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joonsytip · 9 months ago

Text

Only for Love || Mingyu - Part 3

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: character death, mentions of pregnancy, Mingyu acts dumb, reader goes through a whole lot of emotional turmoil, mentions of divorce, tears, profanities, major angst.

Word Count: 5.7k

@wongyuuu thanks a lot for brainstorming out this with me & happy birthday, love! 💕🎂

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Mingyu returns to an empty house. He waits for you for an hour, two hours and when the clock strikes midnight his mind clouds with concern. He fishes out his phone and ignoring the series of notifications that keeps on popping up, he calls you.

But with all his calls remaining unanswered, Mingyu surges in panic and calls Soonyoung who's extremely pissed and shows his discontentment through a dry, edgy reply.

"She left with Minghao."

That's the only line Mingyu hears before getting hung up. And Soonyoong does not pick up his call again.

And now he sits rooted to the couch, tapping feet in anxiety and worry with no idea about your whereabouts and who the hell is Minghao?

His thoughts bounce off the walls and he decides to take his car and drives off to find you aimlessly. He goes to your office only to be greeted by the security. He goes to the café you are regular at, knowing very well that it would be closed but he makes a round just for his sanity. He knocks on your apartment door but it's empty just like the house was.

Dejected he fishes out his phone to call your uncle when the notification of your name flashes on the screen.

'Meet me at home within fifteen minutes.'

There's no way he's gonna get home within the said timeframe but just as he rushes towards his car, his phone vibrates again.

'Half an hour. Don't run the red lights, don't run over people.'

Mingyu listens to your advice and thankfully he reaches you in one piece.

But he stands frozen as he sees you in the hallway carrying a duffle bag.

"Where were you?", no greetings, you ask checking your watch.

Mingyu knows you know and you know that he knows that you know.

"I had to leave with Sora."

"And who's she?"

Mingyu bites his tongue before answering, "My ex."

"What made you go somewhere with your ex rather than watch your wife getting felicitated?", your voice is calmer than usual and it scares your husband to the bones.

He stays silent. And you wait for him like you have all the time in the world.

"I can't tell you right now, Y/N. I'm sorry.", he answers quietly, lowering his gaze.

"Okay.", you say and Mingyu looks at you flabbergasted. Before he could speak, you add,"I'm going to stay at my uncle's."

Mingyu feels electrified, the sensation which burns his whole body, itches on his skin and scratches at the throat.

"I'm sorry, I know it is an unacceptable behaviour of me but please trust me. I haven't done anything to be ashamed of.", Mingyu grabs your hands and blabbers, "You can stay with your uncle but please tell me when you are going to return, that you're going to return."

You pull back your hands from his grip, "I don't think I'll be returning anytime soon.", you say sternly, "I had something to share with you but this isn't the right time."

"Y/N--"

"Before I leave, tell me one thing. Are you going to keep seeing her?"

Mingyu flares at this, "I'm not seeing her for fucks sake! I would never do something bad, I'm your husband."

You stare at him for a solid minute, "You didn't answer my question. Anyways, I'm disappointed. Keep yourself in my shoes and give it a thought."

"Let me drive you, it's late.", he offers.

"You don't have to worry about me, Minghao is already waiting with his car."

Mingyu twitches on hearing the name for the second time, "And who's that?"

"I can't tell you right now, Mingyu. I'm sorry.", you mimic his words from before and just as you are about to cross the threshold, you whisper shaking your head, "You can't even put yourself in my shoes..."

Mingyu watches you leave with a grim heart.

It's been a two weeks since you've been living with your uncle. And though you've left home in despair, Mingyu has somehow made it a mission to win back your trust.

But who's gonna tell him that you never doubted him, you were just mad, just like a teenage girl who can't keep her act straight in front of her love.

He calls you every night. For the first week you didn't pick up his calls but when your anger started to subside you entertained his calls but never spoke much, just listened to him telling how his day went. He asks every time if could visit you, getting a straight no as reply. He might be obedient but he's sneaky as hell because most of the times when you're getting off work you somehow see him engrossed with some conversation with Soonyoung at the parking.

What is he doing at your workplace almost everyday, when he could crash at Soonyoung's place. Why does Soonyoung have to call out your name every time when you're walking past them, roping you into some small talks.

Soonyoung is the imposter.

And why does everytime aa you are about to take leave after the conversation, Mingyu asks you the same question, "When are you returning?"

You never answer.

"You've gotta be kidding me!", Seokmin yelps. They all have gathered at Mingyu's place because everyone is stressed and wants to know what is actually happening.

"There are all sorts of rumours at the workplace. And I wanna punch everyone in the face.", Soonyoung says dejected, "Minghao and Y/N went to the same university so some are saying that they have dated during that time." he takes a chug from the can and continues, "And since Mingyu didn't show up at the event last time, it has sparked the speculations."

