#Side Stone Diamond Engagement Rings

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

i’ve never made a request before so sorry if this is bad but if you could write something about matt murdock with a fake dating trope like that would be so cute, especially if there’s feelings realized during/after it :)

a/n: i swear, i tried to just keep this short and sweet like how i usually keep requests, but then the fantasy i came up with was just too fun and too much like a fucking romcom not to just let myself go ham and turn it into a full-on long fic

word count: 3778

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

Leaning your weight against the bar, you waited for Josie to return with another round of beers for you and your friends, who still remained exactly where you’d left them, all clustered around the pool table further into the space. 

Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the ring so often glued to your fingers, passing the heirloom from each digit and sliding it onto the next. It had been your grandmother’s, and ever since her passing, the simple golden circle with a little jade embedded at the cusp of it, rarely stayed in your jewellery box as the act of simply glancing down at it on your finger somehow offered you a drop of comfort in moments of mundane gloom. 

As the heirloom arrived at your left ring finger and slid down over the knuckle, a familiar voice suddenly emanated like an echo after the bar’s front door had swung open. 

“Y/n?” your whole body froze up at the unexpected timbre. 

Slowly, you twisted around to discover none other than your ex, wide eyes trained on you as he clutched the hand of a leggy blonde. 

“Henry!” you gasped, hoping they mistook the horrified look on your face for innocent shock, “oh my god…” 

Without any warning, the next thing you knew, he’d yanked your stunned form into a hug, “how the hell are you?” he clapped your shoulder as if you were old school chums, “it’s been so long.”

“I’m–, uhm, fine,” you managed to reply. 

“Yeah?” he smiled, the insincerity in your tone completely flying over his head, “that’s great.” 

Simply to be polite, you awkwardly asked, “…how are you?” even though you truly didn’t wish to know the answer.  

“I’m good, yeah, life’s been kinda crazy lately because–, oh,” he suddenly paused to glance back at the girl by his side, “Y/n, you remember Rebecca, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed and offered her a glance, fearing steam might billow out of your ears at any moment, “hi.”

“Hey,” she smiled brightly as she tossed her luscious locks over her shoulder, “and please don’t mind him,” she clapped a palm over Henry’s chest, “he’s just freaking out, you know, usual guy stuff before finally getting tied down.”

“I’m sorry,” you blinked, nearly pinching yourself to test if this was a nightmare or not, “before what?”

Rebecca then held up her left hand to flash you the massive rock nestled on her fourth finger. 

“I finally popped the question!” Henry grinned and draped an arm around his fiancé.

“Wow, oh wow, that’s–…” you sputtered as the blonde promptly shoved her hand in your face for you to get a better look, “that’s a really big rock, right there, on your finger…” your touch floated up and tilted her palm slightly, the light from the neon sign close by glinting in the diamond, “congratulations…”

“Thanks!” she smiled down at the ring herself before her fingers suddenly captured your own and twisted your hand around, “oh wait, congrats to you too!” 

“What?” you still simply tried to keep breathing through this agonising gut-punch of an encounter. 

“I know they say that size doesn’t matter,” Rebecca eyed the tiny green stone that adorned your grandmother’s ring, “and it doesn’t! I mean, that’s so pretty,” she uttered in a sugary sweet and insincere tone that made you feel as if you were back in high school again, “understated, simple.” 

“Ah, no way,” Henry peeked down at your hand, “you’re engaged too?”

“Uh…” you let out a shaky breath, “yep,” the lie then suddenly flew out past your lips before you had a chance to stop it, “that’s me! I’m getting married.” 

“That’s amazing,” your ex let out an airy chuckle, “who’s the lucky guy?”

But before your lips could part and let out another lie, Josie returned, “here you go, hon,” and slid four beer bottles across the bar to you before adding, “and would you tell Foggy to stop sitting on the edge of the pool table? It’s old and I can’t be responsible if it breaks on him.”

“Sure thing,” you promised and snatched up the drinks. 

“Is that your man?” Henry cast a glance to the lawyer Josie had gestured to, “Foggy, was it?”

“Foggy?” a soft giggle couldn’t help but bubble out of your lungs, “no! Don’t get me wrong, he’s great, but no, sadly, he’s already taken.” 

“Then who is it?” 

“Is it the other guy over there?” Rebecca chimed in as they both sent their glances towards your friends, “the one in the light blue shirt and tinted glasses?”

“Uh, yeah…” you squeaked as you slowly turned to look at Matt as well, “that’s–, uh, that’s him,” you watched as he readjusted his grip on the cue stick in his hand, “that’s my future husband…”

“Hm,” a sliver of judgment slipped out of Henry, “wouldn’t have pegged him to be your type.”

“Well, maybe my type has changed,” you stated, letting your lingering resentment show before you noticed how harsh it had come out and your stomach immediately began to twist and knot in regret, “I–…” you swiftly winched, “sorry,” and averted your gaze, “have a nice evening, uh–, I’m gonna go back to my friends,” you stumbled as you tried to escape. 

Though as you turned to walk away, Henry’s voice found your ears one last time, “bye!” before you heard his fiancé turn to him. 

“Pookie? Would you order me a cosmo?” her voice began to fade into the background, “I’ll go find us a table…” 

You simultaneously felt as if a truck had just run you over as your feet carried you back towards your friends, yet also completely numb, as if you’d been turned into a floating ghost of the person you used to be. 

“Who the hell was that and why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Foggy asked cautiously as he grabbed two of the bottles in your grasp and handed one off to Matt. 

Passing one of the remaining drinks off to Karen, you then lifted your own up to your lips before tipping it back and downing around half of its contents. Once you tilted the dark green bottle back down, you were out of breath as you began to explain, “that,” you wiped your bottom lip with one of your knuckles, “was my ex,” you used that same finger to hazily point back over your shoulder, “and his fiancé,” your eyes stayed fuzzy as you added, “who happen to be the girl that he cheated on me with for a year before I one day finally caught them together.”

“Oh my god…” Karen breathed, her bottle frozen halfway on its journey up towards her lips. 

“It was on easter,” you shared, “he thought I had gone back home to see my family, but I’d actually decided to secretly do this whole big surprise, like I thought I was in fucking rom-com or something,” you sighed at your past self, “but then when he got home from work, and I was all decked out, waiting on the bed, in bunny ears and everything,” you heatedly gestured to the top of your own head, “he wasn’t alone.”

“Wow…” Foggy stared. 

“Yep…” you exhaled heavily, taking another swig before you made the mistake of glancing back over your shoulder just as Rebecca shrugged off her coat and slinked onto a stool at one of the small tables, “fuck!” you exclaimed as if you’d just stubbed your toe, “she’s even hotter than I remembered. How is that possible?” 

“Oh, she’s not that pretty,” Karen tried, but you swiftly cut her off. 

“You shut your face, she’s basically a human-sized Barbie,” your glare roamed one last time from the top of her platinum locks to the bottoms of her high stilettos, “god…” you sighed as you finally averted your gaze and lifted your bottle to drown your sorrows, “I was such an idiot back there. It was like my brain just stopped working and–, oh my god!” your palm shot up to cover your mouth as you then suddenly recalled the lie that had slipped out. Slowly, your wide eyes drifted to Matt, who still remained silent, “oh no…” 

“What is it?” Foggy chimed in. 

“Matt…” you uttered tensely, knowing your friend well enough to be aware of just how much of the interaction with your ex he had overheard, “I am so sorry…”

“What?” Karen’s glance darted between you both, “what’s going on?”

Paralysing embarrassment churned your stomach and choked out any attempt you made to share the truth. But luckily, as your erratic heartbeat thumped and found Matt’s sharp ears, he eventually filled in instead, “…they thought that she was engaged as well and then assumed that I was the guy.” 

“I am so, so sorry,” you gasped, “I don’t know why I didn’t correct them.”

But to your amazement, Matthew simply shrugged and offered you a reassuring smile, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“I was just fiddling with my ring and then they just–…” you then snuffed out your frantic explanation and instead repeated once again, “I’m sorry…”

Saddling up beside you, Karen planted a palm on your shoulder, “hey, if that was my ex, then I’d wanna give him some of his own medicine as well,” she stated, “if not just straight up cut off his balls, which is what he really deserves.” 

A faint smile then began to soften your expression as you glanced around at your supportive friends, Foggy briefly reaching out to pat your other shoulder. 

But as you averted your eyes to the nearly empty bottle in your grasp, a thought suddenly struck you like a bolt of lightning, “wait, I have an idea…” your gaze slowly lifted to lock on Matt, “I mean, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I totally get it, but would you mind, just while they are here, to–, uhm…”

Cocking his eyebrow, he finished your sentence, “…to pretend to be your fiancé?” 

“I know, it’s stupid, and I should probably just go home right now instead of playing some weird and immature game of revenge or whatever,” you uttered as you made the decision to lie in the grave you’d dug for yourself, “but I would forever be in your debt, I'm serious.” 

Sucking in a breath, he barely had to think about it before he murmured, “sure.”

“Really?” you gasped, your brows shooting up, “you’ll do it?” 

“Yeah, why not?” Matt shrugged, “it’s the very least he deserves for treating you like that.”

“Oh,” you crossed the short distance between you two and threw your arms around him. It took a second before you felt him hug you back, but when the alcohol got to your head and made you mutter, “I love you,” into his shoulder, a low chuckle rumbled in the lawyer's chest before you parted ways. 

“So,” Karen then began to fish out the colourful spheres and roll them back into the green felt, “do we still wanna play another game?”

“Hell yeah,” Foggy picked a cue stick back up before adding a playful threat, “you’re not beating me again this time, Page.”

Once the table was set up for another round of pool and you were a few turns in, your gaze couldn’t help but wander back towards the other end of the bar too often to keep track of. Though, soon on one of the fleeting looks, your eyes grew wide as you discovered you weren’t the only one sneaking glances.

Discreetly, you shifted closer to Matthew and leaned in to whisper, “he’s looking over,” however, when he then draped an arm around your frame, you couldn’t help but stiffen up, as you hadn’t thought that far in the plan yet, “what are you–”

“Shh,” Matt hushed your squeak, “just lean into me,” he shifted to stand tall behind you, arms enveloped around your form as he slowly drew you back against his chest, “smile,” his low voice tickled the shell of your ear and caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “and don’t look at him.” 

