#rebs-doom | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mischievouslittlecreature · 3 months ago

Text

May or may not having paused working on an assignment just to read this after I saw the notif 🤭.

Tommy’s proposal to Agnese

Nooooooooo I knew it was coming but 😭😭😭 If they actually end up getting married I'm gonna bawl my eyes out.

Her mother looked at her as if a second nose had grown on her face.

Aw, it was sweet to see Maria reflecting on some of Nina's better qualities. It goes to prove that she thinks higher of her than Nina might expect. And she's right! Nina's an absolute catch!

I just wanted to give Nina the biggest hug through most of this chapter, her heartbreak is so painful to see; I just want her and Tommy to be happy! 😭

I want to take Stefano and Vito and set them on fire 😡. Leave her alone!

“I can be good to you, and you can be good to me. I’ll teach you how to be good to me.”

There's something about that final part that made me feel sick...ugh, you've done so well at making Stefano so sinister.

Had it started, perhaps, when she had insisted on studying? Was it her punishment for wanting more than she could have? More questions, still no answers. The worst thing was, she couldn’t see a way out.

Another parallel with Tommy that I love! They both in different ways feel punished by their ambitions and need to aim higher and higher.

Ahhhh I love jealous Tommy. His little hissy fit over her dancing with Stefano was a delight to see 🤭.

Nina gently stroked his cheek. “We never had a chance,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m not worth starting a war over.”

Reb, why must you make me cry? 😭😭😭 I love them both so much, it's tearing me up having to watch them be so unhappy and doomed. I genuinely have no idea how they are gonna manage to get out of this and be able to be together 🥺. (Also Nina is 100% worth starting a war over. I'd fight for her, that's for damn sure! 🤭).

Your smut continues to blow my mind! It's amazing! And you really captured how raw and desperate they both feel for each other. They're so in love, it makes my heart ache!

I'm glad that he now knows she still wants him and was lying about not caring about him. Maybe that'll give him the kick he needs to get that mind of his working on a possible solution for everything.

Gahhhh I hope so badly that they have a happy ending! 🥺 This part was fantastic (as always) Reb! 🖤🖤🖤

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART XI

Summary: the situation complicates further as Tommy’s stay in Sicily nears its end. It’s time for conversations, and things that have been buried for too long are brought to the light.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, references to past attempted assault, harassment, violence, angst, English is not my first language. This chapter is 18+, smut (I’m still not used to writing it but here we go). This is set between season 1 and 2.

Like in some previous chapters, some conversations are supposed to be in Italian but for obvious reasons I kept them in English.

A/N: sorry this is really long. I hope it makes up for the wait!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dividers credits

Tommy’s proposal to Agnese had brought quite the hustle in the Ferrante’s property. A stream of relatives and friends had been coming to congratulate the new couple in the past few days, and people continuously came and went to make the arrangements for the wedding - or simply pry in the family business. And with the engagement party being held that night, it was impossible for Nina to step out of the house without bumping into some caterer or seamstress or, if she was particularly unlucky, some cantankerous old aunt who would stray away from her as if she were the Devil incarnated.

Her mood, which was already dark to begin with, had considerably worsened, forcing her to withdraw into isolation to avoid all possible conflict. She was easily irritated, she couldn’t stand her mother’s complaints, her father’s deceitfulness, her brothers’ haughtiness, and she couldn’t help herself from talking back or snapping when something bothered her. She could tell they were fed up with her insolence, that she was treading on thin ice, but she drew a twisted satisfaction from getting on their nerves. It was the only way she had to get back at them for the hell they were putting her through. Her role in the family, the impossibility of being something more than she was expected to be, the threat of a forced marriage with Stefano that was becoming less of a prospect and more of a certainty with each day that passed. And now that. Having to watch as the marriage between Tommy and Agnese took form, pretending with her cousin she was genuinely happy for her.

It was tearing her apart from the inside. At this point, Nina couldn’t wait for them to get married, so that Tommy would leave her house, her country, and set her free from the deep ache she felt every time he was near. It would be difficult, at first, but in time she’d forget about him, about the way he made her heart race, about how safe she felt in his arms.

“I’m going over to aunt Rita,” her mother hastily walked into the kitchen, holding a sewing box in her hands. “I’m helping her embroider the bedsheets for the trousseau.”

“Mhm.” Nina merely raised her eyes from the book she was pretending to read. Hearing about bedsheets and trousseaus was the last thing she needed in that moment, especially if it had to become yet another excuse to reproach her for not having the intention to get married anytime soon.

All of a sudden the book was soon snatched from her hands. When she raised her gaze, her mother was looking at her with a stern look on her face.

“Your friend has been invited to the party,” she said bitterly, as though the matter was somehow her daughter’s fault.

Nina’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach. It didn’t take a genius to understand who said friend was.

“The whole Spinietta family has been invited,” Maria went on, slamming the book on the table.

She swallowed harshly, the implications of that gesture rapidly sinking in. “Are you serious?”

“I warned you,” her mother pointed a finger at her. “If you had listened to me, maybe it would’ve been Angelo, not him.”

Nina rolled her eyes. Again with her friend’s son. What did she want, to put a death sentence on the poor man? She grabbed the cup of tea that had grown cold in front of her, and got up to pour its content in the sink.

“Did I tell you he’s a teacher?” Maria started again. “I bet he acts all intellectual just like you.”

“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll intellectualise away from me. Unless he wants to get on the Spiniettas’ bad side, that is. Or dad’s.” She started to aggressively scrub the cup, taking out her anger on the fragile item. “And who says he’d be interested in me anyway?”

Her mother looked at her as if a second nose had grown on her face. Despite her unusual behaviour, Nina carried herself well, looked nice, had an education that most girls could only dream of. Her Italian was outstandingly clean, almost devoid of dialectal influences, and clear. Her brain worked incessantly, she had complex thoughts, and it was often difficult to keep up with her. Not to mention how she managed to give even men twice her age a hard time with the sole power of her words.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Maybe he’d find me ugly,” Nina shrugged, “or stupid.”

“You’re my daughter, you can’t be ugly or stupid.”

Nina let out a sigh, drying her hands on a towel. There was no point in arguing. In those situations, it was better to let her mum vent until she got tired of talking with a stone wall and gave up.

