#feels a bit like going 'okay so I know what will save your marriage' and taking you to the gay bathhouse

[ballsballsbowls]

On the one hand, I think it's a net good that people are more aware, in a general sense, of ethical nonmonogamy as an option for a relationship.

On the other, I cannot possibly be the only person who has some uncharitable feelings when something I've done pretty much my entire life on the whims of some innate part of my personality** is now suggested as an obvious step in reconciling every shitty marriage, after "couples therapy" but before "trial separation."

** I'm sure there's reams of argument happening right now about whether being nonmonogamous is cultural or innate or something else entirely, but as for me it is for sure an innate and immutable part of my personality that became obvious at about the same age most people start realizing they're not heterosexual.

[ashnnix]

Various JJk men x Male husband reader

Tw: gbang,double pen,buldge,cum inflation, darcyphilia, spanking,forced marriage, dubcon,bj,polysex,cockwarming,almost NTR. Aphrodisiac,squirting

Summary:

As a husband of the famous Gojo who saved japan you always held your head high. Every man from jujutsu society is devastated to hear the news you're happily wed to the honoured one .But they always have a plan to have you in their arms, too. By having a gangbang with you and marry them after

Minors dni

fem align dni

PT.2

"Honey! I'm off to kill bunch of special grades, I might come home late!"

You hurriedly walked to your door to give your husband a good bye kiss. Being Satoru's husband is a blessing

"Leaving me without a kiss? How cruel" you jokingly said, you heard him laugh at your pun. Satoru pulled you from your waist a firm grip that almost made you whimper

"Kiss me" Without hesitation you pulled him by the neck, a quick kiss for him. You dont want to make him late you affectionately held his hands and also gave it a kiss

"Be safe okay? " Gojo gave you a warm smile, he also gave your hands a kiss his warm lips making you shiver

"You know how strong I am honey" Satoru patted your head and left your home. You didn't notice his dark smirk, eyes filled with lust. Gojo bit his lip in arousal

'Oh Y/N...'

After cleaning your home you took a break you sat on your sofa, taking a sip of the tea you made. You heard a knock from the door, you know it wasn't Satoru, it made you worried a little bit

You opened the door, your jaw dropped on the floor

It was all the men you rejected for Gojo

Looking at you with such lusted eyes looking down at you like you are their meal for the whole day

Frustrated you folded your arms glaring at the three Getou, Nanami and Choso

"When are you guys going to give up! Can't you see this ring I'm happily married!" You screamed at them while presenting your ring shining brightly

"Now now Y/N we just want to present you a gift for newly weds. We dont mean harm" Getou said smoothly with his charming smile he only use at you

Lies, its all lies and you can see it

Nanami cleared his throat avoiding eye contact

"We really meant no harm" Nanami blushed of how apron looks cute on you, he can't wait to fuck you already

"Congratulations Y/N" Choso gave you box with a cake inside, written ontop was 'Congratulations on marriage'

You felt slightly bad considering they went this far just to congratulate you. With a sigh you opened the door wider

"Fine fine, come in" you turned your back and walked to the living room you didn't hear how the three men breathed heavily, fighting the urge to pounce at you

The three sat on the couch while you take a seat on the solo sofa. You saw how Choso place the cake gently on the table, you crave something sweet today so you stand up to get a plate to eat the cake after taking off your apron

While you are rummaging to your plates the three men put a lot of aphrodisiac to the cake, enough to fuck you till morning

You grab a piece of cake, you look at the three men before taking a bite

"So how's life? Found someone yet?"

The three men clenched their hands, impatient. Their breath hitched when you finally took a bite of the cake

"We can't move on from you, Y/N"

Your body felt hot and heavy, you dropped the cake and the spoon on the floor

"Ah-ahh... wha-what is hngh! Happening?" Your confused why you suddenly felt too horny you and Satoru just had a morning sex

You tried to stand up with your wobbly legs, your cock wet from the precum its leaking. You pushed your thigh together hiding your erection but the friction from your clothes made you feel good

'nghh~ fe-feels good!more!more♡︎!" You drooled. You gasped when you realized your husband is not home. Your eyes locked in with the three males whos already taking off their clothes. Your body moves on its own, walking closer to them. Your knees went weak and fell on Nanamis chest. The smell of the mans cologne made you crazy and lose yourself

You rub your hard cock with his, Nanami groaned at the friction his dick is also getting hard

"Fuck, you feel so go-good" Nanami groaned also letting out a small whimper.Your bit your lip, Nanami's whimpering does something in your body

Getou and Choso stroke themselves at the scene letting Nanami have the first

"Go on, Kento, you can take him first"

Nanami wasted no time. He bends you over on the couch face down ass up he ripped off your shorts and boxer. His dick went harder when he saw your ass leak from being turned on

You still have your mind back, your mind is still not blank. So with your weak arms you tired to push Nanami away

"N-no you arent m-ngh!♡︎ husband, Ca-call Toru..." Your sentence was broke but they understand it well you saw Getou walked closer and crouch to give your forehead a kiss

"Satoru just buying something from the sex store for this sex we will use a lot of toys♡︎, he'll comeback later..." Choso also walked closer and pull your hair to make you look at him, you wince from the pain

'Toru...did what?'

"Right now, we, your husbands shall take care of your arousal" Your eyes almost rolled back how horny that sentence made you

You felt Nananami rubbing againts your ass, he opened the lube and squirted the liquid all over your ass making it look lewd

"Nooo...Nami haaa....st-sto- ahh!" You felt Nanami spank you leaving red hand prints on your ass

"You tell me that but your ass keeps rubbing on me" you sniffed in embarrassment .Your ass rubs on him not having enough patience

Without a warning Nanami dick plunge inside you, the hot burning sensation and the way it hit your prostate made you roll your eyes back and squirted your cum

"Oohh!!♡︎ cu-cumming!!" Your body arches as your dick continues to let out sperm. Nanami groaned and whimpered how your ass tightens around him. Getou giggled horny and hot at the scene infront of him

"You came just from inserting it? How cute Y/N" Your eyes let out tears as you lay limp on the couch, your drool soaking the sofa

"Ahh! Ahh! Haa! Ngh!"

Nanami thrust inside fast and rough, not forgiving you for rejecting him

Fwop Fwop

"Your so tight ngh!" You whimpered as you tighten up more, hearing Nanami whimper and let out sounds is making you horny

"Ohhh! Ahhh! Ah! ♡︎♡︎♡︎" your moans and whimper made Choso hot, he continued to stroke his dick. He clicked his tounge getting impatient. Choso pulled your head again his dick on your face

Getou continue to stroke his dick not stopping Choso, he understands how horny Choso already is

"Suck" Y/N hesitated and shook his head whining

"No~ do- ahh! Wanna...." Choso scoffed and slap your face hard, you didn't know why your dick twicthed

"Its not a request mmhm!" Choso grabs a hold of your hair, he pushed his dick on your mouth forcing you to deep throat him. You choked and your eyes rolled back. Tears brimming in the corner of your eyes

"Mmhm! Hmm! Ohmm!♡︎" The way Nanami thrust didn't help, it made you take Choso dick deep in your throat. Your hands went to stroke your dick ready to cum again. But Nanami pulled both of your hands taking him a lot more deeper

"Ohm! Hmm!" Your tongue continued to please Choso. Your eyes saw his face, flushed and horny. His whimpers can be heard all over the room

"Mgh...haa ahh your mouth feels good!" Choso groaned he thrust his hips the tip of his mouth hitting the deepest part of your mouth. Your jaw started to hurt already. You closed your eyes as tears flowed down your cheek. Your dick is now leaking precum staining the sofa again, your hands gripped Nanamis hands

Nanami smirked his glasses getting foggy from breathing hot air, his hips stuttered. Hes about to cum deep inside your ass, he can also feel your about to cum too. The way you shake, your ass twicthimg every thrust

Nanami leaned closer to your ear, with his deep voice whispering

"I'm gonna cum inside you" Your eyes widen, your body getting heated up

With one final thrust, both of you three simultaneously came. Your ass filled with Nanamis cum, your mouth choking on Chosos dick his semen also made you choke forcing you to swallow it all

"Mmhm! Ohmm! Mmngh!♡︎" you moaned,whimpered and cried. You kept cumming but your dick is still hard, you needed more...more!!♡︎♡︎

"Ahhh fuck you feel so good, so this is what that damn Gojo had to feel everyday" Nanami pulled his still hard dick watching a strand of cum connecting his tip to your rim

Choso also pulled out from your mouth watching you lay limp on the couch, your ass still up. Choso pulled back his hair already hot and sweaty from the sensation

"Your mouth feels good, I want- no need you everyday"

Your body layed limp shaking uncontrollably, your dick still hard, begging to cum again

Getou smirked of how fucked you looked, but not fucked enough. He will fuck you so hard till you can't speak, move passing out till morning

"Its my turn now darling"

You felt Getou big hands touch your waist, forcing you to lay on your back. He smirked darkly when he saw your dick twicth, hard and swollen stained with cum, your balls also twitching ready to let out bunch of your loads

His eyes moved to Getou catching his breath

"Choso lets double pen♡︎" Choso didn't hesitate he pulled you up from your armpits. Suprised you didn't fight back, he smirked how you just gave up

You felt two hot dick tip touch your rim rubbing it. With your last strength you tried to push Getou away touching his pecs

"Nooo- ahh p-please....Go-toru might see ahhh~ us!"

Choso and Getou suddenly went inside you without a warning, the grith of their cock forcing your ass to take their shape.You squealed loud body twitching from the pain and pleasure all at once. Both men shake and whimpered of how tight your ass felt. Both men groaned their dick touching each other inside you, hitting your deepest parts

"Ohhh! Shoo big! Im gonna cu-cumming!!" You came from the sensation the way they hit your deep parts sends electricity in your brain making you dumb on their dick

"Ooh! Big shoo good!! Ngh!~♡︎" the three men were shocked how hot and lewd your body reacts to double pen

The two men inside you only smirked darkly. They both simultaneously thrusted harshly inside hitting your prostate again and again without any breaks

Your eyes rolled back your pupils turned hearts. Your body arched your head resting on Choso shoulders. You saw his face eyes closed, focusing on pleasing his husband

"Sh-shit Y/N! You haa...ahhh..oh! Feel so good!" Getou moans are so much whinier than the two men

Nanami continued to watch the scene taking a break by drinking water

"Y-Y/N....mhm! Ohh!" Choso moans become much more needier the way his hips stuttered, his eyes almost rolled back of how tight your ass clenched around the both of them

Getou thrust was violent he cannot also forgive you for rejecting him. At your dumb fuck state you must realized now how these men are obsessed with you

Your hands touched the buldge in your stomach, whining of how deep they are inside you

Fwop fwop

The thrust becomes sloppy because of Nanamis' previous orgasm making your ass more wet

"Ahh! Haa! Ah! Choso~ Su!Suguru!" The two men suddenly came, moaning their name made them cum quick. You just had a strong effect on them

The feeling of being full to the brim, hot sweaty men all over you made you cum again. Your dick squirted all over, making a mess on your chest and stomach. Some got in Getou's cheek

Getou wiped it using his fingers, he put it inside his mouth, shaking on how sweet your cum taste

"Haa...n-no more..." But your dick didn't listen. it's still hot and hard

The two men stayed inside you, cockwarming them. Your body continues to be shaking, twicthing. Its your body who begs for more not you

You heard your front door open a familiar voice you heard

"Oh, Y/N! Im back! Look what I bought! Bunch of lube and vibrator!" The voice of Gojo made your heart drop, you saw him enter the living room. Your eyes filled with tears of how shocked he looked

"Toru....I'm sorry I'm such a bad husband..." You sniffled your tears, looking away from him ashamed of how you look. A whore who who just fucked his coworkers and friends

The two men inside you decideds to pull out, bunch of cum leaving your insides a small puddle of cum on the couch

You felt Gojo hands patted your head lovingly

"The others are on their way, Sukuna, Naoya, and Toji...so while we wait want another round?" Your eyes showed confusion. You want to stop, but your dick keeps getting hard . With hesitation, you nodded. After this, you want an explanation

[madamechrissy]

♔ Silent Serenades ♔

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Explicit sexual content, dirty talk, breeding kink, spitting, Satoru calls reader 'slut during sex, some nipple biting, cum play, mostly cute and fluffy (believe it or NOT) Oral (f recieving) mentions of jealousy and past angst

♔ Word count: this chap: 11.2k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you at all, leaving you a crying mess on your wedding night, alone. Now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage that destroys you from within. Royal AU, Cruel Duke Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful in this. You'll hate Satoru, warning you now. HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

A/N- I go into Gojo's pov but don't divide them! I hope the style if that is okay. <3 Comments and Reblogs very appreciated if you enjoy

<<<Part Thirteen ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist ♔ Part Fifteen>>>

Part Fourteen - The King's Ball

“Fuck this.” Satoru grumbles, you’re arm in arm with him as you both are descending the grand steps down into the opulent ballroom. You giggle a bit behind your white silk glove, he smirks at you.

“Fuck this indeed.” You agree softly, he leans down then, lips just a breath from yours.

“I love that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Mmm, do you now?” Your eyes meet.

“Should I show you how much?” He whispers, and for a moment it’s as if everything in the grand room fades but him.

It’s just you and your Duke, cussing about the party ahead of you, his gaze and words making you flush under the glimmering chandeliers above, highlighting the silver glint of your dress, and the bright white suit Satoru wears tonight. He takes one of your gloved hands, pressing a kiss to the back of it, you exhale when his lips are hovering just above yours.

“You’d kiss me on the lips, in front of all these people?” You tease, he chuckles then, cupping your face.

“I’d do a lot more than that, bury my face under your skirts. Ah, look at you, thoughts driving you to blush?” You take a breath and look around, seeing hundreds of eyes on both of you.

“They’re talking about us, Toru.” He peeks and waves a hand dismissively, setting to walk with you again.

“Saying how beautiful you are.”

“How handsome you are.”

“We’ve gotten sappy, haven’t we?” You grin.

“Positively smushy.” Now Satoru grins.

“Smushy!? Is that a word?”

“It is indeed! Oh Satoru I just want to keep this happiness, not…” You trail off as you both start to greet people now, and you see her, Adelia.

Many people look back and forth from you to her, and now you know a lot more, more than you ever wished to. Satoru feels you tense next to him, a calming hand on the small of your back, fingers brushing up and down. He’s disgusted seeing her, how one person can look like you but be fucking horrible is still unknown to him, but now you have figured it out.

Adelia is your cousin, thank god she’s not a sister, Satoru had a panic attack when you had done some digging. She is your mother’s little sister’s child, one that they had sent off to Scotland, and no one heard of again essentially. Adelia making her own way here is through her own feats, it seemed she did not even come to England until she was an adult.

So you are… related.

You had a feeling of course, it was too uncanny not to, but hearing it from your staff, a staff that basically raised you, cinched it all in. Of course they had been sworn to secrecy, but they had no problem telling you once you explained your situation. It is better than what you thought, what if she was a sister, you felt sick just thinking of that, this was quite tangled enough.

“I still can’t believe it all.” Satoru says, shaking his head. “Oh if I just met you first, you know it would have saved many, many problems.”

“I was rather young then, hmm? How long ago was it?”

“It was a good six years ago when I met her. I suppose you are a little younger than me, am I an old lecher to you!?” He teases, acting affronted.

“Shut it, you're twenty seven, you’re not much older. You still look like a college boy in leading strings.”

“Take that back, insolent little brat.”

“Make me.” You stick your tongue out at him, making his blue eyes glitter, when he looks over your shoulder now and pauses, scowling, his entire mood shifts then as you feel a gaze burning your back. “On no, what is it?”

You look behind you then, to see the King headed straight towards you, him and Adelia challenging the fresh new bliss Satoru and you have is brutal to handle. Every time you think that Satoru and you are so happy finally, there is Nanami in the street seeing you both, there’s one of Satoru’s exes, but now it’s a King, who oddly has his sights on you.

And your…. cousin… ugh.

“Look at you.” King Sukuna’s husky voice says your name softly over the music floating around you all, a cacophony of whispers, giggles, music and heels on the floor. And not only that, but he says your first name, making Satoru positively seethe behind you.

“Your Majesty.” You greet cooly.

“Aren’t you the prettiest thing here.” He murmurs, eyes raking and taking far too many liberties. He then takes your gloved hand and kisses it.

“Certainly not, your Majesty. But thank you.” You politely curtsey, people onlook with little smiles, at the diamond of the season and the King with his attentions on her, you hear their whispers and feel their gazes.

Even married women could not necessarily turn a King down, it was notoriously known, many Kings could have whomever they wanted, and the men had to handle it, even a powerful man such as Duke Gojo. However, you still cannot fathom why he wants to go so far, he is certainly attractive, and a King.

What is he playing at?

“May I have the honor of a dance, Duchess?” He murmurs, eyes glinting a crimson as he smirks on his tanned face, wearing an opulent velvet brocade tonight, he certainly was swooned over.

You look at Satoru, there’s nothing you both can do outwardly, he gives you a little nod, hands clenched into fists at his sides, as he watches the King of England take his wife onto the dance floor. He snatches up two glasses of champagne from a butler walking, downing them in two gulps, looking at his surprised face, his mouth dropped open to Satoru’s amusement.

“Fuck something stronger, please. I know the King has to have some good whiskey” Satoru then hands him several notes, and the butler nods eagerly.

“Right away, your Grace!” He runs off, and soon Satoru is given a glass of whiskey, he sighs, sipping it and watching you over the crystal glass.

“Keep em coming.” The butler bobs his head eagerly.

Satoru is watching you twirl in King Sukuna’s arms, Sukuna’s big hand taking over your little back, pressing you far too close, his other hand encapsulating yours, he’s grinning lewdly down at you, you’re maintaining a smile for appearances. Satoru can tell, it’s not a true smile, something he sees so much more these days, something that captures his heart and soul.

Seeing you smile so sleepy at him in the morning, when you’re in his arms. It’s the sweetest thing in the world, your little giggles when he kisses on your neck, your sassy grin when you find some new ticklish spot of his, and torture him then with your discovery. You are so very beautiful when you truly smile, how it brightens the entire room.

This is that ‘perfect Duchess smile’ of yours.

Satoru falls deeper every fucking day for you, so deep it aches, gnawing at his stomach at the thought of ever losing you, he feels he does not even deserve you, and that at any point you’ll come to your senses. He has just started to get comfortable with the thought that you chose him, when the King and Adelia have come to fuck with both of you.

“Speak of the witch.” He grumbles, when she steps up to him, hand on his shoulder, he shrugs it off.

“Care for a dance, your Grace?” She rolls the words off her tongue, shifting her hips from side to side and batting her lashes.

Satoru scoffs. “Oh, fuck no.”

She glares up at him, it’s nothing like your glare, that feisty little way you set your chin, purse your lips, how your pretty eyes narrow and you decimate him the way only you can. No, this is just her… being Adelia, being the woman who destroyed him, made him so afraid to be vulnerable with you, so sure you’d rip his heart out, especially once he started feeling so much.

He knew it that night of the masquerade, seeing you with your baker… or as his still sore ribs remind him… boxer boyfriend you had. Seeing him touch you, it had awakened something insane in him that night, when he’d been with you in the hallway, when he’d pressed against you, held you and fucking cried, and you had cried right with him, hadn’t you?

You both knew then, that there was something there with you both, something he was destroying completely before it could even begin, and pushing you to help him destroy it. When he’d begged to taste you again, fuck he was pathetic for you, but you’d let him. Though when he’d truly drunk you up in that carriage, after that night at your parents?

You ended him.

He’s so enamored with you dancing, with aching to punch a damn King in the face, he can blissfully ignore this pest of a woman next to him. Satoru sees him dip you over his arm, watches the hair you have coiled in those pretty little ringlets fall over his arm, he swoops you low and then picks you back up in his arms, spinning you slowly to the awws of the room.

Satoru wants to rip his fucking hands off.

“You’re still here?” Satoru finally acknowledges the annoying pest next to him, she pouts up at him, batting long lashes.

“You do know he can have her if he wants?”

“What do you care? And she doesn’t want to.”

“You’ve always been foolish, Satoru. But you know, sometimes I think to myself, I should have only been with you.” Satoru glares down at her now, raising a thing white brow, looking at the spitting image of you trying to fuck with him.

“Shouldn’t have fucked my dad, or all the other men?” She has enough grace to look down for a moment, before stepping closer.

“I’ll explain more if we were to have a moment alone, about your father, about everything.”

“I have no desire to be near you. Go find some dick to hop on, you were quite good at that I suppose. She is much better though.”

“You’re petty and lying, as if her prissy ass is some wild thing in the bedroom, can she even handle how freaky you are?”

Satoru snorts. “I’m exceedingly pleased with her. You’re mad you did not get any of that wealth from your mother, a noble, aren’t you?” She gasps, and he chuckles. “Yes we know, you’re her cousin.”

“How on-”

“Will you go?” Satoru watches as the dance ends, and the King is leading you away from the crowd, his eyes narrow as you look back over your shoulders at them both.

“Oh look, a private moment with the King. And… well Satoru, he is quite skilled in the bed, not as eager as you though, something to be said for that.” Satoru grips her wrist now, as she has a hand on his arm, she gasps just a bit.

“I assure you I’m no virgin any longer, as you enjoyed bragging to my wife, as if she cares.”

“Odd one cousin took your virginity, and you took hers.” Satoru tenses then, and Adelia laughs, a nasty little laugh. “Oh you didn’t! Oh poor Satoru, you’re just not her first pick are you?”

“You have no idea of what you fucking speak of.” Satoru lets her wrist go, wondering where you are, he starts walking through the crowds of people, wishing he could shove everyone out of his way and not have to make stupid polite fucking conversation.

He trusts you, he does, but he doesn’t trust that King, you’re still young and sweet, and he does not want him manipulating you, pressuring you. Adelia trails behind him, he contemplates knocking her out, he’s not above it truly, but he holds himself in, walking by the crowned jewel room, seeing Sukuna behind you, his hands on your waist.

Adelia yanks him into the next room, shutting the door, and he finally snaps, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “What the fuck is your end game here? How do you get a King to go along with it?”

“I love this rough side of you, Satoru.” She cooes, fingers trailing down his chest, he smacks them off, backing away, fury rising in his chest.

“I swear to god if you touch me once more, I am not yours to touch, or to manipulate anymore.” She shakes her head at him, sighing and slipping down her sleeves, then more, he stops her. “I have no interest in you.”

“None at all? Seems like you needed my copy to be satisfied.”

“She is everything you could never be.”

“And what is she doing in that room, Satoru, is he touching her?” She whispers, taking his hand as she slips her bodice so low her breasts are revealed, her nipples taut, he looks away at the ceiling, rage making him sick. “What would you do, if he fucked her, hmm?”

“I’d be fucking sick and furious, but I sure won’t be doing a goddamn thing with you, nor any woman.” He yanks his hand back, turning away. “Cover yourself up, stop embarrassing yourself, dear god.”

“Would you let her have her way with anyone?”

“She will not.”

“So explain the virginity?”

“As if it’s your business. Dear god you make a man want to slap you across a room, I hope you know I’m no gentleman.” He turns back, thankfully she’s covered up, her arms crossed. “Give it, what is your game?”

“Ever think I want you back, Satoru? Ever think that I regret everything?” She blinks back tears, he rolls his eyes, they’re unmoving and unbelievable.

“What do you suddenly wish to be my wife? You can never be, fuck you had your stupid chance then, I would have moved mountains for you.” The pain sets in, the torture she put him through. He’s just finally starting to feel like him again, like Satoru Gojo, after years and goddamn years of being a whore, a cruel man.

“Perhaps a mistress, anything to have you back Satoru.” He shoves her off him again, as she steps closer, putting her hands on his chest, looking at him with eyes that he thought he loved, but he feels nothing but contempt. “I miss you, truly miss you, miss everything you did to me, how I felt.”

She’s brushing her fingers across his cheek, making his skin crawl. “I’ll never have a mistress, and I’ll never leave her.”

“For what, what is so special about her? I expected you to jump on this, do you know how in love with me you were? I’ve never felt it since, and I never will again.” She’s crying now, and he cares not, he just wants to get you before Sukuna has hands on you, he does not know his motivations still.

“You will not feel love because you’re a horrible person. And guess what, Adelia?”

“Wh-what?”

“You made me just like you.” He whispers, hands in his pockets, bending down so that they are just an inch apart. “I was a horrible man, I was fucking women right in front of her, I was shit to her. Fuck I was perhaps worse than you, took all my anger out from being with you on her. She shouldn’t even talk to me, yet she chose me, and you nor anyone will ever make me fuck up again.”

She blinks a bit, taking a breath, looking away then. “Satoru I am sorry for what I did, your father promised me a place in society, it was something even you could not offer truly.”

Satoru laughs without humor. “Expect me to feel sorry for you?”

She gasps. “I was from no wealth like you, like your Duchess, despite being from nobility. I had nothing, I earned my place.”

“By sleeping with men? You did not earn a goddamn thing. She earns her place when she is by my side, helping villages, when she listens to me, when she was honest with me, when she gave me a chance I did not deserve. You have not earned anything you have, including whatever you’re doing with the King. You’re nothing Adelia, worse than nothing actually.”

She smacks him hard across the cheek then, the sound echoes in the room, Satoru does not flinch. “You’ve become so cruel, where is the sweet Satoru that I once knew!?”

Meanwhile

“This is the crown and scepter, go on, touch it.” Sukuna says, hard body behind yours, taking one of your hands and putting it on the shimmering gold crown, you hesitate, hating the nearness, hating that sad look you saw on Satoru’s face, making you worry for him and what Adelia would say.

Would she get to him again? Would he be able to stand firm and ignore the lies she spins? Those are your true worries, not if Satoru would stray, in your heart you know he would not, in your heart you know you are his, and he is yours. But you do know the effect and change she had on him in such a short time, and worry her poison will seep into his brain.

“These look heavy, your Majesty.” You manage to say, some small talk to perhaps ease the tension.

“Sukuna.” His voice is deep, his hands slipping against you.

“Your Majesty.” You turn and look up at him, he’s grinning looking wicked, fingers brushing up and down your bare arm. “You are too bold, even for a King.”

“I simply do not mince words, write stupid fucking poems, I say what I want, and I get everything I want.”

“Not me.”

“No?” You shake your head.

“I mean no disrespect, but my heart is spoken for.” He hums quietly, hands trailing up to your shoulders, the backs of his fingers against your collarbone, watching goosebumps rise at the contact.

“Your body is spoken for as well?” He asks huskily, eyeing your decolletage hungrily, your fists clench, breasts rising and falling as you struggle to maintain your composure.

“My body is indeed spoken for, your Majesty.” He smirks just a bit, another hand pressing against your waist, pulling you gently to him.

“Have a night with me, let me show you things your pretty boy Duke could never, I see it in you, the desire to be filled everywhere, hmm? Desire to have your pretty neck choked, have these bitten and bruised.” He dares to brush his fingers against your breasts. “Oh if you were mine you’d have so many marks you wouldn’t wear this, so sore you wouldn’t walk.”

He leans so close, his lips a breath from yours, you pull your head back, jaw setting. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid I have marks all over, just not where you can see. And the ones you could? I cover up.” You say with a pretty smile, he chuckles, tilting your chin up to look into his eyes.

“I see I read you well then, that fire in your eyes, bet you’re fucking insatiable.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes, his thumb brushes over your lower lip, making you want to recoil.

“I am indeed with my husband. Sukuna, can I be frank with you?”

“Ah, you say my name?”

“Listen, I get it, you’re handsome, you get what you want, you’re a King… hard to resist.”

He grins. “You think I’m handsome, huh?” He has a self satisfied smirk you try to not roll your eyes at.

“Oh god. Yes, of course you are, thus, you can have anyone you wish, including my cousin.”

“Ah, figured that out?”

“I did. And I know this is some game between you both, what has she done to make you try this hard at me? What agreement do you have?” You cross your arms, stepping back, and Sukuna laughs then, throwing his head back, booming laughter reigning in the empty room.

“She simply expressed wanting to try with your Duke again, I figured fuck it, some amusement because god the life of a King is so boring now. Oh to be a king in the war of the roses, or something better than this. Stupid balls and operas, and idle fucking gossip. I found the idea entertaining, so I brought her.”

You blink in confusion, it’s all for fun!? “So why me? Am I just some distraction so she can get Satoru?”

“No, actually. This is where you’re confused, Duchess.” He grabs you by your waist now, pulling you against him. “I am not trying to have you for some game with her, I saw you and just fucking wanted you. Badly, too.”

“Not for a game? I do not believe you.”

He shakes his head, gaze dropping you your lips, your hands go to his chest, pressing for him to back away, but he does not budge. “Do you really not know the effect you have? Did he do that much damage?”

You blink back tears then, looking away, Sukuna takes the opportunity to kiss down the side of your neck, hot messy kisses, you’re pushing at him but the man is made of brick it seems, casually holding you too close. His lips go up to your ear, hot breath tickling it, making you shiver.

