#Miles would be like “He's the man I married Your Honor but he's also a moron.”

[feralforbeanix]

It's so funny to me when I read a fanfic or even an online post about how if wrightworth (or any defense attorney x prosecutor ship) happened they wouldn't be able to face each other in court any more.

My brother in christ this is Ace Attorney. If you're worried about what is and isn't allowed in actual court I've got some bad news about most of what happens in canon.

[smolvenger]

Twenty-Seven Wounds (Coriolanus x fem! Reader)

Summary: In ancient times, in a place that calls itself Rome, you find yourself married to the general Caius Martius or Coriolanus. He has fought so many battles he has twenty-seven scars on his body. Scars that he has not shown you yet...

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut, discussions of war, violence. Drunkenness and brief harassment but the asshole is put in his place. Grumpy and Sunshine trope. I do my best to write Caius accurately. But at the end of the day, it's MY indulgent fic and here he's a big tough warmonger who becomes a simp that kisses the ground his cinnamon roll wife walks on. References to the play and to ancient Roman customs and words. A fake kidnapping.

Word Count: 3K

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

“General Martius has asked me for your hand in marriage and I consented,” your father announced.

Your vision went dizzy. You had to sit down. You knew many things about General Caius Martius, otherwise known as Coriolanus since his great victory in the land of Corioles. 

As you sat back down to process the news, you recounted every instance of interaction. You met him in the chariot races. Menenius introduced you to each other- the senator's bald head shining like a crown and his chest as puffed as a peacock's.

"This is the great General Martius! And General- this is the lady Y/N-isn't she one of our city's great beauties, hm?"

"Sir! Uh-I-thank you!" you replied, very flustered and surprised he would say that.

General Martius made no reply. Only a polite greeting.

You talked with him at dinners. The odd banquet or party. Saw him in the audience of the Gladiator fights, plays, or chariot races.

But Caius was no run-of-the-mill man. He was a renowned general in the army and known as the fiercest warrior Rome could wish for. Notoriously ferocious on a battlefield. A man who breathed war. He was also notorious for his arrogance and stubbornness and sometimes his anger. You knew he was sensitive to smells- his nose would often crinkle as he walked by the streets.  You knew his mother, Volumina. You knew he enjoyed the Gladiator fights. Though you sometimes turned away when it got too gruesome. If it was too much, he would escort you out. When you came to chariot races, he would be there.

He was still an incredibly attractive man- dark reddish-blonde hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Tall, broad, and striking. When the betrothal was confirmed, he visited where you stayed. Your father joined your hands together. He held them with a delicacy. He then brought them up and kissed them.

“Y/N…I promise you-I will be an honorable husband. You will be protected. You will want for nothing. And they will revere you as they do for me.”

He brought you a little closer so that your hands became entwined. You were not scared of marrying him. No- what scared you was that you were not scared. What scared you was how badly you wanted to marry him. You should have been frustrated that your father agreed to the match without consulting you. All fathers had complete and total say over their children’s marriages…but you were not angry in the least.

“You will be…gentle to me, Caius?” you asked quietly.

“Yes. Yes, I will,” he replied. He placed another hand over yours.

“Ah! What a pretty picture! Come- let us make an offering to the household gods! Let us pray for a blessing for our Y/N and her warrior groom!” your father announced, rubbing his hands together. 

Your wedding happened not too long after. It seemed your family was in a rush to have a connection to the wealthy and famous general.

After the ceremony at the temple of Hera, all of you sat down at your house to a feast. Caius- no, no longer “General Martius” or “General Coriolanus” but just Caius!- sat down next to you. He leaned back and kept an arm around you, his hand rubbing against the side of your arm.

One guest with more wine in his body than decency spittled something that made your stomach curl in offense. He staggered before your seat and pointed a finger at you. 

“Ah! Where can I get a twin of this pretty nymph like Martius’s? Hm? Her breasts will look even better without her wedding gown over them!”

Before you could say a word, Caius lept to his feet. He ran before the drunkard and yanked him by the collar to his face. 

“You will speak with respect to the wife of a general or you will remain quiet!” he barked at the rude guest. 

The room went quiet. You knew if the impulse struck him, Caius would get out his sword and have the bastard sliced in half. The man began to tremble and utter apologies as a friend of his took him away.

“Everyone…let’s have some music now! Before we close the feast-I think it would soothe everyone!” you announced.

Glancing at the musicians frozen with their lyres, they began to play again. You returned to your seat as did your new husband.

“Would you have be different than I am, Y/N?” he whispered to you.

“You were only protecting me…how could I be angry at you or want you different?” you asked.

You gave him a peck on the cheek. He blinked rapidly. You saw him turn bright red and his frown melted into a tiny smile. 

Right as the feast started to wind down, your heart began to drum in your chest. There was the staged kidnapping- for all of Rome knew that the best bride was a maiden who was unwillingly taken from home. So every consenting bride had to pretend as a ceremony for the end of the celebrations. Put on a show good enough to fool the gods for luck.

Getting up from the table, Caius went to the other end of the room to exit through the door. Your mother put her arms around you. He then stormed in on cue like in a Euripedian tragedy.

“This house has something I want! Give me Y/N or I will kill every being who keeps me from her!” he announced in pretense. 

 You could feel yourself trying not to laugh. Your own mother was trying a forced frown.

“Please- mother- don’t let the General take me!” you wailed dutifully.

He went up with his sword out so others stepped back. Then he sheathed it and looked at you, licking his lips.

“I am here! I claim this woman- she is mine now- for my house and my bed!” he declared. 

He took you easily from your mother’s arms and then slung you over his shoulders. You let out a brief squeal- trying to make your laughter sound like tears.

“Mother! Mother! Help!” you cried out in pretend. Glad no one could see your smile as he carried you out. And especially glad you could still ogle his pert behind from where you were dangling for the rest of the “kidnapping.”

He carried you down the streets over his shoulder. Then when you arrived at his place, he transferred you so that he carried you with an arm over your back and the other supporting your legs. For it was bad luck for a young bride to trip. And he kept you in his arms as he ignored his mother and the slaves greeting him and took you straight to his bedroom without a word. Everyone gave each other a look and then went on with their business. 

Caius’s restraint left him as soon as he entered that room. He set you on your feet and then grabbed you. He kissed you so much you could already feel his tongue inside.

“Gods, you are mine now…” he whispered.

He held you so close. You could feel his heat, his desperation, his need to have you. He kept a hand on your back and kept you close. You were getting wet with each touch of his.

He went down to the belt that held your dress. It was tied in a special knot for today- The knot of chastity. And symbolically, one only your husband was allowed to undo. Your heart raced as he began to touch it, a thumb going over the long threads. 

“Caius…I want you…yes-it’s our wedding night, please…” you heard yourself voice. 

 He pulled and fought at the knot almost so much, that he swore that it wasn’t coming off fast enough.  That he would need a knife. Then he used his thumb to edge it out so it would loosen. With several swift tugs and a grunt of his, he yanked the knot undone and the cloth belt came off. He eagerly found the edges of your clothes.

“Yes…my wife…”

You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him again. He then removed the lower parts of his clothes.

There were slaves playing music in the other room. He preferred some quiet music in the evenings. And tonight was no exception. They were to keep playing. To hear him take his wife- no, you. To hear Your cries of pleasure among the soft strings. They were playing when he led you to his lectus and your marriage was passionately consummated. 

You adjusted to married life surprisingly well. And in private, Caius was not the fearsome dragon some heralded him to be. Yes- he was arrogant and stubborn at his worst. But he could be…persuaded, you discovered. 

“And the peasants were crying that they wanted more grain! Grain from our storages!” he reported to you one day over dinner.

“Well…couldn’t we spare just a little bit, dear husband?” you asked.

A Slave brought you a bowl of dates and then left to refill your wine glasses. 

“For the rabble? No-let them hang!” he dismissed.

He tore a bite of meat from its leg and chewed on it like a bear with prey. But you kept your eyes soft and gave him a smile.

“They’re only hungry. Even I become cross when I am hungry! And we have so much food here. Really, it’s more than I can eat! And there are always so many leftovers…surely….just a little grain could be spared, Caius? It would warm my heart to see so many hungry people be fed…they do not complain without reason…perhaps then they won’t complain about you anymore. Just a little bit of grain, Caius? Please?”

You saw his shoulders start to sag. With a deep sigh, he gestured to one of his slaves

“Tell them that five percent of the grain stored will be gathered and distributed to the protesters,” he said. 

You smiled as you looked down.

He was content to sit quietly beside you in some evenings. You could weave your loom and the man who craved battles would merely go over parchments beside you. His desire was like that of an animal though. It only took a look or a smile from you before he was on you, kissing you, and pulling at your clothes to have them come off. The nights when you both did not make love, he still wanted to touch you. He would pull you onto him to rest your head against his chest. You would permit him to rub your back with his hand and wrap his arms protectively around you. As if not even Zeus himself could get past Caius Martius to the treasure that lay in his arms. He often would touch you gently. Even as you walked past him, he would softly just touch a cloth of your skirt, feeling the fabric slip through his fingers longingly as you had to leave. 

There was one dinner where your mother, Volumina, decided to put you to the test. You knew it. As you sat down on the floor enjoying your food, she turned to you and declared something most people would find offensive.

“Ah! I hope in the next battle that my son will receive another scar! Don’t you, Y/N?”

On one hand, you did not want your husband to suffer. But this was Volumina. Her whole life’s purpose was to create a soldier of her boy. To serve the wars in her own way through what she could do behind the scenes. To see him either victorious or dead was her life’s work. Glory in battle meant glory for her and the Martius family. 

Carefully, you added a reply with a dutiful nod of your head.

“Yes- should the scars not be fatal, I see them as badges of honor. And if they were-I am proud to have a husband willing to give his life for the safety of Rome’s people. And if I must sacrifice him for all our sakes, I will make it,” you replied.

“Ah! What a sweet woman you have for your wife, Caius!” Volumina praised, her stained lips curved into a smile. 

There, the middle ground. It wasn’t that bad. But as she slid aside her plate, her talk turned. She looked at you, dressed in her dark clothes with her dark hair done up. Her smile was still big on her creamy face. 

“Did you know, Y/N, that my son bears a total of twenty-seven scars from battle!?” she asked.

“No-he never told me it was that many,” you said with a quick glance at him.

“Yes! And may Ares bring him twenty-seven more!” Volumina said. 

But you had never seen such scars. 

After a few months, you realized something- you had never seen him bare. That was odd. Most women would tell you of how the first time they saw Octavius Cato’s or so-and-so’s willy they burst into laughter. But even the hundreds of times you made love, Caius kept his shirt on. He preferred to bathe alone, never going into the bathhouses. The times he did bathe, sometimes you heard him groan in pain outside the room. As if the scars were still fresh. He always went behind a screen to dress. In bed, he only wore a toge that had short sleeves. You saw a cut over his shoulder peep out. It looked almost like the crack of an earthquake on the soil. But whenever you tried to nudge it in bed, he would move your hand away, asking you to stop. 

You were still unequal. He had kissed every inch of your bare skin. But you had not even seen it. As frightening as that scratch looked, you had to see more. 

That is, until one night. It was uncomfortably warm. You sweated on your shared lectus, tossing and turning in discomfort.  You turned over to see Caius was still awake. He then rolled over of you confirming to the other that you were not asleep. You slept in your underclothes and he still had that toge. And he was sweating. 

“I think you should undress,” you said. 

He turned around, though you could smell his sweat dripping down.

“It’d be better if I didn’t,” he huffed. 

You touched his shoulder, turning him to face you. 

“Caius…why do you show no one your scars?” you asked.

He swallowed.

“They’re….they’re only when Rome needs to see them. When they lose sight. When they lose respect.” he said. r.

“Am I not part of Rome, too?” you asked.

He paused.

“Yes…yes you are…” he answered.

“You’ve never…bared yourself to me like I have to you,” you commented.

“They’re gruesome. It would…it would have scared you, I thought. You wouldn’t want to sleep beside them…too gruesome…” 

He sat up.

“I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight-you don’t want to look at them,” he announced.

But you stopped his hand and kept him still. 

“Caius…may I see them, please?” you asked.

You gingerly touched his chest, right over the toga he wore to bed. You only saw the scratches around his collarbones.

“Are you afraid?” he asked. 

“No. They’re a part of you…I want to see them…” you urged.

His eyes softened. Then you both sat up in bed.

“Then…then remove it for yourself and see.” he permitted. 

You went to the corner edges of his own robe. He helped you as you lifted it over his head. You then got a candle to see it better.

You knew he was a strong man, but there were so many scratches, lashes, and cuts you could not make out the muscles clearly. There were so many cuts and lashes-they looked so dark across his skin. All over his torso. Then there were the newer ones from the battle at Corioles-they still looked red. You set the candle back down on the table near the bed.

“I understand if you wish not to lie with me anymore…I will make arrangements where-”

“No, you don’t have to!” you interrupted.

For once in his life, Caius Martius Coriolanus closed his mouth and he listened.

“Twenty-seven of them. Twenty-seven times you have been wounded. Twenty-seven times you could have died…and didn’t,” you said.  “Can I touch them?”

“Yes,Y/N, you can…”

You lightly took your hand and felt the bumps and edges. He flinched only slightly, then relaxed into it. You could feel the warmth of the sweltering night on him. 

“Caius…may I kiss them?” you asked.

“Yes…”

You gently kissed the back of your three fingers and pressed them over the lower scars. You knew putting your mouth lower would stir something in him. Now was not the moment…and it seemed he would agree. His breathing was deep as your kissed fingers touched the lower ones. Such chaste, light kisses like a butterfly's wing.

As they moved up to his chest, you peppered one kiss across one. Then another. You paused, your mouth over his skin, his steady pulse shaking from your touch.  

“Each one…you survived. You defeated your enemies…you protected your allies…and you protected me…and you survived, Caius,” you whispered.

He put a hand to touch your cheek and you leaned into it.

“Dulcissima…my sweetest…thank you…”

“Do they hurt right now?” you asked.

His voice smoothed and spoke with such tenderness as you had never heard before. He put an arm around you as you kept kissing them. 

“No…they never felt more relieved…my wife, her kisses have their own little medicine…”

You moved up to his shoulder from the first fresh one from Corioles, sweetly kissing them. His soft voice spoke on and you could feel yourself burst from his words.

“Dearest of my heart…my gift from Hera and Aphrodite themselves…”

You kissed the gash on his upper left arm. Then you lifted up to meet him, his eyes brimming with tears. 

“There…twenty-seven kisses for each scar…”

Then he relaxed, your hand tracing his chest. You blew the candle out to the dark. The room suddenly became cooler. Then you nuzzled into him, settling into him. How warm he felt-so close and so real. His chest moving and falling.

“Caius…why did you want to marry me?” you asked.

“I thought…you would do well, being married to me. You…you’re good to me. You…you smiled when you saw me. You weren’t afraid…” he confessed.

“I was nervous every time you noticed me!” you recalled.

You felt the smile in his voice. His other hand found yours and wrapped itself over your palm. He went on.

“So was I! I hate banquets and parties…but I went to them in case you were there. I watched you squirm at the gladiator fights and look away and wish I could…just take you in my arms and take you away from them. But…then there was the time I was with your father’s…. You said something, and it made me laugh…I laughed! That was…when I knew…when I knew I had to be your husband.”

You looked up at him. His eyes were shiny. But you did not see tears. He swallowed, perhaps looking away made him more honest. You nestled back into him and clung to him. He kept talking.

 “I kept…thinking of you. Of what you would say. I kept going to the market. Every day. Just to see you. Even just a glimpse of you passing by. Just one glimpse-not much. To see you walk up to the bathhouses….”

“And you never went in to see me in there…because of your scars?” you asked.

“I knew you frequented them. I confess- I am a man. As much as I would have loved to see you naked and wet, it meant scaring the others away when I removed my clothes, it would have scared you away…”

You went back to look at him. This time you touched his face, looking directly into his blue eyes. 

You pressed a forehead to his.

“They don’t scare me…not anymore, and you don’t scare me…” you whispered. “Caius…Caius, I love you…”

“Y/N…I…I love you too…”

That evening, as the night settled over a place that called itself Rome, you relaxed into bed with your husband. You wrapped your arms to embrace him and he did not put on his toge to hide his scars. He only held you tight. His scars only barely brushed against you. Badges of war. Badges of honor. Badges of protection. He kissed the top of your head as you both settled into sleep. 

[aestheticaltcow]

What Happens in Vegas Doesn't Always Stay in Vegas... Part 4

Carmy and Richie's pilgrimage to Washington DC... was it a mistake? Will Carmy do something regrettable? Will Richie do something equally as stupid?

The Masterlist

Previous part

Part 4 - DC in October

“Are you sure you even want to go Carmy?” Richie questioned for the thousandth time that day. Carmy rolled his eyes and pulled the sleeves of his navy blue sweater up. The two sat in the airport that afternoon. Carmy shrugged “I don’t know.” he answered lazily, looking over to Richie “Cousin, we could just go home- she probably wouldn’t notice you not being there.” “She would.” “Are you trying to win this girl back or somethin’?” 

Carmy never answered Richie’s question. He laid back in his hotel room’s bed. He should have just blown off the wedding; Ellie couldn’t actually want a shitty ex fuck buddy at her wedding. He stared at the ceiling and contemplated his life decisions up to this point. What if he’d gone to Europe to chase Ellie? What if he’d kept texting her? What if he’d reached out to her more? He should have done better. Unfortunately, that was something he couldn’t go back and change. In a mere 24 hours, Ellie would be Mrs. Ellie Aurbey, and he’d never be able to hold her again. 

Richie and Carmy stood at the bar in casual suits at Jack and Ellie’s rehearsal dinner, “What the fuck is a German hooker?” Richie laughed, staring at the wedding bar menu. Carmy shrugged, “We should leave. There's too many cops around here.” Richie looked around as he fidgeted with the menu in his hands. “Don’t worry, handsome. We don’t like it either.” a woman in a dark purple dress commented as she approached the two men. “Now this is a site for sore eyes, Carmen Berzatto in a suit at a wedding for Ellie.” Carmy rolled his eyes “Hi Jenny. Long time no see.” “So, is it true? You two got married in Vegas?” Carmy nodded “Yea. We got divorced over the summer, though.” “When Andy told me you two did something crazy- getting married wasn’t even on the list.” Jenny laughed playfully, pushing Carmy “Who are you, handsome?” she bit her lip, turning her attention to Richie. Carmy chuckled “Careful Cousin, she’s kinky.” 

Carmy was alone on a balcony, staring out at a rose garden. “Didn’t think you’d come, Carmen.” Carmy looked over his shoulder to see Jack standing by the door. “I’m surprised you let her invite me.” Jack chuckled “You think I could have prevented this?” Carmy scoffed “True. She’s a strong-willed woman. I’ll give you that.” Jack stepped closer to the fence surrounding the balcony “Thanks for making the divorce easy. I would also like to apologize for arresting you. I just wanted to kick your ass when I found out.” Carmy nodded in acknowledgment of his apology. “You’re a lucky man, Jack. Ellie is a great girl.” 

“You were right… that Jenny girl was kinky.” Richie laughed as he and Carmy walked toward the elevator the next morning. Carmy shook his head disapprovingly, “You wrap it?” “Of course. Don’t need two child support payments.” 

As Ellie walked down the aisle in her pearly white satin off-shoulder gown, a veil that was practically a mile long decorated with subtle spider webs. Carmy smiled as he took in the sight. This was the wedding Ellie deserved, and he was envious of Jack in that moment. While the idea of a big wedding was Carmy’s worst nightmare- he’d do anything to make Ellie smile like that. 

Their vows were sweet and short; Ellie laughed at Jack’s retelling of their first time meeting and blinked away tears when he promised to love, protect, and honor her until his final breath. “Do you, Elenor Sydney Marks, take Jackson Daniel Aurbery as your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and health for the rest of your days?” Carmy quietly slipped out of the hall before he could hear your answer. Coming here really was a mistake.

“Well, she’s married,” Richie said when he found Carmy outside smoking a cigarette. Richie followed in suit, “You were right. We shouldn’t have come to this.” “You love her or somethin’ Cousin?” Carmy shrugged “I don’t know… Seein’ her over the summer just like - I don’t know.” Richie patted Carmy’s shoulder.

“CAB, you leavin?” Ellie asked when she finally found Carmy awkwardly standing in the corner, waiting for Richie. “Yeah- gotta get back to Chicago.” Ellie nodded and smoothed down her dress “Thanks for coming, Carmen. If you’re ever in DC, come by.” Carmy nodded “Of course, El. You look beautiful, by the way… also now I know your last name.” Ellie smiled “Bye, Carmy.”

Richie stood back and watched Ellie and Carmy’s interaction. Carmy looked like a kicked puppy as he walked away from Ellie, “You okay, Carmy?” he shrugged in response “Don’t worry, kid. She’s just the one who got away.” Carmy chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe I’ll get married one day. I wish it were to Ellie, but she’s happy with that guy, and I’ll be happy with another girl.”

[nicodrawings]

Hi! I’m a somewhat new follower, and I loved your milesganke art so much!

I wanted to ask for your own potential headcanons regarding the miles and ganke’s relationship dynamics.

(I.e. marriage, any arguments, what they’re like living together,…. possible future kids👀, etc.)

Lol hopefully this question isn’t confusing.😭

AAAAAAAA IM SO HAPPY YOU ASKED!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok Imma type the rest cuz my hand is getting tired

-Miles and 20 and Ganke is 19 when they move out. Ganke and Miles see their families once a week.

-I’ve said this before but Miles doesn’t go to college. He trains under Misty Knight and works with S.H.E.I.L.D more as he’s learning more about detective work (and is lowkey preparing to take over as the the new Spider-Man leader once Peter retires)

-Ganke is going to school for tech shit but eventually changes is major to social work (there’s a huge reason for this that I’ll get into in another post)

-They end up adopting a black cat that was called Midnight at the shelter but never really responded to the name. The people working at the shelter said “looks like she chose you” seeing how well she bonded with Ganke immediately. He renamed her CoCo. She’s a sweet girl, a little weird though.

-They aren’t super PDA with each other but much like how Peter and MJ are in my AU (who also aren’t super PDA) you could hear a conversation they’d have with each other and be like “oh! They really care for each other”

-they switch chores and household responsibilities depending on work and school scheduling

-They can both be workaholics AND night owls so they constantly have to hold each other accountable for yknow…resting.

-they make a specific day out of the week where they both do nothing having to do with school or work. They just sleep in and have a slow morning and watch Burn Notice all day and talk about nothing and anything all at once.

-They’re both not screamers when they argue but can throw some hurtful words around that they regret saying once they cool down. Also Ganke can be dismissive when he’s irritated or angry. Something they learn to work on overtime.

-Big spoon/Little spoon is interchangeable depending on how they sleepin that day.

-Miles is the better cook. He like cooks well without even trying. It infuriates Ganke but he can’t be too mad cuz he gets to eat the food.

-It would be 5 years before Miles pops the big question.

-Miles is a giant sap who knew he was gonna marry Ganke the moment they started dating.

-He would propose at the park. He proposed there because that’s where they would have playdates when they were kids.

-Ganke just laughs because he planned on proposing to him a week later. He obviously says yes.

-The wedding isn’t big. They make sure to save a seat for Gankes dad. He put a framed picture on his chair to represent his attendance.

-They do the same for Uncle Aaron despite him and Miles’s tumultuous relationship.

-Hobie is the best man

-Gwen is the maid of honor

-It would be about 3 years or so before they meet 2 super powered little ones, a boy and a girl. They’re fraternal twins. They end up adopting the twins.

This is it for now. I’m sure there’s more stuff my brain can’t think of right now. BUT THANK YOU THOUGH FOR BEING INVESTED ENOUGH TO ASK ME QUESTIONS YOU DONT KNOW HOW HAPPY IT MADE ME TO SEE YOU ASK THIS QUESTION!

I actually have so much set up plot wise for this AU that I might as well do it legitimately. But imma take my time if I do.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed my ramblings!

UPDATE: I meant to say that Miles is NOT out to his parents.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Dagger Squad as the Great Houses of Westeros 🐉| TGM headcanon

Link to my TGM Masterlist & GOT masterlist

Matching the Dagger Squad to the great houses of Westeros based on personality & characteristics (This has been nagging me all week and just remember this is MY own personal opinion. Feel free to leave your own in the comments but let’s be respectful even if you disagree) Words in color represent the House Motto.

Cpt. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell — House Tully of the Riverrun (The Riverlands) 🐟 | Family, Duty, Honor / House Targaryen of Dragonstone (the Crownlands) | Fire and Blood 🐉

Okay so the reason I gave Maverick both House Tully & Targaryen is because I could not really decide. My reason for House Tully is because I think of Ser Brynden the Blackfish. Brynden had no interest in becoming a lord (like Mav had no interest in being higher rank than a Captain) and took no wife (Mav didn’t marry). Brynden was also outspoken and prideful which I see in Pete, especially with his superiors *cough* Cyclone *cough*.

The reason I also put him as House Targaryen was due to his name being notorious in the Navy long before he was even in. His father was often the reason people had preconceptions of him (kinda like Daenerys with her entire family—but especially her father). Pete has a lot of fire in him which is what drives him to do what he does and sometimes that could be acting irrational. And well, there’s fire within the blood of the dragon 😉

Lt. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw — House Baratheon of Storm’s End (the Stormlands) | Ours Is The Fury 🦌

So House Baratheon is the youngest of the Great Houses of Westeros, and given Rooster was set back for years in his career he is probably the ‘youngest’ in terms of working up the ranks compared to his fellow daggers. Not only that, but members of house Baratheon are known for their bravery and Rooster displayed this immensely when he went back to save Mav which resulted in him getting shot down. (Just to say, Miles Teller could easily portray a Baratheon with his dark hair and eyes. HOTD S2 👀??) His jab to Hangman in the bar scene reminded me of when Renly Baratheon insulted his brother Stannis during the War of the Five Kings—and pretty much every settle insult Robert Baratheon said in S1.

Lt. Natasha “Phoenix” Trace — House Stark of Winterfell (The North) | Winter is Coming 🐺

Like the Starks don’t need to boast about their positive attributes in their motto, Phoenix doesn’t need to remind anyone of how damn good of a pilot she is. To her, the importance is on the bigger picture like how to succeed in a team mission and there’s always the risk of threat to everyone. I see Phoenix as the most loyal of the Dagger squad and would easily have the others back her up when she gives her word to help someone. Once she gives her word, it’s set in stone—which the Starks are known for because Lord Corlys once said, ‘There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath, and with House Stark the North will follow.’

Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin — House Lannister of Casterly Rock (The Westerlands/Crownlands)| Here Me Roar! 🦁

This one is very straight forward. Not only is Hangman literally what Lannisters have always been described as with their golden hair and green eyes, but he holds the arrogance and cunning traits a Lannister has. This man (and even Glen himself) could literally play a Lannister in an adaptation and would embody it. Similar to Tywin, he’s gonna say and do whatever plotting is necessary to get what he wants. Like Cersie Lannister, Hangman knows how to push buttons and make people despise him, but like Tyrion and even Jaime, there is a soft, kindness to him that is rare to see. If Hangman had watched GOT, he would totally be the type to tell himself in the mirror, ‘The lion does not concern himself with the opinion of a sheep.’ Words of wisdom from Tywin Lannister.

Lt. Ruben “Payback” Fitch — House Arryn of Eyrie (The Vale) | As High As Honor 🦅

I feel that honor is an important thing to Payback which is why I match him with the House who holds the largest army in Westeros, House Arryn. Payback would never lose his honor, like a Knight of the Vale, no matter what may come his way. The Knights of the Vale have a standing reputation as the greatest warriors and as a Top Gun graduate, Payback is one of the greatest pilots the world has ever seen. The Knights of the Vale know how to get payback (#battleofthebasterds) and considering Ruben’s callsign is ‘payback,’….well we can assume why he was bestowed such. He’s a master of the skies in his F-18, just like the falcon of House Arryn’s sigil.

Lt. Robert “Bob” Floyd — House Tyrell of Highgarden (The Reach) | Growing Strong 🌼

One thing about a golden rose is that one is so focused on the beauty of the flower that they forget about the thorns. If Bob was in Westeros I swear he would be a Tyrell with his soft appearance that hides away his sassiness. Especially after those settle jabs to Hangman? Sheeesh. He is quiet, reserved, welcoming, and friendly….but he knows how to sharpen his tongue when the time calls for it (just like our Queen of Thorns Lady Olenna). I feel that deep behind that sweet face, is a cunning, ambitious, mastermind (but Bobby boy is still the sweetest bean that I would look on so proud as he demolishes his enemies with his words and plotting). Like yaaas bae, cut them with your thorns.

Lt. Mickey “Fanboy” Gracia — House Martell of Sunspear (Kingdom of Dorne) | Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken ☀️

Mickey just gives me that swagger of Prince Oberyn (I also could totally see Danny Ramirez playing a Martell). All Mickey has to do is smile his pearly white teeth and boom, he’s got you under his spell. He doesn’t take people’s shit, like the motto of House Martel he will not bend to please others and do something he doesn’t want to. His carisma reminds me of Oberyn and I definitely feel House Martell would be his favorite House if Mickey watched GOT. Also it is my personal headcanon that Mickey is an exceptional dancer (like he’s got the moves alright) and if you’ve seen GOT then you know how effortless Oberyn moved with a spear in battle…..that’s Fanboy when the music starts bopping.

Lt. Javy “Coyote” Machado — House Greyjoy of Pyke (The Iron Islands) | We Do Not Sow 🦑

Like House Arryn with the largest Army, House Greyjoy controls the largest fleet in all of Westeros which is the stronghold of their power. Now I could also see Javy as part of House Arryn or even Martell. The reason I chose Greyjoy is because of the G-Loc scene where he managed to come out of it in time and survive what could have been a horrible fate. The Greyjoys in GOT definitely had their fair share of near-death (looking at you Theon) quite a handful of times, but always managed to come out on top. The other house words associated with the Greyjoys is, ‘What Is Dead May Never Die,’ and tbh I can see Coyote thinking that after his near-death encounter in the desert.

[captainswanapproved]

An Indecent Proposal- Chapter 14

A03,Prologue, Chapter 1,Chapter 2,Chapter 3, Chapter 4,Chapter 5,Chapter 6,Interlude,Chapter 7,Chapter 8,Chapter 9,Chapter 10,Chapter 11,Chapter 12, Chapter 13

Daemon x Rhaenyra Multichapter AU:

Daemon leaves Rhaenyra at her wedding feast. Rhaenyra marries Laenor. After a year of trying to do their duty and produce an heir, Rhaenyra writes to Daemon.

She needs a true Targaryen heir.

It only needs to be an arrangement of business, she says. And it would result in Daemon’s child one day taking the Iron Throne.

Daemon accepts the proposal and returns to court.

Only, ventures like these are never simple. As much as they would wish to, Daemon and Rhaenyra cannot let go of the past, or the feelings they once had for each other.

120 AC 

Alicent paced back and forth through her chambers. Criston sat with Daeron, brushing the dye through his hair. The boy did not like the treatment, but it was necessary. He held his golden egg, which still did not seem close to hatching. Perhaps it never would. Perhaps she should send it to Aegon.

But Aegon was thousands of miles away in the North, and Aemond was no better, in the Vale as he was.

Why was her father taking so long to write?

At long last, her maid knocked on the door, a letter in hand.

Alicent took the letter and sent her away.

Daughter,

You are being a fool. It would be unwise to go to Viserys with the suggestion that Daemon is bedding his daughter. He will not take the word of a maid over that of his Hand and Heir. And it would turn him against you.

You must go to him and apologize for your anger and for the distance between you. Take him into your bed again. Draw him back to your side as he is sated.

As for Daemon and Rhaenyra, you will have to catch them in the act yourself. As much as I loathe to admit it, Rhaenyra was clever to have her bastards with Daemon. They can be successfully passed off as Velaryons because of the Valyrian blood shared between House Targaryen and House Velaryon.

You will have to be cleverer than Rhaenyra.

What we need is time. The maester say that the poison will take many years. He will slowly decay, which will give me time to gather forces to challenge Rhaenyra once Viserys is gone. Aegon will make allies in the North, and Aemond will use his time in the Vale to gain support for our cause.

There is also another plan in motion. I dare not put it in writing, but consider it a blessing that your children are without dragons.

Keep your spies trailing our enemies. Sow the seeds of doubt about Rhaenyra’s children to the small folk. Bring Viserys back to your side. Bide your time.

Your Lord Father

Alicent read the letter three times before burning it.

Criston approached her. She flinched when he touched her shoulder. “My love, allow me to go into the city. I will spread rumors that the spoiled cunt is allowing the Hand between her legs. The gold cloaks who are loyal to me will bring the news to every brothel and wine sink in King’s Landing. When the rumors come from the people, Viserys will be forced to deal with them.”

Alicent was unsure if that would work. Ser Criston was not loved by the small folk as Daemon was. Still, she had to appear innocent in the accusations against Rhaenyra and Daemon. She had to win back Viserys’ heart in order to get him to name Aegon the heir after Rhaenyra’s inevitable down fall.

Perhaps the occasion would arise where they would expose themselves, careless as they were. She should have expected it. Rhaenyra had lusted for her uncle for years. Targaryens had queer and blasphemous customs of intermarriage between kin. It would be their downfall one day, if there was any justice in the world.

***

Laenor Velaryon was a man of honor. He had always done his duty and concealed his love for men. He had protected Rhaenyra and her reputation, as well as her children. He had been discreet in his dealings with Ser Qarl.

All of this, though, was not conducive to true happiness. Ser Qarl had been called back to the Stepstones. He would be departing within the moon and now Laenor felt that he was losing a piece of his heart.

Laenor sat drinking ale in Jaela’s establishment, knowing the woman to be loyal to Daemon and Rhaenyra. It was a safe place where he could go to escape his troubles. Or so he thought.