Maria dropped the sewing box on the table with a thud. Once she had her daughter’s attention back in her, she started speaking again, a grave expression on her face. “I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in. If your father says yes to Stefano, then he won’t be able to say no anymore,” she said lowly. “You need to act before he says yes.”

“He can’t force me.”

If her father really decided to go through with it, she’d drop the bomb on him that she wasn’t a virgin anymore. Maybe she could do it in front of Stefano, for the pleasure of watching his smug grin disappear from his face. Would she be irremediably deemed as a whore? Yes. Would she bring shame upon her whole family? Absolutely. It would still be better than being Spinietta’s wife.

“You can’t change my mind on this, mum,” she concluded in a tone that didn’t leave any room for discussion.

Her didn’t mother didn’t reply, but the disapproval was clear on her face.

“You know what?” Maria picked up the box from the table again and put it under her arm with a nervous gesture. “I don’t care. Do what you want,” she said sharply, leaving the kitchen.

As soon as she heard the front door closing, Nina exhaled deeply. That was another issue she’d have to deal with, apparently. She wasn’t sure her mother would give up so easily, and she was scared she’d try to act behind her back like her father was.

Her father. Her blood boiled in her veins as her mind went back to the reason why the argument she had just gotten out of had started in the first place. It was time to talk to him, to make it clear that she would never accept to marry that bastard, that she didn’t need time to decide cause she had already made up her mind. The sooner they had that conversation, the sooner all that would end. Hopefully.

Animated by a fiery resolution, Nina strode through the house with large, quick steps. She didn’t pay attention to her brothers, who were heading to the kitchen to have breakfast, nor to Tommy, who was waiting in the large hallway for her father to let him in, and was now looking at her with a puzzled look on his face.

She stormed in her father office, slamming the door behind her. He raised his head from the papers he was signing, looking at her questioningly, but not without a hint of reproach for bursting into his private room without even knocking.

“What does this mean?” Her voice came out more high-pitched than she intended. She stopped in front of the dark wooden desk, forcing him to pay attention to her.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Her father leaned back in his chair, rolling his cigar between his fingers, keeping his oblivious facade. A new wave of rage ran through Nina, but she was careful to contain it. “You invited the Spinietta family to the engagement party,” she explained through gritted teeth.

Unimpressed by her accusations, he stubbed out his cigar, then folded is hands on his lap. “The Spiniettas are close friends of ours,” he said calmly.

“Right,” she let out a humourless laugh. “You became pretty close over the last month.”

“Business is growing.”

“Ah,” she nodded, raising her eyebrows. “Business.”

Her father clenched his jaw, and from the way his shoulders had stiffened she could tell he knew exactly where the conversation was going. And that he didn’t like her mocking tone.

“Is there a problem, Nina?”

“You tell me. Is there something going on that could be a problem for me?”

She wanted to hear it from him. She wanted him to admit it out loud. She was tired of being treated like she was crazy, like she was imagining things. She wanted honesty.

Vincenzo pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as if hit by a sudden headache. “I need to talk to Mr Shelby, can we-”

“You’re talking to me,” Nina said firmly, raising her voice.

Her father straightened his back, leaning with his elbows on the wooden surface in front of him. He fixed his gaze on her, his features hardening with austerity. “Mind how you speak to me, I’m your father,” he warned her.

“So I should stay quiet while you make decisions about my life,” she spat out. The way he was trying to impose his authority on her just because he had no arguments to defend himself made her stomach churn.

“I’m not making decisions.”

“You are,” she slammed a hand on the the desk. “Do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Her father reached his hand out, keeping his voice still low. “Calm down.”

“I will not calm down!”

Ferrante took a deep breath, raising from his chair to properly speak to his daughter. If there was one thing he didn’t tolerate, it was disrespect, but getting angry wouldn’t work, not now, at least. It would only make Nina more stubborn. If he wanted her to listen to him, he needed to get his point across nicely.

“What do you want to do with your life?” he asked her, apparently changing the subject.

Nina furrowed her brows, taken aback by his question. She could sense he was trying to direct the conversation somewhere, and she was quick to pull herself together.

“I want to study,” she said steadily.

“You’ve finished school,” he countered.

“There’s university.”

“Women don’t go to university.”

Nina squinted her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Then I want to work.”

“Poor women need to work. Do you want to ruin your hands in a factory?”

A glimpse of irony flashed across his face. Once again, his purpose seemed to be to make her feel stupid, or naive, like she had no idea how the world worked. The thing was, he was right, to some extent. Nina had little experience, she didn’t know everything. But there were things she knew, things she didn’t like, and she wasn’t going to accept them just because that was how life was.

Vincenzo walked around his desk to approach her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his expression softening. “I’m only worried about you,” he said. “About what your life will be like if you go on like this.”

“It’s my life, dad,” she whispered, feeling the tears well up in her eyes against her will. “Maybe you’re right, and I’m ruining myself with my own hands. But the choice is mine to make.”

Despite everything, she thought she could make him understand. There had to be a way to get through him, to make him see, she didn’t want to ruin the bond they had always had. Because she would make her own decisions either way, and she wished for him to support her. She needed him to support her.

“You’re my daughter. I can’t stand back and watch you do that to yourself,” he shook her slightly. “Let go of these fantasies, Nina. Real life is something else.”

Of course. How stupid of her to imagine that he could even try to understand. She shrugged his hands off, forcing back her tears. “You’re wrong.”

Her father nodded to himself, taking a step back. “We’ll see,” he simply said. “As for Stefano, I told you already. The choice is up to you, I’m not forcing you to do anything,” he reassured her, but his condescending tone had the opposite effect.

“You’re not forcing me to do anything, but that son of a bitch is always around.”

“Language.”

Nina scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. He didn’t see the point. He didn’t want to see the point. He only cared about business, about power. Why was she wasting her time?

She made her way towards the door, but she stopped in her tracks when her hand grabbed the handle. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke again, but she didn’t around to look at him.

“You’re making a mistake.”

Tommy watched as Nina strode out of Ferrante’s study with a face like thunder. He had heard the screams, but he hadn’t been able to make out what the fuss was about, the long sequence of Italian sentences unfamiliar to him.