“I heard the rumors, I must wonder how or why he wouldn’t want you, even if you look like her. Did he make you think so little of yourself?” You hate it, the memories he is stirring, the feelings he’s making you feel, when he takes your face so possessive in his big hand, while the other presses into your lower back.

“It is none of your business, Sukuna. None. What me and my husband went through is our business.” You hear your voice breaking, feeling such anger at how he can so easily bring those memories back.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, thumb brushing over your fluttering pulse, you can feel your chest tightening under the stress of it, of being against him, when all you want is Satoru, all you need is Satoru. You do not want to think of how cruel he was at the beginning, because those memories take you to a dark, dark place, one you never wish to visit again.

“I could make you feel so good, like you deserve. It’s not just your gorgeous little body or pretty face…” His hands trail lewdly down your curves, thumb brushing over your nipple, your hands clenched into fists, breath coming quicker. “It’s your fire, burning so hot, fuck I’d love to feel it.”

“Watch that you do not get burned by it.” You whisper in response, he smirks, so cocky and arrogant, you itch to smack him.

“I’d get burned if it meant a moment with you, and no I do not do this, and I do not do it as a game. Do you not wish to feel like a Queen?” He murmurs, you shake your head. “Oh no? Well, do you think he’ll resist her charms, stay so loyal?”

“If he does not I… I cannot think of that.” He’s playing you, making you think of things you want to shove down, you refuse to do so, shaking your head more firmly now. “I will not think of it.”

“Ah, so let me show you what you’re missing, then Duchess, so you know what you turn down.” He slams his lips against yours, you shove at him again, but he drags you against him, mouth hot and open, tongue trying to get past your sealed lips, pressing deeper until he’s reached his goal, moaning.

Sukuna’s kiss is brutal, passionate and fervent, his hands gripping your ass, dragging you against him. You take a breath, turning your head, for him to turn it back, eyes glinting in the dark, brows raised, his lips parted. You try to step back, but he’s kissing you again, hands sliding up your skirts, up your thighs, and you bite his lower lip then, shoving him.

He chuckles, looking at how hard you bit, lip bleeding just a drop, which he licks. “You are fiery, fuck do you not know what I’d do with you?” He cups your face again, you glare up at him, fucking furious.

“You won’t ever have me. Guess what, even a King does not get whatever he wants, hmm?” You say now, shoving at the brick wall of a man again, he shakes his head with a smirk.

“I can tell you’re excited, I can feel it, see it written all over you.”

“I am furious, is what I am. You will not touch me again.”

“Oh?” He brushes your hair back, and you do it then, you haul off and smack the king of fucking england right in his arrogant face.

Shit.

Meanwhile.

“You changed me with your games.” Satoru retorts to Adelia, just moments before. “Now go fuck off to France, or anywhere, as long as I don’t have to see you again.” Satoru hears a smack echo in the next room, smirking and wondering if his wife just hit the King of England. “That’s my girl.”

“Your girl!?”

Satoru strides past her, as you stride out on the King that you just slapped, and both of you see each other then, in the hall. His cheek reddened from Adelia, your hand stinging from smacking Sukuna, and you damn near burst into tears as you both look at each other. He’s breathing heavily, you’re breathing in short little pants, striding to each other then.

Satoru picks you up in his arms, hugging you so tightly, putting you down and cupping your face, studying you carefully, you feel so good in his arms. “Are you all right, baby?”

You nod quickly. “I may have smacked the King.”

He grins, melting you, but you see it too, the glimmer in his baby blues. “I heard, fuck that turned me on.”

You giggle, insanely, as King Sukuna and bitch A0delia watch you both. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

“You fucking love how insane I am, hmm?” You nod, and he’s looking at Sukuna now behind you, before seeing your lips, slightly swollen and reddened, then you see Adelia, her bodice slightly askew, sleeve completely down.

“Did she try to…”

“Did he kiss you!?”

You both nod at your simultaneous questions, then Satoru glares at King Sukuna, and you glare at Adelia, then you both look back at each other in a silent agreement, before you step over to Adelia, who surprisingly has dried tears on her cheeks as she looks at you. You cross your arms, shaking your head as you near her, and as Satoru nears the King.

“Leave him out of your games, he doesn't want you anymore.” Your words just anger her, she steps up to you, shoving at you, you laugh then, back-handing her right in the face as if on instinct.

“You bitch!”

Sukuna and Satoru grin at you, before Satoru scowls at him, and Adelia cups her face in shock. “Do not touch my husband again, is it clear, cousin?”

“You two psychos deserve each other.” She grumbles then, as Satoru shoves the King against a wall, hands on either side of him, Sukuna just smirks.

“Going to hit a King, pretty boy?”

“Pretty boy here would love to break every one of your fingers, one by one for touching her. You do not come near her again, I don’t care who you are. She is my wife. Mine.” Sukuna sighs, patting Satoru on the shoulder then, surprising all three of you in the empty hall.

“A hell of a wife you have. Don’t fuck that one up, because I think she kind of likes me.” You snort, shaking your head as Satoru steps back, glaring.

“I gave you no such impression.” He walks to you then, tilting up your chin and sighing.

“What a shame. These lips… ah well.” He saunters off, with Adelia shouting at him, waving her arms around.

“Her lips are better than mine!? Excuse me!” You and Satoru snort and shake your heads, he comes to hold you from behind, pressing you against him, kissing your cheek. You lean back against him.

“You think they are done?” You ask softly, he exhales, pulling you even closer, before turning you to him, walking forward until you’re pressed against the wall, hands pressing against your waist, hands you crave, hands you love.

“They better be. I’ll kiss every fucking memory of him out of your head.” You whine out softly, and Satoru kisses you boldly, right against that wall, cupping your face, kissing you over and over and over.

You get dizzy from it, from his nipping at your lips, from his tongue delving in your mouth, drinking your soft cries, your body reacts quickly, you feel that heat pool in your tummy, spreading between your thighs. Your own hands slide up to wrap around his neck, fingers interlocking as you tiptoe.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, desperately, you gulp, nodding quickly, uncaring if anyone saw you both.

You’re married, let them see.

“I love you, Satoru. Are you all right? Was she…”

“She means nothing. No one means fucking anything but you.” You’re melting now, as he’s shaking while he holds you, hand enwrapping in the back of your hair at the nape of your neck.

You drown in him, as your breaths mingle, as his forehead rests on yours, your eyes shut as you feel him, as the love hums through you, your entire being. “Satoru, I need you.” You whisper.

“I need you.” He hums softly. “I need out of this damned palace.”

“Let us leave.” Satoru and you rush through the ball, you’re both breathless by the time you await outside for your carriage, in the dark, chilly night you shiver just a bit, Satoru pulls you against him, warming you. “I’ll never let someone touch you.”

“I don’t want anyone to. I totally smacked him hard.”

“And you backhanded her.” You both laugh, you’re certainly both insane, aren’t you? But none of that matters, not when you have this, when you know you both can get through it all.

“My hand hurts.” He takes off your gloves then, kissing the back of your hands gently, smirking as he runs a thumb over the back of your knuckles.

“I bet it does. Tell me this wasn’t learned from the baker.”

“No! Self taught.” He snorts, and soon you’re both nestled against the carriage, and you’re pulled onto his lap, moaning as your lips meet again and again, he pulls back for a breath, as do you. “I’m so glad she did not get to you.”

“She tried her best. And you?” He asks, fingertips brushing up the line of your jaw delicately.

“He tried his best as well. Apparently, he was not part of her scheme truly? He just desired me and also wanted amusement.”

“Of course he desires you. Who doesn’t? Have to fight off a King, my best friend and a goddamn baker.” You giggle, shaking your head at him, smacking kisses along his flushed cheeks.

“Not your friend truly!”

“Mmm, debatable. Everyone wants you, but I have you.”

“Everyone wants you, Satoru. And yet I have you.”

He cups your face. “All I even fucking see is you.”

“Satoru…” You’re kissing him again, desperately, he kisses you senseless, you feel it, the desire spreading even more, wanting to be claimed by him, as he desires to mark you his.

“You’re all mine, Princess, hmm?” Satoru murmurs, slipping up your skirts, fingers darting across your garters delicately, you cry out softly, head falling back, hair falling as he starts pressing his lips against your throat.

“All yours- mmm!” Your hands enwrap in his silky hair as the carriage gently rocks you both, you feel his hard length pressing against your heat. His tongue trailing a line up a vein he sees on your throat, all the way up to your ear, his breath tickling you as you roll your hips.

His hands press into your hips, thumbs against your pelvis, pulling you even harder on him, you feel your cunt soaking his trousers, bare under your skirts, he feels himself stiffening painfully, straining against them. His tongue darts to trace your earlobe, he makes that little whimper sound as you roll on him, feeling your cunt soaking through.

“No one can ever have you, no one can take you from me.” Duke Gojo’s words are husky, desperate, one finger finding your clit and rolling in circles, your eyelashes flutter as your hips arch, his other hand cups your face. “No one.”

You’re looking at his glittering blue eyes in the dark carriage, hands slipping across his broad shoulders over his tail coat, staring into eyes you love, you adore. “No one can ever have me. It’s only you, Satoru.”

He moans now, slamming his lips on yours, the kiss is desperate and messy, much like the two of you together. You’re not perfect, far from it, you’re both a mess, you’re both as insane as this desire that pulls you, that irrevocably ties you together, as insane as the hungry kiss is. Your tongues are dripping saliva, your lips are bruising, your hands are everywhere.

You can never get enough of him.

He can never get enough of you.

“That’s it, Princess, cum for me.” He orders softly, in that husky fucking voice, and he drinks your cries when you start gushing where he’s flicking your clit faster and faster, shaking your head. He scowls. “You disobey me, hmm brat?”

“Wanna cum with you in me.” You murmur, he groans then, hastily pulling back, you eagerly help him undo his belt, unbutton his trousers, his cock springing free, you press your thumb against the slit that’s oozing pretty pearls of precum. “You’re so pretty Satoru.”

“You’re pretty, Duchess. Especially riding my cock.” He slides his tip against you while you brace yourself on his shoulders, he watches your brows go together, your mouth open in a little O, watches your eyes dilate. “Fuck you’re so pretty when you’re cock thirsty.”

“Cock thirsty!? You… know… I… please!” He smirks now, the little shithead you’re more used to, but there is something so different now.

You both are so in love you cannot see or think of anything but being together, and fuck if tonight hadn’t made you both crave it more. You, craving him to fill you up, and him, craving to pump himself in you, to leave you so full of him there’s nothing but him. But there is nothing but Satoru to you, his eyes hungrily watching you, while he’s pecking kisses on your breasts.

You’re sinking down on him, the stretch burning so delicious, the carriage jostles you just a bit, and you sink further than you intended, earning your gasp and his groan, he bites at your breasts, hands sinking you fully now. You don’t ever take this much so quickly, your velvety walls are spasming around his cock as you try to loosen up, he can’t take how tight you are.

“Can’t hold back, Princess, you feel too good.” He murmurs, apologetically, you just roll your hips, eating up those snowy lashes fluttering.

“Then don’t hold back, Duke.” He moans at that, lifting your hips and pounding up into your cunt now, you’re crying out so loud in the dark night, while you all head home slowly over cobblestone streets, and he’s pumping you so full. “Toru!”

“Pussy is fuckin made for me, hmm?” He’s mumbling, nonsensical, fucking up into you so hard, you’re trembling as you take him, feeling his tip bruise your cervix, and you’re close, so close.

You just nod weakly as he watches you, his eyes dark and hungry, as he guides your hips to move in time with his thrusts. The slap of skin on skin echoes in the enclosed space, mixed with your soft cries and his deep moans. One of Satoru’s hands moves to your neck, his thumb resting gently on your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat as he squeezes gently.

“Look at me when you cum for me, Duchess. I want to see those beautiful eyes roll back in pleasure, just for me.” His voice is a low growl, a quiet demand, you struggle to focus, feeling the pressure coil in your tummy.

You lock eyes with him, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing second, the passion and the love that abounds and grows every day, somehow even the dirtiest words that spill from his mouth are sweet. Pretty little slut is sweet to your ears, the squishing of your wetness on his cock is beautiful especially when your husband looks at you like this.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave then, spreading all over your body, your cries echoing loudly while one of his hands squeezes your throat, watching you fall apart all over him. Your walls are convulsing around his cock, you’re barely able to hold yourself up anymore.

“Mine, mine, mine.” He grunts with every thrust, releasing your throat now, you nod quickly, gasping for a greedy breath.

“Y-yours.” You whisper, he needs it, and you need this, after everything to know who you belong to, and who he belongs to.

The grip on your hips tightening, his beautiful eyes never leaving yours, when you feel him thickening, hear the catch in his breath, the crease between his brows, you know he’s close. You press his back against the velvet carriage seat, taking a breath and rocking up and down his length again, he lets you take control, watching you hungrily.

“God, fucking look at you.” You feel your cheeks heat up at his praise, as his hands press against your stays, the fabric marking your skin, as he watches you with a lidded gaze.

“W-want you to cum for me, Toru. Please.” Your plea earns his lips slamming on yours, and he pins you down fully on his entire length, groaning into your mouth as he finds his release.

His hot spurts of cum fill you, and his throbbing cock edges you again, you’re falling with him, hopelessly into him in the little carriage, arms wrapping around your waist as he keeps pumping his cum deeper. You feel tears falling on your cheeks, legs shaking as you ride him slower and slower, as he fucks you both through the aftershocks and you’re both trembling messes.

“How are you so sexy? What you do to me?” He murmurs now, you giggle a bit, breathless, he eases out of your sore cunt, your cum and his dripping out of your little hole and onto him.

“What you do to me. Having me act so wanton and scandalous.” You tease, he chuckles a bit, sighing and cupping your face with two hands.

“Do you know what I wish, Duchess?”

“What is it, Satoru?” You both adjust yourselves somewhat, he turns you so you are sideways in his lap, pressing kisses all over your face.

“That we could redo our wedding. That I could… fix it.” You hear the emotions in his throat, you sigh, nodding then. “That you didn’t hate that night, that you weren’t crying on the fucking floor.”

“Satoru we are so far past it-”

“It does not matter, I will hate myself for it forever.”

You take his hand, pressing a kiss on the back of his knuckles, feeling emotions capture your heart. “We need not think on it, I do not hold any resentment any longer in my heart.”

“I want to do it over. I want a true wedding, I want a honeymoon… I want so much more for you than I gave.” You feel his heart racing under your palm as it rests on his chest over his dress shirt. You watch the man you adore have to handle what he has done, and all you can do is try to reassure him you do not hold anything against him, but he has to live with it.

“Do not endlessly punish yourself, I want us to be happy.” He exhales, shaking his head, hand stroking your back gently.

“This will help me, please agree to it.”

“Agree to what exactly, Satoru? What do you need?”

“I want to marry you because we want to, not because we were forced to, even though lord knows I couldn’t be happier I am with you. I want it for us, and us only. I want to carry you over that threshold, in my fucking arms. I want to make love to you on our wedding night, and have you fall asleep in my bed, and wake you up licking and kissing every inch.” His voice gets more hoarse with every word, and your heart is racing, your chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Satoru…”

“No, Princess, I need this. I need you to feel desired and loved like you were supposed to, like I should have.” He swipes tears that fall down your cheeks, you feel like you’re spinning, like you’re dizzy, like you’re in a dream.

“We have it now, I feel your love now. I feel it burning for me, as I burn for you, I feel you everywhere.” He gulps, adam’s apple bobbing.

“I know you do, but I need to show you what I should have given you, fuck what you deserve. You deserved to be happy that night, looking so beautiful, so hopeful just for me to crush you.” You’re sobbing now, as the pain sinks in, it’s almost as if you cannot imagine Satoru did it.

“I want to pretend it did not happen.” He shakes his head.

“It did happen, I did those things. I need to right them, to do it all over, to take you far the fuck away from here, somewhere beautiful, fuck you on every surface and feed you and pamper you. Like the Princess you are to me.” His words make you dizzy, images flitting your mind.

“You already make me feel that way, I swear you do.” You murmur, he takes your hand then, thumbing the pearls of the ring on your delicate finger.

“I want to marry you again, it can be just us two. But I want it, and I need it, to take you away and give you everything, to make it special for you. You deserve that and more. Let me show you my love, please, marry me because you want to, because I want you to. Because I love you so deeply it kills me, because I cannot imagine a life without you.”

“Oh, Satoru!” You are a sobbing mess now, kissing him over and over, nodding and sniffling as he holds you to him, so tightly you cannot breathe, you’re nodding weakly, and he’s smiling against your lips then.

“Will you marry me, Duchess? Truly marry me this time?” He whispers, you feel it, the love and devotion humming through every inch of your body.

“I will marry you, Duke Gojo.” He kisses you deeply, and soon the carriage comes to a halt, but you all stay there, laughing through your tears, he’s brushing your hair back, sighing and shaking his head.

“I do not deserve you.” You shake your head.

“You do deserve me, you deserve love, you deserve it all. You are not who you were, and you know I loved you even then.” You say, his full lips turn up at the corners as he gazes at you lovingly.

“I was an ass.” You giggle a bit, breathless.

“You still are a bit.”

“Excuse me?” He raises a brow, you keep giggle. “I’ll have to punish you for that. Oh, you’re far too excited.”

You bite your lip, hugging him and burying your face against his neck. “When is this wedding, hmm?”

“I will set to plan something very soon, I also will have us go to my estate in Scotland.”

“I’ve never been!”

“No? It’s beautiful. I’ll make everything right this time, I swear it.” You lean back, looking into his glistening eyes, feeling his breaths against your lips.

“We do not have to do this, but I also would love to. I have wondered, how would a true wedding night have been? If you were… my first. I wish so badly that things did not happen as they did, but then… were they meant to?”

“I was never meant to be so cruel.” He says, and you feel his anguish.

“I say let us not look upon the past, perhaps a new wedding would be a way for a fresh start. I daresay I’m rather excited.”

“God I love you.” You’re soon in his arms, he’s carrying you inside, kissing you over and over, the staff including Nan is smiling at you all as he carries you up the winding stairs. “I could hold you forever.”

“I could stay in your arms forever.” Satoru soon has you in a bath, he’s gently washing your hair, fingers pressing against your scalp, earning your sigh of happiness as he does. “Satoru…”

“Hmm?”

“I never want this to end. Us, together, so happy. Promise me, promise me nothing will tear us apart again.” You whisper, emotions making you choke up, he frowns then, cupping your face, seeing the tears glimmering as the hot water gently runs over your skin.

“Why are you saying this? Are you… do you doubt me because…” You hear the worry in his voice.

“No, no. I do not doubt you but I fear things. I fear it will all be over, and I love you so much I’ll be left with nothing.” His sweet touches and kisses melt you, you feel the anxiety lessen bit by bit.

“Breathe, please.” He orders softly, you take a breath, nodding carefully. “I will never leave you, I will never make such foolish mistakes again, I will be with you until I take my last breath, do you understand?”

You sob softly as you both kiss, as you turn and straddle him, and the water is sloshing around you both, your hands dripping down as you cup his face, as you slide your fingers through his wet, silky locks. Staring into a face that you adore, his intense gaze and tight grip reassuring you as his words sink in.

Until your last breath.

“I will be with you until then, I will be with you after, there is no me without you anymore.” He places his hand on your beating heart, feeling it flutter just for him, looking at your perfect breasts rising and falling, glistening from the water, making him so hungry again for you.

When isn’t he?

Your words of love melt him, but he’s also a man, and a man that is helpless and hopelessly turned on by his pretty wife. “Keep looking at me like that and I’m putting more cum in you.” You gasp, earning his chuckle. “You like that idea, hmm?”

“I’m sore, you fiend.”

“Your stamina…”

“Oh fuck you!” He sighs, tilting his head back as you study his perfect features, so happy for once everything else is just a whisper. “I love you.”

“And I, you.”

One Week Later

The rays of sunlight flit in, you feel it, Satoru’s firm lips on your neck, his hand splaying your tummy, you whine out and arch your back, earning his groan. He presses you on your back then, kissing across your chest, down to your breasts, shifting your thin silk chemise down to lap at one of your sensitive nipples. You cry out at it, hands entwining in his hair.

“Oh, Satoru… mmm! They hurt.” He chuckles, nipping one, it hurts so much it feels good, then he’s turned his attention to the other, and you wince in slight pain again, they’re aching. “Ah!”

“Do they really hurt that badly? You’re not due for monthlies are you.” He keeps kissing down your body, slipping the chemise to reveal every little inch of you, as you gasp and arch your back.

“No, not for a week or so. It’s so strange… oh that feels so good, though, please…” You’re whining as he plays with them more, you could almost orgasm from just his touch on your nipples, cunt dripping wet. The silk moves gently across your skin, a whisper in the quiet morning.

The lights play on the planes of his face, the way his hair falls just so, the way his eyes lock on yours as he laps at your nipple again, in slow circles, one hand bracing himself as the other squishes a breast in his grip. It hurts again, you’re jerking just a bit at it, nipples pronounced and ready for him.

“Well I like this, you all sensitive.” He teases, grinning so sexy, you feel your cheeks heat up at it.

“You like to hurt me a bit, hmm?” You challenge, whispering, Satoru leans back down, sucking a peak into his mouth, harder, his cheeks hollowing as he does, you scream out at the sensation now, when his teeth press against your areola, and the sensations spread everywhere. “F-fuck, it h-hurts…”

“Good or bad, slutty Duchess?” He asks, going to your other peak, repeating the bite of his sharp teeth, making your tummy clench, you grind on his thigh eagerly. “Fuck feel how wet you are.”

You can’t speak, the pain and pleasure so blinding, he removes his mouth from where he’s sucked your nipple until it’s all puffy and glistening from his saliva, pressing his bare thigh up against you more. You’re dripping down his leg, clit so sensitive it rivals your nipples, he starts kissing lower now, your tummy, soft kisses at first then he’s biting you.

Across your ribs, the underside of your breasts, sucking and biting and lapping you up everywhere, making you a pathetic writhing mess for him. You’re so beautiful in the soft light of the morning, in his bed, covered in his marks, your eyes dilated in pleasure, lashes casting shadows on your precious face, a face he sees every time he shuts his eyes.

God he can’t wait to marry you, truly marry you.

He’s picturing doing this in Scotland now, perhaps on some rolling green hill, your legs spread and hair splayed on some plaid, fuck he’s so ready for it, he’s mostly got it planned out, he only hopes you’ll enjoy it, he hopes it’s something beautiful, like you deserve. He’s looking up at you as he glides your chemise down your body completely, leaving you bare for his eyes to feast on.

He drinks in every line and curve of your perfect body, your smooth skin that he presses his lips against, feeling every muscle tense as he kisses even lower, as his hands press into your hips. He inhales your sweet scent, teeth nibbling your inner thighs, enjoying the glittery bite marks he’s leaving like a trail.

Satoru gets down to your dripping wet lips of your pretty pussy, he teases his finger tip at your entrance, earning your little hole drooling all down his hand, he exhales at it. “I’ve barely touched her and she’s this wet?”

“Sensitive too.” You breathe out, every little breath of his makes you jerk, even his smirk against your thighs have you pouring out, honeyed arousal making your cunt glisten. “S-Satoru…”

“Need something, Princess?” He teases, smirking up at you, his blue eyes darkening when he presses a kiss against your clit, your body jerks as desire floods through you.

“Need you.” He moans, swiping his tongue up your slit, string of saliva and your slick dripping from his tongue, your hands enwrap in his silken white hair, crying out at the sensation. “Toru, need you in me.”

“In a minute, you taste so good. Fuck you’re dripping.” He huffs in wonder, looking at his fingers coated in you, rolling them together and then slipping two fingers in your soppy little cunt, the stretch and pressure so much you’re screaming now, as his fingers press on your spot. “That’s it, fucking feel you, s’wet for me, f-fuck.”

You hear it, his fingers playing you, you’re stupid wet it’s ridiculous, his free hand slips up to grip one of your breasts again, you’re arching up off the bed, whining out at how good it feels, his tongue swirling right along with his fingers pumping. It’s too much, you fall apart so easily for him, completely unraveling, as he drinks you up, slipping his fingers out.

You pulse around nothing when he sucks you off his fingers, white lashes fluttering, then he’s kissing you, you’re lapping your sweetness off him. In the quiet morning it’s you whining into his lips, when he flips you over, laying you on your tummy, prone over you now. You’re trembling as he wraps one hand around your throat, your eyes rolling back in your skull.

“S’good, T-Toru, ah!” Your head falls back, exposing more of your throat when his leaky tip is running his precum up and down your clit, you’re trembling as he holds you, his long fingers wrap around your throat fully.

“You love it, don’t you? Me choking your pretty neck.” He murmurs, you weakly nod, ass arching up enough to allow his tip to enter your cunt, bit by bit, sinking into your eager hole.

“I love it.” You whisper, he squeezes your throat tighter, breathy moan in your ear, fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere. “Ngh!”

You’re crying out as he begins fucking into you, one hand brutally squeezing your hip, the other, squeezing your throat, you’re fading so dizzy and weak for him, velvety walls fluttering around his length. Satoru feels you squeezing him like a fucking vise, you feel him so deep, in your tummy, everywhere. Satoru’s tip hits your cervix then, he rolls his hips, and you fall apart under him.

“Fucking feel you, god you’re so tight Princess.” Your answer is a whimper, cumming all over his length, dripping down on the sheets below. “So wet feel that cunt gripping me, f-fuck.”

Satoru’s voice is desperate, his hand squeezing even harder, your vision blackening and glitter sparkling your vision when he lets you go, turning your chin to him, lips slamming on yours. Your moans are drunk by him, he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging your hips back on his length again.

“Satoru!” You’re crying out his name, voice hoarse, he rolls his hips again, the ridge of his tip brushing on your spot, sending you fucking reeling again. Your cunt is so loud with how wet she is, skin smacking in the quiet of the morning.

“That’s it, lemme feel you, gonna fuck you s’good baby.” Satoru’s nipping on your ear, then your neck, bending over you, taking over your every sense. You gasp and cry out, while he picks up your hips, finger finding your clit and rolling. “There you go, slutty cunt pouring all over the bed, huh?”

“F-fuck you, Toru.” He chuckles before crying out, as you tighten your cunt up around him, laughing breathless when he whimpers. “Too tight?”

“Slutty brat.” He huffs, the words just urging you, when he’s flipped you to your back again, cock lining up with your entrance, shoving deep inside you again, you feel your body tingling fucking everywhere when you clamp down on him again, and he scowls at you. “Loosen up, fuck.”

“Hmm? Wh-what do you mean- ah!” Satoru sinks fully in, stuffing you so full, stretching you out while he squishes your breasts in his hand again, smiling fucking devious at you. “Ah! Fucking hurts!”

“Aw poor baby can’t take it?” He huffs, challenging you, your hips lift, and he uses the movement to pull almost all the way out.

“N-no!”

He grins, then thrusts inside to the hilt, your eyes roll back, and he’s grinning now, so smug. “So much for your talk, huh?”

You just whine, biting down on your lip, your body so sensitive now, the pleasure so intense you’re shaking, your nails digging into his shoulders, he snaps those slender hips forward, slapping his pelvis against yours, you feel it in your stomach, he’s fucking you so deep, feel him everywhere, inside you, around you. He moans and cups your face, bracing himself on his elbows.

“Gonna fuck your mind up, Duchess.” He huffs, eyes bright as his grin is psychotic, but it just makes you wetter, weaker for him. “All mine, every fucking bit of you, isn’t it?” You nod weakly, pussy aching already, but he’s clearly not done, not even close, fucking you into another orgasm that has you a mess.

“Y-yes, Toru. S’all yours.” Your words are slurred, when he’s easing back, tilting your mouth open, his saliva dripping in it. Your eyes cross as your tongue hangs out, opening for his spit, his drool, and you gasp when he slams his cock so deep, big hands pressing your thighs so far apart they ache.

Satoru wants to own you, every bit of you, looking down at the fucked out mess you are under him.

His perfect Duchess, his little princess has his spit in her open mouth, her dilated eyes keep crossing and rolling. He feels those walls clutching his cock, trying to milk him for everything he’s god, he has to pull back, gasping, he doesn’t want it to end yet, he needs his Princess a fucking mess.

Satoru pulls back, up on his knees, lifting your ass up to sink deep, your head pressing back into the pillows as you swallow his spit. “Can your pretty tits handle anything right now?”

“Th-they’re so s-sensitive- ah! B-but…. yes please.” He’s bent over you, his back arching up, tongue back on them, sucking them rough. Your hands sink into his skin on his back, nails pressing in, leaving marks while he slowly pumps into your cunt again and again.

“Perfect tits, fuckin perfect body.” You melt, blinking back tears, usually in the mornings it’s some lazy sex, him cuddling you, this is insane, this is after a fight sex, it’s after a night at the ball sex, that consuming mind fucking he’s doing, along with praising every bit of you. “Those eyes, fuck.”

“You’re t-too much.” You manage, he chuckles, breathless, stroking a tear from your cheek, easing his pace finally.

“Sore, baby?” He’s smirking, teasing you.

“It’s so much. So big.” He moans at that. “Too deep, so full.”