“Ah, It is Ser Laenor, the Cuckold Seahorse. Tell me, Ser, does your hand not work? Is that why our Princess so desperate to take her father’s Hand into her bed?” The knight laughed drunkenly and raised his mug. “To Ser Laenor Velaryon, the Cuckold Seahorse.”

Laenor drew his sword. “Where did you hear this slander?”

The patrons of the establishment stopped their activities to watch with rapt attention.

“There are many in the Red Keep who see the Princess for what she is, an unfaithful whore. She is not worthy to rule the kingdoms. She is a blasphemous bitch who rides her uncle as much as she rides her dragon.”

Laenor punched the man in the face. “You speak words of treason!” Laenor cried. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jaela run for men of the City Watch.

As the man was dragged away, he said, “The truth will come out one day. The Seven will see to it!”

Laenor knew he needed to report the incident to Rhaenyra and Daemon. Jaela would as well, but Laenor wanted them to hear it from his own lips. He left the brothel and hurried back to the Red Keep.

***

Rhaenyra was not one to be bothered by ribald tales. But as Laenor reported the details of the incident in Flea Bottom, she could not help but be concerned.

For all their discretion in the early months of their arrangement, she and Daemon had become careless.

“I am sorry,” Laenor said, looking from Daemon to Rhaenyra.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Laenor. You have played your part faithfully.”

“And you continue to defend Rhaenyra’s reputation and that of our children,” Daemon said. “For that I am grateful.”

“But I cannot be a true Prince Consort,” Laenor said. “Rhaenyra, you deserve to have Daemon as your husband. My house will always stand by your side. But if I were to disappear, you would be free to marry again. With the blessing of the King, these rumors could be crushed into dust.”

“It would have to be more than a simple disappearing act,” Daemon said. “The people of Westeros would need to believe you were dead. We will need time to consider the best course.”

***

Lady Laena Strong and Princess Rhaenyra gave birth within a fortnight of each other. Princess Rhaenyra gave birth to her third son, Prince Joffrey Velaryon.

While Laena gave birth to twin girls, Baela and Rhaena Strong.

The king threw a feast to celebrate the occasion.

Laenor stood, intent on making a strong impression upon the assemblage of courtiers.

“House Velaryon and House Targaryen have stood together since the reign of Aegon the Conqueror. To honor that, it is my pleasure to announce the engagement of my son Prince Lucerys to Baela Strong as well as the engagement of my son Prince Joffrey to Rhaena strong. May our houses always stand united!”

The hall was filled with uproarious applause. Many had heard the rumors of Rhaenyra’s infidelity, but surely, if it were true, Ser Laenor would not wed bastards to his own nieces.

Rhaenyra smiled and rose. “House Targaryen is proud to be so closely tied to House Velaryon! To celebrate these matches, there will be a tourney with a prize of 100 golden dragons to the winner! May the best knight win!”

***

“Are you certain you wish to go through with this?” Rhaenys asked.

She sat with Laena and Laenor in her chambers.

“Yes, Mother. It must be done. I will be safe in Essos, and the Seven Kingdoms will be better off with Daemon as Prince Consort.”

Rhaenys did not dispute that. Her son was tenderhearted and lacked the strength it took to rule. “You will never be able to return. You will be giving up your birthright and your dragon.”

“Mother, it is Laenor’s choice. If Father had not been so determined to see his blood on the Iron Throne, we would not be in this position.”

Rhaenys knew her daughter spoke the truth. “I should have stopped it,” Rhaenys said. “And now, because of my inaction, you will be left to a life of genteel obscurity.”

“I have indulged myself at court for years, and Rhaenyra and Daemon have agreed to a yearly stipend. I shall be fine. You will do all you can to support them, will you not?”

Rhaenys nodded. “I will.” She kissed her son’s forehead and held him tightly. “Will this Ser Qarl truly make you happy?”

“Yes, Mother. I promise.”

Laena said, “Trust me, Mother. I have seen them together and they are insufferable.”

And so it was that Rhaenys enjoyed the last night she would spend in the company of both her beloved children.

***

Daemon was unaccustomed to sitting in the Royal Box during a tourney, but he knew he could have no part in it.

The Green Bitch sat beside Viserys, stroking his arm and kissing his cheek after whispering in his ear. Daemon wondered what the purpose of Alicent’s sudden shift in mood might be. It could be nothing good.

The jousts began and the crowd watched with rapt attention. Daemon kept his eyes on Rhaenyra, often, knowing that she was anxious for their plan to be carried out. Daemon wished he could be at her side, holding her hand, but in the future he would be able to do so.

At last it was Laenor’s turn. He rode upon a sorrel steed, his shield bearing the Velaryon seahorse. His opponent was Ser Qarl Correy.

Laenor easily unhorsed the man and screamed loudly for all to hear. “Is that the best you can offer? Perhaps I was wrong to bring you into the service of House Velaryon. You are a disgrace to your spurs.”

As Laenor dismounted, he removed his helm and walked toward the royal box. Ser Qarl, however, tackled him to the ground and began punching. The crown was enthralled with the action.

At length, two members of the Kingsguard separated them.

As Ser Qarl was dragged away, he challenged Laenor to a duel and vowed to restore his honor.

The joust ended later that afternoon, with Ser Erryk Cargyll named the victor.

That evening, Daemon held Rhaenyra in his arms.

“Are we doing the right thing?” Rhaenyra asked.

Daemon kissed her softly. “The particulars were Laenor’s idea, my love. All will be well.”

“We will have to wait a full year to wed. And you will still have to get my father to agree to it, no matter what Laenor may write in his letter.”

“I would wait longer than that to have you as my wife, Rhaenyra,” Daemon said. “I am a patient man.”

Rhaenyra snorted derisively.

Daemon pinched her bottom. “Very well. I am a patient man when it comes to things that matter, and you and our children are what matter most to me. This is all for the best.”

Rhaenyra leaned against him. “You are right, of course. We did not force Laenor to do this. I simply wish I felt better about it.”

***

Laenor’s last act as Laenor Velaryon was to seal a letter. Qarl had performed his part well. The people of Westeros would believe that he met his demise settling a matter of honor.

After he left his chambers for the last time, he made his way to the roaring fire in the great hall. Only a couple of servants were present. Laenor stood before the hearth to await his fate.

Ser Qarl appeared some moments later.

“Who let you in here?” Laenor asked.

Ser Qarl, however, only said. “You have always looked down on me, Ser Laenor.” He unsheathed his sword.

“You forget your place, Ser. You serve House Velaryon.”

“Perhaps it is time for me to seek my fortunes elsewhere.”

Their swords clashed and an alarmed servant ran for the guard. Once they wera alone in the hall, Laenor and Qarl dragged a dead servant dressed in Velaryon colors from a curtained alcove. Laenor took his lover’s hand. “I will see you soon.”

***

Rhaenys had been prepared to be summoned from her bed, but still, seeing the body of the burned servant was horrible. She wailed her son’s name and demanded that his murderer be contained. Laena embraced her mother as they waited for the others.

Viserys appeared in his robe and night shirt, with his young queen beside him. Rhaenys was surprised, for she was given to understand that the king and his queen had been distant for the last few years.

Rhaenyra and the children were escorted to the hall by Ser Harrold Westerling. Rhaenyra gave an admirable performance of grief, falling to her knees at the sight of her supposed burned husband.

“I warned him not to bother with Ser Qarl,” she cried. “The man has no honor. I want him banished from Westeros.”

Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk Cargyll were swift to obey the princess.

A servant appeared in the hall as they commiserated together. “Pardon me, Your Grace, but this was found in Ser Laenor’s room. His final wishes in the case that he did not survive his duel with Ser Qarl.”

Rhaenys watched as Viserys took the piece of parchment. His eyes widened as he read. Then he looked to Rhaenyra, surrounded by her young children.

Rhaenys was certain that in time, Viserys would agree to Laenor Velaryon’s final request.

***

On a concealed beach of Blackwater Bay was a skiff. Two hooded figures approached the boat. The taller of the two helped the shorter one into the boat and pushed the boat into the lapping waters before jumping in himself.

They rowed to a lone galleon, thrown into sharp relief by the light of the moon.

The ship was bound for Essos. Its cargo included the last true born Velaryon son.

[maximons]

Lost And Found

Summary: It’s almost the big day, Wanda would soon be married to Vision, and her best friend Y/n would be right by her side. Everything was perfect. But what happens when Y/n goes missing?

Word Count: 6,019

Genre: Angst w/ Happy Ending

Requested?: Yes

Warnings: Mental breakdowns, mentions of deterioration, implied death

A/N: Hellooo! Here is the much requested Part 2 to Only The Best! I got carried away with this one and took it a little left, but I love it and I hope you guys do too. Also if you watch The Flash, I kinda stole a plotline...and if you don’t no I didn’t. Okay, Happy Reading!

1 | 2

Four Months Later

Wanda and Vision’s wedding was fast approaching, the date only about a month away, and the wedding plans were in full swing. They got their dream venue, she had her dream dress, everything was seemingly perfect. So why did Wanda feel so...weird?

She should be thrilled. She was marrying the man she loved, vowing to spend the rest of their lives by each others side. But instead of counting down the days in a good way, she’s been starting to dread it.

At first she chalked it up to pre-wedding jitters, but those usually happened at the last minute, right? Not starting pretty much the day after you got engaged. She couldn’t pinpoint why exactly she was feeling this way...all she knew was that you weren’t helping matters.

Don’t get her wrong, you’ve been an amazing maid of honor yes, of course she asked you, making sure everything went according to plan, and avoided any potential disasters before they happened. You’ve been her rock since the day she met you, and even more so now during one of the most important times in her life. The only problem she had with you...was your stupid relationship with Kara.

She had nothing against Kara as a person. You were unfortunately right, she was pretty cool and they got along well. She could also tell that you were happy with her, which is something she should be happy about but...wasn’t.

She knew she was being ridiculous. Maybe she didn’t wanna see her best friend be taken away from her? Yeah, that must be it. She didn’t want anyone to distract you from her. She wanted you to be by her side 24/7, with no one else except maybe Pietro gaining your attention.

And yeah, she knows that sounds incredibly selfish and toxic, but so what? It’s how she feels.

Wanda was currently hanging out in the lounge area of the compound, about to turn on the TV, hoping to drown herself in some sitcoms, when you sped in. Her hair blew with the breeze of your speed, but she didn’t even flinch, knowing it was you.

“Okay!” You started, as you looked down at the IPad in your hands. “So, I know the rehearsal dinner isn’t traditionally until the week of the wedding, but then I thought ‘who cares about traditional?’ Sooo I was thinking, what if we had it next week?” You finished your speech, plopping down on the couch next to the witch, who turned her head to look at you with wide eyes.

“Next week? That’s so soon, we don’t need more time to prepare?”

“Please, Wanda, when are you gonna learn to trust my awesome Maid of Honor skills?” Wanda chuckled at that. “A week is plenty of time. There’s this beautiful restaurant in the city. Upper East Side, not too far from the venue actually. Here.” You brought up the restaurants website and handed the pad to Wanda.

She began swiping through pictures, also taking a look at their menu. She was impressed with your find. It was beautiful, like you said, but also wasn’t too uppity or sophisticated, which she appreciated.

Because, as much as she loved Vis, he always had a more...finer taste. Something she could never keep up with.

“This is perfect, Y/n!”

“See? I told you!” You smiled as you took the pad back, standing up. “They’re pretty pricy, and there’s always a reservation list a mile long, but what good is having a Tony Stark around if we can’t use him for our gain?”

Wanda laughed, happiness filling her gaze at the thought of the dinner. “This is an amazing find, Y/n! Where’d you even hear of this place?”

“I took Kara there for her birthday last week. Had to make the reservation back in March, but it was worth is for sure!”

And there goes that happiness. 

Wanda’s gaze fell down to her lap for a moment, before she looked back up at you. That half smile that she got so used to having around you these last few months now planted on her face. “Who knew you were such a romantic?” 

“I know right?” You answered, not catching on to Wanda’s obvious change in mood. “So we’re set for it then?”

Wanda sighed, the idea of the restaurant now tainted with the knowledge of how you discovered it. Still, she couldn’t look you in the face and turn you down. Not when you’re wearing that annoyingly perfect dopey smile that you only got when you were excited. “Yeah, we’re set for it.”

“Yes!” You fist pumped, causing a small smile to appear on the witch’s face. “Alright, I’m gonna go talk to Tinman about it, then we can talk more details.” Before Wanda could respond you sped off.

She turned her attention back to the TV, slumping down on the couch. She pointed the remote back to the TV, intent on continuing her search, but paused.

“Ugh, now I need a drink.”

One Week Later

Everything was set in motion for the dinner. Everyone was invited, seating arrangements set, meals chosen. Another flawless stop on the ride to Wanda and Vision’s wedding.

Or it was, until you came to talk to her two days before.

“So you’re not gonna be there?” Wanda asked you, completely saddened by what you just told her.

“Trust me, I tried to get out of it.” You sighed, hating breaking bad news to Wanda. You never wanted to see her sad, especially not at your hands. “Steve is insistent though. Apparently HYDRA has been experimenting and trying to make more speedsters. Me and Piet are really the only ones who can handle it.”

“Why can’t Pietro just go?”

“Wandsss, you know that wouldn’t be right.” You teased, but Wanda wasn’t budging.

“Well then I’ll go with you!” She exclaimed happily, and you actually laughed at the suggestion, thinking she was joking. When she didn’t laugh, you realized she wasn’t.

“You can’t miss your own rehearsal dinner.” You put your hands on her shoulders, rubbing your thumbs gently in an effort to comfort her. She visibly relaxed at your touch. “Don’t worry, we’ll do our best to get it done quickly, but if we can’t, I told Nat everything she needs to know. She’ll take care of it.”

“But-”

“It’ll be okay, Wanda. Trust me. You won’t even notice I’m gone.” Wanda wanted to fight with you on that, her immediate thought being ‘I always notice when you’re gone’ You were her rock. You were with her every step of the way. She couldn’t do this without you.

She already felt as if she was losing you to Kara...she couldn’t bare not having you at the dinner. She just couldn’t. You were the most integral part of it to her.

She didn’t stop to wonder why she felt that way when it should be her fiancé that filled that role.

Before she could voice anything to you though, you both turned at the sound of Pietro’s voice.

“Alright, slowpoke. Wheels up in ten. You ready?” He walked in, dressed in his super suit, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “You aren’t even dressed yet?”

“It’ll take me like two seconds. I was just, oh I don’t know, telling your sister that we might not be at her rehearsal dinner.” You said sarcastically, causing the man to scratch the back of his neck.

“Yeah, sorry about that sestra. We’ll be at the wedding though, definitely!” Wanda acknowledged her brother with a nod, her attention turning back to you.

“You’re leaving right now?” She said, disappointment lacing her tone.

You gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, it was kind of a last minute thing.” You shrugged. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it. Just remember to have fun, okay? It’s gonna be great.” Wanda didn’t get the chance to respond before you gave her a sweet peck on the cheek and then running off, her brother not far behind you.

She lifted her hand to her cheek, feeling the ghost of your lips still on there.

“It’ll be great when you get back.”

Three Months Later

You didn’t come back.

Wanda still remembers the day of her rehearsal dinner, but not for the reasons one should. It would forever be burned into the back of her mind.

The night was going beautifully, everything Wanda could’ve dreamed of. You were right to trust Nat, she handled it like a pro. She was still missing your presence dearly, but she tried her best to push it to the back of her mind. She’s meant to be celebrating her relationship with Vis after all, what was she doing thinking of someone else?

Vision rose his glass he couldn’t drink but still had to play along, preparing to give the final toast of the evening. He never got the chance to speak up as loud commotion began to happen towards the entrance of the restaurant.

She recognized Pietro, from what she could see his suit was in taters, signaling a rough battle. He went to find Steve, spotting him quickly and sped over. There was hushed discussion between the two, her twin getting more and more hectic in his movements. Steve tried his best to calm him down, but she could tell he looked distraught as well.

It was then that she noticed. You weren’t with him.

She ignored the sinking feeling in her gut as much as she could, hoping she was wrong. That you would come through the doors only a second later. When you didn’t, Wanda stood.

“Pietro!” She shouted, causing the attention to fall on her. She didn’t care, focus entirely on her brother. “What’s going on?” She asked, more like demanded. The two men exchanged a glance, Steve nodding. Pietro turned to her, and she already knew by the look on his face.

“It’s Y/n...she’s...she vanished.”

Needless to say the night ended right after that.

Pietro later explained everything to them as best he could. They all knew your powers were an anomaly and different from his. While he obtained his speed from the mind stone, you were struck by lightning. Seemed simple enough, but your powers had progressed steadily, while Pietro remained at around the same speed for years.

HYDRA had been experimenting using what they called the ‘Speed Force’. Nobody really knew what it meant, but you had just learned that's how you got your powers. It was an interdimensional force that cracked through their reality, appearing in the form of the lightning bolt that struck you. You were connected to this force.

How HYDRA managed to learn of it, nevermind pull from it to use for experiments, no one knew.

The mission had been a trap, meant to lure you in to attempt to rip your speed from you to finish their tests. The lab rats had surrounded you both, overwhelming you quickly. What they didn’t account for however, was that having so many beings connected to this speed force using their speed at once would rip a whole in your dimension.

The only way to stop it was to close it in on itself. Sending all the people with the connection into that dimension.

That included you.

You sacrificed yourself to save the world. Wanda knew you didn’t hesitate to make that choice, that’s just who you were as a person. But she hated you for it. You left her behind, without so much as a goodbye.

Weeks went by and Wanda fell into a depression. She withdrew from everyone, including her fiancé. She was really struggling with this. Everyone was struggling, but not in the same way she was. She felt as though her heart had been ripped out.

With the wedding date rapidly approaching, Vision found it best to just postpone it until further notice.

Wanda knew Pietro had contacted Kara, informing her of the events and your disappearance. She couldn’t imagine what the girl was going through, but she couldn’t help but think it was worse for her. Yeah, you’ve been dating Kara for a few months now, but she’s known you for years. It didn’t compare.

She saw Kara come to your room in the compound to pick up her items. Her depressed features telling her everything she needed to know. She felt bad for making this a silent competition after that.

Bruce and Tony began researching the speed force as much as they could, even contacting Wakanda to see if Shuri knew of anything. It was a force that was outside mortal understanding, almost as if it were magic. Wanda had tried contacting Strange about it, but he didn’t know much of it either. It seemed hopeless.

Until one day Tony came into the compound living room with a weird looking gun. Something that looked like it was ripped from a Portal video game. Those were your favorite.

“We found a way we can get her back.” Tony had announced, and Wanda felt the most hopeful she had in years. Everyone followed the billionaire out into the outside training grounds, where there was more than enough room for this test. 

“Okay, so while we can’t access much about this place, what we learned from the HYDRA files suggests we can access it for short periods of time.” Bruce began.

“So, us big brains figured that if we can hone in on Y/n’s location somehow while accessing it, it should be able to be enough to find her and pull her out.” Tony continued.

“Thing is...we only have one shot.” Bruce finished. Wanda was ecstatic. You were coming home. This was gonna work, she knew it.

“What about the risks, doctor?” Vision piped up from beside her, causing her to glare up at her fiancé. Who cared about the risks? This is you we’re talking about.

Before she could speak up though, Tony did for her. “Everything has risks my young robo man. Family is worth it.” He began to prep the gun, but the android wasn’t finished yet.

“I understand that, sir, but my findings suggest that-” 

“Vis.” Wanda had enough and cut him off with a harsh tone. That was enough to get him to be quiet.

After a few more moments, the gun was ready to go. Tony was on the front lines, armor appearing on his body to protect himself. Everyone else was standing about ten feet back. “Alright kids, moment of truth. In three...two...” Tony fired the gun, a blue light shooting out, which led to a blue portal-esque whole opening in midair. Everyone stared at it, hoping to see you coming out of it, but nothing came.

Tony began to struggle with the ray, and he began to shout out. “We can’t keep this open forever! It’s becoming unstable!”

“Sir, I believe it would be best to shut it down!” Vision yelled over the commotion. Wanda didn’t even hesitate to counter him.

“No! Just give it a few more seconds!”

Vision turned to his fiancé with an incredulous look. “Darling, it’s becoming increasingly unstable! It’s not worth the risks!”

“Yes it is!” Wanda turned her attention back to the portal. “She’s more than worth it.” She said the last part quieter, but Vision still heard it.

Before they could continue their back and forth, a bright yellow burst of lightning zoomed out of the portal. It was so powerful that it blew all of them back slightly, causing Tony to release the trigger on the portal, closing it.

That didn’t seem to matter though, as everyone's attention landed on where the lightning blast led. There you were, standing about thirty feet away from them. Your suit looked to be destroyed, really only having enough to cover your private parts conveniently enough. You were glowing, and after affect of the lightning that you had just produced.

You picked your head up weakly, taking a look at the crowd of people in front of you. Wanda’s face lit up. You were back. You were really here.

However, before anyone got the chance to say anything, you passed out.

One Week Later

Much to everyone’s relief, you were very much alive and physically well. You woke up only a few hours after you had passed out.

But unfortunately, that was where the good news ended.

When you woke up, it was almost as if you were a blank slate. You were operating on complete autopilot, not talking or acknowledging anyone around you. It was scary if Wanda was being honest. It was even worse when she looked into your mind and saw...nothing.

You had always been a very expressive and vocal person. To see you become a literal shell of yourself was horrible.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

It was as if a light switch flipped in your brain, taking you from one extreme to the next. After about two days of you functioning like a zombie, you were all of a sudden thrusted into overdrive. You were speeding around the compound at a pace that no one had ever seen you move before, even when you were pushing it. You were mumbling to yourself constantly about nonsense no one understood, and you still didn’t acknowledge anyone in your presence. 

This time when Wanda looked into your head, your thoughts were going way too fast for her to be able to understand.

Pietro had tried to keep up with you several times to try and stop you, but it was no use. You had gotten faster than him over the years, but now it wasn’t even a competition. 

No one knew what to do.

Steve ended up getting lucky with a trick shot of his shield. It ricocheted off one of the walls and you just so happened to speed into its path, knocking you out.

This time, for your safety and everyone else’s, you were put in one of the compound’s secure cells until they could figure out how to fix you. The longer you had been like this, the less hopeful it seemed. Wanda was not at all a fan of the main theory that Bruce presented.

“The speed force seems to run outside of space and time as we know it. Given it’s nature, it’s not impossible to think that things move at a ridiculous pace there. Y/n was trapped in there for only three months to us, but for her...it could’ve been thousands of years. We could be looking at complete mental deterioration...She might be past the point of fixing.”

Wanda refused to give up hope. She didn’t give up hope that you’d return, and you did. So it only stands to reason that’ll you’ll become yourself again. You had to.

“Wanda?” The witch’s thoughts were interrupted by her fiancé, who phased into the room. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. She had no idea why, but Vision’s presence seems to be annoying her a lot these days.

“What’s up Vis?” She groaned as she sat up from the bed she was lying in. Your bed.

“I was wondering if we can chat for a moment.”

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice.” She sat up on the bed completely, patting the spot next to her haphazardly. The android took this as a sign, and sat beside her. The two sat in silence for a moment.

“I think it is obvious to both of us...that we were not the same as we once were.” Wanda looked up from her lap into her fiancé's eyes, surprised at what he was saying. She stayed silent. “I understand you are upset about Y/n, I am too, we all are.” There was the urge to roll her eyes again. “But...you’ve been pulling away from me exponentially. It’s almost as if we aren’t even friends at this point.”

“I’m sorry if it feels that way, Vis.” Wanda sighed. “I’m just very stressed right now. Y/n is my best friend...”

“And are you certain that’s all she is?” Wanda’s eyes widened at the question, but before she could say anything, Vision continued. “I know that you two were once...intimate-”

“That was one night almost two years ago. Before we even got together-”

“There is also the fact that you’ve gotten very upset any time Y/n mentioned her girlfriend.”

“I...I wasn’t upset, I just want the best for her-”

“Our wedding got postponed because of her disappearance-”

“Do you really think I’d get married while my best fucking friend was missing, Vision!?” Wanda was getting increasingly upset by this interrogation. Vision didn’t let this deter him though, as he delivered the final blow.

“You were also willing to let reality be ripped apart just so she’d return.” Wanda didn’t have an answer to this one. “That is not normal behavior for a best friend, Wanda. I think we both know that.”

She was stunned into silence as she mulled all of this over. “Um...”

“Guys!” Sam’s voice cut her off, and she silently thank him for it as she had nothing she could’ve said. “There’s a breakthrough with Y/n!” He ran down the hall, Wanda not even hesitating to follow. All thoughts from the conversation wiped from her brain, as her focus went entirely to you. Vision reluctantly followed behind.

When she made it to your holding cell, Bruce Nat and Tony were already surrounding it. She ran up to the glass to see you, still pacing around, this time at a normal human speed. The thing that was interesting though, was you were looking your teammates in the eye, something you haven’t done for as long as you’ve been awake.

“What’s going on?” She frantically asked, not tearing her eyes from you.

“She’s gaining awareness, which is definitely progress.” Bruce began. “The odd thing is, she seems to be going through some sort of trance. Whoever her focus is on she just remembers random past conversations she had with them.”

“As nostalgic as it is to hear what you first said to me, Speedy, a simple ‘hi’ would’ve sufficed.” Tony said as he stared at you as well. As weird as your behavior was, he was glad that you were starting to come back.

“What’s going on!?” Pietro’s voice was heard as he sped up to the group. “Is she back?”

Before anyone could answer, everyone noticed your attention turn to him. You smiled. “Let’s see what you got, wannabe.” The tone of your voice and what you said didn’t match. Pietro’s confusion became evident as he turned to look at Bruce.

“That’s what she said to me when we first fought each other... way back during Ultron.”

“Yeah, she’s reliving the greatest hits it looks like.” Natasha provided.

“Thanks for always having my back, Piet.” You started again, attention still on Pietro. “She’s happy, and that’s all that really matters.”

“Doctor, is there anyway to tell if this will fade? Progress into her living in the present?” Vision cut in, but before anyone could answer him, your attention was now on the android.

“Hey there, Robocop.” Everyone chuckled at the nickname, even Vision himself who had never been fond of it. “I don’t think that’s the right one. Too flashy.” Vision’s eyes widened slightly at the conversation you were remembering.

“Sir, I think we should-” He began to address Tony, but you still weren’t done.

“Keep it simple, okay? Don’t hire that string quartet, she’ll get overwhelmed. She always talked about how romantic the night was, how much she loves the stars.”

“What is she talking about?...” Wanda asked quietly as she heard you talk. She finally tore her gaze away from you and turned to her fiancé, face hardening slightly.

“I don’t-” Vision didn’t get the chance to finish before you cut him off.

“If she says yes, don’t let her go, okay? Wanda Maximoff is once in a lifetime.”

Wanda gasped as she pieced it all together. Vision’s proposal had been one of the best moments in their relationship, and it was really the only time where everything was just...perfect. It felt as though he knew her, he finally understood her. No moments like that have happened since, and she never really understood why his proposal was so different than his normal behaviors.

It’s because it wasn’t him...it was you.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me Y/n helped you with everything?” Wanda’s eyes began glowing red as she glared at the android, who had flinched slightly.

“I just...never thought it to be relevant.” That wasn’t entirely true. Vision knew. He knew how you felt about Wanda, and he had his suspicions that Wanda felt similar, even is she never admitted it to herself. If he revealed you helped him with something like that, he feared she would leave him and go running to you. So he took credit for it.

“You lying little-” 

“Hey, stranger.” Your voice cut Wanda off. She turned to look at you, and for the first time in months, you were looking back. Her red eyes dissipated as she walked closer to the glass separating you.

The smile you were giving her was different than the ones you gave the others. Softer, full of love and care. She doubted you were even aware of doing it, but the sight of that smile made her feel as though everything would be okay again.

“Y/n..” She whispered, almost as if she talked too loudly, you would disappear again.

“Someone’s got insomnia, huh?” Wanda chuckled as you recalled that night. It was one of the first conversations you had with her, you were both awake at 3 am. 

“You breaking up with me already?” Wanda sighed at that one. She couldn’t lie to herself and say that she hadn’t thought about that night several times over the last year or so. Even more so in the recent months. And now more than ever, she wondered if she made the right decision turning you down.

Everyone remained silent as you started going through more moments of your and Wanda’s relationship. 

“I’m happy for you, I really am.”

“Marriage is gonna look so good on you Maximoff, I know it.”

“Just remember to have fun, okay? It’s gonna be great.”

Wanda began to feel the tears escape her eyes and fall down her cheeks. She figured you were done as she remembered that was the last thing you had said to her. The last thing you said to her as yourself anyway. She took a deep breath and began to take a step back to ask Bruce a question, but you interrupted before she could.

“I don’t even know why I’m in love you, Maximoff. You’re a pain in my ass.”

Wanda’s eyebrows furrowed as she turned to look at you again. What you said had shocked her, but she was more concerned by the look you had on your face. Your sweet smile fell and you began to look distraught. Confused.

“Is that something she’s said to you before?” Bruce asked.

“No. No, never.” Wanda stared at you wide eyed at the confession, however you didn’t stop.

“Babe, don’t you think we should get some sleep? We got that big mission tomorrow.”

“The ring I picked out for Vision was always the ring I wanted to give you, but this one is definitely better...if you accept that is.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like Tommy better. Works both ways.”

You started going through these thoughts faster and faster, worry evident on everyone’s face.

“She...she might be saying things that haven’t happened yet.” Bruce concluded, astonished.

“So what, she can see the future now?” Tony asked. No one provided an answer as you kept going. The longer you went on, the harder it was to understand the words coming out of your mouth as you began to speak at superspeed. When you crouched over grabbing your head in pain, Wanda was finally snapped out of the trance you put her in.

“She’s in pain!” She panicked, watching your state getting worse. You fell to your knees briefly before getting up and speeding around your cell. “Help her!”

“Got it.” Nat said simply as she walked over to a control panel outside your cell door. “Sorry about this, Y/n.” She muttered as she hit a button. All of a sudden a screeching sound made its way to your ears. You stopped speeding and covered your ears, letting out a scream of pain. Only a moment later, you passed out again.

Everyone was too stunned to speak, the events that just happened incredibly hard to process. After a few moments of complete silence, the sound of heavy footsteps walking away caught their attention.

“Darling-”

“Not now, Vision. I need to think.” Wanda was out of the room before anyone else could utter a word.

Wanda cried herself to sleep that night in your bed.

Two Weeks Later

You showed no real progress since then. You had a few more similar episodes, but nothing new of note. Wanda was losing patience.

Wanda had broken up with Vision not too long after the scene at your cell. It surprised her how easy it was for her to do so, at most just feeling guilty for having to disappoint the wedding guests. She really should’ve known sooner, and she could only bring herself to wish that you were there with her. You’d help her find the clarity she needed. You were her rock for a reason. What happens when you lose that?

She knew you were in there, she did. She just needed to get you to come out.

She was laying in bed, mulling the events from the last few months over in her head. She sat up suddenly as she made a spur of the moment decision.

Fuck it

She stood up and made her way through the compound. Only one destination in mind.

She arrived outside of your cell. You were sitting on the ground in the corner, cross-legged, gaze unfocused. She paid your state no mind as she marched over to the control panel. She typed in a code and the glass wall lifted temporarily, giving her enough time to slip in before closing behind her. She stared at you for a moment, struggling to think of where to start. 

“You’re such a fucking idiot.” Guess that’s what she’s going with.

Your gaze lifted from the ground, your attention now on her. You remained silent at the statement, so she continued. “You managed to get yourself trapped in some...weird super speed prison. Right before my wedding too? What the fuck is wrong with you Y/n!? Oh! And don’t even get me started on you helping him out with his perfect proposal! Were neither one of you ever gonna tell me about that!? That’s so unfair!” 

Wanda’s tone got progressively angrier, finally letting out everything she’s been holding in for so long. “I-I- I can’t fucking believe you’re so...so fucking selfish! You saved the world and all, fucking fantastic, but what about me!? What about me Y/n!? And yeah, I know that’s really what’s fucking selfish but I don’t care, cause you left me!” 

She finished her rant, panting. She stared at you, your gaze still unmoving. She let out a harsh breath. “And look at you...you’re just this shell of yourself...and it’s been so fucking heartbreaking to see.” She let out a sigh, emotions finally catching up to her. “I miss you Y/n...I miss you so much...If I’m being completely honest, I’ve missed you since before you disappeared.” She admitted that for the first time out loud, and it suddenly made everything else so much clearer.

Your gaze remained unchanging. She sat down on the floor in front of you, and sighed. “Things haven’t been the same with us for a very long time...ever since I started seeing Vision. I see that now... I shouldn’t have turned you down. I never wanted to admit it to myself, but I always ask myself ‘what if?’. I shouldn’t be doing that if I’m marrying someone else, right?...and Kara. I could never figure out why I never really liked her. She’s really nice and sweet and you guys were really good together. She checked off all the boxes, but it never felt right...and I think I finally know why now...”

She looked back up into your eyes. Your expression hasn’t changed, but your gaze was more focused now as you looked straight into her eyes. She wasn’t sure if you were aware of what she was saying or not, but seeing you lock eyes with her gave her all the confidence she needed.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n.” Tears began pooling in her eyes. This was the first time she’s fully admitted that, and she just wants to kick herself for not doing it sooner because damn, it felt so right. You felt so right. 

“God, I love you so fucking much.” Without thinking, she grabbed your face and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. The kiss had only lasted a moment before she realized what she was doing. She went to pull away from you, horrified at her own actions, but before she could, she felt your hand slowly come up the back of her neck.

You started to kiss her back.

This time, instead of pulling away in shame, she pulled away in shock. She looked into your eyes, and it was the first sign of real emotion you’ve shown the whole time you’ve been back. She saw nothing but love in your eyes. You gave her a small smile, but it was enough to light up her world.

Before she could say anything though, you were suddenly gone. Speeding out of the room, leaving a huge burst of lightning behind, shattering the glass on your way out. The force was enough to blow Wanda back, landing harshly on the opposite wall before falling to the ground. She looked up with wide eyes as she processed everything that happened.