Those kinds of arguments had happened frequently, over the last three days. Nina had become unmanageable - not that she had ever been the manageable type. But she had gotten worse. If someone so much as glanced at her the wrong way or said one word too many, she’d turn it into an excuse to fight. She was sensitive, and snappish, and she seemed to have lost the ability to put on her mask of coolness and indifference. As a way to heal his wounded ego, which still burned from the things she had said to him, he told himself it was a good thing she had rejected him. If she had the gall to talk back to her father like that, there was no doubt she’d act even worse with her husband, and he had enough headaches already. And for sure, he would’ve never wanted to be at the receiving hand of her temper.

Nina stopped in front of him, recollecting herself, and Tommy couldn’t not notice she radiated the same frigidity as when they had met for the first time. “My father wants to see you, Mr Shelby,” she said coldly.

Ah, now she called him Mr Shelby. As if she hadn’t been whimpering his name in his ear a few nights before.

“I think we’re way past the formalities, sweetheart.”

His remark was enough to make her falter. She blinked up at him, shocked by his bluntness.

“Way past,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“Will you lower your voice?” she hissed, taking a look around to make sure no one was near.

Tommy held back a smirk at her flustered state. Her usual frown had deepened, and a tinge of red had crept up her cheeks. Had the situation between them been different, he would’ve gladly went on. He had to remind himself he wasn’t in the position to tease her anymore. Nina had said it very clearly, she didn’t care about him. What had happened between them had been a mistake, she regretted it. She regretted him.

Then why were her eyes telling a different story?

Nina huffed, tucking a rebel strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s waiting for you,” she murmured.

Her arm brushed against his as she walked past him, sending a spark of electricity through his whole body. Leaving him wondering when he had gotten to the point where the slightest contact threatened to make his self-control crumble.

Nina examined her figure in the mirror, a niggling uneasiness taking over her. She wasn’t used to doll herself up like that. She had put on a beautiful dress for the occasion, done her makeup, managed to tame her long hair, and she had half-hoped she would be happy with the result once she was done. However, in her silk dress, in her makeup, with her hair away from her face, Nina felt like a fraud. Ridiculous, even.

She had always been the ugly duckling of the brood. When her cousins had started to bloom into beautiful women, she was still all elbows and knees, drawing the petty comments of her aunts, poorly hidden behind harmless jokes. She remembered all too well the embarrassment she felt every time they pointed out her flat chest, joking about how if she cut her hair she could be mistaken for a boy. She was ashamed to admit that even though she wasn’t that gawky kid anymore, those words had stuck with her. She tried to convince herself she didn’t care about being pretty, that her mind was her primary concern, but the truth was, sometimes she wanted to feel pretty.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself and just pretend, she told herself, straightening her back. It was a little exercise she had trained herself to do over the years. Head high, impassive face, don’t let them get to you, act like you know exactly what you want, walk like you know exactly where you’re going. It worked, most of the times. Maybe if she pretended long enough one day she’d be able to convince herself as well.

Once ready, she crossed the upstairs floor of the house, reaching the separate corridor in which her parents’ bedroom was located. Her mother was standing in front of a full-length mirror, fixing some pins in her hair. Nina leaned against the doorframe, and allowed herself to stay in her company for a while.

Out of the comfortable clothes she used to wear, out of the kitchen, out of the restraints of her role as a wife and a mother doomed to annihilate herself, she looked years younger. The dress she was wearing was modest, elegant, and the dark blue shade perfectly complimented her complexion. The shadow of a rare genuine smile grew on her face as she put on her pearl earrings, mixed with an emotion Nina couldn’t quite recognise. She could almost swear there were tears in her eyes. Nina realised she didn’t even remember the last time she had seen her mother taking care of her appearance like that, and that finally having the chance to do it must be a source of melancholy as well as joy. Was that what a life dedicated to the care of a whole family had done to her? Had she forgotten herself to that degree?

“What are you looking at?” Maria asked gruffly, glancing at her daughter through the mirror.

How sweet. Nina pursed her lips to hide a sly grin, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Nothing.”

Her mother frowned, smoothing down her dress, then she turned around to face her. She looked at the ground for a moment, then back at Nina, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. “How do I look?”

A pang of sorrow spread in Nina’s chest at the thought that her mother might feel anything else but beautiful. “Stunning, mum,” she said truthfully.

“Is this too much?”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s perfect.”

The older woman turned to the mirror again, her features softening. “Go downstairs, tell your father I’m almost ready.”

Reluctantly, Nina mustered up the courage to get out of her hiding, mechanical step after mechanical step, like a man facing the gallows. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to feel her relatives’ judgmental stares on her. She didn’t want to see Stefano. She didn’t want to watch Tommy and Agnese be officially presented as a couple. Husband and wife. It made her feel sick. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Tommy standing on top of the staircase, checking the time on his pocket watch, handsome in his formal attire.

His head shot up upon hearing the sound of her footsteps, and for a while it felt like the whole world had stopped turning just for him to have that moment. That moment to look at her, to take in the sight of her in her long, light blue dress that enhanced her tanned skin; with her ebony hair pinned up, exposing her delicate neck and cleavage, instead of hiding her as usual.

“You…” Tommy’s breath hitched in his throat, his mouth dry. You’re beautiful.

He didn’t dare say it.

“Hi,” Nina murmured, fidgeting with her own fingers. She had no idea of what to do or say. Standing there and staring at him like an idiot was clearly not an option, so she decided to approach the stairs. But one look at the long series of steps was enough for her to understand that there was no way she could descend it in her heels without making a fool of herself. Had she been alone, she would’ve gripped the railing like her life depended on it and ungracefully stomped her way down.

As if he had read her mind, Tommy offered her his arm without uttering a single word. He limited himself to peering at her, his gaze indecipherable, intense. Nina accepted his help, trying not to think about how natural it felt to have her hand in the crook of his elbow as they climbed down the stairs. Her legs were shaking, probably not because of the shoes, and she just hoped she wouldn’t trip over her feet and ruinously fall on her face. When she walked down the last step, she realised she had been holding her breath the whole time.

“Thank you,” she whispered, letting go of his arm.