Redirecting your vision back towards the game before you, you narrowly managed to catch sight of the silent slut-shaming the other lawyer flashed his friend with but a glance, before he went back to the mischievous mission he was on. 

“Foggy, would you quit it?” Karen grumbled at the man beside her as he wildly waved both of his hands in her periphery, successfully knocking off her concentration as she tried to line up her shot. 

“No way,” he kept up his flapping, even causing Karen’s golden locks to get picked up by the breeze he produced. 

“You’re cheating.”

“Nope, I am not touching you nor the table,” he stated as if he was in court, “distracting you doesn’t break any rules.”

And as she finally made her attempt, the ball didn’t go in, causing her to explode in a roar, “damn it, Fog!”

“Ha, ha, yes!” he jumped as she straightened back up, “you know, I taste something right now, what could that be? Oh yeah, victory. And it tastes sweet as candy store.” 

“Urgh,” Karen rolled her eyes at him before her glare landed upon the both of you, “Matt, your turn. Would you please set him in his place?”

“Gladly,” Matt chuckled, and as he shifted closer to the pool table, he nudged your side and asked, “hey, would you give me a hand?”

Swallowing a chuckle as you already knew he very much didn’t need it, you cocked an eyebrow, “you want my help?”  

“Yeah,” he uttered clearly and let his real message seep through his tone, guiding your gaze to flicker back toward Henry, who’s stare was still locked upon you both, “so come help me.” 

“Oh!” it finally clicked in your brain, “right,” and you swiftly slid in beside him. 

With bated breath, you grabbed Matt’s hand that wasn’t clutching the pole, and guided it over the ivory ball that rested close to one of the corners. As you began to map out and tell him where each of the other spheres were, your eyes flicked over to notice just how close you now stood, as your nose nearly grazed against his stubbly cheek as you murmured guidingly. When you retracted your touch, you barely noticed how a few of Matt’s fingers reacted, faintly following your fading palm for but a second before it floated back down to the white orb below it. 

Once he’d made his shot, you lingered in the proximity and whispered, “do you think they’re buying it?” 

“Hm?” 

“This,” your eyes momentarily flickered back towards your ex across the bar, “us.”

Matthew’s brows then floated up as you reeled him back in to the matter at hand, “oh, I–, probably.” 

“Or should we do something else?” your mind kept on spinning, “I don’t know, I feel like I’ve completely forgotten how all of that works,” you shared, “kinda just numbed and cut off that part of myself after he broke my heart, it was just how I had to get through it, shut down a little bit because suddenly romance was terrifying…”

“...can I ask you something?” he asked quietly after a breath, and when you offered him a hum in confirmation, he uttered, “are you still in love with him?” 

Time stretched out before you finally replied, “I was, for a very long time…” your voice stayed small, “…but no, not anymore… I kind of thought I was, but then seeing him again cleared it all up. All I feel when I look at him now is rage,” you exhaled, “and pity, just because I know him too well, know everything that’s messed up about him…” silence encumbered you both for a moment before you then opened your mouth once more and said, “so, should we hold hands or something?” you asked plainly, though when a genuine laugh then began to billow out of Matthew, your eyes blinked up at him as your brows swiftly knit together, “what?”

“You know,” he tried to snuff out his chuckle, “if I was actually your fiancé, I wouldn’t just stand around and hold your hand all night,” he then leaned in the short distance till his lips nearly tickled the shell of your ear, “I would have dragged you into the bathroom by now and forced the whole bar to hear us fuck.” 

“I–, u-uhm,” you flusteredly stammered as your face began to heat up, “y-yeah, yeah, that’s good too,” you barely registered your own words as they slipped out past your lips, “if that’s what you wanna do–, I mean! Shut up!” you squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you regained your own senses, “just hold my hand, you dick,” you cursed over his laughter as he swiftly slipped his palm into your own.

“Cut it out, Karen,” Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and caught your attention. 

Glancing over, you spotted as Karen was giving him some of his own medicine, pettily leaning into his eye line, “what? You were the one saying that distractions weren’t against the rules,” she continued to glare in hopes of throwing him off his game, “why? Is this not working? Do you need me to scream directly in your ear instead?”

“Oh, would you?” he sarcastically looked to her, his pitch climbing up high at his words, “going deaf in one ear is exactly what I need to beat you.”

As your wandering gaze then flickered back towards the opposite end of the bar, your eyes grew wide as you spotted only Rebecca still seated at the small table, pink cocktail in her grasp. 

“Shit,” you spotted Henry as he crossed the room, confidently walking precisely in your direction, “he’s coming over,” you hissed, and in your muppet-like panic, your hands clasped each side of Matt’s face and yanked him in for a kiss. 

At first, he froze up as you continued to freak out, but then, as his broad palms slowly slid over your waist, all of your alarm began to melt away. It felt as if you were drifting off to sleep as you relaxed into the kiss. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that kissing Matt would feel like this, not that such a fantasy was something you pondered often or even at all, but as you felt his tongue flicker out to dance softly against your own, your knees beneath you wobbled as you lost yourself completely. How long the peck drew out remained a mystery, as when you eventually parted, the reasoning behind it wouldn’t emerge in your memory no matter how hard you tried. 

Though as you stood there, blinking back at Matt, still utterly spellbound by the unexpected feelings currently bubbling and bursting inside of you, the man now standing off to the side cleared his throat and brought you back down to earth. 

“Bunny–, I mean, Y/n,” you whipped your head around to catch sight of your ex, “just thought it would have been awkward if I didn’t come over here to introduce myself before me and Becca took off,” he muttered before his gaze fell to Matt, his arms slowly fading from your form, “I'm Henry, nice to meet you,” your ex then offered his hand, though the lawyer by your side didn’t grasp it, even if his heightened senses had lent him to pick up on the gesture. 

“Matt Murdock,” he uttered on a cold exhale. 

Stuffing his rejected palm into his pocket, Henry then asked, “what do you do?” 

“Matthew’s a lawyer,” you took over, slotting yourself into Matt’s side before you dramatically clasped a hand over his chest, “saves people for a living. That’s actually why we’re out celebrating tonight, he just won yet another case.” 

“Oh, well congratulations then,” Henry offered in well-forged petty politeness. 

“Yeah, I was there, watching him do his thing,” you uttered as some bitter goblin of resentment then took over your soul and caused you to say, “and oh boy, I tell you, if only it would have been socially acceptable for me to interrupt the trial just to rip his clothes off, because wow.”

A scoff then rippled in Henry’s chest, “okay, sure,” his stare upon you narrowed as he then grumbled, “we both know you’re not exactly the groupie type of girlfriend.” 

“Well, maybe your sorry ass was never worth her supporting you in that way,” Matt suddenly cut in, “maybe because you never bothered treated her that way in return,” his guess hit the bullseye, “and maybe that has a little something to do with why I was the one to put a ring on her finger and not you,” your heart thumped in your chest as Matt’s touch returned to the small of your back, protectively sliding over your waist as he continued to speak in a low and chillingly stern tone, “that or you really are as terrible of a lay as she told me you were, during those very first nights when she finally learned what it was like to be with someone who wasn’t a complete fucking idiot.” 

Utterly stunned, you watched Henry’s expression as he scrambled his brain for a way to crawl back from that, but eventually, when no suitable words came to his pea-sized brain, his feet slowly began to shuffle back till his hand had snatched up his fiancé’s and he’d yanked her with him out of the bar. 

As the door swung closed behind the pair, a celebratory squeal burst from your lungs, “oh my god! Matt, that was incredible!” you jumped in place before throwing your arms around him, “I don’t know how to thank you.” 

Tangling his own arms around you, he uttered, “I’m sure we’ll come up with some way you can make it up to me.” 

And as you withdrew, just enough to smile back at him, your gaze began to drift back down towards his lip just before Foggy’s voice cut through the palpable tension.

“Do I need to remind you guys that you’re not actually engaged?” 

“No,” Matt then murmured as the two of you parted ways, quietly enough for his words to be completely inaudible, “but we could be...” 

“What?” you glanced over at him. 

“What?” he echoed in return, though a bit too quickly. 

“Did you say something?”

“Me? No,” he tried to conceal his lie with a cough, “I-I, uh, think it’s your turn,” he then changed the subject, gesturing to the pool table behind you. 

  © 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[diamondsluvore]

Side Stone Engagement Rings at Unbeatable Prices - Luvore Diamonds' New Year Sale!

Celebrate love in style! Luvore Diamonds presents Side Stone Engagement Rings at unbeatable prices this New Year. Sparkle into forever with our exquisite collection. Shop now and make your commitment extraordinary. Cheers to a brilliant beginning!

[decorisdiamonds]

Honolulu Shoulder Set Diamond Engagement Rings That Radiate Elegance

Discover the epitome of sophistication with our Honolulu Shoulder Set Diamond Engagement Rings. Crafted with precision and adorned with exquisite diamonds, these rings not only symbolize your love but also capture the essence of the breathtaking beauty of Honolulu.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Mrs. Malfoy Riddle - Mattheo Riddle

summary: mattheo doesn't care that you're betrothed to his best friend, especially not when you're so in love. so he guarantees one last night before you're officially his. wc: 1k+ cw: smut, public sex (on private property), fingering, kind of cheating (r! is arranged to marry draco)

Ever since you were a young girl, you knew how likely it was that you’d end up marrying Draco Malfoy. Your families had pushed you together, ensuring a close-knit friendship between you, so that when the day came for them to reveal the news of your engagement, you wouldn’t put up a fight. But ever since Mattheo Riddle whizzed into your life, you knew he was the love of your life.

It was risky, yes. The gazebo wasn’t far off on the estate to the manor, but he was irresistible, and in that moment, the only thing that mattered was Mattheo’s lips against yours, his hand softly placed on your chin to keep your lips slightly parted, tongue dipping in and out of your mouth as he kissed you.

Your legs were strewn over Mattheo’s laps where you both sat on the gazebo’s cold stone bench, but the summer’s chilly wind was shielded by Mattheo’s kiss, sending warmth through your veins. You tightly gripped Mattheo’s collar, tugging him as close to you as possible as he ran one hand up and down your thigh, the other one travelling to hold your left hand, pulling it away from his collar to intertwine your fingers together. Mattheo groaned into your mouth, tongue aggressively pushing past your lips to glide against yours, assertively claiming control of the kiss as his fingers brushed against the cold ring on your finger.