“Yeah so full of me?” You nod weakly, his hand presses on the bulge he’s making in your tummy, fucking slower and slower, it’s so intimate and feels so good, you feel your skin slick with sweat now, feel yourself falling off the edge of the earth, clinging to the man that makes you descend into madness.

“Full, so full. You’re everywhere Toru.” Your eyes both lock then, you stare into those blue swirling storms, his pupils blown out, as he hovers over you, your leg over his arm now, leaky tip prodding your cervix. Your sensitive breasts are heaving with every breath you take, small and shaky.

“You’re everywhere, every time I close my eyes, or open them, I want to fucking see your pretty face, pretty body.” You do cry then, it’s too much. You feel so emotional lately, especially when the man you love is working you, is cupping your face, at one moment rough and brutal, at another so slow and sweet.

“Cum in me, please, Toru.” You beg, your voice a breathy cry.

His brows furrow together, his snowy lashes lowering, he moans then, capturing your lips in another breathtaking kiss. “Only if you cum first, want your slutty cunt to milk me dry.”

You whine out, when he slips his hand down, your foot is pressed against his shoulder, his strong muscles rolling when he fucks you hard now, and just like that, you’re coming again, your cunt tightening around his cock, your body writhing underneath him as you let out strangled cries. You feel the tears pouring from pleasure and the overwhelming person that is Satoru Gojo.

“There she is, fuck. Good little Princess.” He cooes, but you hear it, his hitch in his breath, the catch in his voice, he pumps quickly then, chasing his release, and then practically cries out in his own whimper when he starts cumming, kissing your neck then biting you as he rolls his hips.

“Toru- f-fuck!” You whine out, in between sobs, when his cum is pumping up into your pussy, filling you so fucking full.

“Gonna put so many babies in you, huh?” You weakly nod, tears sticky and hot on your cheeks, when he cups your face, his cock throbbing. “You’ll look so fucking beautiful full with me.”

“Toru you’re fucking my head up and it’s the morning.” You whisper, he chuckles then, swiping tears from your cheeks. “Psychotic Duke.”

“Slutty Duchess. Mmm.” You’re pulsing around him, you’re both so sensitive, when he eases out you tremble at it, your cunt dripping his cum out, so deliciously fucking sore. He shoves two fingers in your sloppy cunt then, and watches you writhe and your eyes flutter shut.

“Sadistic ass Duke.” You whine out, he laughs softly, kissing your forehead sweetly like he’s not fingering his cum back inside you.

“No, I just want you to be full of cum for tonight. Think I’ll need to put a few more in before this dance we’re going to.” You exhale, shaking your head, when he pumps again, the squishy mess of your cunt utterly lewd.

“A few more!?” You demand, narrowing your eyes, he grins.

“There she is, my mean little Duchess. Fucking love that look.”

“The ‘I’ll kill you’ look?”

“Oh yes. Mmm, don’t you want a baby anyway? How will you have one if you waste all my seed like this? Tsk tsk.” Satoru shoves his fingers so deep, you’re pulsing around his fingers again, feeling him harden against your inner thigh, cock sticky and hot.

“S’not how it works, you just love torturing me. Ngh!” He smiles against your lips, kissing you over and over.

“I do love to abuse your pretty cunt, watch that gorgeous face as I drive you fucking crazy.”

“Sadistic.”

“You’re masochistic.”

“To be with you? Yes.”

He glares now, and you’re giggling. “You little fucking brat.”

“What- ah!” Satoru’s smacked your pussy now, your thighs tremble.

“And you like it, don’t you?”

“Fuck you. Yes.” He snorts once more, kissing you as he hits your spot again, when suddenly your tummy tenses too much, and you wince a bit at it. “Satoru… it really is too much.”

“Are you too weak?” He taunts, but your tummy really hurts suddenly, you shake your head and he pulls back. “Too much, Princess?”

“N-no. Something… I feel…” You exhale, trying to breathe.

“Is it your asthma? I’ll fetch a doctor.” He says softly, the concern clear in his voice and on his features.

“No, Toru not at all. It’s… my tummy.” You wince again, turning away from him and exhaling. “It’s so tense and I feel almost sick.”

“Did I do too much?” You shake your head again, he kisses your bare shoulders, hands gently running along your back. “I don’t want you sick for the wedding.”

“I won’t be, promise. We have a week. Um, could you tell Nan to make me something to eat maybe? I feel hungry and sick?” He frowns, then nods, pecking a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll go have her make something for you.” You smile gratefully, you both clean up, then you sit up in the bed, as the wave of nausea passes, you shake your hands and try to exhale, to focus.

Soon Nan is in your room, with your coffee and some delectable muffins, they look mouth watering then. She looks at you with a small smile. “Is everything alright Duchess?”

“I believe so. I got a little queasy, oh these look so delectable!” You inhale the muffin and smell the sugar and blueberry.

“Your favorite, Duchess. Now, take a bite.” You are starving, and nauseous, it’s an odd combination, but the food is helping somehow, coating your tummy as you nibble more and more.

“Nan, could I ask you something personal?” You murmur, as you practically devour the muffin and reach for another.

“Of course, my love. You have quite an appetite, it’s so nice to see.” You flush a bit.

“I do seem to be ravenous, hmm?” You lick sugar off a finger, sipping on the coffee now.

“It’s part of being a newlywed. Which… you will be again I see.”

Marrying Satoru.

Truly marrying him.

Yes, you all are together, but this? You cannot wait.

“Indeed, I agree. But Nan… it’s personal.” You whisper, leaning close, Nan bobs her head, leaning in. “My nipples hurt so bad, my breasts ache. I am a little worried because I’m not due for monthlies. Have you ever felt this?”

She pauses then, smiling, shaking her head. “I should have guessed.”

“Guessed what, Nan?” You tilt your head curiously, and she shocks you then, touching your tummy over your blue silk wrapper you’re wearing.

“You’re glowing, you have an appetite, your… ahem…” She eyes your bosoms, fuller than usual you notice. “They hurt. That’s all signs of being with child.”

You falter then, gasping, putting your hand on hers over your tummy. “W-with child? I… are you sure?”

Satoru walks in then, grinning at you both, before he sees her hand on your tummy, his eyes dart back and forth, where Nan is touching you. He gulps then, shaking his head, lips opening then closing, just to repeat the action, lashes blinking rapidly, as if he’s putting it all together.

You turn to him, taking his hand now. “Satoru, it's just a guess, we do not surely know yet… but…”

His mouth opens and closes once more, his eyelids lowered as they stare at where your tummy is, reaching out and touching it now, placing a hand over you. “Are you…”

You nod just a bit, feeling the swelling of happiness, along with some apprehension for how Satoru would feel. Was it just talk? Would this be too much for him? You all are just starting to have this uninterrupted bliss, this perfect morning, and though you want this so badly, you want him ready.

“Are you…” He keeps trailing off, stepping closer now, Nan watches you both with a little smile. “Pregnant?”

A/N- This is very smushy and happy, yes I know this was angst but I write Happy Ever After stories only. I am working on Nanami's side story if you wish to be tagged in that plz lmk! Tysm for those who still read this, I know it's going LONG and it's a lot. I love you all bc this has become my favorite project I've written so far!

Part Fifteen

[littlemissmaples]

🎂PICK A CAKE!🎂 II Who is your fs? + General Messages ( this second part wasn't intentional, kinda just happened lol)

Pile 1: 💚

• Your fs is very, very, very "segsy" I hear, haha (I was asked to spell it that way) they're giving me this very calming energy about them. They say "that's my mind baby" they're very flirtatious and could either be black, mixed or middle eastern, perhaps Arabic. This is more of my ethnic pile. I do sense there's the chance one of them has a beard–

Ooooh wait, one of them? Is there 2? Here I'm getting more of a masculine energy here so could it be you're not sure who your fs is and you're just debating what it is that you want? That's alright. I don't think that you're battling between 2 people, I think you're battling between 2 versions of yourself and 2 different ideals. What it is that you want and you think that you need. Or perhaps you might have a misunderstanding of what the kind of guy you want is. I'm getting some of you are in a relationship right now and you feel like things just don't connect. "You're a princess" for some of you, your father treats you well, listen to them because it's true when they say that you deserve better. Or perhaps you're involved in an arranged marriage, I feel that you still have the chance to step away from this it doesn't matter how far along you've been in this game, speak up now or forever hold your peace...

Anyways, I feel that your type is "the bad guy" maybe you like older guys or you currently like an older guy. If not I'm getting some of you, the person that you like is your fs but you're too stuck in your mind, waiting to be saved to realize it, that they're more than happy to develop something with you but while you dont have to take the lead, it's important to take the initiative and let yourself be known, let yourself say that you're interested, it's okay to let yourself be "saved" and pulled away from all of this but only if you tell them, otherwise they're going to keep on sitting back on their motorbike, completely unaware of your feelings. For a lot of you, you already know this person but they havent realized their feelings yet. Spark that initial light and set it all ablaze, they'll follow along and take care of the rest. But you have to communicate, they assume their silence is "self-respect" and they dont see you as a damsel in distress, reflect for sometime and see how you would like to go about all of this.

But in short terms who is your fs??

A guy that you already know that is somehow always on your mind even if you dont think about him much or hold heavy romantic feelings for him at the moment.

But just know this If you need it, he wants me to tell you: "I think about you too." For some of you "I think about THAT" too" perhaps a moment happened between the both of you. Be attentive and careful yes, but ultimately, at the end of this game we call life we all die. So follow your heart, choose your own path and cause a little chaos if you have to. But most of all, make sure you have fun 💛

I'm sorry if I didnt answer your question, but this is what's coming in.

Pile 2: 🧡

• Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Wow! Jeez, your first impression of this guy is going to be bizarre is not jaw dropping. They almost feel like they're a celebrity! If they're not a celebrity I feel like they're like a celebrity-look-a-like, they have a very similar face, tone of voice, even a matter of walking as someone that you like. This might be a singer/song-writter, actor for some or even a YouTube. I'm getting they might be in college and they could be white, I keep seeing Timothee Chalamet in my head but I'm getting he's more of a Tom Holland kind of guy, while your fs looks exactly how you want, he is a little bit more of the masculine kind. And for those of you who are a masc energy reading this I get the sense that, much like my fem readers I get the feeling maybe some of you actually want that "spiderman" type of love or a Tom Holland and Zendaya kind of scene about the two of you. I feel like you might, but I'm also getting that you need to not let yourself fall in a daydream too much, not because you wont have this but because you shouldn't reduce your partners and future romantic relationships into just this. I get the feeling that for some of you, your fs isn't who or how you think they are but they have traits of how believe they could be and what it is that you envision them like. But you should be flexible with this, just a little bit, I promise you'll have your dream come true but for many of you, he may sound a bit "manlier" perhaps you wanted him to have softer, more delicate features and he does but those traits dont encapsulate him entirely and for my fems, perhaps she may not be as tall as you like and maybe she might not hold traits like Zendaya but she's definitely gonna be your type. This energy Is just now coming in but some of you may be lgbt, have many types or simply are poly. That's great! But the same messages apply to you, you'll have your dream! You can have your cake and eat it too! But you have to step back for a minute and reflect for something, who are you? What kind of life do you want? Who do you want to be with? Why? Why not? I'm not saying tear yourself into parts but I'm really getting some of you ( I'm hearing "us" some of you dont separate yourselves from a group and see yourselves as individual persons in society and instead as a "unit" while is great, you are more than that) succumb yourselves to a lot of subcultures or reality just societal ideals of what you believe your life should look like. Take inspiration and make your own life worth living and stop looking at everybody else's as the "perfect guide book" to follow. There is no perfect anything and it's incredibly harmful to yourself and others to believe that there is, you dont know why people are the way they are or what happens behind closed doors. Follow your own path and make something beautiful out of you, even if it resembles somebody else's or looks completely different. Some of you need to come out the closet, haha, (once you feel safe and comfortable to do so of course). I'm been pulling in many directions in this pile so I'm going to cut it here. Know that you are okay and that the path you seek will find you but you need to let yourself realize that you're a unique individual with a mind of their own, let yourself have fun on the path that you walk on and choose if you want this one or not. You can get on an off of it as many times as you want and even choose a new one as many times as you like.

In short words, who is your fs? For some of you, you dont want a future spouse, you just want a life partner and a friend a you will find that, you will find the people who match you and fall into the right place. – For others of you, know that your future spouse is currently looking for you and they are exactly as you envision, if not better. The only thing about them is that you might have a couple traits off such as their nose or skin tone and perhaps ethnicity. They might have some "imperfections" as well that you might not think of, maybe they have braces and for some of you I'm hearing "knee surgery" so it's likely one of them has had an injury and either has a scar they're worried about or they have a slight subtle awkwardness to their walk. Dont worry so much about this, some of you overthink about these imperfections and for many of you I'm getting they're not even there and you're just anxious, I promise you'll be okay, haha. The universe knows your heart and it is good and full of love and that love will go into the right hands. You'll be alright, now go rest your pretty head, some of yall have been up all night 💤💤

Pile 3: 💜

• Wow. I cant even tap into your energy, I just tapped immediately into theirs. This personal is serious, this person means BUSINESS maybe even HAVE a business. They're not playing, they seriously want a commitment. I'm getting that they're a "hot mess" but they may just be very passionate. Much like pile 1 this personal may be black, if male brown skin, tall, tall, tall~ and very endearing gentle eyes. If she's a woman then by LORD she's gorgeous, likely darkskin, clear skin, lip gloss and possibly Christian, she takes her faith very seriously but as serious as she may be or come off she's actually so silly and goofy and just the sweetest soul to have around. She wont play about you. This won't apply to all of you but for some of you this person might be mixed and freckled or a red head, possibly a July Leo (or this might just be you) though this is for a few of you so take only what resonates. Your fs is very well read and well spoken, they're very educated although I'm getting for some of them they never went to college, for a few of you though they already have their masters or are on their way of getting it. They might have a similar background to you and or have the same political beliefs. Honestly what I'm getting from this is almost like a "background check" kind of vibe haha, they're like handing me a clip board and having me be your middle man and "vet" for them, I feel like you might be "hard to approach" or you dont just let ANYBODY in your energy like that, you dont just give anyone YOUR time of day and they're aware of that so they're not playing ANY games and getting straight to it and letting you know straight away why they are a great candidate for being your one and only partner. Although I am getting that they are kind of "flawed", not flawed as in bad but flawed as in, they come off as perfect but I believe you may somehow see through it, that while they are very confident and self sufficient and honestly, very, very, very remarkable, reliable and most of all loyal and dependable, they genuinely are a great catch..while you know all this you also know how they seem to be missing a piece of themselves, theres a loneliness in this and it's very gentle, very tender and childlike. They're very mature but ultimately, they just want love. They want love at it's rawest, purest form, they want to be infatuated with you, by you, lost in you, they want to crave you and admire you and receive at least fraction of that same love as well if possible. They're are a hopeless romantic and altho they may not show it at first I feel like you'll get that first wall to crumble without much effort, the rest of it will simply just dissolve the moment you're finally with them. This person wants something serious and if it applies for some of you even marriage and children or both. But even if you dont want this, it doesn't matter because they only see you and not a check list of things to cross out. They want to share something true with you and see how it blossoms into something beautiful.

This one has heavyyyyy 18+ messages in them, it was hard to hold back from typing them but for a lot of you before you go off doing the do with this person know that they are INTOXICATINGGGGG and soooooooo irresistible and they treat you sooooo so good so WRAP IT UP!!! BECAUSE THE TWO OF YOU HAVE VERY MATCHING ENERGIES AND ARE VERY VERY FERTILE SO IF YOURE NOT USING SOME KIND OF CONTRACEPTION (birth control, condom etc) YOU  W I L L  HAVE BABIES!!! 🍼👶🍼👶😭😭

Safe sex = Great sex, take care now✌

(I'm being so serious, wrap it up, some of yall dont listen, I get the heat of the moment might be fun or take you in but babies are a serious 18 year long commitment and if you're not ready for that please don't be hard headed and keep you and your partner safe. Thanks!! That's all bye! 💛💛💛)

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Okay, I am in love with all your Sebastian fics like a honeybee to pollen 🐝

Could we get some love for Ominis, too? 🥺 If your requests are open, I was thinking of something a bit packed with drama. Maybe during the early 1900's, Ominis was going to be married off to another pureblood woman as a last ditch effort to save the Gaunt family from utter disgrace. But Sebastian sent a frantic letter to MC (knowing she's always had feelings for him) and she rescues him because she's quite literally the only person who can counter the strength of the Gaunts.

If this is too action-packed, I understand 😅 And if you want to do something else with this, I'm totally onboard for it! Thank you so, so much!

Speak Now | Ominis Gaunt x Reader

CAN YOU HAVE SOME LOVE FOR OMINIS? UM, YES. OF COURSE. ALWAYS. SEND ME ALL THE OMINIS PROMPTS, I LOVE HIM DEARLY.

ANON, I HOPE YOU LOVE AND ENJOY <3 THANK YOU FOR YOUR MESSAGE!!!

Words: ~10,500

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Fluff, Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Pureblood Drama

The ink was smudged, the parchment worn, as if it had been handled too many times before finally being sent. The hurried scrawl was unmistakable—Sebastian Sallow had always written like he was running out of time.

You have to come back.

That was the first line, sharp and urgent, as though he was reaching across the distance to shake you into action. You swallowed hard as your eyes darted over the rest of the letter, scanning the words that followed.

They're forcing Ominis into a marriage. He won’t fight it. He thinks he has no choice. He’s going to let them do it. The Gaunts are desperate—this is their last chance to cling to whatever power they have left. If you don’t stop this, no one will.

You tilted your head back against the hotel room chair, exhaling slowly. This wasn’t what you had expected when you saw Sebastian’s weekly letter among the rest of your correspondence—his updates had always been the same.

Small anecdotes of life in England, sharp-witted remarks about Ministry work, and the occasional complaint about the monotony of it all. It had become a habit, these letters, a quiet tether to the life you left behind.

But this was different.

Sebastian had always known. Even when you tried to hide it, when you buried your feelings so deeply they felt like ghosts inside you—he knew you were irrevocably in love with Ominis.

He had known when you stood beside him through the worst of it, when the three of you were still inseparable. He had known when you were sixteen, when you looked at Ominis across the Great Hall with something aching in your eyes.

Sebastian wouldn’t have sent this if he wasn’t desperate.

The candlelight flickered against the crumpled parchment in your hands, the ink smudging beneath the heat of your fingers. Your chest felt tight, something old and aching clawing its way to the surface.

You had spent nearly a decade trying to carve Ominis Gaunt out of your heart.

You had moved away. You had thrown yourself into the world, traveling far from England, chasing adventure and knowledge, anything to dull the pain of loving someone who would never be yours. You had gone years without talking him. Not because he hadn’t written—but because you never wrote back.

It never worked.

Because love like that—love that had rooted itself so deeply, so completely, didn’t just disappear. It lingered in the spaces between your ribs, in the quiet moments before sleep, in the way your body still tensed at the mention of his name.

It had been unspoken between you, as silent as the spaces he left untouched when you stood too close, as damning as the way his hand would hover near yours but never close the distance.

And when you couldn’t take it anymore, you left.

You left because you thought, maybe, if you put an ocean between you, the wound of unrequited love would heal.

It never did.

And now Sebastian was asking you to do the very thing you had spent years convincing yourself you wouldn’t.

Go back. Save him.

The Gaunts were a dying family, their legacy rotting from the inside out. With every generation, their blood grew thinner, their wealth squandered, their name teetering on the edge of ruin. A marriage—an advantageous one—was their final desperate bid for survival. And Ominis, bound by duty, bound by the fear that he had nowhere else to go, was walking into the trap with his head bowed.

You let out a shaky breath and reached for the letter again, rereading the final lines, the ink smudged and urgent.

If you don’t stop this, no one will.

By tomorrow night, you would be back in England.

The night was cold, the London streets slick with rain, the gas lamps casting a dim glow against the cobblestones. You barely felt the chill as you climbed the stairs to Sebastian’s flat, your heartbeat pounding louder than your footsteps.

You didn’t hesitate. You raised your fist and banged on the door. Hard.

The music inside was loud enough to mask the first round of knocks, but you weren’t deterred. You hit the door again, more forcefully this time, your palm stinging from the impact.

There was movement inside, the shuffling of feet, the clinking of glass. You exhaled sharply, bracing yourself.

All you could hope was that he was alone.

Because if there was one thing Sebastian Sallow had never lacked, it was company.

It had been a constant presence in your lives—girls who were drawn to him like moths to a flame, girls who whispered behind their hands when they saw the two of you together, girls who looked at you with suspicion, jealousy, irritation.

It had never mattered that you weren’t interested. That your heart had belonged to Ominis so completely that there had never been room for anyone else. That Sebastian had never once looked at you that way.

It hadn’t stopped the tension, the quiet hostility, the accusations in whispered conversations you weren’t supposed to overhear.

You could only imagine how much worse it would be now if you were about to interrupt a lover’s evening.

The door swung open, and Sebastian stood before you, shirt half-unbuttoned, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

“Bloody hell.” His voice was hoarse, caught somewhere between shock and amusement. “You actually came.”

You huffed a laugh, tugging your bag higher up your shoulder. "Hello, Sebastian."

His expression shifted, something unreadable flickering across his face before settling into a lopsided grin. He stepped aside, motioning you in with an exaggerated sweep of his arm. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in before you catch a cold.”

You hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside, brushing past him. The flat was warm, filled with the scent of oak and whiskey, the remnants of dinner still on the table. A record played in the background, something slow and bluesy, and the room was dimly lit by the flickering glow of the fireplace.

You scanned the space quickly. No sign of anyone else.

Relief loosened the tension in your shoulders.

Sebastian caught it immediately, his smirk widening. “Were you worried I’d have company?”

You shot him a look.

He laughed, the sound low and knowing. “You used to hate that, didn’t you?”

You sighed, tugging off your gloves, your fingers stiff from the cold. “I didn’t hate it, Sebastian.”

“Oh, you did,” he said, dropping onto the sofa, his gaze sharp. “Every time a girl so much as looked at me twice, they’d take one look at you and think they had to fight for their lives.”

You rolled your eyes. “That wasn’t my fault. You’ve always had a type, and apparently, that type is ‘possessive.’”

Sebastian grinned into his glass. “It was entertaining, at least.”

You huffed out a breath, shaking your head, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

He studied you for a long moment, something flickering in his expression, before he let out a quiet huff of amusement.

“You look so much more… grown up.”

Your hands stilled where they had been undoing the buttons of your coat. You glanced up at him, unsure whether to feel flattered or vaguely insulted. “Should I be offended?”

Sebastian smirked. “No, no. Just—well, you know.” His gaze flicked over you with something bordering on appraisal. “Filled out a bit. More mature.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious.

He grinned before leaning back into the sofa, stretching his arms behind his head lazily. “Ominis is going to be very happy to see you.”

You groaned at the implication, rubbing your hands down your face. “Gross, Sebastian.”

He laughed, clearly pleased with himself. “What? It’s been a long time. He’s going to notice.”

“You just noticed, and that’s already too much.”

Sebastian only smirked, utterly unrepentant.

You shook your head, slipping your coat off and draping it over the back of a chair. The warmth of the flat was already sinking into your bones, easing the tension in your shoulders.

Sebastian watched you for a long moment, his teasing expression softening slightly.

“You really came,” he murmured, quieter now.

You met his gaze. “Of course I did.”

“I’ve tried to reason with him, tried to convince him he doesn’t need to do this but…” He hesitated, drumming his fingers against his knee. “I don’t think he realizes he has a choice. How much he still—”

He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”

“So,” you said, glancing at him, “do you have a guest room these days, or am I taking the couch?”

Sebastian’s lips quirked up at the corner. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

You arched a brow. “The kind who forgets to replace his bedsheets for months at a time.”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head as he stood, finishing off the last sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down. “You wound me,” he drawled, then he gestured for you to follow him down the narrow hallway.

As you trailed behind, he glanced over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Your accent’s changed,” he noted. “Sounds almost American now. Tragic, really.”

You scoffed. “It does not.”

“Oh, it does.” He mimicked a horrible, exaggerated version of an American drawl. “Next thing I know, you’ll be saying ‘ain’t’ and asking for a cup of coffee instead of tea.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been gone, not possessed.”

Sebastian chuckled, pushing open a door and stepping aside to let you enter.

The spare bedroom was small but comfortable—a proper bed, neatly made, a modest wardrobe, and a single oil lamp on the nightstand. It was uncharacteristically tidy for him, and you cast him a suspicious glance.

He smirked. “Surprised? I do have some manners, you know.”

“Debatable.”

He snorted but didn’t argue. Instead, he lingered in the doorway, watching you as you set your gloves on the nightstand, smoothing out the worn fabric between your fingers.

Then, without warning, he reached for you, wrapping you in a sudden, firm embrace.

You tensed for half a second before melting into it, your hands pressing into the worn fabric of his shirt as you buried your face against his shoulder. He smelled like whiskey, firewood, and something unmistakably Sebastian—familiar, grounding.

“Missed you, you know,” he murmured, voice quieter now, rougher around the edges. “I wish I’d threatened Ominis’s marriage sooner. Would’ve saved me years of boredom having you around again.”

You let out a breathless laugh against his shoulder even as your chest ached.

You had been gone for so long, chasing something you could never quite outrun. And yet, standing here, in the warmth of Sebastian’s flat, his arms still loosely around you—

It felt like a piece of you had finally come home.

You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat, blinking quickly. “Well,” you said, clearing your throat, “we’ll have to make up for lost time, then.”

Sebastian grinned, giving your shoulder a final squeeze before stepping back. “Oh, we will,” he promised. “Starting tomorrow.”

Your stomach twisted at the reminder.

"What's the plan for tomorrow, exactly?"

Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, the flickering lamplight casting shadows across his face. He tilted his head slightly, considering your question.

“Well, obviously, I have a wedding invitation,” he said, his smirk sharp and knowing. “And seeing as you didn’t exactly RSVP, you’ll be my plus-one.”

You sighed, rubbing your hands together. “Okay... but when we get there, then what?"

Sebastian’s smirk faded, replaced with something more serious. “We’ll try to get to him before the ceremony starts,” he said. “Pull him aside, talk some sense into him. If we can convince him to walk away without causing a scene, that would be ideal.”

You exhaled slowly. “And if we do have to cause a scene?”

Sebastian lifted a brow, a familiar glint of mischief in his gaze. “Well, you did bring all that dramatic ancient magic of yours back with you, didn’t you?”

You shot him a dry look. “Yes, Sebastian, I plan to hex an entire wedding party in broad daylight.”

“Now that would be entertaining,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “You think he’ll listen?”

Sebastian hesitated, his fingers tapping idly against the doorframe. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve tried, but you know how he is. Stubborn as ever. He thinks this is the only way. Thinks he has no other choice.”

Your stomach twisted.

"And you think, somehow, I'm going to change his mind? We haven't spoken in, what, eight years? He probably—”

Sebastian cut you off with a pointed look. "Exactly. You haven't spoken in years. Which means you showing up? That'll shake him more than anything I could ever say."

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. "Or it'll just piss him off."

Sebastian shrugged, unbothered. "That works too. As long as it gets him to actually feel something about this instead of just rolling over and letting his family dictate his life again."

Your jaw tightened. "You think he hasn't felt anything about this?"

Sebastian tilted his head. "I think he's spent so long convincing himself he doesn’t have a choice that he's stopped considering the alternative. And I think," he said, crossing his arms, "that if there's anyone who can remind him of what he wants instead of what he owes, it's you."

The words struck deeper than you wanted them to.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, gripping the edge of the bed as if grounding yourself. "If he ever wanted me," you said, quieter this time, "it was never enough."

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You always were terrible at seeing what was right in front of you."

You frowned, but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. He pushed off the doorframe, turning toward the hall. "Get some sleep," he said over his shoulder. "Big day tomorrow. You might have to throw yourself in front of an altar."

You snorted. "Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that."

Sebastian grinned. "If it does, at least try to make it entertaining. Dramatic declarations, an I object! shouted for the ages." He paused, then waggled his brows. "Preferably while wearing something scandalous."

You rolled your eyes. "Goodnight, Sebastian."

"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," he teased, retreating down the hallway.

You listened to his footsteps fade, staring at the worn wooden floor beneath you.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, you would face Ominis again.

Sebastian was already ready. Of course he was.

You could hear him outside the bathroom, pacing the hallway, his dress shoes clicking impatiently against the wooden floor. He’d already knocked twice, and now he was resorting to pestering you from the other side of the door.

"Are you ready yet?" His voice was exasperated. "Honestly, if I'd known you'd take this long, I would've given you a two-hour head start."

You stuck a pin in your hair and rolled your eyes. "It's been thirty minutes, Sebastian. You’re acting like I've been in here for days."

“Might as well have been,” came Sebastian’s voice from the other side, muffled but unmistakably exasperated. “We’re going to a wedding, not a coronation.”

You sighed, adjusting the way your dress fit over your shoulders, tugging at the fabric as if it would somehow settle your nerves.

The truth was, you were taking longer than usual.

But could he blame you? You hadn’t seen Ominis in nearly eight years.