Tommy nodded, taking a step back.

He needed a drink - or possibly two or three - to give him the strength to get through the night. Now more than ever he felt like he was putting handcuffs around his wrists rather than a ring on his finger. He had been telling himself that everything was going reasonably well, that following the plan which had been made over a month before was the best thing to do. He was going to marry the woman they had chosen for him, a beautiful woman, who would make him look good. Agnese was sweet, and gentle. She would take care of the house, of him, give him children. He would have a good life with her. She would bring him peace, turn his house into a safe place away from the wickedness of his business.

Nina would’ve brought him the storm. With her, a life of confrontation, of compromise, maybe even conflict would’ve awaited him. He would’ve had to answer to her, to accept her sharp edges and the sides of her that weren’t easy to deal with.

No, he was lying to himself. Confrontation, compromise, conflict had been his daily bread since he was a kid. His restless nature had never cared for peace. His skin was thick enough not to get cut on her edges. And pain had never scared him anyway. But that didn’t matter. The wedding would be in two weeks, then he would leave that place behind. Leave Nina behind. He’d forget about her like he had forgotten about Grace. He had done it once, he could do it again. Even if he’d prefer to rip his heart out of his chest.

For the engagement party, Agnese’s family had chosen to celebrate in the garden that surrounded the two houses. Everything had been planned with the outmost care: there were tables, flowers, candles, waiters balancing trays of champagne, musicians playing mesmerising tunes. A whole team of chefs had been hired for the delicious dinner. Nina had been pleased to find out that she wouldn’t have to share the table with Stefano, this time, who had sat with his family and other guests far away from her. Nevertheless, she had barely touched her food. Her stomach was still twisted from the events of the day. Now she was standing aside, watching as some couples gathered to dance. Including Tommy and Agnese.

They were both beautiful. Exceptionally so. Agnese was radiant in her ivory dress, she glowed with the happiness of a girl who was about to see all her dreams come true. Tommy held her in his arms with great gentleness as they swayed to the rhythm, and despite the vicious bites of jealousy, Nina was unable to look away. He’d fall in love with Agnese, of that she was sure. Her cousin was stunning, and sweet, and caring, all things Nina was not. Tommy would fall in love with Agnese and realise how blind he had been for ever setting his eyes on someone like her.

A tall figure came to stand by her side, and she was engulfed by the smell of a strong cologne mixed with cigar smoke. The man exuded an aura of power, dominance, along with a calm that was nothing more than a cover for something far more dangerous, unpredictable. Vito Spinietta. Her body tensed, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. Sending him a sideways glance, she was met with his calculating gaze. He was inspecting her, assessing her, searching for any weak point as though he could read into her.

“Good evening,” he said, not taking his eyes off her.

“Good evening.”

A heavy silence followed. Nina wasn’t a fool, she was aware that if Stefano’s brother had taken the trouble to go speak to her it wasn’t to make small talk. The heir to the Spinietta empire was too practical a man to waste his time on pleasantries, and certainly wasn’t there for the pleasure of her company.

“I know there’s no point beating around the bush with you,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “So I’ll be direct. I’m here on behalf of my brother.”

Nina tilted her head in amusement. Had it really become a family matter? Had a no on her part caused such commotion?

“Stefano’s a good guy,” he announced solemnly. “It’s just that sometimes he acts the wrong way.”

Nina had to hold back a dismissive laugh at his statement. A good guy. It was almost as pathetic as the excuse he had made up for his behaviour.

“What am I supposed to do with this information?”

“He cares about you.”

“So you’ve taken it upon yourself to play Cupid,” she said bitterly, with a little edge of sarcasm, earning herself a stern look. “It doesn’t suit you,” she shook her head, mocking him behind an expression that was meant to feign innocent honesty.

Vito raised his chin, reacting with silence to her insolent replies. “It would be good to unite the families, considering the circumstances,” he said instead. “And a rejection could be seen as…” he paused, searching her face. “An offence.”

His words had Nina knitting her eyebrows in a frown. He had pronounced them in an ambiguous, vague way, but she hadn’t missed the gloomy undertone. “Is this a threat?”

“What do you take me for?” he asked, clearly just pretending to be offended. “I’d never threaten a woman.”

He was playing the card of the man of honour. As if he and his brother hadn’t done even worse to the girls of the town. She had to say something now. Too long had she let Stefano scare her, she wouldn’t make the same mistake with Vito. The Spiniettas weren’t the only ones who got power, she came from a tough family as well, and she would no longer forget who she was.

“Listen,” she started, turning to properly look at him. “I’m not scared of you, or your brother, or your threats.”

Vito clenched his jaw, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

Nina took a step towards him, further decreasing the already short distance between them. “You two think you can do as you please because I am a woman?” she narrowed her eyes. “Think again. Cause one word from me and you’ll see your whole organisation fall around your ears.”

“Is this a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Nina wanted to see his mask slip. She wanted him to reveal himself, like Stefano had revealed himself not so long ago, when he had put his hands on her in her own house. She wanted him to give her a reason to draw her knife on him, there, in front of everyone. But Vito wasn’t Stefano. It would take a lot more to make him lose his composure.

Vito took a step back, observing her. He could see why his brother was so adamant on having her. Stefano had always loved a good challenge. He didn’t want someone obedient by nature, someone who would listen to his every command. He wanted someone difficult, someone he could take his time to bend. Or break. It would’ve taken way more than a few slaps to break that one.

Their conversation came to an end when Stefano walked up to Nina, holding out his hand to her. “Wanna dance?”

Nina took a look around. Her situation hadn’t gone unnoticed: most of the guests had been peering at her and Vito, trying to figure out what was going on, and now that Stefano had entered the picture, they were sending them subtle glances, waiting to see if Nina would’ve accepted his invitation. Her first instinct was to say no, but leaving him there in front of everyone would cause quite the stir, and surely take the attention away from the new couple. That was Agnese’s night, and she didn’t have the right to ruin it for her. Not after what she had already done. So she placed her hand in his, and unwillingly let him lead her to the dance floor.

His hand was light on her waist as he lead the dance, yet that contact felt heavy, violent. It made her skin crawl. She focused on the ground behind his shoulders, trying to ignore the weight of people’s stares on them. She was afraid to raise her head and find out Tommy was watching too.