Mingyu sits head lowered, rubbing his hands all over the face.

"I'm sure Minghao likes her. I can tell by the way he looks at her.", Soonyoung puts it down.

"What about Y/N?", Mingyu asks his heart beating in his chest rapidly.

"What do you think dumbass?", Junhui glares at him.

"Woah, I'm offended now that you asked that question.", Hansol speaks in distaste.

"It's been a month without her.", Mingyu sighs, his lips curl down, eyes filled with concern, "I think everything was going back to normal, assuming by the way she responded, I felt like she'd be coming back anytime but she has gone radio silent suddenly. For the past two weeks she isn't responding to my calls or texts, she is even working from home."

"Yeah maybe Minhee can tell something", Junhui suggests, "But I doubt she'd spill anything if Y/N has told her not to."

The evening bleeds into night and the guys keep on chatting when suddenly Jeonghan who hasn't been much involved decides to speak.

"Now that Sora is back? What are you gonna do?"

The laughters die down and room falls silent with all the eyes on Mingyu.

"What's going on guys? Is there something we don't know?", Seokmin asks in fear.

Jeonghan leans back on the couch and looks at Mingyu, saying, "I think it's time, they should know. I'll go first, that day Mingyu left with Sora to meet me. Apparently, the guy Sora had left Gyu for turns out to be a douch. Won't go to the details but he kept blackmailing her, so desperate to save herself and afraid that I won't be meeting her if she went alone, she took him with her. I'm skipping the legal parts and that guy has been sort of taken care off. But that's not where it ends.", he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "The problem is that Sora wants him back now."

Gasps erupt through the room.

"Why did I see it coming though?", Seokmin says, "You have said no straight to her face right, Min?", he asks Mingyu.

The silence that follows horrifies every other one present in the room.

"Don't tell me...", Hansol trails off, eyeing his friend in utter disbelief.

"It's not what you're thinking.", Mingyu frowns, "I haven't said anything to Sora. But I have loved her for so long it's rolling back like a habit.", he hesitantly looks up and sees a bunch of disappointed faces, "But if it had been the previous me, I'd have gone to her in a snap but I'm changed now."

Mingyu gives a wry smile when looking at the relief washing over his friends.

"Here's the real deal begins. We have been married for over two years, in a few months we'd be hitting the three year mark. It's a long time right?", he sweeps his gaze across the large wedding frame of you both on the wall, "Instead of being a couple, I feel like living with a roommate. No feelings involved. She's stoic, nonchalant and even inconsiderate sometimes, even if I think that there's something between us, her actions act as bucket of cold water on those thoughts. I understand that not everyone is the same and I agree that Y/N has changed but somehow we're still at the starting point and it's starting to tire me out. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to this marriage--"

There's a sudden thud and all the necks turn in unison only to find you standing by the hallway and your bag on the ground.

Heartbreak is one thing but the humiliation is another form of descend you're currently facing. You return your home only to find your husband shit talking about how unhappy he is in this marriage to his friends.

And the biggest loss turns out to be how you're the only one who thought that it's a happy, perfect marriage. Your husband isn't wrong when he said that you're inconsiderate.

Tears prick at your eyes but aren't you stoic, nonchalant so why should the people infront of you get the leverage to see you vulnerable? They shouldn't, so you pick up your bag and walk past them going straight into the guest room.

There are continuous knocks on the door. Your phone keeps ringing but you pay mind to none. Your mind only reels the words of your husband from before.

The previous you would have stomped out of the house but now, you can't. The situation has changed, the circumstances are different and you are totally lost.

Because there's a life is growing inside you. The reason you decided to return home tonight but your second attempt at letting Mingyu know that he's gonna be a father cracks again. The first attempt was the night where Mingyu chose Sora over you. He doesn't want you, would he want to raise a child with you?

Maybe you shouldn't have gotten married, maybe you shouldn't have fallen in love with your husband and maybe she's better, the previous you who knew you're undesirable, who knew that people like you are unlovable, who very well knew how to maintain a boundary.

You have lost the track of time but you sure can hear voices from the other side of the door. You think attachment is something you can't effort, you are not people's people.

So that's how what Mingyu had said, you turned into his roommate. Since that day, you have settled in the guest room. You don't get out of your room unless it's an emergency. You leave for work early and return home at late hours.

You haven't spoken to Mingyu since that day. You've rejected all his advances of striking a conversation. But you're thankful to him for making you food everyday because you can't eat anything else, it makes you nauseous.

"Hey, are you okay?", Minghao asks worried as he takes a sit beside you at the cafeteria of the office, "You have been throwing a lot."

You nod your head, avoiding his gaze, "I'm fine."