“Shit.” She got up and moved to the control panel,  going to hit the emergency button. Before she could though, you were suddenly back in front of her. You looked completely different. Your hair was fixed, you put on a normal outfit that wasn’t the prison one you were provided with, but most importantly...you looked like you again.

“Sorry for that, I just wanted to look better when I could finally do the thing I’ve wanted to do for years.” Wanda couldn’t get a word out, stunned into silence. She didn’t need to speak though, because not even a moment later, you walked up to her, grabbed her face gently and kissed her. She didn’t even hesitate to fall back into the kiss. Yeah, this was definitely right.

After a few moments, you two separated. Large smiles planted on your faces as you leaned your foreheads together. Wanda was the first to speak. “Since when can you move that fast?” She breathed out.

You shrugged. “I guess being stuck in a super speed prison helped with my super speed. Huh, who’d have thought.” Wanda smacked your arm at the joke, but was overall beyond relieved. “I just needed that ‘true love’s kiss’ to get me back.”

“Of course you did.” Wanda laughed, leaning into you again, “You’re such a cliché.”

“You love it though.”

“I love you.”

You smiled, a brighter smile than Wanda had ever seen you wear. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that. I love you too, Wanda. I’ll love you till the day I die.” You leaned in for another kiss, this one somehow better than the last.

There was a lot you two needed to talk about, as well as make sure everything was okay with you physically, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about all that at the moment.

You were lost for so long, even before the speed and mental prisons you were trapped in. Finally being in the arms of the woman you loved was everything.

You were finally found.

[shirakumos-sandwich-shop]

Shoto, Arranged Marriage Au Pt.5

Masterlist

Shoto x Reader Part 5 (5/5)

Age: 19

"Oh my GOSH Y/N!!" Fuyumi practically screamed in your face, making you shrink back in fear.

"Does it look really bad?!" You frantically questioned her, looking down at the lacey, white dress that adorned your frame. "Y/N, you're obviously drop dead gorgeous. Shoto is a very lucky man."

The butterflies in your stomach almost exploded out of you at Fuyumi's comment, carefully turning to see yourself in the mirror with the help of your trusty maid of honor.

"This is going to be the best wedding ever for sure, AHHHH I'M SO EXCITED!" Fuyumi went off in another tirade of squeals and giggles. You shakenly joined her, trying to ignore the nerves building. Who would have thought 4 years after this entire arrangement started, you would actually be marrying someone who loved you. Well….you assumed Shoto loved you. He had never said it to you out loud, but his actions had clearly been communicating he loved you.

...so why were you so damn nervous?

**Meanwhile**

"Well you damn nerd, you ready to get married or whatever?" Bakugo barked over at Shoto who was attaching his cufflink to his sleeve.

"Obviously so, otherwise I wouldn't be going through with it." Shoto calmly replied, no longer phased by Bakugos outbursts. The same couldn't be said for Midoriya, who was cautiously standing near Bakugo, trying to encourage some lighter conversation. "Kacchan, maybe don't call the groom a damn nerd on his wedding day?" He squeaked out, making Bakugo set off firecrackers in his palm, "I'll call him whatever I want, if he's offended by the way I talk he wouldn't have asked me to be in his damn wedding, idiot Deku."

Midoriya nodded along before turning and seeing Shoto's silent form, well, more silent than usual. "Are you okay Todoroki?"

Shoto nodded slowly, looking around like he was confused. "Yes, just nervous is all." He tried to reassure his groomsmen but Bakugo wasn't buying it.

"Hey. What's wrong with you huh? You can't be nervous, you just said you loved her and you're not nervous." The angry man paused at the surprised look the groom was sporting. "What the hell?"

"I haven't told her I love her." Shoto practically whispered, the sudden realization blowing his mind.

"Whoa what? Haven't you been together almost 5 years?" Midoriya questioned, his mind working a mile a minute to understand the news.

"Only an Extra like you would come this far and not have the guts to tell your woman you love her." Bakugo scoffed, quickly shoving the groom out of the room, effectively causing Midoriya to panic even more.

"Kacchan stop it! What are you doing?!" "I'm taking him to his woman, he needs to tell her before they get married you damn nerds. It's basic relationship etiquette."

****

You were adjusting your veil when a harsh knock echoed from the door, making you turn in confusion. "Hel-" You went to speak but were interrupted when the door was kicked open by none other than Bakugo. "Bakugo, what are you doing here? Is Shoto okay?" The groomsman scoffed slightly at your question before reaching forward and snatching your hand. You squealed out in surprise as Bakugo dragged you over to the door, stopped right at the doorway before he turned to you. "Alright IcyHot, she's right here."

A familiar hand stuck out from the other side of the door, making Bakugo shove your hand forward while also positioning your back against the wall. "Bad luck to see each other." He commented before swiftly walking out of the room. "Hurry up IcyHot we don't have all day." 

"Shoto? What's going on?" You questioned, incredibly confused with the entire situation.

"I realized something." He sounded nervous, which made your nerves kick into hyper gear. 'He's not ready' Your anxiety taunted you. "I've never…..told you. How I feel." He continued, a slight squeeze of your hand told you he knew what you were thinking, and that you needed to just stop thinking and listen.

"I love you. Which I obviously wouldn't be marrying you if I felt any different. But I wanted to say it before we go out there. You deserve that." His voice trembled, and you moved to walk through the doorway.

"No! I want to see you on the aisle, the way we planned." He quickly reassured you. "Shoto Todoroki, you are truly one of a kind. I love you too. Now leave before I walk through the doorway and ruin our plans." You tried to laugh off your own tears, which did not work.

With one more squeeze of the hand, Shoto left to go back to his room with his party. Meanwhile, you confidently finished getting ready, no longer feelings the nerves from before.

Tag list:

@shoutocakie

[write-like-wright]

Should you date them: Ace Attorney rival prosecutor edition

Miles Edgeworth:

depends on what Edgeworth we're talking about

absolutely do NOT date Bratworth

disrespects women

doesn't realise short people have feelings

wears that gaudy af jacket

doesn't want to date you anyways, is in a committed relationship with the law, baby

original trilogy Edgeworth is a bit harder to gauge

very emotionally constipated

generally awkward to be around

expect many unintentional staring contests

simultaneously cocky and insecure

this is the kind of a relationship you enter thinking you can "fix" him

spoiler: you can't

his fashion sense is getting better though

gotta be really buff if he walks up all those stairs to his office

you'd have to compete with a ton of other women and who wants to deal with Wendy Oldbag? scary stuff

he's probably still not all that interested in dating but is also starting to warm up to general human contact lmao

attempt to date at your own risk, though I'd advise against it (maybe casually drop hints you're a Steel Samurai fan? idk)

Chief prosecutor Edgeworth though? HELL YES, BABEY

that man has matured and gotten himself some therapy

can actually recognize human emotions!!

that new coat and the glasses?? mwah chef's kiss

a (childless) DILF

less subtle in his weebdom and who doesn't love a confident man

has lots of cool friends who'd like you

still a bit aloof so have patience

but hell yes, date, hell MARRY him idc

Franziska von Karma

Franzy is a baby but won't ever admit it

somehow even more emotionally constipated than her "little" brother

do you like strong, mean women? me too, bro

if someone is mean to you she will wreck them

absolutely walks up to the counter at McDonald's like "excuse me, you fool, they asked for no pickles"

needs gentle reminders to be polite to people

would call you by your full name all the time and it's probably more than a little weird

boy do I have good news for you if you're into BDSM

pretends not to care - cares a lot

date but also, like, go to couples counselling for a bit

Diego Armando/Godot

Diego is hot and he knows it

very, VERY cocky

like, kind of a douche but his heart is generally in the right place

tries to be macho

expect lots and lots of coffee dates... like, five a day lol

would always have coffee ready for you in the morning... afternoon... evening... 3 am... whenever you'd like it, basically

calls you kitten

calls everyone kitten though

calls Edgeworth kitten kinda hot ngl

probably kinda overprotective

very supportive, though

a bit of a himbo

probably never sleeps

date if you like hot douchey guys basically

Godot really is the ungodly cool guy with a mask

daft punk enthusiast

has many, many weird rules

more douchey than ever

would kill for you

ngl he kinda creeps me out, I wouldn't recommend it

Klavier Gavin

yes, you should date Klavier

not even a question

a literal rock star

such a nice boy

kinda questionable fashion, but he makes it work somehow

eurotrash

be ready to deal with the fangirls

would be worth it in the end

hot af

would write songs for/about you

he's probably the smoothest bitch alive

would take you on trips all the time

he's loaded, expect fancy gifts

probably spends too much time on Instagram, tho

Simon Blackquill

baby Blackquill is 100% boyfriend material

what a nice young man

weeb deep respect for the Japanese culture

honorable intentions

would treat you so well

breaks up with you without an explanation one day and disappears for like, 10 years

AA5 and onwards Blackquill is... an interesting one

listens almost exclusively to traditional Japanese music and My Chemical Romance

probably has a hard time adjusting to life outside

needs lots and lots of therapy

kinda scary at times

would probably need discipline and rules in his day to day life after everything

like, set his bedtime or something

can be a jerk and tease you affectionately

can also be a jerk in general, please tell him off, he's scaring the wendy's drive-through employee

go bird watching with him

I would date him but I understand why you wouldn't

he's hot

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi

gorgeous, dahling

a literal disney prince

tries to impress you with his knowledge of your culture and it's both endearing and embarrassing

what's crackalackin homies = how do you do fellow kids

massive foodie

kinda ranty tho

can go for 8 hours straight

unfortunately, i'm talking about sermons

can be pretty insensitive at times

spends a lot of time with his partnered detective, kinda sus

at the very least date him to steal his haircare products

Barok van Zieks

what a scandalous man

have you seen those curves

more breast and thigh than a bucket of kfc

built like an avenger

very hot

probably unaware of it, though

what are emotions

family man

spends too much on "wine"

you suspect he may be a vampire

incredibly meticulous

condescending

openly racist

like, date him after years of therapy and several racial/cultural sensitivity workshops or something

in the meantime flash him your ankle to test the waters if you're feeling extra saucy

Bonus: Kazuma Asogi

*smacks him* this bad boy can fit so much emotional trauma inside

literally good at everything

stumbles over his words at times, though

hypes you up so much for the lamest of reasons

confident boy

so hot-headed

goes from 0 to 100 and back in a matter of seconds

very honorable

do NOT doubt his ability to get you off or he'll make you choke on it

cute laugh

if you say you wouldn't date him you're lying to yourself and even worse you're lying to me i'm so sorry for looking at your boyfriend ryuu

[glowingbadger]

The Sylvain and Dimitri arranged marriage stuff made me think of a claude version of it. Maybe an AU where Claude never came to fodlan and reader has to marry the prince/king of Almyra to improve countries relationships. Anyway seriously love your stuff thank you so much for the content!!

Oh hoo Anon, this is a wonderful take on the concept. Let's see what I can whip up for us~

((side note I feel like we never learn whether Almyra speaks a different language from Fodlan?? But being multi-lingual is sexy so idgaf))

((And also I used Bengali for Almyran because I have Bengali family and the language is so beautiful even though the english alphabet phonetic spellings are weird af))

Claude x Reader - Arranged Marriage

NSFW 18+ (like only towards the end tho idk)

Overall, you do what you can to stay out of the way. You'd been sent to Almyra as a symbol- a token, more than anything else. Now that you were in King Khalid's possession, very few throughout the castle paid you any particular mind. You were provided for, of course. Anything you cared to ask for was given. But you didn't speak a word of the Almyran language, and those who bothered to use what they knew of Fodlan's to communicate with you seemed to view you as a pet to be kept safe and healthy, and little else.

By week's end, there was to be a lavish banquet in honor of your union with the King- though of course, your input on the proceedings is entirely unwanted. In some ways, Almyra is quite similar to Fodlan. Court life is much the same. As you wander through the royal gardens, wondering at a range of colorful and exotic flowers you'd never heard of, let alone seen, a voice speaks smoothly behind you.

"Did you know you can actually eat the petals of this particular flower? They're very sweet."

You whirl around and nearly bump into King Khalid. You're about to stammer out an apology, but he reaches out and plucks a single white petal and holds it before your lips.

"Go on, I think you'll like it."

Whatever possesses you to eat a flower petal from this man's hand is something you'd rather leave unexamined for the time being- but he is right about the flavor. It's sweet, but not overly so, and quite pleasant.

"Hm! Yeah, it's nice," you say, then glance up at him as another thought occurs to you that you'd considered once or twice before, "You speak the language of Fodlan very well, my Lord."

"I'm flattered," he says with a disarmingly handsome smile, "and please, just Khalid. I don't think I could bear to have my own wife stand on such formality with me."

He says it so naturally, as if you'd been planning this union for years. Though, once again, he's right. This is only perhaps the dozenth time you've exchanged words, but you are wed, and you ought to get used to addressing him as your husband.

"Khalid..." you say tentatively, "Did- did you need something from me? I hope I wasn't too much trouble to find."

"Not when you find such pleasant places to hide," he replies, still wearing that easy smile, "but to be honest, I was actually hoping you'd accompany me for the day. I can finally afford to take a bit of time away from the castle, and I think you and I both would appreciate some space to breathe. What do you say?"

Correct once again. You nod, and take the arm he offers you. As he leads you out from the gardens, he points out a few more plants native to your new homeland. They're incredibly varied, each more strange and vibrant than the last. All the while, he's somehow made you feel as though you're chatting with an old friend. You leave the gardens and wander towards the area you vaguely recall to be designated for horse stables and wyvern stalls.

From there, a few things happen in sequence. Khalid asks if you're afraid of flying. He asks if you trust him to hold on to you. He helps you up onto the saddle that seems impossibly high up on its own right, and then, you're propelled into the air with a force your body has never felt before. You tense and shrink back against his chest, clinging to whatever part of the saddle you can find purchase on for dear life. Up here, it's difficult to pick up, but you feel your husband laugh behind you, then his strong arm wrap around your waist.

"Relax, I won't let anything happen to you," he says against your ear, his voice sure and steady, "I've got you."

And it takes a few miles of flying and a lot of Khalid distracting you by pointing out different buildings and shops along the streets below, but eventually, you do manage to relax- at least a little.

The castle town is positively buzzing with activity. Even from your distance in the sky above, you can see clusters of people moving around each other like fish up stream, and even hear the faint echoes of a merchant advertising goods.

"It doesn't seem at all like the Almyra we're taught about in Fodlan."

"Oh, it is," Khalid assures you with a bemused chuckle, "But it's also much more. I imagine it's the same for your people. There's a lot we can learn from one another, I think."

By the time the sun is high in the sky, you've passed the most densely settled part of town and are gliding over farmland and the occasional pocket of forest and rivers that split and cross through the earth like veins. Though, the warmer climate of Almyra will still take some getting used to, and it seems your husband considers this.

"Let's land for a bit and find some shade,"

You nod, and he directs his wyvern to begin a slow descent.

The King had thought of everything for this little day-trip, it seemed. Having evidently packed everything you'd need in the saddlebags on his steed, you now recline beside him on a plush blanket in a clearing amidst the trees. A small brook bubbles down from stone to stone in small waterfalls beside you, and the air feels positively alive with birdsong and rustling leaves, all foreign to you and all part of your new home. And so is he, you think as you glance over at the handsome figure of your husband beside you.

You'd been sitting in a comfortable quiet, munching on a couple of very dense pastries which Khalid had told you incorporated an extract of the flower you'd sampled earlier. He gives a satisfied sigh as he finishes his first and lies back on the blanket, taking in and savoring a deep breath. As you finish the last bites of your own treat, you reflect on the day thus far. You'd learned much about the locals and their daily lives by observation and Khalid's description in such a short time, and he'd even taught you a hand full of basic words and phrases in Almyran.

"Uhm, Khalid?"

He opens one eye and gives you a sideways glance.

"It was... dhonnobad, right? Thank you?"

His smile his open and warm, his eyes practically shimmering in the reflected sunlight from the nearby brook.

"Well, we'll have to work on your pronunciation, but I'm impressed you remembered," he beckons you down onto the blanket beside him, and you follow, lying on your side as he turns towards you. You're closer than you'd anticipated, even given the limited realestate of the blanket, and you internally scold yourself for being shy about something so silly- like some naive adolescent.

"Let's try a couple more words, since you've been such a diligent student."

"Okay," you say with a smile, "try me, I'll do my best."

"Hmm..." he looks around your private clearing, then gestures towards the brook and says, "Jala"

"Jala," you repeat slowly. He nods,

"Right- that's 'water'. And, uhm..." he points toward a patch of wildflowers at the edge of the brook, "Phula. That's 'flower'."

Again, you repeat as best you can, and though you know your pronunciation must be off, he's encouraging nonetheless. Then, he leans in towards you, and brings his free hand to your cheek, his fingertips brushing your skin lightly.

"Now try sundara."

"... Sundara?" you make an attempt, and you're sure you got something about that 's' sound mixed up, but Khalid just gives you a slanted smile. He doesn't clarify at first, so you ask, "What does that one mean?"

His fingers slowly weave back into your hair, and his voice is low and soothing as he replies,

"That means 'beautiful'."

Your face warms immediately, but you hardly have a moment to feel bashful about it before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you slow and deep. His movements are effortlessly sensual, pulling you towards him and sending your pulse pounding through your veins. You part your lips to him almost instinctively, and the way he uses his tongue is sparing, but oh-so effective. When he finally pulls away, your head is spinning and it's all you can do to meet his gaze.

"So... that's how they kiss in Almyra." you say, barely above a whisper. Khalid smirks and turns you onto your back, sliding an arm around your waist.

"Oh, no- there's no tradition in this, only skill."

Goddess- if they'd warned you of the King's supernatural charms, you wouldn't have believed them. But now his lips are on yours once again, and he's holding your body to his, and you can't think of anything else. Your arms drape across his shoulders, and faster than you can track, your bodies have met in a tangled, impassioned embrace. It was hard to imagine that mere kissing could feel so erotic, but something about his pace, about how his lips and hands move in tandem, about how thorough he is in exploring you, makes you feel like it would be only natural to give yourself over to him completely.

His kiss travels along your jawline up to the shell of your ear, where he nips briefly, then murmurs,

"I was hoping to apologize for how little time we've had to get to know each other before today," you bite at your bottom lip as his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, "if that would be pleasing to you, my dearest wife."

"Ye- yes..." you sigh into the open air as his lips reach your neck. The single word is all either of you need. He never stops pressing lavish kisses to your lips and neck as he pulls your clothing out of his way. By the time he's satisfied, your clothes are draped off your arms and pooling around you on the blanket- and he doesn't seem to care to remove them entirely. He has a goal in mind.

Slowly, painstakingly, he makes his way down your body. You feel him everywhere- hands tracing and memorizing your frame, breath hot across your skin as his lips spoil you with adoring kisses. Soon enough, he's kissed his way to your lower stomach, and he urges your thighs apart beneath him. You suppress the instinctive wave of embarrassment at being exposed to him for the first time- he is your husband and your King, afterall- but then, his head dips down towards your plump lower lips, and your mind goes white.

"Khalid-!" you gasp out as his tongue trails coyly up the crease of your folds. He hums contentedly, and places a disarmingly chaste kiss to the soft skin. Then, his thumbs gently spread you open for him, and your entire body burns while he takes a moment to merely admire you- your pretty little hole already wet, your clit already hard and flushed dark. When his head lowers once more, his green eyes meet yours steadily, as though to promise without words to be good to you.

And in a moment, his mouth begins to gently tease your clit, and your head tilts back on the blanket. Your hips jerk just a bit with each pass of his tongue across the sensitive bundle, and occasionally you can't hold in a gasp or whimper of pleasure. This only encourages him, of course. The more you moan and sigh, the more dedicated he becomes to your body. He presses himself more firmly to you, his lips surrounding your clit and the surrounding tender flesh, and he suckles on you, licks you, kisses you. You don't know when it happened, but your hands are at the back of his head, fists tangled in thick brown hair as he diligently works.

The unbearable tension is winding tight and anxious in your lower body- you know he'll drive you to climax before long, and the mere thought feels like falling in love. And then Khalid moves lower, and his tongue dips inside of your entrance. You gasp and unwittingly tug on his hair- but he certainly doesn't seem to mind. With a lustful groan, he presses more firmly to you, truly buried against your body as his dexterous tongue curls upward, stroking the vulnerable spot behind the nerves of your clit.

"Khalid!" this time it's nearly a scream, and you're grateful that your voice is lost in the surrounding foliage. Your thighs begin to shake, and your hands release him to instead clutch the blanket behind you. And at last, with a whimper in a voice you hardly recognize, your lower body floods with soaked warmth as your orgasm sweeps through you. Panting, twitching, you moan out for your husband over and over, until finally, the wave begins to subside, and Khalid pulls away to position himself above you on all fours.

"That's a nice expression..." he says with a grin, directing you to look at him with a hand at your chin, "I hope I'll get to see it often."

When your eyes finally refocus, you look up at him somewhat apologetically,

"I should... attend to you."

He laughs and kisses your forehead,

"There will be time for that tonight, don't you think? Once we're a bit more... put together," he says with a glance at your bare form, "we should head back to our ride. I'll bring you back to the castle, and we'll get the cooks to prepare something very 'Almyran' for you."

You nod- it probably wouldn't do for the first time with your Lord Husband to be mid-day in the woods. Though he'd certainly failed to make it seem unappealing.

"And then," he goes on, bringing a finger to trace the curve of your bottom lip, "Well, maybe we'll excuse ourselves to our bedchamber a bit early this evening, and we can continue this little... cultural exchange."

[iheartbookbran]

Ok so actually my biggest problem with the whole “Daenerys will burn KL” theory—not even the Mad Queen Dany theory, which is of course very sexist for obvious reasons, but just like, the idea that Dany will ~accidentally~ ignite the wildfire in the city, burning it all to the ground. That, at first, doesn’t sound that bad, but the longer I think about it the more I hate it because tbh it doesn’t do anything for her character? And also… that fate for her is just down right cruel.

Like, the most frequent argument I see on why this would be at all satisfactory for Dany’s arc is basically that it would be a sort of lesson for her about the dangers of unchecked power and the real threat the Dragons can pose on humans and that she shouldn’t use them to fight against other people. And that’s all well and good, excellent message… except that’s not something Dany’s ever really needed to learn? Not anymore that her fellow rulers, which I will touch on more detail later, but in general Dany has seen what the abuse of power can do. Starting with her conflicting feelings regarding Viserys and how she recognizes that even though he was her brother and she loved him, he also abused his power over her as her older brother, her only family and her king; she feels guilt about the atrocities Drogo committed to the lhazarene and tries to help them; she feels so much guilt about not handling things correctly in Astapor that she decides to throw away all her plans to go to Westeros and instead stays in Meereen.

And about not knowing the true danger that her dragons can pose? I mean, this is the same girl that literally agonizes across several of her ADWD chapters because Drogon killed a child, and then takes the extreme measure of caging Rhaegal and Viserion to prevent that from ever happening again. I think she’s at least a little bit aware that the dragons can be dangerous, thank you very much.

Ok so this got long...

Anyways, the only time Dany legit uses Drogon to harm someone and not just as bluff was at the house of the Undying, where she was being attacked, and in Astapor… and like, lmao, that asshole Kraznys mo Nakloz and the rest of his slaver buddies deserved it. Don’t at me. Also, Dany’s hardly the only one with a big magical and deadly beast at her disposal, why didn’t Robb had to go through some horrifying traumatic incident to learn he shouldn’t use Grey Wind in battle to tear his enemies’ throats. Bran will be learning about the dangers of abusing power, but that’s linked to his magic powers and an actual reprehensible thing he’s doing, not the use of his glorified prehistoric dog to kill, which he’s done, just like Robb. By all means let the narrative hold Dany accountable for her mistakes… but her actual mistakes and not shit she has no control over, because she doesn’t have much control over Drogon or the other dragons even though she’s trying to, and that’s very obvious in her last ADWD chapter where she’s delirious and Drogon could kill her at any moment, and she knows that.

The other big argument people make for Dany burning KL (even if it’s by accident!) is that it will teach her about the price of war, that someone as young as her shouldn’t be leading armies and conquering kingdoms, and that fighting for the Iron Throne is not a worthy cause, and I feel like that misses the actual point of her story by a mile. First of all because a) Dany is hardly the only teenage ruler in the story and b) this is a fantasy medieval story, a lot of the characters shouldn’t be doing the things they do, aaaand yet. Also speaking of other teenage rulers with far more power that they should have—Robb and Jon, being the biggest examples.

Granted, Robb and Jon aren’t exactly successful during their time as rulers, they’re literally betrayed and killed by their own men (even if Jon will technically come back for round 2 of bullshit he’s too tired for). But the moral of their stories is not that they lost because theirs was an unworthy cause and they were stupid kids wholly unprepared for their roles. And I actually partially agree! They are just kids, including Dany, and they shouldn’t be responsible for looking after so many others and going to battle, but their cause is still just and worthy, even with all the mistakes they make along the way. Robb didn’t loose because he was wrong in demanding justice for his family or trying to protect the riverlands from the Lannisters and their minions, he lost because Tywin Lannister was a giant coward who couldn’t take him out in a fair fight.

Likewise, it isn’t wrong of Jon to try to incorporate refugees from beyond the Wall into Westeros. He’s not too stupid and honorable to do politics like his father (how I hate when people insult Jon and Ned like that), and while he did some very obvious mistakes that inevitably ended in a coup and in him dying, this is more connected to his inability to let go of his ties with his family (mainly Arya or who he believes to be her), and in isolating himself from his friends and the people he could actually trust.

I’ve always thought that Dany and Jon share a parallel narrative within the story, so while Jon is struggling with that Dany is faced with similar problems. She cages her dragons, that to her represent the only family she has left, and she tries to compromise with the slavers, marry a man she doesn’t love, pretend she’s ok with reopening the fighting pit. While she tries her best to rule wisely in Meereen, it all comes at the cost of betraying herself and her beliefs, so it’s no surprise when it all crashes around her and she’s betrayed and nearly killed. Ironically, it is Drogon who comes to rescue her.

If they are monsters, so am I.—Daenerys II, ADWD.

This is hands down one of my favorite Dany quotes from the whole series, and I hate that it’s been given such a negative connotation in the fandom, when for me it represents Dany’s humanity and compassion at the fullest.

GRRM has a knack for humanizing the ‘monsters’ of his story, for showing the good in the outcasts and the ugly and the scary. He embraces their ‘otherness’ and makes them the heroes of his stories; Arya, Bran, Brienne, Dany, Tyrion, Jon, Theon and many others are all compared to monsters or beasts at one point or another in the books.

Dany sees herself in her dragons, literal monsters in every sense of the word. Later on she faces Drogon inside the pit, and in that moment you could say that she accepts that ‘monstrous’ part of her, and in doing so she’s saved from her fate of dying at the hands of the men who would crucify innocent children and gleefully profit off of the suffering of their fellow human beings while watching them fight each other to the death for their own amusement. Now tell me who’s the real monster in this situation.

But shortly before that happens, Dany is able to see the humanity in Tyrion, an outcast who has been branded as monstrous and unlovable due to his disability all his life, a man who has come to believe in his abusers’ rhetoric about him so strongly that he’s started to act cruel and detached. She saves his life. She sees value in his life when few others would, because she cares.

I’ve always find it funny that the “dragons plant no trees” is—another—example fans use to argue in favor of Dany’s descent into Darkness™ because the actual scene goes like this:

You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros.

"It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl."

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.—Daenerys X, ADWD.

Now am I the only one who finds it at least a bit relevant that it’s freaking Jorah Mormont aka Jorah the Enslaver whom Dany’s subconscious, at her literal lowest moment, utilizes to represent this particular thought, which btw I’ve always interpreted as Dany’s own self-loathing manifesting in her, and this is something she’s actually always struggled with—the idea that she’s not enough and she’s failing. Because above all things, even Westeros or the Iron Throne, what Dany wants is peace, she wants to plant trees.

When Dany made her descent, Reznak and Skahaz dropped to their knees. "Your Worship shines so brightly, you will blind every man who dares to look upon you," said Reznak. […] This match will save our city, you will see."

"So we pray. I want to plant my olive trees and see them fruit." Does it matter that Hizdahr's kisses do not please me? Peace will please me. Am I a queen or just a woman?—Daenerys VII, ADWD.

But of course the world doesn’t work like that, and so long as there’s Jorahs and Tywins and Eurons out there, men who would take the freedom of humans and submit them to their will, Dany can’t have the luxury of peace, just like Jon can’t have the luxury of belonging and family so long as there’s people still beyond the Wall who need his protection.

And I think that’s fine. It’s fine that Dany failed, it will help her develop as a character and realize that there’s no room to compromise with slavers, the metaphorical monsters of the story who do far more harm than the other more literal ‘monsters’ of the story. So that when she has to face down Euron Greyjoy—who btw, there’s a high chance he will end up stealing one of Dany’s dragons via Victarion using Dragonbinder… y’know, as in enslaving one of her children and using said dragon to inflict god knows what horrors, yet not many people ever consider this for some reason?—she will know. When she has to face down the Others, the magical ice fairies with no regard for human life, she will know.

That’s why I believe that it would make absolutely no sense for Dany to have to go through such a tragic and traumatic experience like burning a whole city even by pure accident, over something that’s either never been a problem with her character or she’s well into her way of learning anyways, so it would just feel repetitive. As I have pointed out, she’s already reached one of the lowest moments of her arc. Not saying there will be no other blows for her, and probably the destruction of KL will be one of them, and knowing Dany she will feel responsibility over it no matter what, but that doesn’t mean she has to be the culprit, intentional or otherwise.

[kpop-hive]

It Started In Italy

Osaki Shotaro x Reader, Romeo and Juliet based AU.

Warnings ⚠️: Language, Violence, Graphic Scenes, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Marking, Slight Praise, Slight Cockwarming, Mentions of blood, nausea, vomiting, arranged marriage and pregnancy.

I have arranged for this dialogue to be written Shakespearean language. Sorry if some of the dialogue is confusing I tried my best. 😊

Word Count: 10.4k Oops 🤭

Act I

Scene i

8:42 a.m. The sun kissed your skin as you awoke from your slumber. The white bedsheets spread across your skin smoothly as you rolled over, looking towards your bedroom door, there lay your big black suitcase packed and ready for placement in the car along with the silk dress you were ready to wear for the long flight to the Almafi Coast. You’ve always wanted to see Italy. Your father never took you and your mother with him when he went there for business. You’ve dreamt of going to Italy since you were litte, you always heard of stories about the food, clothes, structure and beautiful people. You’ve always thought about what you could find in Italy, your future, estates, love, your possibilities were endless. Now, the dream you’ve dreamt up for so long is finally coming true.

“(Y/n)! Why is my daughter still lay in her slumber!? We have to leave the house in thirty minutes and here thou are still in twilight’s clothes. Are thou not ready for Italy?” Your mother spoke. “Yes mother, has my own mother think slothfulness has been bestowed upon me? I will be ready for our departure quick and swiftly.” “Well, hurry up, thou father gets mad when thee is tardy.” Your mother says before exiting and closing the door. You sighed to yourself before getting up and headed to your bathroom for your morning routine.

You headed down to the kitchen to have some breakfast before you leave. Grabbing a bowl and some oatmeal, you pour it into the bowl, add some water, and throw it in the microwave. You went to the fridge to get some fruit to have with the oatmeal, and then your mom walked in.

“Darling, make sure thou doth not eat too much, bloating will not be accepted when there are so many young men that would adore being thou spouse.” Your mom commented. It was the dreaded marriage talk, your parents got married at a young age to secure their assets as a way to be set financially for life, and now your parents expect you to do the same. They didn’t really care about love in the relationship, it was only about partnership and favors, you hoped that if ever got to marry someone, it was because of love, regardless of money.

“Mother, dost thou not believe in mutual feelings?” You ask. “Mutual agreements are supposed to be in order dear, never feelings, thou needs to be presentable, and not fond of sloppiness. Thy image is everything, thou needs to be pure as heaven, kind and graceful, and thou will then have the perfect husband.” You rolled your eyes away from your mom, how is it that you have to be attractive to get a husband, but the marriage is not out of love at all, only lust, greed, and pride.

“Come hither my wife and daughter! We are all ready for thy departure.” Your father says. You finish up the last of your breakfast before cleaning your area, and leaving for the airport.

Scene ii

The Osaki Residence was quite different. They were filled with chaos, and humor. They lived life fully, and rarely conformed to society’s expectations. They had life long riches, but never acted as if they had it. Their life consisted of endless travel, fun and living life at full potential. In this residence, it consists of three family members as well, Mr and Mrs Osaki, and their son Shotaro.

“Shotaro, boys come forth, or we will miss thy flight!” A voice called. “Mom, we are ready, bags are together and all.” Shotaro responded. “We are fine, I thank thee, Mrs. Osaki.” Haechan said before bowing. “I’m sure we are all grateful for thee letting us come along on the trip to Italy.” Sungchan spoke. “Yeah, we are gonna have so much fun, partying, drinking, beautiful girls.” YangYang chimed in. “I know that all sounds fun, but have thou boys ever thought about settling down and finding a beautiful girl that thou would want to marry someday?” Mr. Osaki asked. The four boys all gave gagging faces. “Trust me boys, I was like thee at thou age, charming and could get many girls but remember, there’s nothing like being in love.” He said before kissing his wife’s cheek. “Now let’s go we don’t want to miss thy flight.”

Scene iii

The (L/n) family finally arrived in Italy. Almafi Coast was beautiful to say the least, and the villa that they purchased for the occasion was apart of the perfect scenery, quiet, serene, and tasteful.

“Oh! This exquisite, (Y/n), isn’t this lovely?” Your mother asked. “Yes, quite.” You spoke. You were still experiencing jet-lag, so you have answering as you went along. “(Y/n), come now, thou should go look at thou room.” Your father commented. You walked through the hallway and upstairs to get to your room at the villa, and you were astound at how beautiful the room was. It contained nude pink renaissance themed wall paper, a yellow canopy bed with gold bedding, and a large balcony that you could walk out to to see the coastline. You were honestly impressed with how well the room was put together. You definitely felt like your dad payed good money for this villa.