It didn’t take her long to detach herself from her surroundings. She didn’t hear the music, she didn’t see the couples dancing around them, she was only uncomfortably aware of Stefano’s proximity, of the heat of his body, of the burning marks his hands seemed to leave into her flesh. He had the predatory eyes of a raptor as he scrutinised the uncovered parts of her body, taking on the appearance of a beast waiting for the right moment to bite.

“I love you, Nina,” he whispered in her ear, his tone pleading. “I want to make you happy. I want to give you everything.”

Nina could read it on his face. He did think he loved her, he was truly convinced that his sick obsession was love. It’s wasn’t merely a matter of wounded ego, he was sincerely hurt in his own, twisted way. And that was something that could potentially make him even more dangerous. A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself not to shy away, and she let him speak without interrupting him.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes with you, and I want to fix them. Let me make it right.” His arm tightened around her as he brought her even closer. “I can be good to you.” There was desperation now in his voice. Nina tried to put some distance between them, but he didn’t let her. “I can be good to you, and you can be good to me. I’ll teach you how to be good to me.” His fingers curled around her hand in a painful grip. “Think about what we could be together. Say yes.”

Nina squeezed her eyes, overwhelmed by his insistent touch, his urgent words; disgusted by the image of them living in the same house that had forced itself into her mind; repulsed by his eagerness to mould her.

The music ended, bringing them back to reality. Nina was relieved to be able to pull away from Stefano, whose grip had finally loosened. He was out of his mind if he thought she could ever forget what he had done to her. A wave of rage ran through her, but she was careful not to let it show. Straightening her back, she looked him dead in the eyes, and just one word left her mouth.

“No.”

Stefano’s face fell, disappointment and anger battling in his irises, and his fist clenched by his side. However, Nina didn’t stay there to wait for a reaction. She turned on her heels and walked away from him, from the dance floor, from the crowd of nosy guests. Her inner turmoil grew with every step, and her state of panic was such that she didn’t even realise she had entered her house. With an irritated huff, she hastily fumbled with her impractical shoes and left them at the entrance, then sought refuge in her bedroom.

She took some deep breaths, rubbing her face. It felt like the more she tried to fix things, the more she made them worse, and there was no way out of that endless cycle. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to act? Who was she supposed to beg to drag her out of that situation? Because it was becoming clearer and clearer that she wouldn’t be able to make it by herself. When had things taken that turn? Had there been a mistake, a single, fateful mistake she had made that had caused all of that? Or was it someone else’s fault? Or was it no one’s fault?

Too many questions, not enough answers. Racking her brains to find a pattern, to put order to the events was useless. They were too tangled, too intricate. It hadn’t started when she had made love with Tommy, nor when he had kissed her, nor when he had appeared in her life. It hadn’t even started when she had pointed a knife at Stefano’s throat, nor when she had let him get close to her all those years ago at school. Had it started, perhaps, when she had insisted on studying? Was it her punishment for wanting more than she could have? More questions, still no answers. The worst thing was, she couldn’t see a way out.

There was a soft knocking on the open door, and when Nina turned around Tommy was there. He looked exhausted, as if the evening had drained him of all his energy. It was unusual to see him like that, he wasn’t the kind of man who let his distress show. For the first time, she realised how much the whole marriage situation had taken a toll on him.

If the reasonable part of her wanted him to leave, the other - the one she seemingly had no control over - needed him close to her. It was absurd how reassuring his presence felt. Maybe that was what had drawn her to him in the first place. When everything around her was swirling, when there was nothing certain or reliable, Tommy was stable, solid. Something to hold on to.

Nina forced those thoughts away. She was losing her mind. Tommy was the least stable thing in her life. He wasn’t there to stay, he would leave in two weeks time and she would never see him again, except for a few occasions, like Christmas or maybe weddings. Indulging in that kind of fantasy would only make things harder.

“Is this your plan?” Tommy suddenly asked, a hint of accusation leaking out of his neutral tone. “Say yes to Spinietta?”

Nina felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her, and her musings disappeared to give way to pure surprise. “What?” she asked in disbelief, widening her eyes.

“You heard me.”

“That’s ridiculous, I’d never do that.”

“Is that why you were dancing with him?” he raised his eyebrows, pointing at the door with his finger, as if Stefano were outside the room.

Nina shook her head, still not believing they were actually having that conversation. “You shouldn’t mix whiskey with champagne,” she said dryly, her voice coming out harsher than she had intended. But Tommy didn’t seem fazed by it.

“You looked rather intimate,” he noted with a touch of contempt, too upset to realise how preposterous his assumptions sounded.

Nina’s mouth fell agape. She hadn’t missed the inflection in his voice. Was he… jealous? She squinted her eyes, taking a step towards him. “What’s this?” she inquired.

Her question seemed to catch him off guard. He wavered, and an emotion difficult to define flashed across his features. It was more than simply pain. It was like all the resentment Tommy had harboured since that fateful afternoon was flowing out, inexorable, making him unable to think with a clear mind. Biting back was the only way he had to protect the feelings he had foolishly let show. Guilt ate at her stomach at the sight, and she had to remind herself she had done what she had done for him, before anyone else.

As if finally coming back to himself, Tommy clenched his jaw, and took on his usual, impassive expression. “I can’t believe you,” he murmured. “After everything he’s done to you.”

Nina nervously fidgeted with her fingers, not knowing how to make him see that he couldn’t be more wrong. Did he think so little of her? “I’m not..” she trailed off, torn between her sense of guilt and her pride. The latter took the upper hand. She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have no right to lecture me.”

“True,” he nodded. “I have no right. Cause what happened between us was a mistake and you don’t care about me.”

That was the point. That had always been the point. Tommy thought she had cruelly played him, maybe even used him, just to discard him when she didn’t want him anymore. She exhaled deeply, not meeting his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s not like that,” he let out a humourless chuckle. “You said it, you’re taking it back now?”

“Stop it.”

“Eh?” Tommy’s voice raised, overlapping hers. “Are you taking it back?”

“I said stop.”

“You said-”

“I lied!” she snapped.

