#the only point of marriage at this point is tax benefits

[dont-read-this-im-dead]

Me: I don't think I'll ever get married. I hate it when people touch me.

Mom: I hate it when people touch me, too, but you have to suck it up so you can get married and have a family, just like I did. It'll be worth it.

Me, trying not to let the fact that my mother casually suggested letting my husband rape me bother me: OR. Just a thought. You could just accept the fact that even if I got married, I wouldn't let him touch me BECAUSE I DON'T LIKE BEING TOUCHED.

Mom: I just want you to be happy, sweetheart. And you still owe me grandbabies.

Me: OR. Just a thought. Maybe you could remember for one minute each day that I. AM. INFERTILE. Everytime you bring up children, it feels like a stab wound to my uterus AND my heart. You have 17 grandchildren. Leave me alone.

[imfoive]

Trophy Husband - Chapter 1

Hyunjin x Reader (fem.) Genre: Arranged Marriage au!, Marriage of Convenience-ish, Romance, Angst, Frenemies-to-Lovers, NSFW (eventual) mdni Warnings: tw-panic attack, mentions of cheating, cursing, crude language, somewhat proofread WC: 6.1k A/N: did anyone catch the easter egg for this series in last chapter of “The Youngest Son”👀. ALSO, had to create a surname for y/n for plot sake. Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: Two individuals with polar opposite lifestyles are thrown into an arranged marriage for the benefit of both their families, or so they claim. One is a frivolous playboy, living off familial wealth, while the other is an overly controlling workaholic. Navigating their marriage with a business-like approach, their relationship is marked by a whirlwind of bickering, banter, and societal pressures. Amid misunderstandings, they uncover layers of unexpected qualities, eventually discovering a sweet love neither saw coming.

CHAPTER 1 ───────────────────

It was common, very common amongst the elites to let their children mingle, to marry them into wealthier families, alliances through marriage that brought benefit for both parties. 

Yet, even after living amongst them, growing up with such a common custom. One that automatically came to those in the upper tax bracket, like a built-in lifeline, Y/N could not grasp exactly what was happening to her.

No.

She understood. But why was it happening to her?

Y/N was the only child of wealthy parents who had poured their souls into building their business, yet as their only child, she felt an immense disdain for their corporate empire and everything that came with it. From a young age, she was told it all belonged to her. Groomed to inherit it. The deals, the ties, the connections.

The headaches, the stress, the immense boredom of it all.

From a young age she was told that it was her duty, to ensure it continued to thrive, continued to grow bigger than it was. A duty to fulfill her father’s ambitious vision. To nurture an inner ambition that her parents didn’t realize, is not a quality one inherits.   

Y/N harbored no such ambitions. 

Her heart beat to the rhythm of creativity, her fingers itching to paint, to sculpt. Drawn to the array of colors that lured her with their vibrancy. Passions she had managed to hide away from her parents’ scrutinizing eyes. 

Until she couldn’t.

The discovery of a double life that led to countless fights, trashed materials the young girl filtered out the dumpster. Cold shoulders, arguments ending with tears and leaving home quite often. By the time it reached that turning point where her father realized he could no longer control her rebellious streak, he sat her down.

A discussion that ultimately resulted in what one would only describe as a compromise.

“You get what you want now, and one day you pay me back.”

The then teenager keenly agreed, her aspirations of going to art school, and starting her own gallery with her father’s aid, took the front seat. 

She chased after those colorful streaks.

Over time, busy with the whirlwind of establishing her own artistic success, her freedom, she almost managed to forget the bargain she thought she struck with her serpent-like father.

Almost managed to.

Of course it came back to bite her in the ass.

Y/N stared at her father incredulously, hoping his next words would reverse the bombshell he’d just dropped. 

   “Tell me you’re joking—no, you have to be joking.” Her voice wavered with disbelief as she looked back at his stern expression.

   “Hwang Hyunjin!? HGroup’s second son, Hwang Hyunjin? Dad, have you gone crazy?!” Incoherent stutters left her lips in disbelief. 

   “No, this must be a prank.” Her head darted around the room, eyes raking the emptiness in hopes that someone would pop out with a camera.

Someone would laugh in her face saying “haha, got you!”

But no one does, and she only stood under the intent gaze of her father.

The older man’s stern expression intensified, and he sucked in his teeth sharply before pointing at her, his finger wagging as he spoke.

   “That’s no way to talk to your father.” He admonished firmly. “You heard me right. HGroup has sent a proposal for your hand, and I’ve accepted.”

She blinked rapidly, clearly caught off guard by the news delivered so quick, one after another. A repeat of the crazy talk he had ambushed her with the moment she had arrived.

   “What is this, the nineteenth century?” She retorted incredulously.

   “Why in the world would you accept without consulting me? I’m never marrying that-that dimwit!” She huffed, watching as her father’s expression hardened, unyielding. 

   “I’m your father, I know what’s right for you. Marrying into that family is not only going to be good for you, but good for us as well. Don’t you understand? They view you in such a positive light, itching to make such an accomplished woman a part of their family. They jumped at the opportunity.”

She let out an unamused laugh, but it quickly stilled into clenched teeth, a sign of her frustration and anger simmering beneath the surface. Coming to one conclusion.

   “Dad…Then just say you’re selling me off.” 

Her father furrowed his brows deeply, pointing at her once more, but this time he was at a loss for words. He couldn’t immediately retort to her objections, maybe because he was stunned by the absurdity of them.

Or maybe deep down he knew there was some truth to what she had said. 

She could see it in his eyes.

   “There’s no way you’re doing this for me. It’s obvious why you’re doing this. Your company needs HGroup to back it up. And you’re just using me to get to them—maybe even taking it out on me because I didn’t want to inherit your business.” She asserted firmly, arms crossing over her chest, her eyes brimming with frustrated tears.

A speck of silence settled between them, before the old man’s expression softened, hoping that perhaps a cooler tone would allow his steadfast daughter to at least hear him out.

   “I need someone to take over once I retire. You think I could leave it in the hands of that good-for-nothing cousin of yours?” Her father countered, finally revealing his true intentions, his voice was tinged with exasperation.

   “—And you thought Hwang Hyunjin is a better choice? Dad! Don’t you know what kind of person he is? He’s the farthest from responsible!” She refuted, her voice only growing louder, more defensive.

Once again, her father found himself unable to respond to her pointed objections. Instead, he reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. An action that made her flinch because she knew what he was trying to do.

   “Right, I know he isn’t the best choice. But with his family’s backing, and perhaps a push from you, our business can flourish for many more years.” He reasoned, his tone softening even more so, as he tried to persuade her.

As if he was on her side.

Except Y/N wasn’t five anymore, no longer the little girl who skipped around her father. She brushed his hand off her shoulder, taking a step back.

   “Then listen closely. There is no way I’m going to do this.” She declared firmly, her voice wavering slightly with emotion.

Turning on her heels, she moved towards the door, hastily wiping away the tears that had slipped down her cheeks.

   “If you want to keep that art gallery of yours standing, you’ll do exactly as I say. Remember, you owe me this.”

Her father’s words were cold, the softness in it long gone. The daughter halted in her tracks immediately. Her figure tensed with surprise and disbelief as she slowly turned back towards him, wide eyes staring in shock at the weight of what he had just uttered. 

How could he hold this against her? 

She must have been foolish indeed.

Similarly in another part of the city, the Hwang Hyunjin in question, stared at his father in the same contempt and shock.

   “Father!” His shout had resonated, rising abruptly from his chair and staring down at his father behind the desk in disbelief. 

   “Marriage? Are you kidding me?”

The father, who would have ignored him if it was up to him, handed his assistant some files as he spoke, not even sparing Hyunjin a glance.

   “No one asked your opinion. We’ve agreed to marry you into the Yeom family.” His father replied coolly, unaffected as he leaned back in his chair.

   “That makes absolutely no sense. Do I not get a say?” He demanded, looking towards his father’s assistant for support, but the older man remained silent, avoiding eye contact.

   “You’re serious? This isn’t some kind of drama. Why are you jumping to such extreme measures—” His frustration peaked, but before he could continue, his father’s hand slammed loudly against the desk with a resounding slap. 

The sudden noise stunned Hyunjin into silence, and he took a step back, his angry expression replaced by wide-eyed stunnedness.

   “You think this is just about you getting arrested? You good-for-nothing slob. You’re damaging both your and HGroup’s image, and I’ve been letting you get away with it for far too long.”

Hyunjin narrowed his brows, feeling the weight of his father’s words bearing down on him. He couldn’t find a way to argue against the truth in what the man was saying. 

   “I’ve had enough of it. This time you’ve gotten your brother involved and I’m not going to let you ruin his reputation as well.” His father continued, his tone firm and resolute.

Hyunjin’s eyes shot up in surprise and stiffened at the mention of his brother, instinctively falling silent as he processed the gravity of his father’s statement. Sure, there was a small hiccup, sure he had been taken to the police station, his brother rushing after to prevent him from being thrown behind bars, but it was not all Hyunjin’s doing.

But would his father even understand if he told him it really wasn’t his fault this time? That his brother only got involved because he just happened to be there? That he didn’t start that drunken brawl.

Hyunjin chose to stay silent, listening to his father berate him, eyes cast downward.

   “There will finally be something good attached to your name and you’re refusing? Hah!” His father’s laughter dripped with sarcasm, and he pointed at his son, glaring.

   “Listen closely. You are getting married to that Y/N Yeom, and staying out of trouble. Got it?”

Hyunjin stayed silent, his angry gaze silently screaming at his father, who refused to give in this last time.

   “If you don’t, I’m cutting off your expenses. If you want to be a homeless slob, be my guest.” ─────────────────────── The gallery director’s arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face twisted in displeasure as she observed her to-be husband from a distance. He sat with legs crossed, nonchalantly sipping iced coffee, sporting black sunglasses on his nose. His relaxed figure, leaned back against his chair as he tapped on the cafe table, glancing around, as if he’s come sightseeing.

She sighed deeply, steeling herself to approach him. Determined steps finally approaching him. Clearing her throat to get his attention, she leaned forward, closing the gap between them at the table. The dark-haired man peered over his glasses, observing Y/N as she stood tall, almost towering over his seated figure.

Hyunjin slowly took off the sunglasses, hooking them onto his shirt, his expression studying her frigid figure once more, easily guessing she wasn’t too thrilled to see him.

   “You.” Her tone was laced with bitterness.

   “Are you aware that because of you my human rights are being violated? Why in the world did you agree to marry me? We barely know each other?”

Hyunjin blinked, a little taken back by her sudden bombardment of questions before his brows relaxed if he’d come to a conclusion. She was definitely not thrilled to see him.

Y/N’s emotionless tone managed to catch his attention. Her gaze, her words, were oozing of some superiority complex, clearly looking down at him, like everyone else around him does.

He eyed his future wife up and down once more before clearing his throat and setting down his glass.

   “Why? Anyone would be ready to marry me. Don’t I have the perfect face for the future son-in-law of Yeom Co.?” He leaned in, cupping his face in his hands, parading his looks with a pretty smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh. The sound of her chair being pulled back, harsh as she settled into it and sat across him.

   “You think I want to marry you? Don’t be fooled, you’re nothing but your pretty face.” She stated, arms crossing over her chest.

Hyunjin’s smile faltered at her harsh but truthful words. He leaned back, squinting at her upset expression before finally letting out an exasperated sigh. His head dropped for a second before looking at her.

   “Look, we’re both in the same boat. It’s tiring trying to argue about it. We just have to get along, that’s all.” He answered nonchalantly, as if his father hadn’t threatened him only two days ago.

The headache Y/N was getting from conversing with him was inexplicable. Running a frustrated hand through her hair, she took a deep breath.

   “I don’t want to be in the same boat as you. From which angle do the two of us look like a good match?” There was a bitterness dripping from each word she spoke.

His lips twitched, fingers tapped on the table, suddenly sitting up and leaning closer. Offended slightly.

   “And exactly what makes you a catch? What makes you so high and mighty?” He asked, tired of the insults she kept throwing at him.

Her mouth fell agape for a brief second, stunned by his directness and the shift in tone. The stupid expression on his face was no longer apparent, instead replaced by a cold gaze she was surprised to see.

   “Hey, Hwang Hyunjin, you idiot. My father’s ready to sacrifice nine years of my hard work just for you.” Y/N exclaimed, incredulous.

He glared at her, biting the inside of his cheek.

It wasn’t like Hyunjin himself had gone to her father to ask to marry her. This woman he only encountered in social settings, getting glimpses of her face here and there. The only similarity shared between them was the school they attended together. But even then, they didn’t even exchange a glance, let alone a conversation.

  “You’re not the only one being threatened.” Hyunjin began.

Then a thought zoomed passed in his mind, a sudden question that he didn’t want to ask because he had an inkling he knew what her answer would be.

But still he asked. As if he was actually looking forward to being further insulted.

   “Would you have been happier if it was my brother sitting here instead?” He asked, studying her frustrated expression.

His gaze had narrowed into a slight frown as he asked. But she only rolled her eyes. Clearly disgusted by even that idea.

   “I dislike both of you. If I had a choice, I’d rather stay single forever. Besides, what did your father threaten to take away from you—no, what do you even have to protect?” Her blunt words stung, further aggravating the usually cheerful, usually patient man.

The dark-haired man sitting across fell silent, his expression unreadable.

   “Listen to me straight, speak to my father. Tell him you’re against this marriage—”

   “Nope.” His abrupt refusal cut her off.

   “I’m gonna marry you. I’m gonna make sure you become my wife.” 

His gaze was no longer playful, instead replaced with an anger and darkness she had never seen in them.

   “H-hyunjin…” Her voice trailed off, realizing his ego was preventing him from listening to her, though her provoking hadn’t helped either.

But something about this wasn’t right.  

He sighed, noticing her expression. Amused that Y/N could even make such a face. 

Hyujin chuckled. His fingers covering his mouth to stifle his laugh. Amusement in her shocked expression, in the big eyes she stared back at him with, unsure of exactly what was so funny in their situation. 

