never really thought of art beyond just looking at it and deciding whether I like it or not, but it's nice to hear the story behind it,” He said genuinely as he began to see a depth to you he didn’t before, and immediately found himself appreciating this side of you. Beaming up at him you nodded bashfully, before the two of you went to the stone garden for lunch.

After he walked you back to your office and wished you a good day, Kirishima returned to the exhibit to pour over the piece a little longer. Before he left, he made sure to take a photo and made a note to bring up art when you were finally able to meet Yaeka. As he exited the exhibit and entered the main entrance, he spotted Kanegiri at his post who barely gave Kirishima a nod before heading deeper into the museum.

Once he was seated in the backseat of the sleek black car headed towards Yaeka’s school, he pulled out his phone to make a call while staring thoughtfully out the window. As the car passed the front of the museum, the 1st Lieutenant saw an unremarkable man in khakis, muddied boots, with a short raven mop loitering outside of the museum on his phone. Though he didn’t really give it a second thought as the line connected.

“Sugihara, has anything come up on your end about flowers?”

The rest of the day passed without a hitch, and you were able to hole up in the lower level of the museum to complete some cataloging in peace. Today’s visit from your fiance was like a cleansing balm to the past few weeks of paranoia and fear. So you hoped that you would actually be able to get some rest when you curled up on the common room couch at home.

But as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were submerged into an unconscious abyss. At first it felt like falling through the night sky, then sinking into inky water, then suddenly the smoky wisps cleared and you were sitting before a large vanity mirror. In the reflection you could see that you were adorned in your mother’s wedding dress with her standing behind you - smiling wide with tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Oh sweety, I’m so happy for you!” She cried, gaze brimming with motherly love in the mirror staring back at you.

“Mom, you’re going to smear your mascara,” giggling as you handed her a tissue - careful not to let her tears stain the white dress as you simpered back at her.

“Oh it’s fine! You are the star today. No one will be looking at me, and besides my only daughter is getting married! How could I not cry?” Sniffling dramatically as she dabbed along her lash line.

Knock, Knock

“May I come in?” Kenzo called from the other side of the door, and your mother ushered him in. Trailing behind him were your grandparents, Kenji, Hanzo, and then Soma.

Immediately, all of them choked up at the sight of you while you swiftly waved at them to stop as you cried through brimming tears of your own, “You guys are gonna make me cry!”

“Oh, Y/N! You’re beautiful!” Your grandmother cried as your grandfather held her hand - the sight of his silver wedding band wrapped around his ring finger brought a smile to your face.

“Not to rush you… you look stunning by the way Y/N - your future husband is a very lucky man,” Kenji offered with a misty eyed smile, “but we are on a schedule.” He gestured towards the door, and you all exited.

Suddenly, you were standing at the end of the aisle with your father. Everyone was in their seats, but you didn’t remember that happening. The Asano clan sat on the “Bride’s” side, and the “Groom’s” side was completely empty.

The hairs rose up on the back of your neck, and you looked at your father, a little confused, but he just smiled in return - blissfully unaware of what could be amiss. ‘Here comes the Bride’ started playing from somewhere above you, and Kenzo tugged you down the aisle.

Looking to your future husband for the first time, unease settled deep in your gut. He was wearing a classic black tux, tall enough, maybe a bit slight, but you couldn’t see his face. A pitch black veil draped over his head and shoulders.

Glancing back to your father to see if he noticed, but his smile had widened to an unhinged grin - shadows fell over his eyes so you couldn’t read his expression.

Looking ahead again, the veil had been removed, and instead of the handsome, indigo haired man you expected, there stood a man with raven hair cut close to his head. A jagged crimson mark cut just above his left ear into his dark locks. Abyssal black eyes pierced into your own as he reached out a hand to take you from Kenzo. 

Without question, your father handed you right over, and now you stood hand-in-hand with your worst fear. 

A predatory grin broke the man’s face in half, teeth bared towards you, causing your pulse to beat wildly under your skin. His inky eyes drifted to your throat as if he could sense your fear, and his grip on your hands tightened - unwilling to relinquish his prey now.

Casting your gaze to your family and friends for help, but you see that they’ve vanished. In their place were piles of vermillion spider lilies that grouped and shaped into the people that were once there. Lining the walls were tall, bronze pedestals that were topped with shallow basins. Scorching blue flames flickered and danced in each basin, heating the room to an unbearable degree - sweat beaded across your brow.

“Are you ready my little Jingoku Bana?” he whispered, pulling your attention back to his terrifying maw. “The officiant is here.”

Turning to the altar, you saw a figure in a black hooded cloak, but there was no bible, no vows - just a bleached, boney hand outstretched. In the palm of its skeletal palm lay two rings made of briar and rose thorns. Ice cold dread seeped into your bones.

The raven haired man plucked the rings from the ‘officiant’s’ palm and put one on himself first, as he did the thorns tore at his skin, crimson droplets trickled down his fingers and splattered on your stark white dress.

Taking your left hand - you froze, unable to move - as he pushed the ring gently onto your ring finger. Despite his gentleness, you still bled, spilling matching crimson droplets down your hand - staining the once pure white fabric as well.

Glancing between the cloaked figure and the man looming over you, the thought naively entered your brain, ‘is that it?’ and as if on cue the cloaked figure reached behind its back. The figure revealed a large scythe as it was raised high in the air - the downswing aiming for your throat. 

Your muscles ached with panic as you frantically turned to run back down the aisle, but you stopped short as the blue flames from the basins licked the tapestries hanging from the wall. Within seconds, the aged fabrics were engulfed in cobalt fire. The spider lilies curled in on themselves, turning black from the heat as thick smoke filled the room.

Suddenly remembering the reaper in midswing, you lunged forward - attempting to duck and land on the floor - but two arms wrapped tightly around your torso, pinning your arms to your sides and you in place.

Your “husband’s” lips brushed the shell of your ear as his breath fanned over your cheek, but you weren’t frozen this time - bucking and kicking wildly to no avail. 

“Shh… It’s okay - we’re gonna go out together.” He whispered and pressed a kiss to your cheek as you heard the scythe slicing through the air. Fighting for your life in the last seconds, you shook and shrieked at the top of your lungs, and then finally, you begged.

“P-please! I-I don’t wan-want ta-to d-die!!” sobbing uncontrollably as you collapsed against the man’s chest in defeat. Suddenly, the room around you began to shake violently as Kenji’s voice echoed from far away. The hold around you weakened gradually as the room dissipated into smoke that eventually filtered into soft light.

“Hey! Y/N! Wake up, hey!” Kenji was shaking your shoulder gently as he tried to rouse you from your fitful sleep. Jolting awake, you were face to face with Kenji, your cheeks felt wet and you could taste salt on your lips.

“Y/N, are you okay?” his voice dripped with concern, and face set in that overprotective older brotherly way.

“Y-yeah. Just a nightmare…” you trailed off quietly. Kenji didn’t believe you - his head tilting to the side with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Are you sure about that, Y/N?” he gently urged you again to talk to him about it.

“Ha, yeah… honestly it didn’t even make any sense… I’m okay - really.” Once again, with a chuckle and wave of your hand, you spun a half truth to dispel his worry. This time though, he didn’t let it go so easily.

“We’ve all noticed Y/N. Freezing anytime flowers come into the house, or physically flinching anytime you receive mail.” His tone grew stern, but his face still set in worry. When you casted your gaze to the floor and didn’t respond, he added. “Look. I don’t know what it is that’s got you so freaked out, but I would like to know. We all would like to know so we can help you, but none of us can do that until you tell us what’s going on…” bringing your gaze back to his, and then he continued, “If you aren’t ready to talk about it right now, that’s okay. Just… whenever you are ready to talk - I’m always here to listen, and only a phone call away.”

“O-okay… Not today though… I-I’m not ready.” Sniffling a little as you whispered to him while averting your gaze to the smooth, beige fabric covering the arm of the couch.

“Okay, not today. Today we go get a treat, watch a comfort movie, and then hot pot tonight?” Kenji, having known you and helped raise you for a good part of your life, knew exactly what you needed to recuperate. Gratefully you nodded with a weepy smile before going to hop in the shower.

Later that evening after you’d gone to bed, Kenji updated Kenzo on your nightmare and that you do have something to tell them. Kenzo instructed Kenji to keep him up to date and to coordinate with the museum and hospital to allow them to send one of the more “refined” Asano members to guard you directly throughout the day. He also told Kenji to consider if a meeting will be required between the two clans about this issue.

About midnight, you were lying in your bed unable to sleep. Mind drifting to the flowers, the note, and to all the people you would eventually have to tell. The last anxious thought that floated through your brain just as sleep claimed you - how will Kirishima react?

The following morning, Kenji told you to take the day off, and go out to do something besides work. Hesitantly you agreed, and like clockwork the Asano Estate phone rang. Kenji answered professionally, and then turned to hold the phone out to you - it was Kirishima. The Sakuragi First Lieutenant nonchalantly offered to take you to look at antiques, since he had to pick something up for his boss anyway. Glancing at Kenji for any sign that this was his doing, but he seemed to have something on his phone more interesting. Finally you told him that sounded great - deciding to take Kenji’s advice to go out and do something. 

As it turned out, antiquing was exactly the thing you needed. Yaeka was in school, so it was just you, Kirishima and Sugihara which you were grateful for - since their banter easily took your mind off yesterday’s nightmare. And recent flower delivery. What you didn’t expect was for your mother to be brought up out of the blue.

The moment the three of you entered the antique shop, the older woman at the counter called you by your mother’s name. Instantly you froze in place, stunned that anyone would know, let alone speak her name. After a long moment of you and the old woman being locked in a staring contest, it finally seemed to click for her as she apologized and said she thought you were somebody else. Kirishima and Sugihara observed your reaction closely, wordlessly sharing a perplexed look.

“Oh God no, I’m sorry,” blurting out quickly as you waved your hands in front of you, plastering a smile across your face at the same time. “That’s my mother’s name, and I just haven’t heard it in a long time… I was just surprised,” you informed her, trying to dispel the tension accumulating in the shop.

“You’re Y/N Asano aren’t you?” She asked, brows raised in shock and eyes wide beyond belief. “Haha, of course! It’s been years since I saw your mother, and you look like the spitting image of her,” she said with a wistful shake of her head, a kind smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. A featherlight feeling rose in your chest, as the question teetered on the tip of your tongue - so fragile that breathing wrong could shatter it.

“Ho-how did you know my mom?” Inquiring softly as you closed the distance to stand in front of the counter where she sat. Blinking up at you in surprise, and then a nostalgic smile overtook her face as she wagged a finger at you - indicating for you to wait.

“I can actually show you,” she offered gleefully as she hopped off her stool and disappeared behind the paper doors leading to the back of the shop. 

Next to you, her husband was wrapping the antique and boxing it for the other two men while all three of them observed the interaction with intrigue. A moment later she returned with a thick album. Setting it on the counter, she opened it to the first page before beckoning you with a curl of her fingers to peer over it with her. 

Stooping slightly, you took in the photos as she pointed out the antique shop from over 20 years ago, and your mother standing proudly in front of it between the husband and wife. The next photo was of the three of them decorating the shop for Christmas, and then a New Year photo of your mom and your dad. 

“The first night they met,” the wife offered softly as she met your gaze with all the care of a grandparent. The next photo she showed you was of your mother with a rounded belly, your father staring down at her proudly, and several Asano members you knew with younger faces gathered around her. The husband stood by your father with a hand on his shoulder, and the wife stood by your mother with an expression filled with motherly pride. The banner above the four of them read, ‘It’s a Girl!’ A tear splashed over the corner of the photo, causing the wife to look up and see you stifling your sobs.

“I’m so sorry!” You said immediately, drying your eyes on your sleeves, and when you met the wife’s questioning expression you quickly explained. “Mom passed away a few years ago, and I just don’t have very many photos. Thank you for showing me these - I’m really glad to know that she’s remembered fondly,” you murmured through another sniffle.

Wordlessly, the wife takes out an envelope from under the counter and begins pulling photos out of the album before enclosing them in the manila and handing it to you with a firm nod. Stunned, you gingerly take it from her while she spoke in an empathetic tone, “Come by anytime you want to see more photos, or just hear about her.” Then she and her husband came out behind the counter to hand Sugihara a taped box, and to bid you goodbye. 

“Uh,” was all you uttered, still a little stunned, as the wife beamed up at you. Without much thought, you stepped forward and hugged her tightly as you whispered, “thank you so, so much.” Suddenly, you remembered the fact that Japan isn’t like the states, and immediately released her - stumbling over yourself with apologies for being so casual.

“Hahaha!” She burst out laughing, her husband quick to follow, as they both waved off your apologies. “You really are just like your mother,” she finally stated after her laughter had died down. Then, with another wave she told you to come back anytime as the three of you left the shop.

As the three of you made your way back to the Sakuragi residence you were ostensibly quiet, nervously thumbing the edges of the envelope. Kirishima and Sugihara flanked you on either side the whole way back, but neither of them spoke - unsure of what you could be feeling, or what to even say about it if they did

Once you all returned to the Sakuragi Estate, Yaeka was in her room playing so Kirishima asked Sugihara and Kanami to watch Yaeka for a bit. He relayed a bit about what happened to Kanami, who was more than happy to help. 

Then, he more so told you rather than asked if he could walk you back home, to which you agreed with a somber smile. On the way, he picked up drinks and some tea cakes for the two of you, and asked if he could come in at the door. Again, you agreed, and after greeting your father and some of his men, the two of you ambled to the teahouse at the back of the courtyard. Once settled side by side to watch the sunset over the high garden wall, he finally broached the topic of your mother. 

“So, um,” Kirishima began softly as one smoky iris peered at you out of the corner of his eye. “Is it okay if I ask about your mom?” He inquired gently, and you gave him a small smile and nodded.

First he asked about why she moved to the states, and you told him about your grandfather falling ill, and how it became too much for your grandmother to handle on her own so your mother chose to move back home to help. Tearfully you divulged that you didn’t want to leave, you loved it here as a little girl, but your father couldn’t come with you and thought it would be best that you stay with your mom. When the two of you moved, no one thought that it would be permanent or that she wouldn’t be coming back. 

Biting your lower lip as you blinked away your tears - trying with all your might not to break down. Kirishima’s warm hand pulled you from your thoughts, but when you peered up at him he was gazing at the sun dipping behind the wall. Turning back towards the sunset, you breathed in his warm, honey-clove, and buttery-vetiver aroma as the stinging in your eyes slowly subsided. After a pregnant pause, he ventured another question. 

“How did she pass?” Kirishima inquired oh so gently, as if his words could shatter you. Just as he feared, renewed tears sprung to your eyes, but after a moment of collecting yourself, you sighed deeply before answering.

You told him that it was just a head cold at first. And then it turned into pneumonia, and then she was just gone. Tears spilled down your cheeks, quickly you apologized while attempting to cover your face with your hands. Kirishima remained utterly silent as stray sobs made their way into the ether, before he slowly wrapped his arm around your shoulders silently drawing you flush against his side, and allowed you to cry. 