And sure—he couldn’t see you, exactly, but his wand could.

You sighed, stepping back from the mirror and smoothing your skirts. You had settled on something elegant, something proper, something that would make it impossible for the Gaunts to ignore you when you walked through their doors.

Sebastian, of course, was dressed for trouble. A sharp three-piece suit, his tie just slightly loosened, his hair combed back but still holding that casual devil-may-care disarray that somehow made him look even more like a menace.

Another impatient knock. “The wedding starts in an hour, by the way.”

You shot a glare at the door, even though he couldn’t see it, then took one last look in the mirror before before finally stepping out.

Sebastian was mid-complaint when his eyes landed on you.

His mouth clicked shut.

He blinked.

And then, after a moment, let out a low whistle.

“Well, well,” he said, stepping back slightly to take you in. “You do clean up nice.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him. “Don’t sound so shocked.”

He grinned. “I’m just impressed. You put me through an agonizing wait, but I suppose it was worth it.” His gaze flicked over you again, more appraising now. “Ominis is going to—”

You shot him a warning look before he could finish the sentence.

Sebastian just smirked. “Right, right. Gross.”

He, mercifully, didn’t push the subject further as the two of you stepped out onto the quiet London street. The air was crisp, the overcast sky hinting at rain, and the city was already awake—carts rolling by, men in suits tipping their hats as they passed, women hurrying along with baskets in hand.

A sleek, enchanted carriage waited at the curb, black lacquer gleaming under the dim morning light. Sebastian, always the gentleman when it suited him, opened the door and gestured dramatically.

“After you, my lady,” he quipped, voice dripping with amusement.

You shot him a flat look but climbed in nonetheless. The interior was comfortable, the seats upholstered in deep blue fabric, smelling faintly of polished wood . Sebastian followed, settling in across from you as the carriage took off with a jolt.

The ride started in silence, the rhythmic clatter of hooves filling the space between you. You stared out the window, watching London give way to quieter roads, your stomach twisting itself into knots.

Sebastian stretched out, lounging like this was nothing more than a casual social call. “You’re awfully quiet.”

You exhaled, fingers drumming against your knee. “I’m trying not to think about the fact that I might be making a mistake.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Oh, please. As if this could even qualify as a mistake.”

You shot him a sharp look. “This isn’t a joke, Sebastian.”

His smirk softened, just slightly. “I know,” he admitted, leaning forward, bracing his forearms against his knees. “But listen to me—there is no version of this where Ominis doesn’t want to see you.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t know that.”

Sebastian’s gaze was unwavering. “I do.”

You wanted to argue, wanted to tell him he was wrong, that Ominis had probably long since buried whatever he had once felt for you—if he had ever felt anything at all.

But you couldn’t ignore the gnawing in your chest, the way a tiny, fragile part of you wanted desperately to believe Sebastian was right.

The carriage slowed. Your breath caught.

Sebastian straightened, adjusting his jacket. “Showtime.”

The Gaunt estate was exactly as you remembered it from your Hogwarts days—cold, imposing, and entirely too suffocating. The sprawling grounds were still vast, stretching endlessly in every direction, but there was something unmistakably wilted about them now. The hedges lining the drive had grown wild at the edges, the once-pristine cobblestone path cracked in places, and the grand iron gates—tall and menacing—creaked on their hinges as they shut behind your carriage.

The manor itself was much the same: gray stone, towering spires, an air of superiority that had always felt like a performance rather than a truth. But even from this distance, you could tell that the years had not been kind to it.

The roof, once gleaming with meticulously maintained slate tiles, had dark patches of discoloration. Ivy crept aggressively up the eastern wing, unchecked, wrapping around balconies and windows as if slowly strangling the place. The grand windows that had once shimmered with warm candlelight now looked dimmer, some of them cracked, their leaded glass slightly warped with age.

Neglect.

That’s what this was. The decay wasn’t extreme—not yet—but it was there, creeping at the edges, slowly taking hold.

And you knew why.

Ominis’s father.

The man had been wretched, and his penchant for excess was nothing new. Even back when you were all still in school, it had been whispered that the Gaunts' fortune was a shadow of what it had once been—that their power was more name than substance now.

And now, with his father dead and Ominis as the heir, it seemed evident that the cracks in the foundation had begun to spread.

Sebastian let out a low whistle beside you. “Charming as ever.”

You exhaled, willing your nerves to settle as the carriage rolled to a stop before the grand entrance.

Footmen were stationed by the double doors, their posture rigid, their expressions carefully blank. A few well-dressed guests were filtering into the manor, their whispers hushed but pointed, eyes flickering toward your carriage with interest.

This was it.

You were here.

And somewhere inside that crumbling, gilded ruin was Ominis—waiting for a future he had resigned himself to.

Sebastian stepped out first, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket before turning to offer you a hand. You ignored it, stepping down on your own, too preoccupied with the steady thudding of your heart against your ribs.

As you approached the grand entrance, one of the footmen—rigid, humorless, and probably handpicked for his ability to look as unwelcoming as possible—stepped forward, barring your way with a polite but firm, “Name?”

Sebastian handed over his invitation, flashing a smirk that bordered on arrogance. “Sebastian Sallow,” he said smoothly. “And my lovely plus-one, of course.”

The footman scanned the invitation with a blank expression, then flicked his eyes toward you. His lips pressed together.

“I’m afraid there is no ‘plus-one’ listed, sir.”

Sebastian blinked. “Pardon?”

The footman held out the invitation again. “Your name is on the list, Mr. Sallow, but there is no mention of a guest.”

Sebastian made a show of taking the paper back, squinting at it dramatically. “Oh, what an incredible oversight,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Truly, a devastating clerical error. You should fire whoever manages this list.”

The footman’s mouth twitched—somewhere between unimpressed and mildly annoyed. “Sir, I was given specific instructions. No additional guests who are not accounted for.”

Sebastian threw up his hands. “I’m accounting for her right now—”

“Sebastian,” you muttered under your breath, nudging his arm in warning.

He huffed. “This is absurd. What do you think she’s here for? To steal the centerpieces? I assure you, my guest is—”

The footman remained firm. “If her name is not on the list, she does not enter.”

Your fingers curled into fists. You should have seen this coming. Of course the Gaunts would keep the guest list strictly controlled—this wasn’t just any wedding, it was their last-ditch attempt to save face. The idea that a surprise guest might slip through the cracks was laughable.

Sebastian was still arguing when you finally grabbed his sleeve and yanked him aside.

He frowned at you. “What? I was wearing them down.”

“No, you were irritating them,” you muttered, glancing back at the guards. “Look, you have an invitation. You can get inside.”

He crossed his arms. “And what, exactly, are you going to do? Sit on the curb and wait?”

“No.” You lowered your voice. “I’ll figure something out. But you need to get to Ominis now.”

Sebastian hesitated, his brow furrowing. “You sure?”

You exhaled, glancing back toward the doors. “We don’t have time to waste. Find him. Get him alone. Make him listen. If that doesn't work... we'll... we'll think of something.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw, clearly not thrilled at the idea of leaving you behind. But after a moment, he exhaled sharply.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if you’re not inside within the next fifteen minutes, I will cause a scene.”

You smirked despite yourself. “You always cause a scene.”

He grinned. “Yes, but this time, I’ll make it big.”

With that, he turned, flashing the footman an exaggeratedly smug smile before striding through the doors and disappearing into the estate.

You, meanwhile, lingered near the entrance, watching the footmen out of the corner of your eye. As much as you hated the idea of waiting out here while Sebastian got to Ominis, you knew forcing your way in wasn’t an option.

So you waited.

The footmen barely glanced at you once they assumed you were no longer their problem. Instead, they refocused on their duties—checking invitations, directing guests, speaking in hushed tones with the occasional arrival. It only took a moment for the perfect opportunity to present itself.

A carriage pulled up, the sound of clattering hooves drawing the footmen’s attention just long enough for you to slip away from the entrance.

You kept your posture casual, strolling toward the side of the estate as if you belonged there

The gardens sprawled around the estate in twisting hedges and overgrown flower beds, a shadow of their former grandeur. You maneuvered quickly, ducking beneath the trellis of a neglected rose arch, its petals long wilted, its thorns creeping along rusted iron.

Beyond the hedges, the ceremony setup came into view.

Rows of white chairs arranged in perfect symmetry. A raised platform at the far end, decorated with elegant but impersonal arrangements of deep red roses and ivy. Guests milled about in clusters, dressed in their pure-blood finery, the air thick with murmured conversations and thinly veiled judgments.

You swept your gaze over the fence, searching for a break in the iron, a space for you to slip through without your name on that stupid list.

Nothing.

You kept moving.

The gardens stretched endlessly around you, a maze of twisting paths and forgotten alcoves, the scent of damp earth and decaying petals clung to your senses as you pressed on, scanning every wrought-iron fence post, every creeping vine for a weakness in the estate’s meticulous defenses.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your skirts, your mind racing, cycling through every possible version of what you would say when you saw Ominis again.

How were you even going to begin? Would you demand? Beg? Reason? Would you tell him he was making a mistake, that this wasn’t the only option? Would you say it plainly, admit that you had spent years running from the truth that you loved him, and you always had? That you couldn’t stand the thought of watching him tie himself to someone who would never understand him the way you did?

Suddenly, your skirts snagged against the thick brambles of a particularly dense bush, yanking you to an abrupt stop.

You hissed in frustration, twisting to untangle the fabric, cursing under your breath as you fought with the thorny branches.

Then—

Music.

You froze. Your hands clenched in the fabric of your dress, your breath catching in your throat.

A slow, solemn melody drifted through the air, carried by an unseen quartet.

Shit. Shit. The ceremony is starting.

Your pulse pounded. This wasn’t just some idea anymore, wasn’t just a plan scribbled onto parchment in Sebastian’s messy handwriting.

This was happening.

This was Ominis’s wedding.

Your heart was in your throat.

You tore your skirt free from the brambles, stumbling forward, breath coming faster as you scanned desperately for a way through.

If you didn’t get inside now—

A hand clamped down around your upper arm, yanking you backward with enough force to make you stumble. A startled gasp escaped your lips as you twisted in place, trying to wrench yourself free, but the grip was unrelenting.

The footman was tall, broad, and utterly impassive, his expression betraying not even a flicker of emotion.

"Ma'am, you are trespassing on private property, I must insist—"

“No, wait—” you gasped, trying again, shoving at his arm, but the man barely even shifted. “I just need a moment—I’m not here to—”

“The wedding is invitation-only,” the footman said, unbothered, already dragging you back toward the entrance. “Guests are to remain in designated areas. If you do not have proper clearance—”

“I just need to talk to him!” you nearly shouted, struggling as the ceremony music continued to drift through the garden, the slow, deliberate swell of strings making your stomach twist violently.

Ominis was at the front of that ceremony right now, waiting, standing still and poised while guests murmured and the woman he was supposed to marry prepared to walk down the aisle.

It was real. It was happening. And you were out here, being dragged away, powerless to stop it.

A sickening ache took root in your chest, spreading through your ribs, pressing against your lungs like a vice. Your breath hitched, sharp and unsteady.

You tried everything.

You dug your heels in, but the footman pulled you along effortlessly.

You tried bargaining. “Please, just listen—Ominis Gaunt—he knows me, we were close once, I need to see him—”

It didn’t matter.

He wasn’t listening.

Of course he wasn’t.

The Gaunts controlled their world too carefully to let last-minute intrusions disrupt them. Even now, at the end of their dynasty, they still clung to their crumbling influence, still made sure that everything went exactly as planned.

You just needed one chance—one opening to slip away, to disappear, to reach Ominis before it was too late—

Your fingers twitched toward the hidden pocket in your skirts, brushing against the cool handle of your wand.

It was reckless, maybe even stupid, but you didn’t care.

But then, another hand seized your wrist.

Your breath hitched violently as a second footman stepped forward, his grip firm, unyielding.

“Stop resisting,” he ordered, voice impassive.

“No—please—” you gasped, voice breaking.

The music swelled, the notes stretching out like a death knell in your ears, wrapping around your ribs like a vice.

You could see it now. Too vividly.

Ominis.

Ominis, sitting at the head of a long, extravagant dining table, a woman—his wife, a woman you did not know, would never know—beside him, her hand resting lightly on his wrist as they spoke in hushed tones.

Ominis, dancing with her at some pure-blood gala, his hand on her waist, his voice low in conversation.

Ominis at holidays, wathcing his children—laughing as they tore open gifts wrapped in crisp gold and silver paper.

Ominis in the soft quiet of night, pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple, his hands gentle as they cradled her face.

A sharp, ragged breath tore from your throat, your chest constricting painfully, your lungs refusing to expand properly.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

You fought harder, twisting violently, desperation turning into something sharp and frantic.

"Please, you don’t understand,” you gasped, struggling, thrashing, but it was useless. "Please—I just need a moment—I have to—"

They kept dragging you back to the front drive, further and further away from the ceremony, from him, from the one moment you had to stop this. Your lungs burned, your vision blurred at the edges, and a hot, unbearable pressure rose in your throat—desperation curling tight, suffocating.

Tears burned behind your eyes, stinging, threatening to fall.

And then—

A sudden crack. A flash of red light. The grip on your arms vanished.

You collapsed to your knees, barely registering the sharp sting of gravel biting into your palms. Your chest heaved, ragged and uneven, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins as the world tilted around you.

The footmen hit the ground hard, unmoving.

And when you looked up—

Sebastian stood at the threshold of the grand doors, wand raised.

“Looks like I got here just in time,” he mused, voice light, almost lazy, as if he hadn’t just knocked out two Gaunt guards in broad daylight.

You sucked in a shaky, gasping breath, arms trembling as you pushed yourself upright. The fight had drained you—left you raw, exposed.

Sebastian’s smirk faltered. His gaze flickered over you, taking in the state of you—your wild hair, your disheveled dress, the way you struggled to breathe past the sheer panic still lodged in your chest.

His expression hardened. He crossed the distance between you in three long strides, dropping to a knee before you, hand bracing against your shoulder to steady you.

“Hey,” he said, lower now, gentler. “You’re alright.”

You let out a shaking breath, still staring at the unconscious footmen, mind still reeling. “I wasn’t going to make it,” you whispered, voice hoarse, raw from the struggle.

Sebastian squeezed your shoulder. “Yeah, well.” He exhaled, straightening. “Luckily, I’ve got a terrible habit of causing trouble at exactly the right moment.”

You let out a breathless, exhausted laugh.

Sebastian stood, then offered you his hand. “Come on.” His tone shifted, sharpening with urgency. “We need to move. They’ll wake up soon.”

You took it, fingers gripping his tight as he pulled you to your feet.

Your legs were weak, but there was no more time for fear, no more time for second-guessing.

Sebastian held your gaze.

“Are you ready for this?”

Ominis was still waiting.

And you—you were still here.

You nodded.

Sebastian grinned. “Alright, then.”

And with that, you ran.

The Gaunt manor was a maze of dark corridors and endless rooms, its sheer size and suffocating grandeur turning your desperate rush into something far more frustrating.

Even with Sebastian practically dragging you forward, navigating the twisting hallways and sharp turns, it felt like time was slipping through your fingers.

Your pulse thundered. Your legs burned. Your breath came short and uneven as you sprinted your, skirts gathered in your hands.

Footsteps echoed in the halls behind you—shouts, movement. They were coming for you.

A left turn, another hallway, a sharp sprint down the main stairwell, and then finally—

Sebastian shoved open the back door, and you stumbled into the gardens.

The sudden burst of open air nearly stole your breath away. Your lungs ached, your body trembling from the exertion. And then—

You heard the officiant speaking.

Your head snapped toward the ceremony, your entire body freezing in place. It was already happening.

Rows of pure-blooded guests sat in eerie silence, their attention locked on the figures standing at the altar.

You could hear the officiant now, his voice steady, final.

"If there is anyone present who has just cause why these two should not be joined in marriage, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Everything in you screamed. Your vision tunneled, and before you could even think—

"I OBJECT!"

The words rang loud, impossible to ignore, echoing across the ceremony as if they had weight, as if they had been carved into stone.

The officiant froze mid-sentence, his mouth still parted, the words he had been about to speak dying on his lips.

And then, the ripple began.

Gasps. Dozens of them. Whispers—hushed, sharp murmurs spreading through the crowd like wildfire, rustling through silk gowns and stiffly pressed suits. Heads turned sharply in your direction, eyes wide, mouths forming quiet exclamations of scandal and disbelief.

The woman beside Ominis—his bride—let out a small, startled gasp, the delicate bouquet in her hands trembling slightly. She turned her head toward him, confusion flickering across her face, but he didn’t move to reassure her.

Sebastian let out a sharp, triumphant breath behind you. "Well. That got their attention."

But you couldn’t answer. Your heart was going to burst.

You could feel it—pounding, breaking, swelling, shattering all at once, an unbearable rush of emotion so raw that it nearly brought you to your knees.

Because he was standing right there.

Ominis.

Older. More composed, more refined, dressed in a suit that fit him perfectly, every line and seam made for him. But it was still him—the boy you had once loved.

The boy you still loved.

Your vision blurred, and for a horrible, dizzying moment, you thought you might actually cry.

But your feet were moving now.

You barely realized it—one step, then another, then another, until you were walking, carrying yourself down the aisle toward him, your breath still coming too fast, too uneven from the struggle, your pulse roaring in your ears.

Your skirts were torn at the edges, your hair mussed from running, from fighting, from forcing your way through every obstacle that had tried to keep you away from him.

The whispers grew louder, the tension in the air becoming so thick, so suffocating, but you didn’t care.

The words fell from your lips, breathless, desperate, trembling with everything you had kept buried for far too long.

"You can't marry her, Ominis."

For a moment, the world felt frozen, as if the sheer weight of your presence—your defiance—had brought everything to a grinding halt.

The officiant stiffened, his mouth slightly parted in shock. The bride inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the bouquet, knuckles turning pale against the soft petals. The guests—rows upon rows of pure-blooded aristocrats—stared at you, their expressions ranging from horrified to scandalized to morbidly fascinated.

But none of it mattered.

Because Ominis finally turned.

His head lifted, his face shifting just enough for you to see him fully, and the breath nearly left your lungs entirely.

He was beautiful in the way only Ominis had ever been—his features a careful composition of sharp cheekbones, a proud jawline, plush pink lips pressed into a firm, unreadable line.

But God, he had grown even more handsome.

Time had sculpted him into something even more unattainable, something even more devastatingly perfect.

His voice, measured and steady, cut through the stunned silence.

"...And why is that?"

You felt it before you understood it—the way his voice reached inside you and wrapped around something raw, something fragile, something you thought you had buried beneath years of distance and silence.

It was deeper than you remembered. Richer. Steadier.

And for a terrible second, you couldn’t speak. You had imagined this moment a hundred different ways. You had dreamed of it, dreaded it, rehearsed what you would say if you ever saw him again.

But none of those versions had prepared you for this.

You swallowed hard, blinking against the burn in your eyes. Your fingers curled into your ruined skirts, grounding yourself, forcing breath back into your lungs.

"Because you don’t love her," you said, voice shaking yet resolute. "And she doesn’t love you."

The bride’s sharp inhale was barely audible beneath the collective gasp that rippled through the guests.

"You’re doing this because you think you have to," you continued. "Because you think there’s no other way. But that isn’t true, Ominis. It’s never been true."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't speak.

Your next words came softer, but they still broke through the air like a spell cast in desperation.

"Tell me you want this. Tell me this is what you really want, Ominis, and I’ll leave."

You took another step forward, heart hammering so hard it felt like it was trying to tear itself free from your chest.

The guests were silent now, barely breathing, watching as if they had stumbled into something far too intimate, far too raw to be witnessing.

But you didn’t care. You kept going.

"But if you don’t, if there's—" You swallowed, huffed a small, shaky breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, because god, you were unraveling. "—if there’s any part of you that doesn’t want this—any part at all—then don’t do it. Please. Because I—" You hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment bear down on you, crushing, suffocating. "Because I love you, Ominis."

A ripple went through the crowd—a gasp, a scandalized whisper, a rustling of fabric as guests turned to each other in shock.

The bride was rigid, her knuckles white against the bouquet, her lips pressed into a tight, thin line. But it was her eyes that gave her away—wide, wild, brimming with something between fury and panic.

"Ominis," she said sharply, her voice a blade cutting through the heavy silence. "Say something."

But he didn’t.

Ominis stood motionless, carved from something finer than marble, yet just as unyielding. His lips parted, breath slow and uneven, as though you had reached inside him and shaken something loose, something buried too deep to name. His jaw tightened, the muscle feathering beneath pale skin, his throat working around a swallow he never quite finished.

The silence that followed was unbearable.

It stretched and stretched, yawning wide like the space between stars, like the distance you had spent years putting between you. It pressed against your ribs, against your throat, thick and suffocating, a weight that crushed the breath from your lungs.

You had been so sure—so certain—that he would say something, do something.

But he only stood there. Still. Silent. Unmoving.

And as the seconds bled into each other, as the realization began to sink its cruel, merciless teeth into you, the first seed of doubt took root.

This reckless, desperate thing you had done—it had been a mistake. A cruel, foolish, selfish mistake. You had laid yourself bare before him, only to be met with silence. Nothing more than a last, flailing act of desperation, a pathetic display that only proved how far you had fallen.

Sebastian shifted behind you, and for a single, awful moment, you thought—

Maybe he’s going to drag me away.

Maybe he’ll step in, cut your losses, put an end to this, spare you from any further disgrace.

Maybe this was your only way out.

Maybe it was time to let go.

You swallowed against the burn in your throat, against the ache blooming in your chest. Your vision blurred at the edges, and for the first time, you truly considered turning around.

Walking away. Leaving Ominis to the life he'd been bred to live.

But then Ominis exhaled, a breath so sharp, so unsteady, it sliced through the silence like the edge of a knife.

And then, he turned.

Not just his head. Not just the subtle tilt of his face in acknowledgment.

All of him.

His entire frame shifted, shoulders squaring, spine straightening as he turned fully toward you, facing you where you stood trembling in the middle of the aisle.

The tension in the room snapped taut, the atmosphere shifting as if the very foundation of this moment had cracked beneath the weight of his movement.

A murmur rippled through the crowd, hushed and urgent, the kind of sound that signaled the birth of a scandal, the sort of thing that would be whispered about behind gloved hands for years to come.

The bride sucked in a sharp breath, her bouquet shaking in her grip. “Ominis—”

But he wasn’t listening.

His hand twitched at his side.

And then, he stepped forward.

Just one step at first, slow and deliberate.

Then another.

And another.

The bride’s composure cracked.

“Ominis,” she snapped, her voice laced with something sharp. “What do you think you’re doing?”

But he didn’t stop.

He didn’t even hesitate.

Your chest felt too tight, too full, as if your own ribs were locking around your heart, trying to keep it from breaking, from believing what was happening.

Because Ominis was walking toward you. Confidently. Purposefully.

As if there had never been any other choice but this. As if, after years of silence, of distance, of unspoken things left to rot in the past, there had only ever been one path left to take.

The whispers rose to a fever pitch, scandalized and sharp, shocked and disbelieving. A frenzied murmur of names and questions and outrage, but all you could hear were his footsteps against the stone, each one measured, steady, unshakable.

And all you could see was him.

Tall and lean, just as he had always been, the crisp lines of his suit, the effortless precision of his movements, the way his shoulders squared with a quiet, unshakable confidence—it was Ominis, but not the boy you had once known.

He was a man now.

And he was—he was right in front of you. So close you could see the subtle rise and fall of his chest, could hear the slow, deliberate exhale that left his lips as he seemed to gather himself.

Your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out everything but the sound of your own breath, the silent demand in your mind that you memorize this, remember this, because no matter what happened next, this moment would live inside you forever.

Then—he moved.

Slowly, deliberately, as if the weight of this moment threatened to crush him as much as it did you.

His fingers brushed against yours first, barely a touch, a whisper of warmth that sent a shudder through your spine. And then, with a quiet, unsteady inhale, he took your hand fully, his grip firm but trembling, as though he were afraid that if he didn’t hold on now, he might never get the chance again.

A gasp rippled through the crowd, a sharp intake of breath from dozens of watching eyes, but it barely registered. The garden, the wedding, the expectant horror of pure-blooded society—all of it had ceased to exist.

It was just him.

And then, finally, he spoke. Soft, low—only for you.

"You came back."

His voice—God, his voice.

Your throat tightened, your fingers tightening instinctively around his.

"Of course I did."

Ominis exhaled, a breathless, almost disbelieving sound—half a laugh, half a shudder. As if he couldn't quite grasp that this was real, that you were here. Then—slowly, reverently—he lifted his free hand, his fingers trembling ever so slightly before they found your cheek.

You barely had time to react before a sharp, furious voice cut through the air.

"Ominis!"

The bride.

Her voice rose, high and shrill, cracking under the sheer force of her rage. "Have you lost your mind?"

The ceremony was in chaos now—guests murmuring, shifting, watching with wide, horrified eyes. The officiant was pale, his hands clasped together as if unsure whether to proceed or flee. Somewhere in the back, someone stifled a horrified gasp.

But Ominis didn’t turn. Didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.

His palm remained cradling your cheek, his thumb still smoothing gentle, unconscious strokes against your skin. His head tilted just slightly, his breath still uneven, as if the world outside of you had ceased to exist entirely.

"Tell me," he said, voice low and steady, a quiet thing made of certainty and desperation all at once. "Tell me it's true," Ominis whispered, barely more than breath. "Tell me you meant it."

Your pulse roared in your ears, your breath shuddering past your lips.

"You said you love me." His voice dipped lower, raw and unguarded, something fragile threatening to break beneath the weight of it. "Was it true?"

And oh—he needed this.

You could feel it in the way his fingers curled slightly against your skin, in the way his voice wavered at the edges, in the way he stayed, unshaken, unmovable, even as his world collapsed around him.

Your throat tightened. Your heart ached. And for the first time in years, you didn’t hesitate.

You lifted a hand, pressing it over his where it still cupped your cheek.

"I've always loved you, Ominis," you said, voice steady, unshakable.

His breath hitched—his fingers tensed against your skin. His grip on your hand faltered for the smallest second, as though the weight of it, the truth of it, had knocked the air from his lungs.

And then Ominis laughed, soft and disbelieving, shaky and full of something like wonder, like relief, like everything.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t polite. It wasn’t chaste. It wasn’t the careful, reserved gesture of a man bred for propriety.

It was a collision, a reckoning, years of longing and regret and unspoken words crashing together in one devastating, breathtaking moment.

Ominis kissed you like a drowning man breaking the surface, like you were the only thing tethering him to this earth, like he had spent years starving for something he had convinced himself he would never taste again.

His hands, usually so composed, were firm, desperate—one cradling your jaw as if to hold you exactly where he needed you, the other splaying against the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close.

And you melted.

The world around you erupted.

The bride screamed.

A high, piercing sound, raw with rage, with betrayal, with pure, unhinged fury.

Another voice—sharper, colder—cut through the chaos, filled with absolute horror. His mother.

"Ominis Gaunt, what in Merlin’s name do you think you are doing?!"

Pandemonium.

Gasps, shouts, the rustling of expensive fabric as guests stood, as scandalized pure-blooded aristocrats lost all sense of composure. The officiant took a stumbling step back, as if physically recoiling from the disaster unraveling before him. Somewhere, a woman swooned, and a man cursed under his breath.

It was chaos.

But you didn’t care. Because Ominis didn’t care.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t falter. If anything, the noise, the outrage, the sheer catastrophe unfolding around you only made him hold you tighter. Only made him deepen the kiss, parting his lips against yours in a way that made your knees buckle, that sent your fingers flying to clutch at the lapels of his suit, holding on to him for dear life.

He tasted like desperation and devotion, like every word he had never spoken, like every moment that had led to this one, like forever.

And all around you, the world was collapsing, and you could hear it—

Movement.

The rustling of fabric, hurried, frantic. The clambering of shoes against stone. Someone—his mother, the bride, maybe both—running toward you.

A furious, sharp inhale. A gasp of outrage.

And then—

A hand.

Firm, unrelenting, gripping your shoulder.

Before you could even react, before you could turn to see who had reached for you, there was a sharp pull, and the universe twisted, folding in on itself, pulling you through space, through time, through everything.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

You were somewhere else.

It took a second for your mind to catch up, to register your surroundings. The scent of damp earth. The distant hum of insects. The soft rustle of trees swaying in the wind.

Feldcroft.

And Sebastian was there, standing just a few feet away, arms crossed, an entirely too pleased expression stretched across his face.

“Well," He exhaled, shaking his head. "That was dramatic.”

You blinked, dazed.

Ominis's hands were still on you—one at your waist, fingers firm and unyielding, the other curled at the back of your neck. His chest rose and fell against yours, his breath still uneven, still chasing the moment, still catching up to everything that had just happened.

Sebastian let out a low whistle, looking between the two of you with the kind of slow-spreading smirk that made your stomach drop. He was enjoying this.

“Merlin,” he mused, rocking back on his heels. “I knew you had it in you, mate, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Ominis exhaled, sharp and slow, the ghost of disbelief still clinging to the breath. He had done it. He had walked away from everything—his family’s expectations, his carefully arranged future, the life he had been forced into.