A tense silence fell in the room. Tommy blinked, and all the bitterness faded from his features. “Wha… what?” he stuttered, a confused frown forming on his face.

Nina didn’t regret her admission. She was so tired of pretending, of lying, of hurting him, and saying it out loud lifted a weight off her shoulders.

“I lied,” she repeated, more softly. “I never meant to hurt you. I…” her voice cracked. “I did it to protect you. To protect both of us.” There was no going back now. Her walls had been breached, and the words she had fought hard to keep to herself were leaving her lips before she had the chance to measure them. “Do you have any idea how much we’re risking? I’m risking? We talked about it, I told you how these things work.”

Tentatively, Tommy broke the distance between them, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up. “Is this what you’re scared of?” he asked incredulous, searching her face frantically, his frown deepening. “I’d never let anything bad happen to you. I’d never let anyone lay a fucking finger on you. You hear me?”

Nina believed him. He would stand between her and harm’s way without a second thought. But that was the problem. She took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over it before pulling it away from her face. “And what about you?”

“What?”

“Do you really think you could’ve changed your mind? That they would let you, at that point? You made your decision when you started courting Agnese.”

“Maybe they would’ve understood-”

“No. Her father would’ve wanted your head for humiliating his daughter. The deal would’ve been off and you would’ve been six feet underground in a matter of hours.”

And I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because of me, she wanted to add.

Tommy didn’t reply, but the pain in his eyes spoke for him. He knew she was right.

Nina gently stroked his cheek. “We never had a chance,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m not worth starting a war over.”

Tommy squeezed his eyelids, shaking his head as if to chase that unbearable thought away. Then, impetuously, he kicked the door shut and crushed his lips against hers. The force of the kiss knocked Nina’s breath out of her lungs, but she was quick to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies together.

Tommy backed her towards the dresser behind her, then he hoisted her up in his strong arms and sat her on it. A groan left his lips when Nina hooked a leg around him, bringing him even closer. His hands roamed down to her hips, gripping, squeezing, his tongue exploring her sweet mouth. He relished her warmth, her scent, her soft hands caressing his face, trying to imprint every little feeling into his memory. He wanted her, in the most raw, primal way. Because it was the only way he had to have her. Or at least, to delude himself he did. She was like water in his hands, she slipped through his fingers again and again, never letting him hold her, never letting him keep her. But with his fingers digging in her skin, she almost seemed real.

Pulling away to catch his breath, Tommy dropped his forehead into her neck, grabbing her waist. “You’re killing me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You’re fucking killing me.”

Tears began to stream down Nina’s cheeks. She felt like the worst person alive. She was causing so much pain, to him, to herself. She gently stroked the back of his head, sniffling. “You should go,” she compelled herself to say, although in that moment she wanted nothing more than for him to stay. “They’ll notice your absence.”

“They’re all drunk, they won’t,” he contradicted her.

“Agnese will.”

“She’s with her sisters.”

“But-”

Tommy’s head shot up to look at her, silencing her with his icy glare. “Fuck them,” he husked, wiping away her tears.

Fuck them.

Their mouths collided again. Blood rushed through Nina’s veins as Tommy kissed her hungrily. She could feel him everywhere, she was completely enveloped by him, by his smell of soap, whiskey and cigarettes, by the feeling of his rough hands, and yet she wanted more. She wanted to crumble and be brought into a new existence, to melt in his arms and become one heart, one body, one soul.

They only parted so she could help Tommy get free of his jacket. He was back on her right away, leaving a trail of kisses from her neck down to her chest, his teeth grazing the soft skin from time to time, making goosebumps ripple down her skin. He impatiently lifted her dress, fingers brushing against her smooth legs. More free to move, Nina allowed him more space, and her insides clenched with desire when she felt the bulge in his trousers against her.

Tommy’s hand ghosted over her clothed sex, making her squirm in anticipation. “Tommy,” she moaned, urging him to touch her where she needed the most. Pushing her underwear to the side, he slid two digits into her wet entrance, coaxing a sinful, beautiful sound out of her lips. Nina held onto his shoulders as he started to move his fingers, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Look at me,” Tommy commanded, cupping her chin with his free hand. Her eyelids fluttered open, showing him her glossy eyes filled with pleasure, causing his cock to painfully twitch.

He pumped his fingers in and out of her, working her open, eliciting small gasps from her that threatened to make him lose his mind. His thumb went to stroke her clit, the unexpected motion making her yelp.

Fuck, she was so beautiful.

“Tommy, please…” she whispered, clutching the soft material of his shirt. “I need you.”

She didn’t need to say it twice. Wasting no time, Tommy slid his fingers out of her to get rid of her knickers, discarding them somewhere on the floor, then fumbled with his trousers, finally freeing himself from all restraints. He grabbed Nina’s thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the dresser so he could position himself between her folds, then he entered her with one swift thrust, burying himself inside of her. Nina hid her face in his shoulder, one hand coming to cup the nape of his neck, the other clutching the fabric of his shirt. Tommy began to rock his hips, firmly yet slowly, giving her the time to adjust to the feeling of him stretching her walls.

Nina clung onto him as if he could shield her from the unknown, as if he were a shelter, a place where she could forget, even for a moment, the uncertain future that awaited her. A future she tried to escape from, but the more she ran, the more she found it on her heels, ready to catch her, to drag her into the darkness that had been threatening her for years.

Tommy’s pace quickened, becoming more desperate, almost brutal, arms wrapped around her waist, bringing every inch of their bodies together. Nina was surprised to find that was exactly what she needed in that moment. It kept her anchored to him and only him.

“You feel so good,” Tommy growled, digging his fingers in her flesh, and her cheeks burned at his words.

He set a merciless rhythm, pounding into her with sharp thrusts. Nina barely recognised the sounds that were coming out of her, but she was too lost in her pleasure to be worried about them. Breath hitched in her throat when he reached a particular spot that made her see stars, and he hit it again and again, drawing shaky whimpers out of her. With each minute that passed she felt closer and closer to her release, and Tommy must’ve been aware of that too. She let out a strangled noise when he brought a finger to her swollen clit, the fire in her abdomen too much to bear.

“C’mon, love,” he rasped. “Cum for me.”