The rich metal banding your finger had a big diamond placed atop it, tying your loyalty to the Malfoy boy whose best friend had stolen your heart. Mattheo broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips together. He looked down to where you held hands, pulling his hand away from yours to trace the expensive ring on your finger. You saw Mattheo’s eyebrows furrow, his lips pulling into a frown. You moved a hand to cup his cheek but Mattheo had already averted his attention from the ring, placing possessive kisses on your neck, biting just softly enough that it wouldn’t leave marks.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell my father I want to marry you.” He started in between kisses, snaking your fingers together once more. “And you’ll be mine.” You gasped as he started sucking on a spot on your neck, eyes widening as you realised he was intending on leaving bruising hickeys on your skin. “Mattheo, you can’t-” “Draco will be out of your way before he gets to realise I’ve made my mark on you.” Your thighs unconsciously clenched together at his words and a moan broke past your parted lips. Mattheo smiled slightly, finally connecting your lips in a kiss as his hand trailed under the skirt of your dress, with no intent of stopping as he reached the hem of your panties.

“Come on, one last orgasm before you’re officially mine.” And just as you were about to object, questioning your location, he started toying with your clit, immediately extracting a high-pitched moan from you. Mattheo kissed you deeply, swallowing all your cries of pleasure as he gathered your wetness, bringing two fingers to your entrance so he could slide them inside you. You gasped, mumbling your lover’s name as he swung a leg over the other side of the bench, manoeuvring you so your back rested against his chest.

Mattheo curved his fingers into you, pulling one of your legs to the side to spread them wider, giving him easier access to plunge his digits inside you. You arched your back against Mattheo’s chest, and the boy cursed loudly when your sounds dispersed into the air. He quickly moved his free hand over your mouth, glancing around the gazebo to make sure there was no one nearby.

Mattheo heard the muffled cry of his name and he shushed you softly, muttering words of praise in your ear before beginning to press kisses wherever he could reach. He looked at you questioningly as you took hold of Mattheo’s hand over your mouth, moving his hand around so you could take two of his fingers in your mouth, immediately beginning to suck on them. Mattheo groaned as your tongue ran over his digits, the feeling going straight to his cock.

He pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, causing tears to gather in your eyes as he continued thrusting into you, palm pressing against your clit ever time his hand thrusted closer to your cunt. Mattheo grinned as your moans vibrated against his fingers, feeling you grind down on his hands as you chased your orgasm. Mattheo curled his fingers softly, chuckling softly when you threw your head back on his shoulder, thighs clamping together as you finally came all over his fingers. Mattheo pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth as your moans grew louder, gagging you slightly before he pulled his fingers out of your cunt. You grabbed his second wrist, pushing his fingers out of your mouth and turning around on the bench just in time to see him put his cum-coated fingers into his mouth, sucking on them while keeping his eyes trained on you.

Mattheo was quick to have his hands on you again, pulling you closer to him to slam his lips against yours. You moaned softly, snaking your fingers into Mattheo’s dark curls before pulling away softly.

“Go to bed sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Riddle.”

Your cheeks flushed at Mattheo’s use of his last name, and you stood on shaky legs before making your way back into the manor. You shot one last look at the gazebo, watching closely as Mattheo waved at you before apparating away.

The next day, you were woken up by your mother, who was demanding the Malfoys’ engagement ring back. “The Dark Lord has demanded you marry his son. You're no longer getting married to Draco Malfoy, but to Mattheo Riddle. You’ll be meeting him and his family tonight, start getting ready.” And as she walked away, you did something you never thought would happen: you held both your hands in front of your chest and shut your eyes, thanking Tom Riddle for the happiness he would bring upon you.

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl,, @juliet-017, @boromoony

[jcolondon]

An engagement is a significant life event since it symbolises the couple’s promise to spend the rest of their lives together. Having an engagement ring on your finger is a tangible reminder of this beautiful time. It’s a good idea to pick out your engagement ring jointly if you’re not planning on a surprise proposal. Your darling can choose her Side Stone Engagement Rings in an open and honest environment.

[preferredjewelers]

Looking for the perfect engagement ring or wedding band? Look no further than Anderson, SC's premier jeweler for Fine Bridal Jewelry: Score’s Jewelers. If you're looking for a more personalized touch, you can even Design Your Own Engagement Rings with the help of their expert staff. Shop online today and find the perfect piece of jewelry for your special occasion.

[ryewwww]

Naoya who forces the beautiful shy heiress of another clan to be his wife and mother to his future sons?

Constantly breeding her every night to make sure she’s carrying his heirs?

-> yes yes & yes

⚠️: NONCON, misogyny (it’s naoya💀), unprotected sex, objectification, meek!reader, dacryphilia, choking, rough sex, virgin!reader, abusive!naoya, Stockholm Syndrome

Ever since you were a little girl, you had a crush on Gojo Satoru, your neighbour

His clan was friendly with yours, often stopping by to share some fruits and vegetables they grew in their garden

Gojo would often come over to play, (we’ll mostly show off his technique but you didn’t mind because it was fascinating).

Once you hit the awkward teenage phase, Gojo stopped talking to you entirely and you were upset about it

You secretly hoped to be wedded to him one day. So you didn’t bother to scout, because maybe one day the Gojo clan will come over and ask for your hand in marriage.

But years later, hope was crushed when the Gojo clan announced that they had found the perfect wife for Satoru and well, it wasn’t you.

So now your family is in full search for a man who will marry you.

Every man they spoke to were pretty mediocre, definitely not from the top three families but hey, neither were you.

Your family had finally found a man they were satisfied with. He came from a reputable family, his technique was fine, and honestly, he was just the best option for you.

You had yet to meet him. But there was a gathering happening on Saturday where you’ll meet him, his family and get engaged.

You would’ve preferred to get to know him a little before slipping a ring on, but you already wasted so much time waiting for Satoru, and now your family’s on your tail to get married.

Before Saturday could happen, Friday did.

You came home from town, not expecting to be greeted by the Zen’in family in your living room.

You blood freezes, in shock, because they’re a prestigious family, sitting in your living room.

They had never spoken to your clan, let alone come to your home, so your mind filled up with a million different thoughts

Was a war about to start? Was there betrayal amongst the clans? Has someone lost their life?

You look around, the whole Zen’in family was there, even the two little girls, seated in their mothers lap

Then your eyes catch his.

Naoya. You knew about him, knew that he was a not so nice person. He had a superiority complex and god, you hated people like him. (Kinda ironic because you had a crush on Gojo, but whateva)

When you snap back to reality, you give a deep bow, showing your respect to the family and they all watch. They eyes are glued to you, like you’re the reason why they’re here in the first place.

That’s when Naoya stands in front of you, you look up and his eyes narrow down on you, his lips twitching into a smirk.

“I’m here to ask for your hand in marriage.”

Your heart drops, eyes widening at his statement

You turn your head to your mother and she looks at you excitedly

Right, this is the Zen’in clan. This would boost your family’s reputation tremendously. They’re wealthy, powerful, influential, and yet they’re here, asking for a nobody’s hand.

It’s not like you had a choice in the matter.

He pulls out a box, flipping it open to show off the ring. The diamond glimmers on its own, and you’re mesmerized.

The ring was a perfect fit, the stone laying effortlessly on your finger, like it’s meant to be

The wedding happens a week after. It was beautiful, elegant, an event where all the clans put their differences aside and came to celebrate your unity

But it didn’t take long for Naoya to start showing his true colours.

You knew that he could be insufferable, but a small part of you hoped that maybe he would show you a different side

In some way he did kinda show you a different side. Just not the one you were hoping for.

On your wedding night, he had you back in his room, legs spread as you took your purity.

You were truthful, telling him that this was your first time, and you thought there would be a mutual understanding that he needs to be gentle.

But Naoya? Gentle? Nah.

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing it when you cried a little too hard. He didn’t let you adjust, instead he slapped your ass and told you to, “shut the fuck up and take it.”

You bled down on the white sheet, one hand clawing around his wrist that was keeping your neck pinned down, while the other helplessly pushed on his chest.

But there was no use. He was too much bigger, too much stronger. Naoya had zero self control, especially when it came to you because he’s waited for you for so long.

Your beauty and gracefulness captured his eyes.

He remembers the first time he saw you, it was in town. You were with your friend, shopping around for cute kimonos.

You were glowing, an absolute sight for the eyes. You were soft-spoken, sweet and gentle. You unconsciously looked for the good in people and man, that made Naoya wanna corrupt the fuck out of you.

He watched the way you cared for others. He watched you plan and create goodie bags for the less fortunate. Always giving and giving, because it made you happy.

He knew that you would be an amazing mother for his children. So when word went around that you were getting engaged on Saturday, he gathered his family on Friday morning, announced that he would like to wed to you, and by lunch, his entire clan was in your home.

He didn’t care that you were from a less powerful clan.

A. because he can protect you

B. One more thing he can hold over your head

“You’re a fucking nobody, that’s what you are! Nobody would even know your fucking name if it weren’t for me, slut.”

Naoya sucked the life out of you. Constantly breeding you and berating you to be a women, to cook and clean, all while bearing his child.

He honestly gave no fucks about how you were doing. He didn’t view you as your own person. He viewed you as his. So if he told you to stop crying, you better stop fucking crying or it’ll lead to a harder punishment.

He ended up expanding his family’s home, creating a wing where he could use and abuse you relentlessly.

When you gave him his first son, he was proud, and adored his son. But soon after giving birth, you were back in your room, screams muffled with a pillow as he pounds another kid into you.

The worst part of it all was, nobody was able to help you. Everyone saw the way Naoya treated you, but if you dared to speak against him, quite frankly you were asking for a death wish.

So you sucked it up. You selflessly got yourself into even more trouble when you noticed how they abused Maki. You would stop your husband, begging him not to hurt her and to take it out on you instead.

He gladly did.

The only time where he wasn’t fully hurting you was when you were pregnant. Not because he had mercy on you, he just didn’t wanna hurt his children.

You suffered for years. Then Stockholm Syndrome did its thing. You became so reliant on him, he made you that way.

You still tried to raise your kids the best you could, raise them to be nothing like their father.