Minghao doesn't buy your words but you both settle in the comfortable silence and until he gasps.

You cock brows looking at him.

"Are you pregnant?", he gasps, "Oh my god."

You freeze and slap your hand over his mouth and proceed to tell him everything that has been happening.

"So Mingyu doesn't know yet. And he's being a jerk ever since his ex-girlfriend returned.", Minghao says in anger. He sweeps a gaze across your face and his eyes soften, "You love him, don't you?"

You avoid his gaze again, you don't answer him.

A sad smile graces on his lips as he reminiscences the past. How he had practically clinched himself in your life. How he had fallen in love with you but knew that you wouldn't reciprocate, the reason why he disappeared abruptly from your life years ago. The apologies are always on the tip of his tongue for leaving you alone, for creating the safe place but also leaving it void.

"You know you shouldn't be taking stress. I know it's not easy but I'd suggest for you both to sort things out, atleast for the baby.", he says patting your back in a comforting manner, "If Mingyu does anything to hurt you again, tell me I'll beat him for you."

"Thanks Hao.", you say smiling.

"Also let me know if Soonyoung bothers you. I'll handle him as well."

You shake your head laughing, "He insufferable Hao, you'll give up."

"We'll see that.", he smiles softly, "But do plan on telling him. Uncle also needs to know, he'd be so happy."

"I want the baby's father to know first. Then I'll tell everyone.", you assure him.

Mingyu knows he went overboard. He knows he was being an absolute asshole when he uttered those baseless words in your favour.

Maybe he should never have compared the type of relationship he had with Sora with the one he's having with you. It's a grave mistake and the lack of your presence is taking a toll on him. But he understands if you need space or even don't want to see his face. He's willing to give you all that but he plans to apologise to you and if you don't forgive him, he'd understand.

Work is hectic but the situation at home is feverish. He has been getting earfuls from all of his friends and family, specially Minhee. She has been giving him shit routinely.

His reverie breaks when he receives a text from you. Hurriedly opening the text, his eyes widen with a mixture of horror and anticipation.

'Come home as soon as possible. I have something to tell you.'

His mind could only hint at it being something ominous.

You pace around the entire house nervously.

"Mingyu, I'm pregnant. You're gonna be father."

You shake head at the selection of words.

"Congratulations! You're going to be a dad!"

Sounds too exciting for an unplanned pregnancy.

"You're pull out game was weak. Guess what I'm pregnant."

Too snappy, rejected.

"Kim Mingyu, you're pregnant, I will be-- wait what no-- I'm pregnant, we're expecting."

You sit down pulling your hair in frustration.

After another hundred million failed rehearsals you sort to say whatever your heart would feel like at the moment in his presence.

But where's Mingyu? You check the clock, it's past his work hours. Maybe he's running late for some reason. It's your third attempt to tell him about your pregnancy and you hope that you'd succeed this time.

Your phone rings and you would never have guessed that your world would come crashing down.

You stand with head your head bowed down the entire time at the funeral hall. The band wrapped around your arm acts as a constant reminder that you're the chief mourner. You don't raise your head, not ready the see the picture that's kept on the board.

The heart attack was so brutal that it claimed the life of your uncle without a chance of revival. When you were informed he was already gone.

No last words, no goodbyes. Now you're left with only his photo and memories. You walk into the room where his body is kept as you've made a special request to let you meet him before he's taken into the coffin.

He's almost unrecognisable as you sit beside the body. Gently caressing his head, you finally let the tears fall.

"You were so eager to meet everyone that you left me alone here.", you sob, "What do I do without you now?"

You caress his cheeks gently, "Whatever I have become it's because of you. Even though I was the reason they died, you took me in and raised me like our own."

"I have something to tell.", your hands place themselves back on his head, "I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a grandparent. Tell mom, dad and aunt that I have grown up. Tell Sejin that he's gonna be an uncle."

You spend some more last moments with your uncle before there's a knock on the door. You quickly wipe the tears and look up to see Mingyu standing at the threshold.

"It's time.", he says solemnly.

You nod and look back at your uncle saying, "Thank you for everything. Have a nice reunion with everyone up there. Forgive me if I have been a bad daughter. Goodbye comrade."

You don't like the pitiful look everyone throws at you. You hate it, it claws on your skin and you feel like throwing up. Running into the washroom, you sit down opening the lid to empty your stomach when you feel your hairs being pulled back in gentle grip.

It's Mingyu, you know even though even without seeing him. He doesn't care about entering a ladies washroom when he has to look for you.

"Here, drink some water.", he uncaps the bottle and offers it to you.

He's presence is somewhat comforting, he makes things bearable. Your uncle is laid beside the rest of your family and you request everyone to be left alone. It's night time when you leave the place only to see Mingyu waiting for you.