He drew small circles on her sensitive bud, pushing her over the edge. Her walls fluttered around his cock, shockwaves gripping her body as she came undone. Tommy kept on thrusting into her, hips ruthlessly snapping as he chased his climax, until with a last, powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside of her, grunting in her ear.

For a while, neither of them moved. They stayed in each other’s embrace, panting, savouring that ephemeral semblance of peace. Nina nuzzled her cheek against his, the comforting scent of his aftershave filling her nostrils. Neither of them seemed to intend to let go first.

God, she didn’t want to let him go. Before she could control them, tears filled Nina’s eyes again, and she tried her best to prevent them from falling. Why did it have to be so hard? Why did she have to fall for the one man she could never have? Why did her happiness have to cause so much damage? The most irrational part of it was that despite all of that, being in his arms felt like the rightest thing in the world. They perfectly moulded together like they had been created just fit into each other’s arms, to fill each other’s voids. Nothing she had ever felt could compare to it.

Eventually, they moved apart. They fixed their clothes in silence, pulling themselves together as best they could. Not that Nina cared at all. There was no way she was going back to the party. No one would notice anyway.

“Go,” she whispered, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on his forehead. “They must be looking for you.”

Tommy gently cradled the back of her head, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll come to you later,” he promised.

Nina nodded, forcing herself to smile. But tears started flowing as soon as she watched him walk out the door.

Heart, Body and Sould tag list

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @outlanderuniverse @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

@look-at-the-soul @gathania93 @wonderlanddreamer @thelastemzy @meadows5

@emotionalcadaver

General tag list:

@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella

@caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24

@kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @areyenotfondofmelobster

@red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby tag list:

@50svibes @bellabarnes1378

#nina ferrante #nina ferrante x tommy shelby #reb 🖤#lily reads

100 notes · View notes

ajokeformur-ray · 5 years ago

Note

okay so what about getting asleep on the sofa while watching TV and then he wakes you up to go to bed and he's just so happy you're by his side that he dances with you around the room like he does with penny and you're still sleepy and you murmur 'we better dance like this at our wedding, future husband' hhhhf im SOFT

I’m soft omg this is the life ????? also I love that shoulder thing he does in this scene ugh. He’s such a cutie pie.

Warnings: swearing, smoking (why do I still bother tagging these?) and implied nsfw at the end. You may need to bite a pillow to keep from squealing, this is soft.

word count: 1, 981.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z @x-avantgarde-x @mapreza1 @insomniabird@mavalenovaninagavi @itwasrealenough @morrisonmercurymalek @rand0ms-fand0ms @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing @rebs-doom @vivft@help-i-am-obssessed @autumnaffection @taintednihilist @vladtoly @mg-woolf99 @misstgrey92 @that-s-life @dopey-girl-blogs @seeking-dreamland @sweetheart-syndrome @heartxfdesire @xmusichealsthesoulx @0callmejude0 @the-one-that-likes-riddles @hannibalsslut @folliaght @freeeshavacadoo @bingewatchingmylifegoby @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx @sp0okysp0oky @the-pandorabox @mardema @jibanyyan @honeyflvredcoughdrop @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk @epidendroideae @chuuntas @stillmabel @pumpkinpeyes@onehystericalqueenposts @the-jokers-wolf @nalsswa @justahyena @arianatheangelworld @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester @twentyonestarrynights @sirianfromsixties

You were exhausted.

All day had you had to be in contact with people. You hadn’t had a free moment to yourself. Even when you had gone outside your university to have a cigarette, people had wanted stuff to do with you. It hadn’t been more than an hour since leaving the apartment building that you had wanted to go home again. At least Arthur didn’t socially wear you out; one look at you and it seemed like he could read your entire mood, and know what to do to be around you peacefully, without causing you any sort of distress. He was an actual angel and you didn’t know where you would be without him. Your entire life revolved around Arthur, and though you knew that that was mildly unhealthy, you also knew that you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was the kind of man to demand that all eyes were on him. He was unaware of the beauty of his own self, and that only increased his allure, somehow.

When Arthur had finally come home from work late in the evening, just as tired and worn down as you were, you had already been curled up on the sofa, ready to go to sleep. Instead, however, you had jumped up with more physical energy than you thought you had left in you, such was the effect he had on you, and reheated his dinner, spoken to Arthur about his day, and made him feel loved. Loving Arthur Fleck was a gift, but it seemed almost surreal for him to love you back just as hard, if not even more than you loved him. He felt deeply, which meant that he hurt deeply, and rarely could he experience a single day without another punch to the face. Sometimes, life expressed that particular sentiment physically, and you were always there with a gentle touch to patch up his wounds. It was the emotional ones which required more tender loving care, and you only gladly obliged. He deserved the entire fucking world, and though you couldn’t physically give it to him, you could make him feel like he was on top of it.

When at last all your daily responsibilities, stresses and duties had been tended to, Arthur had invited you to sit beside him on the sofa. The Murray show was on, but you weren’t concentrating on it. Not only did you not like the host - he was a rude man who preyed on other people to get a cued laugh from the paid audience and sometimes you found yourself wishing that someone would just permanently shut him up - but you were just so tired. You leaned easily against Arthur’s upper arm, feeling his body heat radiate through his thin cotton shirt. Naturally did his arm curl around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. You shifted so that you were pressed completely against his side, his body warding off the chill in the apartment; the heating was just too expensive, even and most especially given that it was winter and therefore, the government could get away with putting up the prices because of the ‘supply and demand’. It was bullshit, but what could you do? You were a working class citizen working to the bone just to survive and therefore, you had no real voice and no power of your own.

You were asleep before you knew it. The scent of cigarette smoke kept your own nicotine craving at bay, and the feeling of Arthur pressed tightly against you and the gentle smell of his cologne kept you in that secured lull which promised a good night’s sleep in preparation for all that was waiting for you tomorrow. You couldn’t wait for Sunday; it was your Day with Arthur. Once a week, every Sunday, did you only make plans for each other. You didn’t leave the apartment on Sundays, anything important could wait until the following day, and so you were left to indulge in each other in whatever means were most appealing on that day. Often, you stayed in the bedroom and played card games, smoking together and watching Charlie Chaplin re-runs.