You could only hope for the best.

Sorry for the shit ending, I didn’t know how to end it off😭

[elysianightsss]

WHERE THE LONELY ONES ROAM | PART ONE

“Can I have a glass of water?” You chirp from the hospital bed, pillows all fluffed and propped up for your comfort. He nodded grabbing the empty plastic cup from the bedside table and leaving the room.

John he said his name was, you were so confused as to why you should care after waking up and being told by the nurses you had been in a serious car accident. Your husband, he had claimed he was and though you were exhausted, you had been ready to argue that was impossible but he flashed his wedding ring that was silver just like the rings around your finger.

The diamond engagement ring and wedding ring fit perfectly, he pulled them off and on the inside rim was your initials and his engraved with a date, your wedding day he told you. You suppose that was enough for you, besides he seemed so sweet and caring. So comforting and husbandly, why would you try to argue against his words.

He stayed by your side as the doctor came to tell you that you’re suffering with amnesia and it was unlikely your memories would return. John relaxed at this, which you didn’t quite understand but maybe he was just relieved that nothing was broken. Just a cut on the side of your head and memory loss.

After being discharged with like a billion different pill bottles, he took you ‘home’, a large, cabin like house miles away from civilisation. A regular sized garden and lots of trees surrounding the area, the only way to leave the place safely seemed to be by car. Not that that should be something you need to worry about, your husband should protect you.

He carried you inside and placed you on the softest sofa. The living room looked lovely, pictures of the two of you in pretty patterned frames you’re sure you must have chosen given they’re suited to your taste. Though you notice a couple look a little distorted from close up, maybe it was the way the photo was taken or the lense? Or maybe it’s just old, you tell yourself.

John is in the kitchen, you can see him through the alcove that leads into the mid century modern kitchen. It’s designed once again to your taste, you hope your husband hasn’t just catered to you in this big house and he’s sprinkled somewhere in the architecture too.

He’s sorting the pills you were given by the hospital, reading the bottles intensely before moving onto the instructions and schedules for each one. You feel as if you’re not allowed to move from the position he’d plonked you in though he never specifically said those words to you. It’s a feeling deep in your gut that if you stand without asking for his help, he’ll be angry with you.

So you ask, he turns to you and grins? “You don’t need to ask to move around your own house, love. Unless you need help,” he says coming around the kitchen island and through the alcove into the living room, stopping right in front of you. He hovers over you, blues gazing into your eyes “then ask as much as you’d like.”

You nod slightly feeling a little like prey under this clear predator's stare. “Will you show me where the bathroom is?” You don’t remember where it is no matter how hard you try. John holds his hand out to you and though you hesitate, you take it. He leads you up the stairs and to the second door on the right, opening the door you find yet again an unfamiliar room but you thank him nonetheless.

He stays standing there even when you walk inside and close the door you don’t hear any receding footsteps. Shrugging you head over to the toilet to pee, as you sit you take a moment to look around the room. It’s only a small bathroom, a walk-in shower to the left or the toilet and a bunch of counters with a built-in sink to the right of you.

There are little things about yourself that you know, that are set in stone even without your memories and knowing you’d never like a house without a bath in it is one of those things. You loved a bath after a rough day at work…

Work. You stand quickly, finishing your business and washing your hands. You basically burst out of the sliding barn like door. John looks at you surprised though he remains quiet, is patient as you struggle to find your words.

“Work?” Is all you manage but he seems to understand, his pupils dilating unnaturally to where you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“You quit your job two years ago honey.” John says almost robotic, it seems rehearsed and cold. But you accept it. He starts to walk away when you have another thought.

“What about my family? I must have some right?” You try to grab onto any thin veil of hope that you have someone else out there other than a man you don’t remember.

John turns back to you, once again seeming robot like, “You have a brother who lives far away, I’ve notified him of what happened, but love, there’s no guarantee he can make it here because of work.”

“No parents?” You question confused, it makes John sigh with a shake of his head and a quiet ‘no’.

According to your husband you were an orphan, but that didn’t expunge the feeling of love and affection you seem to know you had growing up. A kind of love you don’t receive from a sibling.

He simply shakes his head once more. John holds his hand out to you and though you hesitate, you take it. He leads you into a bedroom, “This is our room.” He tells you letting go of your hand and watching you take it all in. This room is not catered to your taste but it looks like he’s tried to change that.

The dark blue paint has a few painting hung here and there, a dark oak wardrobe and matching queen sized bed. What peaks your interest the most though is the big glass window. John shows you how it opens up onto a balcony, you can see forest upon forest up here. There really was no other way to leave here safety.

“What’s my brother’s name?” You ask turning to John who smiles a little at your question, seems to be the only one that hasn’t irked him so far.

“Simon.” He replies softly, “Come on let’s go back in, it’s freezing this time of year. Should even have some snow over the next few weeks.” He tells you wrapping an arm around your shoulder to guide you inside.

John cooks dinner for you both and while you sit in the cozy dining room eating, all you can think about is Simon. Your brother who you don’t remember. You can’t wait to meet him, you refrain from saying this to John. He seemed annoyed when you originally asked about family. Maybe he and Simon don’t get along? You’ll have to find out from your brother, you suppose.

You offer to do the dishes but John stands firm on no. He does them quickly and efficiently, placing them away in the correct cupboards while you watch on silently. John doesn’t ask you if you’re comfortable sharing a bed with him, after all he is technically a stranger to you. It’s the only thing that has truly bothered you since you have woken up.

He simply gets into bed next to you, kissing your hairline and asks you if you need anything before he goes to sleep. You say no and hear the ruffle of the sheets, feel the movement of him turning over and soon you hear snores. It’s only at this point you notice your shoulders have been tense this entire time, only when knowing he’s unconscious do you relax enough to fall asleep.

The peace doesn’t last long, nightmares plague your mind. A man with you, you’re happy. A fight. Running. Driving. Then a car crash. Glass and metal flying everywhere. You’re upside down but still strapped into your seat. Warm blood dripping up your head. Footsteps. A light being shone in your eyes. The hospital. Beeping. Shouting in the distance. A big bang.

Then your eyes are shooting open with a scream slipping from your lips, vision blurry, you’re hyperventilating. Blue eyes come into view as arms wrap around your body. “Alright sweetheart, you’re okay. You’re safe. It’s okay I’ve got you.” The man comforts you and you have to ask panicked what his name is.

“It’s John, it’s me honey. It’s John.” He repeats it twice, nothing but patience in his voice.

“John.” You say loudly in between breaths.

The tendrils of panic wrap around your limbs, tightening at the same time John starts to rock you in his hold. He whispers calming words in your ear but they do nothing for the state you’re in.

“What the fuck.” You shudder, feeling like the ground is shaking beneath you. It’s like a dark cloud falls over your eyes as a ringing begins in your ears. Walls colliding in your head, you’re scrambling to understand, pulling open every file that’s been shut away in the far corners of your mind for this man, for this house, for this life.

For you.

It’s too much with too little information, you can’t do it. You don’t understand. Your brain trying too hard until everything goes black. Once again you hear the beeping of a machine, the fuses of a doctor M something. You hear a concerned voice you don’t recognise….

“Sweetheart?”

You startle because you don’t know who that is calling you a sweet little pet name, you flinch because you’re not in the hospital like you were two seconds ago. You feel a scream build and bubble in your throat because how the fuck did you get in the kitchen with a ruggedly handsome man stood in front of you looking at you expectantly as if you had the answer to the question he was asking.

Staring into his hypnotising blue eyes you couldn’t help but think, did it really matter? Your conscience needed to shut it because of course it mattered. He was a stranger no matter how good looking.

“Honey is everything okay?” You blink at him too in shock to form words.

The man moved towards you and as much as you want to flinch away, to run, you’re rooted to your spot. He’s so close you’re breathing the same air, he lifts his large, silver wedding ring wrapped around his fourth finger, hand and presses it to your forehead bringing his other hand to press it to your cheek.

“You don’t look so good love.” He’s probably right, “you’re burning up.” You did feel like you could throw up, “let’s get you to bed, shouldn’t have been trying to do the dishes anyway. C’mon now easy does it.” He breathes and picks you up, your eyes glance over his shoulder as he opens the fridge grabbing a cold bottle of water.

You look over his shoulder to an open recipe book on the kitchen counter. It’s not yours. It’s your handwriting on the pages but not yours. You don’t own a recipe book and never have, you liked to wing it. Yet you can see when you’ve noted ‘needs more cinnamon’ on one of the pages. The curves and winds of the letters, it’s your handwriting.

You get carried up the stairs and into a bedroom, placed carefully on a big bed that felt like a cloud. “I’m gonna grab a cold flannel for your head, be right back sweetheart.” He leaves and despite the wooziness that begins to seep into you, you manage to look around.

The room looks well organised, a bathroom just opposite the bed where he went, soft bed sheets, photos everywhere, one that catches your attention the most is a photo by the side of the bed with a picture of you and the man that’s in the bathroom both smiling and looking happy. The blue photo frame says ‘My John’ at the bottom in big white block letters.

“John.” You mutter just as you read it.

“Yeah love?” The man that carried you upstairs comes back with a flannel in his hand. He looks at you expectantly just like he had downstairs.

“I-I’m tired?” You choke out sheepishly.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He grins cheekily before coming over to you and pressing the flannel against your burning head, “You had another episode honey. Asking or telling, I think it’s best you sleep.”

“Episode?” You don’t understand. Twinges of panic start to explode into something more, you feel like you need air and you can’t get it. Your hands ball into fists, squeezing around nothing. Your shoulders are ridged the way your brain is, it feels like it’s not longer working, that you’ve short circuited. It’s not right. Something is not right.

You’re pulled out of your frenzy by a bark, it’s makes you freeze eyes flitting to the perpetrator. A dog. But you don’t own a dog. “Easy Bear mums okay.” John soothes him, but the dog Bear, tilts his head as he sits in the doorway to the bedroom with a frown. A gurgled grumble comes out from him as he stares at you.

You turn slightly to look at John who’s already looking at you, his ocean eyes swirl with emotion. You recognise them, you remember them. They must be safe, he must be safe. Out of everything that doesn’t sit right, that doesn’t seem right, that’s out of place, he seems right. He’s what you remember. He must be safe.