There's silence throughout the ride back to home, no words spoken when he makes you eat something he cooked when you were showering, unspoken words when you go back your room and he goes back to his.

You mourn for days and while you do so you take notice of a lot of things.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for that day. I didn't mean anything I said, I was just being an idiot.", Mingyu says after barging into your room one night because he had enough. He decides he won't let you suffer alone anymore.

You nod your head, "It's okay.", your short and curt reply doesn't settle well with your husband.

"I know one apology isn't enough and I understand if you won't forgive me but please let me be there for you.", he pleads closing the gap and taking your hands within his. His eyes searches for your face and his brows crease when he finds you avoiding eye contact.

You pull back your hands out of his grip, "I can take care of myself, Mingyu."

Your call of name rings oddly in his ear. It's rare for you to call him by name, it's always husband when throwing banter or Gyu while being affectionate.

Affectionate? His mind reels in the moment. Aren't you unexpressive then how could his mind produce that word in your wake?

"I'm tired. Let's call it a night.", you say poised, "There's no need for an apology. Everyone has the right to voice out about anything they don't like."

Mingyu feel like he's not your husband rather an office colleague. Your tone is so formal and dry. Your words cut him like a dagger. He wonders if he has caused damaged beyond repair.

It's so fucked up that he wants to hold you sleep, say sweet nothings to calm your senses but he's afraid to ask you to come back to the master bedroom.

So he lets you bask in your own company. He'll interfere with your personal space for sure one day, hustle in forcefully if you don't let him, no matter how rude and irritating it is, he'll mend the broken bond.

His heart breaks when he notices that you don't look him in the eyes anymore. You always had a strong lively gaze, but they are now hollow. You don't call him when you're struggling to open the jar, you don't ask for him when you can't reach something kept on the top shelf.

His friends are all dejected at how you don't indulge them anymore, they're sad at how they don't get to see you nowadays.

Mingyu had attempted to gauze you out of the coop by inviting the guys to the apartment. But you had locked yourself in the room the whole time.

His parents lament on how he ruined something so beautiful, his sister cries at how you don't communicate with even her nowadays.

He's already going crazy and Sora's pestering him by showing up outside his workplace often or making thousands of phone calls almost everyday, makes him ponder upon how was he even in love with her at some point.

He regrets again, now that he can clearly see the difference. You are you, the actual indifference you're showing is now and it's driving him crazy.

He wants to fix this. He needs to fix both of you because he needs you.

You're in the middle of some paperwork when there's a knock on the cabin door.

Soonyoung enters and the look that you give him is sharp enough to scare him off.

"How have you been doing?"

"Breathing fine, alive."

He should have taken the clue and left but it's Soonyoung and he lives as if he has nine lives.

"We miss you, please stop ghosting us."

"I'm not ghosting anyone."

"Minhee is miserable."

The writing stops, your hand halts for a moment before continuing. Soonyoung knocks on the table demanding your attention on him.

You sigh, having no option but look at him.

"You can be mad at your husband but we didn't do anything, Y/N. I don't even know Mingyu, I'm your friend."

The corner of your lips threaten to curl up. Your heart twinges and you smile sadly, "It's better to be prepared ahead so that you all will get accustomized to it later. Attachments are always painful."

Soonyoung looks at you quizzically, "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing.", you drew yourself back in the papers, "I have a meeting in ten minutes, I need to go over these documents before that."

Soonyoung maybe callous at times but somehow seeing you and hearing your words today makes him bothered.

Another weak passes and you are packing your bags the entire time little by little, unknown to Mingyu because your door is always locked. Your office room is almost empty except for the systems. When Mingyu's not at home, you roam in the bedroom, swaying in the memories you both made there. You lay on the bed, sniffing the pillows because they smell like him.

You crave his touch all the time and him being in your vision doesn't help at all when you could sense the longing in his eyes.

Mingyu doesn't know that you've stolen one of his shirts and a hoodie. He should never find out.

Your soul knows. It tells you that it’s time to distance yourself from those who no longer align with you mentally, emotionally or physically.

"I can't stay here.", you whisper to yourself as you continue to pack rest of the items.

"I'm cursed.", you frantically wipe your tears, "People related to me keep dying."

Your body shakes, eyes producing another batch of fresh tears, "No one should be associated with me. I need to cut everyone out of my life for their sake. Without me, they'd be safe."

You heave a breath, in an attempt to calm yourself, "Mingyu doesn't like me anyways. I'm just a burden. He'll be free once I leave, he can be with Sora.", you rub your chest as it stings, "He'll be happy and that is what I want."

Your gaze instinctively lands on your belly, hands gently rubbing circles, "I promise, even if we won't be together, me and your dad will try our best to raise you. I can't wait to meet you, to hold you."