All for you.

The realization struck like lightning, burning through your veins, stealing the breath from your lungs.

His mother was going to kill him. And the bride—dear god—

Ominis had just dismantled years of pure-blood tradition in the span of a single moment, and the fallout would be absolute.

But as his grip on you tightened—just barely, just enough to remind you that he was here—you realized something else.

He didn’t regret it. Not for a second.

He took a slow, steadying breath, then finally—finally—turned his head in Sebastian’s direction.

"I suppose you're expecting me to thank you for that little apparition stunt," he said, his voice still a little rough at the edges.

Sebastian’s grin widened. "I’d prefer a heartfelt speech about how I saved your arse, but I’ll settle for the knowledge that I just witnessed one of the greatest pure-blood scandals in recent history.”

Ominis scoffed—something that might have been amusement, might have been exasperation.

And then he turned back to you.

The shift was immediate. The teasing, the aftermath, the lingering humor between friends—all of it faded, leaving only the space between you, heavy with everything that had just unraveled.

Ominis still hadn’t let go.

His fingers twitched against your waist. His other hand, still resting at the nape of your neck, curled slightly, as if reacquainting itself with the shape of you. His head tilted, his lips parting just slightly, as though there were words on the edge of them, waiting, hesitating.

And you knew.

You knew what he was thinking.

What now?

You had shattered his carefully built world in a matter of minutes. He had destroyed everything that had been set in stone for him. And now, here you both stood, at the precipice of something entirely new, something undefined, something terrifying and exhilarating and real.

Sebastian, sensing the shift, sighed dramatically. “Right, well, I can see I’m no longer needed here.” He turned on his heel, taking a few steps toward the cottage before pausing. “Just don’t shag in my childhood home, yeah? I’d really rather not have to burn it down.”

Ominis didn’t even dignify that with a response.

Sebastian laughed under his breath, gave you a knowing look, then disappeared down the path, whistling as he went.

And then, it was just the two of you.

Alone.

Ominis let out a long, slow breath.

Eight years.

Eight years since he last saw you. Since the moment he convinced himself he’d never see you again. Since you disappeared from his life with nothing but silence left in your wake.

His grip tightened, fingers curling ever so slightly against you, as if he was afraid you might slip away again.

“You never wrote me back,” he said, voice quieter now, roughened at the edges. “Not once.”

You swallowed, throat tightening, a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you. “Ominis—”

“No,” he cut you off, a sharp exhale betraying the control he was desperately clinging to. “No, let me—” He broke off, shaking his head, voice dropping lower. “Let me say this before I lose my nerve.”

You nodded, pulse thrumming in your ears, watching as his expression twisted with something raw, something fragile.

“I wrote you,” he continued, softer now. “I wrote you for years. And I know you wrote to the others. Sebastian, Imelda, even Garreth, for Merlin’s sake. But never me.” His fingers flexed at your waist. “Why?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had braced for this. You had known, even in the haze of everything that had just unraveled, that this moment would come.

You shut your eyes for a brief second, gathering yourself, trying to steady the tremor in your voice. “Because I thought you… God, Ominis, I was in love with you.” The confession tumbled out, raw and unpolished, your throat tightening around the words. “And I didn’t think you felt the same. I couldn’t—” Your breath hitched, and you forced yourself to go on. “I couldn’t handle it anymore. Every day, being near you, pretending I was fine when all I wanted was—” A sharp, shaking inhale. “It was easier to run. To disappear. To… to hide.”

Ominis made a sound—half choked, half incredulous—a sharp, disbelieving exhale that might have been a bitter laugh if not for the rawness in it. “Are you serious? You thought I—?” He let out a shaky breath and pulled back just enough to search your face, his touch firm but hesitant, as if afraid you might vanish again. “You were everything to me.”

The world around you shrank to nothing. It was just him, just the storm in his voice, the years of pain in his expression, the way his carefully composed mask had finally, finally cracked.

You could barely breathe. “Ominis...”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “You really mean to tell me—” He let out a slow, shaky breath. “You left because you thought I didn’t love you?”

A lump rose in your throat.

"Yes."

His expression changed then—shifting from disbelief to something devastatingly open, as though every wall he had ever put up had crumbled all at once. No careful detachment. No measured control. Just him, stripped bare.

“Eight years.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, hoarse with something you couldn’t name. “I spent eight years convincing myself you were happy without me. That I was a fool to still be in love with you.”

Your breath stilled in your chest, the weight of his words sinking in all at once. “You—?”

“Yes.” The answer came without hesitation. No hesitation at all. “I loved you then. I love you now. I never stopped.” His fingers curled ever so slightly against you, like he was trying to ground himself in this moment. “And all this time, I thought you—” He swallowed, shaking his head, voice breaking on the last words. “I never knew.”

Your stomach twisted painfully.

For eight years, you thought you had carried this heartache alone.

But so had he.

Ominis had spent these past eight years thinking the same thing. That you didn’t love him. That you didn’t want him.

The weight of it crashed down on you all at once, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your fingers tightened against his jacket, as if holding onto him could somehow anchor you, could somehow make up for all the time you had lost.

Eight years. Eight wasted years.

“Ominis,” you finally managed, but the sound of his name wasn’t enough to contain everything you felt. The love. The grief. The aching realization of what you both had done to yourselves, to each other.

“Say it again,” he murmured, voice low, barely more than a breath between you.

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“That you loved me.” His fingers flexed, tightening where they rested at your waist, and you felt it—the desperation, the need. “Say it.”

Your throat tightened, and you lifted your gaze to his, knowing exactly what he was asking.

Not just for the past, but for now. For the truth that still remained, untouched by time.

You swallowed hard. “I loved you.” A shaky breath. “I love you.”

Ominis let out a soft, broken sound, like something inside him had finally snapped. Before you could even think, he moved.

His hands framed your face, and then his lips were on yours again.

Unlike the desperate, heated clash of lips from the wedding—a collision of years of tension and aching grief, unpolished and frantic—this was something else entirely. This was slow. Purposeful. Reverent.

Ominis kissed you like he was memorizing you. Like he was tracing the contours of something long lost, something he never thought he’d have again.

His fingers moved, skimming along your jaw, tilting your face just so, allowing him to deepen the kiss in slow, measured increments. No rush. No desperation. Just the quiet, unshakable truth of what had always been there between you.

You sighed against his lips, and he responded with a quiet, content hum, the sound reverberating through you like a tether, like a promise. His thumb brushed your cheek, featherlight, as if to reassure himself that this moment was real—that you were here, in his arms, not a cruel trick of his imagination.

He broke away only for a breath, just long enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven, his hands still cradling your face like something fragile and precious.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with awe, with wonder.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Believe it.”

He swallowed hard, his lips hovering close to yours, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to part from you. “I’ve spent so long dreaming of this.” A pause. “Of you.”

Your heart clenched at the quiet confession, at the raw tenderness in his voice.

“I’m here now,” you whispered. “And I’m not leaving again.”

Something in his expression shifted then, something profound and unguarded. His hands slid from your face, down to your waist, pulling you just that much closer until there was no space left between you. His lips brushed against yours once more—not demanding, not desperate, but full of quiet devotion, the kind that made your knees weak, the kind that felt like home.

His arms wrapped around you fully now, enveloping you in his warmth, his breath fanning against your cheek as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Good,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm. “Because I wouldn’t let you.”

A small, breathless laugh escaped you, but it dissolved into nothing as he kissed you again, slow and sure, as if he had all the time in the world to make up for every missed moment.

And maybe—just maybe—you did.

[cosmicpearlz]

end up here

summary: how does one fix a broken patch in a marriage? fake smiles in public and secret animosity behind closed doors doesn't help anyone.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

waking up in the morning, you turned your head. finding the empty spot that would've been where your husband laid. you turned back towards the wall and sighed to yourself. the argument that should've only lasted one night with apologizes following later, was going on two weeks now. you stretch your arms and legs out before removing the duvet from your body. stepping into your slippers, you head downstairs to the kitchen.

jude stands shirtless, pajama pants hanging just below his waistline. making two cups of coffee. he heard your footsteps but refused to look at you. a painful reminder of what your shared mornings used to be.

"good morning," you mumbled. almost like a quiet whisper that travels through the cold feeling kitchen.

"good morning. i made you a cup of coffee," jude finally turns and meets your eye for a brief second. looking back down, he stretches the cup to you.

"thank you. aren't we meeting with your family today? and then you have camp for england coming up, right?"

"yup," is all jude said before walking away with his own coffee cup. you couldn't believe this is what your marriage has come to. one-word answers and cold shoulders. to think you guys were happy before the argument. an argument that you both couldn't even remember how it originally started.

-

you and jude walked hand and hand to the front door. not wanting his family to see this rough patch that you guys were going through. you wanted to save the warmth that his hand gave you and put it in a box. missing the affection that was always shared. jude secretly felt the same, he just missed his wife but the pride he carried was too high at the moment. not wanting to be the first to apologize. even though he uttered hurtful words like you had.

"my babies!" denise smiled brightly and pulls you both into a hug. "how was the flight?"

"long. so stupidly long and i'm still jetlagged," you dramatically pouted your lips.

"well come in and relax for a bit darling, lunch is almost ready." jude loved the way you interacted with his family. it made his heart grow twice in size, seeing how soft you became. continually bringing out the side of you he loved seeing every day.

"you alright mate?" jobe asked his brother. following his gaze where they see you talking to their mum and dad.

"just fine," jude lied to the younger boy, pulling him into a hug and pressing a kiss to his head.

jude and jobe head to the living room, sitting down and watching tv. mark soon joins them, leaving you and denise in the kitchen. you sit on the dining room chair and lean your elbows on the table.

"how are you really feeling?"

"i'm okay, works been busy."

"y/n, i mean how are you and jude doing?" she turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow. you groaned and put your head down into your arms.

"is it that obvious?"

"a little. but it's only because i know you guys. always very affectionate and now it's limited to just hand holding." you almost hate how much his mom knew your relationship so well. "talk to me my love." denise puts the pot to a simmer and takes a seat across from you.

"we got into an argument two weeks ago. i don't even remember what the argument was about at this point! we've said some pretty hurtful things and now it's just not the same."

"marriage isn't going to be perfect," she reaches over to grasp your hand. "you guys are probably just stressed and you haven't even got to properly enjoy your new lives as a married couple. this rough patch isn't going to last but it will if you can't communicate with each other."

"but how do i talk to him when he said that we shouldn't have got married?" tears began to pool at your eyes, remembering how he said those hurtful words.

"honey, in no way does he actually believe that. he loves you so much and adores the ground you walk on. don't take this as me excusing what he said, because it was very insensitive and hurtful. what did you say?"

"i told him that maybe we shouldn't have gotten married. then i said that my life would be so much easier if i just never met him," you retold her exactly what you said. once the words come out of your mouth, it left a bitter taste. denise sighs and pats your hand that rested in her hand.

"you both were in the wrong. it should never have to come to this. you guys need to talk right now. end this and i promise you that everything will be okay. just talk to one another. you both love each other, right?"

"yes. i don't know what i'd do without him in my life truthfully."

"then communicate that."

not knowing that jude was having the same conversation with his dad and brother. you tried to compose yourself by wiping the stray tears that fell from your eyes. you missed your husband, and you just wanted to feel his touch once more. jude walked into the kitchen, sending a small smile to his mum.

"can i talk to you love?" jude whispered softly. you nodded and placed your hand in his outstretched one.

-

entering his childhood bedroom, you both sat on the bed. you've been in here many times over the years that you guys dated. it was silent for a while, choosing to look at the walls of the room instead of speaking. it never used to be awkward with jude. everything always flowed naturally, it's what you loved about him.

"i'm sorry-"

"i'm so sorry-"

you both share a light chuckle. not expecting to speak at the same time. even though, it was something that happened often.

"i'm sorry y/n. i didn't mean what i said. marrying you has been the best decision i ever made. getting to wake up and see you next to me or coming home from a hard day and falling into your embrace. truthfully, i fall more in love with you every day. these past two weeks have been completely shitty in comparison to what our normal routine is."

"i feel the same jude. god, i wish i could take back what i said. i don't know what i would do without you. you keep me grounded and sane. you're the best thing that's happened to me. i'm sorry that my pride got in the way of loving you. nothing should ever come in the way of us being in love. it's hard going to sleep without speaking or cuddling."

"my pride got in the way too. we've both hurt each other and i don't want to continue down this path. i love you too much to simply give up now. i miss my beautiful wife."

"and i miss my beautiful husband." jude laughs softly, as you wipe more stray tears. he wasn't laughing at you crying but laughing at the fact that, even with tears and a horsed voice, he found you to be the most precious thing in the world.

"c'mere," jude says, opening his arms as an invitation. you didn't think twice before crawling into his arms. sitting in his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms wrap around your waist, and you began to cry into his neck. rocking you back and forth, it sends tears of his own to fall onto his cheeks.

"i'm so sorry baby. i don't ever want it to get to this point again," he whispered into your ear.

"me neither," you hiccupped out. jude pulls away from the hug, just to see your face. he takes his free hands and wipes your tear-stained cheeks. once he's finished, he keeps one hand on your cheek and moves the other to rest on your waist. you leaned into his touch, missing the way it felt against your skin.

"still as beautiful as ever."

"even with red eyes and a snotty nose?"

"especially with red eyes and a snotty nose, are you kidding me? you're the prettiest girl."

"you're just saying that because you're my husband," you chuckled to yourself.

"i say it because it's true and i mean it. being your husband is just a plus."

"i love that you're my husband. i also love that we can go back to normal, goodness gracious i missed you so much."

"i love you so much and will continue to do it for the rest of our lives," jude kisses the tip of your nose and then places a kiss to your forehead. pulling you back into a tight hug.

[yuyu1024]

Fate

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 mention of blood/violence/drugs/trafficing, trauma, mention of killing, kidnapping, gun, mention of food/eating/weight, cursing, sensual touching, making out smoking, smut (but not this chapter)

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note:

Until you (mini series)

Part 1 - Prisoner

Part 2 - Escape

Part 3 - Twilight

Part 4 - Fate

A/N: again... im really sorry for being a slow writer/update for this mini series🙏🏻 i can't help it. 😭 I do get msgs asking for updates & i feel bad... so sorry 🥹 I try my best to have time to get into the story/characters whenever i have free time. I work full time and have a 2nd job too so it takes all my energy. I'm really... really sorry.😭

But yeaah, thank you for everyone liking my yoongi fanfic. 🖤🫶🏻 thank you for the patience😭

I hope this chapter is okay ♥️

****

(Prologue/Flashback)

"Sshh..." she covers your mouth for you to stay quiet and not make any noise. She reminds you constantly to keep it together or else they will find you. "Just a little bit more, Yoongi." She whispers. "Calm down..."

You try your best to do what she says because you want you guys to survive this. To escape. However you are a kid and you are terrified. And you can't stop yourself from shaking like a twig. Also you are rapidly breathing through your nose. Tears even start to fill your eyes as you look into her eyes.

"You'll be fine..." she says to you. "Noona, will protect you."

"I'm scared..." You whisper grabbing onto her long braided hair.

You two are a few inches apart. If she could only embrace you, she will. However there are metal bars between you two and she is.... injured.

"Me too." She wants to cry to as she must be as scared as you or maybe, more. But since she's the eldest between the two of you she have to be brave for you. "Just go to sleep... I promise... the moment you wake up...when the sun is shining after the storm tonight... we'll be safe... we'll already be at home..."

"P-promise?"

She tries her best to not break down because she knows that she's promising something that's very unrealistic in your situation right now. Both of you are held captives, kidnapped and waiting to be saved.

"I promise." She sniffs "Just hold onto this for now..." she meant her hair and then reaches her hand to you slowly even it's causing too much pain for her. "Go to sleep... Noona will be right here..." the tip of her fingers barely touched your cheek. "I will protect you..." she adds

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[Present]

The silence between you two is very deafening. Even the staffs at the mansion notices how both of you are very distant to each other.

Odd right? They should be used to this situation since Yoongi is the silent type or the one who does not talk that much especially to you.

However for you, maybe this is out of character as every one is not used to you being like this. Well THIS silent anyway.

You usually talk and greet them or make small talks with them or Yoongi even if it's just a random question to make him just...talk. You do anything to make him speak to you. You make small efforts to chase his attention just to get him look back at you per say. Like a dog.

But now, since he made sure to leave you the moment you got vulnerable with him during sex and mentioned a feeling you have, which in the first place you had no idea you have, really hurt you this time. Big time. It is a rejection that you never thought would bother you this much.

"You two are awfully quiet." Mrs. Min says as soon as she puts down her cup of coffee on the table. "You two are both quiet originally... I know... but..." she looks at you and Yoongi back and forth twice. "Did you guys had a fight?"

No one answers.

"Guessing...silence means yes?" Mrs. Min looks at us again, hoping someone will speak up. "What did you do?" She asks Yoongi.

But he didn't open his mouth to speak. He just continued on chewing on his breakfast while his eyes are glued to you.

He has been eyeing you since the two of you left the mansion. He have been silently watching you move along, react and walk from your back. You don't notice it as you are trying to achieve to ignore him completely today. And so far, you are a gold medalist at it. You don't even bat an eye on him.

"Fine... not gonna ask anymore questions..." Mrs. Min gives up. "Anyways, after this lunch... I'll have a meeting with Hannah."

Yoongi flinches, finally reacting and gets interested to whatever his mother is saying. "What for?"

"About the private resort project that she is building... she wants my opinion about what brands to use for the decorations. She have a final lists of candidates of brands and she wants to know my say to it."

"Really...."

"Yes... and as soon as it opens... she says you two can go there... and celebrate... as her gift. Since she missed going to your wedding."

"Celebrate?" You finally spoke after how many years. Even Yoongi whip his head to look at you.

"Yes dear," Mrs. Min smiles so brightly and holds your hand. "You're 2nd anniversary... next month... right?"

"Ah, yes... right." You try to smile it away. But deep inside, you are not looking forward to it.

Why would you? Last year Yoongi didn't even greeted you Happy Anniversary. He probably didn't care back then so why would he care now and celebrate this year? This marriage is nothing to him.

"Is she coming here?" Yoongi asks his mother, changing back the subject to Hannah

"No... I am meeting her at her office."

You are holding on for dear life on your gold medal for 'Ignoring my husband award'. You are so curious to look at him. To see his beautiful face, how he reacts when they talk about her. Hannah. The girl you saw more than a year ago. The girl you saw on the driveway, talking to your husband while she hooked her arms on his'. The girl that Yoongi seems interested about. The girl he seems to.... like.

"How about you guys? What are your plans today after our brunch?" Mrs. Min asks

"Hmm.." he sighs heavily and then takes his phone from the table. "Probably fuck my wife " Yoongi answers nonchalantly making you and Mrs. Min almost choke on nothing. That sentence made you even look at him with wide eyes and red cheeks.

"Omo..." Mrs. Min is too stunned to even comprehend what she just heard. "Well... okay... too much information but..." she then takes a sip of her coffee. "You do you."

"I'm sorry..." you apologize to your mother-in-law.

You are embarassed. This topic should be a private matter. Everyone in the mansion already seem to have the idea what you two do on a regular basis but you do hope that outside, no one has to know.

It's not that you are embarassed of having a sex life. It's normal. Yes. But to have to talk about it to his parents, oh dear god, no.

"Why are you apologizing?" Yoongi's face looks so damn serious. "We are husband and wife right?"

You scowl at Him. You don't like how he acts or portrays like sex is just a hobby for him and it's nothing to be embarassed about. Especially in front of his mother while you are present. He really does not treat you like you have any feelings. He is evil.

"Okay... children...children... don't fight about this... it's okay. You already have issues before we got here so... it's fine." Mrs. Min tries to sooth the situation up.

She's so nice to try. Though she does not know the real reason why there is a huge distance between you two today. It's not that simple. You don't even know if she knows how his son treats you.

***

"Sir." Mr. Kim bows as both Yoongi and you arrives at the driveway, about to leave Mrs. Min's property.

"Get in." He orders you

You glare at him then roll your eyes away. You are in no mood now. You have scowled at him earlier already so why not do it more now that he is irritating you.

"Hold on..." he suddenly grabs you by the arm, stopping you from getting in the car. "Did you just fucking roll your eyes at me?" He scoffs

You try your best to pull your arms from his grip but he is stronger than you. "Let me go." You grunt

"What are you doing?" He asks, "You've been.... acting up lately..."

"I don't know...what you're talking about..." you finally freed yourself from his grip.

"Don't act innocent on me... I know you."

"Know me?" You snap. "How? We barely talked these past two years... You only look for me when you want something done and someone to fuck...besides that, I am nothing to you. So how the fuck will you know me?"

Finally! You've said something. However you can't lie to yourself how terrified you are right now. Your legs are shaking. You have never risen your voice like this before. Not with him. Plus Yoongi is so freaking silent. There was no reaction from him not like Mr. Kim who just coughed because of the sudden tension.

Is he in shock? He must be surprised to hear you speak out after all this time. He had never heard you talk like this before. You can't even read his expression. He is just looking down at you, straight on.

"Ahm... Sir... Miss... I'll leave you two... alone." Mr. Kim finally broke the awkward silence. "Just message me if... we're going home."

You glance at him and bow. Also giving an apologetic look since the situation got a bit serious.

And as soon as Mr. Kim is gone from our sight, Yoongi takes a step forward closer to you, making you back up and your behind bumping on the car. "Is that... what you think?"

You glare up at him. "Yes."

"You think... I don't know you?"

"Yes."

He chuckles. "I know you more than you know..."

You frown. "You only see me when you are horny... you don't even talk to me unless to I ask you... unless you tell me what to do and what not to do... so, how would you know anything about me...?"

He scrunches his face. He looks irritated "I see you more than you think." He mumbles. And then he took a step back and looks at you and watch you tremble,"Do you regret it?" He asks

"W-what? Regret what?"

"The sex... do you regret it?"

"W-what? What do you mean...?"

He then puts both his hands on the car, trapping you between. "Just answer the question... do you hate and regret the sex?"

You look away. "No...."

"Do you want us to stop fucking?"

You sigh heavily. "Why are you focusing on the sex?!?" Your brows are furrowed. You are really showing your frustration. "It's not about the sex, Yoongi! There is nothing wrong with the sex... what I just want is... I just..." you look back at his face and you see an empty expression from him. Does he not get what you are saying or is he ignoring the other parts of what you told him. That the only thing he thinks about is your sex life. "Never mind..." you lower your gaze. "It's not like my opinion matter..."

"Y/N..." Yoongi begins. You look back st him waiting for whatever he's about to say. You think he was about to response to you or maybe say what is on his mind as well. (Maybe.) However, both of you got suddenly distracted by the honk of a black sedan car entering the property.

You have seen that car before. It is familiar. And then when it stops and someone steps out of the car...

"Yoongi?" The woman that came out of the passenger seat, is Hannah. "What are you doing here?"

She is smiling ear to ear. Her smile is as bright as her tear drop pear earrings that is perfectly shown under her tucked bob hair. She's... so pretty.

"Oh... Hi..." she waves at you when she finally notices you

"Hi." You try to smile as brightly as you can.

"You must be Yoongi's beautiful wife." She is sweet. She looks like a friendly and easy going person. "I'm Hannah by the way... I'm Yoongi's friend since we're... toddlers..."

"Nice to meet you." You bow

"What are you doing here? Mother said..."

"Ah... yes... we we're supposed to meet at my office but I just came from another meeting and since we will pass by the house I decided to just meet her now..." she explains

"She must be in her room now.. preparing to meet you."

"Oh. I see... well, I guess I'll just surprise her." She grins. "Are you guys leaving?"

"Yeah... we just had brunch with her..."

Fuck. What is going on?

Just a second ago, you're having a serious confrontation with your husband. You guys are about to talk about the situation between you two. Yes, it may not be the ideal 'talk' but it is a start. But then, here you are. Hannah arrived and stole his full attention. Literally, she have all his eyes and ears. You suddenly became a shadow.

Then you are also hearing Yoongi converse. You are hearing how is he when he's not alone with you. You are hearing a side of him that you are not familiar with. 'Fuck Y/N, stop it.' You say yourself

Maybe, you just need to stop. Just stop complaining about his attention and him not liking you. Maybe he is not the problem. Maybe.. it's you? They forced him to marry and got stucked with you. YOU are the problem. You are NOT the person he wanted to marry. You just got selected just because.

You are the problem. As always. Like what everybody says to you.

"I'll just email you my thoughts after..." Hannah says

"Why not discuss it now?" Yoongi suggests

"Hmm...but you're about to leave..." she glances at you

"It's okay." Yoongi then pulls out his phone and messages someone. "I asked Mr. Kim to come... wait for him... I'll be quick." He says to you

You look at him for a second before you turn your back on him. "Sure." You sound lifeless. You sounded like you've given up already.

"Y-yoongi... you're going to make her wait?" She whispers to him but you care definitely hear it

"Let's make it quick. I don't want to work over the weekend."

He's more worried of working on the weekend but not making you stay and wait all alone.

They start to walk away. You could see their reflection through the windows of the car.

They left you alone.

He left you alone.

Then as you are standing there, waiting for Mr. Kim to come back, you slightly bend over your torso, holding onto the yourself as soon as you felt a little uncomfortable feeling on your lower abdomen. It's not painful but it is a bit of discomfort.

"Fuck..." you hiss under your breathe.

You should be careful now. Atleast until it's fully confirmed. Yes, you are pregnant. Well, that's what the PT told you a few days ago.

You took the test, in your bathroom, scared and shaking like a twig. You have never felt this terrified in your life. Ever. And the freaking 3mins of waiting felt like forever whilst you are in there, sitting on the floor.

But yeah, after the torture of waiting, the test did show two lines. It was a faint but it is positive. And during that moment, your world suddenly stopped spinning. You had to gather your thoughts and emotion within the span of 30mins that you have. (Because your maid will enter your bathroom to help you get ready after 30mins). That was one other toture you had to endure. And to add more spice on this never ending problem is that you were all ALONE. You had no one to hold hands or hug for moral support.

You are, all by yourself.

After testing, you did processed the result in your mind and managed to get back right to reality and decide by yourself to be... okay. To take it as another good day. Because this is not something bad. It is a miracle. It's a life.

Though, you can't lie. It was a whirlwind of emotion. And you don't know what to feel yet about it. You are not even sure if you are able to share it with anyone, even Yoongi since you still need to see a doctor to really confirm it.

Confirmation.

You fucking need that final 'yes you are pregnant'. Because your further decisions in life will revovle around that one thing. Decisions that might affect this marriage and basically affect your whole life. So, you really have to find a way to get a doctor's appointment in secret. For now...

"Miss?" Mr. Kim arrives and sees you slouching, "Is everything alright?"

You turn around, stands up straight and smile. "Yes..."

"Are you hurt?" He asks

"I'm fine... but I just think... my stomach feels heavy a bit from eating... I did ate quite a bit." You lie.

"Okay, let me bring you home quick so you could rest." He says

"Thank you."

****

[Yoongi's side]

Yoongi can't sleep. He got home earlier just an hour after Y/N got home. He asked the maids to call her, to have dinner with him, but unfortunately Y/N was already fast asleep.

He waited for her to wake up from what he thinks is just a quick nap. But whenever he asks the maid if she's up, they just shake their head and say sorry.

They fought. He thinks. It felt like they fought. It's his first time hearing her talk to him like that. She have been always timid and her patience with him is very long. However, she finally have had it.

How can you make your wife, who is clearly showing you that she's falling in love with you, start to hate you?

Well, Yoongi knows what he did and is doing to her. He is very controlling, cold and distant. And these are the traits that can't be part of your life especially of you are married. However, this is how he is. As a child no, but ever since the incident happen fifteen years ago, the trauma and the life he had to put through made him, This.

Outsiders might call him as the devil or the punisher of the Min Family because of all the work he is doing inside the office and outside. He is a fighter and his hands are always covered with blood. Though what he's doing is not a crime. The Min's business is not illegal. They control everything that they can do end everything that is illegal in the most legal way possible. If that makes sense.

They were just a business before. A typical rich family. But yeah, since what had happened to them years ago, they changed their rules and how they do it now.

And that's why Yoongi have this cold exterior. He needs to show to everyone who's watching him that he can't falter. That no one could try to even break him like how those monsters break his father. How those monster took them and made them hostages.

10 million. That's all it takes, for some uneducated humans do the most horrendous thing in this world. To hurt and kill an innocent child. A 16yrs old girl and a 14yr old boy.

Their parents were willing to give the money and even more, just for them to surrender their children. However, the fear in them when they know that the children saw their faces, made them decide to end it all.

Yuna, his older sister, sacrificed her life to save Yoongi. She is one brave young lady. She managed to push his brother just in time to fall on the edge, to roll down small hill and get away through the woods. She got shot and died on the spot. Yoongi saw everything but didn't had the time to grieve then and there because he had to survive yet. To run.

It took two more days before he was found. How he survived? No one knows. But since that day, the happy and cheerful little boy grew up and became the cold Yoongi everyone knows now.