“Okay sweetheart, you know I don’t like it but it’s probably best for you to take the medication Dr MacTavish prescribed you.” You watch almost as if it’s in slow motion as he grabs a small white cardboard box with blue and yellow stripes on it. He opens it and pulls out the familiar plastic tray with foil covering the top. He pops one of the bumps and pulls out a light blue pill that looks tiny in the palm of his hand.

“I don’t condone this.” He mutters to himself but it’s loud enough that you hear it though you don’t say anything. “But maybe it is what’s best for right now like he said and who am I to argue with a Doctor.” He scoffs but smiles at you from where he’s sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

If he couldn’t argue with a Doctor, then you couldn’t either you suppose. You look into his eyes again. You remember them, you should trust what you remember. Nodding a little you take the pill and pop it in your mouth. It’s bitter and the chalky residue it leaves on your tongue makes your face scrunch up with disgust. John passes you a bottle of water and you move quickly opening the lid and chugging some of it.

“Good girl. I know that wasn’t nice but you did good honey. You need to lay down now, Doctor MacTavish said you’ll feel dizzy and most likely sleep straight away.” He explains, his voice soft despite the perpetual gravely undertone to it.

“Okay.” You snuggle down into bed, gripping the soft covers almost oblivious to the fact you’d just taken a drug offered to you with no explanation. A dizziness sweeps over you like alcohol suddenly hitting you all at once and then you’re out like a light. John’s smile disappears from his face the moment he knows you’re asleep. He chucks the pills haphazardly onto the bedside table before getting up.

“Watch her.” He commanded as he walked past Bear, the dog staying in place as John walks out of the room and down the stairs starting on the dishes you’d been arguing about minutes ago.

As he scrubs it feels like meditation to him, scrubbing and scrubbing the dishes clean. He wants to do this to your mind, wants to scrub all your memories clean and start over but he knows getting Johnny to perform a lobotomy on you like he suggested would only hurt him to see you in pain. Not worth it.

He can make this work, he planned it down to the last minute detail. And so far it’s working perfectly. No lobotomy needed. Hopefully it should never have to go that far.

John finishes the dishes, does the laundry, ignores the text from Simon asking when to come over, hoovers the living room and puts dinner in the slow cooker before going to check on you. Bear hasn’t moved from his spot, something John praises him for with a pat to the head. You’d turned in your drug induced sleep, the duvet pulled up under your chin while you lay on your side looking more peaceful than you had all week.

He stares down at you. It feel wrong when it’s like this, when you’re not awake and distracting him. When he can hear the all the thoughts swirling, he can hear the voices, the screams, the gunshots… it’s all too much.

You quiet the noise.

“I hope one day you understand…” he sniffs, eyes stinging, wiping a tear from his cheek, “and I pray you forgive me.”

To be continued…

Taglist | @ry-kage @silverxxs-world @cringeycookies @skyfire93 @piconico17 @evans-dejong

[basedhighsenberg]

Tonight at work I had an engaged couple in their 40s come in who have been a regular of mine for a while now.

Every time they come in they, specifically he, asks for me. The guy is a textbook himbo construction worker but he's also one of the nicest most genuine people I've met since working there. Imagine a golden retriever that has been trained to operate a cement mixer.

They come up the counter and he is visibly anxious and turning red. He puts a small box on the counter and starts to say "So this is my mom's ring-" except can't quite finish the sentence and starts ugly sobbing in the store, in front of like a dozen other guests. He continues to take it out of the box while sobbing.

His fiance and I do our best to calm him down. I bring them over to a sitting area and grab a box of tissues for him. Finally he calms down, and he's able to actually talk his ideas through- which are actually very sweet. He goes on to explain that his mother passed recently and they had discussed using some of the diamonds in her old ring for for his future wife's engagement set.

He already had an idea- he wanted to combine two white gold contour bands into a ring-wrap to go with the ring she already had, and wanted to sub out several of the diamonds in the already existing WG bands for ones in his mom's ring. After inspecting the ring and consulting with my jeweler, we decided it was extremely feasible and should only take two-ish weeks.

Before I can use stones from an outside ring though, I have to test them to be sure they're diamonds. So as we do this, he again gets super anxious and starts welling up with tears. Thankfully though, all diamonds according to my tester (and my eye- I can now spot fake shit through a microscope fairly well).

I watch the wave of catharsis role over him like a warm blanket as I tell him the diamonds are all real. He then proceeds to run on a tangent. "is the ring good? Like, did my dad do good? Cause they were poor growing up and they did right by me and my sisters but like, is it a good ring? Did he have to work a lot for it? Is it good? I think it is but I'm not an expert. What do you think?"

It was built probably in the 60s when gold was cheaper and rings were often chunkier. A cathedral style mounting in 14k yellow gold, with three bands of diamonds- one with baguettes on the central cathedral arms flanking the 1ct-ish marquis center diamond, and two bands of round diamonds running below the cathedral arms to give the ring a look like it had two wedding bands joined to either side. It was well made and had weight to it, and all-in-all probably clocked in between 3-4 TDW. A comparable ring like that would probably easily be $10k+ retail in today's market.

So I tell him his dad did good, and he again gets super emotional- but manages to pull himself back enough to calculate the payments with his future wife. They figure out how to make it work, I ring them out and the ball starts rolling. They both shake my hand on the way out and he gives me one of the brightest smiles I can recall seeing anytime recently.

I should mention- his fiance had actually been a regular of the store before when she was married to another guy, who I found out after she left him was extremely abusive towards her. Every time they came in, his vibe was just rancid and everyone could pick up on it. I was happy to learn about her leaving him when she came in and asked me to help her clean up a bunch of jewelry that he had bought her (while cheating on her) so that she could sell it. I was happy to assist.

But, when she and this new dude first met a while later, I thought they weren't long for each other. She's a semi-professional Hispanic woman with 3 kids, and he is... again, a big retriever puppy. You would never picture these two together otherwise.

I see a lot of couples come in that I genuinely feel like are soul mates, or at the very least extremely compatible matches. I also have a lot of couples come in that aren't destined to be together long, and it's apparent within the first few minutes talking with them.

This time though, I have seldom ever been so glad to admit that I was wrong. By any rational measure of thought these two meeting shouldn't have happened, let alone falling for each other and discovering that they work extremely well together. All they want to do is spoil each other, and you can see the love in their eyes when they're talking with one another.

God brings people together through the strangest and craziest of circumstances in a way they never could have facilitated on their own, to form something greater than they ever could make by themselves.

The more I get to see the fruits of that in person, the more I consider myself blessed to have been brought by God to where I am now, to be in a place where I can help people take their miracle and run with it into the sunset.

I don't know if I'll do this job forever. But in the meantime, it sure is good.

[kadwrites]

desperate measures | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you finally take on the role of the tommy's bride-to-be.

warnings ; arranged marriage trope, typos? , idk, slow burn.

a/n ; let me know what you guys think! , also , i wanted to ask if you guys would want smut in this series? idk lmk

-

goosebumps prickle your skin all over, your eyes are glassy when you look down. thomas shelby is down on his knee, kissing your hand.

"tommy..." your voice is softer than you thought it would be

"ya need to be proposed to right? to be engaged?" he pulls away , his thumb slightly caressing your knuckles

neither of you have moved, you just look at each other.

you chuckle again, your eyes go to the diamond ring that rests on your finger "tommy, it's perfect."

"i wanted it to be perfect."

your heart feels like it's going to explode, maybe celest was right, maybe he isn't all that bad.

he stands up, your hand still in his "now we're engaged" he's still giving you that soft smile.

"we are." you can't help the smile that's on your lips

after he left, you hear the sounds of your friends stampeding down the stairs, as if they knew something has happened. anna helps renne down the stairs.

"let's see it" renee has a hand behind her, supporting her back and a hand on her belly, looking at you with genuine joy and excitement.

you move your hands, showing the big diamond ring, the ring shines and as soon as everyone sees it, they all gasp.

"he went down on one knee..." you whisper as you look at it, recalling what had happened, still smiling. you couldn't stop smiling, even if you tried

fiona is screaming and squealing , madeline is grabbing your hand and looking at the stone

"oh my god"

"he did what?" fiona says , her voice loud as she stares at you excitedly

anna giggles, looking at renee "who would've thought thomas shelby had it in 'im aye?"

abraham is also there , standing next to anna "that's a big fucking rock" he mutters.

"i know" you couldn't believe it either,

"oh my god, it's gorgeous" celest whispers as she stares at the ring, a hand over her mouth "let me see, let me see"

you push your hand in front of her and she takes it in hers eagerly "good lord, this must've cost 'im a fortune"

"god i'm still shaking" you laugh, your hand is unsteady "i almost dropped face first into the fucking floor." you can almost still feel his lips on your skin.

the butterflies in your stomach were still there whenever you'd remember that moment, even days after.

oliver had dropped you by tommy's office, you both needed to go over some things for the party, and you needed to go see a seamstress that'll be making your engagement dress, tommy is coming along to pay.

you walk through the halls that are now familiar to you, heading for his office.

"congratulations" the blonde woman spoke with a smile,

you stop walking, is she talking to you?. you turn and look at her "um thank you."

"i bet it took a lot of convincing aye? to finally give ya some sort of ring, some sort of.... acknowledgment" her voice is so sweet you almost wouldn't catch the malice in it "how sweet of 'im, he was willing to do something like that"

"excuse me?"

"i suppose he felt like he was lookin' for a woman who was not as ... demanding perhaps ?" her head tilts to the side "desperate times call for desperate measures"

you compose yourself, somehow you kept your anger out of your voice "ya don't know what you're talkin' about , miss carter. if i was you, i'd keep my mouth"

"oh please." she rolls her eyes, a mocking laugh is accompanied with it as she leans back in her chair "mr shelby is a good man, with a good heart, he probably did it out of pity." she coos "ya two hardly look like a couple."

"ya mind repeating those words to me, miss carter?"

tommy moved so quietly , you didn't even know he was standing beside you until he spoke.

"mr shelby..." she tries to smile, she stutters

he was watching, he always somehow is. he watched you walk, watched how you responded to her, how you held yourself.

"start talkin'." his voice was cold, it was ice cold.

her eyes widen, she licks her lips nervously "sir"

"she said that we don't look like a couple, that you're marrying me out of pity" the words that polly spoke to you, that first time you ever came here were ringing in your ear.