Mingyu, on the other hand is set on winning you back. He knows you don't like anything extravagant, so he plans to surprise you out a romantic date at home. He's ready to go to the lengths to make you forgive him. He craves your presence, your touch, your shy smiles, the way you call him when you want something from him.

He wants to love you, wants to make love to you. He has been dreaming a lot about starting a family with you. He wants the little versions of you both running around the house. When his friends took the initiative to show him how he has changed and it's for better he knows that it's true. He wonders if all the frustrations were because his heart wasn't ready to seek out the real feelings.

But now he has figured it all out, he likes you, likes you a lot. So he wants this marriage to work out.

He hopes for you to like him back. So who's gonna tell him the truth?

Some free time at work and he's watching new recipes to cook for you. Before going to bed, he's open the phone gallery and goes over your pictures, the pictures which are candid, the ones in which you posed, the best where he's with you in them.

Would you like it, if he throws pebble at your window and serenades you at the middle of the night? Would it be a good idea if goes down on his knees because he hasn't done it before and know he wants to.

Mingyu is all giddy making up scenarios in his head. He wishes to watch them all happen successfully.

"Are you having mood swings?", Jeonghan asks him one day when everyone gathers at the former's home, "Or do you have dissociative identity disorder? You were regretting getting married to her some weeks back and now you're saying that you like her?"

Junhui is grumpy, he takes a look at Mingyu and smacks him hard on his head causing the later to scream out in pain.

"He claims he is the most closest to Y/N and he is grieving because she is not responding to his texts.", Seokmin clarifies and eyes Mingyu in disbelief, "Seriously dude, what's wrong with you? How can you mess up this bad?"

Before Mingyu could speak up, Hansol interjects, "How hard it is to sort out your feelings? How could you even utter such ridiculous things about her when you know how difficult it had been for her, the whole life. Now she even lost her uncle. Imagine listening to your husband yapping about how much he dislikes you when you think he is one you can lean on? And that too instead of voicing out your mind to her first, she heard you telling it to us."

Hansol is a calm man, he never loses his cool except for some situations and this being one of it.

"It's not only me and Jun. Everyone is upset.. I know I'm making it sound bigger, we know that she is your wife, first and our friend, second but we can see that even though she never shows it she cares a lot. I'll tell you no one has ever entertained me constantly to help me, not even you guys. She even suggested me tools that she thought might help me with the editing though she had to invest time on getting to that point. She gifted Jun a diffuser as the previous one was causing him throat irritation but he was too stubborn to discard a newly bought machine."

Seokmin adds up to Hansol, "Didn't she help you with the paperwork late at night even though you both work in an entirely different industry? I'm sorry but did Sora ever do that being in the same line of work? No right. If you would have noticed she has always tried to accomodate herself within us even when it was difficult, it was all new to her."

Mingyu sinks his face into the palm of his hands, as he says regretfully, "I made a huge mistake. I let my intrusive thoughts win and ended up hurting her."

"What if it's too late to fix things?", Soonyoung speaks, his vision dazed as your words from before keeps reeling in his mind, "You should resolve the matters before it's too late."

The following week is hectic for Mingyu. The clients are visiting and everyone has to stay late attending them. It's a whole damn hustle, draining the employees out. The week goes on and out with him spending most of the time in office when all he wants is to go home just to see your face.

It's the last day of the visit and Mingyu thanks the heavens. He's usually patient but now all he wants is to avail the comfort of his home.

It's around one at night but unlike other times the hallway is lit in dim lights flooding into the dining. There's an eerie silence and something unpleasant awaits.

"Let's get divorced."

When Mingyu came home late at that night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.

Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. He almost misses your words. If not for your next words, he would think he's hallucinating.

"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."

Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.

"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"

Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing its third anniversary. Do you really want to be tied in this marriage?"

Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words. He knows its not because of something he had said that day.

A familiar set of papers lying on the table catches his attention. His gaze then turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.

"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.

"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce. Oh, you already have Jeonghan."

As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.

"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear his voice laced in frustration, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."

You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act now that I know the truth."

Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.

"You signed a contract with my uncle in exchange for marrying me.", you chuckle bitterly, "All you wanted was the stocks of the company uncle owned, a goddamn promotion, this house, everything else but me. I was never on the list. I was just a pawn. I don't know what my uncle saw in you to desperately marry me off to you. I hope all of this was worth it. The stocks must have passed down to you smoothly as it can only be acquired by someone working in the company. You can keep this house, keep everything."

"Y/N--"

"I don't wanna hear anything. I was waiting for you to come back so that I could make you aware that you're busted. I'll to go bed."

Mingyu reaches out for you again but you lay out a hand, "Please, I'm tired."

"O-Okay.", Mingyu backs down noticing the resignation in your demeanor, "But we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."