Distinct sweet-tobacco, and resinous vetiver clung to his skin, clothes and every breath he exhaled. With your nose pressed into his shirt, you were submerged completely into the raw, inky blackness of his scent - spurring you to fist your hands into the fabric for comfort as well. Kirishima was ever the stoic one as he held you - doing his best to remind himself that this was just a part of his job now as he gently pressed his nose to the top of your head. 

As her fiance it’s my responsibility to comfort her. He thought dutifully as he inhaled your scent deeply. Even if I’m not a good person, I can be a good husband if I act the part. He continued ruminating while his senses were flooded with hints of your smoky, spring-like floral, and cocoa-almond fragrance. The comforting aroma brought an image of him and you sitting in front of a shared family shrine of his parents and your mom as the two of you lit incense for them. Once again his heart showed him what he truly wanted, and yet again he stamped it down before his desires could breach containment. 

“Can I see some photos?” He finally asked, after you gathered yourself a bit. Simpering softly at the manila envelope in your lap, you gingerly pulled out the photos to show him. With each photo, he asked something about your mother, or you, or your father and you answered his questions about them happily. Eventually, you started pointing at pictures that showcased the characteristics you knew about your mother. He happily listened, and close to when the sun was finally dipping completely behind the walls you asked him a question in return.

“So, what’s your mom like?” Inquiring innocently, a kind smile tugged on your lips. Blinking rapidly, at first he looked taken aback before returning a small, sad smile.

“She passed away when I was in high school,” he informed you gently. Staring back at him in shock as a slew of emotions tore through you until you were able to jolt yourself out of the awkward silence.

“I’m so sorry, and I’m sorry it took me until now to ask,” apologizing genuinely as a notch formed in your brow, and a self-admonishing look seeped into your expression. Kirishima chuckled lightly at your genuinely remorseful reaction before waving off your apology.

“It’s okay, I don’t talk about her much anyway. Really only to the Little Lady,” he said wistfully as he stared off at the darkening wall once again.

“I’d like to hear about her sometime,” you implored him gently, eyes shining hopefully when he met your gaze again. Puffing out a small laugh at how similar your and the Little Lady’s expressions could be before he opened up a little bit. Mostly he told you about the birthday omurice his mom would make him every year, and how he made it for Yaeka this year. A fine dusting of pink danced over his bashfully proud face. Then, he told you about the Kalanchoe flowers that Yaeka suggested he get for when he visited his parents’ grave - though it seemed there was something more he wanted to say, he didn’t as a creeping quiet fell over you both.

“It sounds like she had a really kind soul,” you whispered softly. Kirsihima nodded in agreement, and you could already see the tears gathering behind his shades while a few soft sniffles escaped him. Gently, you took his hand and faced towards the last dregs of light before allowing him to gather himself. But you made sure he knew you were still present by leaning your head on his shoulder - giving him the same consideration he gave you earlier. After some time the lamps around the courtyard began blinking on one by one, and as the last one turned on - throwing light over some curly irises - Kirishima peered down at you remorsefully.

“I should probably get going,” he murmured, disappointment leaching into his voice as he slowly pulled his arm back, “the Little Lady will be wondering where I am,” he said absentmindedly. The way he spoke, thoughtful and slow, to the way he was gazing down at you were obviously his subtle attempts at stalling.

“Of course, thank you for listening to me,” you responded in a hushed tone while smiling softly up at him - hints of spiced coffee and creamy cedarwood drew him imperceptibly closer. As if the time spent and the words exchanged here were a secret for just the two of you.

“Thank you for listening to me too,” he whispered back, notes of sharp conifer mingled with a bewitching vetiver scent that had you leaning into his orbit once more. 

Practically nose to nose now, close enough that your breath collided with his before fanning one another’s lips. Kirishima’s warm palm came up to cup your cheek as you tilted your head slightly, your lips seconds from brushing his as both of your eyes fell shut. His other hand came to grip your waist as he pulled you closer, the faintest hints of peppered amber fused with leathered tobacco splashed across your tongue when his breath fanned past your parted lips. Kirishima fought the primal urge to chase the decadent creamy almond and spiced honey that clung to your breath as he felt the barest touch of your plump lips against his. Just as you leaned in to feel more of him, the sound of the sliding door made both of you jump and shoot a part.

“Oh, Y/N I didn’t see you out here,” Soma stood in the doorway completely unphased by your reddened cheeks or the way Kirishima avoided his gaze at first. “Hey Kirishima, how are you?” He asked monotonically with a calm wave, to which the 1st Lieutenant threw him an awkward smile and waved in return.

“He was just heading out,” interjecting quickly before Soma could ask anything else. Glancing back at Kirishima, who shot you a grateful look and nodded in agreement as he rose to his full height. Quickly you got to your feet as well and offered with a kind smile, “let me walk you out.”

Kirishima couldn’t help watching your curls bounce around your face from how quickly you got to your feet, or the fine dusting of pink still heating your face, or the way your eyes gleamed up at him in the lamplight. Nodding wordlessly, he followed from the courtyard to the front entrance - barely mustering a suitable goodbye to Soma, Kenji or your father on the way out. Though all they did was snicker once he was out of earshot, since the Sakuragi Demon was trailing in your wake as if you had tamed the fabled beast. A look of longing etched into his features when you bid him goodbye at the door - even leaning out to wave after him as he made his way down the front walk.

Once Kirishima was back home, and the hour had grown late, he found himself lying on one of the common room couches staring up at the ceiling. A silent debate taking place, as his budding feelings towards you quarreled with his more rational side. On one hand, he still couldn’t shake the images that your scent brought to him that first night in the courtyard - the ones where he could imagine a happy and fulfilling life with you. On the other hand, he kept reminding himself that this was his duty - he needed to marry you, form an alliance with the Asano’s, and then keep up the happy facade so the alliance lasts. Yes, he would be more than happy to protect you - he may even allow himself the carnal pleasures that come with this arrangement, and even the domestic ones that have been plaguing his mind of late. But that was still out of duty.

And yet, as he stared at the moonlight reflected on the blindingly white ceiling, he thought of how you felt so warm pressed to his side. And how your small hand held his so gently when you allowed him the space to cry, and once he was finished you just smiled at him without a trace of judgment or a word spoken about his tears. 

The feeling that plagued him the most - that terrified him to no end - was the fact that he just clicked with you. He wanted you to look at him, to smile at him. To love him. Because he felt himself falling in love with you so easily, and he desperately wanted to know if you felt the same.

After Kirishima bid his goodbye, Rei texted you to invite you to karaoke, and you happily agreed - deciding that Kenji’s advice of doing something had made you feel better, so you’d try it again. After belting a few duets to a sparsely crowded pub, the two of you settled at the bar where you told him some about recently meeting your fiance. 

“So…?” Rei asked excitedly as he sipped from the stirrer in his gin and tonic. “Is he handsome? Kind? Generous? Funny??” He rapidly fired the questions at you while bouncing slightly on his barstool.

“Oh my God Rei,” you groaned though the slight smile turning your mouth told him it was good news. “He’s so handsome I could die!” You gushed, beaming back at him as all the warm, fuzzy feelings about Kirishima came bubbling up. “And yes - kind, generous, funny! I really hit the jackpot,” you giggled before taking a sip from your Moscow mule. Rei couldn’t contain his joyful squeal at your news.

“What else? What else?” He urged you excitedly - squirming in his seat - unable to contain his excitement for you.

“Oh! He’s been visiting me at work like once a week, and look, I’ve never really dated per se but it does feel like he’s really going above and beyond,” you admitted giddily, though your companion noticed the slight drop in your smile afterwards. Shame filled your every nerve as you thought about your paranoia lately. Rei immediately arched an inquiring brow at you.

“What is it?” He whispered, leaning closer to you, and for a moment you tried to fix your smile. But then you let it drop completely, as that underlying unease began to surface again. Setting your drink on the bar in lieu of wrapping your fingers around the silver band on your thumb and twisting it repeatedly, then you looked at your friend directly.

“Um, well, y’know how I’ve told you about how I can be a little paranoid sometimes?” You asked cautiously, and Rei nodded slowly for you to continue. “Well, my anxiety has just been really bad lately, and I guess the whole engagement has exacerbated it a bit…” you admitted quietly, causing your blonde haired friend to cock his head as a notch formed in his brow. 

“Not, like, getting married… more so how my anxiety is affecting the whole engagement. I feel like I’ve been putting everyone on edge, and I’m really worried I’m gonna ruin this,” you murmured anxiously as you fiddled with the wide silver band on your thumb. Rei’s comforting hand on your wrist pulled you out of your swirling thoughts as you met his reassuring gaze.

“If he’s as kind as he seems, then I don’t think something like anxiety or paranoia could ruin this. And if he’s not able to handle it, then you two were never gonna work out anyway,” he spoke gently, but his words were firm. Smiling softly, you nodded in return as you thought back to the tea house earlier - how comforting and safe your fiance was… Maybe Kirishima could handle this.

Despite how well today had gone, unbeknownst to you, on the other side of the pub sat an unassuming figure hunched over a high table. Though his eyes haven’t flicked in your direction once, his gaze remained trained on the mirror behind the bar which gave him a clear view of your face. Unfortunately, since the pub was basically empty, he also had the privilege of hearing your conversation. 

You couldn’t explain the unease you felt that night, but if you had seen the ire in his eyes, the vice grip on his drink, or the photo on his phone - you would’ve understood immediately. Every so often, a pair of inky-black irises flicked from the bar mirror down to a picture from earlier today. It was of you and Kirishima, sitting in the Tea House - so close it was hard to tell you two weren’t kissing. Finally, his spiteful gaze returned to your giggling face in the mirror. My Jigoku Bana. Mine.

Master List (I have no rights to these characters, the works they come from, or the art/screenshots/manga panels used in this post. Screenshots taken from pinterest, so if you know the creator please lmk! White Flower Divider is from @sweetmelodygraphics and Red Spider Lily Divider is from @saradika-graphics)

Tag List: lmk if you want to be added

Kirishima's Scent is based on a mix of Encre Noire by Lalique and Guerlain Vetiver Eau de Toilette. Reader's Scent is based on a mix of Vietnamese Coffee by D’Annam and Purple Afternoon by Universal Flowering.

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5

[chloe-spade]

Prince and the Pauper Prologue: I'll be Free

Long ago, in a seldom-lived kingdom nestled in the lush greenery of the countryside, a King and Queen lived in relative harmony. They longed for a child to call their own, an heir to the throne, so that the kingdom would live on. The kingdom, though small, was prosperous, and its people were content.

One day, it happened. The kingdom was blessed with a baby boy named Amore, and the kingdom rejoiced as a new heir was born. However, the king died soon after, leaving the Queen in a world of loneliness, heartbroken, and the only person to take care of her son. Her heart ached with the loss of her beloved husband, and yet, it swelled with love for her newborn son.

In fear of the evil that is the outside world, The Queen keeps Amore inside, never leaving the castle, regardless of the situation, and never leaving unless he wants to get hurt. Isolated and alone, Amore chooses to study, and he does as he learns more about science and spends his time doing experiments. Though he would want to go outside, he already knows how to have fun inside.

💙

In the bustling village below, a retired knight named Lilia, with his weathered face and kind eyes, adopted a young boy he dubbed Silver, seemingly born on the same day as the prince. He was Lilia's joy, and he adores his son with all his being, even though he now lives under the cruelty of Lady Eliza, a seamstress he worked under.

Lilia taught Silver to be brave and loving to the less fortunate and always chose Silver over everything, despite his now poor lifestyle. Silver was always kind, though soft-spoken, and always chose to help, not harm.

As he grew, he started working as a seamster for Lady Eliza. Despite her harsh words and treatment, he never let her words damage his spirit or slow him down. He always did what she asked, never complaining—at least not to her face. But he always wanted a better life for himself and his Father and planned that one day they would leave the place and live a more peaceful life. His determination was unwavering, his spirit unbroken.

💗💙

Both of these men, with the aspirations of freedom, have never met. Little did they know, their paths were destined to cross, their fates intertwined in ways they could never have imagined.

Until…

🩷

The Queen, Serena, was told some terrible news. The royal mines seemed to be dry of jewels to make royal coins, and without that, the kingdom had no more money to support the village and its people. If the public found out, it may cause an uproar.

She had to speak with her royal advisor, Duke Divus Crewel, about the solutions. He kindly suggested combining the matrimony of another kingdom, which could help their kingdom flourish brightly.

But to do that was for his son, Amore, to wed the prince of the kingdom of the kingdom of his choice.

After a long week of discussion, Serena took a moment before she broke the news to her son.

"Amore," called Queen Serena, walking into the throne room, "Amore? Are you here? I have an important announcement to make."

Amore looks up from his book and looks at his mother in confusion. "Yes, Mother?"

"I have a special announcement to make." Amore nods, letting her continue. "As you know, our kingdom is going through a horrible money drought, and I have asked the next kingdom to order any help they can offer, and they have a solution for us."

"What is it, Mother?"

"Marriage."

Amore paused for a moment. "Pardon."

Queen Serena took a soft breath. "Yes, the Queen has asked us if you could marry her grandson, Prince Ruggie, and we could share our finances. Amore, think of this as a way to help our people, to help those who can't help themselves!" Amore silently put his book down and looked at her with disappointment.

"So, you're saying that you basically offered me up for marriage, without my permission and I'm basically in an arranged marriage because of our kingdom's lack of wealth?"

"Don't be like that." Queen Serena sighed.

"Mother, I am not ready for marriage and even if I was, I don't think it's a solution for a wealth issue."

"Then I suppose you don't want to help your people then?"

"Mother, don't be like that, "Amore sighs, "Of course I do, and I…I will marry Prince Ruggie for the kingdom."

Queen Serena smiles happily and hugs Amore, "Thank you, my darling. You'll be helping everyone so much with this."

Amore sighed and hugged his mother back, trying to fight any negative emotions he had within. But she was right; he had to do it for the kingdom, as it was his duty as the prince.

"Splendid," Serena grinned. "Crewel is on the way to get a wedding suit just for you. And he's going to your favorite seamstress, Ms. Eliza."

Even that news didn't make him feel better.

But he faked a smile and walked away, his book in his hands.

💙

"Excuse me," Silver squeaked as he carefully walked around town, carrying stacks of silks and fabrics that Eliza had demanded him to get. But it was one of those days when everyone was in the village, and no one cared to notice him. Luckily for Silver, he walked inside the dress shop without scratching the fabrics or himself. He let out a sigh of relief as he entered.

"Ah, Silver," Lilia greeted. "Have you got everything?"

Silver nodded and carefully put the items away. "Yes, Father," he looked down. "Rush hour on the village today."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lilia sighed, "I would've gone if it wasn't for my horrible back. Thank you for helping your old man out."

"You're welcome, Father," Silver nodded and continued stacking.

"You two, come here immediately," demanded Eliza, "We have a guest! An incredibly special one!"

"Who?" Lilia asked as he went up the stairs, followed by Silver.

There was a man, one Silver didn't recognize, but with his attire, he knew he was one of the few rich people living in the village. Behind him were two Dalmatians glaring and growling at Lilia.

"Ah, Advisor Crewel," Lilia smirked, "how many years has it been since we've seen each other?"

"Many," said Crewel, "still look as young as ever I see. What sort of witchcraft you worked on this time?"