He knows that what he have been through is not an excuse to treat his wife so coldy like this. She was only forced the marry him. She didn't even know him. Which is his fault as well because he didn't allow her to enter his bubble. Up to now...

However, through all the times that he have been with her little by little, as per his therapist's words, 'You are slowly breaking.' She said.

She said that before, whenever she asks him about his wife. He is usually nonchalant or indifferent. Like he's just talking about someone he randomly met. But then one day, the therapists said, she saw a glimpse of change in his eyes the moment she asks about his wife. His expression is the same but his eyes started to shift like he's thinking about it more before he speaks.

'You care. You just don't know how to show it' she said to him.

At first, When Yoongi heard that from his therapist, he got worried. Not because He is starting to have this feeling for his wife. No. His wife is never and will never be a bad thing that happened to his life. He is worried because, what if he breaks his cold exterious and somewhere out there in the world takes advantage of it and what happened years ago will happen again?

That is his only concern. That is why, he added more men. That's why Y/N can't leavr a house alone. That's why he always tracks her phone wherever she is. That's why he can't sleep without know if she is fine or not.

If only... he never had these issues, these traumas from the past, maybe... it's easier.

"Please... don't quit on me..." he says out loud as he closes his eyes, imagining the smiling face of his wife. "Don't... leave me..." he mutters

****

After what it seems like a very, very long day for you you're finally home. You are so tired that the first thing you did after getting changed is sleep. It feels like this is the longest you've slept in like forever.

You keep turning and waking up every now and then but your body kept forcing you to not wake up. It's like its telling you that you needed this. After all of the worrying you have been having these past few days. This sleep is for you.

But then maybe after hour five of sleeping, you felt something cold touch your skin. It didn't sting. It oddly felt good.

Slowly opening your eyes, you see a blurred figure in front of you. He's so close that you could actually smell his scent. The smell of baby powder.

"Yoongi?" You ask softly as your eyes slowly adjusted to the little light of your lamp shade. But no one answered back. You then rub your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more. Just to be surez you saw what you saw.

No one. There's no one there.

"Did I... just dream about him?" You ask, looking at the ceiling. "But I swear..." you trail off. "How funny... even in my dream... I see him..."

But you swear you smelled his scent. Your imagination of him is getting stronger. Your memory of him is getting move vivid. Even the smell now. That's how longing you are of him.

You miss him. Even though he is there  you miss him. Oddly, you miss the time that both of you are just sitting down together in his home office and just reading. You miss casually asking him questions. You miss hearing him talk even though he's talking about his work and not to you. You miss him even though you just saw him earlier. Even though... he hurt you.

His scent. The scent you really, really like. His smell whenever you two have sex. It's not strong but it's there. Whenever you close your eyes and drift away from the high, you know you are okay as long as you could smell and hear him.

Fuck. Is this how being in love is?

Just thinking about him makes you want to cry. You are frustrated at him but at the same time frustrated to yourself as well. Why is communicating is so hard? You know that's the issue. Both of you are not good with talking nor expressing yourselves. Well, that's what Taehyun told you earlier.

Yeah, you went on a side trip earlier before going home, to meet your friend at his work. You needed someone to talk to and you know Taehyung is always there ready to listen to you.

You poured your heart out earlier, crying and all. You were sorry for disturbing him at work but you needed that cry and that hug. You had to told him your feelings about Yoongi. You have to say it out loud for you to truely understand the situation and yourself.

You needed someone's opinion to point out the obvious so it could stick in to your brain.

Growing up to a family where your opinion does not matter took a toll on you as well. Especially to an adoptive family. A family that only needed you for money.

To them, you always feel left out and does not deserve a voice. They always tell you that they only gave you a roof above your head and food to eat because you are what they needed. A piggy bank.

Your parents died in an accident years ago, when you are just 12yrs old. There was a police chase in the highway that rainy day. Every one is on high alert and giving way. But well, the criminals weren't exactly running away and trying to avoid cars. They hit quite a few vehicles during the chase and one of them was your parent's. The crash caused an explosion, killing them in an instant.

And like any drama stories on TV, yout aunt took you in because of your parent's insurance. They are not big but it is a decent amount. However, they could not actually touch it since it is saved for your education that's why the first month of you staying with them was torture. They beat you, make you work and starve you from time to time because they said, 'you don't deserve to eat unless you work for it'.

One reason why starving yourself was easy for you when you need to.

But then things changed a bit when someone knocked on the door one day and gave your adoptive parents a good amount of money. You remember the man saying 'this is for the trouble and lost we caused your family during our battle for saving our children.' You do remember you aunt, being a good actress that day, crying and all. You even saw them be in a good mood. Everyday because of that money. So since then, whenever you have a part time job or one good seasonal job, you save up and give it to them.

You do this not because you want them to be happy. You do this because you wanted peace for yourself. They will not hurt you if you give them what they need.

This is one reason too why you accepted this marriage. Even though, you know you will have trials too. But atleast you know, no one is going to hurt you physically anymore.

Though, you are having troubles now too.... it is still different. Like you said, it is the communication.

Is it all Yoongi's fault? No. Taehyung said that maybe, since I'm very submissive and him being very dominant, grew up giving orders or not listening to anyone because he is who he is, it affected the talking part in the relationship. Though he cannot say that it is a hundred percent fact. Because he explain, everyone have different stories of growing up and these affects every facet of their whole being when they get old.

Well, that's what you got from all his talk. Half of it, you are numb from all the crying and can't hear properly.

Though that talk with Taehyung,you needed that. Now all you have to do is talk to Yoongi.

If.... you have the courage too.

It is so hard to start a conversation not knowing how he feels about you. It is scary and a risk. But you are hoping it will turn out good especially now that you are expecting.

"Oh, right! The result!" You got up immediately and grab your phone.

You visited Taehyung in the hospital and he got to help you get a blood test to confirm. You forgot to talk to him about the result because you two are busy with doing friend therapy. He said, he'll just email you the result.

But then as you were scrolling scrolling through your emails your stomach growls. "I'm hungry..." you mumble and pause. "Taehyung said that if I am really pregnant... I need to eat properly now..."

And you haven't eaten dinner since you just slept since you came home. You need to eat.

Looking at the time it's pass 10pm already. Everyone must be asleep now or getting to bed so you must go and make yourself food yourself.

"Just one toast." You say as you push your blanket away. "Or two..."

You walk along the hallways as quietly as you can and then take the stairs instead of the elevator, going to the upper ground, so you could not disturb anyone.

There is still minimal light coming from the kitchen area. 'Maybe someone is still there?' You thought to yourself and hoping it is one of the maids so they could help you grab the things in the pantry. Since you don't really know how they organize it.

But then the second you turn to the corner, to enter the doorway

"Ah!" You hit your head first at something. Or at someone

Then after collecting yourself from bumping on someone, you look up to see who it was. "Sorry, I wasn't looking at--"

Fuck! It's not Yoongi nor anyone of the staff.

You tried to run back and scream but it was too late. He was quick to cover your mouth with a cloth. A scented cloth. The smell quickly pierced your nostrils and immediately made you feel dizzy and sleepy.

You are barely awake but you know he carried you over his shoulder. You could see the floor and the lights slowly to flicker. You are about to loose it.

'Help... Someone.... Yoongi... please...' You say to yourself before totally loosing consciousness.

-----

Taglist based on the replies last post 🖤

@gaby-93   @goodbyetwenty   @baechugff

@amyz78   @qeen123   @armystay89   @bangtannie7 @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @corruptedmistress @ot72025 @cheezwiz

@xkh0  @eli-deville

[peonyneko]

To Know You Pt.1? | OldestSon!Nanami x YoungestDaughter!Reader

MDNI!!! PLEASE!

Note: Okay, this is going to be VERY self-indulgent, but if you enjoy it... Thank you very much. My writing is very rusty because it's been so long since I've written something. I usually just keep all my thoughts hidden in my notebook or document, but I just had to get this out. Oh! This also doesn't follow the original plot a lot, since most of the characters are alive!

Nanami is hinted to be in his mid/late 30s and reader is hinted to be in her twenties.

Warning: Arranged marriage, wedding planning, some angst??, and cursing

OldestSon!Nanami who was independent since he could remember. He helped take care of his siblings when he was younger, helping them with school and anything else. Albeit, he was not as unlucky as others, but he did notice his parents were much softer on his younger siblings than him. He was not only the eldest son, but also the eldest in general.

OldestSon!Nanami who overheard his parents talking amongst themselves, saying he’s the most reliable and rational out of all his siblings. Who felt good when his parents would thank him for doing work around the house and helping them.

OldestSon!Nanami who spent his youth being the best to take over his father’s business, with some rebellion in his blood. He had his fair share of fights with his parents because he was still their child after all.

OldestSon!Nanami who guided his younger siblings and sometimes still does. Who bought his siblings anything they’d ask for, when it’s reasonable. Who’d buy them pastries when they got yelled at. Who do indirect gestures to comfort them. Who’d lecture them when their parents didn’t, especially when it came to secrets kept from their parents.

OldestSon!Nanami who fully moved out at 22 and spent his twenties just… working, saving up money. Clocking in. Clocking out. Now, in his thirties, not married, while his other siblings were all engaged or married. He did feel a little jealous. Just a little.

OldestSon!Nanami, who wanted to get married after falling in love, but life did not go as planned. So there he was, nodding and agreeing to the proposal his parents brought to him. 

But he didn’t expect everything to happen so… quick! He didn’t even know who you were, but his mom seemed to love you. She’d compliment you any chance she got, so he goes along with it.

OldestSon!Nanami, who officially saw you for the first time on the day of the wedding planning, where you requested the wedding be only with family and friends. He was grateful. 

But good lord, if your photos were pretty, then he had to peel his eyes off of you to make sure he didn’t stare. 

OldestSon!Nanami, who wanted to deeply thank whoever chose your outfit that day. Only then to figure out, overhearing you and Gojo talk, that you actually love fashion and dressing up, all the time. 

OldestSon!Nanami, who noticed your jewelry matched his eyes and his heart hummed a little. He must be overthinking it. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who went through so, so many looks to make sure he’d like it. Panicking even on the day of because “What if he hates it?” Your friends raising their brows ready to claw his heart out if he even raised a single issue about it. They’d never seen you act like this. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who did, in fact, choose the jewelry to match his eyes. Not because you’re in love! But there was something about him… you don’t know what!

OldestSon!Nanami, who wanted to not judge you from your birth position as the youngest of your siblings, but (judging and hearing from others) the youngests are often rude and spoiled. He chuckles knowing his own sibling is like that, minus the rude part. They’re just… blunt.

Still, he made sure you were okay and comfortable during the planning. Nanami just hoped you both wouldn’t clash from your differences

YoungestDaughter!Reader slowly felt her heart flutter just the tiniest bit a his kind gestures, despite being guarded. Bare minimum, but thoughtful nonetheless.

OldestSon!Nanami, who was shocked that your parents wanted you to get married so soon after the proposal, but according to your parents and his, “The clock is ticking.” In a month?! You obliged and he, who had been hesitant at first, also agreed.

OldestSon!Nanami managed to take you out only once before the wedding. For him, no feelings were involved. It was to a fancy restaurant, where he paid for everything and was confused why you took your card out. Who noticed the faint blush on your cheeks when you put your card back. He didn’t comment or ask you about it, thinking you did not want to be asked. You were glad he didn’t.

OldestSon!Nanami stupidly asked you about everything except yourself! Checking if you ate. Checking if planning if going smooth. If your parent(s) and family members are okay. Everything except yourself. He, too, only spoke of everything except himself. Okay, actually maybe you did talk about yourselves, but it was only about your professions… Does that even count?

OldestSon!Nanami who took you for a walk through a beautiful public garden lit up with pretty lights. Who couldn't help but take a photo of you leaning down to take a good look at the flowers. One without you noticing, another when you caught him with his phone up and you gave him a sheepish smile for the photo.

In the three hours you were together, he had intrigued you and you’d intrigued him, but it goes nowhere else. 

OldestSon!Nanami who, by the end of the date, when driving you home apologized. “I may not be the love you're looking for and… I can’t guarantee love will flourish, but I will treat you with nothing but respect and care. If you want to break off the wedding, I would never hold it against you,” he whispered. 

Dropping you off home utterly confused and even a little sad. A mixture of emotions, actually a circus of emotions. Both good and bad.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who couldn’t sleep from the thought of Nanami being unhappy in the marriage. You were close to breaking it off, only to stop when your family looked so happy and sad sitting in the living room, because you’d finally agreed to marry!

OldestSon!Nanami and you both see each other in the wedding venue and he could faint right then and there because of how insanely pretty you look. He could barely handle the heat that rose to his cheek whenever you’d give him that sheepish, awkward smile.

So, so pretty! Too pretty! You knew what fit you.

You, too, bursting for the inside over how good he looked in the color you picked out. 

OldestSon!Nanami who continuously stole glances throughout the night and found himself intrigued by your voice and whenever you spoke.

OldestSon!Nanami, who damn nearly broke off the marriage after hearing about your age from Gojo, who had asked one of the bridesmaids for your age. Gojo then proceeded to make a joke about Nanami being a pervert.

OldestSon!Nanami, who now felt bad marrying you, wanted to apologize if you felt obligated to marry him. Who wondered why his parents would want such an age gap for his marriage. I mean… yes you both are adults but 12 years?!

“Didn’t you know?” Gojo snicked, only to raise a brow when Nanami shook his head.

“I assumed we’d be a few years apart.” Nanami admits his fault.

Gojo laughed. “She even looks her age, you idiot. Did you even ask her?”

OldestSon!Nanami who felt his stomach drop when the realization set in. He never asked you much about yourself. About your job, yes. But not… you. Not because he didn’t want to but your conversations never went there. In the hours you two were alone, which was albeit awkward, the conversation flowed from one topic to another without ever crossing into anything particularly about you or him. 

OldestSon!Nanami felt a burn in his chest when he saw Geto and Gojo talking to you. You gave them a cute smile too. He wanted that.

OldestSon!Nanami put the ring on your finger with the gentlest hands. You felt your heart swell.  He felt your hands return that softness and he almost cracked a smile when your finger brushed over his ring with gentle eyes, as if to comfort him and say, “I don’t regret it.”

OldestSon!Nanami and you were happy the wedding went smoothly. Much more smooth than Nanami thought it would. Nothing was out of place. Everything went as planned, and when things went “wrong” it quickly got resolved.

There were tears, but you surprisingly didn’t cry much at all, like he expected. He thought you’d be more sad to leave with him. After all, you’re only known him only for a month and you now had to leave your family. All your older siblings were all crying, why weren’t you? But he chose not to think too much into it. Maybe you just weren’t a crier. 

OldestSon!Nanami got a pat on the back from all his friends, those who stayed with him since high school. He was the last of them all to get married, after all.

OldestSon!Nanami gave respect to your family, guaranteeing your safety. He thought you’d stall your time with them when hugging, you did for a little while, but not as long as he thought you would.

OldestSon!Nanami who was in the car with you in near silence, other than the humming of the song the driver played. You hadn’t asked him anything, and he didn’t ask you anything until… 

“Why did you marry me?” you calmly asked looking out the window. Your voice was quiet.

He stayed silent, not wanting to say anything that would give you the wrong idea. 

He took a few seconds before responding, “I… My family liked you.  If they chose you, I thought you’d be a good fit.”

“Oh,” you replied, and before he could say anything, you added onto it, “I did too. I didn’t think I’d get married this year, but… here I am.”

He licked his lips, nervous for some reason.

“Did you want a love marriage?” he casually asked, just curious. You still looked off to the side.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Maybe, but also maybe not. I didn’t think I’d get married.”

OldestSon!Nanami who agrees with you. Revealing that he wanted a love marriage, he hoped to fall in love with someone, but was okay with this too. Who reveals that he doesn’t know how this marriage would go, but he’d never hurt you. 

“You’re my wife. I’m your husband. Until the end, I will be,” he says.

OldestSon!Nanami who fails to notice the glossy pricked tears in your eyes and blushed cheeks. Because you, for some reason, foolishly thought there was something between the silent glances from the past month.

OldestSon!Nanami who guides you to the room, letting you know that he’s okay with sleeping in a different room, he’d been preparing another room anyways. Only to be shocked when you refuse.

You tell him that you don’t mind sleeping in the same bed, but you avoid his gaze when you say you just don’t want anything else happening. 

OldestSon!Nanami who helps you prepare to sleep, removing anything you need help with. In comfortable silence, with only a few grunts of his confusion with the riddle of a dress and hairdo, he helps you undress, stepping out of the room after he unzips the back of the dress. 

OldestSon!Nanami who changes in the guest room to avoid making you uncomfortable. Who looked at you for many seconds straight seeing you in your pajamas when you softly told him you were done. Cute… So, so fucking cute. OldestSon!Nanami who wondered what was the black silky thing you hid away in your duffle bag right when you saw it on the bed. Letting it go, assuming you didn’t want him to notice.

OldestSon!Nanami who sleeps next to you that night, both of you turn back to back. Not out of malice or hatred, it’s just both of you being nervous and embarrassed. 

OldestSon!Nanami went to sleep wondering what this new life would be like. Who failed to see the tears that fell from your eyes that night. 

You, who felt so, so nervous and guilty. He wanted to marry someone he loves and now he married you because his mother found out you were single. You, who wanted to apologize for getting in the way of his love story. You, who turned towards him, wondering how you can make this marriage work. Because even if you started to feel some inklings of what seemed to be like? Love? Would he return those feelings?

OldestSon!Nanami who fell later, but fell much, much harder.

Part 2

---

I will probably change this up a little bit soon or fix things up, but you get the gist!

This went one MUCH longer, than I thought... Clear credits for the characters to Gege Akutami (obviously), but this plot and these versions of the character are of my own (maybe OOC sometimes), so please refrain from plagiarizing.

Thank you for reading!

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Amajiki Tamaki

A/n: so sorry this took so long! I had a good thing going but my power went out and it got erased </3

I do think this one's better though. Technically this is the third legitimate try <33

Edit: I'm trying out a new format for my info.. is it better or worse O.o

General info:

Wc: 1,176 words | angst to fluff/comfort | Character/s: Tamaki Amajiki

Warnings!: loneliness, snapping, flinching, a little bit of crying. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

The night was cold as you sleepily flipped through your journal, not wanting to write but knowing you should. The entries from the last three months have been short and filled with a dull ache of lonliness. They lacked the usual length and warmth you poured into the pages, ranting on about how sweet your timid Tamaki is and how much you adore him and his ever lasting warmth.

The rambling would go on and on, but now you wrote a paragraph or two about how your life has been 'fine' and that Tamaki has been super busy- if you wrote at all.

There was one or two that held multiple paragraphs of your frustration and not knowing who to blame- knowing that it wasn't Tamaki's fault that there weren't enough heroes to protect the innocent of your large city.

Tamaki was doing his best to protect the defenseless, and you admired that- but the dull ache that sat in the pit of your stomache couldn't go ignored much longer.

Sighing, you closed your journal, standing up from your desk to head to the living room, deciding to talk to Tamaki tonight.

~~

Four hours later Tamaki walked through the front door, tall form drained from exhaustion as he made his way inside, already stripping off his hero gear.

"Tama?" You call, poking your head out from the living room to sadly smile at your Tamaki.

"Oh. Hey y/n." Tamaki yawned, dropping both his cape and mask onto the floor as he dragged his feet towards your room, tossing his belt onto the kitchen table before moving onto taking off his gear further.

"Wait, Tamaki!" You call, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as Tamaki paused, looking back at you.

"Yes bunny?"

"Ummm.. can we talk?" You ask, smiling at the nickname Tamaki gave you the first week into your marriage- though he later admitted that he thought of it when you two were simply friends but was too shy up until that point-.

"Baby, I'm really tired.. is it important?"

"Yes.. it'll only take five to ten mintues."

"Okay baby, where do you want to talk?" Tamaki yawned.

"How about the living room? I can give you a shoulder massage while we talk if you like." You smile, causing Tamaki's eyes to shine as he smiled down at you.

"I'd like that."

~

After you were both situated you started by squirting some lotion on your hands before spreading it onto Tamaki's left shoulder, immediately noticing his many knots.

"Okay bunny, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh.. so I know that you're working really hard and are really tired.. and I also know that we haven't had us time in a while.. so I was wondering if you could take a day or two off? Not much, just a day or two would be fine."

Tamaki was silent as you bit your lip in anticipation, hoping you didn't upset him somehow.

"Y/n.. are you serious?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know how many people might be dying right now? I can't just laze about spending time with you because you're feeling lonely. Why don't you go hang out with some friends?"

"T-that's not the same.."

"How so?"

"I want to spend time with you Tamaki. You know, my husband?" You scoff, starting to get annoyed.

"And I want to spend time saving people y/n, why don't you stop being sensitve and start thinking about other people?"

"But I've been holding my feelings back for months! Please! I'm just asking for a day- even a few hours is fine!"

"Y/n. No. Now if you're done I'd like to get to bed."

Jerking his shoulder away from your touch, Tamaki started standing up.

"But wait Tama-"

"No. I'm disappointed in your selfishness y/n."

"Wai-"

"Stop."

"Pl-"

"I said stop!" Tamaki hissed, turning around to face you within a second.

At the sudden movement and change of tone you flinched back, tears gathering in your eyes as you stared up at Tamaki, eyes wide.

As Tamaki glared down at you he froze as you flinched, heart immediately breaking as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Y-y-y/n I-"

"I-it's okay Tamaki.. you don't need to say anything. I get it. I-I'll just go to bed now."

"B-but y-y/n.." Tamaki whimpered, guilt consuming him as he watched you walk away.

"Y-y/n.. I'm sorry.."

~

You quickly got in bed after hurrying up the stairs, wiping at your eyes as you clung to your pillow, staying as far away from Tamaki's side as possible.

~~

You awoke the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes.

Wincing, you turned around to feel for Tamaki, forgetting all about last night and the dreadful few months.

After feeling how cold Tamaki's side of the bed you sighed, memories coming to you in flashes as you stared at his side of the bed.

Wiping away the stray tears, you got out to get ready for a day worse than the one yesterday.

After getting dressed you made your way down stairs, deciding to get on top of your piling to-do list to help get your mind off of Tamaki.

Stepping into the kitchen, you stepped back at the sight of a lavish breakfast filled with all of your favorites spread across the newly cleaned kitchen table.

"T-Tamaki.." you whimper, looking at your beloved with tearful eyes as he guilty studied you with his indigo orbs.

"Y-y/n I-"

You interrupted Tamaki as you rushed into his arms, clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for comfort from the man you've grown to adore.

"Y/n I- I'm so so sorry." Tamaki mumbled, burying his face into your hair to mask the tears falling from his eyes.

"I forgive you Tamaki, I know you were just over worked and didn't mean to take it out on me."

"I promise you- I really didn't me an to, a-and I feel terrible about it."

"Shhh it's okay baby.. I already forgave you. We just need to reflect on what we did wrong tonight and make sure not to do it in the future. Next time, I'll wait until you're less exhausted, and you'll make sure to remind me that you're too tired, mkay?"

"O-okay.."

"Now baby.. why are you home? Don't you have work?"

"Nope, I took the next two weeks and a half off. I know that it won't make up for the months of loneliness, but I'll try to be better, I"ll take less shifts and make sure to only leave for emergencies when I'm off the clock.

"Alright, that's a good start."

"I may need today and possibly tomorrow to sleep.. but I cleaned the entire house -besides our room- and looked at your to- do list and did a few of the bigger things on there.. oh and I made us breakfast.."

"Tamaki. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you too bunny. I'm really rea-"