   “I’m joking. I’m really not a fan of all this as well.” He chuckled, observing her blink in confusion. 

   “But I really have no say either. You’re giving me too much credit for even thinking your father would hear me out.”

Neither of their opinions seemed to matter, an arrangement so ridiculous she kept having to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming such a horrible dream.

But why wasn’t her opinion valued?

Why was she suddenly being pushed to reform the screw-up Hwang son?

She looked at him silently, her mind processing his words. Her eyes trailed over his smug expression, the tug of his lips that thinned into a pitiful smile. Perhaps pitying himself. Their situation.

Hwang Hyunjin, the black sheep of his family, a fact as clear as day. 

Whenever responsibilities came knocking at the door, he would find a way to slip out another exit. 

This had been the pattern ever since Y/N had known him, known of him. 

Their acquaintance, though distant, spanned quite a long time. They had grown up together, their small social circle ensuring frequent encounters that neither of them particularly cared for to remember. And though they had never been close, his reputation made sure everyone knew of him. 

Hwang Hyunjin was the embodiment of a pampered rich kid. While his older brother dutifully managed family affairs, Hyunjin indulged in a lavish lifestyle. Wore the trendiest clothes. The shiniest accessories. He vacationed in the most exotic places, had passion for flying planes, driving sports cars. Preferring excitement over corporate boardrooms, suffocating under the intent gazes of the corporation, the suits and the pale, dull walls.

His personality was clearly written on that beautiful face of his.

Carefree. Careless.

Meanwhile, Y/N, the daughter of ambitious, business-oriented parents, had fought hard to carve her own path away from their influence. Just when she believed she had finally gained independence, fate intervened, entangling her deeply in a complicated situation involving none other than this greatest playboy Hwang Hyunjin. 

   “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

   “Mmmm… I’m gonna have to end it.” He shrugged, as if it were no big deal.

She rolled her eyes, not entirely surprised by his response. That was Hwang Hyunjin for you. Tales of his flings and situation-ships managed to reach even her ears every now and then.

But a sudden thought gnawed at her. An imaginary scenario arising in her thoughts, one that made her stare at him with a sudden intensity.

   “And what if I had a boyfriend. One I truly loved?” She questioned with a raised brow.

Everyone knew there was no such guy. That the only thing Y/N Yeom truly loved was her gallery and her career.

Still, he nodded, as if considering the possibility. “I know you’re depressingly single, but since this is a what-if situation—” He began, while her expression darkened at his jab.

   “You can continue it behind closed doors, I won’t judge. You’re in love after all.” He grinned, pretty confident that it was an ideal answer, the right one she wanted to hear.

But instead, her expression fell, and she clenched her jaw in frustration.

It was clear where his morals lay, and she really didn’t want to continue sitting here, let alone be associated with him.

Except she could only recall her father’s words. No, his threat replayed in her mind once more. 

The only thing that kept her sane amid the suffocating environment, the success she thrived in, independent from her father’s empire, was being dangled in front of her. It made her blood boil, and seeing her “to-be husband” sitting in front of her, nonchalant about the whole ordeal, left a bitter taste in her mouth.

It angered her that her father thought this man was worthy of her. This man that had zero care for anyone but himself. This man that had zero value for marriage, let alone respect for his “to-be wife” even if they were practically strangers.

Y/N slammed both her palms against the table between them, an action that startled him.

      “Listen here. There’s one thing that’s not going to happen if we go through with this ridiculous ordeal. That is infidelity.”

He narrowed his brows, confusion etched on his face.

   “Surely in a perfect marriage, but everyone has their needs—”

   “Jerk Off.” She cut him off, stunning him with her response.

   “Watch porn if you’re that desperate! But If I ever catch you having some extra-marital affair, I swear to god, I will make your life a living hell.” There’s anger on her face, words laced with a sudden disgust that finally poured out. 

It was clear to the stunned man across, the notion of cheating was a touchy topic for her, but Hyunjin only narrowed his brows.

...Cheating? 

Would it even be cheating if they didn’t really love each other? 

But Hyunjin wasn’t really hung up on that. Instead, he wondered if she demanded such a thing because she looked down on him. That she thought he was a loose man who had no control over his play-boy instincts.

      “Why? Afraid I’ll show up in an article? ‘Hwang Hyunjin of HGroup, caught cheating on his wife, daughter of Yeom Co.!’” His voice carried a mocking edge, as though he were already reading the headline from a real newspaper. 

A laugh escaped his lips, tinged with a hint of self-deprecation. His jaw tightened at the sight of disgust in her eyes.

She could only take a deep breath, shaking her head. Y/N exhaled, pondering his words.

      “There’s that too... but that is where I draw the line.” She stated, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms again.

He let out an exasperated sigh once more, clear frustration on his face. They suddenly sat in a tense silence, furrowed gazes observing, watching each other. But neither budged. 

Neither wondered why they still sat there when it was clear as day that they would never get along.

Their thoughts differed, their values didn’t align. Like oil and water, things that could never mix together, no matter how hard you stir.

And finally after a long moment of consideration, Hyunjin gave in with a sighed “fine...”, though she’s not totally convinced.

      “Look.” She softened her tone, sitting straight in her seat, closing her eyes tightly for a brief second, unable to believe what she was about to say.

      “You don’t have to do anything. Live your life, spend money. Flash some pretty smiles every once in a while. Like the perfect trophy husband. How does that sound?”

Y/N wasn’t sure when the tables had turned, how she was the one now convincing this rake to agree to her terms of their impending marriage. One that was starting to become clear in their near future. Because deep down she knew she had no other choice.

Well she did have another choice, but this was the easiest path. One that would bring nothing but headaches, having to stare at this pretty but insufferable face. It was better than giving up on her career...right?

A part of her tried to to see where her father was coming from. He valued his hard-work, his company, his empire. She tired to understand, as a business woman. As the ambitious daughter who chased after her own dreams.

Perhaps her father was right. If she could mold Hwang Hyunjin into a husband that doesn’t get in her way, push him into a role that didn’t require too much of her attention, this all might work out. Even though the idea of even standing next to him still aggravated her.

The dark-haired man let out a deep breath, annoyingly sipping the last bits of his drink, the ice clinking loudly against the glass. While she only watched in an irritation that grew with each smug smile he shot her between his sips. Purposefully grating on her nerves.

      “Deal.” He finally voiced.

His acceptance didn’t offer Y/N any comfort though. Instead, it confirmed her worst fears, that this absurd marriage was truly going to happen after all. 

That Hwang Hyunjin, who she had avoided like some insect growing up, was going to be attached to her side, tied to her in the pretense of whatever sham of a marriage that was going to happen.

      “Will you marry me, Y/N?” He asked, his lips thinning into a grin.

He extended his hand for a shake, sealing a deal that had suddenly been made, and although she wanted to walk away from all of this, she sighed because she knew she was going to return his handshake. ─────────────────────── The wedding was as grand as one expected it to be. 

Why wouldn’t it be? 

It was celebrating the union of two of the wealthiest families in high society. 

There were whispers about the unexpected couple. Murmurs of curiosity and excitement.

The rumors that were spread, created a love story straight out of a movie. That the couple had crossed paths again at a high-profile auction. Instead of falling for the pretty paintings and glimmering trinkets, Hwang Hyunjin’s eyes were drawn to Y/N Yeom, who seemed radiant as she shared her insights about a particular piece, her passionate ramble captivated him. Enough to make him forget his playboy past and hand her his heart.

It was an ideal scenario. Curated specifically for this crowd of their elite society, eating up the narrative, the romantic drama. The gossip.

Yet, amidst all the grandeur, Y/N sat in the bridal room, staring at her good-for-nothing cousin who had just dropped yet another bombshell on her.

Anger and shock simmered beneath her calm facade as she crossed her arms over the silk of her wedding gown. She composed herself.

      “I already knew. I’m surprised you found out this late. Did you expect me to throw a tantrum and walk out of here?” Her lie was remarked coolly, though inwardly, that’s exactly what she wanted to do.

She actually had no idea what this idiot was talking about. But she couldn’t give him an opening. Allow him to attack her when she was vulnerable, allow him to get under her skin, something this parasite was really good at. Before he could utter more nonsense, she cut in, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.

      “Get the hell out, I’m not done getting ready.” She muttered.

Of course he huffed and puffed. Probably the only thing he was good at, before he exited. As soon as his figure disappeared out the sliding doors, the sound of it clicking close, Y/N’s legs instantly faltered.

Alone at last, the weight of the situation and the sudden onslaught of information hit her like a tidal wave. Her cousin’s words repeated in her mind, wide eyes stared into the shine of the tiles. Her legs gave out, and she staggered against the makeup station, clutching onto its hard surface to steady herself. Makeup products scattered around her, but her eyes seemed to disassociate from the chaos in the room, welling up in tears.

The silence was deafening, yet a ringing sound in her ears was getting louder at each passing second. Normally, Y/N wouldn’t have reacted in such a way. Maybe she would have said something snarky, make the younger cousin cry from frustration even. Something she was good at. But it seemed like everything was finally crashing down on her, as if it dawned on her all over again that this was really happening.

There was a knock at the door that she barely registered amidst her struggle with her rising panic attack. Without waiting for a response, the door slid open, revealing her future husband’s lean figure as he let himself in.

      “What are you trying to pull now?” Hyunjin’s voice cut through her turmoil, but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to reply. 

Her fists balled tightly. So hard, her nails dug into her palms, she tried to calm her trembling figure. But tears streamed down her face uncontrollably, her eyes catching his reflection in the mirror. His narrowed gaze morphed into shock immediately, concern etching his face.

Hyunjin was taken aback for a moment before swiftly spinning on his heels to peer out the large doors, checking if anyone was outside, then closing them with urgency.

      “Woah, what’s wrong with you?” His voice was laced with worry this time, as he hurriedly locked the tall doors.

Turning to face Y/N, he found her almost folding onto the ground, and rushed to her side.

The groom had come to check if his outfit clashed with his bride’s wedding gown. Despite their agreement to be civil through the wedding preparations, she still failed to show up at the dress shop to pick out their attire. Something about being too busy, of course. Though Hyunjin truly had no care for any of this either, he didn’t want to look tacky standing next to her. 

In their ideal scenario, of the Y/N who met Hyunjin at the auction, she might have complimented him on his striking appearance in his black tuxedo, and he might have looked at her with love-filled eyes. 

But that couple did not exist. Just part of a curated story.

Nothing about this was ideal.

Hyunjin did not expect to find her in such distress. Yet he almost froze as he looked down at her trembling form, almost gasping for air.

He had been called a lot of things, but he wasn’t heartless. He could not ignore her. Although he wasn’t sure what to do either. He crouched down, awkwardly extending his hands to graze her back, gently patting it as his voice dropped to a stern whisper. Soft pats that slowly fell into a rhythm.

      “Breathe.” He coached her.

Her fingers tugged at his free hand almost desperately, trying to follow his instructions. Trying to soothe that burning feeling that seemed to ignite her fully.

      “Deep breaths. Slowly.” He continued, squeezing her hand softly, brows knitting with a worry he didn’t think he’d have.

But as his eyes trailed over her crouched figure he felt a sting. 

The silence between them was heavy as she fought to regain control. Her nails dug into his skin, and he found himself breathing deeply, loudly, hoping she would mimic his steady breaths.

      “Yes, keep breathing.” He urged softly, exhaling slowly, trying to match his breaths to hers.

And after what felt like an eternity, Y/N began to breathe steadily, the burning sensation in her chest eased, leaving a dry, scratchy feeling in her throat.

She glanced sideways and saw Hyunjin still beside her, his face etched with concern as he took in her disheveled state. An expression she didn’t think he could make.

      “Did you know?” She finally croaked, tears smudging her makeup further.

      “About?” Hyunjin’s confusion was evident.

She closed her eyes briefly, composing herself. 

      “It was my father who proposed this marriage. Yours accepted because I would fit well into your family. I could keep you in check, the ideal daughter-in-law for his screw-up of a son.”

Hyunjin blinked, his expression softening despite her sharp words. He had assumed she had known all along about their families’ arrangement. One which her father had proposed with sweet talk and buttery words.

But even she was left in the dark.

Probably because Y/N was capable of actually having the courage to back out of all of this if she truly wanted.

His silence confirmed her suspicions, and she let out a bitter laugh, almost pitiful for herself, realizing the full extent of her father’s schemes.

      “He planned for this since he made that deal with me all those years ago…My father did sell me off after all.” There was a mix of hurt and bitterness in her voice that she had tried to bury, that came out pouring with her tears.

Hyunjin sighed aloud before he slowly stood, gently guiding her to sit properly in front of the makeup station, his touch lingering on her arms as she staggered into the seat.

He wasn’t sure what he could say to make her feel better. What he could do to make all this less shittier than it was. 

Hyunjin had already weighed the outcomes of marrying Y/N. And although it sucked that he didn’t have the option to choose his own partner, he truly did not see how this marriage would affect him negatively. 

It seemed only she had gotten the short end of the stick. And it tinged at his heart, making him feel guilty for a decision he did not make.

Hyunjin was not heartless.

      “We can go out there and ruin everything right now if you want. I’ll create a scene, and truly live up to my screw-up reputation.” He offered with a half-smile, brushing a tear-stained strand of hair from her face, a move that came almost naturally.

      “Or, we can get married and then figure out a way to screw all of them over.” He suggested seriously, meeting her gaze with a determination she hadn’t seen before. 

      “Your choice.”

Y/N looked at the man she had branded an asshole since they first met, the man who would soon be her husband if she agreed. The man who looked at her with a new intensity. Steadfast... worried.

At that moment, she realized. 

She had really been stuck on the same boat with Hwang Hyunjin, ever since she made that deal with her father nine years ago.

Everything felt like a blur. Y/N wasn’t sure what had happened or how she managed to compose herself as she walked down the aisle.

Was she even smiling? Did she appear to be the shy but happy bride everyone had created an image of?

The bouquet felt heavy, the dress even heavier. She felt like she was trudging. She felt herself focus on her steps. Right, left, right...