“(Y/n), how dost thou like thy room?” Your mom asked. “Very beautiful I thank thee, mom.” You replied. “Don’t forget, we mustn’t wait around, we have a party with thou father’s business partners and a few guests tonight to celebrate their new deals.” “Oh most certainly! I remember a few of father’s partners, Mr. Lee, Mr. Jung, Mr. Nakamoto, Mr. Huang, and Mr. Osaki.” After you mentioned that name, your mother’s reaction went from nice to brutal. “Do not speak of that scum that infiltrated our family do thou hear me!? He is not fit to be here! He has almost shunned our family’s honor, and I am glad that he will not be attending.” She exclaimed. You were awfully confused, your father and Mr. Osaki were really good business partners, you don’t know what happened, but due to the recent outburst, you thought it would be best to not bring it up again to your mother. She sighed before walking out of your room to calm down for a bit. You shrugged it off and began to get ready for the party.

Scene iv

After a long flight, the Osaki family and Haechan, YangYang, and Sungchan finally arrived. As they all were situated in their villa, the family and friends all caught up on the excitement that they all wanted for the trip.

“So, what is the one thing that thee would like to do?” Mrs. Osaki asked. “Well, there’s a pretty big coast, I do plan on going to thy dock one day and sail a little bit.” Mr. Osaki spoke. “For me, three words, girls, girls, and girls.” Haechan joked. “I definitely want to see the Sistine Chapel for sure, as well as some of Italy’s infrastructure and history.” Sungchan explained. “Are you kidding me, I came here for two things and two things only, parties and football.” YangYang smiled. The family continued to murmur on what they wanted to do until Mrs. Osaki questioned her son. “Shotaro, what about thee?” “I don’t know, I’ll go where thy wind takes me.” Shotaro shrugged. Everyone nodded. “I’m just glad we all get to spend time with each other, just my loving wife and son, his friends, and no one else that could ruin this vacation, besides I’m finally away from thy man who caused all this stress upon me.” Mr. Osaki said. “Are thou talking about Mr. (L/n) sir?” Haechan asked, but got glares from Mrs. Osaki and Shotaro causing him to look down. “Sorry.” He said. “No it’s alright, I guess I can explain what happened so thou boys could learn a life lesson from this.” Mr. Osaki spoke up. “Mr (L/n), and I were both working together on a co-partnership deal that we put a lot of money into. If we made this deal work, we were gonna make so much money that we didn’t know what to do with, luckily the plan was approved and we were all ready to go into action, but there was a flaw. In order for this plan to work we needed to leave home for a very long time, your mother just gave birth to thee Shotaro, and I didn’t want to leave her by herself so with rational thinking, I told Mr. (L/n) no, but that caused chaos. He was mad because I chose to stay with my family instead of going along with thy multi million dollar deal because I already have money, but I also have a family that loves me. He was very angry at me for backing out of thy deal because of money that he already has, and has a family so I asked, ‘what about thou family?’ He then replied ‘As long as I’m making money, they don’t have to worry about where I go.’ After that he came up with his own deal, and made even more money, he stopped talking to me after that. It made me realize that he wasn’t a friend, he was a cruel businessman who only worried about deals in life, and I’m pretty sure he’s teaching his wife and child thy same way, so boys let this be a lesson to not think about wealth and power over love, it shows how heartless thou are as a person.

“Wow.” The boys said in unison. “Yep, I don’t tell people this story, because it’s quite boring, I’ll do it for thee, because thou all are my rock.” Everyone smiled before looking at the time. “Oh! We have to get ready!” Shotaro said. “Where are thou boys going?” Mrs. Osaki asked. “There’s a beach party a miles along the coast. It said open invite, so we just decided to try it out.” Haechan replied. “Well okay, as long as there’s no trouble, then thou boys can go.” She replied. “Awesome.” YangYang said.

Scene v

The decor for the party looked nice, the food looked good, everyone was dressed in formal-casual clothes, and there were all kinds of guests, the business partners, their kids, younger mentors, and respectable people.

You walked up the stairs to your room to get something from your room when you overheard your father from the other side of the door of your parents room.

“I don’t care if they were accidentally written to attend this party, the Osaki’s are not invited! They are spineless saps who don’t care about there livelihood or reputation at all, they will just ruin this party, especially with that reckless son of theirs, he’s just like his father, they are not invited, and if anyone of the Osaki’s or their acquaintances try to attend this party, I command thee to use force at once!” Your father spoke to who you assumed was security. Your father sighed before you heard footsteps going towards the door causing you to walk downstairs quickly towards the party. You thought to yourself how are the Osaki’s that bad, not only was your mom upset, your father reiterated in the same tone, it was very confusing. As you walked around the villa, your mom stopped you in your tracks along with a gorgeous man with long hair.

“(Y/n), this is Nakamoto Yuta, Mr. Nakamoto’s son, he spoke very fondly of thee, so I brought him over to chat with thee, so thou two enjoy yourselves.” Your mother spoke making you side eye her. “Hi, I’m Yuta, it’s a pleasure to meet thee, (Y/n).” He said before shaking your hand and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it. You have to admit, Yuta is quite handsome, long hair, soft yet seductive eyes, and a sharp jawline, you were intrigued. Maybe you could stay with him for a few minutes and get to know him.

Scene vi

On the other side of town there be another party, this one at the beach, and all kinds of fun, it nothing but young adults, sand, the sea, a bonfire, and fun. Haechan, YangYang, Sungchan, and Shotaro started having fun until they realized that almost half of the partygoers left due to the mildly cold waters, fire almost dying down, and open winds picking up.

“Damn, where’d all thy people go?” Haechan asked. “Probably indoors, it’s freezing.” Sungchan mentioned. “Yeah, and so is the water.” YangYang commented as he left the cold, dark ocean. “Thou guys wanna head back to thy villa?” Shotaro asked. “I guess, but I thought our main point of this vacation was to have fun? Going back to thy villa defeats that purpose.” Haechan shrugged. “What if instead of going back to our villa, we go to another?” YangYang suggests. “Elaborate.” Sungchan said. “I heard a few people say that thy guests of the Royal Renaissance villa is having a party tonight that started at 8:00, it’s 9:00 now, and I highly doubt that thy party would be over in an hour.” “What about security?” Shotaro mentions. “Please, with Sungchan’s legs, and YangYang’s and I’s sneakiness, we can easily get in there, I’m down.” Haechan spoke. The boys all agreed before pouring some water over the fire, threw on the shirts, and left the beach to head to the villa.

Scene vii

As the cab fare pulled up to the high class villa, the four boys were in awe, it was definitely high class due to the vintage yet modern architecture, pastel color palette, and array of organized flowers and lights along entry. The boys proceeded the villa with caution, taking in every detail and scoping out how they would get in.

“Okay, so what’s thy plan?” Sungchan asked. “I don’t know, but we need to figure it out to get in.” Shotaro replied. “Well, I hope we figure it out before that finds us.” Haechan said, referring to the tall and buff stone faced security. “I got it! Do you guys see that gate where the pool is? What if Haechan distracts thy guard in front of it away from the gate, we all climb thy gate, hide behind thy shack, and walk up thy stairs to thy party?” YangYang suggested. “Not a bad idea, but what about me, how will I get in after distracting him?” Haechan questioned. “I guess one of us will have to hide in that shed to let thee in. Sungchan and Shotaro are too tall to not be noticed so I guess it will be me. Just make sure you run faster than the security so he doesn’t see me open the gate. Is everyone down?” They all agreed to YangYang’s plan and kicked it into effect.

The plan was slightly conspicuous. The three boys hid in the bushes before Haechan began to insult the security guard making the boys chuckle. As Haechan took off running, the boys swiftly made their move. Considering that the gate could only be open by a key from security, and no key on the inside, they used Sungchan to leverage themselves up over the gate. With all the three inside, they knew they didn’t have much time before security came back.

As Sungchan and Shotaro moved upstairs towards the main door, YangYang hid in the small peach colored pool shed peeping out the window before seeing tuffs of brown hair flopping up and down quickly. He looked carefully to make sure security was nowhere near Haechan as he opened the shed and hid behind it before finally seeing Haechan near the gate. He moved to open the gate allowing him in as they could both tread heavy footsteps while running. The two boys ran at the speed of light, and hid under the stairs that led to the main door where the party was. Finally when the security got there, he looked around while catching his breath, and saw no sign of Haechan anywhere. Thinking he was gone, he got back to his job attending the gate.

The two boys tiptoed up the stairs as they saw the gold lighting inside. They opened the door quietly before ducking in. They assumed Shotaro and Sungchan were somewhere off browsing, but to their surprise, they were still waiting for their two friends and stunned at the decor of the party. Arranged table for Hors d’oeuvres, another table that set out wine glasses and champagne, and another one that had tons of gift bags for the guest. As they looked at the guests, they noticed their attire, laid back, but nice and formal wear, and then looked at themselves in their beach attire, getting a few looks from some of the guests, but to them, they didn’t care, a party was a party. “Guys, we made it.” Shotaro spoke.

Scene viii

As the night continued, the guests partied, some slightly tipsy as they stumbled upon their words. Laughter and chatter filled the villa well, many were happy, and were glad to be there, except (Y/n) who didn’t feel like talking to the handsome guy that irritated her.

“So my parents bought me a helicopter that I rode around in, it was worth $500,000, but I was with my friends, we were all wearing shiny Rolex watches, and my friend lost his off thy helicopter because it was too loose! Luckily my dad bought him another one, it was worth $60,000.” Yuta explained. “Uh huh.” You say nonchalantly. “Maybe, I could buy you one too, that is if you stay with me, maybe a pretty pink one with diamonds, hmm?” Yuta asked. “Yeah, that be great.” You shrugged. At this point, you were tired of Yuta, it was bad enough that you had to deal with your mom trying to match you up with him, but it was worse when all he would talk about was how rich him and his family was. “Hey, Yuta, do you mind if you could get me something to drink from thy table please?” “No problem.” He answered. He slowly walked towards the table, a slight arrogance to his walk. It was the perfect time to make an escape.

You hurriedly walked away from the people at the party, scurrying to the stairs trying to get away from anybody named your mom, your dad, or Yuta. As you walked fast you ran into somebody that was definitely taller and more broad than you. Hoping it wasn’t Yuta, you swore under your breath not wanting to see him. “Are thou okay?” A voice asked. Your ears perked up hearing a sweet voice that didn’t belong to Yuta, as you slowly looked up, you were struck with the most beautiful person you’ve ever met in your life.

Scene ix

“Shotaro, can we go somewhere else, this party is no fun, and thy alcohol and food are bleh.” Haechan whined. “Yeah, I agree with Haechan, everything here is so snotty and bratty, I tried talking a cute girl, and all she wanted to know was how much is my family’s worth.” YangYang replied. “If we find another place we could probably go to a club near here.” Sungchan spoke. “Looked it up, clubs aren’t near here, we have to travel to the city for clubs, we’re on an island coast remember?” Shotaro said. “Fuck.” Haechan swore, getting a few stares from random guests. “Okay well look, if thou guys want to leave that’s fine, but if we leave, we’ll have to back to the villa.” Shotaro mentioned. “That’s fine, at least the chefs could whip up some awesome Italian pizza for me.” Haechan joked. “You’re full of it Haechan.” Shotaro said as he walked into you. “Are thou okay?” He asked as he held you in his arms to keep you from falling. He took in your visible features like your height, hair, figure, and white dress. You finally looked up, and he thought he saw an angel, you were beautiful to him, had a very soft look in your eye, one that showed sweetness and caring personality, something that he has never seen in his life. The boys looked at his friend and the girl, and questioned the scene, both frozen, looking into each other’s eyes, as they held onto each other not letting go. Haechan, YangYang, and Sungchan all looked at each other and thought to themselves, did their friend find someone that infatuates him?

Act II

Scene i

Some people believed that there was a time and place for everything, others believe fate, in this case Shotaro and (Y/n) realized that their fate may be the best thing that has happened to them at this party, but what they don’t know is that there may be a catch to this lovely fate.

“Are thou okay?” Shotaro asked. “Yes I’m fine.” You replied still holding onto his grasp. You stood up a little showing your true height and form, even then you were still shorter that him by a few inches, but could finally see everything in view. His gorgeous smile, bright brown eyes, soft skin, You stared deep into his eyes, looking into the windows showed that he was kind, someone you could trust, you never saw that before, not even in your parents. “What is thou name?” He asked. “(Y/n), and thee?” “Shotaro.” You smiled. You felt warmth cascade through your body, you both were still into each other’s grasps, not wanting to let go, you felt safe, and secure, you didn’t know that a stranger could make you feel this way at all.

“We’re still linked.” Shotaro chuckled. “Well, it’s hard to remove yourself from someone who has such a hold on thee.” You smiled. “If it makes thou feel any better… I don’t want to let go of thee.” He whispered. “I don’t either.” Shotaro felt someone tap his shoulder, and sighed. He was annoyed at how someone could ruin such a beautiful moment. As he turned around, there stood his best friends ready to depart from the slow party. “Thou guys go ahead, I think I’m gonna stay here for awhile.” Shotaro spoke. “Are thou sure?” Sungchan asked. He looked back at you and smiled. “Yeah thou guys go, I’ll be fine.” He replied. They all smiled before patting his back and leaving from the exit.

“So what brings thee here to this party?” You ask. “Nothing but sheer boredom, I was ready to leave, but I found someone to make me stay.” He replies, making you smile. “I appreciate the gratitude, I guess I’ve become the life of the party?” You joke. “You definitely have.” He smiles. “How about thee? Is this a party thou wanted to come to tonight?” “Actually no, this is my parents party, they are hosting it.” You sighed and looked down. “You don’t seem happy.” He grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger lifting it up to keep your eyes focused on him. “Why are thou upset?” He asked with sincerity in his voice. “I’m not into this whole putting up a front for guests type of thing, I want to be my own self, not someone who is thy perfect daughter. Thou are the first person I didn’t have to lie to tonight.” You said. “If this is thee true self, I wouldn’t want thee to be any other way.” He commented. You both looked into each other’s eyes, his holding a truth to every word about you being your true self. Within seconds, your lips connected. The soft skin of his lips gave you tingles, never leaving the spot you were in, you both melted into it, you felt like your feet lifted off of the ground, and were transcending towards heaven. You loved every moment. As you both pulled away, you stared into each other’s eyes, smiling wide. “Sorry for stealing such a sweet kiss.” He spoke. “Why doth thou have to be sorry, I’m not upset, my lips feel happy to graze thee so nicely.

Not long after, your name was called, and it didn’t sound pleasant. Worried you hurried up to the stairs, with Shotaro behind you, hands intertwined. “We must hurry. I think my parents are calling me.” You said worriedly. As you both huddled towards the stairs, you saw your mother in trying to look for you with Yuta in her peripheral. You ran up the stairs with Shotaro and instantly made it to your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it afterwards.

“That was close.” You huffed. Shotaro looked around your room looking at the beautiful decor. “Nice room.” He commented. “Thank thee, thou can sit if thou want.” You replied, signaling him to the bed. “Can I ask why we were running away from thou parents?” You sighed. “It’s because of a lot, my parents hosted this party, I didn’t want to be here, and now my mom found this nice, but incredibly arrogant guy for me to talk to, but I’m not into him at all.” “Arrogant? He sounds horrible already.” Shotaro comments. “Yeah he is, they only want me to date someone who has a great status to keep up with the family name. They said that marriage is only an agreement, and should be used as such.” “That’s nothing like my parents, they fell in love when they first met.” “Well, thou parents sound lovely. I think my parents only want me to succeed at wealth and family and it’s just that I’m tired of trying to be… perfect.” “…Perfect?” You and Shotaro said in sync. You stare into his eyes lovingly, before you both leaned in and kissed again. The same feeling you had downstairs coming back to you, this time with more courage and understanding. You didn’t know what to call this feeling, but from the small comment from Shotaro about his parents, you felt like it was nothing other than love. You two were so enamored by each other so infatuated, the fact that you two couldn’t get out of each other’s grasps downstairs, and now you two have been kissing for as long as you could count, it all made sense to you.

Just then, there was a knock on your door that startled you and Shotaro. You both pulled away, you groaning in annoyance, but your emotions changed when a tone in voice replaced the knocks. “(Y/n), open this door, thou mother and I need to talk with thee it’s urgent.” Your father spoke. You began to panic, you knew your father didn’t want you to have a boy in your room, even on vacation. “That’s my father he can’t know thou are here, thou has to leave!” You whispered at Shotaro. “But what about thee? I want thee with me?” He asked. “Come by tomorrow, and I’ll see thee then. There’s a stairway under my room that is an emergency exit, thou can go through there from the balcony.” You kissed him one last time hands tucked in his hair. “Goodnight, I’ll see thee again.” You said. “Thou as well, be safe, goodnight.” He says before leaving you see him climb down safely before closing the balcony doors a little to allow some air, and finally opening the door to your room.

“Hi mother, father, what brings thee here?” You ask. “(Y/n), was there any boys here who were in swim attire that attended this party?” Your father asked. “Not that I’ve seen, is something wrong?” You asked, playing it coy. “Well one, they weren’t on the list of guests, and two, one of them was the only son of our enemies thy Osaki’s. His name is Osaki Shotaro.”

Scene ii

With night in place, everyone was happy, all except (Y/n) who now found out that her lover whom she loved relentlessly, was now the son of her parents enemies.

In that moment, your heart sank, Shotaro, an enemy, you hated to think that. “(Y/n)?” Your mother asked calmly. “N-no, I haven’t seen anyone of thy sorts.” You said sadly. “Well, just in case, we’ve upped security around just so no one with thy surname ‘Osaki’ Can step foot in this villa.” Your father replied. Your mother moved closer to you grabbing your hands as your dad stared at you as well. “Sweetheart, I know thou may not know much about thy Osaki incident, but just know that they are not good people to be around, they are untrustworthy, shallow, leeches, and one decision that Mr. Osaki made years ago with thou father, almost cost us our entire source of income and could’ve tarnished our names, we have swore to this day that no one with thy name Osaki shall cross our paths and we won’t let them.” Your mom said. “And we advise thee to do the same.” Your father said, staring at you. “Is that clear?” You nodded your head, making your parents smile. “Well good, now come along, we’ve got an hour left of the party, and Yuta would like to get to know thee more.” Your mom said dragging you out of your room and downstairs.

You looked back at the balcony thinking about Shotaro and his escape, upset that your lover is now thought of as an enemy, but one thing you didn’t know was that he was still on the steps, frozen after hearing every word your parents said about him and his family, and is also in the same sudden realization that hit you moments ago that you are a (L/n), his family’s worst enemy.

Scene iii

As dawn awakens, sunlight shines through the windows, by now, the Osaki family and friends have awaken, while the (L/n)’s are still in slumber. Shotaro smiles to himself, now happy to know he’s in love regardless of the baggage that his and her family holds to each other.

“So, let me get this straight, thou fell in love with a girl who is thou enemy!?” Haechan asks Shotaro while laughing. “Dost thou knoweth when to hold his jest laugh? She was beautiful, more than thy heavens that sit above earth. Her smile brighter than thy sun, and her sweet voice could not even compare to calming birds.” Shotaro speaks, staring in a distance. “How are’t thou so radiant in a lustrous love, that he hath forgotten thy disdain of thy families?” Sungchan asked. “Why thou question my love, thus this love can not grow without pandering to thy heart, less’t be thy heart that be so drugged in her.” “Why must we gossip? If thou love her, then thou shall seek her.” YangYang spoke agreeing with Shotaro. “I, but alas, the savagery that keeps us disheartened, also keeps us discontent.” Shotaro replied. “Her father who is thy conflict has released obsequious men who come to seek me if thy enter thy chambers. I ask of my three companions, dost thou not want me to be happy, shall I stay in isolation and remain frugal? I seek of my mates to help me through my journey, and keep me satisfied day by day forever as I live.” Shotaro pleads. As the three boys elaborate with thoughts, they all agree to Shotaro’s cries for help. Within minutes, Shotaro will see to his one true love as soon as possible.

Scene iv

Throughout the day, (Y/n) is infatuated by her lover Shotaro. As sunset falls, she dreams peacefully about the boy who was kept in her room hoping to see her again, sadly, news awaits her that she doesn’t want to hear.

“(Y/n), I come with grave news for thee!” Your mother exclaimed. “And what news shall thou bestow upon me?” You ask. “Yuta, has fallen in love with thee, and would respectfully take her hand in marriage!” You looked at her with shameful eyes, how could he want to marry you after a failed conversation? “Why must thou present this news to me now? Was said man so lustrous, he be willing to give vows so easily after a talk so lackluster?” You ask. “Oh stop being dramatic! Can’t thou see how infatuated he is of thee? If he not, then why is thy man so generous with words he cannot take back?” She replied. “But why now? Why cans’t thou wait for fate to cross our paths?” You ask. “Because fate is flawed, sometimes thou works fate in one’s favor.” “But what dost Yuta possess that no other man cans’t satisfy?” You question. “Wealth and a status that won’t besmirch thy name. Why would thee want someone worthless, when thou could have good courtship with a satisfying label? Vowing to thee would be monumental to thy family name, and help with accusations thy family has been wrongly shunned for.”You looked down, you hated to have to make a choice between your family and your lover, it was hard, but it seemed like your mother already gave you your option. “Thy ceremony is in a few weeks. That gives thee time to know Yuta in a more vulnerable state.” She says then exits. You sigh before laying back in bed, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Scene v

With forced marriage in one hand and love in the other, (Y/n) is torn. Luckily, with the help of his three friends, Shotaro might make her night feel much more secure.

“What scuffle is thy friend about to get us into now?” Haechan asked. “With maximum protection, thy can’t help thy self to (Y/n)’s chambers.” Shotaro explains. “Well, what shall dost thou need for help?” Sungchan asked. “With one dauntless armed guard near the gate, thou needs to throw something unbeknownst to him to excel on, with swiftness, thou noiselessly move past thy gate and into her chambers.” Shotaro explains.

As the three friends nod in agreement, they follow with the plan. YangYang and Shotaro promiscuously throw two rocks in a different direction making the near guards run towards the sound. They all erupt from the bushes before Sungchan lifts his friend up and over the gate to meet his fair maiden. Shotaro thanks his friends before ushering towards the balcony to climb, as the other three boys quietly walk back to their villa. With Shotaro in a great state, he climbs up until he finally meets the balcony door of his lover’s room.

Scene vi

Unknown to her, Shotaro pays (Y/n) a visit like he said he would, but is sad to hear the news from his lover that fills her heart with dread.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!” Shotaro whispers from the balcony before knocking. Hurriedly, she rushed to the door to see Shotaro, and opened the door finally seeing his brown orbs staring at her with all the love he had. He entered her room before kissing her lips with so much passion, not wanting to break away from her, but she had to in order for her to bare bad news.

“I missed thee so much.” He whispered. “Me too, but I sadly have horrid news.” You said. You could sense the worry in his body as you looked at him. You let in a huff before telling him. “My parents have arranged a marriage upon me.” Anger filled Shotaro’s body. “To whom will thou be exchanging vows with!?” He asked. “Y-Yuta.” You replied. With heavy hands, Shotaro pounded the desk behind you, rage in his eyes. You wanted to calm him down, but you were very worried about what could happen if you did.

“I have no intention to be courted by him. He is not who is here right now, only thee, I love thee.” You spoke up. Shotaro calmed down looking at you. “Thou doth not wish to be courted by him?” He asked. “No, only thee, I would gladly take thou courtship from thee. I love thee.” You repeat. He came up to you and kissed you passionately. “Then by night…and stars…take thee…and make…thee satisfied…until morn.” Shotaro said between kisses. You nodded your head before replying. “I take thee.” You whispered as he moved you to the soft and comfortable bed.

“Don’t leave…Don’t leave…Don’t leave.” He whispered as his kisses trailed down to your neck. “I’m here Shotaro, I’m here.” You moaned.

Shotaro kissed your neck softly making sure to be gentle with you, not wanting to mess this up for you. He kicked off his shoes before completely moving up onto the bed above your sprawled out body. He looked up at your state, in nothing but a silk robe almost ready for bed before he showed up. You smiled up at him wanting him to continue, his eyes fixated on your silk covered body long enough. “Please Shotaro, please.” You whined. He licked his lips, lust now clouding his thoughts more than ever. He leaned back down to place more kisses against your neck before finally giving in and marking up your soft skin. The suction was a foreign feeling, it was slightly painful, but arousing. You whined in response, making Shotaro smile against your skin, he moved away from the purple mark making sure to kiss it before moving to another part of your neck to deliver another mark near the first one and kissed it as well, he continued this action two more times before removing your robe of your shoulder to expose your collarbones to repeat the same action.

He kissed and marked them up making you sigh into his touch. Loving the way your collarbones looked covered in his marks, he pushed the right side of your robe off your shoulder to expose your right breast. He gasped at your breast, not even thinking that you two would get this far. He stared at round mound, while a small part of your nipple on your left breast peeked out of the remaining piece of the robe left on your chest. Obligated, he removed the left side as well, now your full chest on display for him. He cupped your breasts in his hand before leaning down to kiss and suck at the supple skin on your right breast leaving marks on it, while repeating the same moves to the left. His thumbs grazed over your nipples making you shudder. Finally, he took your nipple into his mouth making you whine.

He sucked the sensitive nipple eagerly, tongue rolling over the bud and flicking it up and down as you gripped his hair, playfully running your fingers through the brown locks. He moved to the other nipple to do the same actions. “Shotaro.” You moaned. You couldn’t bear it, your arousal got the best of you, you needed some sort of friction for your almost practically soaked heat. “Please go f-further.” He gave you a nod before removing his shirt showing his toned body, not making your arousal any better.

He untied the loose belt on the robe as you sat up to help him. You grabbed the robe when it was completely open, and moved it out of your way. Shotaro happy to finally have your body on full display. “So beautiful.” He groaned, his bulge now strained in his pants as he caught a glance of your soaked pussy.

He bent down to kiss the top of your thighs, not wanting to waste any time pleasing you. He kissed towards the inside of your thighs, moving your legs apart to get more access. He was now face to face with your pussy, he looked up at you to make sure it was okay. “Is this good?” He asked. “Yes, please, I need something there.” You replied. With no hesitation, Shotaro wrapped his supple lips around your clit. You threw your head back, eyes closed with pleasure going through your body. He sucked on your sensitive clit, getting you used to the feeling. Your body jolted at the immense sensation that coursed between your legs.

Continuing his movements, Shotaro trailed his tongue to your sopping entrance, licking around it teasing you before using his tongue to lick aggressively at your slit. You felt so violated, how could a tongue have so much control over you? You craved it more, your carnal instincts coming out when he pushed his tongue into your gaping hole. “Ahh, Shotaro!” You moaned. You moved your hand to his hair, while the other one laid on the sheets, bunching up the material. He pushed his tongue in and out of you, preparing you for what was about to come later on, you loved how gentle he was with you, but also liked his initiative to please you.

Shotaro removed his tongue from your entrance and moved up to suck your clit, his finger replacing his tongue from your entrance. “That feels good.” You moaned. You could feel the soft smile spread across his face in between your legs, loving the praise you gave him. He sucked harshly at your clit, trying to build up your release, he knew you were close by the way your toes curled, and your body tensing up, you didn’t even realize you’ve been grinding against his face for the past minute. “Shotaro, close!” You whined. With a groan from his voice, he was ready for your release. With the curl of his digit, and his mouth sucking your bundle of nerves, he used his tongue to claim what was his, he spelled the seven letters into your clit that sent you over the edge. ‘S,H,O,T,A,R,O’ you were his. You convulsed around his finger, his lips still doing a number on you as pleasure took over your entire body. Pants and gasps left your mouth with small whines made you sigh. Shotaro let out a smile, seeing your body go through that much pleasure. Your body sent little shockwaves as you tried to calm down, he removed his finger and mouth that were now covered in both your arousal and release. With the satisfied look on Shotaro’s face, you knew you did well.

“So beautiful.” He comments making you giggle. Not wanting to waste another minute, Shotaro unbuttons his pants to remove them, releasing some of the tension on his strained hard on. You looked at the boy who stood tall above you, nearly naked, only a piece of thin underwear stood in the way. Slowly, he removed his underwear, his length now standing at full attention, his tip leaking precum from how long it’s been confined for.

Your breath hitched as your pussy clenched around nothing staring at his impressive length. He noticed your staring before he moved back up to the bed, and kissed you again while pumping his length in his hand. He looked at you making sure you were ready as he lined himself up with your entrance. You issued him a nod before he rubbed your slit with his tip before entering in slowly.

You gave a choked sound, the pain a little overwhelming. He took in your expression that showed pain, halting his movements into you. “Does it hurt?” He asked. “A little.” You sighed. He held your waist firmly before kissing you to help take away from the pain, after every few seconds, his length inches inside of you. Finally sheathed in you, the pain subsides. “Shotaro…move.”

Shotaro began to move in and out of you slowly, moans soon taking over yours and his throats. The feeling was amazing to you, you felt so secure, and so full, you didn’t think you could feel this way. Each thrust he gave was slow and meaningful, they were also precise enough to hit you at a good angle. Your hands gripped his shoulders, for leverage, holding onto him as his thrusts went harder. Giving more pleasure between the two of you.

Shotaro’s hard thrusts we’re so good that he was able to hit a spot in you that you didn’t even know you had. “Shotaro, there!” You moaned out. Shotaro moved down to your neck hiding in it as he continued his harsh thrusts, moaning into your neck as you clenched around him. “So good (Y/n).” He moaned. You moved your legs to wrap around his torso, feeling a bundle of nerves move from your stomach to your pussy, you were close again, and Shotaro was too. His dick twitched inside of you as his thrusts became sloppy. Only moans could be heard in the room as you both chased your orgasm. Shotaro removed his hand from your waist to vigorously rub at your clit throwing you off the edge. “Let go angel.” He groaned. You released around him. A cry of his name was all that you could utter in the moment. Your pussy clenching hard on his dick making him satisfied before releasing as well. Thick spurts of cum filled you up as you both rode out your highs together giving each other one final kiss as you both began to calm down. Still fully sheathed inside of you, Shotaro flips you two over, as you now lay on top of him. With his hands wrapped around your waist, Shotaro kisses your temple before you both fall into a deep sleep.

Act III

Scene i

As the two lovers awake from their slumber, they are in peace. Tranquil sounds fill the room as they recall last nights’ endeavors.

“Good morn.” You giggle. Shotaro kisses your head and nose before responding. “Good morn, love.” You and Shotaro both cuddle each other, still tight in each other’s embraces as you and your bodies were still tangled within each other from last night.

“We’re still intertwined.” You say, your warm heat still enclosed on Shotaro’s cock. “Yes, we are, doth my love wish to remove herself?” “It depends on if thou can’t take it anymore.” You reply. “Oh, I can handle it, thou feels so warm.” He comments. “But Shotaro, thou has to leave before my mother and father find out.” You said. “Mm, give me a minute, never a morn person.” You giggle at his reply. Even though it’s only been two days, you never realized how easy it is to love a person so much, it felt amazing.

“Come on, let us take a shower to clean off thy sins of last night.” You say removing yourself from his grip and standing up completely bare. Shotaro puts his arm behind his head, and smirks. “I’d rather watch the view, thou looks gorgeous.” You roll your eyes before walking off. “If thou wants to see this, thou should get up and come to the shower.” In a flash, he scurries to the bathroom door as you turn on the shower. You both clean yourselves off, scrubbing each other’s bodies, sharing kisses in between as you hurry to get out of the shower. After a few minutes, you and Shotaro both walk out, towels covering each other’s frames, hair wet, with the same smiles plastered on each other’s faces.

“I needed that.” Shotaro commented. “Me too, now we can get dressed, and find a way to hangout today.” You reply. “I know a way.” Shotaro smirks. He began to kiss your neck, licking at the love marks he left on you last night. “Mm, Taro.” You whimpered. He couldn’t help himself, you looked good coming out of the shower with nothing but a towel on. He removed your towel and you removed his, as you were both about to take it to the bed, but you felt your heart pretty much drop at the sound of a door opening.

“(Y/n) dear, it’s time for, Ahhh!” Your mother shrieked, dropping the glass of juice on the floor. You and Shotaro completely bare, sitting on the edge of the bed was the image your mother had to endure. Frozen, you didn’t know what to think, but Shotaro did, throw on his clothes and go, he hurriedly threw on his pants as your mom stood there anger in her face. As she charged towards you, you sprung for the covers, shielding your body from the open.

“Thou wretched boy how dare thou approach our sanctum!?” Your mother exclaimed as she moved to you. Shotaro was trying to find his shirt from the floor to hurry and leave, but the situation was worse when someone who you did not want to see showed up in your peripheral. “I heard screaming what has happened, OUT!!!” Your father exclaimed, not even giving a second to check out the entire situation. Your father began to charge at Shotaro full speed, luckily Shotaro managed to quickly climb down from the balcony, his chest pounding with adrenaline.

“Don’t you dare come back, if thou do, thou will face thy fury of thee, and surely view thy fiery depths of hell for thy sin put upon thy fruit of my loins!” Your father yelled towards Shotaro. As your dad turned around, you saw how angered he was. His face flustered, veins visible with his temple, eyes seething with rage. You wanted to say something, but you were too scared to. He finally saw the glimpse of the scene in your bedroom, messy sheets, your body only covered by the sheets that lay on top of your bed, a few fixtures from the room out of place, and the discarded clothes on the floor, especially Shotaro’s shirt and underwear finally made him put two and two together, you slept with each other, now even madder than before, he wasn’t going to let bygones be bygones, he needed to get some aggression out, and the only for that to happen was to visit the people who fueled that aggression.

“As I swear by thy world today, if I don’t get my hands on that boy who take away my daughter’s purity, rage that is built up in me shall be as hot as thy wicked in hell.” He seethes before walking out.

Scene ii

Tension has arose within the (L/n) family, now with the unforseen circumstances, their entire vacation now feels like a nightmare, especially for Mr. (L/n).