"Oh, this is my natural beauty, unlike yourself, as the last time I saw you, you had a few wrinkles. So, I may ask what kind of spells you've used on yourself?"

"Lilia, enough," lectured Eliza. "He's a guest from the royal palace."

"Yes," Crewel clears his throat. "I would like you to create a wedding suit for the prince."

"For the prince?" Silver wonders.

"Yes, the wedding's in two weeks and we need everything to be in order before the big day."

"Ah, of course, with all the news of bankruptcy, of course, I understand where this is coming from, so let's see what we can do."

Silver nods along with Father's prideful words and sighs. "Another piece of work."

"And I expect it to be done by tomorrow, at the very best," Crewel demanded. "Please do not be tardy with this. The Queen can be rather impatient as you know Lilia."

"Oh, do I," Lilia muttered to himself.

"And pardon me for being intrusive," Crewel chuckled. "But I did not know that you had a son. And what is your name, my dear?"

"Silver, sir," Silver nodded toward the man.

"And polite, unlike your father," Crewel laughed, examining Silver. "And such beautiful eyes. I must know, what color are they?"

"Uh, aurora-colored," Silver answered politely.

"Thank you," Crewel smiled. "Oh, I must be going, the queen hates it when I am gone for too long."

With that, Crewel departed, leaving Silver confused and uncomfortable.

Silver looked at Lilia and said, "Our work is never finished, hmm?"

Lilia laughs and leads Silver downstairs, "Oh, don't I know it."

🩷

A day has passed since his officially arranged marriage to Prince Ruggie, and this was the only thing he could do: Hide.

Amore hid as he heard the footsteps of the royal scheduler, listing so many of his duties for the day and how bad they were. He didn't need this, as a wedding was already a stress on his shoulders.

"Oh, we're late, late, late, "Cried the royal scheduler, "We have twenty, maximum twenty-two minutes for your royal fitting. And then it's move, move, move to your speech at the Historical Society. After that, we have to rush, and I mean rush, to the Horticultural Society Tea. And then there's your math lessons, your geography lessons, your science lessons…"

Amore was careful as he passed him. He sighed in relief as he walked down the hallway.

💗

All my life, I've always wanted

To have one day just for me

Nothing to do, and for once, nowhere I need to be

💗

Amore looks around before entering one of the hallways, watching how they were decorated and polished for the wedding. He sneaks by to watch the clouds swoop, looking down at the gardens in dismay.

💗

With no lessons, lords, or lunches

Or to-do list in the way

No one to say when to eat or, read or leave or stay

That would be the day

💙

Meanwhile, Silver sets up the mannequin with many fabrics for his wedding suit in the village. He starts to daydream as he cleans up the mess, humming and singing.

💙

All my life, I've always wanted

To have one day for myself

Not waking up with a pile of work on every shelf

💙

Silver walks by the window let a bird land on his finger and enjoys how the bird begins to sing along, as birds do.

💙

With no hems in need of pressing

And no sleeves in disarray

No wedding gown with a thousand stitches to crochet

And no debt to pay

💙

Footsteps alerted Silver out of his daydream, and he immediately started to work, trying to act less suspicious when she came around.

"What do you think I'm running here? A cabaret?" Eliza scowled.

"I would've said a debtor's prison." Lilia chuckles towards Silver, "How much do I owe you again?"

"Father," Silver hushed.

"Keep laughing, you'll be working for me for another thirty-seven years," Eliza sneered towards Lilia, " since you think this is funny to you."

"But he's already paid off more than half!" Silver protested.

"But there's an interest, isn't there? Your Father should have thought of that before he borrowed so much," Eliza scoffed, walking back up the stairs.

"He did it to feed me!" Silver argued.

"His mistake." And the door slammed hard.

💙

What would it be like to be

What would it be like to be free (Free)

Free to try crazy things

Free from endless IOUs

Free to fly

Free to sing

💗

Amore gazed at a romance book and sighed, thinking of meeting someone, not just by marriage but by meeting up and getting to know them more realistically, as he dreamed about it.

💗

And marry whom I choose

💗

Queen Serena walks over and pats his shoulder, alerting him to a hug, "I'm so sorry, my darling. But as you know, you must marry Prince Ruggie. It is the only way to take care of our people."

"I know," Amore sighed. It's my duty."

The maid walked in and handed Amore a gift, carefully wrapped in stings and ribbons.

"Oh! And look!" Queen Serena cheered, "Another engagement gift!"

Amore sighed and faked a smile as he walked away. Looking at his unopened gift, he almost ripped out the strings.

💗

You would think that I'm so lucky

That I have so many things

I'm realizing that every present comes with strings

💙

Silver hums as he dances with a long fabric, followed by many birds as he gets more for the wedding suits. Lilia couldn't help but smile at the sight as he sewed the cuffs of the wedding suit.

💙

Though I know I have so little

My determination's strong

People will gather around the world to hear my song

Can I come along?

💙💗

Amore finally found his way to his room, looking around for anyone not to disturb him as he rushed to his balcony and sighed in the afterglow of the fresh air. The only way he could be alone was to get rid of all the stress he had because of the wedding.

Silver opens the small window, helps the birds out, and watches as they fly into the air, going to whatever they want, and no one can ever stop them. Silver knew someday he could be free as the birds that fly high in the sky and go somewhere else, away from this forced work.

💗💙

Now I fear I'll never be

Soon I will forever be

Free

I close my eyes and feel myself fly

A thousand miles away

I could take flight, but would it be right?

My conscience tells me "Stay"

💙💗

Amore watched and looked down at the village below them and knew that he couldn't be so selfish and that the town should matter to him. He wanted to save his people from a future of debt forever, and he could not forgive himself if he could not.

Silver watches his Father struggle, only for a short while. He knows that Lilia can handle himself, but he hates that he has to watch his Father struggle, not only physically, but with the debt that he had caused by him. Silver never tells Lilia, but he feels guilt for being the reason Lilia is in debt and does odd ways to make money for them.

💗💙

I'll remain forever royal

I'll repay my Father's debt

Duty means doing the

Things your heart may well regret

💙

Amore found a pink rose resembling admiration, happiness, and love. It's a sign that things will get better, even during the most challenging times, and that he may find real love and happiness if he continues to hope and believe. He smiled before putting the rose in his hair and looked at the sunsets.

Silver found a blue rose resembling aspiration and admiration. He knew that he could keep going and that helping his father and his Father was his goal. Even when he was abused and belittled, he never backed down or gave up, like his Father before him and what Silver inspired him to be now.

🩷

But I'll never stop believing

She can never stop my schemes

There's more to living than

Gloves and gowns and threads and seams

In my dreams

I'll be free

💙💗

💜

The night shined brightly as Amore looked out his window, watching the stars shine brightly above him. He watched the knights travel around the castle, guarding. But he wasn't happy.

"Why?" He pondered, "I don't know why life has to be surrounded by sadness and loss…after this, what should I expect from life afterward? Being a wife in a loveless marriage? I don't want that, and I don't want to be stuck here. Maybe, I could have one day of freedom, even if I have to wait, just one day is what I want."

Amore's eyes noticed Crewel walking out, his Dalmatians following him out, and walking out the balcony, watching him leave. "That's… odd," Amore muttered. "Why would Crewel go to the forest? At this late at night, too."

Amore sighed, closed the door, and walked inside. "I can ask him in the morning," he yawned and lay on his bed, his eyes slowly closing.

💟

Two men were inside the royal mines, codenamed Dee and Dum, as they were associated with bad business, i.e., finding and stealing gems so the kingdom could stay bankrupt, until…

"Dum?"

"Yeah, Dee."

Dee grabbed a rock from one of the carts and held it out to Dum, "What is this?"

"Oh," Dum chuckled, "I put that there."

"You idiot! We are supposed to find gems, not stupid boulders!" Dee hissed and threw the boulder away, "Do you even remember the boss's plan."

"Yes?" A tremble was heard, like a rock slide, alerting both men.

Thinking that someone had found their location, they rushed inside a cart.

A light went closer and closer until Crewel entered his head, grinning wickedly. "Hello."

He whispered. "Ah, boss," Dee gasped, "We thought you were someone else."

"Who did you think I was? The Queen?" Crewel sighed.

"Of course not." Dum laughed, "We knew it was you."

Crewel's face palmed, and they looked over at the duo.

"What did you find?"

Dee smiles and hands Crewel a golden nugget, which is big enough for Crewel as he snatches it. "This is perfect! This will be enough to save this kingdom and make me richer than the Queen herself!"

💟

I've been bowing, I've been scraping

I've been lying like a rug

And for ten long years,

I've had to pay my dues

But today, I am escaping

For the last, gold has been dug

It was waiting there, so how could I refuse?

💟

Crewel imagined himself delivering the gold, getting praise from everyone around him, especially the Queen and Amore, and becoming the king in progress.

💟

I'm returning home a hero

Who's discovered mighty wealth

And what better husband could a prince to choose?

I'm the suitor who will suit him

Bring the kingdom back to health

And I'll wear the crown, for how could I refuse?

Raise every glass and rouse every cheer

Praise that the reign of Crewel is here

Master in charge of all that I see

All hail me

And by marrying the prince

I get all that I desire, Like a moat, an ermine coat, and palace views

Even though he treats me coldly

It's a sign of inner fire

For inside, he's thinking, "How can I refuse?"

💟

"Does he know about the.." Dum mumbled to Dee.

"What are you two muttering about over there?" Crewel demanded.

"Well, the engagement," Dee answered, "Remember? The prince is destined to marry Prince Ruggie? In two weeks?"

"Hm, oh…that was happening," Crewel snarled.

"Yeah, I mean, the queen is a queen, she had a crown, a specter, and has a big fancy chair, and-"

💟

Silencio! No! I won't let go!

This peasant son won't turn and run because some reckless royal chose another beau!

Ah!

💟

He smirked and clutched the gold as a plan soon entered his hand.

💟

It's a temporary setback

It's a momentary lapse

But conveniently, my ego doesn't bruise

And the moment that I get back, I will show them who's the boss

You can bet your bullion there'll be no "I do's"

💟

"What's the plan, boss?" Dum asked, tilting his head.

"Oh, let me explain." Crewel laughed.

💟

Yes, suppose the boy goes missing

So the prince says "Au revoir"

Then I find him, bring him back, and make the news

Then the Queen will be so grateful

That she'll pledge the heir to Moi

And I'll humbly tell her

"How can I refuse?"

When our ceremony's over, I'll arise and take the throne

And that nitwit Amore can kiss my shoes

For the kingdom and the castle Will be mine and mine alone

If the crown should fit, then how can I refuse?

💟

"So you two, kidnap the prince by the end of this week, hide him in that desolate cabin in the woods, and keep him there until the prince leaves and the wedding's off," Crewel ordered.

"Of course, boss!" Dum proclaimed happily.

"Happily!" Dee added.

"Then I'll be king, and no one can stop me!" Divus cackled.

💟

So get ready with the roses (So get ready with the roses) And stand by with the champagne (And stand by with the champagne)

When you've got a brilliant plan, you never lose (When you've got a brilliant plan, you never lose)

Yes, before this chapter closes (Yes before this chapter closes)

I'll be big as Charlemagne (He'll be big as Charlemagne)

It's a thankless job, but how can I refuse? (It's a thankless job, but how can he refuse?)

How can I refuse? (How can he refuse?)

💟

Crewel laughs echoed within the caves, causing bats to fly out into the dim night above.

[gctawaygirl]

"I do hope that he will find it in his heart to forgive me one day," Octavia admitted quietly, "He is my father and despite what you say about my mother being concerned about me, he could withhold her from me if he saw it to be the right decision," she continued. She had gotten her fiery spirit from her mother but even Lady Thatcher knew she could not disobey her husband so brazenly. To become a Duchess had been a far-off fantasy for her in the same way that being a princess or a queen might be to someone who knew less about noble rankings or was less realistic in their ambitions. In any other situation, Octavia might have been leaping for joy but the reason behind their betrothal did taint the whole arrangement somewhat. Still, when he said she would be his, she couldn't ignore the tingle that danced down her spine. She was an independent woman who enjoyed a possessive man, even if Ander's intentions behind the comment differed.

Octavia maintained her smile as she was pulled to face him, holding his hands in return. It might have been deemed an act by anyone who knew their situation but she felt reassured by the gesture and she smiled brightly when he spoke about the garden being hers, "All of it?" she asked, almost surprised by that. She knew she would likely run the household upon their marriage but she assumed things may have to be maintained in a certain way and she would be limited in what she could change. It took Octavia a moment to noticed that she seemed to be observing him and her smile softened as she met his gaze for what felt like the first time. He might have been an older man but she didn't fail to notice his handsome features. His hair seemed to fall in his face slightly and she resisted the urge to reach out and adjust it. Perhaps that would be typical for a married couple but they were still officially in the courting stage. She did not want to push her luck.

Surprised by his next words, Octavia kept her face level to avoid any onlookers becoming suspicious of what they were talking about, "Your grace," she said after a moment, looking down briefly as she began, "I am not someone disillusioned by the concept of marriage in noble circles," she looked up to meet his gaze again, smiling, "I have seen enough betrothals to know that they can so often start at different levels of happiness and I am meant to have little choice in that happiness. Many of these marriages turn out to become something, even if it is just lifelong companionship," she paused once more, "Just by making this offer to me, you are showing yourself to be a kind man, contrasting any rumours people throw out about you," Octavia would not deny that she heard these rumours but she did not believe them at all. How could a man who would offer her this choice, to help her in such a way, be a monster of any kind? She squeezed his hands gently, "This country is my home. I cannot leave it behind no matter what scandal lies at my feet. In the last hour, you have spoken kinder to me than any Viscount ever has, you have assured me I can be happy in a way that I choose here. I would be a fool to turn it down. In return, I must ensure that it is what you choose too. I can promise wifely duties when I feel ready but if you would rather not be married to me, I would not blame you. The choice is also yours."

Anders gave a thoughtful hum, clearly agreeing with her observation of Lord Thatcher. Her father's discontentment with Octavia's affair seemed to blind him to the reality that she was about to marry into a status far surpassing his own and even that of Viscount Hastings—an outcome people could only ask for in their wildest of dreams. "When we marry, you won't need his support any longer. You'll be a duchess, elevated far beyond him." he reminded her. His tone was devoid of arrogance; he merely wanted to convey a crucial truth. It was important for her to grasp this reality, especially to shield her from any potential manipulation in his absence, even from her family. In the courts, anyone seeking influence would be a fool to disregard her. “He will no longer have any claim or duty to you because you will be mine.”

He halted their stroll by one of the garden's many fountains, allowing the gentle murmur of water to cloak their conversation, ensuring that even his trusted manservant couldn't overhear. Still within sight of the public, to any onlooker, their exchange would appear as a tender yet entirely proper moment between them as Anders guided the younger woman to stand before him. His gloved hands moved to encircle hers in a reassuring hold. “It will be yours to manage as you see fit soon enough,” he said softly, his tone gentle. After all, overseeing the home was more in the realm of the lady of the house than his own. Anders took a deep breath, allowing himself to truly observe Octavia for the first time. She was undeniably beautiful, with her high cheekbones and sculpted jawline. Her eyes were incredibly expressive and ever-changing since their first meeting, and her warm smile captivated him.