Suddenly, Y/N found herself standing before Hyunjin, his eyes locked onto hers.

The officiant had to call her name a second time, pulling her back to the question he had asked. One she hadn’t heard through the chaos in her mind. Though she hadn’t heard anything he had said at all since she stood here.

The silence in the hall and the intensity of Hyunjin’s gaze snapped her out of her thoughts. He squeezed her fingers in his grip.

Now was the moment. It was clearly written in his eyes.

She swallowed.

      “I do.”

Suddenly, they were married.

The cool touch of the wedding band felt foreign.

Surreal.

She already felt like she was dreaming. Everything felt so unreal. So when Hyunjin’s lips pressed onto her, she froze. A kiss that had truly caught her off guard.

It was something they had briefly touched on during the endless preparation meetings. Ones Y/N managed to show up to but hadn’t paid any particular attention, allowing Hyunjin to take the reins, which he reluctantly did. Of course, since he didn’t have anything better to do after all.

Still, she was surprised. Amidst the whirlwind of all her emotions, she had forgotten entirely about the kiss newlyweds typically share, though she expected only a peck. Perhaps just a light graze even. A brief press of their lips for the cameras to snap. 

But Hwang Hyunjin had a reputation to uphold.

Hwang Hyunjin had to show everyone he was truly in love. With the girl he supposedly fell head over heels for at that high-end auction.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, fingers latching tightly onto her hips, pulling her close to engulf her lips with his. 

A kiss that made her gasp into his mouth. Eyes growing big with surprise at his sudden action.

She could feel his smirk against her mouth, his breath warm and teasing.

A new emotion bubbled within her. One that made her furrow her brows. Hyunjin’s daring act pushed away the anxious thoughts that still had seemed to cloud her mind. Instead, it was replaced with a sudden competitiveness.

Refusing to let him taunt her like that, Y/N responded to his kiss, fingers gripping at the smooth fabric of his blazer to pull him closer, to kiss him deeper, feeling him grow stiff. A surprising action he did not expect her to return with more intensity.

Hyunjin had perhaps met his match.

The audience erupted into applause.

The groom stared at his bride, stunned eyes taking in her content expression as she pulled away, a hint of mischief in her gaze.

      “Smile.” She muttered, her lips thinning into a smile themselves, turning to face the crowd with a wide grin.

Hyunjin inhaled sharply, mirroring her expression, playing his part. Waving to their guests who cheered the newlyweds on. Yet he couldn’t help but glance at Y/N. His bride who was full on laughing now, at the camera flashes, at their families, the wide smile on her face radiating as they started making their way down the altar as a couple.

As if minutes ago she wasn’t lost in her thoughts.

As if her hands weren’t trembling in his.

Hyunjin’s chest tightened. An unknown feeling that pricked him. A little irritated that she could so easily mask her inner turmoil with show-smiles.

A little upset that she had to make those expressions, her eyes twinkling, her smile bright.

A little of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

The new bride and groom seemed to radiate under the spotlight.

Waving, smiling, pretending.

Suddenly they were married. And that unknown feeling persisted. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

── ask to be tagged! (18+) - @jellyleggz, @binniesbabe, @bookswillfindyouaway, @lemonn015, @scarlet789, @onlyhyunjin, @freekyfangirl, @candyquokka, @jehhskz, @stayjinnie, @minh0scat, @qwonyoung23, @lemonn015, @kpopjackie, @rundontwalkshesaid, @sheerfreesia007, @thecutiepieme, @danihwang882, @hyunebunx, @seeeeking-skz, @hanadulsetaad, @velvetmoonlght, @alrm02, @tirena1, @suzyhhj, @d34thon2legs @dessianna1, @hityoulikebahng, @tsunderelino [CLOSED]

[shslbunnylover]

Can I request a fic where Natasha romanoff and the reader are married for tax pourposes, and nat fogets she's married until someone starts talking about her wife that they met on a mission?

With mean nat, and some smut?

🥝

★ ★ ★ A much needed reminder ★ ★ ★

Character: Natasha Romanoff

Summary: After Natasha forgets about your marriage that was based on convenience, she realizes just how much she loves you.

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: NSFW, slight angst and mention of unrequited love, Daddy kink, choking kink, slight spanking, rough sex, mean(ish) Natasha, G!P Natasha (with condom), slight dacryphilia,

Genre: Smut

Author's Note: I've been revived!!

Word Count: 4.02k

Natasha Romanoff. Feared Avenger, skilled assassin, and your wife. Well...not so much the last part. Your relationship was mostly out of convenience, leaving you, who had fallen in love with Natasha a few months into your relationship, heartbroken and bitter against the world. You were literally married to this woman, yet she was nothing more than a stranger most nights.

The two of you had lived in the Avengers Tower for around a year when she brought the concept of a convenience-based marriage. She dragged you into a dark room, and you had honestly believed that you were about to meet death right then and there until she had dropped that bombshell.

"We need to get married," She had stated bluntly, looking down at you as you sat in the chair she had practically forced you into.

"Huh-? Natasha, what the hell??" You replied, looking up at the redhead as the slight slivers of light from the window illuminated her sharp green eyes as they stared down at you.

A few long moments pass, the only noise in the room being that of her and you breathing.

She sighed, just blinking for a minute before sitting down.

"Look, Y/N..." Natasha began, twirling a pen on her fingers, the ball point moving quickly as it spun around in her hand.

Your vision fell to the pen, then back up to the assassin.

"Out of every Avenger here, you're the one I'm most comfortable doing this with. This isn't anything romantic, but it's purely for our benefit," She explained, her hands placed on the table as she leaned in.

"Our benefit? How exactly?" You looked at her curiously, becoming intrigued by the offer against your better judgment.

"Tax benefits, credits to be specific. It would also be a way for you to ward off those annoying ass fans of yours," Natasha's head gestured to your left towards the only window (and light source) in the room that gave a view of the city below.

You sighed, you knew that last statement was true. As an Avenger, when you gained strength you would also have creepy and obsessed fans who would devote their life to you in some parasocial relationship. Being single didn't help that either, and with having The Black Widow holding your hand out in public acting as your wife, you knew the amount of obsessed fans (public ones at least) would decrease.

"You don't have to agree to this, but if you want it, meet me in my compound later," She'd said before leaving the room.

You sat in that room for a long while, debating your options.

But eventually you came to a conclusion.

"Natasha?" You knocked on the redhead's door, sighing as she opened the door. "We have a deal."

You barely managed to see the notoriously rude Avenger crack a small smile.

"Alright, we'll figure out the legal shit in the morning," Her smile dropped once again, before gently shutting the door.

The two of you were married in the courthouse after less than a week following the conversation in the room, leaving you married in the eyes of the general public and more importantly the government and tax office.

Nothing had really changed between you two in terms of your emotional connection. Sure the other Avengers would tease you about being married and would constantly compare the two of you to complete rocks when it came to the love in your marriage, but you didn't mind because you and her were only in this for convenience, it wasn't like you actually liked each other.

That last fact however, changed around a year into your "marriage".

You sat alone in the main lounge room in the tower, most of the others out on some minor missions, almost the entire crew excluding you and Natasha, who had been injured in a previous mission and was forced to stay at the compound. As her "spouse", the rest of the crew sacrificed you to stay with her under yet another one of their "funny" jokes against your arrangement. You didn't really mind being told to stay in the building though, it gave you a free day off.

Turned on in the background was some random reality TV show that consisted more of fake tears and drama then any actual real glimpse of human emotion, but it was still your vice nonetheless.

With your feet propped on the couch and a bowl of leftover Chinese food in your hands, you watched the show on the television with lazy eyes. You didn't have any real responsibilities at the moment, Natasha was way too stubborn to even think about letting you take care of her, no matter how "married" you may have been to the rest of the team.

About an hour passed when you heard the assassin's voice come out of the hallway in a groan.

"Ah shit-" She grimaced, walking down the hallway, her stubborn self still refusing any help, even in the form of leaning on the wall.

"Nat?" You paused the TV, placing your bowl of rice on the table before standing up to see what was going on behind you.

"What-?" She gritted her teeth, her bandaged leg faltering her steps and forcing the redhead to slow her pace.

"You know you were told to relax and call me if you needed anything," You sighed, looking your wife up and down in a disapproving manner.

"Y/N, I don't need your help," Natasha scoffed, ever the unwilling to receive assistance.

You let out yet another exhale, and you pulled her to the couch you were once sitting on.

"Yes you do, I'm taking care of this wound," You grabbed a first aid kit before kneeling in front of her to unwrap the old bandages.

You placed gauze on the wound, gentle against the assassin's skin so as to not aggravate the wound.

With gentle hands the assassin obviously wasn't used to, you finished cleaning up her leg, before gently placing Natasha's leg down.

You looked up when you heard her laugh.

"What?"

"You're just like a little housewife aren't you?" She smirked, looking down at you with a cocky expression.

Your eyes widened, and your heart felt as if it was both stopping and speeding up at the exact same time.

Your face broke out into a small blush, and you remained quiet, just darting your eyes away from the green eyes gleaming down at you with a mixture of mischief and teasing.

Fuck.

Later came one of Tony's infamous parties, you'd gotten all dressed up, wearing a small pink dress that highlighted your body, falling right above your knees.

Since the incident that revealed your feelings, you and Natasha didn't even talk, once again returning to strangers. You acted like the other didn't exist, despite feeling empty without the redhead around you. But you attempted to be away from Natasha as much as possible in an attempt to squish your feelings for the older woman.

You stood against the wall, chatting with an old friend who also happened to be a minor acquaintance of Tony's. Your eyes glanced over, and you found yourself staring at Natasha as she discussed...well...whatever she was discussing was some random thing you didn't seem to recall knowing. You assumed her to be another acquaintance of Tony's, most likely an employee or even a news reporter, though you decided on the former.

A small exhale escaped your lips before you turned back to your old friend.

"So, what's been up with you? It's been so long since I've seen you!" You smiled.

"Life's been so chaotic, Y/N, I tell you! But the chaos has honestly all been worth it. After all, I did gain a husband out of it!" They held up their hand, the medium sized diamond on their ring shining under the florescent light of the room.

You gasped.

"You got married??" You exclaimed excitedly.

They nodded.

"I tell you, I didn't see it coming, but married life has been amazing! The man I've loved for 7 years only seems that more special to me, and I didn't even know that was possible!"

In response, you took a sip of your drink, looking down at the hand that held the glass. You internally sighed at the lack of a ring on your finger, but you went back to a smile so as to not give away any sense of the heartbreak you were experiencing.

You were originally okay with the arrangement you shared with Natasha, because you never had feelings for the assassin and it wouldn't feel like you had everything you wanted but at the same time nothing you wanted.

But that changed.

You didn't understand where the feelings began, but now your life felt like an empty shell. On the outside, you were married to the one you loved. But on the inside, there was no love in your relationship.

It was all for convenience.

You two hadn't even come in the same car to this party, what made you think you were worthy of truly being married to the woman of your dreams.

Little did you know that Natasha had begun to match your feelings as well, but hid them as much as possible...

"So, Romanoff, what are you up to?" The man Natasha was talking to asked.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked.

"Have you finally settled down and got yourself a partner?" He pushed her shoulder jokingly.

Natasha tilted her head, crossing her arms.

"No," She said genuinely, seemingly forgetting your entire existence.

"Really? Damn," He sighed with a laugh, adjusting his lean against the wall and smirking.

"What about you?" Natasha questioned out of obligation; she always hated these parties, especially when people she was barely acquainted with came up to her and asked about her personal life.

"I haven't gotten a partner yet...but, I met this cutie on a mission and I'm gonna ask them out," He replied, his smirk only increasing.

The redhead raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Really? Who?" She asked.

The man pointed his thumb to the side gesturing to you as you continued to talk with the old friend of yours.

"The one in the pink," He licked his lips.

The redhead looked around, before eventually finding who he was pointing at. When she saw it was you he was pointing at, a rush of anger coursed through every one of Natasha's veins, and she felt one of them sticking out of her forehead.

"They're married." Natasha spat, biting the inside of her cheek.

The man furrowed his eyebrows.

"Really? They don't have a wedding ring, and they never mentioned it," He looked over at you.

Natasha grit her teeth, clenching her fists.

"Yeah. They're married," She glared.

"Woah, okay!" The man laughed nervously. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

Natasha adjusted her lean, and she looked off to the side.

"I don't have anything in a twist, just giving you the truth," She tossed her braid over her shoulder.

The man gave her an awkward look, but eventually rolled his eyes.

"Alright Romanoff, whatever you say," He replied.

Hours passed and Natasha stood in the back silently, recollecting her feelings towards you and your marriage in general.

When that man mentioned you, she had felt guilt washing through her veins. She actually forgot about your marriage. Why did that make her upset though? She wasn't supposed to actually fall in love with you... She hadn't had a crush in years before she realized her feelings for you. She felt her heart beating faster than normal when she saw you, and she recently felt the need to actually be yours for the rest of your life.

Why did this have to be so confusing?

The end of the party finally came, and Natasha looked up to see you leaving.

It was now or never.

Natasha pushed herself off the wall, and she quickly followed you before grabbing your hand.

You snapped your head to find the redheaded assassin looking at you with an angry and jealous expression.

"Nat-?" You stuttered, feeling your legs go weak at your wife's dominant nature.

"Do you want to come home with me?" She practically growled. "Just answer yes or no."

You blushed, your eyes darting around the room and eventually locking with Natasha's green irises.

You didn't understand where any of this had come from, one moment you were walking home alone and now you were being held by the wrist by the woman of your dreams.

"Yes-" You blurted without thinking, your libido and heart acting before your brain could even process the situation.

Natasha gripped your hand, storming out towards her car faster than she thought her legs would carry her just to be with a person. She'd only moved this quickly to either carry out a mission or to train, never for a person she wanted to be with. No, the feared Black Widow never chased after anyone. But tonight that had changed.

She practically threw you into the passenger's seat of her car, buckling your seatbelt for you before making a beeline for her own spot in the car.

You sat there in shock as Natasha started the engine before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Natasha...what is this?" You asked, pressing your thighs together as a sense of arousal coursed through your body.