In a flash, Shotaro has made it home with no questions from his family that is until they overhear a light comment from Haechan that sparks suspicions.

“Oh look who’ comes about, thy man of thy hour, how did sulking in your own love and sin feel?” In that moment, Shotaro wanted to attack Haechan quickly, but was stopped by his parents. “Love and sin? What is thy boy mumbling about?” Mrs. Osaki asked. “Isn’t it obvious honey? Our son has found love, I’m proud.” Mr. Osaki replied. “Well who’s thy beautiful girl that you spark interest with, she must be intriguing.” Mrs. Osaki said. “Quite.” Shotaro commented. “Well don’t purse thy lips together, who doth she be?” Mr. Osaki asked. Haechan, YangYang, and Sungchan all looked at Shotaro with wide eyes, waiting for his answer. “Well, she’s, her name is…” Just then three loud bangs erupted from the door, the Osaki’s and the boys confused as to what the commotion was about. As they looked around noting that they heard the same thing, the banging happened again this time louder, not wanting to anticipate any longer, Mr. Osaki went to the door before opening it, and much to his dismay, was shocked to see a person he wasn’t ready to see.

Scene iii

There stood an angry Mr. (L/n) eyes scanning Mr. Osaki. Both had despised each other deeply, and to even see each other face to face was very surprising to say the least.

“Doth thou son not knoweth of the rules of fondling with my family!?” Mr. (L/n) asked. “What are thou uttering now?” Mr. Osaki replied. “I am talking about thy sins thou son has placed upon my daughter!” Everyone in the Osaki villa looked back at Shotaro anger or shock upon their faces. “Why would thou come up with a preposterous accusation of that nature!?” Mr. Osaki questioned. “Why!? Because thou son has been seen by my and my wife’s eyes for thy matter! They have been bare together, and have laid up through the sins of lust!” “Not lust, love, it is love that binds our young hearts together.” Shotaro speaks up. “Love!? What do thou know about love!? How could my daughter even love such scum that walk!? You’re ridiculous, you’re just as incompetent as your father!” “How dare thou speak to my son! Thou has no right to speak of thy relations that spill from thou mouth, thou is a pretentious hob knob that cares about nothing in thy world but thou own’s personal gain, do not blame my son for this mess, when thou daughter could be a glorified rich earned whore!”

With that there issued a punch to Mr. Osaki’s nose, the rage and fury finally drove Mr. (L/n) to his breaking point. Mr. Osaki stumbled back, the boys and Mrs. Osaki frozen at the scene. Mr. Osaki went and lunged at Mr. (L/n), punching him across his jaw. Eventually the fight continued, both men throwing punches left and right at each other, blood and bruises gathering on their faces. Mr. (L/n) took one hit to Mr. Osaki making him fall to the ground. “I always knew thou was a weakling, couldn’t even say no to others, and now look at thee, scattered across his own floor.” Mr. (L/n) scoffed. Suddenly, Mr. Osaki stood back up and gave Mr. (L/n) a really hard punch giving him a bloody nose. “I may be a weakling, but at least I don’t put up a facade of money and status to hide mine.” Mr. (L/n) then attacked Mr. Osaki by pushing him down, now punching him multiple times at once, his knuckles were covered with blood, while Mr. Osaki grunted from the pain. The boys and Mrs. Osaki pulled Mr. (L/n) off of his body, holding him steady as Mrs. Osaki went to check on her injured husband. Sadly, the strength of the four boys was too weak to hold Mr. (L/n) and with that he punched Shotaro across his jaw. Shotaro covered his mouth making sure there was no teeth or blood involved. “Stay away from my daughter.” He threatened. Mrs. Osaki saw enough and was ready to combust, this man has interrupted their vacation and has now beat up her husband and punched her son, she was pissed. “Get out! Thou shall be banned from our place immediately, go go!” She yelled before following him and closing the door after his way out.

Scene iv

As the fight and eruptions calm down, the Osaki household has some issues to resolve. One being of how to resolve the complications that came from Mr. (L/n).

“Thou are not to speak of this matter understand!? All four of thee are to go upstairs, thou three help Shotaro, and Shotaro, thou are not to interact with that tramp ever again! Do thou understand!?” Mrs. Osaki exclaimed. The boys nodded quickly before following orders.

“That was some blow thou took!” YangYang spoke. “Can we not talk about that right now, my father was almost murdered by a psycho!” “What is thou about to do?” Sungchan asked. “Nothing. We are still here for almost two weeks, I can make up with (Y/n) before we leave, I love her, and I won’t let that crazed man stand between us. “Thou is brave.” Haechan comments.

Just then, Mr. and Mrs. Osaki barge into Shotaro’s room. “I-, I just- WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? Did thou not listen to my orders when I say the (L/n)’s are bad people!?” Mr. Osaki yelled. “I’m sorry, but thou shouldn’t be mad about love, thou said it was a wonderful thing.” Shotaro replied. “Well maybe thou loves the wrong person, this time.” Mrs. Osaki said starkly. “Well at this point it doesn’t matter anymore because we are leaving right now! Pack your bags!” Mr. Osaki commanded. “W-why?” Haechan asked. “Why!? Because a foul creature has evaded my vacation home and has shunned me and my family, that’s why. Shotaro, thou will never speak to her again, and that’s final, if so, then thou should drop the name of Osaki till thou’s last days.”

At that moment, Shotaro’s heart sank how is he supposed to leave without saying goodbye, he wouldn’t do it. “No, why should I leave just because thou two hate each other!? I’d rather die a thousand deaths before leaving my one true love!” “Shotaro thou are leaving with us and that is final!” Mrs. Osaki said, putting Shotaro back in his place. He didn’t say another word, and began to pack, his friends showing worry in their eyes as Shotaro aggressively packed his bags, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I’ll miss her. I love her.” He mumbled.

Scene v

As the afternoon came along, you sat and waited for everything to settle down, not even thinking about your parents, only Shotaro and when he would come back.

You looked out your balcony. Hopefully Shotaro will come back, you had to see him again. The anticipation was driving you crazy. Everything here was very rough when your father walked out for a few hours. Your mother scolded you, explaining how wrong it was to sleep with someone they despised as well as sleeping with someone while you were engaged. She even tried to scrub the love bites that Shotaro left on you last night, it only made your skin dry and irritated with how hard she was scrubbing.

Suddenly, the door opened, hoping it was Shotaro, it was your parents, you looked at your father, his face was covered in scratches, bruises, and dried blood making you gasp. He noticed your worried expression before answering.

“It was Osaki, he did this, I confronted him about his son, and he just attacked me, I tried to fend for myself, but I was useless. He obviously hates us because of our previous issues, but now it’s worse since thou have sinned with that boy, therefore thou is forbidden to see him.” Your father spoke. “What, no thou can’t do that, I love him!” You exclaim. “Well, then I guess it won’t be hard for thee to love Yuta when thy marriage complete. It happens in three weeks, a week from when we go back home.” Your mother explained. “No, I don’t want to be married to anyone other than Shotaro!” You yell, tears welling in your eyes. “(Y/n), this marriage is binding and that is final! And if I so hear one word about that Osaki kid coming anywhere near thee again, then so help me I will make it be his last.” Your father commented. “And just so thou doth not get any ideas… she will have these doors locked shut for her well being.” Your dad said before locking the balcony doors and walking out with your mother before shutting the door and locking it as well. “No! Thou can’t do this, let me see him please!” You sob behind the door. “Goodnight my daughter.” Your parents both said in sync. You silently sob into your pillow, wanting to see Shotaro again.

Shotaro Epilogue

The Osaki’s and the boys boarded the plain swiftly, all upset that their trip had to end over petty drama. The only ones sympathetic about the situation was Haechan, YangYang, and Sungchan who have never seen their best friend so crushed before, they knew that he obviously loved you and couldn’t let go, but he had to. All the stuff that he did was for you, and he’d be willing to do it all again if it meant to see you. He clutched his heart the entire time, completely heartbroken, eyes bloodshot from how much he cried about missing you. His only regret was never kissing you goodbye. But he has also learned a pretty good life lesson, love at first sight is real, but don’t be a fool enough to fall for it. As the plane began to take off he shed one final tear before the plane left the ground. “Goodbye my love.” He whispered quietly.

(Y/n) Epilogue

You had come to find out that the Osaki’s left the night of your father’s fight with Mr. Osaki, you were crushed, how could he leave? How could Shotaro leave. What was worse was that you found out one week after they left, depressed about your lover, you were crushed. He was the one you wanted to marry, the one you wanted to start a family with, live with him together forever. Now, you sit at home getting ready for the wedding reception for today, but you were very nauseous. Throwing up left and right since last night, once you peed on the small blue stick, it made sense, no period, the vomiting, and mood swings, you were pregnant, so now, you are getting married to the wrong man, you’re pregnant, and now, your lover and father of your child has departed from you, what a way to end all that you and Shotaro have stayed together for. “(Y/n) darling, are you ready?” Your mother asked. “No, but if it makes everyone else happy, then sure.” Everyone gets happiness but you and Shotaro, the boy who you will always love.

[hayjeon]

One Year, My Love [M] (ft. Jungkook) | pt. 1

→ historical/royal!au, marriagecontract!au, based off the kdrama 100 days My Prince; → You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year. 

→ genres: lots of fluff/plot development, a tiny bit of angst, and a little smut → 15k words | part 1| part 2 | fin.

A/N: I went on a writing binge the past couple days and I was able to finish this monster fic, and wanted to get it out for you guys so you can read during quarantine! I usually tend to write really angsty and darker fics, so I hope that the fluff in this one is really refreshing :) 

“No!” You scream, flailing your arms as the officials try to drag you into the waiting carriage. “I won’t marry him! I can’t!” 

The matchmaker looks wistfully at you as you struggle. “Please! Y/n, he is rich! He’ll pay for your debt, and you’ll avoid a punishment! I’m sure that your fiancee, ‘Jungkook’ that you speak of, doesn’t even exist! You have no one else! Just go!” 

You struggle, putting up quite a fight with the two men gripping either of your arms. “Never!” You scream, turning to bite one on his arm. He yelps and lets you go, and when his partner sees that you bit him, he throws you onto the ground, drawing his sword and whipping it at your neck. 

He huffs, “You bitch, you know that it’s the King’s decree that all women must be wed by tonight. This is your last chance to survive. Your punishment may be death, and if you want to meet that end, so be it!” 

You glare up at him, blowing the hair that fell out of your bun out of your face, “So do it! Kill me! I’d rather die than be married off to someone who’s older than my father! He’s a pig!” 

The villagers murmur. They knew of him. The rich landowner who happened to also be a government official who was heftily over sixty years of age, and well-known to have multiple concubines. If you married him, you would be his seventh. 

The official just presses his sword closer to your neck, and you feel the sharp blade dig into your delicate skin. “General Oh is being a kind man to allow a woman with age and no property wed into his household. You should be thankful!” 

“Thankful!” You scoff, laughing loudly “Ha! Thankful? To that swine who sits around all day getting fat, instead of protecting the country and his tenants like he should? His one desire is to get enough concubines so he could fuck one each day of the week! You call him a kind man? Do you not have any sisters, or a daughter? Would you ship her off to a man like that?!” 

The man hesitates, and you see him gulp. There. You’d hit a nerve. 

“Oh,” you smile slyly, “so you do have a woman close to you.” You take his moment of weakness to stand, but he still holds the sword pointed towards you. “Then you’d understand why I would rather die by your sword, than by that swine’s disgusting little dick.” 

The official’s eyes widen, but he holds his ground. “Well, if that may be it, then I have no choice but to follow the King’s decree. All men or women who refuse to be wed by tonight will be executed.” 

You hold your head high, eyeing him down with a steely gaze. “So be it.” You grit, lip curling. 

The official seems like it’s the last thing he wants to do, but everyone turns their heads or shuts their eyes as the man lifts his sword high. You lift your eyes to the sky. You’d endured quite a bit of your life, struggling to make ends meet after your parents were murdered, you’d run away and swam through the rushing rivers to escape the murderers dressed in black who’d ransacked your house and kidnapped your brother. After you were saved and adopted by your current father, your life had been one of petty thefts and begging until you’d been able to run some manual labor jobs to help pay for food and kindling for yourself and your father. Until now, it had been a hard, hard life. There was no god. But you knew one thing. You would never, ever lose your honor. And so be it, losing your life this way. 

You suck in a breath, waiting for the sword to swing down, when suddenly your father��s voice cuts through the crowd. 

“WAIT! WAAAAIIIIITTTT!” He cries, stumbling and pushing through the crowd. He tows along a man dressed in white after him. “He’s here! Her fiancee!” He lifts the hand that holds the man’s hand. The man seems as confused as you are, but the official lowers his sword. 

The matchmaker gasps. “That’s Jungkook?!” He gapes. “He exists? I thought she made him up!” 

Your father runs up to you, and you face him with a bewildered expression as he leans in close. “Just go with it,” he grits, before facing the official with a gentle smile that doesn’t match the environment of the conversation. “I’m so sorry for my daughter, she must’ve lost her mind. She has a fiancee, but he was far away. I just returned with him, and they will be wed today!” 

You whip your head to stare at the man in tow with your father. He seems beaten up; a busted lip and some bruise littering his cheek and neck. But underneath the grime he’s quite handsome, and seems to be of around your age. His eyes are round and his skin quite pale. His nose is large and regal, while his lips are round and plush. His jawline is sharp and his shoulders broad and muscular. He meets your gaze with a frown. 

The official faces you, quirking his brow. “Is this true?” 

Your panicked expression molds into a calmer one, your mind running a hundred miles a minute. “Yes,” you determine, facing him with a bold stare. “This is my fiancee. I will be wed to him.” Better the wide-eyed man than the swine. 

He faces the man. “Is what she is saying true?” 

You and the rest of the onlookers turn to the handsome man. He frowns, contemplating how your father had nursed him to health and moments ago begged him to please return the favor by marrying his daughter. He was shocked and had no time to ask questions as he’d been dragged out of bed to the town hall of this run-down village. His head still throbs, and he watches as you look at him with such determination, and your father with desperation. 

He squares his shoulders, and looks back at the official. 

“Yes. She is my fiancee.” 

Everyone seems to sigh in relief as the official nods and sheathes his sword. He signals to his comrade and they leave the premises, promising to send word to their general regarding your marriage status. He hoists himself up on the horse. “You must be wed by tonight,” he warns, and gallops away. 

The matchmaker scurries up to you both, a huge smile on his face. “So, what kind of a wedding do you want?” 

You and the man sit on the front porch. You level him with a steely gaze, your arms crossed across your chest while your dad cowers in the corner. 

“Your name?” You ask.

He glares back at you. “I don’t remember.” 

“How did you meet my father, then?” 

Your dad pipes up. “I found him when I went to go fishing. He’d been washed up on the riverbed with a nasty wound on the back of his head.” 

The both of you return to glaring at eachother. 

“Fine,” you snap, “It seems as if you and I have both...situations...that need to be solved. You don’t remember anything about yourself and where you’ve come from. I need to find a husband to marry by the end of the day or else I’ll be executed. We will forge a deal.” 

He frowns. “What are the terms? What is preventing me from just running away?” 

You spread out a scroll, dipping your brush into the ink as you write neatly. “Term 1. You shall be given the name, ‘Jungkook.’” 

“That’s the name that I lied was of my fiancee.” You explain, “Since you seem to not remember your own name, that shall be the name at least until you remember yours, that you are called by.” He watches you write in silence. 

“Term 2. I will nurse you back to health. If you decide you don’t want this, you will die of starvation, mugging, or of your wounds. We are the only chance you have at regaining your memory and returning to your previous life.” 

You watch as his expression remains unchanging. He had an impeccable pokerface. 

“Term 3. We will be wed for 1 year. Whether your memory has returned or not, the year must be fulfilled in order to satisfy the decree of the King. After the given time, when the flowers of the Spring begin to bloom, you may go on your way, and I will go on mine.” 

He frowns at you. “What will happen in that time?”

You shrug, watching the villagers scurry about, preparing food and decorations for your wedding. “I will nurse you back to health and we must maintain the state of the house and act as a married couple. There is not much else. It is the least you can repay to my father for saving your life.” 

He nods. “Keep going.” 

You lean down to write down the final term. “Term 4. You will speak to no one of this truth, and this contract will stay within the walls of this house and be known by the parties present: you, myself, and my father.” 

He sighs, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the contract. “You misspelled ‘myself’” he mutters. 

You stare up in shock. “You know how to read?” 

He seems to be surprised at your question. “Yes?” 

You straighten up. “Well, if you know how to read, then you must be from an affluent family. Ever the more reason to continue to try and regain your memories.” 

“And you?” 

You still, pausing at his question. There was no way he would understand what you’ve been through, why you were here now. You clear your throat, “I-I just picked it up. It’s a skill that I needed to learn to survive.” 

He doesn’t reply, and so you clear your throat again, turning the contract towards him. “Do you agree to these terms?” 

He surveys the script for a bit longer, and then nods. “I agree to these terms.” He dips his thumb in the ink and presses it down into the paper, and then takes the brush to write neatly on the bottom next to yours. 

Jungkook. 

The marriage ensues quickly, your surprised villagers preparing a last minute celebration of sorts. You borrow the matrimonial robes from your neighbor, Jisoo, who was wedded last week and has yet to return it to her lender, and Jungkook is able to borrow the matching set. 

In order to meet the deadline, your town decides to skip all the formalities and boil down the ceremony to just a fraction of the normal festivities. The matchmaker has put on his officiator’s clothes for the final time, and asks you the question. “Do you, y/n of this town, agree to marry and cherish this man, Jungkook, for the rest of your life, through sickness and in health?” 

You meet the eyes of Jungkook. He’s cleaned up quite nicely, your father helping him bandage up his wounds better and washing himself so he’s no longer caked in dirt and dried blood. His hair is re-tied into the tall bun on his head and the ceremonial silk hat placed on his head, adorned with beautiful beads. His robes are a beautiful royal blue. 

You weren’t really a liar. You were known to say it as it is. Your mouth had gotten you in quite a lot of trouble growing up. But this is the one time you knew you had to life. In order to survive. You would not cherish this man. You didn’t even know him. It would only be a marriage of a year. 

“I do.” You reply. 

The matchmaker smiles. “And do you, Jungkook,” he declares, turning, “take y/n, agree to marry and cherish this woman for the rest of your life, through sickness and in health?” 

He watches you, dressed in bright, red silk robes traditional for a bride and hair pulled into a large updo and adorned with a traditional wedding headpiece. “I do.” He states. 

Everyone erupts in cheers, your father being the loudest of them all. The matchmaker declares, “Then, with the power vested in me, I declare that Y/n and Jungkook are now married! Our city has completed the decree!” 

The villagers burst into music and dancing, women ushering forward with plates of food that they’d just cooked, and the fattest pig’s meat was brought forward with jugs of rice wine to share. You and Jungkook left the premises to change out of your clothes, in order to not get them dirty. 

Jisoo helps you undress and get into your regular clothes. “Jungkook is quite handsome, don’t you think?” She smiles, folding the silk neatly into its box. “You’ve found quite a fiancee.” 

You smile weakly, tying the knot in your shirt. 

“He doesn’t talk much, though, does he?” She ponders aloud, helping you get the pins and the headdress out of your hair. “I love that Eunwoo is a talker. He’s quite expressive, which matches me.”

You hum, erasing the makeup off your face. “Yes, you and your match are quite the pair. You got lucky, Jisoo.” 

She blushes, sighing dreamily. “I still can’t believe I was matched with him. He’s amazing.” 

You chuckle. “I’m sure he thinks the same of you.” 

You catch your gaze in the mirror. The day was full of events, but your face looks haggard and sad. You wonder if you’d ever be able to find someone who thinks so of you. 

Jisoo cherps up. “Oh right, during your wedding, I don’t know if you heard, but there was an official announcement that the Crown Prince Jeon has died.” 

You perk up at the news. “What? Wasn’t he the one who decreed this whole marriage law?” 

She nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, seems like it was a political move to try and increase the population. Quite a move, in my opinion. He would’ve made a fine king. But there are rumors he was assassinated.” 

Frowning, you help her pack up the dress. “The royals are never the type to ever care about people like us. Whether the Crown Prince took the throne or his little brother, it doesn’t matter. They would never make things better for us.” 

Jisoo shrugs. “You never know.” 

When she leaves the room, you think to yourself. If the Crown Prince was the one who’d decreed the nationwide marriage law, and if he was now suddenly dead, there was a chance that the law would be appealed. 

When you and Jungkook get a moment alone, you pull him aside where no one is listening. “We need to think of a plan.” 

He pulls his arm out from where you hold him. “Don’t touch me, how dare you place your hands on me?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his haughty language. “If anyone asks you, we met at the field where the yellow flowers bloom. It was there that you fell in love with me, and asked for my hand in marriage a few years ago. Until now, you were deployed far away as a warrior, and now have returned due to your injuries in battle. That is the story that you must tell the villagers until this is over. Am I clear?” 

He huffs, crossing his arms. “Fine.” 

You frown at him. “What is wrong now?” 

He turns from you. “I wanted to keep those clothes on,” he murmurs, and you frown and tip your ear closer to him. “What?” 

“I wanted to keep the robes on,” he mutters, and you follow his gaze to where Jisoo and Eunwoo return the ceremonial robes back to the kind vendor who’d lent it to them. 

You scoff. “Why? They’re ceremonial robes.” 

“They were quite comfortable. I hate these scratchy clothes your father has put me in.” You finally take a step back to look at him. You giggle. You recognize the outfit, it was one your father had worn years ago and had gotten to fat to fit in anymore. The hemp fits neatly on Jungkook’s shoulders, but he cringes as the scratchy and stiff fabric rubs against his skin. 

You roll your eyes, slapping him. “Don’t be a little baby.” His eyes widen at your actions. “How dare you!” He bellows, “Never put your hands on me, woman!” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “So you are from a rich family, huh? You know how to read, you prefer silk clothing, and you talk like a spoiled little brat. Well, look, Jungkook. Here in the village, we work with the sweat on our backs to make money, and with that money we buy food. Hear that? Food. We don’t go around, and waste our money on things like silk. Instead, we walk into the forest, gather heaploads of grass and weave them together to create this fabric. And only after that’s finished, we sew them together by hand, and wear it for years. Do you understand?!” 

Your voice has gotten quite loud in the rant, and his eyes widen and he seems to shrink a little under your anger. 

Huffing at him, you jam a finger into his chest. “And finally, you never, ever call a lady ‘woman’! That is the language of those rich swines who treat others below them like trash. Here in this village, you treat others with respect, and kindness. I’m not sure if you learned that in your previous cushy lifestyle, but it’s something you need to learn to survive here. Got it? Or else, I’ll kill you, and kill myself after!” 

His eyes go impossibly wide at the last statement and he cowers from you, neck shrinking into his shoulders as he stutters. “O-o-okay, no need to get violent. Jeez.” 

You toss your neck, marching away towards the festivities, smiling. This was going to be a piece of cake. 

Settling into your new home is easy. Your villagers help to build a new section on your square of land, in order to create a private separate section for you and Jungkook. Although he seems complains through most of it, he helps you, your father, and the rest of the villagers plummage through the forest for wood and timber, and carries it back all the way and helps the rest of the men build the structures. 

The room that is eventually built is large enough to house the both of you comfortably, and the ladies in your town had graciously gifted you a set of beautiful blankets for you to share. 

You and Jungkook stare down at the set of blankets neatly laid down with two pillows, side by side. 

“There is absolutely no way that I will sleep in the same bed as you,” he declares. “I will take the new blankets. You may sleep in that corner as to not collect suspicion from the villagers regarding our marriage.

You gape at him. “Seriously? You’re saying that I should sleep on the cold, hard floor while you get the cushy new blankets? A man should be offering the better position to the woman!” 

He frowns at you. “You are to me neither a wife nor a woman. It is only through our agreement that you are somewhat a partner to me, and nowhere in the contract is it states that I must betray my comfort for your convenience.” 

You roll your eyes, and you argue back and forth until you’re about to rip your hair out. 

“Ugh, fine!” You yell, throwing open the closet doors as you fish out your old blankets. You throw them in the corner, and settle in them as you see Jungkook happily skip over to his set and pull the covers all the way up to his chest with a content smile. 

Despite the villagers’ generosity and their help with everything, the extra mouth that you need to feed begins to take a toll on you and your father’s expenses after a few weeks. Before the wedding, you had been making just enough to feed yourself and your father. You’d run odd jobs, such as deliveries or serving food at a local restaurant while your father worked as a carpenter. But Jungkook ate and ate and ate. 

You and your father watch in disgust as Jungkook gobbles down the entire plate of food you’d prepared in minutes. Initially, you’d fought about the food, too. 

“What is this?!” He exclaims, holding up the fish you’d cooked with his chopsticks in disgust, “This tiny monstrosity?! I’ve never even seen a fish this small!” 

You’re unimpressed as you continue to shovel the plain rice that you’d made today into your mouth. “Shut up and eat what you’re given,” you mutter. But he doesn’t stop. 

“I demand that you bring me meat. Like from the wedding! Little did I know that you people eat these insect-looking despicable dishes, if I knew, I would not have agreed!” He continues to rant until you’re fed up too. 

You grab your chopsticks, whipping them up and snatching the fish from his. In one mouthful, the fish is shoved into your own mouth and gulped down. He watches you in shock. You snatch his bowl of rice as well, emptying it into your mouth as you chew loudly and quickly, washing it down with a cup of water. After you swallow, you burp loudly, and smile at him. 

“If you don’t want to eat it, then don’t!” You drop the smile and clear the dishes, throwing them in the sink. 

“What about my dinner?!” He cries, “I just spent the whole day lugging heavy wood on my back, and this is what I’m given?!” 

You sneer back, “Then learn to eat what’s given, Jungkook!” 

After that fiasco, he’d never complained about your food again. But now the problem was, he ate too much. 

“May I have one more?” He says, holding his empty bowl out to you, and you gawk at him. 

“That’s your third bowl, Jungkook. We don’t have any more.” 

He frowns, swallowing his food and pouting. “I want more food, though.” 

You roll your eyes. “If you’re going to eat so much, then get a job! We need to continue to pay rent and you sitting around here all day is doing nothing!” 

He shakes his head. “I refuse. Although I can’t remember much, what I do remember is that I have never been forced to do any sort of labor. And that won’t change now either.” 

You face him with a sly look. “If you don’t work, then I won’t make you food. It’s simple.” 

He drops the haughty expression. “Fine. What can I do?” 

You start off with the easy stuff. Eunwoo gets Jungkook a job as a water carrier for the town. They had to climb the mountains afoot with a yoke centered on their shoulders, either side hung with a heavy clay pot that was to be filled with the clean upstream river water and then returned to the towns people. 

Jungkook pants and huffs as he climbs the hills. He feels the burn in his thighs, but he grits his teeth at the thought of being able to eat some more good food. He’d admit, although the ingredients that you worked with were less than amazing, the way you’d learned to pair them with specific vegetables that you grew personally in the yard or with spices that you’d created yourself had created in him quite an appetite for the food that you made. 

He follows in Eunwoo’s footsteps as the road gets less steep and they pause to take a breather. Eunwoo wipes his sweat with a smile. 

Jungkook mutters, “How are you so happy all the time?” 

Eunwoo leans on a rock as he passes his smaller jug of water over to Jungkook. “How can I be unhappy? I have a beautiful wife, a house to live in, and a series of jobs that bring in enough money for me to be fed. What more should I desire?” He turns to Jungkook. 

Jungkook silently hands over the jug. “Wouldn’t you want a bigger house, some better clothes, or to move into a town that’s better than this one?” 

Eunwoo laughs. “I suppose for someone like you who’s been to the military as a warrior, you were paid quite nicely and given great amenities, but I was born humble and plan to die humble. Jisoo is one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been granted as a man, and I plan to live fruitfully and responsibly so that I may provide for her and treat her as she deserves to be treated.” 

Jungkook follows Eunwoo’s suit as he stands and picks up the jugs again on his shoulders. Do I feel that way about y/n? Is it wrong that I don’t have any of that for myself towards her? 

His thoughts are cut off when Eunwoo calls out, “We’re almost there! Just ahead, you can hear the brook!” 

Jungkook almost jumps for joy when he arrives at the riverbed, the brook babbling brightly as the clear water streams downhill. He and Eunwoo laugh as they use the cold, fresh water to clean off their hands and faces of sweat, and begin filling their jugs with the water. The creek is beautiful; there are trees overcast that slightly give some shade, while still giving way to the bright blue sky overhead. There are a few birds that chitter and jump from tree to tree while Jungkook and Eunwoo take a breather. There are some beautiful yellow flowers that stud the other bank across the river. Jungkook wonders if maybe that may lead to the yellow flower fields where you’d told him to say you two met. 

Both of them grunt as they feel the weight of the water weighing down on their shoulders, but don’t say a word as they begin the trek down the mountain. 

Suddenly, Eunwoo pauses, and Jungkook stops. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Eunwoo tips his head as he looks around, listening for sounds. “Wait a second, someone is coming.” 

Like clockwork, Jungkook suddenly hears the distant sound of horses galloping, and they continue toward the sound until they can hear the small group of officials approaching them. 

“Halt!” One of them calls, and when he dismounts from his horse, Jungkook can see that it was the official that had once threatened you a few weeks back, before the wedding. 

“Oh, Jungkook, I see!” The official recognizes, and Jungkook dismounts the jugs from his shoulders to face the official. “I see you’re now a married man, and working hard to provide for the missus at home, yes?” 

Jungkook nods solemnly. 

“Well, we are just checking the premises for intruders. We’ve heard that there have been some muggings in the vicinity, so be on your merry way. Just be careful.” The official smiles and gets on his horse, signaling for the others to follow. As they gallop off, Jungkook narrows his eyes at the emblem engraved on the base of the official’s sword. 

Suddenly, he feels a sharp pain in his head. 

A rustle sounds from near him, and then a shout, and then aching pain in his shoulder. A sword is pointed at him, and he is able to just catch the emblem engraved on the hilt before it’s raised high and whipping towards him.

The flashback ends and Jungkook yells out a strangled cry as he falls towards the ground. 

Eunwoo takes off his yoke and runs back towards Jungkook, shocked and yelling, “Jungkook! Jungkook! Are you alright? Can you hear me?! Jungkook!” 

Jungkook can only see a glimpse of the blue sky above him before everything goes black. 

You’re at home, weaving some baskets as a job from the lady at the market when suddenly you hear distant shouts and galloping. Frowning, you drop the basket and make your way over to the gate of your house, peering over the wood to see what the commotion is all about. But the sound continues to approach, and to your surprise, you see government officials approaching with Jungkook on the back of a horse. 

Eyes widening, you throw open your gate and walk up to the official whom you recognize to be the one who’d dealt with you before. 

He gets off his horse, and Eunwoo dismounts another as they both carry Jungkook into your home. 

“What’s wrong?! What’s wrong with him?!” You cry, and Eunwoo looks at you worriedly. “I don’t know! We were carrying water back to the village when suddenly he starting screaming and then fell to the ground unconscious! Thankfully the officials were nearby when he did, so they were able to bring us back.” 

There’s a crowd of people waiting in your gate entrance, trying to peek at what’s going on. You turn to the official. 

He eyes you, “I remember you. I see that you’ve followed the law and gotten married. I’m sorry that I had to bring your husband in like this. My name is Jimin.” 

You shake your head. “It’s fine, what’s wrong?” 

Jimin shrugs. “I believe that it may be an affect of overwork? I’m not sure. You may need to consult a doctor if he doesn’t wake up soon.” 

You scoff, “He hasn’t worked before! How can it be of overwork?!” 

He shrugs again. “It is up to you, madame, but please do keep in mind that the jugs he was using were broken when he fell, and so you know owe the town money to make up for the loss.”

Your shoulders sag at the comment as the official rides away with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m just doing my job.” 

You nod at him, smiling weakly. “I understand. Thank you, sir.” 

He tips his hat to you, and before he rides away says, “You know, I’ve never met someone like you before. You remind me a lot of someone I used to know. I believe you and your husband will get through this. Good luck.” 

He rides off and you return to your room as the rest of the villagers disperse. Sighing, you sit next to Jungkook’s sleeping figure and check his pulse and put your finger under his nose to make sure he’s still breathing. Although his wounds from before had healed, he had another fresh scratch on his cheek now, you assume from the fall. 

Blinking back tears, you find some clean rags and begin cleaning the cut, gently placing a bandage on it. 

There was no god. There was no such thing as luck. You had just nearly escaped death by marrying a man you didn’t even know, and now you were in more debt than ever. This wasn’t easy at all. You wipe away tears of frustration as you watch Jungkook sleep, and eventually the exhaustion from the day becomes too much as you close your eyes too. 

Jungkook wakes up to a dark room, and a searing pain in behind his eyes. Wincing, he groans as he turns his head to the side, and stops when he sees you curled up next to him on the cold floor. You have one arm tucked underneath your head and your knees are curled up towards your chest in a form of warmth. He glances to your side to see that the first aid kit of bandages had been opened and a bowl of water and rags for his forehead. 

He turns to his side, the headache a little duller as he focuses on your features. You were quite beautiful, he thinks to himself. Not a traditional, eye-catching beauty like Jisoo’s, but a simple kind of beauty that shone through in moments like these. 

Now that you’re sleeping and not frowning or yelling at him, he sees that your eyes are quite soft, your brows framing them nicely and your skin quite smooth. Your lips soft-looking and your cheeks quite supple. You were quite cute, he thinks to himself with a slight smile. 

You seem to be having nightmares, as you suddenly shudder in your sleep and frown, a deep line setting in between your brows. He reaches out, pressing a thumb lightly to the space, and immediately, your expression softens, as you subconsciously inch closer for some warmth. He takes the blanket that’s placed over him and throws it over you, and faces you as you curl into the warmth. 

He reaches out a hand and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. The headache no longer bothers him anymore. 