"Shh, I already said I forgive you. Now, let's eat!"

~~~

Series' masterlist | Tamaki's masterlist | Navigation

Tips <3

Reblogs help spread and support my work, therefore they help me immensely but any support is appreciated <33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way minus reblogging.

[mypoisonedvine]

Congrats on 30k! So well deserved. I’m the anon who asked about the make out with Eddie (thank you so much, loved it!).

Now I’m kinda curious…. would you possibly please tell us more about Eddie putting “just the tip” in? Think my brain short circuited when I read that.

oh yeah a lot of people were very curious about that... allow me to expand just a bit...

warnings: needy eddie being manipulative, heavy dubcon/coercion, unwanted/unexpected creampie, religious/virgin reader

"Come on, baby, please?" he whined, tightening his grip on your hips.

"Eddie," you whimpered, "stop— hard enough to say no to you already."

"Good," he smiled, "just... stop saying no. I know you want it, too."

He wasn't wrong, of course, but you'd told yourself you wouldn't give it up for Eddie Munson. Actually, you told yourself you wouldn't even go out with him at all, but you did— and then you did again, and now he was technically your boyfriend but nobody else could know that. It wouldn't be a good look for you if Hawkins' good little church girl was caught in Eddie's trailer.

If only they could see you now: under him on his filthy old mattress, your panties pulled to the side, his cock rubbing against your thigh. Every time you saw him, you swore you wouldn't let it go any further— then you'd walk through that trailer door and he'd convince you. First it was just kissing, and you slapped his hand away when it groped one of your boobs; but then it was under the shirt stuff but absolutely nothing below the belt. Until suddenly he had you rubbing your hand on the bulge in his jeans, because it's fine if you don't actually touch it, right? Then he convinced you to let him rub his fingers over the outside of your panties, and that had you so desperate you almost considered dry humping him until you came— but you absolutely positively could not come with him, it was just wrong, it was against everything you'd been taught.

"Eddie, I can't," you swore, "I'm saving myself for marriage. I shouldn't have even done all that stuff with you from before!"

"Yeah, but I mean, fuck, look how pretty you are," he cooed.

"Y-you're just saying that," you whispered, "because you want my... chastity."

He purred through his teeth. "You know when you call it stupid things like that, it just gets me goin' even more, princess."

You whined and writhed your hips around for a moment, your pussy desperate for attention it had never known. "It's not stupid, Ed, it's my religion— it's God's law!"

"I know, I know," he sighed, "we don't have to do it. We won't. I'll just rub it on your pussy."

"No, Eddie!"

He groaned, running his hands up your shivering thighs. "C'mon, baby, feel how hard I am for you? You're so fucking sexy. It's a waste, honestly, a body like this not getting loved up."

"W-well, I think it would be a waste to give you my virginity when you're not my husband."

"It's not your virginity! It's just the outside, I won't go in."

"It's close enough!"

"Okay, fine, I'll marry you," he shrugged.

"Eddie! It doesn't work like that, I'm too young," you rolled your eyes.

He leaned down, hovering over you, looking at your face carefully. "Princess..." he whispered.

You bit your lip, your resolve beginning to crumble again.

"Please, honey, just let me feel how warm you are, that's it. And then I can wait as long as you need, I just need something to tide me over 'til then."

You swallowed thickly, wondering if what he really meant was I need something to keep me interested. "...just the outside, right?" you confirmed, and he beamed.

"Yeah! I won't go in," he promised. "Just wanna feel you soak me, that's all."

He held his dick at the base, guiding it to press right against your slick folds; you both sighed, your hips jumping at the feeling. He was so thick, his shaft spread your lips wide apart, and it made your stomach turn.

"Damn, baby," he groaned, watching his cock slide over your cunt. "You're so warm... fuck..."

You were such a sucker for how desperate he looked, his lips falling slack as he moaned for you, his hands holding tight onto your hips. "Eddie," you whimpered.

"I know baby, m'right here," he breathed, "god, I gotta feel inside you, princess. Just the tip, please baby—"

"Eddie!" you nearly sobbed, frustrated that he kept testing your integrity over and over. The first 'no' was so easy, natural even, but the hundredth was like pulling teeth. "We can't, Eddie, you can't—"

"It's just gonna be the tip, princess, I swear, just need to feel you on me," he whimpered. "I fucking need you— you're so perfect, princess, I need you so bad I can't take it."

Your breaths got faster and heavier as his cock slid over your clit just right. "Just... just the tip, okay?" you conceded. "But that's it. Nothing else, ever."

"I know, baby, I know," he promised, pushing down on his cock with his thumb as he guided it to your pulsing hole. "M'gonna just feel you, that's all..."

He pressed hard against you, pushing into your tight entrance, until finally the pressure was enough to break your body's resistance and the head slid in all at once; you whined in pain, and he moaned louder than you'd ever heard as he let his head fall back.

"Fuck, baby," he panted, "maybe you were right about this waiting thing— feels so much better with all the anticipation. Shit, been thinking about this since I first saw you— how this little pussy would feel. It feels so fucking perfect, baby..."

You whined, struggling to imagine how this was just the tip when it felt like you were being stretched so wide...

"I need a little more, princess, please," he sighed. "Just one more inch, that's not even half of it— I swear I can't help myself, you're irresistible."

"O-okay," you choked out, and the second you agreed to it, he filled you even more; it made your back arch, and with how wet you'd become it didn't hurt like you had been warned it would someday. (You still couldn't quite accept that 'someday' was today.)

"Oh fuck, fuck, baby," he whimpered, "you're so fucking good. My perfect girl. Fuck, I'm just gonna move a little... just one thrust. Just one, fuck..."

He pulled his hips back and slowly rocked them back forward, letting himself go just a bit deeper until you whined loudly. "Eddie, s-stop, no more, okay? Let's just stay like this..."

"Shit," he grunted, thrusting again. "I swear I can't fucking stop now, you feel too good. I'm already close, 'cause you're such a tease and all... I'm already so fucking close, baby, just let me come, okay?"

"Fuck, Eddie," you sighed, holding on tighter to the sheets under you. "Y-you can't, that's— that's not—"

"Princess," he breathed as he started to thrust more earnestly into you, each one a bit faster and going a little deeper than the last. "I swear I'm about to come. Just— just a little more, I'm gonna fucking come."

"But you're gonna pull out first," you assumed.

"Y-yeah," he said, "sure, of course."

For saying basically 'yes' three times, it wasn't so convincing. "Eddie, you have to pull out."

"I know," he nodded.

"You can come on me, you just have to—"

"Ohhhh fuck, fuck!" he moaned, and all at once he shoved himself to the brim inside you; you gasped just from the pain of his cock hitting so deep inside you, you hadn't even noticed yet that he was coming. "Oh my god, princess, you're fucking perfect..."

"Eddie, did you come?" you realized when he stopped moving, keeping himself to the hilt in you.

He didn't answer, just shut his eyes and started to catch his breath.

"Eddie!" you yelped, shoving him away and trying desperately to get him out of you. "Fuck, Eddie, I could get pregnant! What the fuck!"

"Sorry, princess," he sighed, though he kept a tight hold on your hips so you couldn't get out from under him. "You just feel too good. I couldn't help it."

"Oh my god, Eddie, oh my god!" you started to sob, terrified of the potential consequences.

"It's okay, baby," he promised, "it's gonna be fine. Because now that you've done it already, we can do it more, right?"

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 18: Bewitched

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Disclaimer: Please note that this is set in the 60s (like the original series) so there are some traditional dynamics. Also, some of the pairings were just made for plot convenience, I support all the ships without prejudice!

You woke up feeling like it was an important day. It was an important day.

You had received your first invitation to a neighborhood party after a few months of living there, and you were excited about it. Your husband was used to all those human rituals, but you, only since your marriage, had been exposed to them and didn’t know what to expect.

Your friendly and somewhat gossip-loving neighbor, Penelope Alvez, had been the one to extend the invitation. Your husband and hers had the same job and were quite good friends, so she thought it was a great idea to organize a gathering to strengthen the bond.

“I’m home!” called a male voice, as always, exactly at 6:30 p.m.

Your husband had chosen a black suit, white shirt, and a black tie with silver stripes that he had received for Christmas. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and his beard was starting to show. You loved any look he had, but the element of maturity his facial hair gave him had always been a weakness for you. He was one of those men who aged like fine wine.

“Good to see you, my love,” you said softly, in the midst of the mess that was your kitchen. He approached to greet you with a kiss on the lips and smiled as he noticed all the ingredients scattered on the table, the counter, the floor…

“What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Something to take to the Alvez's house. Isn’t it customary to bring something when you’re invited?”

“Yes, but… you don’t know how to bake.”

“Of course I know how to bake!” you squeaked, feeling offended. It was half-true, as you usually used magic to get decent meals. “I mean, I’m learning, but I’m trying hard.”

“I know, I know. But you could have told me, and I would’ve bought something on my way home, so you wouldn’t have to worry.”

“Let me do this, okay? I know I can.”

Spencer smiled compassionately, touched by your attempt to make a carrot cake. After the shocking revelation (for him) that you came from a powerful line of witches, the two of you had tried to live a life without magic to keep your marriage peaceful. Of course, your mother didn’t agree with this, upset that you were, in her words, lowering yourself and denying your nature.

However, you loved him enough to sacrifice the use of your powers if it meant being able to have a family with that man. No matter anyone’s opinion, it was just the two of you.

Of course, you didn’t completely abandon the use of your abilities, but you mostly did so when he couldn’t notice. After all, household chores were much easier with a little magical help.

“Okay, do you need me to help with anything? It’s almost time to go. I don’t know if you want to shower, get ready, or…”

“No. Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

You were stubborn—your husband knew that and accepted it when you decided to marry. That’s why he stepped out of your space, not wanting to create any unnecessary tension. You just needed time to calm down and carry out your plans.

Half an hour later, he came to check if you were ready, only to find you on the verge of tears in the kitchen. There was a nearly burned cake on the table, a poorly made frosting, and decorating items scattered everywhere. It was chaos.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?”

“It’s horrible! I’m a disaster,” you sobbed, approaching him to let him wrap you in his arms.

“You’re not a disaster; you’re learning,” he reassured you, holding back laughter. Gently, he removed some carrot bits that had somehow ended up in your hair and stroked your back sweetly. “It doesn’t look that bad. We can still save it.”

“I’ll bring it in a container, and… I don’t know, maybe that way it’ll look less awful.”

He encouraged you to do just that, and after helping you pack it up, you got ready to go. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t use a little magic to look better and change your outfit in a couple of minutes. And although your husband suspected it, he didn’t say anything.

Spencer offered you his arm to help you avoid tripping in those little blue heels you were wearing, and then you both walked to your neighbors’ house. You looked nervous when you realized you weren’t the only family attending, and your husband urged you to relax, somewhat amused by how much importance you were placing on it all.

“Good evening! Oh, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Come in, come in!”

The blonde woman with glasses hugged you as soon as she saw you and took the liberty of kissing your cheeks. Behind her was a man who greeted your husband, whom you assumed was Mr. Alvez.

“Thank you for inviting us…”

“Don’t mention it! I was dying to meet my new neighbor,” Penelope murmured, giving you a mischievous look. You felt as if she was trying to tell you she knew your secret.

Spencer encouraged you to enter, placing his hand gently on the small of your back and nudging you forward. Once inside, you met several people: the millionaire, divorced, and eccentric Mr. David Rossi, the LaMontagne family—husband, wife, and two kids—the Morgans, and lastly, a man named Aaron Hotchner, his son Jack, and Jack’s stepmother, Emily Prentiss.

The men were already drinking whiskey and champagne, while the women were chatting peacefully. You asked the hostess where you could put the container with the dreadful creation you had made, and she accompanied you to the kitchen.

“Penelope is obsessed with your wife. She doesn’t even pay me this much attention,” Luke teased once the women had left. “She’s convinced your wife makes things appear out of thin air and says the flowers in your garden are so beautiful because your wife takes care of them with magic and all that.”

“What… what things, that’s ridiculous,” he laughed, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling strange about Penelope’s deduction.

Had she really seen you practicing magic?

“She has a very active imagination. And sometimes she gets bored at home,” he murmured. The truth was, he didn’t believe the woman: he thought she was just pulling his leg.

But your husband, being more perceptive, started to reflect on what it meant for someone in the neighborhood to already be suspecting your particular condition. You both stayed somewhat apart during the gathering, as he wanted to give you a chance to socialize with the women. You know, to get out of the routine a bit.

At some point in the night, he saw Emily coming out of the kitchen with a slice of meringue cake that looked simply delicious, and Spencer excused himself from the other men to investigate.

“Where did you get that?”

“Uh… your wife brought it?” she laughed, a bit confused.

“My wife?”

“Ugh, men. You didn’t even notice what she baked!” the woman exclaimed, scolding him playfully. “It’s delicious, by the way,” she added, tasting the strangely perfect white meringue cream.

Spencer figured it wasn’t a matter of distraction—he knew you hadn’t brought that with you. He went in search of the dessert and saw that, indeed, a beautiful pastry was sitting on the table.

“She’s got a gift, Spencer! It’s almost like she has magic in her hands!” Penelope laughed as she cut a piece for herself before leaving the kitchen to rejoin the group.

He had a glass of champagne in hand as he approached you.

“Ladies, may I steal my wife for a moment?” he asked politely toward the group of women you were with.

You knew something was wrong when he looked at you, and as you walked over to him, you mentally reviewed what could have upset him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why is it that all of a sudden we brought a perfectly baked cake to the gathering?” he whispered through his teeth, keeping a calm expression. Everyone could have easily thought you were having a loving conversation.

“I can explain…”

“Love, you know the whole no-magic thing is for our safety. It’s not just some whim; it’s an agreement we made.”

“Do you not love me anymore?”

“How did you come to that conclusion?” he immediately replied, sounding exasperated. “I’m just saying you can do that at home, but… I don’t want anyone to find out, okay? I’m worried it could put you in danger.”

“No one will die because I fixed a cake, darling,” you exclaimed, pouting. Spencer feared you might be misunderstanding his words and getting upset, so he leaned in slightly to kiss your lips.

“Don’t be mad,” you said, looking at him in that way that made him melt, as you placed your hands carefully on his chest, almost at his neck “We’ll talk about this at home, okay?”

You sighed discontentedly, then glanced aside. The glass in his hand was almost empty, so you thought it would be a good idea to refill it with magic, even though he had explicitly told you not to use it in public a second ago. He said your name in a scolding tone.

“No one’s paying attention, Spence,” you defended yourself, nodding toward the group of people happily chatting. “But fine, I won’t do any more magic. It’s just that… everyone here brought such beautiful things, and I was afraid they wouldn’t like what we brought.”

Your husband, a bit calmer now, smiled briefly and leaned in to kiss you again, more deeply this time.

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t fit in without your magical abilities. But I also don’t want you to deny who you are. I just want to protect you, my little witch.”

You fell silent, unsure of how to respond to that, and then you leaned against his chest, silently asking him to hold you. He kissed the top of your head, and then you heard someone laughing.

“Save that for home, tiger. You’ll have plenty of time to spoil her later.”

Everyone laughed at Derek’s joke, and you both pulled away, your cheeks slightly flushed from embarrassment.

“Come join us. Reid still hasn’t told us the story of how you two fell in love, and I’m sure everyone’s dying to hear it,” Emily encouraged, sitting on the couch next to her husband.

Spencer took your hand to lead you over, and you both joined the conversation. Later, when you saw him arrive with a slice of meringue cake, you couldn’t help but give him a reproachful look, but he just shrugged and winked at you.

If you had already used your magic, you might as well enjoy it.

[n3rdy247]

HELLOO!!

can i just get a john dory x female reader! headcanons!

john dory met while crashing the wedding and immediately started to flirt with dispite just meeting her. 🫣

THANK YOU!!

HIYAAA!! CAN YOU??? 🤔🤔🤔

girl be so fr OF COURSE YOU CAN!!!

ALL ABOAAAARD THE JOHN DORY X FEM!READER HCS!!!!! WOOOOOOOOO

Okay, so, you know the whole 'watching a cute, romantic ass wedding' plans everyone had for today? Just...watching two bergens have a nice, uninterrupted marriage?

"STOP THE WEDDING!!!"

well fuck those plans. ★ Starting off the bat, when he was literally parkouring his way down that building which just happened to be the MOMENT he noticed you from the crowd, he couldn't help but throw a wink your way right after (even though he had his goggles on, that stupid mf) which led to him face-planting to the floor because his ass was NOT paying attention to stick the landing. YIKES. ★ He also DOES notice when you are at the edge of your seat to hear what the hell is going on. Apparently, he was Branch's brother (figures since both are fine ash, MUST be in the genetics), he was in a band, and his other hot brother was in danger?

remember the wedding? yeah me neither atp

★ He can't help but steal occasional glances at you when the others talk, and when he does, his smile almost seems to widen, even if it's just for a split second. He just saw you, yet look at you go! Making him all giddy and shit inside 🤭 ★ And whenever Poppy and Branch turn their backs to discuss the whole situation, you just KNOW he would be smirking at you with a smug-ass grin, trying to strike up a conversation. Keyword? TRYING.

"Soo...come here often?" lord almighty sir THIS IS A WEDDING.

"Damn, I could really go out for some fresh air right now, because I think you took my breath away." SIR WE ARE OUTSIDE WHAT

Needless to say, this man does NOT know how to strike up a convo.

★ If you do end up getting flustered about his horrendous pick-up lines somehow, he will be so fucking proud of himself for getting a reaction out of you, and WILL keep going at it. What a charmer. (Unless you are uncomfortable with that of course, he might not know how to talk to people, but he has human (troll???) decency.) ★ I'm talking him leaning slightly closer to you with half-lidded eyes, a huge smirk plastered on his face as his voice gets lower and lower, though internally I feel like he'd be going 'LET'S FUCKING GOOOO I STILL GOT IT' since he would be a bit unsure if he was doing well in the first place. It's probably been years since he had any sort of interaction with anyone other than Rhonda so it's understandable. ★ Not to mention BROZONE. MY GOD. If you know about his band? NICE! If you don't know anything about it? NICE! Either way, this man will absolutely brag about it to you. Even if it has been AT LEAST 20 YEARS. He will absolutely talk about 'the good old days' as if it was just yesterday. Bro would probably talk about how he wrote the hits "Girl Baby Baby" and "Baby Baby Girl" on the same day. ★And who knows? Maybe at the end of the wedding when sadly he has to go to save his brother with Branch and Poppy, you'll end up getting a way to contact him after the whole thing ends. You will see him sooner than you think, that's for sure though!

(please keep in mind this is the first time I've written any serious headcanons like these and not just stuff like 'he would be a great hugger' or 'he was a 7.5-inch haver 🤯🤯🤯')

GRAAAGH I'M STILL SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS THOUGH, I STILL HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT EVEN IF IT IS SHORT AS HELL

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 16

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

Warning: Tragedy, Angst, Manipulation, Intimidation

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

After what happened at the charity event, especially with Jonathan getting beaten up and sent to the hospital, everything descended into chaos. The words that came out of Patrick’s mouth traveled fast, becoming the hottest gossip in the elite circle.

It was the opposite inside one room. It was quiet. Too quiet. Because it was a patient room. Bucky was still sleeping, not waking up after his last encounter with his kidnapper. The bad dreams he had buried for a long time had resurfaced, haunting him again.

In his dream, he was a kid again, sitting on the cold floor, hugging himself. Behind the door, he heard some adult men laughing, their voices harsh and menacing. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the cracks under the door. The walls were bare, and the floor was cold and unforgiving. The air was thick with the smell of damp and neglect.

The laughter stopped abruptly. The door, which had been closed, creaked open. Finally, he could see a sliver of light again. Suddenly, the oppressive darkness receded.

“Wake up, Bucky.” He lifted his head and saw a person standing tall, holding a baseball bat in one hand.

It was you.

You leaned closer, offering your hand to him. “Time to go home,” you said softly.

Bucky slowly opened his eyes. The brightness almost blinded him, but soon his eyes adjusted to the light. He felt his left hand was heavier but warm.

He moved his head a bit and saw you, asleep on the side of his bed. Your hand was gently resting on his, your face soft in sleep. He noticed the slight rise and fall of your shoulders with each breath, the way your hair fell over your face. The sight filled him with a sense of comfort and safety he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Bucky’s fingers twitched slightly, the warmth of your hand grounding him in reality. He took a deep breath, the sterile scent of the hospital mixing with the faint scent of your perfume. For the first time in days, the nightmares began to fade, replaced by the reality of your presence.

His heart swelled with gratitude. You had been there for him, even when lost in his darkest dreams. He knew he wasn’t alone anymore.

He watched you for a moment, feeling a deep sense of relief. He didn’t want to wake you, but he needed to let you know he was alright. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he whispered, “Hey.”

You stirred, blinking groggily as you lifted your head. When you saw Bucky’s eyes open, a wave of emotions washed over your face—relief, joy, and concern all at once. “Bucky! You’re awake,” you said, your voice thick with emotion.

He nodded, his voice still weak. “Thanks for being here.”

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. How are you feeling?”

“Tired, but better now,” he said, his voice gaining a bit of strength. “I... I saw him.”

Your heart ached for him. “I know. But you’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Bucky took another deep breath, feeling the weight of your words. “It felt so real, like I was back there again. But then you showed up. You saved me.”

You smiled softly. “You saved yourself, Bucky. I was just there to remind you that you’re not alone.”

A soft knock on the door interrupted the moment. A nurse peeked in, smiling when she saw Bucky awake. “Good to see you up, Mr. Barnes. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Bucky replied, managing a small smile. “Thanks.”

The nurse checked his vitals and noted his progress. “You’ve got quite a few people waiting to see you. Should I let them know you’re awake?”

Bucky glanced at you, then nodded. “Yeah, let them know.”

As the nurse left, you leaned closer to Bucky. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

He squeezed your hand again. “Thank you.”

Minutes later, the door opened again; Rowan and Juliana hurriedly entered the room, their faces etched with worry.

“Bucky!” Juliana rushed to his side, her eyes filled with tears. “Are you alright?”

Bucky gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Mom. Really. But I have to leave now.”

Juliana frowned, her hand gently resting on his arm. “You just woke up. You need to rest.”

Bucky shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. “I feel better than ever, Mom. I’m finally free from the bad dreams that have haunted me for so long.”

Rowan, standing beside Juliana, placed a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Son, what are you planning to do?”

Bucky’s gaze hardened, his jaw set with resolve. “What I want to do now is give a lesson to the source of my nightmares. I can’t let this go on any longer.”

His parents exchanged a worried glance. Juliana's eyes softened as she reached out and touched Bucky’s cheek. “Just promise us you’ll be careful.”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I promise. I’ll take care of this, and then I’ll come back. I need to do this.”

As he stood up, you, Rowan, and Juliana watched him, knowing there was no stopping him now. Bucky was determined, and nothing would stand in his way. Except for Rowan, whose mind was already on picking a good lawyer in case Bucky did something out of line.

🤜

Inside the shady bar, Lance watched the video of Patrick beating up Jonathan. He saw Genevieve standing by, watching her husband get pummeled.

Lance chuckled and puffed smoke from his mouth. "She left me for that guy? Idiot." He muttered. He leaned back, a smirk spreading across his face. Genevieve and he went way back, like Bonnie and Clyde. They were the perfect criminal partners, but one day, she decided to leave and chase a rich guy. He shook his head, still smirking, as he flicked the ash from his cigar.

Suddenly, his relaxation was interrupted by a scream, "Boss! Someone is attacking us!"

Lance stood up quickly, grabbing his gun. He saw many men in suits, each armed, entering the bar. He was completely outnumbered.

The uninvited group made a path for someone. This person looked different from the rest. Lance immediately recognized him. The little boy who once looked helpless had now grown into a formidable man.

From that second, he knew. He had fucked up.

Lance didn’t remember what happened next, but he woke up tied to a chair in a dark room, illuminated by a single bulb. In front of him were various torture devices. He screamed, "Help!!!" The once-strong man now trembled like a scared child. Who would have thought that Lance's weakness was needles?

Bucky watched everything from a TV screen, with Rowan beside him. Rowan’s face was impassive, but his eyes showed a mixture of concern and resolution.

"How long are you going to keep him here?" Rowan asked, his voice calm but firm.

Bucky’s gaze never left the screen. "Half of my life was robbed by him. He will spend the rest of his life here." He turned away, his posture tense but determined. "I have a lot more work to do. I need to make sure to erase Lance's existence from this world."

Rowan nodded, his expression one of silent agreement. He wouldn't say anything against Bucky's decision; if his son finally defeated his demons, he would support him.

🏥

Back to Jonathan, who had slipped into a coma for a while. The doctors had assured everyone that he would wake up shortly.

Jonathan who still asleep, but he could still hear everything around him. Genevieve’s frantic voice pierced through his foggy consciousness: “The investors want to sue us? On what grounds?” she screamed at the company lawyer.

Then he heard Victoria's distressed voice. “Mom, what the heck? My image is ruined, and all the brands are cutting their ties with me!”

Neither of them expressed any concern for him.

The Celestial Enterprises had fallen apart in just a few days. While Jonathan lay helpless, Patrick had launched a relentless attack on the Sinclair empire, dismantling it piece by piece, like plucking petals from a flower.

How could Patrick do it so effortlessly? He had the help of the Barnes family. Bucky had uncovered the dark history between Genevieve and Lance, adding more fuel to the fire. The Celestial's share price plummeted, and they found themselves in hot water.

Jonathan finally woke up. As his eyes fluttered open, Genevieve rushed to his side, her face a mask of worry. “We need you. The company needs you,” she pleaded, her voice trembling.

He stared at her with piercing eyes, the depth of his disappointment and regret palpable in his gaze. “Why did I choose you?” His voice was barely whispery, yet it cut through the air like a knife.

Genevieve's breath hitched. “You…” she started, but he cut her off.

“Why did I abandon my Ophelia for someone like you?” Jonathan’s voice was cold and distant.

“Stop it,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Jonathan ignored her plea. “Fast forward Victoria's wedding. It will help the company,” he ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

Genevieve was shocked. “You’re going to send our daughter to marry that psycho?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Jonathan’s gaze remained cold and unyielding. “Do it,” he commanded, turning his face away from her. He seemed utterly unbothered by the collapse of his empire, his mind consumed by regrets and a relentless drive to salvage what little he could.

Genevieve's hands trembled as she backed away, her mind reeling from the coldness in his eyes. She realized that the man she once thought invincible was now shattered, and she was left to pick up the pieces of a life built on lies and ambition.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[leonenjoyer69]

OKAY, HELLO MY NEGLECTED TUMBLR, HERE'S PART ONE OF,,, WHO KNOWS HOW MANY, ON THE SIBLING AU!! creating an AU of your own AU is crazy, but hey, you know how I am. (Edit, theres now a part two with Elias!!)

This post is all about:

Henry Animus Kell! The sibling AU version of Mindkyll, but not evil <3 also NOT related to Henry Jekyll, they just look oddly similar 😋

Kell was born with an issue in his left leg, leading him to need a cane on him constantly, as his muscles will occasionally spasm or give out. As a child, Kell looks up to his parents, who are both quite well off doctors, and all the other high society folks around him. He's taken to balls sometimes, causing him to mimic the speaking manners and actions of the people around him, especially their charm. It's at one such ball that he vaguely meets Robert Lanyon, who somewhat enraptures him. Robert doesn't seem too interested in him, leading Kell to try and charm him like he's seen the adults do.

Instead, he meets Elias Lanyon, Robert's neglected and troublesome little brother, who's usually kept away from the balls as to not taint the family name as much with his "misbehaving". Of course, Kell quickly sees Elias as an opportunity to get through to his brother, basically just using him as an in. However, he begins to actually get quite attached to Elias, quickly becoming Elias's main friend.

The two hung out constantly, Kell slowly warming up to Elias's odd mannerisms as the two practically became inseparable. Kell's parents took quite a liking to Elias, so they were quite alright with it, and the Lanyon's saw it as a positive influence on Elias, somebody that would hopefully fix him. Lanyon does eventually warm up to Kell, but he has to work through a lot of jealousy first.

In university, Kell plays around with boys a decent bit, using that charm he learned through childhood. Unknowingly, he tends to go for boys that remind him of Elias, but he quickly gets bored and drops them, until he finally just quits dating around near the end of his and Elias's second year. This is also the year that Jekyll comes in, causing confusion considering his and Kell's similar looks. At first, Jekyll gets mistaken as a Kell, but as Jekyll begins to make a name for himself, it starts going both ways.

Eventually, after a nasty breakup on Elias's side, Kell and Elias finally realize their mutual feelings and get together, quite happily. They also help keep Jekyll and Lanyon together through Lanyon's arranged marriage. When Elias gets disowned by refusing his own potential arranged marriage in his last year, the both of them and Kell are there for him.

Post university, Kell starts his own medical practice (eventually taking over his parents) with Elias by his side. Jekyll still goes on to open the society, Lanyon much more willing and happy to help, and Jekyll hires his younger brother Edward on as well. Kell and Elias focus on their practice, but help out at the Society a decent bit, whether for medical reasons, moral support, or financially. Kell has calmed down his charm quite a bit, but when dealing with high society, balls, or people he doesn't like, it still certainly shows itself.

Personality wise:

When he's younger, Kell is quite guarded, usually charming his way through situations, just as he saw the adults doing. He's quite empathetic, but mainly only for those he cares about. He has a habit of speaking the truth around people he's comfortable with, and he's quite easy to fluster or confuse. He can be quite antagonistic towards people he doesn't like, usually not immediately or directly though, saving it for the right moment or when it's needed most. He tends to fight for what he wants, being quite argumentative at times, but specifically with his peers. He can be a bit cruel at times as well, but never with the people he cares about.

He has the biggest soft spot for Elias, letting down most of his walls for the blond. When they're dating, Kell makes sure his partner knows he's loved, going out of his way to make Elias happy, taking him on picnics, giving him gifts, etc.

Post university he mellows out quite a bit, becoming more of a kindly gentleman, always smiling and gentle looking. Of course he still has his moments, especially towards people that aren't his special people, but he's got quite a good reputation, not many can seem to hate Dr. Kell.

[boybandbaby]

The Sweet Escape Part II

911 AU (Prince!Evan Buckley x Fem!Baker!Reader)

previous part | series masterlist

word count: 3228

warnings/tags: toxic parents, forced/arranged marriage, classism, bullying?, shit-talking, cussing, eventual non-friend (wouldn’t say enemies) to friends to lovers, reader has a grandma, as always please lmk if i missed any

note: this is what I picture the reader wearing (does not indicate a specific hair color, skin color, or body size, I just really like this outfit!)

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

The Buckley's cordially invite you to a Royal Ball at the Palace

Please join us this Saturday the 5th at 7pm

Your fingers graze the invitation, white with gold writing, raised and shiny. You groan, throwing the invitation onto the desk in your room. You toss yourself back onto the bed and grab a pillow to let out a frustrated scream.

“Don’t be so dramatic, y/n.” Your grandma states from your doorway. “If you don’t go, I’ll just have you work with Ravi at the ball.”

“Then I guess I’ll be working.” You pull the pillow into your lap after having smothered your screams into it.

“So, why is the prince coming to our bakery to hand deliver an invitation to my granddaughter? Is there something I should know about?” She raises an eyebrow.

“No! He’s been bugging me almost everyday since I started delivering.” You groan. “He does this stuff to get under my skin.”

“Or because he likes you.” She suggests.

“Maybe in your time, the whole ‘boys bother girls because they like them’ thing was considered romantic but not today.”