"Малышка...I'm in love with you. I can't stand this marriage not being anything more than tax benefits. I want you. I need you." Her hand found its way to your thigh, her palm and digits can eerily close to where you needed her most.

"Natasha..." You repeated her name like a prayer. "I need you too...I can't handle this. Since I took care of you that day, I needed you. Either to kiss my lips or fuck me senseless, I've needed you for too long,"

Natasha's grip on your thigh tightened, and a small moan escaped your lips as her digits snaked closer and closer to your achy and needy pussy.

"Keep talking like that, Ангел, and I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to utter anything but my name and your beautiful moans," The redhead kept one hand on the steering wheel, practically glaring at the road ahead.

"Maybe I want that..." Your hand overlaps the one on your thigh, and you move Natasha's hand to cup your heated sex, allowing a moan to escape both your lips and Natasha's.

"What are you comfortable with? I want you to enjoy this as much as I do," She said, her voice husky from her heightened libido.

"I want you to do whatever you want, I love anything minus ass stuff, choke me, spank me, do whatever, I just need you,"

The assassin rolled her head back.

"God damn it Ангел..." She groaned, and even in the darkness, you noticed a small bulge sticking out of her pants, *she was hard*.

You knew she had a cock, you'd heard her mention it during her discussion with you about her life in the red room. But God you didn't know it was that big.

"Nat...you're hard-" You blurted, as if you hadn't just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"I know, принцесса," Natasha maneuvered your hand to place it on her cock, her Russian accent bleeding through her words the more and more worked up she got. "Look what you do to me, моя маленькая шлюшка,"

Her husky and slightly strained voice only made your pussy all the more soaked, and you shuddered at the feeling of her rock hard cock under your palm and her clothes.

"I-I..." You faltered, unable to say anything at all as you kept your hand virtual glued to her cock.

"We're almost home, no one else will be there, so I wanna hear your moans get as loud as possible. I want to hear every noise your beautiful voice makes," Natasha groaned, rutting her hard cock against the palm of your hand.

"Yes Nat..." You whimpered, squirming in your seat while your achy pussy sat in its own arousal.

"Good girl," She breathed, finally pulling into the tower's parking lot before unbuckling you and scooping your body up into her arms as if you weighed no more than a feather to her.

She carried you to her room in the compound, throwing you onto her king sized bed that laid somewhat prominent in her bedroom.

"Natasha," You repeated her name for the umpteenth time that night, your brain seemingly already fried enough so that you couldn't say anything but her name despite her having barely even touched you. "Please...take me,"

The assassin unzipped her pants, allowing for her cock to finally be released from the constraints that left both of you frustrated.

You groaned at the sight of her dick as she pulled down her pants along with her underwear, leaving her with an obviously erect eight and a half inch cock in her hand.

She looked over at you, eventually leaning down and sliding off your dress with skilled fingers. The pink fabric was tossed on the floor alongside her bottom garments, leaving you in just your underwear.

"God you know...I've wanted this for so long, to feel like we were actually married. To feel like you're actually mine..." She smashed her lips into yours, her hand finding its way around your neck and squeezing just enough at the sides to make your pussy clench around nothing.

You moaned at the rough treatment your neck was enduring, and your legs remained shaky as Natasha positioned herself between them.

She left hickeys across the sensitive flesh on your neck, moans escaping you every time she released your skin from the grip of her lips.

"You know, I've had my hand stroking my cock for months, wondering how tight this little pussy would be just for me-" Natasha bit down on your neck, slapping your wet and achy pussy to emphasize your statement.

"Oh God-!" You cried out at the spanking on your sore cunt.

Natasha virtually ripped off your lacy white underwear, and followed along with your bra, releasing your tits from the cage that had been restricting her from the sight of your soft breasts for the whole night.

"Do you want this?" She asked, lifting her mouth up from your soft and supple skin that had been littered with blemishes to look straight in your eyes.

"Yes- I want this..." You shuddered under her touch, a small cry stuck in your throat that developed under the constant teasing.

"Y/N, are you sure?" The green-eyed woman looked at you, a sudden but very brief sense of kindness and care flooding over her otherwise angry and horny gaze.

"Yes- Please! Just don't tease any more-! Please Daddy!" You cried, the sinful noise finally escaping your throat as your head rolled back.

You paused right after the moan left your mouth, your eyes widening and your hand immediately slapping over your mouth.

"Oh God- Natasha I'm so-"

Natasha gripped at your throat.

"Don't. Apologize." She growled, pumping her cock with her hand to get it nice and ready for your little cunt. "But if you keep calling me that I will fuck that cunt until you're crying, or do you not want that?"

You looked up at her as she loomed over your body.

"No- I want that..." You panted, your chest slowly rising and falling as the air around you became hotter.

"Give me your safe word," Natasha demanded.

"Red," You replied, your arousal somehow increasing at the kindness your wife showed even in her most turned on state.

"Good girl," She purred, her lips pressing into yours once again, both literally and figuratively taking your breath away.

Natasha grabbed a condom off of her nightstand, ripping the foil and sliding the rubber around her thick and hardened cock.

"Daddy...God you're so big..." Your eyes fell to her cock.

"I know, принцecca," The assassin smirked, leaning down to blow softly on your pussy, the sudden cold chill sending shivers down your spine.

Your skin raised under the cold breath she let out between your thighs, and you gripped at her braid.

"Please- Daddy- Don't tease," You begged, your voice wavering under her denial.

She smirked, licking a single stripe up your wet slit. Natasha clicked her tongue a few times, and she cooed at you.

"Ohhh...I know Малышка, you just *need* Daddy's cock in you, don't you?" She smirked, looking up at you.

You nodded violently.

"Please Daddy! Please just fill me up! I'll be good, please just fill me up!" You cried, the feeling of her tongue on you making your body ache for more.

"Such a good girl, I love hearing you beg," Natasha kissed your lips softly before sliding her dick between your folds, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

You moaned at the feeling of her rubbing your clit, but your moan only became louder as she pushed herself inside of you, the tip of her dick rubbing right up against your G-spot.

"Fuck-! Daddy-!!" You moaned, gripping at the sheets below as her cock slipped in and out of your cunt.

You gripped at her hair, your fingers finding their way through her tightly braided locks.

Natasha grunted as she rutted in and out of your tight pussy.

“Damn it Малышка, I never thought you'd be this wet for me…you're beautiful…your hair spread out like this, your pretty pussy clenching around my cock…” She panted, slamming her hips into yours, the sounds of sex filling the environment around you.

Sweat drilled down your face, and your hands quickly made their way to the redhead’s shirt, unbuttoning it and pulling her bra off with the other fabric.

You leaned in, pulling her close as you kissed down her neck, the only thing interrupting your movements being the cries and moans that left your lips.

“Please, please. Oh God!” You groaned against her.

“I know slut, it feels good doesn't it? Doesn't it feel so good? Fucking christ-” Natasha moaned, her orgasm creeping up on her body as her movements got more and more erratic the closer she got to finishing.

“Daddy…I'm gonna come! Please! I'm gonna come! Please let me cum! I've been such a good girl for you! Please!!” You kissed her passionately, your fingers digging into her skin for any sense of support.

Natasha groaned.

“Me too, come with me принцecca,” Natasha gripped your throat, leaving somewhat visible handprints on your flesh. “Боже мой!! Черт возьми, принцесса! Ты мне нужен! Дерьмо! Ебать!!” She slammed her hips into you, her cum coating the inside of the condom as she finished.

“Fuck! Fuck! Daddy!!” You moaned simultaneously, your orgasm washing over you as you fell back into the bed.

Natasha groaned, barely holding herself up by her arms, just as exhausted as you.

The assassin slowly pulled out of you, kissing your forehead as you whimpered from the empty feeling in your pussy.

“C'mere beautiful,” She laid down next to you, sliding off her cum filled condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling you into her arms.

“…I love you, Natasha…” You muttered against her neck, burying yourself in her scent as your naked bodies intertwined.

Natasha smiled gently, running her hands through your messy hair, her fingers tangling in your locks.

“I love you too, Y/N,” She murmured into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo and using it as a lifeline and a reminder that this truly was real.

“Can we try this marriage for real this time?” You looked up at her, your hand falling to hers and tangling your fingers together.

“Of course we can…I've been waiting to ask you that for so long now…” She laughed softly, kissing you softly on the lips.

You kissed her back, sharing the first of many kisses of your marriage, but this time the marriage was finally real and not just for convenience.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

[scribblestatic]

So, like, if you've read SVSSS far enough, you know about the Bingmei vs Bingge part. And there's all sorts of stories with Bingge (basically a PIDW Binghe, not SVSSS Binghe) finding his own shizun in various ways.

Well, what about if he manages to summon a Shen Yuan, but his soul is in Shen Jiu's body? Which, like, wouldn't really be a problem, except he's already been torturing Shen Jiu for a good while now and he's down an eye and all of his limbs are mostly stubs at this point. Thankfully he still has his tongue and penis, which, after so often demanding Shen Jiu be castrated, he's pretty jazzed that didn't happen.

Shen Yuan, being the absolute freak he is, probably wouldn't mind too much. After all, he'd read this part of the story and cheered it on. Just cause he's now experiencing it himself, doesn't mean the revenge was any less cathartic.

Though, well, the dreams he has about what Shen Jiu went through does dampen his enjoyment of his suffering (so many lives lost that he can do nothing about, so much torment that just cycled on because no one thought to seek help, because the world was built so firmly on cruelty)...

And perhaps he'd woken up sobbing at times, crying his apologies to Binghe as though he was the one who had done all those terrible things to him, but he didn't, but those dreams were so vivid and felt so real

The girls at the Warm Red Pavilion, were they okay? Shen Jiu never had sex with them, only kept company to avoid the boys when he couldn't sleep and trained them in the four arts and gathered information from them, gods, he'd misunderstood Shen Jiu and thought him a remorseless villain and enemy to women

Liu Qingge, fuck--

At least now he can help Binghe actually enjoy his life and perhaps stop the cycle of abuse from continuing. Besides, cool motive, Shen Jiu, still child torment. And though the results were quite drastic, it was the dog-eat-dog world of xianxia China, and life was generally unfair. No reason to make Binghe's life needlessly unfair on top of everything.

But yeah! Now that he's in Shen Jiu's body, he and Luo Binghe get to talk, and Binghe, for the first time in his life, experiences regret for his actions, because now his lovely new kind shizun can't card his fingers through his hair or twist little braids into it. Moreover, Shen Yuan somewhat mourns over the fact Binghe's hair is straightened--he loved reading about his bouncy curls.

So now, imagining that, after time, Shen Yuan becomes a more prominent figure in the empire, especially post-marriage. He has a lovely eyepatch and wears soft red, black, and gold clothes, heavy on the red and gold. This nearly limbless man helps Luo Binghe do his taxes and works out various tips on using beasts to the benefit of the empire and remembering small notes about other races that allows the Demon Emperor to be both magnanimous and fierce in whomever's eyes he meets.

Others can't decide if Shen Qingqiu's mind was utterly broken, if he was cursed to act against his own will, or if he was possessed by some strange spirit. Regardless, the realms have never been in such peace before now.

Moreover, Luo Binghe has started changing.

While he can never regain the height lost to a childhood full of suffering and a lack of nutrients, he can change in other ways. He actually eats healthier because Shen Yuan insists on having him eat as well. He steadily stops straightening his hair, letting his curls return until they're like clouds. His muscles grow in firmer and his chest broadens.

Also, as he and his kind shizun speak further, even though he explores the worst parts of himself and uncovers those dirty, evil deeds and the ways they truly hurt him, Xin Mo doesn't get the chance to latch onto them anymore. As painful as discussing those things are...releasing them is exceptionally freeing. So, a sense of inner strength and ease he never had before starts to settle in his body, and his qi, usually constantly battling, stabilizes more than before, his heart demons no longer so adamant or strong.

As a side-effect of both parts, he was already handsome, but now, he's even more so. A wise, secure man no longer so strongly gripped by hatred, lust, or greed. Someone unforgivable to many, but becoming okay with forgiving himself.

Indeed, what a man!

Which is kinda a shame for Luo Binghe's many wives, because he's been heavily trimming down on his harem. Political marriages are substituted for other exchanges, fervent troublemakers are sent back to their homes (the ones who dared to attack his A'Yuan are never heard from again, strangely), and wives who simply ask for divorce are granted them, receiving a hefty gift for at least being loyal whilst married.

So, previously, a harem once numbering into the hundreds falls to the tens, and the remaining ones are either ambivalent or antsy.

Then, as though to answer everyone's burgeoning questions, he names Shen Yuan his empress during a meeting and proclaims that they will make preparations for his crowning ceremony.

I feel like that'd really set off what remained of Cian Qiong Mountain Sect.

Hmm... I think I'll talk more about this later.

---

Part 1: here Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11+: links on Part 10

AO3

[writingfool001]

Unexpected Events

Author’s Note: When I presented the prompt, this request came first so sorry to Malleus requests. I may do one later. Also I absolutely love indie or alternative style jewelry. As much as jewels are lovely and pretty, I like the interesting shapes or designs of them. For those who need a mental visual, imagine hot topic’s silver looking rings that are sold in packs.

Pairing: Azul x GN! Reader

Warning: newly wedded, You/ your pronouns, and reader is gender neutral. We’re going to act like both (YN) and Azul are 18. Also (Y/N) is a second year and a childhood friend.

“Potato, what is that?” 

“Hm?” You are brought out of your thoughts and look at your hand. “A ring? I wear a few rings.” 

“Obviously,” Vil rolled his eyes. “But why are you wearing one on your marriage finger?” 

“Maybe (Y/N) got proposed to by a distant prince or suitor?” Kalim chimed in. 

“Pssh as if.” Leona grumbled. 

“I also wonder why you’re wearing a ring on your ring finger.” Riddle added. “It sticks out of the ones you wear.” 

“I saw it and liked it. I may not have expensive rings like Vil or Leona, but this one caught my eye, and it just happens to fit this finger.” you answered, waving off their suspicion.  