You wake up to the sounds of the rooster crowing and some kind of weight on your chest. When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is the face of Jungkook, and the second thing you notice is that you’re only inches away from him, his arm thrown over your shoulders as you’re cuddled up to his torso. 

With a yelp, you jump back, and that seems to wake him up. “What are you doing?!” You yell, covering your chest with your arms. “Why are we sleeping together?!” 

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and faces you with a funny expression. “You’re the one who fell asleep here next to me.” 

You frown, reaching out a putting a hand on his forehead. He slaps it away and you recoil with an eyeroll. “Are you feeling okay?” You ask, looking into his eyes to make sure he’s okay. 

He frowns. “Why am I here?” 

You sigh, leaning back against the wall. “You fell, remember? You fainted while carrying back jugs of water.” 

He frowns again, hands raking over his face. “Yes, I think I remember now...” 

You scoff. “Did you do it on purpose?” 

He turns towards you with an incredulous look. “Excuse me?” 

Crossing your arms, you face him with a hard look. “You’ve been complaining about labor ever since the day we got married. Don’t think for a second that I believe you actually passed out up there. You were fine when carrying down wood for the house. Why did you suddenly faint? You pretended so that you wouldn’t have to work, right?!” 

He faces you with wide eyes that have a tinge of anger. You’ve never seen him with that expression before. “How dare you accuse me of pretending to faint! I had a sudden headache and then I felt myself lose balance, how could you--” 

“Oh, you felt yourself lose balance? Huh?” You mock him, “Well look where it’s gotten us. You may have spent the whole day resting, but you’ve gotten us twenty more nyangs in debt than we already are, especially since you’ve already wasted all our savings on your goddamned food!” 

You stand, gathering the first aid kit and the bowl of water. Glaring back at him, you mutter, “I should have just died back then,” and slam the door shut behind you. Jungkook sighs, raking his hand over his face. 

First it was the random memory, and then now, this. It was far from over. 

For the next few days, Jungkook can’t seem to find you. You’ve completely disappeared, and no matter who he asks, he can’t seem to figure out where you’ve gone. Even your father is as confused as he is. 

Jungkook mutters to himself as he tries his best to figure out how the stove works, as it seems your father has no idea either. This week had been particularly tough, as Jungkook had to figure out when to water the plants, go get the water from the stream again with Eunwoo, clean the stables, retreive eggs from the chickens without getting his eyes clawed out, and prepare meals for himself and your father in the meantime. His back hurt like crazy, and he’d also almost gotten kicked in the arm earlier by accidentally trying to milk a male cow. He was absolutely at his wits’ end. 

Eunwoo stops by with a sheepish smile. “Jisoo offered to prepare you some fried cakes, would you like some?” Jungkook graciously accepts and Eunwoo sits next to your father as Jungkook continues muttering to himself, trying to put more kindling into the fire underneath the iron stove and poking it with a stick. “Just wait a little longer friend,” Eunwoo calls out, “Jisoo is returning soon from the market and said she’d stop by.” 

Finally, she arrives, with a big smile on her face and a package of some sorts. She greets her husband with a shy kiss. Jungkook watches as they giggle into the kiss, before Jisoo breaks apart and bounds over to Jungkook and revealing what she has. Jungkook almost falls into the fire when he sees what she’s holding. 

“Oh my! Get that out of my face!” He cries, falling backward and scrambling away from the thing. 

She frowns, “But Jungkook, you’ve been asking for fish ever since you got here. I found some fresh bass for you, for a great price at the market! We can finally have some good fish tonight!” 

Jungkook frowns at the slimy thing. It’s still alive, gills gaping for air as its eyes bulge ugly out its head and its tail still squirming about. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds back a gag. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” he wheezes. 

Jisoo rolls her eyes. “Can you prepare it so that I can cook it? Usually the men do that here.” 

Jungkook shakes his head no, and Eunwoo sighs, standing up and approaching them. “Here, let me help,” he says, crouching down next to the both of them and demonstrating as he retreives the kitchen knife from the counter, the same knife Jungkook had spent the entire afternoon looking for. 

He smiles at Jungkook, ever still the innocent one. “First, you have to kill it the most painless way possible, while removing the blood. You take the blade, place it under here, where the neck meets the body, and---” 

The moment Eunwoo slices the fish, Jungkook passes out again. 

“Jungkook, Jungkook!” Jisoo shakes him awake, sighing at his form. “You fainted again. But in the meantime, Eunwoo and I prepared some food for you. Hopefully you’re okay with seeing fish in an edible form. Come eat.” 

Jungkook joins them on the table and carefully lifts the table cover, sighing in relief when instead of a live fish, he sees Jisoo’s carefully cooked dinner waiting for him to eat. “Oh thank god,” he mutters, picking up his chopsticks. He happily thanks her, digging in and smiling at the taste. 

One thing he notes, is that Jisoo tends to oversalt her fish. He thinks to himself that he quite misses your cooking. 

“So Jisoo, what brings you here?” He asks, and she looks up at him with a confused expression. 

“Y/n asked me to cook you guys a meal or two while she was gone. She didn’t tell you?” 

Jungkook frowns. “I have no idea where she’s gone. I thought she’d run away because she didn’t want to have me for a husband.” 

Jisoo laughs. “No, she’ll be back. She didn’t tell me what she was doing, but she often disappears once every month for a couple days. In fact, I think that’s her coming!” 

She stands and all the men’s eyes follow as Jisoo runs to the gate, and you return, dressed in the most beautiful gown Jungkook has ever seen you in. 

It’s a beautiful soft pink, adorned with flowers and he watches you in awe as you put on a big smile and throw your arms around Jisoo in greeting. You greet your father, and when you meet his eyes, Jungkook perks up, putting on a tiny smile as he expects you to return the smile. 

But instead, you frown and just greet Eunwoo, ignoring Jungkook as you stalk back out of the gate. Jungkook jumps up, running over to follow you. 

“Where have you been!” He demands, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. He’s breathing heavily, and his brows are furrowed as he continues to yell. “What kind of a wife leaves her husband for days without telling him where she’s gone! Did you know how worr--” He cuts himself off, blinking at his own words. 

You frown at him. “You were worried?” You cock your head at him, and he clears his throat. 

“No,” he blurts, glaring at nothing in particular. “It made me very.....uncomfortable.” 

You roll your eyes, yanking your arm out of his grip. “You make me quite uncomfortable too, got that? Because of your stupidity, I had to go work on a job for a few days to earn enough money to pay off those jugs that you broke, and made a little more to feed us for the next couple of days.” 

He frowns, “Why would you do that?” 

You give him a scoff. “Seriously? Of course I have to do this, you don’t want to work, my father isn’t making any money right now, and we’re in debt. What do you mean why?” 

“I thought you’d left me,” he says, blinking up at you and instead of the angry expression he was sporting earlier, he seems a bit softer now, a bit poutier even. 

You sigh, “Unfortunately, I can’t just up and leave because we have a contract to uphold.” 

He tugs at your skirt. “Where did you get these nice clothes?” 

Turning, you give him a smile, and Jungkook has to keep himself from smiling back. “Aren’t these beautiful? They were a gift!” 

He frowns. “A gift? From who?” 

“The general.” 

Jungkook’s fist tightens. “The general? You mean the man who you refused to marry? The work you did was for him?” 

You purse your lips. “I know how it sounds, but despite the obvious pervertedness, he still has quite an influence on our town and the only way to make enough money to cover the jugs that you broke was to help serve food at his birthday celebration.” 

Jungkook grits his teeth. “Is that why you’re wearing makeup?” 

You’re shocked that he noticed. Earlier today, one of the other waitresses that you’d been working with had offered the girls some of her own blush and lipstick, saying that when you wore some color, the officials were more likely to give bigger tips. And she was right. You’d earned enough to feed your family for a month and to cover Jungkook’s mistake. 

Shrugging, you nod. “Yes?” 

The angry expression sets in his features again. “You shall not wear makeup for that man again. This is an order.” 

You laugh at his words. “What? Are you seriously ordering me around? Why, are you jealous or something?” 

He frowns. “If these emotions running through me right now are called being ‘jealous,’ then so be it. I hate the thought of that man looking at you with makeup on and a beautiful dress and giving you money thinking that it might be a way for him to get his disgusting hands on you. You are my wife!” 

You’re shocked at his outburst, your mind completely going blank. You do what you do best, which is to bark back a retort. “Well, I wouldn’t have had to do this if it weren’t for you--” 

Jungkook leans in, cutting you off with a searing kiss. He does’t quite remember if he’s had any experience with any other women, but his body seems to recognize this. He just didn’t know how else to shut you up. He holds your waist close as he leans into you, your smell enveloping his senses as he opens his mouth to slot his lips in between yours. 

You fall silent, eyes wide as he steps closer and his tongue flicks against your lower lip quickly before he detaches from you. He first smirks at your shocked expression, and presses his lips together. “Mm,” he comments, “tastes sweet.” At your horrified expression, he leans in to wipe the corner of your mouth, successfully erasing the remnants of the color left on your lips. 

“There we go,” he quips. And leans back. When you take a breath to yell out whatever curses there are in the world at him, he stops you and goes first. 

“We may be in a contract marriage, but Term 3 clearly states that we must uphold the appearances in order to look like a married couple. You shouldn’t act like you’re single in front of that pervert in order to make up for my mistakes. For what you did I’m grateful, and I owe you a debt, but in the future, I’d like it if you would not submit yourself to those things. You are above those things.” 

You watch him silently as he continues. “Let me find out what kind of work I can do. I do not want you to be hurt anymore or have to worry about money again. I will uphold my part of the agreement.” 

He turns and walks back into the house as you watch in shock. 

You press a hand to your chest. What was this fluttering feeling for? 

Spring fades into summer as the two of you continue on living. Jungkook continues to work odd jobs here and there, and manages to make enough money to support the three of you comfortably. You’re able to start patching up the holes in the roof and the stables, and buy new clothes for yourself and Jungkook to wear comfortably. You two never speak of the kiss again, but you find that the both of you settle into a comfortable pattern of life and work. 

Towards the end of the season when the days seem to start getting cooler, one of the marketplace workers notices how hard Jungkook works, and offers him a job at the local bookstore. You and Jungkook squeal in delight at the amount that he’s making, and later to more delight, discover that he can also make much, much more transcribing books by hand for the local bookstore. So in the mornings, Jungkook goes and helps as a bookkeeper, and returns later in the afternoon to eat his dinner and the both of you work on transcribing books together. 

He teaches you to write better. Ever since you’d run away from home as a little girl, life in the village didn’t really grant you a lot of experience to continue practicing your writing. It was good, but not great. So night after night, Jungkook patiently watches you painstakingly use the brush to transcribe the stories that were the most popular. 

Together, you’d begun from novels about dragons and fairies, and when the vendor was quite pleased with how neatly the books were written, you and Jungkook were given more tasks to do, including transcribing some political and economic books. 

As the months passed, this became sort of a routine, as you’d begun using the money now to buy better ingredients for the meals you made for him at the market. Your home had now been patched up and upgraded as best as you could, and you’d bought a few more chickens and had gifted your father a new set of clothes and warm blankets. Jungkook seemed content with his now more comfortable set of new clothes and the hefty meals you prepared. Life was beginning to settle and improve. 

Jungkook frowns as he transcribes one night, “Hm,” he muses, “The King has decreed that his next youngest son shall be the next King.” 

You scoot closer to him to read what he’s looking at. You hum, “Interesting, I wonder if that will improve anything.” 

He looks at you, “What do you mean?” 

You shrug, resuming your own transcription. “Whenever the royals shuffle amongst themselves, or the generals and officials fight for the throne, it doesn’t really seem to affect us or benefit us.” 

Jungkook frowns, staring down at the announcement he was asked to reproduce. “I read in the political books I transcribed that the morals that this country was founded upon were that the King and the government must be of the people, for the people.” 

Sighing, you stare down at the political text you’d been copying. It spoke of the same values. “I know. It would be nice if we could return to a time like that, no? But unfortunately, while people like us are struggling to make ends meet and jumping for joy at the opportunity to patch up our roof, there are the royals who sit on their throne and are planning what their next party will be like, or what country they want to conquer. We are of different worlds, and it has been ages since we’ve had a King who truly cares for the people.”

Jungkook sighs. “If I were King, I would immediately do away with those stupid parties. And those disgusting men who sit in their positions without doing anything.” 

You smile at him, “Like that pig who has six concubines?”

He laughs, “Exactly like him.” You laugh back, and Jungkook has to pause for a second, as he catches himself staring at your expression in the candlelight. 

But you see him before he can stop himself, and you ask, “What, is there something on my face?” 

Jungkook sets down his brush. “You’re quite beautiful when you smile. Why don’t you do that more often?” 

Your smile falls as you coldly return to your transcription. Jungkook curses himself for asking you a question that removed the smile from your face. He also silently returns to his work, unsure of what to say next. 

“I’m not my father’s daughter, you know.” 

Jungkook’s hand pauses in his calligraphy, but he doesn’t say anything and just looks up at you as you continue in your own writing. You don’t look up to him and continue speaking. 

“I had to run, far, far away from my real home. My parents were murdered by some people, and my brother and I hid in the forest until the men were gone. I was supposed to meet my brother on the bridge near the river, but he never came back to get me.” 

“So I ran, far away, where they can’t find me and where they gave up trying to look for me. I eventually swam down the river and was found by my father, now. And even though I return to that bridge secretly every month when the moon is at its fullest, he’s never shown for the past twenty years. Although life has gotten a little better with you, I can’t say that my life was a good one, nor will it be. I’ll always be an orphan and I’ll always be the one who lost her family. So it seems that more often than not I find myself feeling sad sometimes.” 

You feel a tear roll down your cheek. It’s been a while since you shared that with anyone. The only ones being your own father and Jisoo. Suddenly, you hear him arise from his seated position near you and in moments he’s gripping you close, cradling your head close to his chest as he hugs you. 

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, and you feel it within his chest. The warmth is comforting, and you lift your hands to settle on his broad back. “Why do you say that you have no family? I read in a poem I transcribed that family is not defined by bloodlines nor wealth, but in the love and care we have for eachother. Your father loves you, and so do Jisoo and Eunwoo. And I am your family as well.” 

Your tears fall a little faster at that. A dull ache beats in the pit of your chest as he continues. “I am your husband. Jisoo and Eunwoo are our friends. Your father is my father-in-law. We are a family.” 

You sob louder in his arms and he murmurs more sweet words as he rocks you and shushes you. But the reason why you cry isn’t because he’s healing all your wounds, but because he’s healing your wounds with promises you know he can’t keep. 

He was your husband for only one year, and it’s already passed a few months, into the Autumn, which meant that its been halfway. He had no idea when he would regain his memories back, or who he was. For all you knew, he could be a general’s son, destined to go into glorious battles and lead his troops into war for the sake of the country. Or he could be a son of someone who works in the Castle, or a royal even. 

Anywho, whichever house he belonged to, it would be millions of times better than now, and you knew that he would leave without even a glance back. It was in anyone’s nature. 

So as he continues to make promises, you let him hold you a little longer, because you know that this will all come to an end someday. You apologize to whatever god is out there. You’d never been selfish. You’d always worked hard to feed and fend for your family. 

So you make one, single, selfish wish. 

I wish I could stay like this forever, and that he won’t leave me. 

Before the autumn ends, Jungkook returns one day with a tree.

“What the heck?!” You cry, as him and Eunwoo grunt with the effort of carrying the thing off the truck and burying it into the entrance of your home. “What are you doing?!”

Jungkook smiles, shoveling the dirt back into the roots. “I bought us a tree.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I can see that, but why?!”

He laughs, leaning on the shovel and laughing boyishly at you. “Look!”

He points up and although most of the branches have succumbed to the autumn weather and turned their leaves red and orange and yellow, you can see the buds of the flowers peeking through. Yellow flowers.

“Remember?” Jungkook says, wiping the sweat off his brow, “We met here, in the fields of yellow flowers.” He wiggles his brows at you.

Your heart sinks at the memory of the lie you’d told him to recite to others.

“Why?” You ask softly.

He softens at your expression approaching you and rubbing your arms. “Oh, don’t be sad. It was just so beautiful I wanted to put it here. I thought you’d like it. It’s our little inside secret.”

You blink away the tears. Why was he so kind? It made it harder to distinguish what was real and what wasn’t. 

Jungkook’s heart sinks when he sees you go back into the house with slumped shoulders. He really thought you would like it.

You did like it. You loved it. That was the problem. 

You’d counted the months that had passed since your agreement, and it had been more than half a year. That quickly, life had become so adjusted to having Jungkook around, you didn’t know how to distinguish what was real or not. 

But deep down, you knew that the pang in your chest everytime he smiled at you, or the worrying feeling deep in your gut everytime he arrived home late all indicated that you indeed had developed a deep sense of...emotion for your husband. 

You were just too scared to admit it was love. 

Because for you, everytime you had fallen in love or let yourself feel love, those people or things had been taken away from you. Your only wish was that Jungkook wouldn’t be taken away. But that in itself was quite the selfish wish. He really could have been betrothed to someone out there, and there might be a woman like you, waiting for her husband to return home achingly. 

You would never wish that upon someone. 

But you can’t ignore the pain that settles in your heart when you imagine Jungkook returning home to any other woman besides yourself.

Later that week, Jungkook is taking his daily walk to the bookstore, when he pauses at the sight of a woman putting out her daily goods. She seems to own a female’s clothing store, and in the front of her display, she proudly puts a series of colorful shoes that catch his eye.

He approaches the stall, and the kind lady greets him with a smile. “Looking for a present for your wife?”

He nods, “Yes. I don’t know her taste, however.”

She laughs, “My dear, you don’t know a thing about women. It isn’t what you’re buying her. It’s that you’re buying something for her at all. Tell me a little about her.”

He muses, folding his hands behind his back. “Well, she’s about yeh tall, and seems to be a healthy weight. She always has her hair up in a--”

The lady laughs again. “No, not her features. Her personality. Tell me about her.”

Jungkook pauses, blinking down at his feet as he thinks.

“Well, first, she’s very strong. Not as in she can lift heavy things, because she can’t. I know, because she asks me to do them for her and I like doing them. But she’s strong in that I’ve never met anyone else who is as confident and fearless as she is. When I first met her, she was literally staring into the eyes of her own death without blinking. I admire that. She has no fear.”

“She’s also really kind. Underneath that fearlessness, she’s very attentive. She notices what I like to eat and don’t like to eat, and sometimes when I come home in a bad mood, she’ll do her best to prepare me a nice warm bath and extra servings of food.”

“And she’s also very delicate. She may hate to think that, but I love that underneath that hard shell, is a soft inner shell that’s kind and soft and pure. I love seeing glimpses of that while living as her husband.”

Jungkook looks up at the woman as he finishes. She has a knowing smile on her face.

“Well, dear, looks like we have a man here who’s desperately in love with his wife. For you, I’d recommend these.”

She points towards a pair of beautiful pink slippers, adorned with drawings of cherry blossoms and threaded with deep maroon thread that seemed to glisten in the sun. He smiles. They would look perfect on you.

“How much?” He asks.

She laughs, putting the shoes in a package for him. “I usually try to charge a bit more in order to make some money off of the sale, but I bought these for 10 nyangs, so I only ask for 10.”

He frowns, “Are you sure ma’am? You’d be making no profit...”

She smiles, handing over the package to him. “I’m sure. You remind me of me and my husband. That’s true love right there.”

Jungkook hands over the money with a solemn expression. “True love?”

She smiles. “Yes, dear. The kind of love that makes you fearless, the kind of selfless love. A love that you would die for. You seem young so you might be of the generation that had to marry on such short notice, but I can tell by the way you talk about her that you care for her very deeply. Only men who love their wives can talk like that. I’m happy for you. Now go and give her those shoes.”

Jungkook stares at the shoes as he walks towards the bookstore.

True love? Was it true that he’d fallen for you? He tucks them into his pocket.

Needing to think about that conversation more, he keeps the shoes in the bookstore and returns home without the present.

Jungkook watches you light up when he enters the gates in the evening, and you smile at him, gesturing to the table of food you’d prepared. “Jungkook!” You exclaim, bounding up to him, “How was work?”

“Good,” he sighs, falling into step with you as you guide him to where you’ve prepared dinner. “I’m hungry,” he smiles.

You return the smile brightly, and unveil the meal you’d prepared. “I made the fried cakes you like, and the kimchi is seasoned just right today. And I found some fresh fish at the market today, so Jisoo and I bought two to prepare for you and Eunwoo. We figured we’d treat our husbands to something nice and fattening, so that when the winter comes, you have some meat on your bones.”

Our husband. He likes the ring of that.

He digs in, listening attentively as you tell him about the town gossip, and of what happened in your day, and he reciprocates, sharing stories of the strange customers that frequented the bookstore.

When he’s finished eating, you stand to clear away his dishes, but he stops you, smiling as he takes his own dishes to the basin. “I’ll clean, you should rest.”

You smile at him and watch as he turns to clean the dishes, stacking them neatly as he finishes them one by one. When he’s finished, he joins you on your porch, as you both lean against the house and watch the stars.

The lantern beautifully lights up the underside of the tree that he’d bought, and the stars against the beautiful night sky makes this a scene that takes his breath away.

The wind blows a bit colder tonight, and when he sees you shudder, he lets you lean against him as he curls an arm around you. The both of you fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the stars.

“What are you thinking about?” He murmurs, watching your face lit up by the warm candlelight as you watch the sky.

You have a small smile on your lips as you gaze. “Just about how happy I am right now. I really like the tree, I wish I told you earlier.”

Jungkook smiles, looking at you knowingly. “I thought you didn’t like it cause it was a waste of our money.”

You turn to him with wide eyes, “No, no, that’s not it.” You chuckle, “I like it very much, thank you.”

Jungkook lets you settle back into his warmth as you both continue to look at the stars. His eyes drift downward to the tree, which is fluttering slightly in the wind. The leaves are beginning to fall. His eyes continue to trail downward, and he rests on your feet, and how the hemp straw shoes that you wore were beginning to fall apart a bit at the sides.

He bites his lip. It was still a bit longer until the streets would close. Maybe he had a little bit of time.

He stands, holding a hand out to you, “Will you come with me somewhere?”

You take his hand, confusedly following as he makes a beeline for the gate. “Where are we going?  At this time in the evening?”

He doesn’t reply as he continues down the road towards the market, stalking quickly and determinedly towards the bookstore. Your cheeks flame at the fact that his hand is tightly wrapped around yours.

“Did you forget to bring some books back from the bookstore?” You ask, struggling to keep up, but when he arrives at the store, he faces you.

“Sit here,” he instructs, and you confusedly take a seat in front of the store as he unlocks the door and rummages around for something. “Aha!” He cries from inside, and you crane your neck to try and peer into the store, but he calls out, “close your eyes!” from inside.

You frown, yelling back, “Why?”

He yells back, “I’m not coming out until you promise to keep your eyes closed.”

You laugh a little, but reply, “Okay, fine!” And close your eyes.

You hear him peep out to check if you were telling the truth, and then after confirming that you were, indeed, closing your eyes as you’d promised, he shuffles out towards you.

You hear him kneel in front of you, and suddenly, he grips your ankle and takes your straw shoes off. Your eyes fly open in shock and you gasp. “What’re you doing?”

He looks up at you with a soft smile. “You broke the promise, you were supposed to keep your eyes shut.”

You frown at him. “What?”

He shakes his head a little, but grins up at you anyways. “Well since you have your eyes open, you can watch me do this.”

He peels open a paper package to reveal two dainty shoes, pink and made with the finest fabrics and thread. He gently places one of them on your foot. A weight settles deep into your chest at the way he smiles at you after he’s done.

“I wanted to buy you something meaningful, not something for the house or something we can both enjoy like the tree, but something specifically for you. I saw these on my way to work today.”

Your eyes fill with tears as you look down at the way the shoes adorn your feet. It’s been years since you’ve been able to wear shoes like these. And these were perfect. Too perfect.

This was beginning to become too perfect. It scared you like hell. 

The next morning, you wake Jungkook up with a solemn expression, and he’s immediately worried. He’s become quite sensitive to your mood changes and emotions, and he can tell by the way you speak or the way you make your way around the kitchen that you have something on your mind. 

As he eats, you take a deep breath, and speak. 

“I think you should go with my father today and visit the river where he found you.” 

Jungkook stops with a mouthful of rice. “What?” 

“You should try to find your memory soon. Maybe going to the river may trigger your memory to come back again.” 

He sets his soon spoon, looking at you with a heavy expression. “And then? If I find my memories again?” 

You stare down at your hands, lip trembling a bit at the next part. “We agreed that if you found your memory, we would revisit the contract’s terms. But I thought it would be a good idea for you to at least try.” 

Jungkook sighs, as he glares at the tree and how the leaves are beginning to fall and create a pile of dead color on the ground. He had just gotten into a routine, feeling more and more content about staying here with you. He’d even had a moment last night when he’d wanted to confess that he’d fallen in love with you, and that he was considering just continuing to live here with you. 

But it seems like you had different ideas. 

He clears his throat, finishing off his cup of water. “Good idea,” he grits, squaring his shoulders. If this was what you wanted, then he would do anything for you. 

He stands. “Thank you for breakfast, I think if we are to find out something today, we should leave as soon as possible. I’ll go next door and let father know that we’ll be leaving soon.” He leaves without another word, nor a look in your direction. 

The tear that had been balancing on your lashes finally falls. 

This was all for his own good. 

Jungkook and your father begin a trip with a couple more townspeople who are trekking up the mountains to obtain some more water for the coming cold season. The villagers bring along some donkeys and horses to help carry the heavy jugs, while Jungkook and his partner are empty handed. Their mission wasn’t to find water, it was to find the truth. 

As they walk up the winding path, Jungkook and your father fall behind a bit as your father begins explaining some things here and there. 

“This path we’re on,” he whispers to Jungkook, “Is the path that I brought you down from the river. We’re almost there.”

“Father,” Jungkook murmurs, “What was I wearing when you found me? And where did you keep me?” 

His father-in-law cranes his neck as he looks at the direction the rest of the villagers were heading in. “Follow me,” he whispers, and heads towards the fork in the road and begins climbing a different road than the group. Jungkook follows, stumbling over rocks and tree roots as they climb into a different side of the road into a small clearing, where Jungkook can see a tiny series of huts sits, made of straw and wood. 

His father-in-law climbs into one of them, and knocks politely on the door. 

Immediately, it opens to reveal a very old man, who greets you father with a stern smile, and then settles his gaze on Jungkook. 

“Oh, you’re alive!” The grandpa exclaims. Jungkook confusedly asks, “I’m sorry, how do we know eachother?” 

Your father pipes up. “This is the mountain healer. He’s the one who helped nurse you back to health when I found you nearby. Here, look, I even kept the clothes that you were wearing when I found you.” The grandpa holds out a package for Jungkook, and he frowns, holding it close. 

He gives the healer a deep bow. “Thank you very much, I owe you my life.” 

The healer laughs, clapping Jungkook on the back. “Seems like you’ve recovered very well. You look quite healthy and strong.” 

Your father chuckles, “Actually, elder, we’ve come to re-visit you to inquire of some questions. Jungkook here still hasn’t found his memory, and we believe that it’s because of his injury that he’s not able to remember where he’s from or even what his previous name is. Do you remember anything while you were nursing him back to health?” 

The elderly healer frowns, as he cocks his head. Jungkook takes a seat next to him, leaning in to hear what he has to say. 

“I remember not much, but I do recall that you did talk a lot in your sleep when you were healing. You would sometimes burst into incoherent yelling, or sometimes talk with a stern voice.” 

Jungkook leans in. “What did I say?” 

“I don’t recall much, but I do remember you talking about the ‘Road that Winds to the East,’ whatever that means.” 

Jungkook frowns and turns to your father. “Does that mean anything, father?” 

He frowns too, “Well there are only a few main roads here in these woods, and most of them I know by heart. Elder, may I borrow your map?” 

He retreieves it from a cabinet as your father continues to speaking. “Look, this road that we just came in from leads to the North. The only road that would go from the East and West would be this one. But there’s no way...” 

“Why?” Jungkook asks. 

“That’s the road that leads to and from the Castle and the Capitol.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he stares at the road that indeed winds directly from the capitol towards the forest that he was found in. He’s about to ask the elder another question when suddenly, there’s a bit of commotion outside. 

Eunwoo barges into the hut, panting heavily as he wipes his sweat away. “Jungkook! Father! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! The group said that you’d broken off from them a bit back so I borrowed a horse and came here. You need to hurry! You need to go back!” 

Jungkook stands, frowning as he helps Eunwoo take a seat. “What’s wrong?!” 

Eunwoo stares up at Jungkook with eyes full of fear. “Y/N! She’s been taken! She’s in danger!” 

You’d spent most of the afternoon blinking and wiping away tears as you wove as many baskets as you could. But the moisture in your eyes prevented you from clearly seeing the needle you were working with, so your fingers were horribly sore and swollen by the time the sun was at its highest point. 

Sighing, you lean back and close your eyes, head heavy as you think of how Jungkook might not return today. 

Suddenly, you hear your gate being thrown open, as a group of men in dark colored, torn clothes enter your property. Immediately you stand, clenching your fists. “Who are you?!” 

The men ignore you, only one glancing your way as they begin to ransack your home, ignoring your screams. You flail and beat your fists against them as they tear open the doors of your new house, throwing the closet doors open and rustling through the clothes and blankets. Another destroys the chicken coop and another kicks the doors of your father’s place open and does the same to his belongings. 

“What are you doing!” You scream, crying as the men destroy in minutes what you and Jungkook had worked tirelessly to create and repair. “Stop! How dare you!” 

The ringleader gets tired of your screams and slaps you straight across your face. The impact and the shock makes you tumble back, hand held to the burning cheek in terror. “Shut up, bitch! We’ve gotten orders from the general officer that you and your husband owe him a debt. We’re here to collect on his orders.”

You scream back in shock. “That swine? I owe him nothing! What are you talking about?! I never borrowed anything from him!” 

One of his men emerges from your bedroom, holding up the pink dress that you and the other waitresses had been gifted after the idiot’s birthday party celebration. “Sir! Look what I found!” 

The ringleader smiles nastily down at you. “So you’re lying to me, eh? How does a poor woman like you afford a dress like this? And shoes like yours?” 

You look down at the shoes on your feet, now scuffed from the dirt when he’d hit you. “They were bought with our hard earned money! We have no fault!” You rush up to him and try to wrestle the dress out of his hands, but he’s stronger than you and grips your wrists as you struggle. Suddenly, you feel a searing pain on your back and everything goes black. 

When you come to, you panic at the feeling of your hands being immobile, and then you realize that the rest of your body is bound tightly against a tree trunk with some thick rope. 

You scream, struggling against the ropes, but the ringleader from earlier comes into your line of vision, smirking nastily as he surveys how you struggle. “We sent someone to go find your husband. Either he can bring us the money, or we can just sell you off to some hostels and get the money ourselves. It’s his choice.” 

Your eyes widen. “What?! My husband?!” 

He nods. “Hopefully he’ll come. I heard that the marriage was done last minute, but hopefully he loves you enough to know that the moment he refuses to comply to our terms, it’s over for the both of you.” 

He smiles at you, his disgusting breath fanning over your face as you glare in horror at him, “In fact,” he says, tilting his head and turning around, “here someone comes.” 

You hear it too, the sound of heavy horse steps beating the ground as you see Jungkook approaching on a horse that you’ve never seen before. You scream out as soon as he stops the animal, “No! Don’t come any closer! Run!” You struggle and wriggle against the bindings as much as you can, but the men have already surrounded the horse and your husband, and Jungkook dismounts easily, facing the men with a hard glare. 

He takes one look at you and gives you a nod as you cry and struggle against the rope, but it doesn’t give much slack. He reaches up into the saddle of the horse to pull out a long bamboo stick, and immediately lunges for one of the men. 

You watch in shock as he deftly uses the stick to go nimbly for the vulnerable parts of each man, crouching under the swing of their swords and using that moment to hit the stiff bamboo against their shins or their kneecaps, or using it to knock the air out of their lungs with a hard swing to their chest or shoulders. 

Jungkook uses a tree to jump off of as he hits a man on his head, and uses the dazed burglar as leverage to kick another in the chest. In that moment though, he stumbles to the ground, and the searing pain in his head returns again. 

A rustle sounds from near him, and then a shout, and then aching pain in his shoulder. A sword is pointed at him, and he is able to just catch the emblem engraved on the hilt before it’s raised high and whipping towards him.

It was exactly the same vision he’d had when he was getting water. But this time there was more. 

He raises his gaze and sees that the one who wields the sword has a gaze so sharp and fierce, that it takes his breath away. 

In the moment of distraction, one of the burglars manages to get his sword close enough to deliver a slice on Jungkook’s bicep. He cries out, stumbling as you scream his name, but he picks himself back up and charges towards the men.

He finishes them off one by one, and you watch in amazement and horror as your husband neatly lands on the ground with all the men groaning in pain. 

You see a movement in the corner of your eye and see that the ringleader is reaching over for his sword on the ground, and you cry, “Jungkook! Look out!” 

Jungkook turns, immediately catching sight of him and runs over, kicking the sword away and flipping it up with his feet. It lands neatly in his hand and he points the tip at the ringleader’s neck with a movement so fast you hear the sound of the sword slicing the air. Jungkook frowns. “You should probably leave, and never come back, now that I have a sword in my hands. I can do much more damage with this than I did with the bamboo stick.” 

The ringleader spits a mouthful of blood, and in seconds, him and his helpers scramble out of the woods, tail in between their legs as they limp away. 

When they’re all out of sigh, Jungkook immediately turns and runs over to you, using the sword to cut away all of the ropes. As soon as your hands are free, you lunge towards him, throwing your arms around his shoulders as you sob into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, “It’s all my fault, I should have never gone to that man’s birthday celebration. I should’ve never believed him,” and Jungkook just holds you close, his large hands spanning across your back as he presses you close to him. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he whispers, and he pulls back to survey your face. He softly ghosts a thumb over the red mark on your cheek, eyebrows furrowing at the mark. “Did he hit you?” 