“My time?” She scoffs.

“Come on grandma, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, I get it. The old lady isn’t hip to your new customs and slang.” She shakes her head. “I’m just saying, he seems sweet. Give him a shot.”

“He doesn’t even like me and I don’t like him! We’re not even friends.”

“Okay, well don’t be so mean next time. It’s bad for business.” She smiles. “I love you. Goodnight.”

“Love you too, grandma. Goodnight.” You lean into her forehead kiss before shutting off your lamp.

Buck doesn’t come down to the kitchen the next few deliveries and you’re wondering if you’ve actually upset him. You decide it’s better to go to the ball as a worker just in case he doesn’t actually want you there anymore.

You listen as Ravi tells you about his college classes. He’s a few years younger than you and works at the bakery on his days off for school. While his family comes from some wealth, he’s humble enough to work a regular job while also going to school.

You’re both tidying up the table you’re standing at, replenishing treats as people come and go.

“You came?” Buck asks, surprised. You jump at the sound of his rushed voice.

“Mhm. My grandma wasn’t too happy with my behavior the other day, said I might've hurt your feelings.” You turn to him.

He looks really good. He’s wearing a navy blue suit with a baby blue tie, some embellishments on the shoulders and a white sash across his broad chest.

“I wouldn’t say you hurt my feelings.” He smirks, having watched your eyes travel over his figure.

“No? Just bruised your ego?” You smile back, your usual bite and attitude gone.

“Just a tiny bit, yeah.” He watches as you set a cupcake onto a tiered marble display. “I didn’t invite you here to work.”

“Well, your mother had different plans.” You shrug.

“Promise me you’ll save a dance for me tonight?” He tries to meet your eyes. “I mean you kind of owe me.”

“Is that so?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah, since you bruised my ego.” He smiles, “Okay, so what’s the best flavor?”

“Here, try this one. It’s a vanilla cupcake with a caramel center, cinnamon sugar buttercream on top.” You hand him the gold foil wrapped cupcake.

You snicker behind your hand as he dives in. He’s a sloppy eater and gets frosting on the tip of his nose.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He says, mouthful of cupcake.

“Yes, you’re so messy!” You giggle.

“Where? Here?” Buck puts the cupcake to his cheek, frosting stuck to his skin. You shake your head, laughing. “Here?” He touches the frosting to his chin, cream cakes in his stubble. “Did I get it?”

“You’re such a dork, Buckley.” You grab a napkin and usher him forward. Buck leans over the table, cheeks warming when your left hand comes to hold his face as your right hand wipes the frosting away. “There.”

Bucks eyes flick to your lips as you say it. “All clean?”

“All clean.” You nod, pulling your hand from his face. Buck's eyes meet yours for a moment before he stands up straight.

The interaction is interrupted by an aggravating voice. “Evan, you don’t need to be eating sweets, you need to be out there mingling.”

“Mom-" She snatches the cupcake from his hand and tosses it into a trash bin.

“Evan.” She raises a brow at him. He sighs before saying goodbye to you with very sorry eyes. When he passes behind her, he mouths “one dance” with his pointer finger up as a reminder. You watch as he swerves through the crowd, heading into Eddie’s direction.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a cough. You meet the Queen’s eyes. “Good evening your majesty.” You bow to her and then swivel on your feet to bow to Maddie, who approaches for a cookie.

“The bread has been a little dry lately.” She states to you.

“Mom!” Maddie chokes on her bite of a snickerdoodle cookie.

“Oh hush,” she waves her hand at Maddie. “I hope tomorrow’s batch will be fixed?”

“Yes ma’am.” You gulp. You’re normally one to argue but know there’s no good in fighting with the Queen. Plus, your bakery is known for how fluffy, moist, and airy your baked good are.

She makes you feel so small and the sinking feeling in your chest drops to your stomach. She reminds you that you don’t belong in this world, his world, and the realization that you’ll never have Evan Buckley, hits you hard. The Queen nods once before moving into the direction of her husband.

“I’m sorry about her.” She grabs a napkin from the table. “She can be a lot. I mean, can you believe she’s put on this whole thing just for Buck to get a wife?”

“What?” You startle.

“You don’t know? They want Buck to find a wife by the end of the night. That’s why there’s so many girls here. It’s kind of an unspoken thing.” She chuckles. “Buck isn’t very happy about it.”

“Oh… I wasn’t aware.” You mumble. You start to feel sick to your stomach. Is this why he invited you here? Does he possibly feel the same? Or is he trying to use you to get back at his parents?

You excuse yourself, Ravi stating he can handle the table while you’re gone. Your corset feels like it’s getting tighter around your belly and chest. You start to feel yourself losing control of your breathing. You rush into the bathroom, passing the powder area, then locking yourself into a stall.

You won’t let yourself cry here and not for these people. Just as you’re ready to exit the stall, you hear a voice.

“Did you see him with that baker girl?” The voice is shrilly as she sprays perfume onto her gown.

“I did! She was touching his face, basically, draping herself all over him and sticking to his side like a Velcro dog. I mean come on, his parents would never let him date let alone marry trash like her.” Another girls voice states, lips smacking to smear her newly applied lip gloss.

“You think she’s sleeping with him?” The first voice states. “He was pretty flirty with her.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me, I mean Evan slept with me on our first date but then again look at me. I definitely don’t think he would hook up with her, just look at her.” Lip gloss girl laughs.

“And did you see her dress? God, it just screams poor.” Perfume girl chokes out another laugh.

“You’re right, Evan has standards. I mean she could never give him what he needs.” Lip gloss girl puckers her lips and blows herself a kiss in the mirror.

“And you can?” Another spray of perfume.

“I already have.” She slips the gloss into her bag. They both laugh before slamming the bathroom door shut behind them.

You’d fought with yourself on whether you should leave after finding out this whole thing is for him to find a wife but after hearing those girls say those things about you, you’re ready to bolt. You can feel tears blurring your eyes and a tight ball in your chest.

Why do you care so much about what those wenches think? You’ve never cared about girls like that and their opinions but after dealing with The Queens micro-aggressions towards you, you wonder if Buck feels the same. Maybe he thinks you're an easy lay or someone he can walk all over.

You run to the sink to splash water on your face before going back to the table. Your grandma would be upset with you if you left the ball and you’d be mad at yourself for letting these uppity assholes get to you. Also, you’d never leave Ravi alone to deal with everything.

With a deep breath, you check your face for any signs that you've been crying and smooth down your skirt. Just as you exit into the hallway, Buck turns the corner and stumbles into you.

“Whoa! Hey! I was looking for you. I’m cashing in my coupon for a dance.” His fingers inch toward your sleeves, feeling at the fabric.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Your parents won’t be pleased.”

“Nonsense. One dance.” He hand grips your arm, not tight enough to bruise but firm enough to have your head reeling.

“Is that an order?” You attempt to smile, he doesn’t seem to notice that it’s forced.

“Only if you keep rejecting me.” He winks. When you don’t come up with a quick response like you normally would, he grins and holds his other hand out.

You hesitate, hand lingering at your sides. He wiggles his fingers and you forget for a moment that something between you two could never happen. You let yourself go and wonder if this would be the only and last time you’d be able to interact with him like this.

After tonight, he’ll be an engaged man. He’ll soon have a wife and then be a ruler and maybe a father. You hardly know him! Does he even want children? His duties will force him to produce an heir but you wonder if he wants kids himself. You think he’ll be a great father one day and hopefully a great king.

As he pulls you onto the dance floor, a wordless, piano ballad echoes in the room. He wraps an arm around your back, hand placed respectfully at the center, as his other hand holds your own. You place your empty hand on his chest.

“I think this is the closest you’ve ever let me get to touching you.” He points out.

“This is least annoying you’ve ever been.” You joke. He laughs, it’s boyish and loud. There's a moment of brief silence. “So, you’re really going to be king soon?”

“Sounds like it.” He sighs.

“And that’s why you invited me tonight? To be an option in your pool of potential suitors?”

“Not an option. More like my number one choice.” He flirts, though there’s sadness laced in his words.

You laugh incredulously. “You’re a piece of work, Buckley. So, what’s your deadline for picking a wife?”

“By the end of the night.”

“By the end of the night? Have you even really gotten to know anyone here?” You look around.

“No, that’s kind of why I was hoping you’d agree to be my wife.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You roll your eyes. “What makes you think I would agree to something like that?”

“I know it was a long shot but I also know you have a soft spot for me. You try to act like you hate me but deep down I know you don’t.”

“Agreeing to an arranged marriage with you sounds like torture.”

“So, you really don’t like me, huh?”

“I mean the whole idea is just… wrong and I know you don’t have much choice so I’m sorry for that. But I know who ever you choose will be lucky. You can be really annoying some days but I also know you have a big heart and mean well. Just don’t give your heart to someone who’s not in it for the right reasons.”

“I’ll take that as you do like me.”

“Shut up, Buckley.” You push his shoulder. “Let’s say I do agree to be your wife. What’s in it for me?”

“I know you’ve been telling Bobby that you need a new stand mixer. I could maybe buy you that?” He offers.

“You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. I know a stand mixer isn’t equivalent to marriage but that’ll just be the start. Then maybe we can get those renovations you’ve been dreaming of.”

“You remember when I talked about those?” You gasp. “That was like 2 years ago.

“2 years and 3 months. Plus, I remember everything you say.” He bites his lip.

It’s unlike you to agree to something so crazy, so permanent, but Evan Buckley has a way of getting to you. His blue eyes and his sweet smile, the way his eyes crinkle shut when he’s so happy, his birthmark, so unique and beautiful. It’s all the initial reasons you fell for him before you got to know him. That part you’ve tried to shove deep down comes up as you look at him and you find yourself agreeing to marry him.

It’s probably the most unromantic proposal: “Will you be my arranged marriage wife?” He whispers in your ear, both arms wrapped around your waist.

You laugh before nodding. “This is crazy, Buck.”

“You’re a life saver. I’ll never be able to thank you for doing this.” He rests his cheek against your head.

Buck has pulled his parents, Maddie and Chim aside. They stand in the King's office.

“So, who have you chosen son?” The King asks.

“Y/n.”

In comes a forced laughed then a strict “no.”

“But I chose someone like you asked and I’m happy with my choice.” Buck begins to get worked up.

“Evan, we said someone who would fit the role of future queen. She is a baker. I mean, running a bakery is not like running a kingdom.”

“She’ll learn. I’ll help her.” He pleads.

“No, you’ll choose someone else.” He commands.

“How about June? Her family owns the shopping plaza, they make good money and we would be able to maintain a strong network with them.” His mom chimes in.

“Please, I never ask for anything. I’m asking you to let me choose this one thing. Please.” Buck nearly cries. Maddie steps forward to run a hand over his back.

“Y/n, she’s a… nice person but she’s not right for you.” His mom cringes at her words.

“She’s perfect for me.” Buck looks to Maddie for help then to Chimney on Maddie’s other side.

“Evan, she’s… she’s just not good for the family.”

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means she’s not good enough. She doesn’t come from wealth, she’s a villager. Don’t you have higher standards for yourself?”

“That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know her.”

“And you do? You see her when she delivers the bread every morning. Bread delivery! You could have any woman in town and you’re going for the lowest of the low. You know just as much about her as we do. You’re living in fantasyland, Evan.”

“It’s not a fantasy.” Maddie interrupts. “Buck is smart, he wouldn’t be choosing her if he thought it would be bad for the family.”

“This is not up for debate anymore. I’ll choose your bride and we’ll be done with it. Get your head out of the clouds Evan, you’ll never be a good king if you don’t shape up.”

They exit the room. From your position in the hallway, you crouch down behind a large vase with a bush of flowers. You’ve heard everything and it’s cemented in your mind that you and Evan could never be.

With tears streaming down your cheeks for a second time tonight, you wait until their footsteps and conversation can no longer be heard. When it’s all clear, you make your way down to the kitchen where you hope no one is there to see you. You’ll collect all of your items and make your way back home on your bike. Ravi has since left so you will have to go alone.

You’re almost fully free, just the few steps that lead you up to the back door where your bike rests.

“Don’t leave!” Buck cries, pulling you back by your arm, not too hard. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s fine.” You turn away, not wanting him to see you like this. “Look, maybe your parents are right. Plus, if we were to marry, I would have to leave my grandma and the bakery and I just can’t do that.” You justify.

“You wouldn’t have to, I’d make sure of that. Please just stay so we can talk about this.” Buck intertwined your fingers. “I’ll persuade them to change their mind.”

“Buck, let’s be real. It’ll never work between us. We come from different worlds. We’re too different. I’m sorry.” You rush out. “I’m sorry I couldn't help you out. I hope you find someone who treats you right.”

“Don’t go. Please.” He sobs. “Look, I know we’ve never been friends, you’ve made that clear but I feel like we’re getting somewhere. I wouldn’t want to go back on the small progress we’ve made.”

“Consider us friends then. I’m sorry. I wish you the best, Buck but I have to go.” You pull your fingers from him before making your way out.

Buck feels the wind knocked out of him when the door shuts with a slam. He stumbles on the stairs and holds onto the brick wall as he descends into the kitchen. He feels lightheaded and nauseated.

The night’s events have gotten you worked up and burnt out. You don’t even bother undressing when you get home and your grandma has been asleep for hours. You have a restless night, tossing and turning, replaying the words and actions of everyone in Buck’s social circle. You can’t get the image of Buck’s cloudy blue eyes, the sounds of sticky lip gloss smacking or the scent of floral perfume out of your head.

When you finally get to sleep, it feels like minutes later that you have to be up for your daily delivery.

In bold print, fresh off the printer, is the morning paper sitting beside your apron.

ANNOUNCEMENT

Attached below is a photo of Buck, hand in hand with a woman you’ve never seen before. Below reads:

Phillip and Margaret Buckley are pleased to announce the engagement of their son Evan Buckley to June Samuels, daughter or Ronald and Antoinette Samuels. Plans are currently underway for the big day. The palace workers are working their hardest to ensure the Buckley’s vision comes to life. The Buckley’s are overseeing every detail to celebrate the special occasion. Announcements will soon be sent to a carefully chosen guest list. We congratulate the beautiful couple and wish them the best in their future endeavors.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

next part

[skyrigel]

Hey Rigel I love ur work like so much 💓 can I request Anthony bridgerton where he is getting married and realises his love his y/n or smth similar with him getting jealous and angry when y/n and Benedict or colin fake date like tht or anything if this doesn't make sense 😭

Enchanted | A.B x you

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict x fem!reader x colin ( platonic) wc - 3.8k

Synopsis: When Aubreyton's CEO strikes a match with Miss Edwina sharma, because she's nice and kind and witty, ofcourse nothing could go wrong, except you have feelings for Anthony.

Warning :CEO! Anthony x assistant! reader, Asshole! Anthony, Benedict x sophie, Polin, bridgerton's chaotic dynamic, reader and Benedict share one brain cell that's mostly with you, alcohol, fake marriage( Anthony and reader), social media au, office au, modern setting, forced proximity, jealousy jealousy, mutual pinning, fluffy fluff, bit angst, arranged marriage, bit Collen Hoover bashing but it's a joke ( maybe not ) no Edwina bashing, scary Kate sharma, yes!!! ( Might add more later )

" Your brother is an idiot." You said, gritting your teeth as your mail blew with applicants, beautiful young ladies with peculiar yet remarkable talents.

" That." Benedict catched the grape midair with his mouth," we know of." He added with a cocky grin.

" Read another ! " Colin peppered, stealing your cookies which you ignored, sighing as you opened another mail.

" Tiana Young, twenty-one, I like to read, write and sing, my favourite author is Collen Hoover—" Benedict snorted, " —I like children and hope to be a mother, I am very soft spoken and good natured, my neighbours call me Ti, because I am a tea kinda person—"

" What's a tea kinda person ? " Colin bited the smuggled cookie, Benedict pulled the remaining to his side hastily, you felt your appetite long gone.

" It's like...they are like tea..." Benedict said, more in doubt as he looked for affirmation.

" Like milk tea or another tea ? " You asked, perhaps tea could takeaway your headache.

" What's an another tea ? " Colin's hand began to pull the tray, Benedict frowned but said nothing, taking one hurriedly and breaking it into two parts, offering you the bigger one.

" No thank-you, let me fix this Tiana's appointment." You exhaled, copy pasting a paragraph how (un) grateful you were to her for reaching out, she would soon have her appointment date and bla bla bla.

" I knew my brother was workholic but this wife hunting thingy is so exhausting." Benedict wiggled his eyebrows, you knew he was being kind but he wasn't helping at all.

" It would have been over if his requirements weren't so high, like he's not looking for a wife but some utopian woman god has yet to create ! " You were ranting, you knew, but this was the only way you could stop yourself from punching Anthony for putting you into this misery.

" Why can't he just fall in love ? " Colin looked at you and Benedict seriously, his mouth covered in crumbs, " Come on, love is like...like a force to be reckoned with ! " He beamed, ofcourse it was a force, didn't Penelope wrote something smiliary in her latest book, you somehow felt your heart shuddering, what would happen if Anthony were to be in love, some intelligent, beautiful woman, some utopian goddess of his, you didn't like the idea one bit, so you laughed it off.

" Brother in love ? " Benedict was in stitches, banging his palm on the table, shaking few very important papers that laid without any significance. They will be probably used as napkin if you weren't there.

" It's not funny." Colin got up, taking his coat, he rolled his eyes when Benedict refused to stop laughing, you shaked your head helplessly as another mail popped up, Jasmine had written a essay about global peace and increasing capatilism, you groaned, damn you Anthony bridgerton!

_

" Good evening Anthony." You tapped save on your screen as Anthony entered the office, a beak of sweat trickling down his neck line, okay, someone got either fired or roasted down to their very existence, you preferred the former.

" Good evening y/n." He looked up at you, he worried his jaw to say more but decided against it as he settled on his chair, it was very comfy and very big, years of working with him but you couldn't fathom the courage to ever have a taste, perhaps Benedict would help, maybe then.

" There are twelve appointments I have scheduled for tomorrow, Miss Becka—"

" Cancel them."

" What ?! " You almost shouted, you didn't waste your whole day to adjust and fit these pretty woman according to the time and weather and place and Anthony's mood so nothing went wrong, did he just said cancel them like it was nothing, this—

" We are going out Tommorow, it might take all day so cancel them." Anthony ran a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply, your brain short circuited at the words more and more made some meaning, we ?! Did he, for heaven's sake said we ?

" You and me ? " You blurted and lowered your gaze when his eyes snapped to you, a deep color blazed your nose as you fiddled with your skirt.

" Yes, me and you." He confirmed and you could swore, that was a smile, a small, thin, almost unrecognisable on his always stern face, but that was a smile.

" Why ? " You closed your laptop, tucking the strands of your hair that usually came out after a long day, behind you ear.

Anthony pressed a key and it beeped, he shifted his face to you, thinking that he was almost frowning and finally, he said with a neutral face.

" I have found a match." His face gave nothing away, " Miss Edwina will be most suitable for marriage." He said it like it wasn't his marriage he was talking about, " she's very graceful and witty and would make a amiable wife and a kind loving mot—"

" Right." You snapped mid course, his mouth was hanging open with words lost in void, you knew very well Miss Edwina was a fine young lady, she was beautiful and kind and sharp at wits, ofcourse this ended your torment or perhaps began another, but not now, you needed to think.

" I..I promised Benedict for dinner. " You muttered, feeling your whole body numb as you stumbled out of your seat, Anthony watched, something glazed in his eyes but you couldn't place it, you might if you looked longer but you had no courage left now. You were almost at the glassy door, he was watching you intently and you felt his gaze burn at your back.

" You like my brother quite very much." He startled you, you paused, heart beats echoing through your throat. It was like he was accusing you, almost jabbing his finger on your chest. What does that mean ?

" What could I say ? He's very amiable." You turned to smile at him, it trembled on your lips and Anthony scoffed slightly, mouth curving in disdain but it was gone as soon as it crossed his face. Damn you !

" Have a nice day sir." You closed the door behind you, covering your face as a muffled scream cut through your cartilage.

_

" Miss Edwina ?! " Benedict almost screamed as you narrowed your eye sternly at him, he lowered his voice in a whisper, ducking his head down towards you, " sorry but Miss Edwina ?! "

" I know, I know." You swigged another gulp of the dizzy bubbling liquid that will give you a terrible headache tommorow but right now, you just wanted this uneasiness feeling to go away.

" Didn't her scary sister vowed to ruin him or something like that ? " Benedict licked his thumb, eye's watering at the spice, you loved this place's Chole bhature very much, last time Benedict cried when he accidentally bited the green masala filled chilly.

" Yeah, she refused to take ahead the Mayfair deal, or something like that, not that it would ruin anything and—" You sighed, leaning back your head as the soft music tickled your senses.

" What ? " You heard his faint murmur.

" Well Anthony was right, as soon as our team announced his engagement, ofcourse not revealing the bride, he's well trending—"

" He's always trending." Benedict groaned, chugging water as his lips were swollen with spiced heat.

" Yes, but not for thirsty things, i meant that Aubreyton is trending and our shares are touching the sky and it's a whole profitable season ahead." You ended breathlessly, you stared at him for full second before both your eye's crinkled with smiles and laughter that came from your hearts, it lightened the air somehow as well as your heart.

" You do remember I am part of the executive board ? " Benedict tilted his head with a warm smile and you shaked your head, feeling tipsy.

" Like you do anything except torment me and poor Colin ! " You pouted, feeling your cheeks flush as Benedict threw his head back and laughed.

" Poor Colin ? " He cooed, " he's probably getting laid tonight." He added with a wink, you slapped his shoulder nervously.

" Penelope replied ? "

" Ofcourse, my dear little brother wrote a whole ass three page message, with a picture of all her books that too hardcover and first editions."

" Wow." You said, impressed, Colin was head over heels, it was only a matter of time since the dazzling author knew.

" And what of Miss Beckett ? " You wiggled your eyebrows like Benedict did when he teased you, he turned a beetroot red as he fumbled with the last contents of his glass.

" She refused for a live in relationship." He said, his face grew sad and you mentally winced for putting him there.

" Oh." You nodded, Sophia lived with her evil mother who liked to see her suffer and she was, afterall, too good of a girl.

" Benedict..." You whispered when he closed his eyes softly, hiding his face behind his palms.

" I am not crying." He was. He sniffed as a few heads turned towards the pair of you, many with sympathy, probably thinking you had refused to marry him or something.

" Hey, hey, hey..." You pulled yourself as you dizzily tripped over to his side, wrapping your arms around him as he melted in your embrace.

" She doesn't understand..." He said it so muffled that it was unable to make out what he said, but you understood it anyway.

" She will, she loves you so much." You kissed his head and he nodded, tears streaking your shirt as he finally emerged with red, sticky face and puppy bright eyes.

" I think i drank too much." He admitted, you nodded, feeling yourself floating too.

" Let's call a cab, we shouldn't drive." You suggested, fiddling with cash as you payed the bill, leaving good tip for the teenager waiter, who smiled kindly at every inner joke Benedict shot.

" Uh huh." He focused hard on his phone, sticking his tongue out like he did when he was really, really drunk and or just really, felt the need to, or he was about to do something stupid, which he did.

Twelve minutes later, Anthony bridgerton was standing outside the restaurant with a heavy frown and it was strange to see him in normal clothes, like that grey t-shirt felt odd yet gorgeous and those sweatpants, you were way too drunk, you realised.

" You'll make a fine gentleman." Anthony curted his mouth, his words dripped with sarcasm that you and Benedict were too drunk to catch on.

" Thankyou, the cab idea was mine." He said smugly, ducking out when you smacked his ass with your purse, Anthony watched with wide eyes.

" Liar." You jabbed at him, he started to giggle and stumbled, taking you along before Anthony grabbed you by the waist and pulled you away from him, Benedict winked at you when Anthony closed his eyes, frustration or whatever that dazed him, his touch was electrifying, like current jostling in water.

Anthony pulled away his arms from you, his eyes strained like it pained him just the same it hurt you.

" You are wasting my time brother, get in the car." He glared, " come." He said to you, his gaze softened but that could be alcohol, you weren't reliable narrator especially when it was Anthony bridgerton.

" Well you could have refused." Benedict ran and sprawled inside like a bear, covering the whole back seat with his wasted body.

" Yes well, I didn't come for y—" he clamped his mouth in a thin line, nerve twitching on his forehead as he breathed hard, eyeing you as you ran after Benedict's seat thievery, you opened the door and his head almost snapped when he looked up you, it was a nauseous enough to make you vomit.

" Move." You pulled his hair, in no hell you will sit in the front seat, not like you haven't, but you were drunk and you were angry and you hated Anthony and you wished so much to just, to just, just once, once just, kiss him hard, that's alcohol, bloody alcohol.

" Leave this idiot." Anthony was suddenly behind you, he touched your elbow with same electric touch, guiding you to the empty front seat as he opened the door, you could feel Benedict wiggling his eye, you will deal with this bastard later.

" I was thinking—" Benedict started, once Anthony started driving, he was shut real quick when Anthony glared with words.

" Stop thinking." Anthony rolled the steering wheel and you looked away, those veins taunted and lured you, it was maddening and the streets were much dull and undistracting.

Benedict giggled at something he probably said in his head, you chuckled when he burped, he did too, only Anthony didn't.

" Don't you have a date tommorow with Mr. Dorset ? " Benedict craned his neck to get a view of you, two Bridgerton's eyes were too much to take as you thought hard, well yes a date, with Mr. Dorset, yes, you did remember.

" Ofcourse." You said, Anthony drifted a turn that jerked your head forward and you would have got a concussion if it wasn't his big palm that came for rescue.

" Are you okay ? " He asked, slowing down the car as his fingers pushed you back until the back of your head was pressed against the seat.

" Yeah." You confirmed, nothing was more threatening than his touch. He should bloody know that.

" Are you okay ? " Benedict mimicked and you realised he was down there, squashed on the car floor, his face hidden somewhere.

Anthony ignored him as his expressions hardened, he was breathing hard as he worried his lips, thinking and thinking.

" You do know it might take all day." Anthony finally said and you cocked your head to his side, you were drunk and well, sleepy too.

" What ? Well, it's a dinner date." You assured, Mr. Dorset wasn't letting go and a Thai curry wouldn't hurt anyway.

" Yes well, it might be very late." He was frowning now, his eyes were on the road but he would glance between nano seconds.

" Really ? " You pouted, you were way too gone now, it didn't matter, Anthony's eyes stopped at your lips and when he looked up, something changed, like it must have changed a long ago but it's colours were only visible now, like moon hiding behind the clouds, beaming but not seen and when it's finally high, hanging at sky, you blinked, expecting it to be gone, like everything, but when you opened your eyes, it was still there, as clear as ever, shimmering at you. That's alcohol, bloody alcohol.

" Yes.." Anthony gulped hard, pulling at Benedict's apartment, how much he wanted sophie to built a home with him, soon, you thought, soon.

" Oi y/n, I think I found your lipstick." Benedict hopped up, his face had lines where because he didn't bother to get up once he had fallen, with a shade that you never used in your whole lifetime, Anthony looked away when you tried to catch his eyes.

" That's not mine." You said, feeling anger creep up your neck, not knowing why, it's not that you were the only one who sat in his car and ofcourse you weren't his girlfriend, you weren't his friend even, he was your boss, you were his assistant, that's it, that's fucking it, you really wanted to punch his face, that's bloody alcohol, you would never drink again.

" Benedict, my brother." Anthony took the lipstick away which Benedict was trying to apply on himself, " get the fuck out."

" Goodbye to you too brother." He leaned to smooch Anthony when he hastily pulled away, growling.

" Bye bye sweetheart." Benedict smooched your cheek then and his lips only touched your warm skin before Anthony pushed him back in the back seat, it was, kinda rough.

" You are drunk." He told Benedict who shrugged, blinking heavily.

"He always kissed me goodbye." You glared at Anthony, this freaking bastard, chew on your lipstick, Idiot. You leaned down to kiss Benedict's cheek and he giggled softly, eyes locked with Anthony, his wide bastard grin flashing, glittering as Anthony eye rolled.

When Benedict was dropped, it was your turn, Anthony stared ahead like a statue, you were suffering in your own head.

The silence became heavy in air as the music was either tragic or too loud for your head and Anthony sensed the discomfort, turning it off altogether.

" What are we going to do actually? Venue deciding or something." You finally spoke, remembering how much you stared and stared when the article popped up, Anthony bridgerton looking for a wife !! You remembered the qualification list, should be well spoken, should be linguistic, should want kids, should be family loving, should be this, should be that, should have good enough hips to bear a child like what ?!

You remembered days and days when he would have his appointments, yes appointments, most of times he was out within five minutes, a frown on his face.

" She doesn't know algebra." He said one time when he came out within two minutes and you shrugged, well algebra was hard afterall.

And now Miss Edwina had ended all your miseries and torture, no lists, no more algebra's and Collen Hoover's, nothing of that anymore, Anthony would be a husband soon and perhaps he would love her, or already love her, he was so determined even when Kate sharma threatened to cut deals with Aubreyton if didn't stop sending flowers, well that was your doing, sending flowers because it was your idea, but well, it didn't matter.

" Well not the venue, but wedding ring and wedding dresses, Mother say we match and cake tasting and flowers—" we.

" When's the wedding ? " You looked at him scornfully, Anthony's eyes lowered at you as he stopped the car.

" Next week." Fuck you Anthony!

" Shouldn't you decide that with Miss Edwina herself ? " You were glad, but you had this feeling that he would be taken away from you, once married, he might not be yours, he was never yours, but still, why not start now ?

He frowned like it wasn't the most sensible and obvious thing.

" I..." He hesitated, " Miss Edwina might not want to go, since the wedding is too near and also, to keep it a private engagement."

" Oh." You didn't get a thing, your mind wasn't working as Anthony leaned down to open your door, you freezed, only your heart thudded loudly, could he hear ? What he did to you, well it wouldn't surprise you if he knew and still chose to torture your poor soul. " Why not state it publicly ? "

" I can't deal with the fanfictions." He said in matter of factly way. " And paparazzi giving Edwina trouble." Don't say her name, don't.

" Fanfictions ?! " You laughed so loud that he actually stopped thinking whatever he was, and just looked at you, as if taking in every detail, savouring them, drinking every bit of you in, he looked like he was mesmerized but that was just alcohol, just your silly heart, just you, who had read all those one shots, about you and him, ofcourse you weren't going to admit it and ofcourse you would be quite dammed if you ever saw Anthony getting shipped with Edwina Sharma, they are getting married in a week idiot, yes, but not today, not now, later, when it was time, please, not now. Later, now he was yours.

" You have a good choice either way." He was, for no reason, walking you to your door, you remembered how Benedict was practically kicked out earlier, he would tease you so much if you were to ever tell him.

" Oh please." You chuckled, rubbing your hands together in the chilly air, " I gifted Benedict onesies on his birthday."

Anthony smiled, it didn't leave his face until he caught you staring and you noticed how different he looked, when those lines were of joy instead of worry, he looked young and his boyishness made your heart do cartwheels.

" That was just a joke." He amused, " wasn't it ? " His smile faltered when you shaked your head in a no, fumbling for you keys.

" It wasn't so bad." Anthony said, somewhat traumatised, " Benedict wore them anyway."

" It had penguins ! " You cringed at the memory, a drunkish Polaroid like, blurred and saturated, it was vivid but just like yesterday, Anthony didn't dance until you were both so drunk, perhaps he smiled back than too, and looked just as dazzling.

" You are good y/n." Anthony said sincerely, " stop being mean to yourself." You opened the door but your hands freezed at the doornob, why Anthony had to cut the right wires, why he had to upside down your whole world ?

" Well, same to you Anthony." You said, he lingered on the doorway more than he should, it was alcohol, it really, really was but no amount of gaslighting could blur the memory away, you always remembered how brave you were that night when you leaned down, one step not much, and placed a small, chaste kiss, just a brush of your lips against his blazing skin. A touch to his soul, it sparkled and rose and busted into a thousand orbs and sprinkled like glitters on you and him.

" Good night." You whispered, Anthony stared, too stunned to say anything, then he smiled, small and enchanting.

" Good night y/n." His smile stayed.