“I want you to understand something important,” he continued, his voice sincere. “I know this situation isn’t ideal, and you should be with someone closer to your age and more suited to you, but it’s not my intention to cause you any unhappiness. My mother spoke truthfully when she said I wouldn’t expect you to fulfill any wifely duties, and I’ve never laid with anyone who didn’t want me, and I don’t intend to start now. Once we marry, we can continue living here as strangers, and you will never want for anything. You may even have your needs fulfilled by someone else—discretely, of course. Alternatively, if the thought of marrying me is so unbearable, I can help you start anew elsewhere. Likely on the mainland, where you would have to give up this life completely, but your future will be entirely in your hands. The choice is yours, my lady, because there will be a point when our lives cannot be untwined."

[queenshelby]

Gypsy Bride (One Shot)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Mention of Self Harm, Arranged Marriage, SMUT, Loss of Virginity

Total Words: 8,083 (both parts below)

Parts:

·      Part One – Husband and Wife

·      Part Two – Consummating Finally

Notes: I will be writing another One Shot which will be called ‘Goodbye Marie’. This One Shot will follow on from this story but can also be read on its own.

Part One

It was 9am on a cold Saturday morning. You had been awake for several hours already and barely managed to get any sleep at all the night before.

It was your wedding day and you were nervous to say the least. This was a wedding you didn’t want, a marriage doomed from the beginning.

Your father had recently taken over the business of importing heroine into the United Kingdom from his brother who, due to unfortunate circumstances arranged by your father, was shot during police interference.

In your culture, it was customary to only form alliances with people you trust, mainly family. But, since you and your mother were both only children as a result of a curse impaled on your family decades ago, your family was much smaller than other gypsy families.

In cases like this, alliances were formed by expanding family through marriage.

You had no say in the matter and your father was determined to expand his business through such alliance.

So, today, you were to marry Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders.

You knew that Thomas Shelby was shipping heroine to the United States and had recently lost his supply from the Chinese. The deal your father was offering Thomas was lucrative and allowed the Shelby Family to reinstate most of their fortune which they had lost in the stock market crash earlier this year.

Your father, however, did not trust Thomas Shelby and insisted on a traditional bond between the families.

Thomas Shelby agreed and, since he was the only unmarried Shelby man of age, it was him, a man almost twice your age, who was going to be your husband.

You never met Thomas Shelby and you wondered what he was like.

You heard terrible things about him and you knew that he was both, a politician and a gangster. You knew that he was involved in drug trafficking, running brothels and killings. He was no better than your father who you despised.

You always wanted to turn a leaf on your life, get away from the illegal dealings and make an honest living. But, this dream of yours was now shattered. You were about to marry into the most notorious gangster family in the Small Heath and Birmingham area.

In the weeks leading up to your wedding, you considered ending it. This was the only way out. But then you met a man who was a priest. Every day you remembered his words. There was a purpose for you, you just may have not discovered it yet.

You never believed, but turned to God for advice after your encounter with the priest. You even began to volunteer at the local church community hall to help you keep your mind occupied.

After weeks of volunteering, you requested to be married to Thomas at the church. The priest was reluctant but agreed after you begged for long enough. Your request was granted.

And there you were, in the back rooms of the small church in Birmingham, preparing for your wedding.

As you stepped into your white wedding gown, tears were building up in your eyes. You were not ready for this, but you had to be strong.

You wiped your tears away with the white cotton tissue your mother had given you and pinned up your hair.

A maid was assigned to assist you, but you enjoyed to do your own hair and makeup.

Shortly after you sent your maid away and while you were applying your mascara, you heard a knock on the door.

You hoped that it was your mother, wishing to provide you with emotional support, but, to your surprise, it was a woman who you had never met.

She had dark brown hair and dark eyes. She was attractive and well dressed.

‘I am Polly Gray’ the woman said as she walked into your room.

‘I am Y/N’ you said nervously.

‘I figured’ she said with a laugh as she handed you her flask of whiskey.

‘Drink up Love, I think you need it, you are about to marry my nephew’ Polly said sheepishly as she stepped behind you and tied up your dress.

‘Thank you’ you said before taking a large sip from the flask.

‘You didn’t want your maid to help you with this?’ Polly asked surprised as she wiped away some of the smudged make up beneath your eyes which were still wet and teary.

‘No. I don’t like to appear weak in front of strangers’ you explained.

‘Showing weakness can sometimes be your strength Y/N’ Polly said before she asked you how old you were while she proceeded to help you with your make up.

‘I am 20’ you responded, your hands shaking.

’20?’ Polly said as she stopped what she was doing and sat down across from you.

‘Did you think I was older?’ you asked.

‘Your parents are older than me, so yes, Thomas and I did not expect you to be so young’ Polly said before she lid herself a cigarette.

‘Do you think that Thomas will be disappointed?’ you asked.

‘No Love. Let me tell you something about Thomas’ Polly said before taking a pause.

‘He has not shown any genuine interest in a woman since his late wife passed away. Whilst I disliked her, she was the only woman he ever loved. He didn’t choose you and he will probably not love you, but he will provide for you and ensure your safety. He expects loyalty in return, nothing else. So long as you are loyal, you do not need to worry about disappointing him nor do you need to be afraid of him’ Polly explained, causing you to feel some relief.

Despite the fact that you had never met this woman, she was able to provide you with the reassurance you needed.

‘Now, let’s hurry’ Polly said, standing up and finishing your make up.

‘Thank you, Ms Gray’ you said as she took your hand and smiled at you.

‘Please, call me Polly. After all, you will be family soon’ she said just before she disappeared to the hall.

Not long after Polly had left and you finished getting ready, your father arrived.

‘It’s time Y/N’ he said impatiently, not even bothering to compliment you.

You hooked into your father’s arm as he walked you towards the hall.

The Church was packed. You had many guests, mostly gypsies from different families.

Your heart sank into your stomach as you observed your future husband waiting for you at the altar.

He was wearing an elegant navy-blue suit which matched his deep blue eyes.

His hair looked immaculate and he had his hands crossed in front of him.

He was very attractive and you could barely believe that he was in his late thirties already.

Despite this, shivers ran down your back as you approached the altar. He showed no emotion at all. There was no smile on his face. In fact, there was no expression at all, just coldness.

As you took your place across from him, you observed him gazing over you for a moment, almost like he was assessing you. But his expressions didn’t change. There was no warmth.

You weren’t sure whether he liked what he saw or whether he was disappointed, possibly by the fact that you were much younger than he had expected or perhaps he preferred a different hair colour or larger breasts.

There was an awkward silence between you as you both starred at each other until, finally, the priest began to speak.

‘We are gathered here in the presence of God, family, and friends to unite Thomas Shelby and Y/N Y/LN in holy matrimony’ the priest went on to say before speaking a prayer, as per your request.

Then, it was time for the all-important question.

‘Do you Y/N Y/LN take Thomas Shelby to be your lawfully wedded husband?’ the priest asked.

‘I do’ you said nervously, starring at Tommy.

‘’And do you Thomas Shelby take Y/N Y/LN to be your lawfully wedded wife?’ the priest asked.

‘I do’ Tommy said, his hands still interlinked with each other.

‘Then, by the power vested in me by God, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride’ the priest said, but Tommy made no attempt to kiss you.

‘We might save that one for later, ey?’ Tommy said as he saw the nervousness in your face. You responded with nothing but a simple nod as you reached for his hand.

‘Are we done here?’ Tommy asked before he obliged and took your hand into his as you both stepped down from the altar and walked towards the exit of the Church.

Your families and guests were cheering as the Church bells began to ring.

You couldn’t help it but feel apprehensive and thought that, if the reception was going to be as awkward as the ceremony, this would be a long night.

Outside the church, you and your families posed for a picture before Tommy took you to his car.

There were no white horses and carriages as you had imagined on your wedding day. There was nothing romantic about this at all.

There was an awkward silence as you stepped inside his Silver Bentley. He started the car without saying a word.

You didn’t know what to say yourself and couldn’t even bare to look at him.

Just before you arrived at the reception venue, he looked over to you.

‘I am sorry you’ve been made to do this’ Tommy said, just as he stopped the car.

‘So am I’ you said as you pushed open the car door and walked inside. The weather was dreadful and you didn’t wait for Tommy.

The reception was barely a reception at all. There was nothing but business talk and your husband ignored you for the entire evening.

By that time, you were certain that he disliked you. He didn’t want this marriage any more than you did.

After several hours of easing your pain with champaign while you engaged into meaningless conversations with Arthur Shelby’s wife Linda, Tommy told you that it was time to go home.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like, your new home.

You were hoping for it to be big enough so that you didn’t have to see your husband very often and endure this awkwardness and silence between you.

The drive home was as silent as the drive to the reception venue. Tommy didn’t speak a word to you, again.

At least this gave you time to think about the task ahead.

Your mother had spoken to you about marriage and what it entails.

She had also spoken with you about consummation of your marriage, which was something you were nervous, almost fearful, about.

Whilst, in your opinion, Tommy was very attractive, you have never been with a man before and you wanted your first time to be with someone you loved not someone you just met.

You told your mother exactly that, but she explained to you how important it is to fulfill your wifely duties and keep your husband happy from the beginning and always thereafter.

The truth was that you were afraid of the pain it will entail. You knew it was going to be painful and it wasn’t as if you didn’t already have to endure enough pain on your wedding day. Your mother explained to you that you would get used to it, the pain will fade and, eventually, it becomes nothing more than a chore.

As you finally stepped out of the car and inside Tommy’s house, you were emotionally prepared for what was to come and were probably drunk enough too.

The house was larger than any other house you had ever seen. You couldn’t believe that Tommy was living in the house by himself.

Tommy took the time to personally show you the house and introduce you to the maids. That was probably the most he had spoken to you all day.

It felt somewhat surreal. This is where you were going live now, with your husband, a total stranger.

Tommy told you that you could use every room in the house as you pleased but that you were not allowed in his office or his bedroom.

‘Your bedroom? Will we not be sharing a bedroom?’ you asked, causing Tommy to chuckle.

‘No Y/N, we will not be sharing a bedroom’ Tommy said before showing you your bedroom. You were relieved to say the least.

‘You can redecorate it if you like’ Tommy said as he opened the door.

Your bedroom was large, with a study desk and your own bathroom attached to it.

It was well decorated and felt warm and welcoming.

‘Thank you’ you said turning around, causing Tommy to nod.

‘I have some work to do now. If you need anything, please call for one of the maids’ Tommy said as he excused himself.

‘Goodnight Thomas’ you said, receiving no response.

After Tommy left, you changed into your nightgown and lied down on your bed. But, there was no way that you could fall asleep just yet. You still felt uncomfortable and out of place.

After about thirty minutes, you decided to get up and make yourself a cup of tea. You weren’t used to be served by maids and enjoyed doing things for yourself.

As you wandered through the house towards the kitchen, you heard noises coming from one of the hallways.

Intrigued, you followed the hallway and observed that there was light shining from the reading room which was also where the noises came from.

You carefully approached the room, glancing in from the distance.

This when you saw Tommy, still wearing his suit while being intimate with the young blonde maid Marie to whom you were introduced earlier that evening.

Keeping quiet, you couldn’t help but stare at them.

Marie was being bent over the big oak study desk while Tommy was behind her, thrusting into her harshly and almost emotionless.

He held onto her hips tightly while she was moaning, digging her nails into the solid oak.

After five minutes of observation, you had enough and quietly walked to the kitchen where you boiled the kettle and made yourself a tea.

‘Mrs Shelby, I could have done this for you’ Francis said, startling you as you poured the hot water into the teapot.

‘That’s quite alright Francis. In fact, I enjoy being in the kitchen. Perhaps, if Thomas allows it, I could cook dinner one night?’ you said, waiting for some kind of approval.

‘That would be lovely Mrs Shelby’ Francis said before you excused yourself.

As you returned to your room you couldn’t help but think about Tommy and Marie. By no means did you blame him. But you also couldn’t help it but wonder why he didn’t take any desire in you. Did he rather want to sleep with his maid than his wife?

Was it that he disliked you or was it that he was trying to be kind, not making any advances towards you because you were forced into this marriage.

The next morning you woke at 7am after spending most of the night pondering about your future as Thomas Shelby’s wife.

After you got dressed, you walked downstairs and joined your husband for breakfast.

‘Good Morning’ you said as you sat down.

‘Good Morning Y/N’ Tommy said, glancing up from his newspaper for a moment to make eye contact with you.

‘Have you slept alright?’ he then asked.

‘Yes, thank you. The bed is very comfortable’ you said shyly.

‘That’s good’ Tommy said before continuing to read the paper.

This was all you spoke as you quietly ate your breakfast.

The next few weeks were just as quiet.

Tommy ignored you for the most part and continued to engage in sexual encounters with Marie. The worst of it was that he didn’t even bother to hide it from you.

Sometimes they would do it in the reading room, sometimes in one of the guest rooms and occasionally even in the stables.

You couldn’t help it but ask Francis about her and Francis told you that she had only been employed by Tommy for the past eight weeks. She was French and her breakfast was terrible. Clearly, she had other talents which kept your husband happy.

Just as you were in the reading room yourself, looking for a particular book, Tommy approached you.

‘Do you play chess?’ he asked.

‘Do I play chess?’ you asked surprised, closing your book. He didn’t talk to you for weeks and this was the question he wanted asked you? You were in disbelieve.

‘Yes, do you play?’ Tommy asked again as he poured himself a glass of Whiskey.

‘Yes, I do, would you like a game?’ you asked.

‘Yes, I’ve been learning. It’s somewhat boring but also extremely satisfying’ Tommy said, making you laugh.

‘It’s strategic, that’s probably why you enjoy it’ you said while you brushed your hair out of your face.

‘Please’ Tommy said as he turned around the chessboard on the coffee table, indicating for you to make your first move and begin the game.

You made your move and noticed that Tommy’s eyes wandered over to you rather than the chessboard, causing you to blush.

You played for about twenty minutes and began to make conversation, which is when you realised that Tommy had been observing you and taken an interest in what you might like.

‘I am thinking about getting another race horse’ Tommy said. ‘Perhaps you could help me choose one’ he added.

‘Me? Choose a horse?’ you asked surprised.

‘Yes. I noticed that you have taken an interest in the horses and I would like you to accompany me to the upcoming auction’ Tommy said. ‘It would be in my best interest to attend this event with my wife’ he added to justify his request.

‘I would love to attend with you’ you said with a smile.

‘There will be other members of parliament attending the auction and there will be a function afterwards. You will need to buy yourself a dress. Elegant, but simple’ Tommy said as he handed you some money.

‘Alright’ you said before moving your queen. Tommy clearly hasn’t been paying attention to the game.

‘Checkmate’ you grinned.

‘Well well, you just beat me at chess’ Tommy said as Francis walked in to the room with some tea for you.

‘Your wife is a smart woman Mr Shelby’ Francis said, giving you a wink.

‘I’ve noticed. Now would you excuse me, I have some more work to do’ Tommy said, smiling at you for the very first time.

The next day you drove into town to buy yourself a dress. By that time you had already done your research on the horses available for auction and the one you had your eye on was called ‘Emerald’.