You nod, hand coming up to cup the sore spot. His jaw grits, “I should’ve killed him.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Please, let’s just go home. I’ll be okay. What about your arm?” Your hands grab for him, and when you push up his sleeve, you see that the cut isn’t very deep, but it bleeds nonetheless, staining his clothes. 

Your eyes widen, tears brimming as you scramble to find the hem of your dress to tear a piece of fabric away, but he stops you, your hand enclosed in his fist. He gives you a gentle smile. “I’ll be okay, wife. Don’t ruin your clothes for this, either.”  

He helps you up and onto the back of his horse, and you lean into his back, arms clasped around his waist as he leads the both of you in the direction to where home is. You mutter in his ear. “When did you learn to ride a horse? And to fight like that?” 

Jungkook frowns, “I’m not sure. When I heard you were in danger, I just took the first and fastest thing I could find, which was Eunwoo’s horse. And then when I got here...I just didn’t think.” 

You rest your head on his shoulder blade. “If you know how to write, how to read, fight, and horseback ride, you must have been from an affluent family.” 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. He now realizes that in the hurry to get back to you, he’d dropped the package that contains the clothes he was found in. He hopes that either your father or Eunwoo had enough sense to bring it back home with them. He makes a different turn with the horse than the one you’re used to. 

“Where are we going?” 

He turns back to smile at you. “Do you trust me?” 

He rides for a little bit until he arrives at a meadow, and your eyes go wide at the scene. It’s the field of yellow flowers. Now that the autumn is almost over, the summer wild flowers are now receding from their full bloom, and the fields are now a beautiful golden color as the green begins to fade away into  a beautiful beige and yellow golden field. You gasp as Jungkook helps you dismount, and you marvel at the beautiful scene against the backdrop of the beautiful sunset. Everything was golden. 

His voice sounds from behind you. “You told me to tell others that you and I fell in love here in these fields.” 

You nod, still staring at the scene. “It was always a dream of mine, to fall in love in these fields. They’re absolutely beautiful.” 

You hear his footsteps approach, and he stands in front of you, in his beauty. “Can’t it become true?” 

Your eyes widen as your mouth drops slightly. “What? What are you talking about?” 

He reaches for your hand. “Today I realized, that that I am in love with you. At first, I wasn’t sure. I thought they might be feelings of filial love, out of duty or just a camaraderie from spending the past few months with you. But today, when I dropped everything in order to come for you, and when I saw you tied up to that tree with that bruise on your face, I couldn’t think or see anything. I knew that I had to save you. If it meant dying, then I knew in that moment that I would die fighting to protect you.” 

Your tears fall as your breath gets caught in your throat. He just smiles down softly at you. 

“Would it be so terrible, if we actually did fall in love in these fields?” He whispers, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Would it be so far from your dreams if I were to continue to be your husband?” 

You shake your head, and whisper, “No,” you hiccup, “it would be absolutely perfectly perfect,” before he leans down and captures your lips in his. 

Unlike the kiss you had earlier in the spring, this one is hungry, and desperate. He holds you to him like you might fade away, and his lips hungrily swipe across yours as if its a declaration, a mark of his true dedication to you. Your tears fall and he easily swipes them away with his thumbs as you clutch him and press yourself up against him as close as you can, breathing in his scent, feeling him, perfectly lined up against you. 

You both return and deal with the hysterics of your father, Eunwoo, and Jisoo. Some of the villagers have come to help you repatch the things that the burglars destroyed, and after they’re finished, the moon is high into the air and most of everything back to normal. You would have to pay to get some things re-done and patched up, but the selfless villagers had done more than enough to help you and Jungkook. 

While you and Jisoo go aside to prepare some dinner for everyone who helped, your father pulls Jungkook aside. 

“Here,” he says, handing Jungkook the paper package. “I brought this to give to you.” 

Jungkook thanks him as he stares meaningfully down at the package. Your father peers at him, “Aren’t you going to open it? What you were wearing might hold an important clue to who you were before all of this.” 

Jungkook smiles, clutching the package in his fist. “No, father.” He leads him over to the campfire in the center of the yard, and tosses the paper package into the flames. Both men watch as the package burns quickly, the sparks flying into the night sky. Jungkook murmurs only loud enough for your father to hear. “I would rather live as Y/n’s husband happily, than to go back to a past that I might not be as happy in.” He turns to the elder. “Father, I would like to ask for your daughter’s hand.” 

The elder man laughs, staring and sighing up at the sky. “My dear boy, I’ve thanked the gods every single day that you were the one I found. Even though it was only meant for a year, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy.” At those words, the two of them look over to you, who’s happily serving dishes to everyone who’d volunteered to help, laughing and smiling and drinking with them as they cheer and dig into the hefty dinner. 

Your father grips Jungkook’s hand in his. “All I ask is that you cherish her. She deserves it.”

Jungkook smiles. “I know, father. She does deserve it.” 

From the side, Eunwoo notices that Jungkook and your father murmuring to themselves quietly before joining the dinner table. When he returns from using the restroom, he sees something golden glinting within the glowing embers of the fire. 

Later that evening, after all the guests had left and your father had fallen asleep, you draw Jungkook a bath after you’d washed up yourself, and you wait as you stare up at the stars on your porch. 

Suddenly, you feel arms wrap around you from behind, and your soft gasp turns into a giggle as Jungkook presses his lips to your neck, tickling you. “Are you all done?” You whisper, and he nods, snuggling in closer to you. Your cheeks turn incredibly hot as you realize he’s not wearing a shirt and the arms around you and the chest pressed against you are bare. 

Your eyes drift down, and catch sight of the cut from earlier on his bicep. Turning in his embrace, you press a light kiss against his chin. “I need to dress your injury,” you say, and he glances down at it as if he’d forgotten, and you follow him into your bedroom. 

The candlelight does nothing to hide the hotness of your cheeks as he stares at you deeply as you clean and dress the wound. Once you’re all finished, you’re already breathing heavily under the heaviness of his gaze, and when you look up at him through your lashes, he smiles at the look on your face and leans in to press his lips against yours. 

They press against your mouth, letting you relax into him, and then he grips your waist, hoisting you up onto his lap as you gasp into the kiss. He takes that moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, licking softly against yours and tasting you as you steady yourself with hands on his bare shoulders. 

His hands grip you through your dress, but they drift upwards to where your top is, undoing the ribbon there easily and casting away the top layer. You pant as he leans in to press his lips against your neck and chest, the only thing you can hear right now is the flickering of the fire outside, the soft puckers of his lips against your skin, and the heavy pants you let out at the way his lips make your mind go completely blank. 

He peels back the white layer of your underdress, your breasts falling out from the constrictive material and his hands come to cup them worshippingly, his lips immediately kissing the soft skin there and then lowering to capture a nipple and suck lightly. 

You gasp and cry out at the sensation, feeling a wetness pool in between your legs at the sensation and grip the hair at the nape of his neck, pressing his heat closer to you. “Please,” you pant, “I can’t wait.” 

He chuckles against your skin, pulling back to smile up at your exasperated expression. “You’re so beautiful, I want to savor this,” he mutters, a hand coming up to tug your hair out of the bun you always wore it in, and the locks tumble out across your back. He threads his fingers through them softly, look at the view of you perched naked on his lap, trembling and lit up by the soft glow of the candlelight. 

He presses a kiss against your lips as his hands slide under your dress and between your thighs, fingers pressing questioningly into the wetness he finds there. 

You moan at the sensation, grinding against his fingers as they circle the pebble there that incites an incredible feeling of pleasure. He leans forward until you’re spread out on the sheets, naked and panting for him. 

It’s your time being touched by a man, but Jungkook makes it seem like it’s the last. He holds you delicately in a way you’ve never been held before, his narrow hips slotting in between your thighs as he whispers sweet nothings into your lips. He carves his name into your mouth with his tongue, panting impossible breaths into your neck as he presses himself deep into your center, pushing past the wetness and settling deep within your hips as he begins to rock against you, his hands sliding into yours. 

And as you moan and cry out his name, you’re completely and absolutely blown away by how exactly perfectly perfect it is. 

[wrightaboutthat]

Proposing a Duel ~A Narumitsu One-Shot~

Summary: Finally, after years of pining, years of waiting, is Phoenix prepared to propose to the love of his life. But with someone he parallels so intensely, nothing can ever be straightforward.

Tags: Marriage Proposal, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Arguing, Childhood Memories, they're so dumb, and bickering 5ever, but they're so incredibly in love your honor, and deserve intense happiness like this, also this is probably set in the aa5-6 timeline somewhere but Who's Counting

Additional Notes: Hello everyone! Finally managed to tackle and finish one of my 20+ Narumitsu drafts lol. I recognize that this is quite the common trope/plot with these two, but I'm of course shooting for a "yay, two cakes" situation! We simply cannot have enough proposal fics, and these two deserve all the happiness/sweetness in the world quite honestly. They're tired- let them REST.

Anyway, super excited to share this with you all, and I hope you enjoy!

You can also read the work on AO3 here [x]

It felt different. He felt different. There was a certain and light sweetness that seemed to be lingering in the air. There was a tender warmth that seemed to be burning between two forms. There was a magnetic tug that seemed to be pulling harder than usual.

Perhaps it was finally pulling towards the inevitable.

Phoenix’s breath caught in his throat at the very consideration. It had been so long after all. The entirety of his life had slowly led up to such a thing. But even still, he doubted his readiness, doubted his ability to proceed.

Though, looking at the man beside him easily dampened such doubts. Fear melted away into giddy nervousness, and worry softened into warm tingles.

Because it was Miles.

Miles.

A man who had evaded him for years. A man who had changed him for the better. A man who had beautifully fought for betterment all for his sake. A man who he’d do anything for.

A man he wanted to marry.

The direct utterance within his mind manifested a flushed smile, his head going woozy with adoration. Inevitable indeed; it felt so right to consider, so...perfect. He of course hoped his proposal would follow suit, that it would declare such deep admiration to the receiver. He wanted it to be just as wonderful as the very man-

“What is it?”

The murmured baritone snapped Phoenix from his honeyed thoughts, startling as he returned to the present.

“Huh?”

Though Miles’ stare remained trained ahead, Phoenix could still pick up on the tenderness that washed over his facial expression.

“You were staring quite intently, darling.”

The term of endearment, the tonality of his boyfriend’s voice, and the ginger facial expression did nothing to help his blush. The defense attorney’s cheeks were fiery, though his growing smile aided in the distribution of heat.

“Is that anything new? I always struggle to take my eyes off you.”

He watched with amusement as color struck Miles’ face to match, his expression crinkling into something of embarrassment.

“Nngh...” he quietly groaned, earning a chuckle from Phoenix before he continued, “Well, at least I’m the one driving then.”

“Thank God for that.”

They ventured back into comfortable silence, but affections were still reciprocated. Miles slipped a hand off the steering wheel and laid it palm-up on the console, an invitation that Phoenix immediately took. He gave his boyfriend’s hand a soft squeeze, contentedly sighing as his thoughts began to wander once more.

Hand holding wouldn’t feel the same for very long after all. There would be an even deeper connection with it, a deeper unity. Soft skin and sturdy fingers would be bordered with precious metal, a glistening reminder of their utmost promise to each other...

“Phoenix.”

The tanner man jerked back to the present once again, though not as harshly as before.

“Yeah?”

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

“Are you saying I’m normally loud, baby?”

The slight rise of his boyfriend’s brow was enough to draw forth a laugh, the deeper implications plenty visible in such a mere gesture.

“More talkative than I, yes,” Miles huffed, though he quickly ventured back towards a more solemn air. “Is something on your mind?”

“Ahh...no.” A lie. And it was very dangerous to offer a lie to the man who sought nothing but the truth in every regard. So Phoenix very quickly covered with a genuine statement, a true explanation indeed. “I just...get lost in how much I love you sometimes.”

Heterochromatic eyes had averted with such a statement, and his other hand had taken purchase upon his neck. The silence that followed however, drew his gaze back towards his partner. But, following the pattern of comfort, any and all apprehension was doused by the prosecutor; the intense blush and bashful furrow on his counterpart’s face triggered giggles.

“Darling...” Miles muttered in disdain.

“It’s true!”

Silver eyes briefly flitted sideways, before the opposing man heaved a large sigh. Years ago, such a statement would likely earn some manner of reluctance or coldness. In the present though, and to Phoenix’s delight, it slowly drew forth a gentle smile once more.

“If I wasn’t speeding down a highway, I would perhaps have to kiss you,” Miles eventually murmured.

“Just perhaps?” Phoenix laughed.

“Mm...”

The prosecutor readjusted their conjoined hands, and better gripped Phoenix’s, gently bringing it to his awaiting mouth.

“Assuredly,” he said, sealing the word with a tender kiss.

It was the defense’s turn to be bashful, flushing and giggling and crumpling in on himself. It was without fail; close to proposing, and yet rendered so useless by his beloved. He doubted that would change, even well into their marriage. It hadn’t for years and years after all.

When Miles lowered their hands back to the console, Phoenix heaved a breath, easing into conversation before thoughts hoisted him away again.

“Where are we going anyway?”

There was an odd pause, coupled with what sounded like a shaky inhalation. The prosecutor did indeed answer, but through vagueness only.

“You’ll see.”

“Are we close? Because I perhaps have to kiss you too.” Just as Miles has done, he brought their hands upward, gripping the prosecutor’s just so and returning the gesture with warm lips. “Hands don’t really cut it.”

“Yes, dear. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Phoenix grinned, and pressed a plethora of short kisses to the other man’s hand- so much so that he earned a soft whap of disdain to the face. He broke into giggles then and freed the prosecutor from his onslaught, simply opting to sit and wait for their arrival, albeit anxiously. He hoped it was a proper location. He hoped it was someplace fitting. He hoped it would be a date worth turning into something more. He wasn’t sure if he could stand the idea of having to push things back any longer; the ring had already been in his possession for one day too many.

The car finally slowing down brought him from his thoughts, and he blinked as he attempted to process where they were. It didn’t seem to be a fancy restaurant or anything typical of Miles; in fact, it seemed like they were just in some random part of the city. And yet, there seemed to exist an odd sort of...familiarity to it all, a sense of dejavu gnawing on his mind.

Regardless of the swirling thoughts, he snapped to action the moment they stopped. The second Miles parked the car, he was leaning across the center console, following through with his previous statements and tugging them both into a proper kiss. The pair sighed and melted against each other’s mouths, sucking and gliding and caressing.

When Phoenix attempted to slide his tongue betwixt his partner’s lips however, did the prosecutor lean back and break their connection.

“Not so fast, Wright,” he tutted, though his brow was playfully cocked, “Can’t have you sullying this date.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s irresistibly gorgeous.”

Miles rolled his eyes, causing the tanner man to chuckle, before he poised himself to depart the vehicle.

“I rest my case.”

Phoenix continued with his mirth, but had no further objections; no, he didn’t need to sully their date at all. There would be plenty of time for intimacy, but only one chance to present such a momentous inquiry. So he exited after his boyfriend, and walked around the car to be by his side.

Gazes were soft once more upon meeting, and the prosecutor offered a hand for Phoenix to take. He did so happily, and allowed his partner to lead. In doing so however, perplexity joined the mix, his wavy brows furrowing as he continued to try and place...where exactly they were. It wasn’t exactly a park, or a restaurant, or any discernible destination at all. It merely seemed like Miles was leading him down a sidewalk- and was his hand...trembling?

His face scrunched with further confusion, the two of them continuing to wind through buildings. Soon however, buildings opened up to a very particular scene. Rounding a corner stopped him dead in his tracks. Gazing upon the openness before him smacked his brain with a plethora of memories. He saw many a picture, heard swaths of innocent laughter, and felt rushes of old warmth...

“Remember this spot?”

Miles’ murmur managed to reach him, but his composure still swayed. Tears almost pricked his heterochromatic eyes, his nose tickling with the threat of their manifestation. Because yes, he absolutely did. The small canal, the grassy hill, the surrounding quaint homes, the sunset...

It was a scene from their youth. It was a place they had frequented together as grade schoolers. It was a place where dreams had been discussed, and bonds had been formed.

And God, was it perfect for taking said bonds even further.

Phoenix had to keep a hand over his mouth for a few beats, attempting to keep his composure at bay. Breaking down in front of Miles wouldn’t be anything new necessarily, but it would produce suspicion.

Thankfully, the prosecutor didn’t seem to notice- at least, not yet. For he simply snickered and tugged, softly beckoning with their conjoined hands.

“I take that as a yes. Come on then.”

He led them both down the old path, strolling in the golden light of the setting sun. Phoenix could almost see flashes of their grade school selves as they happened along, laughing and shoving and playing. And, through the sparkles in his vision, could he also picture the glistens of precious metal, of gemstones shining with promise and love.

He had to bite his cheek to keep himself in check. When would be the proper time to ask anyway? It felt so close, but so very far. It felt so perfect, but so out of reach. Maybe it would just come to him. Maybe the stars would align. And if Miles’ hand was still oddly trembling, he could no longer tell; his was too.

The prosecutor slowing down pulled him from his running thoughts, but made the situation all the more real. He allowed Miles to lead him into the grass, onto one of the slopes neighboring the sidewalk. Mismatched eyes rapidly blinked to shoo away tears; it was such the perfect parallel. It was such a beautiful nod to their roots.

“Love, I didn’t think you remembered this!” he strained out, beginning to beam immensely, “It was so long ago.”

“Well of course I do. You were the better part of those years after all.”

“Miles...” Phoenix heaved a breath, his smile beginning to rival the light shining upon them. “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? This was so thoughtful.”

He watched with delight as the opposing man flushed something terrible, his silver eyes averting and his grasp retracting.

“Ngh...” he softly groaned, before dismissively waving a hand and moving to sit, “It’s merely a trip down memory lane, that’s all.”

“Yeah but...” Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh, latching on to some teasing for a bit of emotional respite, “Esteemed Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth sitting in the grass for me?”

Miles seemed to stiffen a bit, coupled with another crawl of red across his visage.

“Is that really such an oddity?”

“A bit, yeah! It’s different than what we normally do.” Phoenix snickered a bit more, before he lowered himself to the ground as well, sitting flush against his partner. The mirth departed his voice then, his tone traveling back towards a more earnest warmth. “So it’s just...It’s really sweet. And meaningful.”

And utterly perfect for what he had planned.

He watched as Miles’ face immensely softened, though silver eyes averted once more. Phoenix took the opportunity to press a quick kiss to the offered cheek, before moving to nestle his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. He sighed a contented breath upon doing so- particularly when he eventually felt Miles’ head snuggle against his.

Part of him was anxious, what with a brewing proposal swirling around in his depths. But another part hushed him, and told him to simply enjoy the scene for a moment. It was a lovely contrast against their usual life; just getting to take a few moments of calm hush with his beloved, in a place that meant so much to them. The sunlight was warming, his partner’s body was soothing, and the air was enticing.

Mismatched eyes half-lidded, and he hummed amidst the quiet. He wanted it to continue. He wanted to stay in the moment forever. But the other half of him began to cry out for attention. The other half drove him to speak, to drive the peace towards partnership.

“God, Miles...How did we even get here?”

“It’s been a long road, hmm?” the prosecutor murmured after a few beats.

“Yeah. Crazy to think I’m here with you like this. It was always a dream of mine.”

“I concur.”

“So proper,” Phoenix snickered, moving to press another kiss to the opposing man’s cheek.

“Hush,” he huffed. Before Phoenix could nestle back downwards however, Miles turned his head and captured their mouths for a proper kiss. And just as soon as the kiss started was he rising to stand, stoically and handsomely staring out towards the departing sun. He seemed to let out a shaky breath, before he continued in solemn tones. “As children, when I sat with you here, I...couldn’t help but look to the future, and imagine what could be. To think that it’s realized now, and far more than I ever pictured...”

He heaved again, and seemed to look downward at his feet.

“And to think that it could continue...”

Phoenix’s heart leapt into his throat; how was it that Miles was perfectly setting him up? How was it that he was meticulously laying the puzzle pieces out? It was almost like he knew, like he was aware of the ring burning brightly in his pocket.

“Phoenix...”

It was time. Oh God, it was time. It was like some divine forces yanked him upward, piloting him towards the start of a new beginning. He no longer questioned it. He no longer felt apprehensive. He only felt entirely driven to begin.

“-Miles, I adore you,” he blurted, butting in and rambling without much control, “I love you so much. I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. You’re gorgeous, and amazing, and so important to me, and...”

He could feel his partner’s eyes on him. He could feel the burn of their bodies. He could feel the very question hanging in the air between them. His chest tightened, his eyes watered, and his extremities quivered...Yet he still managed to reach for the life changing box in his pocket, and poised himself to get down on one knee.

“And so I have to do something I’ve thought about since I met-“

“-Hold it!”

The sudden objection from his boyfriend startled him, causing him to crash down upon his knee as opposed to a gentle descent. He winced a bit at the impact, but physical pain was quickly replaced by emotional; Miles looked...appalled. Phoenix felt his chest squeeze immensely, coupled with a croaked utterance of the prosecutor’s name.

“Wh- Miles?”

He watched with further horror as his counterpart backed away, heaving and wringing his fists a plenty. Miles even went so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose with a hand, sighing and straining a cursed sentence.

“I cannot believe this...”

The defense lawyer trembled, the words piercing a crack in his heart. He had been wrong. He had been overzealous. He had pushed Miles too far. He had backed himself into an unlovable corner yet again.

He opened his mouth to speak, to question, to beg for answers, but all that escaped was a quivering breath. Oddly enough, the sound still managed to reach the prosecutor, because he looked back before...miraculously softening?

“-Wait wait, no. Apologies. I...” he said with a raised hand, before pulling it back in and freezing.

They both were silent for several beats then, the air immensely tense and thick. Though Phoenix felt slightly better that his beloved no longer appeared...disgusted, his heart still ached something terrible. He was confused, and downtrodden, watching his boyfriend closely for any further reactions.

React he did; he shifted more into the typical tense nervousness, pulling at his shirt and avoiding eye contact. Numerous deep breaths also heaved from the prosecutor, the exhalations sounding surprisingly shaky. Though it was likely only seconds, the quiet felt like hours, Phoenix clambering for any sign he hadn’t just made the worst mistake of his life.

And it was a wonder he doubted his partner so. It was crazy that his anxiety still got to him. The traumatic scars really did run immensely deep. But regardless, Miles finally provided, looking back and turning the situation around.

“My darling,” he began, his silver eyes interlocking with heterochromatic, “I am...so sorry for startling you. I just...have no idea how we possibly managed...”

With that, the prosecutor reached into his own pocket, and presented something that connected all the glittering puzzle pieces together.

Oh.

Oh.

Every ounce of apprehension washed away. Every bit of discomfort fizzled into nothingness. Every drop of sadness evaporated into thin air. And all was replaced by the most dazzling, incredible warmth Phoenix had ever experienced.

Because it was a box, much like the one he still had in his own hand.

Suddenly, everything made sense. He had brought him out here with identical intentions. He had sweetened his tongue with the same question. He had been preparing to go down the same road, and was startled by the abrupt change in plans.

They had both tried to propose to each other. They had both tried to ask for each other’s hand.

Phoenix wasn’t sure whether to laugh or sob, and subsequently settled for a mixture of both. His free hand clapped over his mouth, and he quivered from tears and mirth alike.

“Miles? Miles?!”

Through the glaze, he could see the prosecutor shaking his head. And over his trembling vocalizations, he could hear the strained quality his boyfriend’s voice had taken.

“Always throwing me for a loop, Wright.”

“Oh my God!” Phoenix laughed, rubbing at his eyes with a hand as he attempted to compose himself. He was overwhelmed, so delightfully overwhelmed. Because two opposing rings meant they were on the exact same page. Two pieces of beautiful metal signaled each other’s answer.

His laugh choked off with more of a sob, and he peered through his fingers to get a look at his boyfriend. Miles had his head turned away, a hand grasping his face once more. Was he crying as well? Or trying not to? Whatever the case, the very consideration sent further tears down the tanner man’s cheeks.

“I...I love you,” he rasped.

“I...” Normally smooth and cool vocals were shaky and taut, the prosecutor clearing his throat before attempting again. “I love you too, dearest.”

The situation beautifully plateaued, the two men taking numerous beats to compose themselves. Neither moved. Neither said anything. Neither made any sort of advance with such a dear connection woven between them.

Phoenix continued wiping his tears and blowing out cleansing breaths. He slowly became aware of the fact that he was still on one knee, still poised to officially pop the question. Though, how was he to go about it? And with an opposing ring in the playing field? He felt inclined to inquire.

“Love?”

He watched as the prosecutor straightened, smoothing out his dress shirt and composing himself something proper. It looked very much like how he recovered in court after a sudden blow, scrambling back from an emotional edge and easing back into stoicism.

“Yes?” he answered after a few beats, though his voice was still thickened.

“What...what do we even do now?!” Phoenix laughed, his free hand traveling to rest upon his neck.

“Well,” Miles began after heaving another cleansing breath, “If we’re getting into technicalities, I’ve had this planned for months.”

The sheen in Phoenix’s eyes flashed with a new spark, the tears glistening with fire. No, not just an opposing ring- a rival ring. It seemed that old habits died hard.

“So? I’m the one on one knee right now! I beat you to it.”

“And? I don’t believe you had any sort of plan regarding this.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m trying to marry you, Phoenix,” Miles said matter-of-factly, tapping his bicep in the normal way, “Ergo, I know you better than perhaps the back of my own hand.”

The tanner man wanted to laugh at the courtroom persona his partner had suddenly adopted, argue with the points being brought to the table, and melt at the fact that Miles Edgeworth wanted to marry him. Unfortunately, he was incapable of anything of the sort; the truth was a little too on the nose.

“Ahh...” was all he sheepishly managed, his free hand grasping his neck harder.

He watched as Miles cocked a brow and gave him a knowing look, furthering the blush that gripped his cheeks.

“Out with it then.”

“Okay...Maybe I was about to start winging it...”

“Mm, as always.”

“But so what?” Phoenix exclaimed, “I’m always ready to get into how much I adore you, and why I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else, and-“

“-You are not about to advantageously segue, Phoenix Wright.”

The defense attorney burst out laughing, finally standing back up and closing the distance between them.

“Miles!” he comedically whined, giving his boyfriend’s chest a gentle shove, “Dammit, you do know me a little too well.”

“Indeed. Which is why I feel more than apt to be the first one to proceed.”

“No! I was ramping myself up towards a big speech and everything.”

“As was I. I’ve dreamed of this since I was young.”

“And you think I haven’t?!”

The prosecutor’s face devolved into more of his usual scowl, his arms lacing across his chest. It was quite the sight really, what with his eyes still containing wisps of moisture. Still, the strange contrast didn’t cease the pair’s argument.

“We seem to be at quite the impasse then.”

“A bit!” Phoenix snorted.

“Is your stubbornness really going to stop us from getting engaged?”

“Is yours?”

Miles let out a harsh sigh, his annoyance becoming more and more noticeable.

“You’re being ridiculous. Why does it matter who proposes to whom anyway?”

“If it didn’t matter so much, you would have let me go for it!” the tanner man pointed out.

“You’re incredibly obstinate.”

“Haven’t you always admired that?”

“Phoenix,” Miles hissed.

“Besides, so are you!”

“Tell me, do you have a better comeback besides mirroring what I’ve just said?”

“I could always tell you to shut up and let me get on with it.”

“Oh, so romantic and well spoken,” the prosecutor snapped, throwing his hands with exasperation, “Truly makes for the sweetest memories.”

“Says you! You’re the one who started all of this. I could have proposed already!”

It was then that Phoenix’s eyes glinted once more, this time with a spark of mischievous stubbornness. In knowing him so well, Miles appeared to pick up on it, his body twitching and his brow furrowing.

“Don’t you dare-“

The prosecutor’s snarl cut off as they both leapt for the same conclusion. Knees crashed to the ground together, and boxes were hastily grappled for, the two racing for that beautiful spot.

And then something tickled Phoenix once more.

Maybe it was the way the love of his life was kneeling and fuming before him, holding a precious box in such a seething manner. Or maybe it was the way they were both treating their rings as weapons, like they were drawing them for a duel. Or maybe, it was the way they were arguing over a damn proposal.

Regardless, the tanner man was powerless, and began laughing again without much control. The sudden mirth seemed to slap the prosecutor; out of the corner of Phoenix’s eye, he could see his partner stiffen something terrible. It was likely striking even more of a nerve, but he couldn’t help it. It was so...stupidly them, and so amusing as a result.

He bent over from the force of his giggles, instinctively placing a hand on Miles’ bent knee to steady himself. The voice of reason in the very back of his head screamed danger, as an angry prosecutor could easily shove it off. But just as the situation continued to unfold in an odd manner, as did motivations. For Phoenix felt a gentle hand come to rest upon his own, squeezing as opposed to throwing.

“What’s...so funny?” he barely heard his boyfriend ask, his hesitant voice drowned out by the seamless mirth. He had to take numerous beats to sharply inhale, to attempt to get some air, before he could even consider replying.

“...This!” he gasped, wiping building tears with his free hand, “Us!”

To both his surprise and amusement, he heard what sounded like a cheerful huff from the prosecutor. Maybe he was being pulled down into the fun as well? The thought tickled the tanner man even more, and he rode another wave of giggles before fighting for further conversation.

“Miles...Miles...What the hell are we even doing?”

Yes, the prosecutor was definitely laughing now; Phoenix could hear the chuckles blending in so well with his own. It sent him into another fit, made worse by what Miles said next.

“Being...Imbecilic I suppose.”

The pair took a few moments to laugh together then, completely replacing the annoyance in Phoenix’s system with honeyed warmth once more. How typical of them. How beautiful of them. Riding an emotional rollercoaster was something of wonderful normalcy, even in what was supposed to be a special moment. Though, perhaps it actually made the moment all the more meaningful, all the more memorable.

“God! We’re so stupid...We’re so damn stupid...” the defense eventually wheezed, continuing to wipe at his eyes.

“Speak for yourself,” Miles huffed, slowly standing back up and brushing himself off.

“We’re- hey!” Phoenix laughed, erecting to give his boyfriend’s chest yet another push, “You’re an ass.”

“Oh, will the loving talk ever cease?” the prosecutor sighed with a roll of his eyes.

The tanner man continued to giggle, before he stepped even closer, nuzzling his nose tenderly against Miles’. The pair softened immensely, and the defense attorney took advantage by offering yet another kiss.

“I love you so much,” he whispered when their mouths parted.

“I love you too.”

The pair took a few beats of tender silence then, stepping down from the nonsensical energy that had been their argument. It was Miles’ turn to take advantage then; he reached with a hand to brush black hairs back into place before gently framing a damp cheek.

“I do still intend to go through with this, you know,” he murmured, before mildly cocking a brow, “Even though the mood has been thoroughly soiled now.”

“I do too. I-“ Heterochromatic eyes widened slightly, the tanner man starting like he had reached a brilliant conclusion in court. “Hey, actually...”

“Hmm?”

“Hear me out on this, okay? Going back and forth is totally our thing, right? We kinda just proved that.”

A huff and eye roll from the prosecutor drew another shaky laugh from the defense. Still, he continued.

“So what if we...propose together? Back and forth?”

He watched as a strong swath of red spread across his boyfriend’s cheeks, coupled with a furrow of his brow. Silver eyes flitted off to the side as well, a sign he was either flustered or objecting.

“That’s...”

In fearing the latter, Phoenix quickly interjected. “-I know, I know, it’s weird. And not exactly traditional. But it’s...us, you know?”

“I suppose that would indeed solve our problem after all.”

“Okay...”

The tanner man heaved a multitude of cleansing breaths, attempting to pull his composure back to the proper place. But with the element of surprise gone, with two rings in the vicinity, and with the love of his life staring through sparkles of unshed tears...He couldn’t help but shakily laugh, intense emotions swaying all over the place.

“Whew, I...Dammit! I can’t focus now-“

“-Shh,” Miles cut in, suddenly leaning closer and nestling their foreheads together, “Come here then, dearest. I believe we need to...take a moment.”

The defense’s breath caught at the proximity, but he nodded, allowing himself to get ushered away by the man before him. Nestled so close, aggressively ricocheting emotions had no choice but to settle; for there was nothing quite as soothing as snuggling up to his beloved. His mind whited out with the gentle, floral scent of the prosecutor, and the soft warmth his being provided. Though his heart was still pounding, and his eyes were still watering, it did indeed effectively walk him back to a more composed mentality. Perhaps because it reminded him just how much he adored the opposing man, and just how much he wanted to marry him.

“Better?” Miles eventually whispered.

“Yeah...” Phoenix replied, before blowing out a few more cleansing breaths. This was it. This was really it. “Okay. Okay okay...”

He leaned back then, intertwining both stares and fingers. The two shared a look of love, of reverence, of happiness, before stepping fully into the light.

“Phoenix Wright...”

“Miles Edgeworth...”

The tanner man watched as his beloved opened his mouth, but stiffened when no words followed. The tender visage furrowed back into a scowl, but thankfully, Phoenix wasn’t left in apprehension for too long.

“Curses. I had been so ready!”

Phoenix found himself laughing once again; composure was still a beast, it seemed. But somehow, by some damn graces, were words poised on his own tongue. So he gripped his love’s hand a bit tighter, and allowed them to fall.

“Well here- I knew I wanted to marry you from the moment I met you.”

The furrow on Miles’ face didn’t ease- it only turned incredulous. Naturally, Phoenix laughed even harder, and gave the prosecutor’s hand another squeeze.

“I’m serious! Even at nine years old, I could recognize my soulmate.”

Miles seemed to consider the statement, or allow the words to blanket over him. Either way, after a few beats, did he find his stride as well, steering them both towards a more solemn air.

“From the beginning, you enraptured me,” he murmured, silver eyes trained off to the side, “I felt safe around you, happy around you. And there was a deeper sort of calling that I recognized too- something brilliant and pure that I haven’t experienced with anyone else.”

“I think it was so strong and beautiful that I didn’t know what to do with myself,” Phoenix admitted.