The only reason that you were wearing one was due to a foolish decision that you made when you were younger and didn't fully know the laws on marriage for Merpeople. This was only brought to your attention recently.  

There was a furious banging on your door, and you opened it to be welcomed by immediate dried rice being thrown at you which you immediately closed your eyes. 

"Congratulations, shrimpy!" You heard Floyd cheer. 

"We're so fortunate to have witnessed such a monumental event." Jade chuckled. 

"What?" You exclaim, opening your eyes and brushing the stray rice off of you. "Why did you throw rice at me? What do you mean by monumental event?" 

"I've been told by clownfish that people throw rice at married people." Floyd explained. 

"I'm not married though and those are at weddings." You respond as your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you two here exactly?" 

"To deliver this to you," Jade presented an envelope to you. "Azul told us to deliver this to you."  

You carefully take the envelope before opening it and taking out the paper then begin reading or skimming the page. Yet one line stood out. 

As of this year, the Coral Sea government now recognizes your marriage to Azul - is valid. 

…. 

… 

"What?!" You yelled as you reread the line before closing your door and making your way to your alleged husband as the twins followed. 

As the meeting started, you were somewhat listening as you fidgeted with the octopus ring. There were several topics that were touched on as it was school related. When I was acknowledged, you just replied with uh huh. 

"You're not even listening." Azul spat. 

"I don't need to because it's always the same with you. Poor unfortunate souls and shady deals followed by you going on about who knows what." You retort back. 

“You both bicker like an old married couple.” Leona groaned, causing Kalim to laugh and Vil to chuckle. 

That comment made you think back to how you confronted Azul. 

I busted through the door as Floyd whined about how he didn't have any more rice to throw. Jade only chuckled and pulled his brother away, leaving Azul and you alone. 

"I see you got the news about our current endeavor." Azul calmly stated as you closed the door. “It would appear that we are married.” 

"We don't have a marriage license." I pointed it out, thinking that would change anything. “Wouldn’t that make it invalid?” 

“They already did a background check on us and delivered us one.” He slid the piece of paper over you which showed the government issued marriage license. 

"Tax write off and other benefits we can both enjoy." Azul corrected. 

"How are you calm about this?" You question him, glaring at him suspiciously. 

"As I said, it is beneficial for both of us and when one of us decides to split, then we can just divorce." Azul repeated calmly which fell off in a way, yet you agreed with that arrangement. 

It's never that simple with Azul. One thing you learned from your friendship was always read between the lines. Especially when it came to Azul. 

Only Jade and Floyd knew about the marriage between you two. Jade would stop Floyd before letting it slip too far if you all are around others in public. There is the occasional bickering, but nothing to the point that either of you say anything extremely hurtful to one another. Eventually, the marriage thing slipped both of your minds and you went about your normal day to day lives. 

You were scrolling through Magicam as you looked at endless posts that had rings that would be considered funky or strange and would fall under the indie style category. You saved a few to look at later. You didn’t know that Azul caught a glance over your shoulder and remembered that you would always wear a few rings that sat on the base of your fingers and a few thin knuckle ones. All the rings you wore were more indie than anything. Tasteful and interesting yet nothing too crazy. 

 One night, you were sitting in Azul's office, studying since it was the only place that was quiet enough and no one would think you were off the top of their head. While you studied, Azul was working on contracts at his desk as you both enjoyed doing your own thing while still being in the same room. 

As you were in the middle of reading a page, you heard Azul clear his throat and look up to see him set a small black box on the table. 

“I noticed that you have a certain taste in rings, and I saw this one. It reminded me of you.” He explained sheepishly, even though he tried hiding his reluctance. You both held eye contact in silence for a few seconds before he went back to working on his contracts, leaving you to your own devices. 

You looked at the ring and it was simple, yet it had a unique flare to it. Looking back to see Azul went back to being busy. You slip it on and quietly walk over closer to him so that you can see the small wrinkle in his nose he gets when he's focused. 

You lean over and kiss his cheek, catching him off guard. 

"Awe you still look so cute when you blush." You lightly tease, making his cheek get rosy. 

"I'm not cute.” He grumbled as he went back to work where you noticed a slight outline under his glove, particularly on his ring finger, making you chuckle. 

Maybe being married to him for now wouldn't be so bad. 

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

"The Jedi are stuck in their ways! They still don't allow marriage!"

Woah. There's too much to unpack here.

Marriage has baggage, even in the GFFA. It's an institution that has been used to abuse and opress people, even in Star Wars (Nightbrothers and Nightsisters inmediately come to mind). It's reasonable that, to a culture like the Jedi who are all for compassion, equality and non-possessive relationships, this baggage would at least give some pause.

To add to the above point, if they were allowed to marry, why would they do it? The benefits of marriage are moot when it comes to the Jedi: raising children is done communally, as far as we know Jedi don't pay taxes, etc.

The only way I can see them marrying is if it's something important for their birth culture or if it's something their partner wants to do. And even then that's an if.

Plus, why do people marry? For companionship? The Jedi have that more than covered. Children? There are hundreds of children in the Order, I don't think having bio-children would cross their minds. Because of social pressure? That wouldn't exist in the Order because their whole thing is "duty first" and "no attachments", which means they wouldn't care much for marriage (something that typically is used to say you love that person above all else, which a Jedi cannot do). Because they feel lonely? They have like, thousands of people in their corner, all of them compassionate and supportive.

Moreover, have you considered that the Jedi way of life is so fulfilling people wouldn't feel the urge to marry? That they're completely happy with their lives? That they're connected to the soul of the universe and have reached spiritual enlightenment, and marriage pales in comparison?

Legends supports my point. In Cade Skywalker's time, despite marriage being technically still allowed, most Jedi choose to not get married. Aayla Secura, Kit Fisto, Siri Tachi and the man the myth the legend Obi-Wan Kenobi himself are all Jedi who fall in love, yet choose not to pursue a relationship because being a Jedi is much more important to them. And in canon the Jedi who get into relationships are Kanan and Cal, after Order 66 where they wouldn't have an entire community right behind them. Quinlan Vos falls in love with Ventress but returns to the Order if I remember right, but this part is foggy so excuse me if I misremember.

I'm biased because I don't even want a relationship, but… why the heck are y'all so obsessed with marriage and babies? Why are we using a culture allowing or not allowing marriage as a baseline for progress?

Why is marriage so important to you people that you cannot understand that some people set it aside to focus on other things for pragmatic, work-related, religious and spiritual reasons, or a simple lack of desire?

Just food for thought.

[rogueddie]

Watching smosh read reddit stories where they're struggling to understand what sounds like an aromantic / queer platonic relationship and I'm laughing bc it sounds like a situation that Steve and Robin would get themselves into.

They would 100% share a bed every night, and it would be Robin sneaking into his room at first bc she can't sleep without nightmares unless he's right there. She needs to be holding him and eventually it just makes sense to share a bed all the time. They turn the second room into a guest room.

They would undoubtedly look into ways they could have a baby together. The only barrier would be sex and they can find ways around that. They'd love the idea of a little Steve-Robin hybrid running around. They can finally have the baby they've always dreamt of, with the benefit of knowing their soulmate is right there with them.

They would always be looking for love- romantic or sexual- outside of each other too and wouldn't see anything weird about it. They're just friends, there's nothing romantic there, and they have needs they want met. Whenever anyone side eyes them, they're clueless about it.

Robin would definitely bring Steve to meet her parents during the holidays too. She'd want to show him off, pointing at him whenever anyone listens to her for more than a second so she can rant about how much he cares about her and makes sure she's always happy.

They'd probably end up getting married too. At first for tax reasons, but then it starts to add up bc of course they're going to be tied together forever. And, thanks to their marriage, they have a shiny cirtificate they can point to, a legal document that means that they belong together.

And they're just friends, that's it, nothing more. They're in love, but it's entirely platonic. And of course, no one really gets it. But they do. And they're happy. So what does it matter?

[bumblebugwrites]

Borrowed and Blue

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: In another brilliant plot to keep the agency afloat, Lockwood decides to marry you for tax benefits. Only he seemed to have forgotten to let you know. With an inspector from DEPRAC coming to ensure the legitimacy of your marriage, what’s left but to tell you the truth? Only you don’t take it too well. And you happen to be the world’s worst liar.

Warnings: Cursing, Minor angst, Unedited writing.

A/N: So “Lover” coded that I had to indulge myself with the title.

Word Count: 3.1k 

“Luce, I’ll need you to go to Satchell’s and pick some salt-bombs; we’ve been running pretty low lately. And George, once you’ve hit the Archive for the day, if you could–”

As Lockwood’s incessant directions continued, you allowed your head to slump forward so as to obscure his looming figure with the shape of the quickly cooling mug in your hands.

“Oh, and that reminds me (Y/N), the inspector’s coming round this afternoon to ensure the validity of our marriage, so I’ll need you to be prepared for that.” That sentence alone was enough to pull you away from your own thoughts.

“Excuse me?” The question was followed by a soft chuckle, the kind you only managed when you’d been caught off guard.

“Did I forget to tell you about the visit?” 

“You’re joking, right?”

Across the small table, George cleared his throat awkwardly, moving to make his escape before Lucy’s sweater-clad arm shot out, pulling him back into his seat, fully enthralled with the happenings before her.

“Lockwood?” From his place at the counter, he hummed back in response. Still, the brunet had busied himself at an unprecedented pace with making a piece of toast and refused to turn his head in acknowledgment.

“This is a joke, right? Because I would know if we were actually married, right?” He made no answer, but his avoidance of your gaze had already been enough to send you over the edge, and you nearly reeled as a physical spike of panic shot through your core.

“Anthony Lockwood, you answer me right now.” You were standing now and teetering on the edge of making your way out into the entry and returning with some choice words and your rapier.

“Well, it’s not like you missed the marriage. I did bring you along.”

“What?”

“You remember that day I brought you with me to the Register Office?”

“You said you needed someone to co-sign the water bill.”

“I gave you a ring–”

“You said you got that out of one of those coin machines full of toys! I thought it was just a silly gift!”

“Right, well, I’m not buying you another wedding ring, so you had better still have it.”

“Lockwood! You can’t just marry someone without asking!” By now, you had left your seat to jab angrily at his chest as you marked each new point. From her place beside George, Lucy slurped at her tea.

“Look, I had already mortgaged the house to hell and back, and we needed the money desperately, so I figured an extra tax write-off couldn’t hurt.” And though it shouldn’t have, the rage quelled itself a little.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” But your voice lacked the anger from before, hitting sharper as each word was tinged with hurt.

“You would have said no. And besides, you’re a terrible liar.” Lockwood flashed you with his signature smile at that last bit, and you couldn’t help the warmth that began to bloom deep within you. You had to admit, being married to Lockwood wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Especially with the insufferable feelings you’d been housing for the boy for the last year and a half. Still, this was not how you wanted things to go. 

“But wait, that trip to the Register’s Office was at least a year ago. Why are they coming for a visit now?” One of Lockwood’s hands which had planted itself on your shoulder in a soothing gesture, leapt up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Well, the thing is, because we aren’t legally adults and neither of us have any parents to sign off on a marriage, I had to pull some strings with DEPRAC to get the license to even go through. So now, every year, to make sure everything is all legal, or whatever–” Lockwood raised his hands to form air quotes around the word legal but quickly retracted them as you swatted at the gesture.

“--they’ve insisted on sending an agent to perform a kind of check-in. To make sure we’re still in love and all that.”

“Still?” George questioned, only to be met with a prompt smack to the head from Lucy.

“So are you saying we could lose our jobs over this?”

“Let’s not forget the house,” supplied Lucy from behind her mug.

“And the house?” Lockwood didn’t answer immediately, instead selecting to fix his eyes on the floor.

“Presumably, yes, that could be one outcome–”

“Oh my god,” George groaned, moving his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“But not if all goes well,” Lockwood reassured the group.

“Right, so let me get this straight, the fate of our careers–”

“And our home,” Lucy interjected once more.

“And our home, is all in the hands of (Y/N), a notoriously bad liar, lying to a Fittes agent about a marriage she was unaware of until this morning?” George questioned.

“That would be correct.”

“We are so fucked.”

It had taken Lucy an hour to calm you down, let alone lure you out from under the covers of your shared bed. 

“I’ll kill him if you’d like me to.”

“Urgh, it’s not that, Luce, it’s just–” 

“It’s just that you wanted things to go differently?” Lucy raised a suggestive eyebrow as a slow smirk spread across her face, but there was no malice in her look. Embarrassed, you turned to hide your face in the pillow beside you.

“Look, Lockwood’s a twat, but he cares about you, and I’m sure if you asked, he would end the whole thing in a second. He was just, well, I hate to say it, but he was just trying to look out for us. In his own, extremely fucked up Lockwood way.” Lucy added the last sentence in a quick attempt to amend the ever-souring scowl on your face.

“And hey, who knows, maybe something will finally come out of this. I mean, you have to admit, being married is pretty romantic.” She smiled at you, and it was soft, encouraging almost.

“Besides, it’s not like the two of you weren’t going to end up together anyways. If anything, he’s just streamlined the process.” With that, you tightened your grasp on the pillow, swinging it in a deadly arc aimed at her head. Just then, a third voice interrupted your siege.

“Oh, hi Luce, mind if I have a quick word with my wife?” 

Your eyes grew wide as they took in Lockwood’s lanky figure, leaning with ease against the railing at the head of the stairs.

“Too soon, Lockwood,” you grumbled, and for a moment, the suave smirk didn’t reach his eyes. Still, he moved slowly into the room as Lucy made her exit, throwing you a thumbs up as she descended from out of the attic.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to crush your legs beneath the covers, he appeared almost nervous before his hand disappeared into his pocket and rematerialized, holding a small velvet box.

“This is for you.” He smiled to himself, sweet and boyish, as he was in moments like these. Moments with just you two. As you moved to take the box from his grasp, his fingers touched yours, lingering against them for just a second before pulling away.

The box was old. That much was immediately obvious. And the hinges keeping it together were rusty enough to make opening it a bit of an effort, but when the lid lifted, your breath caught in your throat.