It won two races quite recently and was slightly more expensive than the budget Tommy had given you.

With that in mind, you considered it to be fitting to purchase an emerald green dress, elegant but yet simple, just as Tommy had requested.

Over the next week, leading up to the auction, Tommy and you played chess almost every day. He hated losing and was determined to eventually beat you.

Even before the auction, he demanded a game and you made sure that you were ready for him.

A gasp escaped Tommy as you entered the reading room wearing your emerald green dress.

‘Is that alright for the auction?’ you asked shyly, wanting to ensure that Tommy approves of the dress.

‘Just missing one small detail Mrs Shelby’ he said as he handed you a box covered with black satin.

You opened the box and, inside, there was a diamond necklace with matching earrings.

‘Thomas’ you said, being stunned by the pieces of jewellery.

‘You will need to fit in Y/N. After all, you are my wife’ Tommy said as you turned around and he placed the neckless onto your neck.

After you looked at yourself in the mirror, you and Tommy played a quick game of chess before making your way to the car and drive to the auction.

At the auction, Tommy introduced you to everyone as his wife but, as usual, he kept his gestures to a minimum. He held your hand once, maybe twice, for show.

You were well spoken and engaged with the other politicians’ wives. The topics that were spoken about were of no real interest to you, but you played along for Tommy’s sake.

Later, at the function, you mingled with the same women while Tommy engaged in pollical discussions with members of parliament and judges.

You couldn’t wait for the night to be over, you were bored beyond belief.

Finally, Tommy told you that it was time for you to leave. He had further business to attend to at the Garrison and you requested that he take you along.

He reluctantly agreed and, as you arrived, the Garrison was packed with drunk men.

You were glad to see Polly and Ada again as you arrived and engaged into conversations with them before their business meeting with Tommy.

But just as Tommy turned his back on you and gave some instructions to Arthur, you were approached by another patron.

‘Good Day Love’ he said, not receiving any reaction from you.

‘Woman, I am talking to you’ he said harshly after you tried hard to ignore him.

‘Sir, please leave me alone’ you said patiently as, all of a sudden, he grabbed your wrist harshly.

‘Love, I can pay well you know. So, whatever offer you have for tonight, I will double it. It is rare to find a whore as pretty and clean as you’ the man said.

‘Get your hand of me. I am not a whore’ you said as, all of a sudden, you heard Tommy approach.

‘Ay, this is my wife you are talking to’ Tommy said harshly, pointing his gun at the man.

‘Mr Shelby’ the man said with a scared voice.

‘Now apologise to her and then fuck off before I blow your head off’ Tommy said angrily.

‘My apologies Mrs Shelby, I didn’t know’ the man said with embarrassment, his pants wet before he made a run for the door.

‘Did he just piss himself?’ Arthur said with laughter as he gave Tommy a nudge.

‘Fucking hell…this is no place for woman like you Mrs Shelby’ Arthur laughed but you weren’t in the mood for jokes. The man had grabbed your wrist harshly and you were somewhat scared by his determination.

‘Are you alright?’ Tommy asked, his hands running over your upper arms.

‘I am fine Tommy. I am sure it was just a misunderstanding’ you smiled.

‘I don’t care. No one speaks to my wife like this’ he said.

‘Now let’s get you a drink, ey? What would you like?’ Tommy asked.

‘Whiskey please’ you responded.

‘Irish or Scotch?’ Tommy asked.

‘Irish’ you responded.

‘Well, we have something in common then’ Tommy said with a smile as he asked you to join him for the business meeting.

‘Perhaps we are yet to discover a lot about each other’ you said, causing Tommy to chuckle.

‘Most people do this before they get married’ Tommy said as you followed him.

You stayed at the Garrison for another hour before you made your back to the house.

The drive was much more pleasant than before and, even though you may never be lovers, you had now found things to speak about with each other.

‘Will you have another glass of whiskey with me?’ you asked Tommy as you arrived at the house and he handed Francis both of your coats.

‘I suppose why not’ Tommy said as he walked you to the living room.

Tommy poured each of you a glass of whiskey before sitting down on the lounge next to you.

‘I enjoyed today, thank you’ you said.

‘And I enjoyed your company. You did well with all of these arrogant bastards’ Tommy smirked, causing you both to laugh.

‘You don’t like politicians much do you?’ you asked.

‘No, I fucking hate them’ Tommy smirked, causing you to laugh again. After all, he was one of them.

You talked about politics and horses for quite some time until you changed the topic.

‘Tommy?’ you said all of the blue, before pausing.

‘Yes?’ he asked curiously.

‘It is none of my business but, do you love her?’ you asked.

‘Love who?’ Tommy responded.

‘Marie. I know you have been sleeping with her’ you said.

‘No, I do not love her. I do however enjoy her company, although not so much for making conversation’ Tommy said with a chuckle.

‘Do you enjoy my company?’ you asked shyly, looking down at your glass.

‘In a different way, I do’ Tommy said.

‘In a different way, but not in the way a husband enjoys the company of his wife’ you said.

‘Listen, Y/N, neither of us have asked for this marriage. It was your father who insisted and the business between me and your father is extremely lucrative as you know. If I would have known that you are…’ Tommy said, and before he could finish his sentence, you interrupted him.

‘That I am so young?’ you asked before pausing, causing Tommy to sigh. ‘If you would have known, you would have forgone the deal?’ you added.

‘I would have asked your father to consider a more suitable match, a trusted man of mine closer to your age’ Tommy said.

‘Well, it is what it is Tommy. There is no turning back now’ you said, taking another sip of your Whisky, before standing up.

‘I think Marie is waiting for you’ you smirked before excusing yourself.

As you walked to your room, tears were running down your face. You couldn’t help it but, for some reason, you wanted Tommy to be a husband to you.

Were you falling in love with him, the man you were being forced to marry? Are you asking for the impossible? Being loved by a man like Thomas Shelby?

You were devastated by thoughts that he would rather be with his maid than with his wife and wondered why he didn’t see you the way you now wanted to be seen.

First fearful about being with him, you now wanted to be with him and you certainly didn’t want him to be with your maid.

As you went to bed that night, you remembered what your mother had told you about keeping your husband happy in order to achieve a fruitful marriage.

You also remembered that, when your mother and father were in disagreement about matters or your mother was worried about your father’s indiscretions, she would add a little spark to their marriage with a nice meal and paying her wifely duties.

With that in mind, you decided to take things further the following week after Tommy returns from his business trip.

Part Two

‘Good Evening Mr Shelby, how as your trip?’ Francis asked as Tommy arrived back home.

‘Fine, thank you’ Tommy said, handing Francis his coat while Marie grabbed Tommy’s bag.

‘Mrs Shelby prepared dinner sir’ Francis said.

‘She did?’ Tommy asked surprised.

‘Yes, sir. She is waiting for you in the dining room’ Francis said.

‘Do we have guests?’ Tommy asked, causing Francis to shake her head.

‘No sir, just you and Mrs Shelby and she said that you do not wish to disturbed’ Francis said, causing Tommy ponder before he excused Francis, allowing her to finish some of her chores.

‘Will I see you later Thomas?’ Marie asked, causing Tommy to nod before walking to the dining room.

As he entered the dining room, he saw you sitting at the table wearing a beautiful but yet revealing black satin dress and the diamonds he had bought for you to wear at the auction.

Your hair was open, long curls falling over your shoulder.

You were wearing dark eye shadow and red lipstick and your skin smelled like musk and flowers.

‘Good Evening Thomas’ you said with a smile.

‘Is this a special occasion?’ Tommy asked, causing you to shake your head.

‘No, I just thought I would cook something nice for my husband’ you smirked before calling Marie for some wine and telling her that she may serve dinner.

‘You know she will probably burn whatever you prepared’ Tommy said jokingly. He knew that you were very well aware that serving food and food preparation wasn’t one of her chores.

‘I am sure she’s got other qualities’ you said cheekily.

As you talked and ate together, you discovered that Tommy had a pretty bad week.

Amongst other things, he told you about a man called Mosley whom he had met in London two days ago and problems with one of the judges. After that, you moved on to discuss more pleasant matters.

‘Would you like a game of chess and a whiskey to end the day?’ you asked as hours had paused.

‘Alright’ Tommy said and it wasn’t until you got up from your chair and walked with him towards the reading room that he saw the entirety of your dress, which complimented your curves.

‘You look beautiful in this dress Y/N’ Tommy said, not sure what else to say in that moment.

‘We have been married for 6 weeks now and this is the first time you have complimented me’ you said with a smile.

‘I didn’t consider it to be appropriate’ Tommy said as he sat down next to you, handing you a glass of whiskey.

‘I am your wife Tommy’ you smiled. ‘Do you not find me attractive?’ you asked.

‘I do. But, considering the circumstances surrounding our marriage and your age, making any advance towards you would have interfered with my conscience ‘Tommy said.

‘And I am grateful for that Tommy. But, whilst I can be in a loveless marriage, I cannot be in a marriage without any emotion at all’ you said suggestively.

‘So, what do you suggest?’ Tommy asked.

‘I suggest that we consummate our marriage and give it the chance it deserves’ you said, causing Tommy to chuckle.

‘Consummate our marriage, ey?’ Tommy said. He was surprised by your proposal.

‘Yes, unless you rather fuck your maid than your wife’ you said sheepishly and with a smirk. It was clear to Tommy that you were being sarcastic and he began to like this mischievous side of you.

‘Well then Mrs Shelby, shall we go to my room or yours?’ Tommy smirked.

‘Mine’ you said determined as you stood up and offered him your hand.

As you and Tommy arrived at your bedroom, Tommy closed the door behind you while you crossed to the bed to turn on the bedside lamp.

The light was just enough to show him all that he needed to see and no more than you wished to reveal.

Tommy walked over towards you as you stood next to the bed.

Leaning in from behind you, he swept your hair over one of your shoulders and pressed a kiss against the back of your neck while one of his hands dragged the zipper of your dress down tooth by tooth.

Slipping his hands beneath the fine satin, Tommy pushed the dress downward and letting it fall to the ground.

Taking a step back, he admired you, studying every tiny detail of your entire body.

Watching you turn, Tommy reached out and a smile flitted across his lips when you slid your hand into his before stepping up flush against him.

‘You haven’t even kissed your wife yet’ you said shyly before leaning in and pressing your lips on Tommy’s lips.

His lips were soft and tasted like Whiskey. He was a good kisser and it wasn’t long until his tongue found its way into your mouth.

The kiss soon became urgent and heated while Tommy’s hands moved behind your back, unclipping your bra. It landed on the floor right next to your dress.  

His hands were urgently exploring every part of you and you could feel his erection press against you.

As he ran his hands over your firm breasts and breathed deeply, it was clear to you now that he desired you.

‘Tommy?’ you said with a hasty voice as his hand wandered lower, wanting him to slow down. Your heart was pounding by that time and some apprehension had set in.

‘Yes’ Tommy said while he took off his shirt, letting it join your dress in holy matrimony.

‘I haven’t done this before’ you said with some embarrassment as you rested your hands on his bare chest while your eyes were exploring his tattoos.

‘You have never had sex before?’ Tommy asked with slight worry in his voice, causing you to bite your lip and shake your head.

‘Are you sure you want to do this tonight? Tommy asked, running his hand gently over your cheek.

‘Yes Tommy, I am sure. I want to be yours’ you said.

‘You are mine regardless Y/N’ Tommy said with a slight laugh as he caressed your face. In his mind, he had already claimed you. You were his wife.

‘Please Tommy, I want you’ you said with a smile.

‘Alright, I will take it slow then but you must tell me if I hurt you’ Tommy said concerned, causing you to nod. It’s been over 20 years since he had been anyone’s first and this was not something he expected having to encounter again.

Tommy’s touch became gentler almost immediately and you loved the softness of his fingertips on your skin.

His fingers were exploring every corner of your body, for now steering clear from your most intimate parts, while your tongues danced in sync with each other.  

After some more passionate kisses, you let your eyes rove over the expanse of his chest and down the ridges in his torso, which was an area of his body you didn’t dare to look at until then.

You bit the corner of your lip shyly as you pushed the zipper of his pants down with a single fingertip, the fingers of your other hand relieving the button.

You almost let out a soft laugh when Tommy let out a sigh of relief as the pressure lightened considerably around his bulge which was now hidden only behind the thin fabric of his briefs.

Even through the fabric, he seemed huge and for a moment you doubted your decision but then you looked up at him and every ounce of niggling doubt was erased from your mind as his blue eyes gazed into yours.

Tommy stepped out of his shoes and let his trousers nose-dive to the ground as he stepped forward, guiding you back to the bed that stood center stage in the gigantic room.

Brushing his fingertips across your cheek, Tommy rubbed the curve of your side and laid you gently back on the bed.

‘I think I got lucky, having such a beautiful wife’ Tommy said as he lowered himself onto the bed and before exchanging another passionate kiss with you.

Tommy’s lips soon made their way from your mouth to your neck and then over to your breasts.

Every little kiss or touch made your heart gallop within your chest, your blood pounding through your veins, soaring through your body at speeds greater than that of light or sound, or so it felt.

Brushing your fingers through Tommy’s hair as he explored your body, you caressed his cheek and stared down at him, your hips rising subconsciously as Tommy teased the soft skin of your abdomen with tiny kisses and nibbles.

There was a fleeting moment of second guessing when Tommy’s fingertips edged beneath the lacey edge of your panties but as soon as he kissed the skin he revealed it was gone.

Your hips were again rising as Tommy removed the scrap of dark fabric from the apex of your thighs to reveal a silky smooth mound of flesh and the now engorged rosebud of your clit.

Hearing him gasp at the sight, you blushed but followed it with a moan as Tommy leaned down and kissed it once, the length of his tongue sweeping out to take a taste of your secret delicacy.

This was something you didn’t expect. What on earth was he doing?

As you were completely naked before him and he was so close to your most intimate parts, you felt more vulnerable than you had ever been in your entire life but you didn't regret it.

Everything that Tommy did to you in that moment made you jump out of your skin in the most wonderful ways possible.

After he gently ran his tongue over your slit a few times, Tommy told you to relax as he pulled gently at your leg and you slowly let them fall open.

You tried hard not to tense up and, even though you didn't know what he was planning on doing, what he did so far felt good so you were willing to give all of yourself to him.

‘That’s it’ Tommy said after you took a deep breath and relaxed your body.

Tommy took this moment to dip his tongue inside of you gently, causing a loud moan to escape you.

His tongue was skilled, moving in and of you slightly while his hands pressed your legs apart gently.

Tommy then moved his tongue over your clit, flicking it slightly and causing you to make a high pitch noise of some sort.

‘Tommy’ you moaned at the sensation. It was almost too intense.

You closed your eyes as waves of pleasure coursed through your body while Tommy kept pleasuring you with his tongue.

When Tommy's fingers finally brushed against your entrance to join his tongue, you gasped and jumped.

‘Tommy’ you moaned but were also slightly worried about what he might do with his fingers.

Tommy’s erection was throbbing from within his briefs but he knew very well that he would have to take it very slow. As much as he wanted to be inside of you right then and there, he was aware that there was some preparation to be done.