But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

645 notes · View notes

midnightshindig · 11 days ago

Note

Can I request marriage proposal hcs for Cecil, Donald, Rex, and Mark? Like just quick "this is how they would propose, where, now they're feeling" thing

Cecil, Donald, Rex and Mark Proposal hcs!!

okay quick rapid fire, following a strict format!

Cecil

Where?:

either AT the GDA or some shit like a fancy restaurant he rented out just for you

either way a SUPER private proposal

After how long?:

Cecil would wait a WHILE before proposing

think 4-10 years

How?:

Cecil gets someone to custom design you a ring based on the pinterest board he found on your account

gives you a very curt speech that sounds a little like a business proposal

but then he takes a heavy, anxious breath and drops his shoulder

"Y/n, I can't do this without you. And I love you. and finding those two things in the same person doesn't happen twice. I wanna do right by you. Can I be your husband?"

(The rest under the cut!)

Donald

Where?:

Probably a nice restaurant with people populating it

or somewhere really casual like a drive in movie

he probably took you there a lot on dates early in your relationship

After how long?:

Donald, like Cecil, is pragmatic and older (hc like his early 40s) than Rex and Mark

He'd wait a sensible 2-3 years before proposing

honestly, finding out he's a cyborg is probably what pushes him over the edge into proposing

How?:

The wedding ring is forged from the specific type of metal used to make his skeleton

He gets one of those trinket boxes from like hobby lobby or smth, but not a traditional ring box

Probably opens the ring box and just stares at you

for like a good minute

before it occurs to him that duh he has to, yknow.... ask?

"...Y/n- Will you marry me?"

He just stares at you with that dumb ass placid look on his face

but inside he's SWEATING

his glasses are fogged as fuck

Rex

Where?:

Probably somewhere relatively remote

like the Teen Team tower/bridge

Or where you had your first date

After how long?:

he's impulsive but NOT commital

you'd have to be dating for like.... 4 years before he'll propose

selfishly that's because some part of him is waiting to see if he'll fuck it up and cheat

before he realizes this is for real and he really adores you

like yeah he wants to tie your ass down ofc he does

plans the proposal in a week flat

How?:

boy is broke, you get fancy Target wedding ring

cost him 20 of Rudy's dollars

he puts on a firework show for you, along with some of his cooking for a picnic date

Gets down on one knee as the firework finale occurs, makes a big thing of it

"Y/n- I know I'm a total jackass and I can be annoying- I don't know how you deal with me. But you're the best person I've ever met and I want to be with you forever. Soooo, will you marry me?"

cocky grin with a glimmer of anxiety in his eyes

please say yes

Mark

Where?:

Somewhere only he can take you

if you can breath in space, then the moon

but otherwise, the top of a mountain or the Eifel Tower is not out of reach

After how long?:

Mark is a romantic at heart

Probably between 8 months and two years?

I DOUBT longer than that

I only say 2 years because of Debbie

How?:

He proposes with Debbie's wedding ring

Which, in and of itself is a family heirloom from her side of the family

He goes out of his way to take you on the most fantastical date

An activity and then dinner and then dessert and then he flies you around, laying on his stomach as he cruises backwards through the air

Its some "a whole new world" type shit

He takes you to-- we'll assume the Eifel Tower-- and gets on one knee

pulls out notecards

"ahem- Y/n-" ass mf

Literally the lengthiest, corniest speech ever

"I'm so grateful for that day, the day I met you and you changed my life forever."

this goes one a WHILE

"Marriage is the bond between two people who make each other better. I am better in every way with you in my life. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Pure anxiety in his face, you can see the crinkle of self doubt in his eyes

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tealvenetianmask · 3 months ago

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Stolas Makes Decisions Alone

I'm here to predict more problems ahead for Stolas. But don't worry- I do think he'll get through them because of character growth.

Stolas has a pattern of taking drastic actions that he believes are right and getting so caught up in his own point of view that he doesn't really listen to anyone else. I don't think he realizes this about himself. As much as he's now dealing with the consequences of his decisions at the end of Season 2, he hasn't yet learned that he can't go it alone. That he needs to communicate with the people his decisions impact- namely Blitz and Octavia, the people he cares for most. What I'm saying is, even though he's not the only one, our lovely owl man is a misunderstanding factory.

As for why he's like this, I have some ideas, but first, let's quickly go over the ways we've seen this behavior play out in HB.

It's treated as kind of light in Season 1 . . . despite being great with words, he's a lousy communicator because he gets carried away with his own ideas.

In Murder Family, Stolas has no idea that Blitz is panicking and . . . yes, I believe feeling pressured in this moment, even if he likes the deal later. In Loo Loo Land, he doesn't pay attention to Octavia's (not subtle) reactions enough to realize that no, she does not want to go to Loo Loo, and she absolutely doesn't want to bring the person Stolas cheated with along as a bodyguard. Also . . . as soon as Stolas listens to Octavia here, their communication improves, and Octavia is allowed to decide on the next father daughter activity.