“Indeed. It frightened me, and you know this. I denied its call initially. Or perhaps I didn’t deem myself worthy of standing hand in hand with such an incredible, intelligent, wonderful man.”

“Miles...” Phoenix murmured, his voice and face coated with disdain.

“Especially after all I’d done. So, I of course stepped away from that gorgeous light you cast.”

“But I had no intention of losing you. Still don’t.”

The two squeezed hands, before monochrome eyes slowly crept upwards to find mismatched once more.

“Nor I you,” Miles whispered, “When your hand was presented, I could only avoid its reach for so long. There was only so much running before that warmth enveloped me. No longer could I deny the deep and complex feelings you evoked within.”

“I didn’t know how to go about it, you know. Once I had your hand, I didn’t know what to do. I stumbled a bit trying to figure it all out.” Phoenix looked downward at their connection then, a warm, tearful smile overtaking his face. “All I did know was that I was so incredibly in love with you.”

He heard Miles’ breath catch, and subsequently offered a few caresses with his thumb. The prosecutor softly cleared his throat, before he managed to tenderly continue.

“I...knew I was in love with you too. The second you found me, the second you reached me, I could feel it.”

“Yet somehow we danced circles around each other,” Phoenix shakily snickered.

“I just couldn’t comprehend it. I struggled to find mutuality. Because, I of course just wanted to see you happy. I wanted nothing but the best for you. And I wasn’t sure I fit that bill.”

“You did. You do.” Phoenix softly broke their connection for the purpose of framing his partner’s face, tenderly holding and intently staring. “God, Miles, you do. I don’t think I could love someone as much as I love you. Maybe I couldn’t even wrap my head around it either.”

“And we both experienced hardships of course.”

“Yeah. But you were there for me. You took my hand as well. You guided me and made me a stronger, better person. I wouldn’t be who I am today if not for you.”

“I of course can say the same about you. You are...” Miles heaved a shaky breath himself, before reaching to mirror the touch. “...the dearest thing in my life, Phoenix. You are my light, my guidance, my foundation, and my truth. You are so incredibly important to me, and I love you more than I ever deemed possible.”

Phoenix had heard his partner speak soft sentiments before. He had experienced the deeper, more vulnerable side of the prosecutor a handful of times. But whispered in a spot from their childhood, proclaimed as they sought to strengthen their bond...

It amplified his tears tenfold, his bottom lip wobbling as awed cascades poured forth.

“I...M-Miles...Dammit...” he croaked, leading to a playful eye roll from his partner.

“Mm, so eloquent,” Miles softly huffed.

“Shh! I...” Phoenix hesitated, overwhelmed and overflowing with adoration. He felt there wasn’t much to say to top what had just been murmured- and he also knew he dangerously close to falling apart. Consequently, he softly tugged his partner closer, and locked them in a tender kiss. He couldn’t help but whimper against the prosecutor’s lips, but he hoped to instill every bit of honeyed warmth he could manage- at least until he could properly vocalize.

“You’re my home, my warmth, my dream, my everything,” he eventually murmured, his mouth ghosting against his partner’s, “I love you more than humanely possible. You make me so so happy. There is no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So you’re kinda...stuck with me forever.”

“I would have it no other way. You have me, always.”

“Always. I’m yours.”

The two men stared at each other for numerous beats, glassy eyes peering deeply into each other’s souls. Tears ran down Phoenix’s cheeks, whereas Miles remained unshed and unbroken. But regardless, the intense emotion was palpable, the next step dangling right there for both to grab.

“So then...” Miles whispered.

“So then...” Phoenix quietly returned.

In mirroring each other, in being on the same plane, the two simultaneously lowered to one knee, far slower and less chaotic than the previous time. Instead, it was purposeful, devout, the pair entirely interlocked as they continued. They both presented their respective boxes once more, and shakily prepared for the final step.

“Phoenix Wright?”

“Miles Edgeworth?”

“Would...would you do me the extraordinary honor...and privilege...” Miles started.

“...of becoming my husband?” Phoenix finished.

It was then that he opened his box, with Miles following closely behind. And again, did he come incredibly close to breaking. Again, did he nearly lose hold on reality.

Because of course he and Miles continued to parallel. Of course they both ran with the same idea: The ring the prosecutor was presenting glistened with blue, just as the ring he presented glistened with red. They were gifting each other’s aesthetics. They deeply recognized each other, nodded to each other, and such an element would likely switch the next time they gifted rings.

The next time they gifted rings...

“I’ve waited so long to marry you, Miles...” Phoenix managed to gasp.

“I’ve pictured no one else...”

Phoenix was barely breathing, barely thinking. But still, did the words roll off his tongue, like they had been poised to do for eternity.

“So...yes.”

The preciousness finally broke the nigh impenetrable glass, a single tear rolling down the prosecutor’s cheek as he returned the deepest sentiment.

“Yes.”

Phoenix choked out a pitiful sob, and couldn’t help but tug them both upwards, his mouth finding Miles’ the second they were standing. And it was a wonder how their kiss almost immediately felt different, tasted different. It was sweeter, purer, and more profound. It was like their lips connected in a way they hadn’t before. It was something gorgeous, something new.

Perhaps it was because they were engaged. They were engaged.

Miles Edgeworth was his fiancé.

Another heaving sob from the defense attorney forced the kiss apart, and he opted to simply bury himself against Miles’ neck, beaming and crying all the while. He snuggled as close as he could possibly manage, and relished in the feeling of hands embracing him tightly. There, he attempted to compose himself, but naturally, the opposing man didn’t make things easy.

“Pull yourself together, Wright,” Miles softly jested, his voice thick with moisture, “You’re yanking me down with you.”

“I c-can’t,” he half-laughed half-sobbed.

“Mm...Perhaps I should take advantage and christen your finger with a ring first then...”

Sobs leant more towards laughter then, the defense attorney tightly hugging the prosecutor before leaning back in the embrace.

“N-nice try! We’re still doing this together.”

“We need both hands, silly,” Miles huffed before cocking an amused brow at his partner, “Though, judging by our differing composure, I relinquish my previous statement and deem it appropriate that you go first. Before you collapse on me, that is.”

“God, I love you...” Phoenix laughed, “And yeah, no promises...”

They both snickered, before turning their attention downward. Eyeing the two rings almost choked Phoenix up something terrible, but he managed to hang on by a mere thread. He focused on the band he intended to gift, the essence of his partner, fixating on completing the beautiful tradition. With a hand, he removed the precious ring from its box. And then shakily, softly, reverently, did he grab Miles’ hand with one of his own, and slip the band onto his finger with the other.

He shivered at the sight, at the ring finally resting in its proper place. But he barely had time to process before Miles began to mirror, slipping the opposing ring onto his tanner finger in return.

And then red truly danced with blue. Blue completely intertwined with red. Two colors dazzled and sparkled beside each other- just as they had for years, and would continue to do so for the rest of their days.

Phoenix could do nothing but stare for what seemed like an eternity, his trance only broken by Miles bringing their hands upward. Once more did he press soft kisses to Phoenix’s fingers, the weight of which was far greater now. The defense had no choice but to articulate.

“I’m...I’m going to marry you.”

Phoenix let out another round of gasping breaths, and was sure his smile was going to split his cheeks as he uttered the dreamlike phrase once more.

“Oh my God...I’m going to...marry you, Miles...We’re engaged.”

“We are...” the prosecutor quietly reaffirmed.

Shivering laughs trembled both bodies, before Phoenix gently pried his hands free. He immediately reached to frame Miles’ face, and the new glisten to his finger forced further cascades down his cheeks.

“We did it...” he laughed.

And the expression that had washed over his fiancé’s face was like nothing he had ever seen. It seemed to carry a level of adoration he didn’t even know existed. It seemed to be comprised of more warmth than that of the sun on the horizon. It seemed to be an expression entirely reserved for him.

All of which told Phoenix that he had, in fact, made the best decision of his life. Though, the following murmured word from his beloved hammered it in, cemented them fully on the unified plane.

“Finally...”

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

summary: y’all know the drill

warnings: reader is sort of bitter/cynical because of circumstances, unedited, two girls bonding as they should

word count: 4.5k

this is part four! all other parts are available on my masterlist!

The first time you met with Natasha in your gardens, you felt like you were committing some sort of heinous crime. You constantly checked over your shoulder to make sure that no one was watching you, to make sure that no one was going to see that you were heading to meet someone, and especially that no one knew who you were meeting. 

You were quiet as you rounded the area and saw no one waiting for you, your hopes of meeting with Natasha sparking out with more vigor than they had been sparked with, and before you could make yourself turn around, you sighed and then inhaled, trying to keep your nerves at a minimum. She wasn’t late. She couldn’t be late if she was doing you a favor. Before you could get too far in your thoughts, you heard the soft sound of a footstep coming, a stomp so loud that it almost felt intentional. You turned around and saw Natasha approaching, and for the first time, you saw the woman out of her armor. 

  It was like you were seeing something illegal, at first. You almost shied away, almost averted your eyes, but then you realized that you just… couldn’t. She was too pretty. She wasn’t delicate kind of pretty, and nor did she try to be or not to be, but she was just gorgeous. The moonlight, once again, was her ally as it worked to make her features pop, and illuminate her already bright eyes. Her lips were curved upwards in a hesitant smile, almost as if she didn’t expect for you to be there, let alone before her. And then it dropped, like she expected you to lose nerve and leave her there. The small sliver of vulnerability in her eyes made you take a small step forward and offer her your own awkward smile. 

 So, you spoke. “Thank you,” was all you were able to get out, but for the moment, that was enough. You expected her to playfully milk it, to ask you, “for what?”, and have you play some humbling game that was both passive and aggressive and teasing. But all she did was smile softly, as softly as the light was hitting the dew on the grass, and tell you that you didn’t have to thank her. 

  “Have you tried refuting it?” She asked, her voice a little less soft in the night. 

“I told you, it’s useless.” You stood up straighter and walked past her slowly, implying that you wanted to walk with her through your garden. “The High Priest’s word is practically law.” 

“The King is fond of you,” Natasha said, and you gave her a look. “If you ask him to challenge it, he will.” 

“He may, but I doubt he would think differently than any of the others. They think I should be married. They don’t think that a woman should be in charge of all of the things that I am in charge of.” You kicked a rock. “They think we’re useless.” 

“I know.” 

“That’s why I looked at you like that, you know,” you blurted, and she narrowed her eyes at you as she tried to understand what you were talking about. “When we first met, do you remember how I stared at you?” 

“I thought you were going to turn me away.” 

“No, not at all. And I apologize for my rudeness,” you added, and she gave you that curt knight’s nod, the nod that told the receiver of it that everything was fine. That whatever happened could be considered buried. “But I looked at you like that because… I’ve never seen a woman be a knight before. I’ve never seen a woman with rough hands, nor have I ever seen her natural desire of battle be fulfilled. I’ve seen common women get dirty and scoop fertilizer and gain muscles, but never for themselves. Always for the good of the family, the good of the farm. I had muscles on the farm when I was young because I had to, not by choice. But you… you look the way you do and behave the way you do by choice. You chose to be a knight, to be a protector, and to have calloused hands. Unfortunately, I never grew up having choices, but after my husband died, for a while I finally did. But now they’ve left me again, and it’s even worse now that I’ve become a lovesick romantic for the idea of free will.” 

You were more than embarrassed by your speech. You had hardly taken breaths throughout it, but miraculously, your words flowed together and you didn’t sound half as nervous as you felt on the inside after finally revealing a pathetic part of yourself. You waited less than patiently for her response as seconds ticked by with just the sounds of feet hitting and leaving the dirt, and the occasional drag of one foot against the ground. 

“So, you’re jealous?” 

You almost laughed. “Of course that’s what you got from that.” 

“And you were a commoner?” 

 You frowned. You were sure that she had heard it from someone else if not by you. And if not by the sword of someone else’s mouth, you assumed that she could spot another commoner from miles away, beneath all the layers of skirt and manners that you forced yourself to keep. “Of course I was, you can’t tell?” 

“Sometimes you use language that isn’t very… noble, but I wouldn’t have guessed that you were a commoner before.” You hummed and nodded to yourself. Your etiquette teachers always told you that your language and the accent that you  so desperately tried to hide would be your downfall. That, and the way you used to stare at hot food in the beginning like you had never seen a slab of meat in your life. “You seem like you’ve adapted nicely.” 

“I had no choice but to,” you said softly. “I was isolated. If I failed as a wife, there was no one that was going to be able to dig me out of the grave.” 

  “How did you meet Lord Mirellis?” You made a displeased sound, one that caught her attention. “You don’t have to answer.” 

“You owe me a backstory,” was all you said before clearing your throat and continuing to walk, staring at the flowers that you tended to while you spoke. “He saw me while I was working on the farm. I was feeding the pigs, I’ll never forget. He didn't really say much the first time he saw me, just watched and loomed over me like a shadow. I didn’t think much of it at the time besides to give him a curtsy because he was a high lord and I was close to nothing, and then I kept doing my work. I was young, I smelled like mud, and I was feeding pigs from my hand. I never thought twice about the way he looked at me, with his narrowed eyes. I assumed he was looking at me in disgust, like most nobles do to commoners. I didn’t think twice.” 

  “I went back into my house, a little brick thing, and there he was. I remember curtsying a second time, and my hands shook because the air between him and my father was so thick. I remember feeling something in my bones, feeling that things were about to go terribly wrong. So there I was, standing on the hay doormat with mud up to my knees and straw in my hair, smelling like pigs. And then he asked my father- no- told my father that he wanted to take me to his home and wed me, and that he would have it no other way. My heart stopped there. He told him no, and for a moment, I believed that he would keep refusing, until the lord started giving offers.  My heart stopped again, and it died when my father gave me one long look, and then looked at the man in front of him, who was much more powerful, much stronger physically, and able to ruin our family with one stroke of a pen. And then, without even talking to my mother, he told him yes.” 

“Oh…” Natasha said, and you nodded your head and sighed, almost like you were recounting another’s boring tale and not your own. 

“It felt like before I could even blink, he took me home, here, and married me. It was quick and expensive and I remember wearing a beautiful dress on that day, probably the prettiest dress I had ever seen at that point. It was everything I wanted as a child, because luxury was my first choice, even though it had gone unanswered and unfulfilled. And then I learned that luxury and the prettiest dresses that came with it didn’t mean anything if I didn’t have the choice to go with it. It was hard for me to learn, but I learned. But I didn’t learn to settle with my husband. I warmed his bed because I had to, I held his hand in front of others because I had to, I mingled with his family because I had to and because he kept me from mine. But I was never his, like it said in the vows. And he was never mine.” 

“Did you want that?” When there were a few beats of seemingly impenetrable silence, Natasha spoke again. “Did you want a relationship like that?” 

You scoffed, but it wasn't mocking, It was a sad sound, a sound that you wished you could have taken back the second it left you. “Not with him,” you scoffed again. “With someone else. As a girl, I always wanted to be married to someone who loved me, and someone I loved just as much. It was my dream, maybe even more than luxury was. I wanted love. Not true love, because everyone knows that doesn’t exist, but I wanted to fall asleep and wake with someone I could actually stand, someone that made me smile. He singlehandedly killed that dream. I don’t think it can ever be revived, but I also didn’t think that it could die a second time in the form of Brock Rumlow.”

“So you don’t like not having a choice, and a part of you is still holding onto the idea that you could find love?” 

“I suppose that I said all that to say what you’ve said in a few words.” You admitted softly, looking at your hands that used to have calluses. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Natasha insisted, shaking her head slowly. “I asked for you to tell me. I was honored to get the whole story.” 

You scoffed again, covering your arms with your hands as a gentle breeze blew. “You’re… you’re gentle with me.” 

  “Am I?” 

She was. It was something that you thought about, and also tried not to think about. You often caught yourself watching her wield her sword and exercise and walk into the woods only to return hours later, and claim that she was on some soul searching hunt. The look in her eyes was always hungry, always challenging, always looking for something deeper. But there, in the night with you, she looked just as gentle and delicate as the flowers you were both surrounded by. 

“You’re so fierce during the day, I see it. And I can see it brewing under your eyes, and I can hear it under your words. You’re not typically like this, are you?” 

 She waited a minute before she responded. “Why do you ask?” 

 “Because you’re not like this usually. It’s in your nature to be … harsh. This isn’t you.” 

“It is,” she corrected. “But it’s not the way that most people deserve to see me.” 

Your heart constricted. “And I deserve to see you this way?” 

“I think you deserve a lot of things.” She answered vaguely, and you stopped your walking to take a look at her and her face of indifference. “I think you deserve more kindness than you receive. I think you never got it to begin with.” 

“And you’re trying to make up for lost time?” 

“I’m trying to let you know that the world isn’t out to crush your spirit,” she said, sounding slightly exasperated. “You’re so burnt out that you hardly even know it, you know? You’re so tired with the world and the people in it and the wicked ways of both that you don’t even realize that you only have two more inches of rope. You don’t realize that you’re burning both ends of your candle, and it’s horribly tragic. You could be so much happier, if you would just let yourself.” 

 Your mouth could have been shown shut at that moment. Your eyes were bugging out of your head, and you doubted that they were dry. Her words were nearing desperate, tone past begging. Did she truly care that much? It was so odd. Even odder, was she right? 

  “Both ends of a candle, huh?” You asked, the visual coming to rest in your mind and you nodded, trying your best to keep it together. “And if I was? What would you have me do?” 

  “I would have you go and sit alone by yourself, and find what truly makes you happy. The twins would be glad to help you. You don’t have to burn during the daytime when you’ve got a perfectly good sun working. Two of them.” You let out a small chuckle. 

  She was right. As brutish as she seemed, Natasha was proving herself to be correct over and over again. But your head was starting to pound, and you were close to tears again. You couldn’t let yourself cry in front of her. 

Not yet. 

“I think I’ll retire,” you said softly, voice flowing as gently as the breeze as you watched her nod her head. “Is there… is there anything you want to talk about?” 

“I’ll save my backstory for the next time.” 

“Next time,” you repeated, somehow, the words sounded foreign on your tongue. “Okay. I’ll be counting on it by the day,” you said, your voice a little too heavy to be a lighthearted tease, but she indulged you anyway. 

“I’m sure you’ll hardly even make it to four.” 

§§

Natasha was right, you hadn’t made it to four. Next time came in the form of two nights later, after you had cried your eyes out in your room for two days straight all by yourself, not even allowing Wanda in to come and dress you. Your eyes were puffy and your palms had little crescents indented in them from your nails digging in out of nerves and to distract you from the ache in your chest. The moon had barely finished rising in the sky when you trudged out of your room, gave four knocks on Natasha’s door and hoped that she would take the hint, and then took off towards the gardens. 

 While you waited, you couldn’t help but to watch the flowers sway in the breeze. The weather was constantly warm yet breezy in your region of the kingdom, and it had always been one of your favorite parts of living in Riverstone. The moonlight changed their colors, made them look somewhat eerie in the night as you waited by yourself for a knight that may or may not show.

 “I assumed this was what four knocks were for,” Natasha’s voice mused from behind you, and you didn’t even jump. “I assume you don’t just want to-”

“Can you tell me about yourself?” You interrupted, glancing at her and giving her a dejected look that you didn’t even realize you were wearing. “Please?” 

  “Um, yeah,” Natasha muttered, and then she cleared her throat. Her blue eyes connected to yours while she started to tell her story. “I grew up in the slums, you know that. Near the castle, in the capitol.” You had assumed that much. “I grew up watching knights, and I realized that was what I wanted to be when I was young. And unfortunately for me, I never stop going after the things that I want.” 

“That’s a gift,” you said, and she shook her head. 

“It depends on the things that I want. More times than not, it’s a curse.” Her eyes trailed over to a rose that was working on blooming, and then back to you. “Two other kids I grew up with felt the same way, Steve and James, but he always went by “Bucky”. They’re older than me, but it felt like I was always looking out for them. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. They’re knights now, they passed their quests.”

 “That’s wonderful,” you said, and she nodded her head. 

“They live together now, out in the country about a hundred leagues west of here.” 

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “They- they live together?” 

Just like that, Natasha’s almost carefree recollection of ehr memories was sliced through with an iron tone and a steely glare as she watched your expression, protecting her lifelong friends that weren’t even there to hear anything you could say. “Something wrong with that?” 

 “They- they could be killed for that,” you whispered, eyes fixated on her despite how mean she looked in the moment. 

“That’s why they live in the country,” she muttered, turning her head away from you, and you could have sworn that she clenched her jaw in what looked like disappointment. “I didn’t think that you were the type to judge that.” 

 You weren’t. You were actually judged, especially after some people in the beginning of your stay at Riverstone started to believe that you were having an affair with Wanda. You weren’t, and Wanda was simply your best friend, but that didn’t stop you from realizing how harsh the world was. Sexuality was never your concern, seeing as you never had choices to act on whichever way your heart swayed anyway. 

 But you couldn't deny that you were getting nervous for the way your fickle little heart acted around Natasha. 

  “I’m not, I promise,” you said, and she gave you a long look. “I just… I just know that people have been hurt because of… the way that they love. It’s not right, but it happens.” 

  “And you?” Natasha asked, and you furrowed your brows. “Who do you love?” You knew that she wasn’t talking about a specific person. She was talking about sexuality. 

Men. I love men. That was what you should have said, something along those lines and something concrete. It should have been something that would have convinced her and yourself that you were in the clear, that you loved the way society wanted you to. But instead, like Natasha always managed to, you opened your mouth and told the truth. “I don't know.” 

You looked away before you could see the pure shock flood her face, and then the mask of understanding that collapsed it. 

“It doesn’t matter who you love,” she said quietly, almost as if anything louder than a whisper would frighten you back into being reserved. “Only how you do it.”

“I’m not sure that priests feel the same way,” you muttered, and she snorted a bit. The sound coming from a woman both shocked you and made you grin. 

  “Those same priests abuse children. It’s safe to say that I have no cares for anything they have to say about me and my lifestyle.” You sucked in a breath at that and looked towards her, eyes wide as you waited for her to say something else so terribly true but all you looked over to find was a knowing smile on her face as she looked right back at you, painstakingly gorgeous. Your breathing stopped for a moment. 

“And you?” You dared to ask, but your boldness was erased by the way that your voice trembled. She gave you a look that attempted to convince you that she knew nothing of what you were talking about, but the glint in her eyes gave her away. “Your… preference.”

“I hope my lack of answer keeps you up all night,” she said, and she turned her back to you abruptly, starting to walk away. You sputtered until you could find words. 

“Wait, what?” You reached out to grab her, warm hand wrapping around the cold skin of her arm, and she turned her head to look at you, face so close that you got nervous. Your eyes drifted downwards, and then back just as quickly. Your heart raced in your chest when you thought about her leaving you behind by yourself in the garden, and then it ached again when you really understood what your panic was about. You didn’t want to be without her, being alone didn’t bother you any other time. “What made you want to be a knight?” You asked out of nowhere, and you saw her face scrunch up. “If it’s not too much to ask to know.” 

  “I… it’s not much. I didn’t see anything heroic or watch anyone be saved. There was no knight that saved me either, no knight that I looked up to. In fact, I was the one out of the three of us who wanted to be a knight first,” she said, and you leaned forward, almost like it would make her point come faster. “I read a story… you know the one about Sir Yuriel and Lady Selene?” 

   You blinked. Of course you did. Everyone knew that story. It was a common one that was read to children right before bed, about a time where the crime for falling in love with someone who wasn’t your intended was punishable by death. “The one where they run away from the people trying to kill him together?” 

“Yes,” Natasha said, and you furrowed your brows. It was hardly a positive story. It was a story drilled into young minds about the dangers of not doing what they were told to do, and what could happen if they chose to carve their own paths. 

“The knight dies at the end,” you pointed out. 

“He dies protecting her,” she corrected, but you just shook your head at her. 

“Regardless, he died. Why would you want to die?” 

“I don’t want to die,” she said, and you waited for the other part of her answer. “I want to do what he did, but better. As bad as I might still seem to you, I’m still a girl. And I want to love someone so much that I would give everything for them, and I want them to love me back enough for them to give up all the riches that Selene did. Just like you.” 

You ignored the pang in your chest at her accuracy, and the knowing look in her deep eyes. “Oh, so you’re a liberator? You save women from unfortunate circumstances?” 

“More like I just hate seeing things that are blatantly wrong, and I like to fix them.” 

“Then you’re in the wrong profession. You should have tried for a king’s associate.” 

“The people who are the true menaces listen to swords, not dried ink.” She patted her hip, right where the hilt of her sword would have been if she was in her armor. “I’m right where I need to be.” 

“In the middle of the garden of a widower, who cries herself to sleep every night after learning that she’s to be wed again?” You asked, and somehow, despite the severity of your words, there was a teasing lilt to your tone. 

 “I think we’re both right where we need to be.” 

“Oh, wouldn’t that be something? If the stars lined up kindly for a change.” You couldn’t hold back your scoff. “I’d get on my knees and pray for the first time in years.” 

Natasha stared at you for a long moment, her eyes calculating something that was completely lost to you as you crossed your arms and looked right back at her, a quiet and tension free challenge hanging in the air between you. “Have you ever even watched the stars to see if they aligned?”

“I don’t have the time or the spirit for that,” you said, a small laugh edging out the hardness in your voice.

 “Interesting.” 

§§

You had a day full of Pietro, an evening just sitting and talking mindlessly with Wanda, and then you got a sharp round of knocks on your door, and though you had never gotten them before, you knew exactly what they meant. 

Natasha was waiting for you, and the sight of her had you nearly choking. She was in a flowy white gown, the material so thin that it could have been a night gown. Her hair that was typically up during the day was down, and the Riverstone breeze was as evident as ever as she stared back at you, either waiting for an action or a few words to come from you. However, the second you opened your mouth, she shook her head. 

“Not a word. We’re stargazing tonight.” 

The part of you that was beaten into being mature was immediately turned off by the idea. Stargazing was something that you hadn’t done since childhood, and being a child never got you anywhere you needed to be. But the other part of you, the one that had been buried in dust just like your hands from that time had been covered in mud, wanted to do it. It both excited you and terrified you, because not even Wanda could make that part of you surface, not like how it was then. 

  You knew, without a doubt, that it had everything to do with Natasha Romanoff. 

You pretended to debate,but on the inside, you were already giving the stars love-eyes. “Let’s do it, then.”

It lasted for hours. Mostly, the two of you were silent, but that hardly meant that the two of you weren’t bonding. Every so often, she would turn her head to look over at you, and you would ignore the electrifying feeling of her blue eyes on the side of the face, vision fluttering all around your face. And then, you would look at her the same way, studying her like your former etiquette teachers would stare at your sewing and your posture. You found that with her being so close, you couldn’t deprive your eyes of watching her.

But when you weren’t looking at her for your own benefit or looking at her watching you, you were watching the stars. You laid under the arch of the gardens with her, a few petals blocking the way of a few distant stars. It felt… right. It felt natural, with the silence and all, and above anything, it just felt peaceful. You forgot everything that was troubling you within minutes of just lying there next to her. Feeling the warmth of her skin and the security of her being near was worth more than a thousand words, and you found that in that moment, sitting in silence with her and looking at the stars that had screwed you over so terribly was one of the best decisions that you had ever made. 

*****

hi guys! hope you liked this installment!! it’s about to be really fluffy and then we’ll get into what i like the most: drama wjjdjjdjdjx

question!!: i have about 13k worth of hades!natasha x persephone!reader in the vault. would you rather me start posting it now or wait for this series to be finished? we’re getting there with this one, ish.

tags! : @teenwonder @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife​

[courageous-she]

Letters to Luke- Luke Patterson

A/N: I’ve had this idea for a while and I finally had the motivation to sit down and write it. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Reader was dating Luke when he passed away and she and her family visit the Patterson’s each year to celebrate his birthday. This year she leaves Luke her letters to him she’s written over the years.

Word Count: 1481

It had been 25 years. 25 years since the love of her life, her soulmate she was convinced, had died. Eating a damn hot dog. She’d told him how bad those street dogs were, too. But Luke never listened, wanting to live life on the edge. Always convincing her that if you didn’t do at least one crazy or risky thing a day, then what was the point?

She had been so excited to see him and the rest of Sunset Curve play the Orpheum that night. In fact, she’d been in her room getting ready for their debut, listening to their demo album when her mom knocked solemnly on her door. That night, her whole world shattered.

She’d finished high school, quickly being known as the girlfriend of the dead guitarist. One by one her friends became more distant, not even her best friend hung around, not wanting to continuously be bummed out by the girl. The girl couldn’t even look at Bobby, the only remaining member of the band, without getting angry that he was the one to survive. Not that Bobby was a bad guy, but why was he the only member spared and she was left to suffer alone without her soulmate.

But life moved on. Life without Luke moved on and she continued the path she had planned out together with him. She went off to college, choosing to go out of state in a somewhat hopeless attempt at detaching herself from those memories. But she couldn’t detach herself from Luke. Luke Patterson was the only person who would truly ever understand her. So, it was there, in her freshman dorm room, miles away from home that she began her letters. Her letters to Luke.

She filled journal after journal writing letters to Luke. She told him about her crazy roommate freshman year who showered only once a month and never left the dorm for anything. She told him about becoming an RA to save money on college. She told him about graduating and pursuing grad school. And although she was hesitant, she told him about Nick.

She’d met Nick during grad school, the two of them clicking almost immediately. She was hesitant and nervous to fall in love again, but with Nick it came naturally. He made her feel safe and loved and appreciated. She eventually opened up to Nick about Luke and the fact that she wrote him letters. She expressed the comfort she found in writing those letters to her high-school boyfriend, her soulmate. She’d used that term when talking to Nick, and the boy only emphasized how if she enjoyed writing those letters, he wasn’t one to stop her. He also told her that he believed everyone had a soulmate in life, and maybe some people had more than one. The two agreed that Luke would be okay with her moving on and being happy.

She wrote to Luke on the day of her wedding, expressing how although she wasn’t marrying him, she knew he’d be there to walk her down the aisle and give her away. She wrote to him when she became pregnant, and the day she’d had her daughter; Luca Jane. She wrote to him on every birthday, expressing how much she wished they could bake his birthday cake together.

After college, the young couple had moved back to her hometown, understanding how much meaning the place held in her heart. That’s where they began their family, and where every year she went to the Patterson home to celebrate Luke’s birthday. Emily and Mitch became a third set of grandparents to young Luca, honored that the girl was named after their son. It meant a lot to them that the girl who’d made Luke so happy was still in their lives. She became a daughter to them and they were so grateful for that, for the chance to be grandparents.

On this particular birthday, Luke would have been turning 42. The little family made their way to the Patterson home, as had become tradition. Luca, now 15, almost the age her namesake was at the time of his passing, understood more deeply the meaning behind these visits. The young teen had taken to listening to rock music, finding comfort in the Sunset Curve demo. She was dressed clad in black skinny jeans, a band tee, and black vans, and the girl knew that Luke would be proud. She never mentioned to her daughter that Bobby had stolen the band’s music, she wanted her to like Luke’s music for what it was and not the altered versions it became famous for.

Little to the girl’s knowledge, Luke made an appearance at this particular birthday celebration. He’d been sitting on the counter, hugging his knees into his chest as his mother pulled the chocolate cake from the oven. He’d watched his parents move about the house, finding comfort in their daily routines. It wasn’t until he heard the door click open that his nonexistent heart stopped in his chest. There she was, as gorgeous as ever, standing in the doorway with a man he didn’t know and a girl who looked like the female teenage version of himself.

He’d later find out that this was her husband and daughter, happy that she’d moved on and done the things they’d talked about as kids. He’d held back tears after hearing the young teenagers name and understanding completely that it was after him. He was still a part of her life after all these years, she never forgot about him. As the two family’s became one in the Patterson household, Luke never left her side, longing to reach out and hold her hand. He watched as she, Emily, and Luca frosted and decorated the cake, lighting a single candle.

The group sang for him, and he made sure to blow out the candle prematurely so that they’d know he was there. He watched as the girl laughed, tears welling in her eyes before relighting the candle and starting the song over. Luca blew out the flame and the group gathered around the table, talking about Luke and eating his favorite cake.

They’d stayed until the early evening, the two fathers and Luca retiring into the living room to watch a movie. Luke stayed by the girl’s side as she and his mom had a cup of coffee at the kitchen table.

“I still write letters to him you know” she spoke, voice lower due to her older age.

“Yeah, I figured” Emily smiled reassuringly. Luke wasn’t sure what the two women were talking about, but he didn’t mind. He’d always liked their relationship, that they were friends. His attention turned to the girl as she reached and grabbed three journals from her bag.

“He’s been apart of my life for so long, it just felt weird to leave him out of all the milestones. And I guess I just continued because I thought if I didn’t, I would lose him. Sounds silly…” she said, placing the three notebooks on the table. Emily smiled and grabbed her hand comfortingly.

“It’s not silly. I talk to him every day. About silly things too, like how Maggie up the street bough a security camera but doesn’t know how to use it. Things he’d get a kick out of” The two girls chuckled remembering the strong personality of the boy. But the boy wasn’t paying attention, instead he was staring at the three notebooks sitting on the table. The three notebooks filled with letters to him.

“Emily, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to leave the books here…. For him” the girl said softly, placing a gentle hand atop the journals. Emily simply nodded, and with that, the girl grabbed the journals and made her way down the hallway leading to Luke’s room. Luke simply followed, curious by her actions.

When she’d opened the door to his room, he saw that nothing had changed. It looked exactly how he’d left it, minus the neatly made bed in the corner. Unopened Christmas presents sat collecting dust in the corner and his heart winced at the idea of his mother placing these in his room with the hope he’d return home. He watched as the girl sat on the edge of his bed, gently sitting beside her and watching her with wide eyes.

“I like to think you come back here sometimes, bub. That you forgave your mom and you come back to check on her. She misses you. I miss you” she whispered the last part, “These are for you, Luke. I love you” And with that, the girl left the room, gently closing the door behind her.

But Luke remained motionless on the bed, staring at where she’d left the journals. He picked up the first one labeled 1997-2001 and began reading.

“Dear Luke…”