“Oh, Lockwood, it’s beautiful.” You sat in awe of the small ring nestled within the box’s velvet folds. It was simple but elegant, with a single gem at its center, and you couldn’t help but reach out to trace the smooth metal of its shank.

“Where did you–”

“It was my mothers.” His voice was vulnerable, barely above a whisper.

“Lockwood, I can’t–”

“It’s fine, really. Besides, it's just for today.” But you could see the stress the simple action caused him from the way he toyed with the wedding band now looped around his own finger.

 “Anyways, I really just came up here to go over the plan.” 

“The plan?” You balked, eyes snapping away from the heirloom in your hands.

“Yes, we need a story, of course. How we fell in love, how we came to be married. You should know our wedding anniversary as well. April 14th, remember that.”

“April 14th? But that’s today.”

“And?”

“I– I haven’t gotten you anything.”

“Well, it's not like this is a real marriage.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I’m thinking we say I fell in love first, then you. Women love that sort of thing–”

“No, no, we should say we’ve been in love since the moment we met,” you argued, thinking of your own feelings.

“Well, that’s not very realistic.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn– can’t be true.”

“I suppose so.”

“Maybe we should both just think of our own moment. When we fell in love with the other.” Lockwood seemed suddenly to choke on air but quickly coughed his way past it.

“Great idea.”

“We can say you proposed on a bridge overlooking the Thames,” you suggested, but Lockwood only scoffed at the idea.

“Actually, I was thinking we could say it happened on a mission. Maybe you were hurt, and I was afraid I might lose you forever. That when I realized you were alright, I asked you to marry me on the spot. That I didn’t see the point in wasting any more time on anyone else.”

Your mouth grew dry at his suggestion, and the best you could attempt was a meek nod in response.

“Perfect,” he stood quickly, as though brushing off the intimacy of the moment, and began to head for the stairs, “I’ll leave you to finish getting ready then.” By the time you’d managed to grasp your words, he had disappeared from your line of sight, leaving you alone with your thoughts and his mother’s ring. 

You were descending the stairs when the knock came, and you felt your hand move to twist anxiously at the ring newly decorating your finger. At the bottom of the stairs, Lockwood turned his head just in time to meet your gaze, the nervous look plastered across his face softening into one of ease. Probably just for show. You reassured yourself, straightening your shoulders as you reached the final step. Just before opening the door, the boy beside you cast some final words in your direction.

“Remember, I’ll do most of the talking.”

You could only nod in response as the door swung open, revealing the DEPRAC agent. She seemed immediately to be a severe woman with a stern look set deep within her face and eyes that scanned each of you suspiciously before entering the home. 

“Is there somewhere you’d prefer for me to conduct my interview.”

“That would be the library,” answered Lockwood, jumping into action, “(Y/N) love, how about you pop the kettle on and maybe grab some biscuits.” 

“Of course.” You smiled, but it was forced, the only mirth in your soul emerging from the sure knowledge that George would have a field day with Lockwood later on for his failure to follow the ‘Biscuit Rule’.

As he departed for the library, guiding the woman along with him, you could already hear the echos of his charming chatter as they bounced off the walls of the home. Everything will be fine, the words looped in a self-soothing mantra, filling every corner of your head as you prayed to any god that would listen to get through this interview in one piece.

“And when would you say you fell in love with Miss. (L/N)?” The woman made no reaction to her question, simply opting to continue scribbling notes on her pad. Thus far, Lockwood had done a successful job of veering most questions away from you, though it would be a miracle if your nerves had gone unnoticed between the incessant bouncing of your leg and your consumption of three separate cups of tea over the span of thirty minutes.

“In love?” Lockwood stuttered beside you, and you and the woman turned simultaneously to inspect him closer, his confident facade nearly shattered at the mention of the word. Still, he recovered rather quickly, retrieving his easy smile only a second later.

“Yes, well, I assume that came before the marriage.”

“Of course. Let’s see, then.” He stopped for a moment as though pondering the question though the movement of his hand as he toyed with his ring confirmed to you he was just nervous. In an action you could only hope appeared natural, you reached over, stilling his fidgeting fingers by lacing them with your own. Lockwood looked suddenly at you, and the quiet crack in his performance showed itself only to your eyes.

“It was six months after we first met. We’d been researching for a big mission all day, and when we finally got home, I passed out. I woke up; it was probably three in the morning by then. Came down to the kitchen for some water and– and there you were, in the library, fast asleep.” Lockwood had long since stopped looking at the inspector. “You were in my armchair. I’d probably seen you in that armchair a thousand times. And you had a case file spread out over your chest. You looked ridiculous. But I knew immediately something had changed. I could feel it as I carried you up to the attic that night and the next morning while I was sat listening to you laugh at George’s stupid jokes. Like those feelings that were just a bit of a bother before were eating me alive. It’s– It’s how I feel every time I look at you: like I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life and yet perfectly at home at the same time.” He was quick to look away when he finished, flashing the DEPRAC agent with a smile and leaving you frozen in the wake of his words, struck by his ability to manipulate the truth.

“Just one more question then. Ms. (L/N), marriage at sixteen that’s not something you see every day. What made you say yes?”

Lockwood’s eyes flashed quickly to your face, but as he opened his mouth, the woman quieted him with a motion of her hand. 

“Not you, Mr. Lockwood. I’d like to hear from Ms. (L/N).”

This had not been within the parameters of your preparation. Lockwood’s favorite color, how he took his tea, the date of your anniversary? Easy breezy. You might have even been able to fumble your way through how you’d fallen in love with the arrogant bastard, given its basis in the truth. But you weren’t really married, and you’d never really said yes, so where did that leave you? And like a saving a grace, a question made itself known in your head. If Lockwood had really asked you, why would you have said yes?

“I suppose I didn’t quite understand the proposal at first either.” That much was true; for fucks sake, you’d missed the thing entirely. “But after a while, it made sense. I mean, not a day goes by we aren’t risking our lives for our work. There’s no guarantee of any future with a job like this, so why not marry young? Otherwise, we might not marry at all.” The second part came out rushed, the lie forcing its way past your lips. It wasn’t in your character to be impulsive, even if time seemed to be your enemy. Still, you forced yourself to delve deeper. To seek a truthful answer to that lingering question. Your breathing slowed.

“And then, one day, I think I realized that for me, it was always going to be Lockwood. That had he asked me five or ten or even twenty years down the line when we were old and boring, I’d of still said yes. Because– Well, because I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.” 

You turned your head slowly to catch Lockwood’s eyes lingering on your face. His expression was unreadable. Your brow creased in your efforts to learn more from the set of his features, and for a moment, you lost yourself in him. 

The woman’s notebook snapped shut. You felt yourself scramble from the loveseat you’d been sharing with the boy, and he followed close behind.

“That’s all from me. The agency will contact you in a few days to follow up, but as far as I’m concerned, you’ve passed.”

Without giving time for the information to be digested, she stood and left. Turning to face Lockwood, you were quick to pull his mother’s ring from your finger and place it in his palm.

“Well, now that that’s finished–”

“(Y/N)--” 

“I’ll be in the attic–”

“(Y/N).”

“Lots of research, probably.”

“How did you do that.” The look on his face was one of disbelief when you finally met his gaze again.

“What?” You knew what.

“You know what. You can’t lie to save your life. How did you–”

“Really don’t see how this is important, Lockwood–”

“Were you telling the truth?” You were silent for a moment.

“You got us into this. I could’ve– I would’ve stayed silent forever, but you had to come up with another insufferable plot. And I’m sorry, I can’t lie like it’s some sort of second language– That was quite good, by the way, the way you made me feel– made it seem like there was some chance in hell that you loved me back–”

He dragged you in all at once, catching you by the waist and interrupting your scattered thoughts with his lips. Kissing you. Soft at first, but deeper, harder, as you brought your hands up to his neck. As you kissed back. By the time he pulled away, you were breathless.

“It was never– I was never– God if I thought I could lie my way through this, I would’ve asked George or Lucy even. It had to be you because– because it was always real with you. I have loved you ever since I met you. That night in the library only confirmed it.”

“I thought that was unrealistic.”

“Maybe for someone who's never been in love with you.”

“Ask me again if I’ll marry you.”

“Again?” His eyebrows raised at the implication that there had been a first time.

“Just do it, you twat.”

“(Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?”

“A million times yes, Anthony Lockwood. A million times, yes.”

[the-fox-with-no-name]

Aftg skit: Marriage of Convenience

Disclaimer: i know nora sakavic said that Neil and Andrew won't possibly happen I respect that, hear me out.

I have seen this too many times it might make sense. If Neil and Andrew "were" to get married. It would be for financial reasons. Of course they go to the court house, wake up Wymack in the middle of the morning to ask him to be a witness.

Not tell anyone because "not a big deal its marriage of convenience" to say the least. Of course the foxes will be like all over the place. Bets will be lost for sure, Renee might be a second witness and keep quiet. Once everyone finds out well, Allison will be pissed for not being able to set up perfect wedding, Kevin wouldn't care much, Matt and Dan will be upset for not knowing because "technically they adopted Neil as their son" but will get over it. Nicky will loose his marbles and cause a ruckus. Its nicky. Aaron's reaction will be his usual "I dont care bla bla bla," but aaron will sent an anonymous message to Andrew and never speak about it.

Neil figured if he and Andrew get married, it will benefit them when those two decide to find a place of there own or new car, pet insurance for Sir and King, being financially responsible while taking on their pro exy career. Its a pretty smart move and logical if you think about it.

They way I see it play out is:

Neil: "Ever thought about getting married?"

Andrew: [Glances over, expression unreadable] "What would be the point?"

Neil: "Tax breaks, maybe. Legal stuff. Easier to buy a house together."

Andrew: [Snorts] "Right, because that’s exactly what I want more paperwork and people in my business."

Neil: "So, never crossed your mind?"

Andrew: [Shrugs] "It’s a piece of paper. People act like it changes everything."

Later after the discussion which is yes.

Neil: "We’d need two witnesses. Wymack could be one."

Andrew: [Deadpan] "Wymack? You want our coach at our wedding. That’s... disturbingly sentimental."

Neil: "He’d show up. And he’s practical."

Andrew: [Already pulling out his phone] "Sure, if you want Wymack to lecture us halfway through. I’ll call Renee."

Neil: [Raises an eyebrow] "Renee? Not Kevin?"

Andrew: [Smirking] "Renee would bring something useful like sanity. Kevin would bring a sports drink and talk stats the whole time."

Neil: [Shrugs] "Fair enough."

Andrew: [On the phone, calm as ever] "Renee, you busy? Good. You’re witnessing a wedding. No, not a real one. Just sign the damn papers."

Honestly this is just a head canon, im probably not the only who came up with this or different results.

Also Wymack's reaction to being asked to be a witness for Neil and Andrew's so called wedding would probably be a mix of surprise, exasperation, and begrudging acceptance. He wouldn't say no to them if he wanted to. As long as he doesn't have to do a speech or wear a suit.

[an0nfr0mth3d3n]

Ever heard the ‘Foolish and Bad are divorced’ theory? Here’s totally what happened.

Bad probably lost one of his lovers, and it happened to coincide with Foolish losing one of his lovers, and usually what happens is they seek each other out and cry about it (well Bad cries, Foolish makes a bunch of really sad and deprecating jokes because humor is his coping mechanism).

Well when the coincidence happens, they both end up finding each other and just, venting about mortals and how immortality sucks sometimes, until Bad is like, “gosh darn it Foolish I can’t go through this again. Can you just marry me so we can find love together and not get love-trapped by stupid mortals again?”

(I’m aware the words are out of character but if it was in character the amount of dodging and implying would take up several paragraphs and I’m not doing that)

And Foolish laughs and is like “Aaa fuck it. Might as well try I guess, your stupid ass is the only one who doesn’t leave anyways”

It’s very unofficial, they don’t go to a church or anything, and their rings are just mismatched random rings that Bad stole, but they both have weird and mixed feelings about this.

Bad says he’s sure they’ll love each other eventually (I hc him as demiromantic because it’s on the spectrum and because also that’s me too so yippee)

It takes a day or too before Foolish can’t take it any longer. Not only is it too soon, but when he takes a step back from his grief and actually imagines being in a somewhat romantic relationship with Bad, he wants to puke and roll over and die somehow. Also probably had something to do with the fact that Bad started moving in to his current build project and setting up space there and usually it’s not a promising sign for a marriage if you started the day after absolutely strangling your partner.

Bad also realizes this too. The thought of a traditional marriage at ALL has never sounded appealing. He isn’t one to get domestic with it, and despite trying to set up a home with Foolish sounds unappealing (noooo had nothing to do with the current bruises on his neck right now…) Bad lived for adventure, and liked solitude once in a while, and marriage was just a tether that promised no benefits except for tax purposes and he already evades taxes anyways.

They both fight each other to be the once that divorces the other, and they start by making this EVERYONES problem. They never had a traditional wedding, but they DID go to an official divorce court, making it a point to hire the best talent with divorce lawyers out there. Not that there was much to go on, they were only married for a handful of days, and it wasn’t even official so the lawyers have no clue what to do. They go with it anyways because it’s a totem shark and a demon and they are already beating the shit out of each other in the middle of the court, and the lawyers did NOT want to get in the middle of that.

Bad of course tries to weasel his way into getting 50% of Foolish’s build, and Foolish gets impatient with the court and just attacks Bad himself, fed up at the consistent attempts to steal his build.

They both roll around on the ground, biting, kicking, punching, and both of them are smiling through it. They can lean on each other when times get tough, but Landduo will NEVER stoop to petty human traditions ever again.

(whoops this turned into a mini hc fic)

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 45 – FAKE RELATIONSHIP

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: 27dragons

27dragons writes some of my favorite Winteriron dynamics, period. Both Bucky's and Tony's voices are perfect, and they're such dorks in love that it makes my heart melt every time. Since I especially love their fake relationship fics, I decided to rec them here, but honestly, you should just check out their entire AO3 catalogue, everything on there is fantastic.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

Freedom in These Bonds

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: E Words: 18,314 Tags: A/B/O, Arranged Marriage, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting

Summary: Tony’s been accepted to M.I.T., which only admits a small percentage of omegas each year. He can’t wait to get there, to stretch his intellect and broaden his horizons. There’s only one small wrinkle: omega students have to be married.