"is that so?" he didn't take his eyes off of her "is that so , miss carter?" he repeats.

she doesn't respond , she's just looking at him as if she wanted the earth to part and swallow her whole.

"and i'm sure that it doesn't look like i fucked 'er till her back gave out last night but looks can be deceiving, aye?"

with the way he spoke, even you almost believed him.

you held back a laugh, you tilt your head , mimicking how she spoke to you not even two minutes ago, with a small smirk on your lips. was it petty that you enjoyed this? probably, but you didn't really care.

his words did have an affect on you, but you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind.

her eyes dart between you and him, she tries to speak but he stops her

"i will go out with my fiancée, and when i come back i better not find one fucking trace of ya in this place."

your eyes snap to him, watching him now.

"i'm not the good man ya think i am, not to the likes of ya. the only reason i'm being forgiving today , is because my bride is next to me. next time , i wouldn't be so charitable."

he turns, his hand rests on the small of your back, taking you with him. you give the woman one last glance before you go.

she looked as if her blood stopped flowing, as if it froze in her veins ,her eyes still stuck on where tommy was.

-

taglist; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr, @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady

[clawsdevour]

hq charas proposal + rings hcs

wc: 0.6k content warning: all fluff!!, reader x all hq charas, not proofread

.⠀✶;..

-the type to believe in 'the bigger the diamond, the bigger the heart' as in their love for you. the really don't care about how it the ring may be perceived by others because they won't know how much they love you enough to find you the biggest diamond in store.

"okay.. um. OH MY GOD! i think i just saw a squirrel," while they point somewhere behind you, struggling to get onto one knee before you whip your head around to see the love of your life with one knee on the floor. "i lied there was no squirrel.. but i never lie about how much i love you, will you marry me?"

charas: hinata shoyo, bokuto koutaro, tanaka ryunosuke, nishinoya yu

─

-the type to get you a diamond-encrusted ring.. hear me out okay. not the ugly tacky ones but a simple one where it's just tiny diamonds all over where you can wear it with every outfit. even though it's already encrusted with multiple diamonds.. they believe you're more than just that amount on the ring they proposed with.

"This ring may not seem like much when it comes to diamonds. But it somewhat expresses at least a quarter of my love for you. I promise to continue making you the happiest you'll ever be whenever we're together and add to the diamonds on your finger along the way. What do you say? Will you marry me?"

charas: osamu miya, daichi sawamura, oikawa tooru, atsumu miya

─

-the type to propose to you with an elegant but extravagant ring that has three stone diamonds in the middle. they think that two more on the sides of the middle are better than just one and that it just matches how they saw you more. either way.. the way they perceive you doesn't change but the love and adoration they have for you which increases daily.

"love, ever since i met you that day. all i could see was you looking down at me from above as i slid a ring on your finger. all i could think about was how i wanted to be the best man you could ever have.. please, will you marry me?"

charas: kuroo tetsurou, yaku morisuke, sugawara koshi, iwaizumi hajime

─

-the type to find a sleek and elegant ring to do more than one with a diamond. something about the easy-going and smooth design drew them in, similar to your promise rings when you first starting dated had nostalgia washing over them while they went shopping for your engagement rings.

"this might not look like much... well, that's because i wanted them to look like the rings we had when we first started dating. the promise rings were already like wedding rings. the spark of joy i felt when you wanted to match something so symbolic in a relationship had ideas of being bonded together for life running courses in my head. so why don't we get them permanently and.. get married?"

charas: kita shinsuke, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, akaashi keiji

─

-the type to purchase a simple regular diamond ring.. however, a very valuable one that made their bank account gulp. either way, they still swiped that card because they know that the amount they're spending isn't even enough to match the amount of love they have in store for you.. or even your wedding night. everytime you'd question them how much they spent on your ring, they're definitely brushing it off.. never letting you know.....

"wow.. i don't even know what to say but marry me, please. since day one i couldn't take you off my mind. all i could ever think about was having a future with you in it, right next to me. please.. will you do the honors of marrying me?"

charas: sakusa kiyoomi, kenma kozume, suna rintarou, ushijima wakatoshi

masterlist here

[diamondsluvore]

Discover a world of timeless sophistication with our exquisite collection of side stone engagement rings. Each piece is meticulously crafted to accentuate the center stone, adding a touch of brilliance and allure to symbolize your love.

[decorisdiamonds]

Side stone engagement rings are not just stunning pieces of jewellery; they are reflections of a couple's unique journey and their commitment to a shared future. Whether adorned with classic diamonds, vibrant sapphires, or lush emeralds, these rings encapsulate the beauty of love's multifaceted nature.

[sequinsmile-x]

400 - Part 1

She has to remind herself to breathe. Everything that usually comes naturally, that she does without thought, feels hard. Impossible. As if her body was slowly shutting down, as if the reality of what was happening was slowly catching up with her.

My 400th Hotchniss fic

Part 1/2

-x-

Hi besties,

It feels absolutely bonkers to say, but this is my 400th Hotchniss fic!! I am so grateful for this corner of the internet, and I appreciate each and every one of you more than I can say. I've made some lifelong friends in this fandom, and I am grateful every single day that I randomly thought "huh - both of them are really hot" when I started watching CM back in lockdown in 2020 and never looked back.

Since this is my 400th fic, this is as unhinged as you think it's going to be. Part 2 will be up in the next couple of days <3

As always, let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy, canon typical violence, Aaron Hotchner whump, angst

Words: 5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Tick.

She focuses on the sound of the clock hanging on the nearby wall, the repetitive, mechanical sound something she could hold onto. She twists her wedding rings side to side in time with it, the diamond of her engagement ring a dull thud against her skin with each click. It’s a habit that had long replaced her picking at her cuticles, the press of cool metal and stone against the pad of her thumb and forefinger instead of broken skin and blood. It was a much needed reminder of her and Aaron’s love for each other, for the family they had built from the wreckage of their pasts. 

Tock. 

She has to remind herself to breathe. Everything that usually comes naturally, that she does without thought, feels hard. Impossible. As if her body was slowly shutting down, as if the reality of what was happening was slowly catching up with her. She sucks in a breath and it catches on her ribs, sticks against them in a way that hurts, and it stutters back out, her chest barely rising and falling as she does her best to not draw too much attention to herself. 

Tick. 

She flinches when JJ places her hand on her arm, a friendly attempt at comfort the very thing that might tip her over the edge. The final push over the precipice she’d spent days scrambling to hold on to, everything she felt shoved down deep in her gut, buried by making sure the kids were okay and trying to make sure that they weren’t worried, weighing her down until her grip started to slip. 

“Em-”

“Please don’t,” she says, pulling her arm away so fast she thinks it should hurt, but she can’t feel anything. She looks up from the floor, unaware she’d been looking down in the first place, and her eyes meet JJ’s, “I…” she clears her throat, everything she wants to say stuck in her throat, “Please don’t.”

Tock. 

“Mrs Hotchner?” 

She almost flinches at the use of her married name and she reminds herself that she’s here as Aaron’s wife, not in a professional capacity. She stands up, her hands shaking as she runs them down her shirt, her hand lingering just a second over her stomach. She tries, but fails, to remember the name of the doctor who’s standing in front of her, her mind too occupied by everything else, by the weight of the preemptive grief she can feel on her chest. She knows she’ll never forget her face, that it would be painted in her memory for the rest of her life, bold and chillingly bright for a moment she’d sooner rather forget. 

She’d been the person to deliver bad news more than once, had been this person in other people's lives, and the thought of it makes her feel nauseous. 

“Are you ready?” Emily asks, and the doctor nods. 

“Em,” JJ says from behind her, “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

“I have to know.” She nods, even though she isn’t sure, and she turns back to look at the doctor, hoping she doesn’t see the shake in her voice, “I’m ready.” 

___

Three Days Earlier 

“Mama!”

She smiles as she rolls onto her back, opening her bleary eyes as tiny hands press against her face, her hopes of another few minutes in bed gone as her 2-year-old climbs on top of her. Lucas curls up in her arms, his dark hair tickling under her chin as she pulls him closer. Aaron’s side of the bed is empty, the warmth still lingering on the sheets letting her know he hadn’t been gone for long, the roar of the shower in the ensuite telling her exactly where he is.   

“Morning, sweet boy,” she says, kissing the top of his head before she tilts her head to look at him. She runs her knuckles down his cheek to chase a smile out of him, something that had worked since he was only a handful of weeks old, and she couldn’t help but smile back. She gently pokes his nose, her nose, and her smile gets wider, “I seem to remember you going to sleep in your own bed last night.” 

“I like big bed.” 

She hums and kisses his forehead, “I know, baby,” she holds him closer, content to spend some time with him before the day starts. Before she and Aaron have to go to work and the boys have to go to school and daycare, “Why don’t we snuggle for a little bit whilst Daddy showers?” 

He nods against her, “Yes, snuggles.” 

She hides her smile in his hair and breathes him in, the strawberry scent of his no tears shampoo washing over her, “I love you, Lukey.” 

“‘ove you, Mama.” 

She runs her fingers through his hair and hums to him, the tune she can’t name drowned out by the shower until it switches off. She smiles when she hears the ensuite door open just a couple of minutes later, and she looks up as Aaron walks into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist as he dries his hair with another. 

“Morning,�� he says, smiling at the sight of them together, “I can’t believe I went to shower and came back to find you in bed with another guy.”

“And a much cuter guy at that,” she chuckles and tickles Lucas to pull a laugh out of him too before she looks down at him, “Why don’t you go make sure Jack is awake for me?” She says, sitting up to help him back down onto the floor, “It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

Lucas nods and starts to toddle out of the room, “Hi Dada.” 

“Hi buddy,” he says, reaching down to ruffle his hair as he walks past him and out into the hallway, already calling out Jack’s name before he’s out of the room. Aaron turns to look at his wife, his smile slipping as she groans when she climbs out of bed, “Are you okay sweetheart?” 

“I’m fine,” she says, her hand on his arm when she makes it to his side, “I wish your youngest son had my respect for a few extra minutes in bed, but I’m fine.” 

Aaron chuckles and reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together before he leans forward to kiss her, “I’ll get dressed and then get the boys started on breakfast whilst you get ready.” 