The independent decision making tendency becomes more serious . . . tragic . . . in The Full Moon.

Stolas goes into the episode with a plan to do what he believes is right (freeing Blitz from himself), and he's so set on it that he blindsides the guy and shuts him out at the first hint of rejection, unable to pay enough attention to realize that it's . . . not actually rejection, just another wounded person reacting to a sudden change, since the entire decision making process already happened inside Stolas's mind.

Okay . . . Mastermind and Sinsmas.

I'm letting him off the hook for Mastermind, because he had only seconds to do something to save Blitz's life. I don't think he's wrong here. BUT symbolically, in the courtroom, Stolas rarely looks at Blitz. Someone who loves him is standing behind him, and there are moments of recognition between them, but Stolas still faces the decision, and his fate, alone.

In Sinsmas, we get the most blatant version of this kind of decision making. Yes, I know he's off his meds and going through a lot. He could have waited a few more minutes for Blitz to get back and talked through his decision to march up to his palace and demand to see his daughter. Blitz could have helped him calm down, and they could've had a conversation and decided on the best way to do it.

But that isn't how Stolas makes decisions. It isn't how he's EVER made decisions. Helping Stolas would put Blitz in danger, or Blitz might try to convince him to wait. So in Stolas's mind, if it's a choice between being kept from his daughter and dying alone by Andrealphus's hand, well . . .

There's so much that could be discussed here. Medication/depression. Suicidality. Autism . . . does this pattern stem in part from difficulty reading social cues?

These are all topics worth analyzing but . . . here's one thing that I think is at the core of Stolas's character regardless of the situation or other factors.

Stolas had all of his decisions made for him for his entire life. No one consulted him. Ever. Not about his career. Not about his marriage. Not about how he would choose to behave and conduct himself in the world.

Then when he was somewhere between 18 and 20, he had a child. And suddenly, his decisions mattered. Not in the big ways for himself. He still had to carry out all of his responsibilities. But he could decide how to raise this kid (Stella wasn't really interested in raising her after all). He could do everything in his power to make her childhood joyful, to make her feel loved, to teach her that she could be herself.

The problem is, making decisions for a kid doesn't make you a great collaborative decision maker. Being a parent means being an authority. He wasn't totalitarian like his own father, but there wasn't really anyone to honestly talk through his decisions and process his emotions with. So he's spent 35ish years never making a decision with someone else.

He's also rich and powerful, and that both keeps him isolated and gives him . . . a somewhat outsized view of his own importance and ability to control situations, in my opinion.

But now Octavia is 17, and making decisions that impact her without adequately communicating doesn't really work anymore.

And the other person he loves is Blitz. And yes, Mastermind is an exception, but Blitz usually doesn't need to be rescued or protected. He certainly doesn't need to be protected from Stolas (i.e. The Full Moon). He needs a partner. And Stolas needs one too.

So yeah, until Stolas learns to communicate (or at least learns that it's necessary) I worry about what he'll go off and do on his own.

Note: please don't take this as me blaming EVERYTHING on Stolas. Blitz and Octavia both have some responsibility for the miscommunications that go on. I just think this particular tendency of Stolas's is interesting and wanted to explore it.

#helluva boss #my helluva meta #stolas #octavia #stolas goetia #stolitz #blitz #Discussion is welcome but #read the whole thing before you comment please

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artytaeh · 9 months ago

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honeymoon!Mattheo? Also I'm so obsessed with your pages aesthetic, especially since I've been on this app for like 3 years and just changed my profile picture... anyways adore you and your writing <3

this is so sweet! i melt everytime i reread this rq, i swear. tysm for reading my posts and accompanying my writing, also for requesting 🌷 honeymoon!theo was a silly shower thought— i didn't plan to do a version of it. however, since you're asking, i just can't say no; so i hope that you like it, love! ♡

warnings: includes smut, so obviously it's advised for +18 readers; read at your own risk. brief mentions of trauma from being the son of bellatrix lestrange + the dark lord.

honeymoon!mattheo who felt like these next two weeks outside england, just the two of you, were like a blessing after your wedding day— don't get me wrong, mattheo riddle feels like the luckiest motherfucker to have been the one to marry you, the man who put that ring on your finger and to see you walking down the aisle to him. even so, fucking hell, how can a celebration for your marriage be so, so exhausting for the two of you? mattheo himself begged you to take off those heels; it was paining him to see you in them after so many hours, really!