With trembling fingers Tommy gently spread your virgin lips open and let his finger brush against your clit while his tongue continued to run through your folds.

He heard her sharp intake of breath from you when he guided his finger inside of you carefully while his tongue played with your clit.

By that time, you were soaked and he could feel the juices coating his finger.

As he pushed his finger deeper inside of you, he could hear your soft cry of surprise and you arched your back up suddenly.

‘Just relax’ Tommy said as he could feel no resistance inside of you.

He pressed you gently back to the bed and dropped more kisses against your virgin lips before circling against your clit again.

You closed your eyes tight and held your body completely still.

‘Tommy, oh god’ you moaned as he moved his finger in and out of you slowly, over and over again.

You were tight around his finger and had no idea how he would possibly fit his cock inside of you.

It wasn’t long until you moved your hips upward, showing Tommy that you were enjoying what he was doing to you.

Tommy sucked hard at your clit, loving it with his tongue as he slid a second finger inside of you carefully and started sawing it in and out.

‘Tommy’ you cringed at the pressure, causing him to slow down again and holding his fingers steady until the pressure eased.

When he could feel you relax, he began moving his fingers in and out of you again and it wasn’t long until you felt a very unfamiliar tightening in your belly.

‘Tommy, oh my god, please don’t stop’ you begged as your breathing started coming out heavier.

Unlike you, Tommy knew that you were close to having an orgasm and he increased the pressure of his tongue around your clit while continuing to move his fingers in and out of you.

Still unsure about what was happening inside of you, you grabbed onto the sheets as, suddenly, a feeling of ecstasy rushed through you.

‘Tommy, fuck’ you screamed, not being able to control yourself while your orgasm washed over you.

Tommy couldn’t help but smile against your flesh as you coated his fingers in your juices.

After you had come down from your high, Tommy slowly pulled his fingers out of you and moved up the bed to kiss you passionately.

You could taste yourself on Tommy’s lips. It was strange, but you enjoyed it.

‘I don’t know what just happened. I hope the maids didn’t hear me’ you said totally embarrassed as your lips drifted apart.

‘If they didn’t then they are clearly deaf’ Tommy laughed.

‘Oh my god, how embarrassing’ you said. ‘I didn’t expect…’ you said, and before you could finish your sentence, Tommy interrupted you.

‘You didn’t expect it to feel that good?’ Tommy asked, causing you to shake your head.

‘Well, Mrs Shelby, I will make you feel good every day from now on’ Tommy grinned before kissing you again.

‘Is that a promise Mr Shelby?’ you asked in between more passionate kisses while your hand moved in between his legs and beneath his briefs.

‘It’s a promise’ Tommy said as he let out a small groan as you began to stroke his hard cock.

He was thicker than you had expected and your nervousness returned in an instant as he took off his briefs.

‘We can wait if you want’ Tommy said as you continued to stroke his hard cock with your hand.

‘No Tommy, I want to feel all of you’ you said with a gentle voice before Tommy ran his hands lovingly over your legs, pushing them apart all the way, much further than he did earlier.

You took in a deep breath as you gazed into Tommy’s blue eyes while he rested himself in between your legs.

He smiled and kissed you softly. You knew that, what was about to follow would hurt. Nonetheless, you wanted him inside of you so badly.

‘We will take it slow, alright?’ Tommy said with a reassuring voice.

You brought your arms up around Tommy’s neck and pulled his lips to yours, kissing him softly once again.

‘I trust you’ you said, looking deep into his eyes after your lips drifted apart.

With his look fixated on you, Tommy reached down between your legs and grasped his cock in his hand before rubbing his tip against your soaking entrance.  

You moaned softly as you felt the head of his cock pressing against you. But, as soon as you could feel him push inside of you, you inhaled roughly.

‘Tommy’ you moaned as he slowly pressed forward with his hips.

 You couldn’t help it but gasp as you felt him start to enter you.

You dug your hands into his shoulder and held onto him tightly as you felt yourself being stretched.

‘Fuck’ Tommy groaned lightly, trying to force himself to go slow. It took more willpower than he had expected not to simply plunge into you as you were incredibly tight around him.

Pushing into you slowly, inch by inch, he finally felt your barrier. He stopped and looked down at you.

You gave your husband the look of approval as you tightened the hold on his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Tommy leaned down, pressing his lips onto yours just before he nudged forward and slipped past that barrier.

As your fingernails dug into the flesh on his shoulders, Tommy swallowed your moan that was different from all the others you let loose earlier that night.

It was indeed painful and some small tears escaped your eyes as he filled you completely.

Tommy kissed away your tears before cradling you against him as he paused once more, giving you some time to adjust.

It was killing him to hold still but he wanted to wait until you were ready.

As you adjusted to him inside of you, the last sliver of pain disappeared and was overtaken by pleasure.

Tommy could feel you starting to relax and move beneath him as he continued to place small kisses on your neck.

He moaned as he felt your small movements and it tugged on his cock.

It wasn’t long until he began to move himself, small and gentle thrusts to start with.

Your thighs clenched and your toes flexed, your hips rising in vain to meet his again only to be pressed back into the bed when he sank back into you.

‘Oh god Tommy’ you moaned loudly. You could've screamed right then and there, from the highest point on the face of the earth, from the insane amount of pleasure you felt.

‘You are so god damn beautiful’ Tommy said as he continued to thrust into, picking up in speed and force.

Your nipples grazed his chest every time your hips collided as your movements became syntonised with his.

Every movement he made, no matter how small, brought a new sound out of you, your voice cresting and dropping to new highs and lows that you never even thought you would reach let alone soar passed regularly.

His thrusts soon became more urgent and you pressed into him firmly, wanting him to burry himself into you over and over again.

By that time, you had lost count of how many times the pressure had built within the cradle of your hips only to explode like a weapon of mass destruction, bringing copious amounts of toe-curling, eye-clenching amounts of pleasure so great that it seemed impossible that the next surge would ever top its predecessor.

By the sounds of your moans, Tommy knew that you were getting close to another orgasm and he was getting so close himself.

He held tight to your hips as he drove hard and fast in and out of you, making you whimper with need.

‘Oh my god Tommy, yes’ you moaned and begged slamming back against him the best you could.

Your body was wound so tight you felt like your body was going to come apart any second.

Your legs began to shiver and your walls were tightening around him as your orgasm came at you like a freight train.

‘Tommy’ you screamed at the top of your lungs, sending him over the edge also.

You came in sync with each other and, with the next thrust, he filled you with his warm cum and coated your insides, flooding you just as you did the exact same thing to him.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned as his thrusts became sloppier while you both came down from your highs.

Moments later, Tommy collapsed next to you before pulling you closer for a kiss.

‘Are you alright?’ Tommy asked, running his hands over your cheek.

‘Yes’ you said quietly but with a big smile on your face.

‘The next time will be easier’ Tommy said, causing your eyes to light up.

‘You know I will hold you to the promise you made me earlier Tommy’ you said.

‘I was hoping that you would’ he grinned before wrapping his arm around you, pulling you onto his chest.

‘Will you stay with me tonight?’ you said as Tommy was brushing through your hair with his fingers.

‘Yes. Tonight and every night from now on if you want me to’ Tommy said gently.

Your body felt relaxed and at ease and, for the first time in six weeks, you felt comfortable in your own bed with your husband right beside you.

That night, he showed you a side of himself you hadn’t seen before, a side you were seeing yourself fall in love with it.

With Tommy holding you close, it wasn’t long until you drifted off to sleep.

But you weren’t the only who felt relaxed and at ease.

Tommy watched you sink into your dreams and a smile emerged on his face. He felt a familiar warmth washing over him, something he thought he wouldn’t be able to feel again.

As he turned off the bedside lamp, he felt a happiness that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Unlike other nights, he wasn’t afraid to drift off to sleep because he knew that, tonight, there would be no nightmares and no memories of Grace, there would only be you.

[wangxianslillotus]

I say... Wei WuXian started to use his black robes after he'd come back from Gusu, an au.

....

As a Jiang disciple he'd stuck with the uniform unless he had a day of, but he didn't have any black robes then. He used the comfortable dark purple ones from the sect that had taken him in as a ward. The place where he belonged to. This and his Clarity bell were a part of him, and he was happy and proud to show it.

Madam Yu had not have a real reason to prohibit him from his chooses in clothing, since even if the people spoke wide and at length of the boy the Jiang Sect Leader had taken in, and what his origins may be, she couldn't bring the matter to her husband without causing further harm in their already stumbling household. Wei WuXian was not worth the effort and the sacrifice, so she didn't complain. She still glared plenty, but never voiced her mind.

Of course, the perfect excuse arrived with her patience, to finally put an end and a division between the dirty ward and her children.

When Wei WuXian came back from Gusu, alone, she struck him with Zidian until he couldn't sit straight anymore. Jiang Fengmian allowed Jiang Cheng to stay in the Cloud recesses, as he allowed Jiang YanLi to stay too. He thought making friends was still necessary for his children, and so, he only picked up Wei WuXian to sent him back home to Lotus Pier.

"You filth! How dare you think yourself an equal to the Jin Heir!" She screamed, her voice bouncing to an stunning volume inside the discipline hall walls. Zidian sparked alive, the electric power in it showing the power and the bad humor of its wielder.

Wei WuXian remained in silence, head pressed down to the floorboards. He just hoped she would stop before whipping him to the next life.

"You just ruined my daughter's marriage arrangement! Don't even dream of getting out of here by feet! I should've dropped you to the streets right back the same day Fengmian brought you here! And yet, after I feed you, clothe you and raise you, you repay the kindness of my heart with..." She paused her wording, her arm raising in the air dangerously and then dropped down with a scalding aim, "this!"

Zidian found its target, making Wei WuXian's skin burn and bubble under the thunderous whip. The boy bit his lips until they bleed, but he was not going to make a sound of complain, were it to rise the woman's anger.

"A-Li's future has been compromised because of you! And I will not permit you to bring future harm to my home! You will learn, or you will die!" The marks in the back of the boy kept appearing as she spoke, Zidian making a quick work of him.

At the beginning, he restrained his voice from spilling, but as the punishment proceeded, he found he didn't have the strength to make a sound. His body was trembling in pain and exhaustion, eyes filled with unshed tears because his body didn't want to keep losing any more fluids. He was dangerously close to passing out now, but Zidian had never been kind to him. Or so he had thought.

Numbed, his mind compared the last times he'd been punished with the spiritual weapon, and he found it had never been to this point where his vision had started to fill with dark spots everywhere, and his back just ached as a whole. Each strike, he used to differentiate. Now, he couldn't tell how many had fallen upon his spine.

"You're nothing but a nuisance! You do not deserve to wear anything that relates to us! Since you only bring disasters to our home!" She spoke clearly, the purple, the feeling of home, the dread, the purple whip finally receded. She sent one of the maids to pick up his clothes from where he'd been made left them besides his now fallen body.

The girl gave him a pitifully glance, but did as she was told. No one, not even her husband or children would go against her word.

"Take those and the spares, burn them. He can wear whatever he wants, but nothing of mine." She stated dry. He stared from the small space that formed between his folded legs as the girl disappeared swiftly from the hall. He hoped she didn't find his father's clarity bell.

The Madam left him there, not even a candle was lit once everyone else poured out of the room.

The moon was full, high in the sky when he finally made it back to his quarters, after many falls and a lot of silent screams and pleas. No one had come for him, and with no purple left, he found himself wishing for the feeling of a long lost home, of his mother's laugh and his father's kind smile.

He passed out on the threshold.

....

When he woke up, he was still alone. Back hurting under the restless sunlight who beamed like no bad thing had ever happened in the world. Wei Ying crawled inside and closed the paper and wood doors with great difficulty.

Whatever small movement he made, his back complained with a thousands needles strength. He hissed and stumbled his way to the bed, and he fell asleep instantly after laying in his chest and stomach.

...

"Wei-gonzi?" A voice called from outside, making the boy startle awake with his heart stammering inside his ribs. Moments later, the person who was outside took the silence as an invitation to come in, probably aware of the state of the inhabitant of the room... maybe to check if he was still around. "Ah, Wei-gonzi. This one apologizes for the intrusion... but after your punishment, I was sent to clear your room... and I happened to notice gonzi wouldn't have much to wear with all the purple being taken. I do not wish to impose, but I have brought a set, so Wei-gonzi can wear until he can get more."

Wei WuXian stared at the girl, recognizing from her words that it was the one servant that had been sent to take his clothes away. He merely blinked as an answer, mildy reminding himself of the one Lan boy that used to give responses like that too. Maybe now, he could put his knowledge about non-verbal responses to use!

She smiled at him pitifully, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to do anything but rest for a while, and let herself walk further inside the chambers. The girl silently arranged the set of clothes in the correct place, and even served him a cup of water that he stared at helplessly.

She didn't ask. He didn't ask either.

She helped his head up until he sipped the water away, and then other cup, and one more.

As the days passed, she aided him the best she could, sneaking past midnight into his chambers and bringing him food, water and medicines for his injuries. He spoke softly when he opened his mouth, and she listened to anything he might be needing.

Jiang WanYin and Jiang YanLi arrived from Gusu three months after.

His back, thanks to the girl that had helped him, was far better than it would've been if not for her help. He still couldn't lean his entire weight into his muscles, nor sleep on his back, or make many movements with his arms over his head. The skin had torn one too many times by accident after the first two weeks he'd been told he had to get back on his feet and duties as a head disciple.

He didn't disobey his Madam's words.

At the end of the two week's time, he'd asked the girl to bring him more sets of robes, black outer robes and red inner ones to match his ribbon. He gave her money, and she came back with what he'd asked for.

Wei WuXian only started to use black robes after coming back from Gusu, and to his martial siblings puzzlement, he also has started to act too weirdly!

He wouldn't play around with Jiang Cheng anymore, nor look at any of them whenever their mother was around, which happened to be almost always.

Madam Yu started to give him more and more duties to do, such as training the younger disciples instead of the older ones, or even doing the transcript of the accountable books of the month. Many of the duties were not for him to do, most were from other sections of the sect, and even some of them were done by the house servants, but Wei WuXian didn't complain of this treatment. Even when Jiang Cheng did.

"How can a Head disciple do s servant's job, mother? This is nonsense. He's just losing time!" He stated a bit roughly, already worn out by the weirdness of the Lotus Pier he'd come back to. It was almost as if a ghost had taken upon the household and enchanted it to appear a different reality!

Madam Yu sneered at her son, "he ought to know his place! A-Cheng, you've got it wrong because of the negligence of your father towards this matter! It's not that he's a Head disciple doing a servant's job, but that he's a servant doing a Head disciples job!" His mother said as an ultimatum, not leaving space for any complaints.

Jiang WanYin was left speechless, regardless of the space his mother left for further discussion on the matter. He felt the coldness inside his body for the first time since he'd nursed a Golden core. He stared quietly the scene in front of him, and understanding sliced his throat, making it impossible for him to make any other sound, chocking him.

When he retired, he finally allowed himself to tremble, eyes wide and teary.

His brother's future in the Lotus Pier would never be what they had hoped for. His mother had called him a servant's son before, but never him. She had regarded Wei WuXian as if he'd been a mere servant receiving a prize and a recompense for being promising. She said he should be grateful for being given the chance to cultivate, to be an acting Head disciple when he could be as well, cleaning the kitchens.