“Thanks, honey,” she hums as she pulls back. She squeezes his hand, takes a moment to feel the familiar press of his skin against hers, how the gaps between her fingers seemed to have been made for his. She’d always loved his hands, loved the strength he carried in them but how gentle they could be, how the callouses on the pad of his thumb were rough against the skin of her wrist as he traced it back and forth over her pulse, forever chasing the beat of her heart every chance he had, “I’ll meet you downstairs.” 

“Do you want your usual breakfast?” 

She nods and smiles gratefully before she turns and walks into the bathroom, rolling her neck to stretch it out as she goes. She lingers, takes her time washing her face until she hears Aaron leave the bedroom, his voice as he talks to the boys getting quieter as he gets further away, his footsteps on the stairs signalling that she is finally alone upstairs. She blows out a slow breath and opens the medicine cabinet, her eyes immediately seeking out the pregnancy test she knew was hidden behind her unopened box of tampons. She presses her lips together, desperate to contain her excitement, to try and tamper it down until she had confirmation that her intuition was right. 

They’d been trying again for a little while, just long enough that she was starting to doubt it would happen again, but then she started to notice symptoms. A familiar exhaustion she’d felt when she was pregnant with Lucas, and a type of nausea she’d felt then and once before. She hadn’t told Aaron her suspicions, hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up with hers, needed one of them to have both of their feet firmly planted on the ground whilst she got carried away with fantasies of adding to their family. 

She rips the box open, excitement that feels dangerous thrumming beneath her skin as she pulls the test out. Her stomach flips with something more than nausea for once as she hears her husband and sons laughing downstairs, the thought of another laugh she didn’t know yet joining in with them warming her from the inside out. 

___

By the time she gets out of the shower, she’s missed two calls from work. She tries to call back but can’t get hold of anyone, rolling her eyes when she gets Clyde’s voicemail when she tries to contact him as a last resort. 

She left the BAU shortly after she and Aaron told people that they were together. It was practical for more than one reason - it helped them get around any issues within the FBI’s rules about inter-team relationships, and it helped her get the new start she’d desperately needed. Clyde’s offer of a job was as needed as it was timely, and although she turned down his offer of going to London, she’d accepted the moment he said there was a role in DC waiting for her if she wanted it. 

There were moments at first when she’d wondered if she had done the right thing. When she’d lay in bed and miss Aaron being next to her. The days he was away and out of her reach, when she couldn’t keep him safe, long and drawn out. But then Jack would sneak into their room, he’d slip under the covers and snuggle up to her and he’d whisper he was glad that she was there, and she knew she wouldn’t go back. 

It was something that was only solidified when she found out she was pregnant with Lucas. Her need to never make the same choices her mother had, to ensure that her children never thought her job came before them, strong enough that she now worked part time. On the days she didn’t work she’d take Jack to school and spend the day with Lucas before she picked Jack up again, making small talk with the other parents as they waited for the kids to come out. It was ordinary and beautiful and hers, and she was endlessly grateful for the balance she’d found. 

She smiles as she turns sideways to look at her reflection in the mirror. She smoothes her hands over her stomach and sighs happily, her lips pressed together as she thinks about how their family is going to change again. How the tiny dot of a thing growing beneath her skin would disrupt their current normal, throw everything into the air again and disrupt their lives in the most incredible way. 

She sighs as her phone rings again and she picks it up, barely dragging her attention away from her reflection as she answers it, “Prentiss.” 

She listens as she’s told about an urgent case. Several senators had received threats and one of them had been sent a package with a bomb that had thankfully not detonated. She sighs, knowing she’s in for a long day, but she can’t help but smile to herself when she’s told they’ll be working with the BAU because of the urgency. She hangs up and gets ready quickly, ignoring the roll in her belly as nausea climbs up her throat. 

“Not now, baby,” she says, rubbing her stomach, “Daddy doesn’t even know about you yet.” She presses her fingers against her lips and swallows thickly before she heads downstairs, smiling softly at her husband when he meets her in the hallway, his expression stern in a way that only meant one thing, “Pen called you about the senators?” 

He nods, “Apparently they need as many agencies involved as possible.”

“Are the boys done with breakfast?” 

“They’ve eaten and they are dressed,” he replies, “According to Lucas I didn’t cut his toast the ‘right way’, but we got there in the end.” 

She hums and straightens his tie, “The trick is to put it on your own plate and let him eat it from there,” she presses her lips together to contain her smile, happiness almost threatening to burst out of her as she thinks about what he doesn’t know yet, “Honey-”

She’s cut off as his phone rings, and he groans, “Sorry, sweetheart, one second.” 

She nods as he answers and steps away, and she walks into the kitchen, smiling at Jack as she finds him loading the dishwasher, “You didn’t have to do that, sweetie,” she says as she walks past Lucas in his high chair, pushing her fingers through his hair as she goes. 

“It’s okay,” Jack says, smiling as he turns to look at her, “I like to help.” 

She runs her fingers through his hair, “I know you do,” she says, smiling when he dodges out of her way a little. Now he was 10 he was on the edge of finding his parents uncool, testing the boundaries for the first time every now and then before he’d remember how much he loved a hug from either one of them, “Go brush your teeth, Dad and I both have a case.” 

“Okay Mom,” He nods, smiling at her as he wraps his arms around her waist for a moment, “Love you.” 

“Love you too,” she replies as he runs out of the room and she turns her attention to Lucas, smiling as she lifts him into her arms, stamping a kiss against his cheek as she settles him on her hip, “What’s all this about you giving Daddy a hard time over breakfast?” 

“I like Mama toast.” 

She chuckles, “I know you do, baby.” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Aaron says as he walks into the kitchen, shaking his head at himself as he puts his phone back in his pocket, “What were you going to say?” 

She opens her mouth, she almost tells him, but she stops herself. She didn’t want this to be news they exchanged in a rush, something they only had a second to celebrate before they had to get on with their day, the case they’d both been called to looming over them. She wanted to take her time, to let the happy news sink in and watch it sink in for him too, to see the smile spread across his face and press her thumbs against his dimples as she kissed him. 

“Nothing that can’t wait,” she says, stepping forward to stamp her lips against his, “I’ll tell you later,” she bounces Lucas on her hip, drawing a giggle out of the little boy, “I’ll go help this one brush his teeth and then we need to get going.” 

Aaron smiles and kisses her and then Lucas’s forehead, “I’ll make sure Jack is ready for school.” 

She nods and walks out of the kitchen, listening to Lucas’s chatter the entire way, unaware that by the end of the day, she would wish she’d told her husband that they were going to be parents again. 

She’d find herself wishing all kinds of things, but mostly that he’d come home safe to her. 

___

She was furious at her husband. 

She watches in disbelief as she sees him on the news, his face plastered over every TV screen in her office and the bullpen around her, as he purposely put a target on his back. She calls him the second she’d finished watching the interview, his proclamation that he was personally going to make sure the perpetrators of this attempted terrorist attack were found still ringing in her ears. 

He answers the phone almost immediately, clearly having been expecting her call, and she closes her office door behind her so no one on her team hears her shouting at her self-sacrificing idiot of a husband. 

“Hi Em.” 

She chokes on a laugh, “Hi? Is that all I get?” She asks, shaking her head as she sits down at her desk, “I just saw you on the news. A little warning would have been nice.” 

“I know, I’m sorry sweetheart,” he says, “Part of the profile for these guys is that they hate authority. The director was pushing us to put something out there so we didn’t have a chance to share cross-agency before we spoke to the press.” 

She scoffs, “I’m not talking as a member of another agency, Aaron,” she says, “I’m talking as your wife. You…you put a huge target on your back.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Someone had to do it.” 

She hums, “And it just had to be you?” She quips, her anger extinguished by the way he sighs down the phone, guilt poured over it because she knows he wouldn’t have made the decision lightly, “Just…be careful. Please. For me.” 

“I’m always careful.” 

She chuckles and shakes her head as she rests one of her hands on her bump, “Sure, honey,” she looks up when someone knocks on her door, “I should go.” 

“Me too. Love you.” 

“You too,” she replies, waving one of her agents in as she hangs up, “Where are we up to?” 

It’s a long day, and she’s exhausted by the time she gets home. It’s later than she liked to get home, and she’s not surprised to see Aaron isn’t home yet either. She smiles gratefully at Jess as she tells her that the boys have had dinner and Lucas is tucked up in bed. She promises Jack she’ll watch a movie with him and heads upstairs to change into something more comfortable, yawning as she sends Aaron a text to ask when he’ll be home too. She frowns when the text doesn't go through, a flash of anxiety rolling through her that she tries to shake off. She sends JJ a text instead, sure that Aaron’s phone had simply run out of battery, and she sits on the edge of the bed, taking the first moment to herself that she’d had all day since Lucas had slipped into the bed next to her. 

She jumps when her phone rings and her anxiety returns in full force when she sees JJ calling. She answers quickly, her heart sinking into her stomach when she hears Henry and Will in the background.

“JJ?” 

“Em, is Hotch not home yet?”

She swallows thickly, “No…he isn’t,” she hears how JJ hesitates, her lips pressed together as the silence that follows frays her nerves, every one of them unravelling like thread, “JJ…what’s going on?” 

JJ sighs, “Emily, he sent us home 2 hours ago. I left at the same time as him. I followed him out of the parking lot.”

Emily sucks in a breath and presses her fingers against her lips, a failed attempt to push back the nausea she can feel climbing up her throat, “He should be home by now?” 

“He should be home by now,” JJ confirms and Emily closes her eyes before she looks up at the ceiling, stopping any tears pressing at the back of her eyes from falling.

She didn’t have time to break down. 

“He put himself in danger, JJ. He…what if something happened to him?” 

“I’ll call Pen and the others,” JJ says, “See if we can track his phone or something. You stay there, stay with the boys. I’ll call you when I know something, okay?” She says, and Emily nods, not realising she hadn’t spoken until JJ continues, “Em?”

“Yes, sorry,” she replies, blowing out a breath, “I’ll be here. I think his phone is off. When I sent him a text it didn’t go through.” 

JJ is silent for a moment before she clears her throat, “I’ll call you, okay?” 

“Okay,” she replies, unsure how her voice is steady when it feels like the ground beneath her is anything but. “As soon as you can?” 