The first thing that you became distantly aware of was that the bed you were lying against was moving in a steady rise and fall. There was a rumbling just under your ear and then Arthur’s gentle, patient tone threatened to send you right back to sleep.

“Y/N, darling. Come on, it’s time for bed.”

You groaned. “Nope. Sleeping. Shush.”

Another rumble ran through Arthur’s chest and bubbled up and out of his throat, the sound creating a lovely laugh. You adored it when he laughed genuinely. It was such a rare sound and you cherished it, so different was it to the terrifying attacks he so often experienced.

“No,” Arthur hummed, “You gotta help me get you to bed. I can’t carry you.”

You sighed sleepily and sat up. Arthur laughed both at the expression on your face and the way your hair was sticking up on one side, laying completely flat on the other.

“Sleepy head.” He teased, his eyes soft and full of love for you. The harsh blue light from the television screen illuminated the dark circles under his green eyes, and you felt guilty. Had you kept him awake while he waited for you to stir?

You stood, taking Arthur’s hand, and he pulled you close to his chest, swaying with you. He spun you slowly, a sweet smile on his face. His hair was fluffy, freshly washed, the dark curls framing either side of his forehead. His waistcoat was perfectly matched with his trousers, and he looked so ethereal. He was heaven sent. As he pulled you close again to dance with you without music, your sleep addled brain failed to consider the potential consequences of your next words.

“I want to dance like this with you at our wedding, future husband.” Your eyes were already sliding shut as you relaxed against his chest.

Time seemed to stop as your words seeped into your brain. Arthur froze and you even felt him stop breathing.

You weren’t tired any more as reality doused you awake just as surely as a cold bucket of water tipped over you would. You stared at Arthur’s still chest, not blinking, your entire body trained on the person in front of you, his hands still tightly gripping you.

A shuddered inhale. A bubble of quiet laughter. Silence.

“What… what did you just say?”

You dared to look up into those beautiful green eyes you so adored. You had memorised that face so well that you could recall it perfectly even in your sleep. Many a night had you fallen asleep staring at it, hoping that its features would find you in your dreams.

Little did you know that your wildest dreams weren’t inside your mind, but physically present in the bed with you.

“What is your shirt made of?” You reached out and plucked the sleeve of his shirt between your thumb and forefinger. You had a reason for the apparent sudden change in topic. You would make your point known in all the ways you could think of. It was the least you could do for Arthur.

“No, Y/N, what did you - “

“I’m getting there.” You smiled patiently, pleading with him inside your mind to go along with you.

Arthur nodded, sighed and seemed to accept that you would repeat yourself when you had had your fun as, with a slight bite of impatience, he said, “I don’t know, cotton or something. Please tell me what you said.” His voice was quieter towards the end of the sentence. Did he think it was a joke to you?

You shook your head and made sure to look him straight in the eyes. “No.” You disagreed. “It’s made of husband material.”

You saw some pre-existing spark in his eyes explode into a fire as the most beautiful smile lit up Arthur’s entire face like a christmas tree. You hadn’t intended to say this here and now, but your mouth had made the decision for you, as it so often did when you were tired. Actually, scrap that - your mouth often made your decisions for you, and your brain was left to figure out the aftermath. Your brain to mouth filter had always been faulty, even more so when you were tired.

“Wait here.” Quick as a flash were you gone, disappeared into the bedroom. You left Arthur’s arms feeling empty with naught for company but the ghost of your touch. Like a whirlwind, you were back just as quickly as you had gone.

In your hand was a small black box, which was clenched painfully in your grip. Ready? Go!

“Here.”

You handed it to a wide eyed Arthur. His hands were shaking and nearly did he drop the box. He sought to cup it in his hands. “W-what… I don’t -” Laughter. Cruel and painful laughter ripped its way out of your love’s throat, making him cross his arms over his shoulders as he buried his face in the material of his work shirt. He doubled over, turned his back to you, and violent chuckles threatened to destroy the very gentle, loving atmosphere that had naturally occurred when the two of you were together.

You put a hand on his back, rubbing up and down his spine, feeling the different vertebrae through his clothing. You said nothing, you only stayed, and that meant so much more to Arthur than anything else that you could have done. Guilt racked him as he squeezed his eyes shut. He had ruined the moment. You had just presented your future together to him on a silver platter, the entire scene practically gift wrapped in its perfection, and he had ruined it with his condition. As he quieted to hiccups and straightened up, breathing in deeply, you said, “Don’t you dare think you’ve ruined anything, Arthur.”

He hiccuped, “But - “

“No.” You smiled gently to take the bite out of your words, and pulled him into a hug. Immediately did your fingers find the dark curls at the nape of his neck. Arthur’s head sunk down onto your shoulders, taller than you was he, and he pressed his nose into your jugular. His lips soothed the day’s tension away, and you allowed him to lavish you with kisses.

Slowly did you realise that he hadn’t answered your question.

“Arthur.”

Something in your voice caught his attention and he straightened up.

“Are you gonna’ answer my question?”

“Wait… you weren’t. You weren’t joking?” He was so incredulous, so disbelieving, that you couldn’t help it. Your jaw dropped. Did he really think so little of himself? You didn’t even need to think about it. Yes. Yes, he did.

“I would never fucking do that.”

Arthur looked down to the floor in shame, and you found the fallen box - he must have dropped it during his sudden attack - and picked it up, dusting it off. You opened it to reveal a set of modest antique rings. It was the best you could afford. The design was plain and simple but elegant.

“So, how about it? Will you marry me, Arthur?”

The ferocity with which he kissed you took you aback, as again and again did he mumble “yes” against your lips. Your legs somehow found his waist, and it was with speedy movements and little care for the late hour that you showed Arthur just how much you had meant your question. The rings lay abandoned on the living room table; you would put them on each other tomorrow. For now, you would consummate the as yet unofficial but official vow to love each other in sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part.

#rebs-doom #Requests closed #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck imagine #todd phillips #joker #joker interview #joker x reader #joker 2019 #joker 2019 imagine #Joaquin phoenix joker #joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix imagine #phoenix!joker #phoenix!joker x reader #phoenix!joker imagine

831 notes · View notes