His brother, his right hand, cleaning kitchens and attending the main family instead of standing beside him. His mother had stated clearly how Wei WuXian was bellow. And this had made Jiang WanYin feel angry, at first.

Then, he realized how his brother wouldn't complain, wouldn't look up, wouldn't say a thing and obeyed... he felt dread. And he needed to do anything, something, to prevent this situation from getting worse.

[marvelouslytrekking]

The Escaped Bride {1/?}

Ch 1: The Arrangement

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Summary: An arranged marriage to your childhood best friend isn’t exactly how you imagined it but you also couldn’t say you were too upset to be marrying James Barnes.  Word Count: 1741 Warning: arranged marriage, maybe a swear word? A/N: Alrighty folks so I got this idea in like December and have been working on it since. I have quite a bit of it written and am not longer capable of keeping it to myself. Updates on this probably won’t be very consistent but I have most of it plotted so that might help. Please let me know what you think!! Feedback fuels my soul!

Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

“There is no getting out of this.” Your mother told you sternly. She was not having your fits about the marriage.

“I don’t understand why I can’t choose someone to marry myself!” You huffed.

“This was set up while you were just young. You cannot back out of it now.” Your mother told you, “You two have been inseparable. I don’t know why you are fighting this so much. You aren’t going to find anyone better than James.”

“I want to have a say in my life!”

“Enough of this.” You heard your fathers voice boom from the doorway. It caused you to cringe. “You will marry James, and I will not hear another complaint from you about it.”

“Yes father,” You sighed.

“Now, James is here to see you. You will go, and be civil with him.” He informed you.

You just nodded, walking past your father to go meet James. While you were mad about this marriage, you were excited to see James. Your mother wasn’t wrong, you and James were inseparable. You truly loved James, but you couldn’t stand the idea of having to marry him, and him to not love you. You couldn’t stand the idea that he may one day resent you.

“Hello James,” You smiled, “It’s good to see you.”

“My dear,” He smiled as he saw you walking up to him. “Care to go on a walk?”

“I would love to.” You were relieved at the idea of getting out of your house and away from your parents.

You followed him down a path that the two of you had taken many times. There was an awkward silence that had settled between you. This was the first time you had seen each other since your parents told you the news of what was to happen.

“I have been made aware that you are not exactly happy about this arrangement,” James was finally the one to break the silence and you could hear a small amount of hurt in his voice at the statement.

“I am not thrilled with the idea that my whole life was planned out by someone else,” You told him, “But if I was to be promised to anyone, I guess I am glad it is you.”

James sighed at that. As teens you had spent many days talking of your futures, there was a point where you even talked of marrying each other, but one thing that was always consistent was your anger at watching friends and the older girls in your social circle getting married off without their say.

“I wish it wasn’t being forced on you either,” Bucky admitted, “But I do not care about the fact this was arranged by our parents, I want to marry you. I love you and wouldn’t want to be with anyone but you. If it hadn’t already been in the works, I would be proposing to you myself”

You stopped in place hearing him admit that to you. He stopped as well, turning to you with a look of hope in his eyes.

“I’ve loved you since we were children,” You told him truthfully, “I just couldn’t bear the thought of marrying you if you did not share those feelings. It would have broken my heart.”

“I would never break your heart,” James said with a seriousness in his voice, reaching out and cupping your face in his hands. You place your hands over his, trying to ground yourself so you don’t get lost into the love in his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

He already leaned down, inches away from your lips but he paused, waiting for your answer. When you nodded, he closed the distance quickly, kissing you slowly.

While it may not be the first time you had shared a kiss, this was different, it was slow, meant to translate the love felt between you two. You pulled away with a smile, finding yourself suddenly very excited about being able to get married. Your marriage was now the freedom you craved and not the prison you feared it to be.

“You know the only problem I have with this?” You asked as you continued to walk, now hand in hand.

“What’s that?” James asked you curiously.

“I have to go back there and admit to both mother and father that they were right.” You groaned. You could already see the smug look your mother would have when you suddenly became happy about the ideal marriage. James laughed at your admission. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry love,” He raised his hands in surrender but still had a smile on his face, “I just thought you’d have a critique about me going back to sea or the church or something. I should have known it was just you being as stubborn as ever.

“You’re going back to sea soon?” You asked, suddenly worried he was going to be gone for a while again. You hated that he had joined the Navy, but you had not been able to convince him not to.

“Not until we’re married.” He told you.

“And then you will leave your new wife alone in a big house by herself?” You gave him a frown.

“I am sure she’ll find plenty of things to occupy her time.” He rolled his eyes at you, “I have been working very hard to complete a library for her.”

Your eyes lit up at that. James was always gifting you with books and the idea that he was creating a library for you had your heart swelling. “I guess she’ll survive the time without him.”

You had unfortunately made it back to your house. “See I told you, look at that smug look.” You whispered to James as you saw your mother watching you reenter the house with him.

That was the last you were able to talk to him as you were quickly whisked away after entering the house. Your mother and his were already starting to plan things and they wanted your opinion. It was all very overwhelming but you were at least now wanting this wedding, so you were able to give your opinion much more freely.

This was how the next few weeks went. You would barely be able to sneak a few moments with James before you were swept away for a fitting, or to pick flowers, or to decide on bridesmaid’s dresses. Everything was a whirlwind but you were just happy to know that in only a short time you would be Mrs. Barnes.

You were currently at your final dress fitting. The wedding was just a week away and you couldn’t be more excited to finally be marrying your childhood best friend.

“Excuse me ma’am,” One of the handmaids interrupted, “James is here and he requested to speak with you, he says it’s urgent.”

You frowned at that. You had no idea what he would deem as urgent to interrupt your last fitting.

“We are basically done here.” You told her, “Tell him I just need a moment to change and I will meet him in the drawing room in a moment.”

You took one final look at the dress before quickly signaling for everyone to help you get undressed. You got back into your normal clothes as quickly as you possibly could.

“James, what is it?” You asked as you finally entered the drawing room. He was pacing around the room which only made you more nervous.

“I am so sorry, my love,” James sighed as he walked up to you, “We must postpone the wedding.”

“Why on earth?” Your frown deepened.

“I have to go back out to sea,” He told you.

“You promised you weren’t leaving until after the wedding, James.”

“I know, and I wish I had a choice, I truly do.” The look in his eyes told you he was sincere, “There are pirates threatening a major port that we cannot lose, they need all the help they can get.”

“How long?” You asked.

“Shouldn’t be long at all,” He told you, “I will be back before you know it, and we will then get married and finally be together, I promise.”

“You better come back to me,” You said softly. The idea that he was leaving to fight off pirates left you terrified for his safety.

“I will, I could never leave you.” He leaned down and gave you a brief kiss.

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips.

“I love you too,” He replied “I can’t wait to get back to you and get married.”

“Be safe,” You told him as he broke away from you to leave.

You hated the pit you felt in your stomach as you watched him leave. You felt it every time he left to go to sea. He assured you that he knew what he was doing and he would always make it back, and so far he had but it didn’t make it any easier.

You didn’t sleep well in the nights that followed. Your mother and father had to deal with getting everything delayed but make sure it would be ready when he returned. Not only were they antsy to marry you off, they knew that is what you wanted.

You were relaxing under a tree, reading a book, trying to distract yourself when you noticed a carriage in your driveway. You watched as a man in a uniform stepped out, and you felt your stomach drop. You knew that James’ parents were over visiting with yours and discussing more wedding arrangements. You had a feeling that whatever the man was saying it was not going to be good.

You were quick to get up and rush to the door as well. Whatever news he was going to give you wanted to be in the room to hear it.

You made it into the house quickly and made your way to the study.

“I am sorry to inform you, but James Barnes was killed in action by Pirate Roberts.”

You couldn’t help the sob that slipped past your lips. You could barely comprehend the thought that James was gone. You had even been able to start your life with him and he was just dead? You felt yourself collapse but were caught by your handmaid before you hit the ground.

“No, he can’t” You sob into her side, “He promised me he would come home,”

[deathblightprince]

Shit, it looks like the jig is up. Hopefully she just thinks he’s soggy right now and trying a new tactic to find comfort. 

He already found a great comfort in feeling her gentle touch and rub. It helped eased some of the oncoming anxiety about what he was going to ask her. 

“Fia, doth thou mind standing up for me, so I can see thou better?” Odd question. He’s never made himself known to have vision problems, and that’s because he doesn’t. Oh man, he regrets just taking her under a tree, he should have sat her on a rock or something so she had some leverage over him. 

Once she stood up he took her hands in his, cradling them as he lifts them to his lips. He lays gentle kisses upon her hands, then her knuckles, ending with her fingers before he would lift his head to look at her. He swallowed a lump in his throat, biting back his anxiety before speaking to her.

“I thank you, from the bottom of mine heart, for everything thou hast done for me.” He starts, his voice speaking of genuine passion and gratitude. There was hints of his anxiety in how his voice trembled slightly, but he continued. 

“I understand that thou may feel inadequate, like thou should not be here. I want to let thee know how much I value thy presence. What thou do everyday may mean nothing to thee, but it means everything to me...” He could already feel tears welling up. He choked them back by clearing his throat. Not yet, not yet! You haven’t even gotten to the important question yet!

“Thy words of comfort, thy gentle encouragement. The way thou hold me, hug, kiss, and lay with me is something I live for. I hath grown to forget what it was once like without thy touch, let alone thy presence... In times such as now, I know not of how I would survive if it was not for thee. There is no one... No one at all that I love more.” He delicately caresses her hands with his thumbs. It was another subconscious sign of his affection towards her.

“Thou hast not only made me a living man, but a free man as well. The Golden Order would rather keep me in a cage, forced into an arranged political marriage, and string me around like a puppet before ever letting me choose to be with someone I love. In this case, there is no one more worthy than thou.” He then takes a hand away, reaching for the ring box in his pocket. He carefully flips the lid off the box before presenting the ring to her. It was a gorgeous little thing, a silver band that was studded with large purplish black rock. There was a simple but elegant engraving of branches that lined the band. 

“Will you marry me, Fia?” 

"Sun is awfully bright, is it not?"

He asked, the hood over his head was pulled back, but he wished he didn't touch it now. Who knew the sun would shine so brightly in the middle of summer? Not Godwyn, the prince who lives underground apparently.

He carried Fia in his arms, allowing her to enjoy the breeze unburdened. He carried her on the way up to the Altus Plateau, he didn't show any sign of wanting to put her down anytime soon.

He remembered these golden fields. They weren't that far from the outer walls of Leyendell. He spent a good portion of his late childhood and early teenage years training, camping, and hunting in this stretch of land. He half expected Fortissax to come swooping down from the heavens to meet him.

Those days are gone. He didn't dwell on it though, a new chapter was ahead.

@deathblightprince (proposal RP :3)

Fia was, for the time being, content with being carried. These golden fields were a ways away from where they emerged from, and this gesture seemed to keep him in a relaxed state.

Godwyn has been agitated since he discovered a dark secret relating to his death, and little brought him comfort these days.

“Indeed. I can scarce see what lies ahead of us…”

Her small white hand shielded her eyes from the sunlight while her robes waved gently in the wind.

She breathed in the fresh air deliberately, somewhat enjoying the vibrancy of life for once. She tried not to let her contentment show, however.

[hawnks]

if you have yime, could you recommend some romance novels to read? (you can answer this private or public, idc 💗)

snkdkxkckckc i read almost exclusively historical romance. every sub-genre has its like…. reason for existing and this one in particular is about repression of desire and struggling to fit into a really unforgiving society. YES they all have very funny names. Romance writers understand the inherent ridiculousness of their own tropes, and we all just have to live with that.

a note: romance series are organized in a way that you should be able to pick up from basically any point in the series without having too much trouble. Choose a premise and a heroine you like, and go from there.

my all time favorite is the Rescued from Ruin series by Elisa Braden (but DONT start with the first or second book, Braden gets better as she continues to write I SWEAR). it focuses on female leads who are distinct outcasts, anything from being fat to having ptsd.

Recommended starting point: The Devil Is A Marquess

A marriage of convenience between an impoverished Marquess and a wealthy but incredibly awkward heiress. He wants to be able to pay the bills. She wants her freedom. This is purely a business relationship — until it isn’t.

Personal fave: A Marriage Made In Scandal

A murder plot. A footman kissing heroine. A whole lot of horticulture. Social pariah Eugenia saves a family friend from being thrown in the slammer. The only catch? She told the cops they were sleeping together as an alibi, and now they have no choice but to tie the knot. While evading a cold blooded killer, no less.

Kerrigan Byrne’s Victorian Rebels gets dark, but the tension and pacing is wonderful. No pearl clutching here. The trade off is a lot of murder though. Check for triggers.

Recommended starting point: The Highwayman

Childhood friends reunited under less than pleasant circumstances. He wants her back. And now that he’s a crime lord he doesn’t really see any reason he can’t just… take her. That’s how good relationships are formed, right?

Personal favorite: The Duke With The Dragon Tattoo

Yeah yeah the title I know. This one is about a pirate and his first love but I can’t say anything about it without spoiling the big twist of the first novel :’)

Lisa Kleypas the Wallflower Series is what got me started on actually liking romance novels. It’ll always have a special place in my heart.

Recommended starting point: The Devil in Winter

Evie needs to get away from her abusive extended family before they kill her for her inheritance. Sebastian Lord St. Vincent…. also wants that inheritance, but at least he won’t try to off her. In fact, their arrangement seems almost perfect — neither of them cares about the other, so she’s free to look after her ailing father, and he’s able to go gamble or sleep around or whatever regency bad boys do. That is, until he catches feelings.

Personal favorite: Scandal In Spring

The last book in the series. Daisy is… eclectic. She’s a dreamer (and a reader), and always has her head in the clouds — to the dismay of her strict father. The one thing she could do to get in his good graces is tie the knot with the man of his choosing, his business protégé Mathew Swift. So of course he’s the one man Daisy will never ever ever marry. Unfortunately for all parties involved, Mathew has been wildly in love with Daisy for years. Doubly unfortunate? He can never actually get married (not that anyone bothered to ask).

More authors (your mileage may vary): Sarah McLean, Tessa Dare (if you’re looking for Bridgerton-esque start here), Eloisa James, Scarlet Pehkam (bdsm themes)

[spasmsofthought]

rituals. (zuko x water tribe!reader)

+This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated it to be, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I’m sorry if Zuko feels out of character; I tried my best to not make him so. I wrote him in my mind to be older than 16 and with, at least, a year of Fire Lord experience with him. All of the things he says in this fic may not be completely on point, but I hope I made sense of his character in this situation and kept an accurate frame of reference for you to hold onto! 

I’ve been thinking: What would it have been like to marry the Fire Lord if you were an outsider, from another nation/element? And where that question led me is what produced this. 

I tried my best to have accurate research, but if something’s off or wrong, please kindly let me know! I’m not an expert about the fandom here. 

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this mess of fluffy Fire Lord Zuko and a Water Tribe OC just trying to navigate the way between two different cultures. 

Read Part II here! 