Reasons why I love it: Aaaah, this one is so good! Bucky is such a green flag all around, and I was constantly awwwing throughout the whole bonding ceremony and everything that comes after. Plus, the smut is hot as hell. This fic is amazing, and you should definitely read it!

Brideprice

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: E Words: 31,974 Tags: Post-Apocalyptic, Arranged Marriage, Canon-typical Violence

Summary: An event known only as the Sundering destroyed civilization as it had been known. Now, several hundred years later, humans have banded together in tribes that war over resources and scramble for ways to deal with the occasionally-deadly mutations that the Sundering left in its wake. The Avengers thought they would be the next victims of the Hydra tribe’s steady expansion and subjugation, but instead, Hydra approached them with an offer of alliance, including a bride for Tony, the Avengers’ second-in-command, to symbolize the union of the two tribes. But neither Tony’s bride nor the alliance turn out to be what the Avengers were hoping for.

Reasons why I love it: Aside from the fake marriage – which is superb in and of itself – I really love the worldbuilding in this one. All of the lore surrounding the Sundering is super intriguing, and the way that 27dragons plays with Marvel canon here is so much fun. It's really well-paced, and the characterizations are on point. I love this one, and I really hope you check it out for yourself!

Don't Be a Disaster (Be Mine)

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 5,318 Tags: No Powers AU, Coming Out, Getting Together

Summary: Unexpectedly, Tony is alone for the holidays. He hates being alone, but surely his genius brain will come up with something. Bucky can deal with the stress of having lost his arm, or the stress of remaining in the closet with his family, but not both. And only one of those things is in his control. But coming out to them when he doesn't even have a boyfriend is nervewracking, to say the least. A chance meeting on the subway may solve both of their problems... and give them both a gift they weren't even looking for.

Reasons why I love it: Christmas with the Barnes' sounds so cozy! I love Tony's characterization here, Bucky absolutely stood no chance against his charms. And the way they meet is hilarious, I enjoyed every second of it. This fic is wonderful, and you should definitely read it!

Can't Talk (Like Real Adults)

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: E Words: 30,264 Tags: Marriage Pact, No Powers AU, Idiots in Love

Summary: Bucky and Steve made a pact when they were young, that if they were both still single when they were thirty, they’d marry each other. Bucky could think of a lot of worse things than being married to his best friend. They already live together, the tax benefits would be pretty awesome, and he could stop worrying about growing old alone. That is, until he met Tony Stark. Yes, that Tony Stark. Rich, gorgeous, smart, fun, great in bed, and... actually interested in Bucky? Tony didn’t really do dating. It was too depressing to waste his time with borderline stalkers, fortune hunters, people just crossing off their bucket lists, and worse. He’d pretty much resigned himself to a lifetime of one-night stands. And then he met Bucky. Hot, nerdy, relaxed, and utterly nonchalant about the whole “Tony Stark” package in an extremely appealing way. There was just one problem: Bucky was engaged to someone else.

Reasons why I love it: Oh my god, this fic gave me everything I could ever want in a fic. They're both such fucking dumbasses – Bucky more so than Tony, but still – and I love every second of the drama. Also, the intimate scenes are just incredible, 27dragons and tisfan write these two idiots so well. Definitely check this one out, I bet you'll love it just as much as I do!

If Only in My Dreams

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: E Words: 16,954 Tags: A/B/O, Mutual Pining, Christmas

Summary: Despite presenting late, Tony's father never had any doubt that Tony would follow in his footsteps and be an Alpha. So it is with more than mild dismay that Tony finally presents shortly before exams... as an Omega. Now he's got to go home for the holidays to fend off his parents' outdated notions, including his father's attempts to arrange a Bond for him. Bucky's had a crush on Tony since they first met, more than a year ago, but he keeps finding excuses not to express his interest. When Tony admits that he's looking for an Alpha to bring home to pretend to be courting him, Bucky volunteers before he can really think about what he's doing. But it's only for a few days. Everything will be fine.

Reasons why I love it: Oh man, I really feel Bucky in this one. If I saw anyone living in the kind of family dynamic Tony is living here, I'd want to take them far away too. Thank god for Ana and Jarvis! I love how Tony's relationship with Howard especially is explored here, and Bucky's reaction to everything is fantastic. Plus, the Winteriron Christmas fluff is so sweet, it makes up for all of the family angst. I love this one, and I bet you will too, so I hope you give it a shot!

[starrycassi]

Out of character.

Andrew is the last person that one would expect to be insecure about himself. But, sometimes, some days, some nights.

Or the one where Nicky indirectly causes his cousin's marriage.

.

When Neil wakes up, the air is wrong.

Instinctively, he checks his own pulse, to make sure that he isn't having a heart attack. He isn't, so, that is good. He checks his own breathing, sits down in bed and looks around, makes sure that his body is okay. Or as okay as it can be after a specially rough night in the rink. US against Canada, the match of the year.

They won, so, that is good. His inner health is okay, also. No signs of any panic attacks coming, or anything of the sorts. Betsy taught him how to identify them.

The air is still wrong.

He takes a deep breath. It isn't the putrid, nose-clogging, overly sweet fragrance he is used to, and that's not good. It isn't sugary syrup and chocolate pancakes, it isn't colorful cereals and strawberry milk. It isn't anything Andrew usually ate for breakfast.

That sets off all his alarms. That was not good. Andrew, like him, has good days and bad days and days when eating is too much of a task for him to perform and he ends up just wanting to sleep in all day. Neil takes care of him, those days. Brings him food, water, and tries to be as quiet as possible throughout the day. If he can't do it, Renee will, and if they can't, Kevin will, and sometimes even Aaron shows up. Nicky's living in Germany now, but he makes sure to video chat often enough.

It's 8 am, already. Neil usually wakes up earlier. He runs out of the bed and into the kitchen, worried. What if it is too late, too late to cook, too late to bake, too late to order delivery, too late to call for an ambulance, too late to give him cpr, too late to-

Andrew is just sitting there, peacefully. In front of him, a bowl of salad. He's eating it

That is weird. Neil's brain doesn't have enough information about the situation to actually do anything. He locks his eyes in Andrew's face, and stares.

Andrew looka up, places his fork down in the green-filled bowl, and smiles.

That isn't good. Oh, God.

Neil suddenly feels so, so lost. He's seen Andrew smile a hundred times before. Under the meds, he smiled all the time; after that, just in a couple of very quick, small gestures on very certain events. A "blink and you'll miss it" situation.

This isn't genuine. This looks copypasted, and suddenly they are 19-ish again, sitting at the bleachers of the PSU exy's court, Andrew smiling at nothing and Neil frowning at him.

"Did you sleep well, honey?"

Wrong. Andrew's voice usually doesn't sound like that. He never says "honey". His tone is off. Is he mad? Playing a prank? Neil's heart skips a beat. The only logical explanation is that, somehow, in the middle of their slumber, Katelyn and him swapped minds and this man in front of him is, actually, Aaron. But this is his mind, and his body, and his house, so not that.

The other suitable theory is that Andrew was been cloned by idiot aliens in his sleep. That seems better.

"Neil? I asked... I asked if you slept well, baby?"

Neil takes one step back.

Andrew and him are not some sort of loveless, tragic, doomed marriage. They are a happy "technically we're secretly married just for the legal and tax benefits" couple, and Andrew is a lovely "technically" husband. He brings Neil new notebooks with funky covers for him to do maths and doodle on, he makes sure that Neils running shoes are in their best shape and a pair is always by the door and ready to be used, he buys electrolytes and a lot of vegetables he doesn't even like, he does small, little things, everyday, to make his "technically" husband's life better.

He never, EVER, calls him baby, though. As a joke, perhaps. When he wants to point out his stupidity and immaturity. Never as a pet name.

This is wrong.

Andrew, smiling, squinted at him. He isn't wearing his glasses. He isn't in his usual outfit. There was more skin showing than it would usually be. Andrew wore pants and long sleeves whenever he could, and this isn't exactly a babydoll, but he's wearing nothing more than his boxers and a wife-beater that belongs to Neil and looks way too tight and a bit too long on him.

He gets up, his smile carved into his face like a curse to bear and not the blessing to witness it usually was. He walks straight to Neil, and his eyes look completely out of it.

Neil should've dealt with things better. Realize that his "technically" husband is intoxicated. But instinct overtakes him, and in less than two minutes, he hastily puts on a pair of running shoes and leaves the house without a word.

He's a shitty "technically" husband.

To try and amend that, he stops in a park that he knows well by now, takes a few deep breaths, and calls Betsy Dobson.

.

Calling Betsy Dobson is one of his least favorite activities. That means something is wrong, and he kikes it when things are good.

(Andrew banned the word "fine" from the household. Good was an easy replacement)

So Neil calls Betsy and explains the situation with guilt, because leaving Andrew alone was a shitty move, Betsy confirms she will call Andrew, and Neil runs back to the house. Betsy calls him back in the middle of the way, says that Andrew's safety isn't compromised, and tries to get him to talk about himself and his feelings about the situation.

He hangs up.

He gets to the house in record time. The 20 minutes it usually takes him to return from the Gardenia Park turned into ten minutes, minutes crushed under his shoes, under his desperation to get back, under the curses at himself for his reaction, under his attempt to think about what is going on, and his many illogical ideal on how to deal with it.

Perhaps he shouldn't hang up on Dobson, in the future.

It's strange, but relieving, to see Andrew, his Andrew, open the door. Black sweater, grey sweatpants, glasses, Andrew. Mildly annoyed, quiet, Andrew. His "technically" husband. His lover. The man he loves. Really, actually, literally, loves.

Andrew rolls his eyes at him and his whole appearance, scowling, and the world is back on track, "Feeling better, rabbit?"

He moves from the door and Neil gets in, smiling. Yeah. Better. Rabbit is a lovely pet name. He likes it. Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit. He likes it. The world is spinning again.

"A bit. Feeling better, geumbal?"

Andrew stays silent, probably trying to remember what the foreign word means.

But that's fine. Uh, good. That's good. Neil drops himself on the couch, panting a bit. This was an extremely confusing situation, and he's beginning to question if it was real or he ran too much and his lack of oxygen made him halucinate or something when Andrew sighs, heavily, and asks, as a force of habit, "Yes or no?"

It's always a yes, and Neil says so. Andrew sits down next to him, and they aren't cuddling, but this is everything Neil could ever possibly have

"So..."

Andrew sighs, again.

"I'll say this, once. Coach sent us some vodka to celebrate yesterday's thing. I drank. Nicky called. He gave me some advice and I was intoxicated enough to try and follow it"

Neil can't help but burst out laughing.

The idea of Nicky trying to give Andrew some love advice is incredibly funny, but Andrew doesn't laugh, or chuckle, or call him stupid or something. He tenses his jaw and looks at the wall, and that's not good.

"I'm glad it was amusing to you, Josten"

"You're technically a Josten too, you know?"

That usually does it. Andrew turns around and Neil acts like he can't see the blush on his "technically" husband's face. Or he calls Neil a ridiculous sap. Or he vaguely says something about divorce rates on same sex couples.

Dobson would want them to talk about things. Andrew would probably listen to her advice and they'll do it anyway. So, might as well.

"Truth for truth. Yes or no?"

Andrew looks at him, lifting his eyebrows. He looks somewhat impressed. It's a spark, and then it's gone. They haven't been playing that, lately. They live, work and sleep together. There's no room for a lot of secrets.

"Yes. Ask"

Neil nods, and gets himself ready. He tries to think about the best, most cohesive way to word his question. Over the years, he's gotten better at covering all his bases in a single question, so Andrew can't claim that he should ask smarter questions if he wants better answers. But his brain is acting weird, and he hasn't eaten anything yet, and he's now used to breakfast, which, isn't it crazy, that Neil Josten is used to breakfast? And that someone usually cooks it for him? And that they share it, calmly and in silence, just because they're both free to do so?

"What led you to listen to Nicky when, before, you never really did that, even drunk or drugged?"

It's a bit of a tongue twister to spit out, but he manages just fine. Andrew frowns some more, and sighs, again. He looks everywhere but at Neil. He's ashamed. Sad. He's uncomfortable. But, he tells himself, he said yes, and this is Neil, and Neil would never hurt him on purpose. And he wants this. He wants to talk about it. And isn't it so crazy, that Andrew Minyard is going to talk about himself? And that someone will listen to him? Just because this is what they both want?

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not perfect. And even more contrary to popular belief, I am aware of that. I know that I'm not the most pleasant person to be around. I was thinking about it, these days, you know, with the legal paperwork and that. I guess I want to change a bit. For the better"

It's nice, to say it to someone who isn't Bee. It's nice, to look into Neil's eyes and see the millions of emotions running under them. It's nice, to know that 14-yo Andrew Doe would never believe he can say those words to someone. It's nice, to know that 20-yo Andrew Minyard would never want to say those words to someone. It's nice, to be Andrew Minyard-Josten, and simply sit on the sofa and talk things through with his lover. It's nice, to have a lover he actually loves, and wants, and chooses.

Neil leans in, and he mutters the question, and Andrew says yes because he fucking wants to and not because someone is holding a knife to his throat or something like that. They kiss, slowly, with feelings and all that sappy bullshit Andrew Doe wanted to have. They kiss, kindly, and they're so close that Andrew Minyard would have a panic attack and lash out. They kiss.

Then they take a break to breathe. Andrew asks and Neil says no, whispering and chuckling like an idiot, and Andrew may be blushing from the heat of the moment, but he moves away from Neil because they're both safe here. Safe to say yes. Safe to say no.

"I just- I want my question. Ask me again after that"

Andrew doesn't really need to think this one through. His mouth moves before his brain does, vomiting his biggest worry at the moment.

"If you could, what would you... change, in me?"