“As soon as I can.” 

When she hangs up and the room falls into silence she drops her phone onto the bed. She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, “Damn it, Aaron.” 

“Mom?” Jack calls up the stairs, his voice light, free of the knowledge that his father was missing, and she was going to make sure that remained the case until she knew more about what was happening, “Are you ready?” 

She stands up and clenches her fists to stop her hands from shaking. She couldn’t fall apart. She wouldn’t allow herself to. She blows out a shaky breath and ignores how it catches in her chest. 

“Coming, sweet boy.” 

___

For three days there is no news. Three, long, agonising, days. 

She does what she always told herself she wouldn’t do - she lies to her children. She tells them Aaron is away on a case but that he’s busy so can’t call like he usually would. She isn’t sure Jack believes her, but he doesn’t say anything, and she’s grateful that Lucas is too young to understand. She tries to work, but Clyde doesn’t let her. He calls and tells her under no uncertain terms that he better not get a call to say she’s in the office. She finds herself strangely grateful for it, unsure that she’d be able to concentrate, that she’d be of anything other than a hindrance in finding her husband. 

On the third night, just after Jack is in bed and she sits on the couch, the house so quiet she almost wants Lucas to wake up so she has something to distract her from Aaron’s absence, there’s a knock on the front door. She knows it’s JJ without looking, because she’s the only other person she knows who would understand not to ring the bell with a sleeping toddler in the house. She opens the door, her grip on the handle tight as JJ and Penelope smile at her from the porch and something about the kindness painted across their faces makes her angry.

“What’s happened? Have you found him?” 

JJ hesitates, “Why don’t we come in-”

“What happened?” She insists, stepping out onto the porch, pulling the door almost all the way closed behind her to ensure neither of the boys overhears anything if they come looking for her, “Is he…” She drifts off, unable to put it into words, the thought of losing him so overwhelming she feels lightheaded.

Penelope swallows thickly, “We…we don’t know.” 

She chokes on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, “What do you mean you don’t know?” 

It comes out angrier than she intends it to, but she can’t help it, everything she’s tried her best to not feel for days burning her from the inside out. 

“There was an explosion,” JJ explains, “the same kind of bomb sent to Senator Powell. There was a body found and…” she swallows thickly, her eyes shining with tears she’s trying and failing to hide from Emily, “And the body had Aaron’s badge and gun with it. They are working on the identification.” 

She sways this time, she knows she does because both of them step towards her, their hands out in front of them to steady her, but she shakes them off, her hand against the wall behind her as she steadies herself. 

“I need to see him.” 

“Em…” JJ shakes her head, “The man’s face has been badly burned. It’s not possible to-”

“I need to see him,” she says, cutting over JJ as she looks at Penelope, “Can you stay with the boys? They don’t know Aaron is missing…if…if one of them wakes up-”

“I’ll just say you’re at work.” 

Emily nods her thanks and looks at JJ, “I’ll just grab my bag.”

___

“Mrs Hotchner?” 

She almost flinches at the use of her married name and she reminds herself that she’s here as Aaron’s wife, not in a professional capacity. She stands up, her hands shaking as she runs them down her shirt, her hand lingering just a second over her stomach. She tries, but fails, to remember the name of the doctor who’s standing in front of her, her mind too occupied by everything else, by the weight of the preemptive grief she can feel on her chest. She knows she’ll never forget her face, that it would be painted in her memory for the rest of her life, bold and chillingly bright for a moment she’d sooner rather forget. 

She’d been the person to deliver bad news more than once, had been this person in other people's lives, and the thought of it makes her feel nauseous. 

“Are you ready?” Emily asks, and the doctor nods. 

“Em,” JJ says from behind her, “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

“I have to know.” She nods, even though she isn’t sure, and she turns back to look at the doctor, hoping she doesn’t see the shake in her voice, “I’m ready.” 

They are led into a quiet room, and Emily’s breath catches in her throat as she sees the body on the gurney, the stark white of the sheet lying over it making her pause in the doorway before she steps through. JJ stands next to her, and for the first time, Emily is grateful that she’s there, that she isn’t alone. The doctor looks at Emily, waiting for her okay, and she nods. 

She gasps when the sheet is pulled back, the smell of burnt flesh overwhelming as makes her stomach lurch. It triggers a memory, makes her chest burn and she rubs at the phantom ache she immediately feels in the long healed brand mark. When she blinks she sees Ian, sees the warehouse in Boston and smells her own flesh burning. 

She blinks against and sees Aaron’s face, his eyes wide and unseeing, the golden flecks she’d always loved dulled. Tarnished by whatever had happened to him. She opens her eyes and looks at the body again, sucking in a breath as she has to look away from the burned face down the body, her gaze lingering on his hands. 

“Em, if you can’t-”

“It isn’t him,” she says, talking over JJ’s attempt to comfort her, and she swallows thickly as she looks back up at the doctor, “He’s taller. And his hands are…” she presses her lips together to try to stop the shake in them, everything she’d spent days ignoring climbing up her throat, her eyes fixed on hands she does not recognise, “Aaron’s hands are bigger. You can wait for the dental records if you want, but trust me. It isn’t him,” she looks between her friend and the stranger whose face she’ll always remember, “Excuse me.” 

She walks out of the room, her vision blurred with tears she didn’t think she can hold off anymore, and she carries on until she’s outside, the fresh air and everything she didn’t want to feel hitting her all at once. She captures a sob with her hand, attempts to muffle it as she leans against the wall, the roughness of the brick against the palm of her hand barely registering. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t dead, yet, or as far as she knew.

It wasn’t him. But where was he?

She throws up, couldn’t stop it if she wanted to, tears burning tracks on her cheeks that feel permanent as she gasps and tries to catch her breath. She wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket and swallows thickly, the burn in the back of her throat a welcome distraction. 

“Em?” 

She turns to look at JJ, “I’m okay.” 

“You’re not,” JJ says, and she places her hand on her back and leads her over to a nearby bench, “I wouldn’t be either,” she digs through her purse and pulls out a pack of gum, “Here you go.” 

“Thanks,” Emily says, her hand shaking as she takes a piece, “Mint helps,” her lips tremble as JJ looks at her, the unasked question painted across her face, “I’m pregnant.” 

JJ nods, “How far along are you?”

Emily laughs humourlessly and shakes her head as she chews the gum, wiping tears from her cheek. “I don’t know. I only found out the day Aaron…I found out that morning,” she places her hand on her flat belly, “He doesn’t even know. I didn’t get the chance to tell him.” 

She wishes she’d told him. Wishes she’d taken the second they had and let him know they were having a baby so that if the worst happened, if she really never got him back, she could tell her son or daughter that their father knew about them and was excited to know them. She felt guilty for taking that from Aaron, for not giving him the chance to know he was going to be a father again, and she felt guilty for feeling like she was giving up on him by thinking that way at all. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” she assures her, and she reaches for Emily’s hand, squeezing it gently, “Em-”

She shakes her head and wipes away tears that are immediately replaced, “It isn’t him, JJ. I know him. I’ve held his hand more times than I can count and-”

“Em,” she repeats, squeezing her hand again, “I know.”

Emily furrows her brow, “You do?” 

JJ nods, “After you stepped outside the dental records came through. It isn’t Aaron.” 

Emily sobs again, her ribs aching as it forces itself upwards, and she covers her mouth, “It isn’t?” 

“No. It flagged up someone from the military database, I’ve sent his details across to Derek. He’s looking into it,” she smiles sadly, “Looks like your obsession with Hotch’s hands paid off.” 

“Yeah,” She nods and wipes her cheeks, “I guess it has,” she blows out a shaky breath and shakes her head, “Where is he JJ? If he isn’t…” she drifts off again, “Where the hell is he?” 

[koiiiji]

wedding hc series

Sangho would like to see something simple and elegant on you, something not… too much, because don’t worry, your ring, necklace, bracelet, and heels would shine bright enough to scream how expensive it is. Sangho is man of few words when it comes to feelings, he rather show his love for you with engagement ring - when he proposed (not like you cared and paid attention) you noticed that there are no brand logo on the small box, later you will learn that this ring was custom made - Sangho went directly to the jeweler and chose stone himself. honestly it was huge act of love and care, he spent a lot of time out from his work just on visiting jewelers and having a look on millions of diamonds, just to came up with the one he gifted to you.

so fairly enough he left all wedding preparations to you, just letting you know his wishes for cake, some design thoughts and number of people who he wants to see in guest list from his side (Hwangyeon was in question and Aria cried on your wedding bc finally some sane person entered their family)

got idea from tiktok but i never liked their ideas and vibe so i came up with something by myself✨💗

and im too lazy and don’t have enough inspiration to write full fic🥹

let me know what character is next (lookism included!!)

[insipid-drivel]

Probably one of the worst blows to me psychologically as a chronically ill and permanently disabled person is that... I didn't have a very ambitious childhood dream. I never wanted to be President or an astronaut, or even a dragon, and I'll still never realize my rather pathetic little dream.

I just wanted to be a jeweler; someone you'd go to for cool one-of-a-kind commissions and custom jobs using precious and semiprecious stones and metals... but I'll still never get there.

Before my mind and body started to quit on me, I dreamed of going to college to learn to make beautiful art out of precious stones and metals that would make people feel beautiful and represent love. I wanted a simple vocation, wasn't going to get me anywhere close to being a millionaire, but I could at least hope to support myself, and maybe even see people come in for commissioned pieces on the good reviews of my past customers that loved my work.

Maybe I'd have my own separate workshop and sell online or out of booths at faires and cons and farmer's markets. Where I live, there are natural deposits of geodes like amethysts and other quartz you can mine yourself (amethyst especially is surprisingly easy to literally dig up out of the mud with gardening tools and a bucket), and I could've boasted about mining my own gemstones ethically on my own dime with my own hands, so no one who wore my jewelry would worry about their engagement ring or pendant funding blood diamonds.

I knew it wasn't gonna happen before I turned 13. I'm 32 now, bedridden most of the time, currently having yet another flareup of both pain with a side-bonus of an infection my doctor can't seem to diagnose (reinfection #4, at that), and don't even have the energy to sit up and slide a bead onto a piece of string, and reaching for the bead itself would make me gasp with pain right now.

I just wanted to be a jeweler. I wanted to be a person, not a patient.