Like, comment, reblog! 

--

“Thank you.” You smile softly as some Fire Palace officials make their way out of the giant, ornate room. Their faces are more stoic, but there is one older man who gives you a slight quirk of his lips before they are back in a thin line. He’s been the only one who has been semi-kind to you. The rest of them have just been rigid and downright insufferable. It takes a few moments before their footsteps recede and you are surrounded by silence. 

It turns out that the Fire Lord asking you to become his wife comes with a lot more than you thought it would. 

And of course, you had never been blind to the fact that Zuko is of royal lineage. His family has passed down the title and office of Fire Lord for generations. The people of the Fire Nation have known this family for over a century. 

The blood definitely feels thicker than water here, though Zuko’s own familial situation may testify against that. 

How naïve of you to think any of this would be simple and easy. Nothing about this past century has been.

You press your head to the solid table beneath you, hand-crafted and polished so that it shines like the stars you remember seeing at night back home. Frustration and stress knit your shoulders together, your arms curling in towards your midsection.  

Deep breath in, the voice of your mother reminds you. You can barely remember her face now, lost to time, but her voice still somehow stays clear. You hope it stays that way for a long time. Now let it go, she says, too. 

If you close your eyes, you can almost picture your little family’s home. The sea squid hanging out to dry so that it can be prepared for supper and her bed disheveled but lined with furs that keep you both warm at night and during the coldest days. It’s probably empty now, a home to no one. 

You exhale, forehead still pressed against the table. You repeat the process a few more times, trying to somehow expel the tightness of your shoulders. The weight stays. Despite whatever you may lose,  being with Zuko is the closest to home you will ever feel now. 

You get up from your seated position at the table and move to a window, looking down at the picturesque landscape of a quiet pond garden. You lean against a pillar supporting the ceiling and try to absorb yourself in the peaceful scenery. You close your eyes and try to listen to the sound of the soft breeze rustling the leaves of the tree. You just want it all to go away for a second.

“Have they exhausted you yet?” A gravelly voice behind you asks. 

You turn to see Zuko standing in the open doorway. He’s dressed in all his formal attire, of course, but he seems to carry his own weight on his shoulders today. 

Idiot, you think, of course he looks stressed and weighed down. He’s trying to re-establish peace among four nations after the 100-year war his ancestor started. 

“Yeah, sure.” You mumble and smile softly. 

The moment doesn’t last long before you turn back to the pond, stomach churning now. The grief and the stress mingle together. You miss home, you miss the weather and wearing your furs. You miss your parents, who have been gone for four years; your father to the war and your mother to sickness. The ache never seems to go away, but it dulls when Zuko is able to be around. 

Zuko makes his way to stand beside you, saying nothing as he directs his gaze also to the peaceful pond, undisturbed by people or the noise of the outside world. 

Despite what you had been told about the Fire Nation your whole life growing up, and what you’d been told about Zuko during the War, you’d always appreciated when he did this. Despite his title and the lineage he carries, he’s always treated you like an equal. You are no less to him because you are female, and you are no less to him because you come from the Water Tribe. 

If it had been a few years ago, you wonder if he would have thought differently. Or perhaps he has always been able to understand honor more than most since he was a child, and that was part of the reason he was the one who was destined to be Fire Lord all along. 

You take in the side profile of his face for a moment, trying to gather the strength you’ve always had inside you.  

“I don’t want to worry you,” You begin, turning back to the view of the pond. 

It’s still and quiet and sounds like a great place to escape to in this present moment. 

“I’ll let you know when I can’t handle it,” His sardonic tone answers back. 

You know he means it as a joke, but there’s a stark truth to his words. He’s handled much more than a trivial conversation about what may be bothering you.

You take a moment to organize your thoughts so that you don’t come across as an emotional train wreck. Zuko has always seemed to have infinite patience with you while you express your emotions, but emotional intelligence is new to him as well. You don’t want to burden him with trying to figure out your emotions while he’s trying to cope with and understand his own. 

“I just... I didn’t know how difficult this would be.” 

“What?” He sounds a bit surprised. 

“Adopting your culture as my own,” Zuko opens his mouth but you stop him before he can even begin. “From a shallow frame of reference, I had always known your culture and your people would be different than mine. And the time I spent traveling back and forth from the Water Tribe to here when I was only your girlfriend gave me some exposure, but I didn’t know. Not really. Most of your people have been so indoctrinated by nationalistic propaganda that our union wouldn’t have really even been conceivable a few years ago.” 

There’s another moment of silence as you take a breath and exhale it. In and out. Zuko doesn’t try to interrupt the moment with platitudes or words of comfort, and that’s another thing you’ve grown to love about him. 

He doesn’t say something he doesn’t mean. It’s not in his nature to do so. 

In allowing each of you to struggle with the weight of your words and emotions, he honors your emotions without dismissing them. Sometimes, it leaves you speechless because the practice is so ingrained in him, there are times he doesn’t even notice he does it. 

“I can adapt. That’s not what I’m worried about. My people are strong because we are so willing to adapt to change, just like the ocean: strong and flexible. I can belong here without losing myself. I just don’t have anything to bring with me. There is no recognition of my culture, and since these meetings have started a few days ago, I get shut down every time I try to bring something into what should be the happiest day of my life.” 

You turn to him also and take a step closer. His expression remains neutral and you can tell it’s going to take some time for him to digest all of this. For a moment, you place your hands on his chest, clothed with the finest robes available in the Fire Nation. 

“When I said yes to your proposal, to the reality of a life with you, I meant it with all of my heart. I still do. But I have nothing tying me to my homeland or the place of my birth like you do here.”

He looks like he has a thousand things to say, but then the words fade away before they even make it out of his mouth. Zuko’s face turns back towards the outside, looking out at the pond as a soft breeze again disturbs the tree by the water. He always gets this look in his eyes when he’s in deep thought. The dilemma is less with him and his position as Fire Lord and more with how to integrate you in his world without making you “fit in” in ways you were never supposed to. 

“If I’ve learned anything over the past few years,” He begins, still standing straight and looking outside. “It’s that nothing in the world is right if there is no balance.” 

He reaches inside his formal robe and pulls out a box. Your brows furrow in confusion, because Zuko is not one to give gifts. 

“I was going to give this to you later, but it seems like the right time now.” He shrugs and hands you the box while a hand goes to rub his neck. 

He always does this when he feels shy or flustered. It’s kind of cute to see the “decisive Fire Lord” act like a teen aged boy. He had rare opportunity to act like one before. 

The box is like a square and a silk ribbon is tied around it. Your fingers work at the knot while you raise your eyebrow at him. You place the ribbon on the windowsill once it’s unraveled and gently pull the lid off the box. It may have looked inexpensive, but you never truly knew in the Fire Nation. 

The thing inside almost takes your breath away. It’s all blue, every single bit of it. 

It’s a betrothal necklace. 

You didn’t even know Zuko knew they existed, let alone what it would have meant in your culture if he gave you one. (Granted, he’s already asked you to marry him, but for the moment you dismiss the thought.) 

It’s true, most marriages are arranged by parents or parental figures in the Water Tribe. Most people at home are not as lucky as you have been to freely choose a partner, whether inside the Tribe or outside of it. Sometimes it seems a more hollowed out gesture when neither party is truly looking to get married for love. But the ones that do always give the necklace its meaning and purpose. 

“I asked Katara for some help,” He began to explain as you stare at the necklace. “I didn’t know what I was doing or where I should go, so she was the one who guided me. She gave me some ideas of what the carving in the stone should represent, but in the end, I came up with the design by myself.” 

Zuko rubs the back of his neck again as you glance between him and the necklace. 

The choker is dark blue as always, but the color gives you some semblance of peace. Blue isn’t a very prominent color displayed in the Fire Nation. Indeed, the stone fastened to the choker has already been carved into. The design is somehow intricate and simple at the same time. It is intimate without being gaudy or overdone. It is all blue and reflective of the culture you grew up in and the one you still carry with you. 

“You carved it yourself?” You whisper, not doubting the answer but still needing to ask it. Zuko just nods and your eyes well up with tears. He doesn’t even know how sacred this necklace is to you in a place where no one else will ever understand its full importance and meaning. 

“Will you put it on for me?” You hand the necklace to him as you also discard the box on the windowsill and turn your back to him. You’re thankful your hair is already tied back (still adorned with various blue beads from your background) as you sweep it to the side so Zuko can clasp the necklace around your neck. 

The weight of it is unfamiliar but grounding. It anchors you to the truth. It reminds you that no matter what marrying Zuko looks like, you carry your culture with you wherever you go. The way you treat others, hold yourself, and what you, hopefully, pass down to your children is far more important than what traditions you do or don’t adhere to in a ceremony. 

“I’ll talk to the officials,” He offers as he clasps the choker together. “You should be able to have all the customs that are important to you when we get married. You have always been my equal, but this time it will be a fact and not just an assumption.” 

You touch the stone with your fingers as you turn back to face him. The tears are already sliding down your cheeks, but you also give him a sweet close-lipped smile. He knows but he doesn’t. And that is what makes him so beautiful. 

You cup his face between your palms and feel him relax a little. Physical affection had never been a priority in his childhood or adolescence, but you can tell he’s starting to understand why you think it’s important to give and receive it. 

“Thank you,” You say, smiling wider. 

You close the distance and bring your mouth towards his. The kiss is steady and soft but also full of unrestrained emotion. Zuko gives you a second one before you both pull apart. He just shakes his head. 

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.” He whispers back as he brings you to his chest. 

He is home now, and that is what matters. 

[writingwife-83]

Hello!! I saw your post regarding sending dialogue prompts if we come up with it, so here's one :)

"I love you but we can't keep going like this."

Can you please write a Sherlolly fic for this one? I absolutely love your writing and look forward to your Sherlolly fics all the time! Cheers ;)

Hi, anon! I hope this one isn’t too much of a stretch, but this is just what came to my mind when I thought about the prompt. I tried to squeeze it all into a one shot and it started to come out weird, so I abandoned that plan. Hopefully I’ll be posting part 2 soon! Anyway, hope you and everyone else enjoy this bit of Regency AU angst and romance! 🎀

We Can’t Keep Going Like This

“Shall we dance the next set as well?” Sherlock asked as they exited the dance floor, Molly on his arm.

She shook her head, giving him a tight smile. “Thank you, no. In fact, I would much prefer some fresh air.”

Molly had been especially quiet all night, and she seemed flushed and jittery. Something was on her mind and it was only a matter of time until it came out. He could only assume their impending wedding was weighing heavily on her.

They stepped out into the late summer air which was just beginning to feel a touch cool. It was clearly a welcomed change from the stuffy confined of the ballroom as Molly shut her eyes and breathed in deep.

“Dreadfully crowded,” Sherlock commented, leaning against one of the columns of the vine shrouded veranda. “The Watson’s always seem to insist on inviting absolutely every family in the entire countryside. I hardly see the appeal. The noise and heat put quite a damper on the pleasant time that might be had enjoying music and dancing. I myself would never choose to-“

“Mr. Holmes, I shall be going away soon.”

Sherlock halted, his gaze shifting to her as he tilted his head in confusion. “Going away where?”

Molly fiddled with her hands, pacing a bit in the moonlight. “I have a great aunt in Scotland. I’ve written to her and asked if I might come and stay for a while, and just today I received her reply that she’d be happy to have me. I plan to depart in another day or two if I’m able.”

“But with merely a fortnight before our wedding?” Sherlock questioned with a little laugh. “You would scarce arrive and unpack before you’d have to return. It hardly seems worth the effort.”

“That’s just it, Mr. Holmes,” she replied quietly. “There will not be a wedding.”

He stared at her in silence for a moment, absorbing her words as best he could.

“But it has all been…arranged,” he argued, the words sounding weak, even to him.

“And it never should have been arranged in the first place.” Molly’s voice became firmer and she stopped pacing, turning to him and regarding him seriously. “I love you, but we can’t keep going like this.”

I love you.

She hadn’t said those words since…well, since that fateful day a couple of months before.

“I know there was hardly anything else for your family to do after what happened with your sister,” Molly went on.

Yes, she did rather force everybody’s hand, Sherlock thought. A crowded London ball was an inconvenient time for Eurus to go completely mad, especially since the incident included threatening Molly Hooper’s life and insisting that she and Sherlock confess their love for each other as the only way to keep her safe. It was a chaotic and heart stopping moment that he, and likely everyone else in attendance, wouldn’t soon forget. Once things were handled with his sister and the dust had settled, it went without saying that some days later an engagement simply had to be announced.

“But regardless, I cannot allow this marriage to take place.” Molly shook her head, resuming her pacing. “It is happening for all the wrong reasons but I know that neither you nor your family would ever put a stop to it, which is of course a credit to you all! So I find that I am the only one who can do what must be done. I can make a home in Scotland with my aunt, where nobody knows me. A broken engagement will be left far behind, and I can do my best to start fresh…just as you will be free to do.”

Words failed Sherlock. Not only had this completely taken him by surprise, but it also felt so very wrong.

“Forgive me, but that is quite an upheaval to pick up and move your life so far away. You needn’t make such a decision so hastily,” he finally voiced.

Molly’s lip quivered when she spoke again. “Mr Holmes, I have wrestled with myself and considered all possible options since the very moment our engagement was announced! There is nothing hasty about this decision. Surely you can see this is the most logical option.”

It was at that moment that Sherlock realized he hadn’t considered any other options. Since they’d become engaged, he’d simply accepted the fact and carried on.

“For whom is this the logical option?” Sherlock found himself questioning, stepping closer and eyeing her curiously. “Forgive me, but only a moment ago you stated that you love me, and this time it was under no duress. And yet you plan to uproot your life and flee from our impending marriage. Why?”

Molly tilted her chin in the air, squaring her shoulders as she spoke coolly. “I take no pleasure in a union that is rooted in little more than obligation and pity.”

Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “Obligation and pity? But you are my friend, Miss Hooper. We are friends, are we not?”

“I did like to think so, yes.” She smiled softly, then hesitated, blushing a little. “But, Mr. Holmes, before all of this, tell me truthfully…had you ever thought to propose?”

Air caught in his throat and he had to swallow thickly, knowing full well that a lack of response would be just as clear to her as any spoken word.

Molly’s lips twisted and she looked down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I shall leave a note,” she explained, a little hitch in her voice. “I will explain that I am sorry for any hurt I may cause but that I simply have no wish to marry. That will surely free you from any guilt in the matter.”

She moved to leave but Sherlock caught her wrist, causing her to whirl back and face him, eyes wide in surprise.

“And that is to be the end of it?” Sherlock asked, his voice half desperation and half confusion as his thumb moved unconsciously over the silk of her glove. “You’d truly leave England?”

“Can you not see this is for the best?” Molly whispered, a sheen reflecting in her eyes. “I beg you not to make this any harder than it already is.”

And with that, her hand slipped from his and she hurried back inside the ballroom. Sherlock watched her as she made her way through the crowds, his feet frozen in place even as he felt the urge to rush after her.

He stayed outside, replaying the words they’d just exchanged over and over, and he realized that he was about to lose Molly Hooper. The reality of it was a revelation that rivaled even his public declaration of love.

A declaration which, now more than ever, he was very sure he meant.