It's a question he never planned on saying. It feels weird. Like someone else, some lovey dovey married moron, said it. But perhaps that's the kinda person he's becoming. After all, to be loved is to evolve, or something like that.

Neil hums in silence, and Andrew is AJ, Andrew Doe, Andrew Minyard and a ball of anxiety all at once, and then, "Well, full honesty? There's something I'm fucking tired of. I think it's utter bullshit"

And he gets down on one knee. And they didn't do this. They did the legal paperwork, but never this, not this, and Andrew can feel his heart stopping and his idiot of a soon-to-be-again husband has absolutely no ring but that's fine, that's fine because he has Andrew's heart and what else can they fuckin need?

"Andrew Minyard Josten. Yes, or no?"

He never planned this. He never even allowed himself to dream about this, but, God, he's earned it. He wants this, and the "technically" thing was getting old and the sun is coming from the windows and Neil looks somewhat like an angel and they're thirty already and isn't this so weird when did they turn thirty he never planned to make it this far and it's like ten am already and neither one of them's had an actual breakfast and they're both in pajamas and-

"Yes"

And they go back to the whole kissing thing.

[sixpossumsinaclownsuit]

Remember kiddos, polygamy and polyamory was only demonized for four core reasons:

Tw: homophobia, sexism, religious commentary, political commentary, oppression

1.) America wanted more taxes

Part of the legal institutionalization of marriage is that there is tax benefits for the individual parties when they get married, and financial ties/power is attorney between married people. It becomes messy when these ties extend to multiple people/marriages and the I*RS wants they tax money, and America would rather just make an entire way of life illegal than make laws and systems that accommodate people. See point #4 for more on that

2.) Puritan culture (aka thinly veiled sexism)

Puritan culture relies heavily on systems of control that villainize sex and women (that's a whole other conversation but I won't digress), and lots of marriages/polygamous marriages having sex with each other is obviously bad bad bad!! Hard to control!! Save the defenseless women from their pimp husbands! Orgies, the devil's work! And...

3.) Homophobia

Good god, women being in marriages together! Married to a man, but what if these women end up by being married to each other by extension! And having sex with each other! And what if a woman marries more than one man! Would these men become inferior to their wives? Would one of these husbands be less dominant than another? Would the men function in these complex marriages like a woman?! Disgusting! That's gay (derogatory!) Would these husbands be having sex with each other? But that's gay and gay is bad! Sex is bad! God, purge these sinners of their Sodomy!

(Surprise surprise, homophobia has very little to do with actual gay people and has everything to do with puritan culture, control, sexism and the demonization of sex, and points two and three are actually the same thing)

4.) Christian nationalism

Polygamy and nonmonogamy is normalized and integrated with several non-Christian and alternative Christian cultures going back thousands of years, like Islam, Mormonism, feudal Japanese/samurai cultures, Hinduism, several Native American cultures, etc... even in the Bible in Judeo-Christian history and biblical era cultures nonmonogamy was normalized. Banning nonmonogamy in America is banning the right to engage in non-christian religious rite and practice. It's only something criminal to post-puritan Christians and those beliefs becoming law, regardless of other religious beliefs and practices also existing in America, is the unseparation of church and state.

So before you tell a polyamorous person "oh that's cheating with permission" or "I could NEVER do that," or "I love my partner too much to do that/cheat like that," remember that these are the institutions and the propaganda you're upholding with your judgement. Supporting/ being kind about polyamory is religious tolerance, and biting your thumb at the I*RS.

Tl:dr, the dissolution of separating of church and state, puritan culture and the sexism/homophobia associated with puritan culture is why nonmonogamy is demonized and why polygamy is illegal in America.

Tone indication/post intention: satirical and exaggerated tones criticizing longstanding institutions of oppression with the intent to explain why judging, hating or criticizing nonmonogamous practices is oppressive and a result of propaganda. This post is not intended to persuade people who practice monogamy to practice nonmonogamy instead or to demonize monogamy. It is intended to advocate for breaking the stigma around nonmonogamy.

[random-thought-depository]

""Moreover, it turns out that the United States is not all that tightfisted when it comes to social spending. “If you count all public benefits offered by the federal government, America’s welfare state (as a share of its gross domestic product) is the second biggest in the world, after France’s,” Desmond tells us. Why doesn’t this largesse accomplish more?

For one thing, it unduly assists the affluent. That statistic about the U.S. spending almost as much as France on social welfare, he explains, is accurate only “if you include things like government-subsidized retirement benefits provided by employers, student loans and 529 college savings plans, child tax credits, and homeowner subsidies: benefits disproportionately flowing to Americans well above the poverty line.” To enjoy most of these, you need to have a well-paying job, a home that you own, and probably an accountant (and, if you’re really in clover, a money manager).

“The American government gives the most help to those who need it least,” Desmond argues. “This is the true nature of our welfare state, and it has far-reaching implications, not only for our bank accounts and poverty levels, but also for our psychology and civic spirit.” Americans who benefit from social spending in the form of, say, a mortgage-interest tax deduction don’t see themselves as recipients of governmental generosity. The boon it offers them may be as hard for them to recognize and acknowledge as the persistence of poverty once was to Harrington’s suburban housewives and professional men. These Americans may be anti-government and vote that way. They may picture other people, poor people, as weak and dependent and themselves as hardworking and upstanding. Desmond allows that one reason for this is that tax breaks don’t feel the same as direct payments. Although they may amount to the same thing for household incomes and for the federal budget—“You can benefit a family by lowering its tax burden or by increasing its benefits, same difference”—they are associated with an obligation and a procedure that Americans, in particular, find onerous. Tax-cutting Republican lawmakers want the process to be both difficult and Swiss-cheesed with loopholes. (“Taxes should hurt,” Ronald Reagan once said.) But that’s not the only reason. What Desmond calls the “rudest explanation” is that if, for whatever reason, we get a tax break, most of us like it. That’s the case for people affluent and lucky enough to take advantage of the legitimate breaks designed for their benefit, and for the wily super-rich who game the system with expensive lawyering and ingenious use of tax shelters.

And there are other ways, Desmond points out, that government help gets thwarted or misdirected. When President Clinton instituted welfare reform, in 1996, pledging to “transform a broken system that traps too many people in a cycle of dependence,” an older model, Aid to Families with Dependent Children, or A.F.D.C., was replaced by Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, or TANF. Where most funds administered by A.F.D.C. went straight to families in the form of cash aid, TANF gave grants to states with the added directive to promote two-parent families and discourage out-of-wedlock childbirth, and let the states fund programs to achieve those goals as they saw fit. As a result, “states have come up with rather creative ways to spend TANF dollars,” Desmond writes. “Nationwide, for every dollar budgeted for TANF in 2020, poor families directly received just 22 cents. Only Kentucky and the District of Columbia spent over half of their TANF funds on basic cash assistance.” Between 1999 and 2016, Oklahoma directed more than seventy million dollars toward initiatives to promote marriage, offering couples counselling and workshops that were mostly open to people of all income levels. Arizona used some of the funds to pay for abstinence education; Pennsylvania gave some of its TANF money to anti-abortion programs. Mississippi treated its TANF funds as an unexpected Christmas present, hiring a Christian-rock singer to perform at concerts, for instance, and a former professional wrestler—the author of an autobiography titled “Every Man Has His Price”—to deliver inspirational speeches. (Much of this was revealed by assiduous investigative reporters, and by a 2020 audit of Mississippi’s Department of Human Services.) Moreover, because states don’t have to spend all their TANF funds each year, many carry over big sums. In 2020, Tennessee, which has one of the highest child-poverty rates in the nation, left seven hundred and ninety million dollars in TANF funds unspent."

- The New Yorker: "How America Manufactures Poverty" by Margaret Talbot (review of Matthew Desmond's Poverty by America).

[hazel-not-wong]

prosper headcanons!!

all of the states fought back against the invasion, but prosper was the one least affected. they also were the only state out of all four that never went into rationing for food.

instead, they had to go into rationing for clothing, because people were mass panic-buying fabric to the point were there was a state-wide shortage.

kissing is an accepted greeting. on the cheeks for friends and family, on the lips for romantic partners. public affectionate between friends is normalised and even expected.

romance is a really important thing in their culture. valentines day is a three-week affair, and marriage is encouraged to anyone above the age of 16 by the government by giving free housing to new couples, tax is halved, and couples which children get benefits.

however, divorce is illegal.

before the invasion, everything was super colourful. bright fabrics and expensive clothing were the norm. after the war, there was an economic downfall, which led to people being more resourceful.

they supply jewelry for the whole of the wintersea republic, and have the largest coal mines. (southlight has the second biggest.)

they already had a low population before the invasion, and it was severely affected by the war. because of this, having children is a societal expectation, and to be unmarried with no children is rare.

travelling through the states is rare, apart from prosper and great wolfrarce because they boarder each other. it's a popular holiday site, and young rich women often move to great wolfrarce to get married.

[scotianostra]

On 7th July 1307 King Edward I of England died on his last punitive expedition to Scotland at Burgh-on-Sands, near Carlisle.

The epitaph to Edward in Westminster Abbey, London, reads Edwardus Primus Scotorum Malleus hic est. - Edward the First, hammer of the Scots.

Apart from the wars of Independence Edward is remembered with disdain in Scotland for the theft of The Stone of Destiny from Moot Hill at Scone.In 1287 Alexander III, King of Scots, died suddenly after falling from his horse at Kinghorn. The succession crisis that followed presented Edward with a golden opportunity to expand on his conquest of Wales. With the absence of an immediate heir, the Scots throne looked likely to pass to Alexander's infant granddaughter, Margaret (the 'Maid of Norway') – the daughter of the King of Norway.

Rival Scottish claims for the right to succeed as the next monarch led to the Norwegians approaching Edward. Edward planned to wed his own son Edward to Margaret and thus control Scotland via matrimonial rights.

The Scots nobles, fearful of such a takeover, agreed that Margaret should be queen – but at the expense of Edward's marriage plans. Events were thrown into turmoil when Margaret died en route to Scotland.With the succession crisis still looming large and rival claimants still in fierce competition the Guardians of Scotland needed to find someone to adjudicate the claims and help break the deadlock. The perfect candidate was Edward.

As an internationally respected king and a recognised expert on legal matters of state Edward was a logical choice. With the benefit of hindsight this may seem to be the worst of decisions until you consider that England and Scotland had enjoyed an extended period of relatively peaceful co-existence. Claims of English overlordship over Scotland were seen to be a thing of the distant past. The Guardians were in for a very rude shock.In a series of political manouverings Edward insisted that he be recognised as feudal overlord of the Scots before a new Scots king be appointed. The Guardians refused but Edward, the legal expert, got his wish.

While there were two rival claimants (Robert Bruce and John Balliol) Edward's role was adjudicate. If there were more than two then, under medieval law, only a judge could be expected to pronounce a verdict. As a judge Edward had to have authority – and in royal matters authority meant overlordship.

Edward found other claimants for the vacant throne to put pressure on Bruce and Balliol. The plan worked and one by one they came forward to swear allegiance. From that point, with all principle claimants as his vassals, it did not matter who became king. Ultimately Balliol took the crown.

Edward's subsequent heavy-handed treatment of the Scots (demanding taxes and soldiers to help fight his wars) led to the first inklings of rebellion.

In 1295 the Scots signed a mutual aid treaty with France (later to be known as the Auld Alliance). This pact with Edward's enemy brought about swift retaliation from Edward.

Edward destroyed Berwick, slaughtering thousands of the town's inhabitants, before pushing deeper into scotland. The Scots met Edward in battle at Dunbar but was decisively beaten. In a similar tactic to those he had previously used to conquer Wales Edward stripped the country of its treasures and symbollic icons of nationhood as easily as he stripped Balliol of his status as king. Most notably the crown jewels and the Stone of Destiny was removed to be sent back to England. The message was clear – there was to be no other king in Scotland but Edward. Edward's campaigning, however, had left him seriously short of funds. He could no-longer afford to build costly castles to control his new domain as he had in Wales. He was also not reckoning on coming up against some proud Scots Edward had underestimated us. Within a year rebellions to English control broke out – notably led by Andrew Murray in the north and William wallace in the south of the country. Edward left the matter of crushing the rebellion to his representative, John de Warenne, rather than take control personally. At Stirling Bridge Warenne's force was routed by Wallace and Murray's army.

Edward marches north and took control of his army and defeated Wallace's army at Falkirk. Wallace was later captured and executed. Once again Edward assumed that Scotland was conquered.In Bruce Edward had met a formidable, ruthless and determined opponent

Despite ill health and advancing years Edward, Hammer of the Scots, marched his army north to rid himself of Bruce once and for all.

In 1307, with Scotland in sight, Edward died at Burgh-on-Sands. The campaign for the conquest of Scotland passed on to his son, Edward II. The Scots were relieved to find that the brutal and effective military prowess displayed by the father were absent in the son. In 1314 Bruce routed a larger English force at Bannockburn. Recognition of Scotland's sovereignty came years later in 1328.

Accounts credit Edward's dying wish to be that his bones sent to war against the Scots

When he fell ill he perceived he could not recover, he called on his eldest son, the future Edward II, , and made him swear, in presence of all his barons, by the Saints, that as soon as he should be dead,his son would have his body boiled in a large cauldron until the flesh should be separated from the bones; that he would have the flesh buried and the bones preserved; that every time the Scots should rebel against him, he would summon his people, and carry with him the bones of his father.

Historians now disagree with this count, some saying, like King Robert, his heart be taken to the Holy land on a crusade.

Anway it matters not which version you believe, Edward II promptly decided against this and took him homeward to think again

The third pic is a sketch by the English poet in 1774 when the dean and a group of history enthusiasts opened his tomb and examined the body finding it remarkably complete.

As I said there are differing versions of what Edward I wanted done with his remains but the stories of him wanting done with his heart and bones appear to have been simply medieval lore. The story of the English King relishing the death of Wallace while on his own deathbed is pure Hollywood, Sir William was put to death two years previously.

In the fourth pic you see a statue of Longshanks at Burgh-on-Sands, which I must admit I rather like.