honeymoon!mattheo who was ecstatic at the idea of going out of the country with you, of all people. sure, he's been out of england: he studied at hogwarts, which is in scotland; italy too, courtesy of theodore's invitations to spend a few weeks or most of the summer break at his family's estate; that one time that draco bragged about his wealth and took all of his friends to spend weekends or some days somewhere through europe. but travelling with you? that's different. this isn't a vacation with the boys; he's on his way to enjoy two paradisical weeks with the love of his life— just. the. two. of you.

honeymoon!mattheo who planned these vacations with you — where do you wanna go? how long would you like to stay? would you rather somewhere to rest and do nothing, or travelling around? truthfully, mattheo had his own preferences; as fun as it is to explore new places and unraveling different cultures, mattheo was a bit (a lot more) into seeing you in bikini most of the day. visiting a city or some nearby mexican tourist attraction is totally fine by him; a few were chosen by the two of you during a rainy day, cuddling on the sofa as you and him daydream about the sound of waves, sunny days and heat tanning your skins. with a laptop in front of you, mattheo checklists and makes notes of whatever was decided that day.

honeymoon!mattheo who jumps straight to the bed as soon as you arrive to the hotel's bedroom. soon, strong arms pull you close to him; mattheo spends some minutes like this with you, cuddling and feeling you close, nevermind how warm it is in mexico during this time of the year, not giving a flying fuck if you two are sweaty. mattheo riddle needs to rest after so many bloody hours inside a plane, and dealing with the airport's burocracy. fuck, there's a fucking spell for everything in the wizarding world, how come no one found a better way to travel between two continents already?!

honeymoon!mattheo who has his arm around your waist at all times. walking together? mattheo is there, hugging your waist, matching his usual long strides to your calmer pace, making sure that you're the one leading the speed of your walk. taking a stroll on a nearby city or exploring the streets? mattheo riddle won't unwrap his arm from your waist, fingers gently tracing the curve of your side, as you two comment about the beautiful streets you walk by and how good all of these restaurants smell. and, well, if his arm becomes bothersome because of the heat, mattheo is happy to hold your hand— as soon as it becomes sweaty, mattheo himself moves to your other side, to take your other hand in his, nevermind if he has to repeat this ritual every five minutes.

honeymoon!mattheo who drags you to play on the beach with him! this man will proudly buy a kid's kit for himself: a set with beach toys, including a bucket, shovels and other stuff to build castles on the damp sand. obviously, the set is green, if there's that color option— hey, all of those years as a slytherin, wearing a green tie on a daily basis, got him a little attached to the color, alright?!

honeymoon!mattheo who looks like a man preparing himself to go to war, as you patiently massage the sunscreen on his face, warm shoulders and back, along with the rest of his body; you don't trust your husband to apply the sunscreen correctly, since mattheo is all too impatient to go have fun. he does the same to you, of course; pulling you to his lap, big hands making sure that your smooth thighs are protected by the sunscreen— maybe a little too much, since you grow suspicious that mattheo caresses your thighs for a moment longer than necessary. hey, he's a man in love; can't a husband appreciate his wife's beautiful body?!

honeymoon!mattheo who lowkey tries to learn how to speak spanish, or at least simple phrases; thank you, hello, please, and perhaps being a little more observant to catch a curse word or two. god forbid mattheo catches on how to compliment you— now, each time you show your outfit, smile or do something as simple as existing near mattheo riddle, he grins and dramatically pronounces: 'guapissima! bonita, muy bonita.' — sneaking a squeeze on your bottom, pressing your body closer to his. you'd be at least a little annoyed, if mattheo's bambi eyes weren't so full of love for you. you know he means every single praise that rolls out of his mouth.

honeymoon!mattheo who sleeps a little more peacefully now, in mexico, far away from london and the looming notion of his ancestry. here, a continent away from his lunatic of a mother, oceans away from the knowledge of being the dark lord's son, mattheo riddle relaxes. you're married now; away from the chaos. during your wedding day, mattheo was terrified that something would tarnish this happiness with you. being physically away from all of that, on a country where no one blinks an eye at the surname riddle, mattheo is able to relax and let go of the overthinking habit he created since childhood. mattheo riddle isn't a cursed child anymore— at least not here with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who buys a lot of souvenirs. at least for theodore, he gets something that he knows that his best friend would find funny too; perhaps one or two things for his slytherin friends. then a lot of bracelets, or whatever the fuck you happen to stare for a few seconds. sundresses become part of your wardrobe, too, since mattheo argues that is sinful to not have you wearing such flattering clothes, choosing colors that you like the most, and compliment you the best.

🗯️ : matt, this is the third dress you're about to buy for me. i already have enough!

m : nonsense. you don't have any on this color, do you? besides, it's fancy to say 'hey, see this dress? my husband got it for me from mexico'; i'm helping you to brag, woman!

honeymoon!mattheo who hugs you from behind in the pool, trailing kisses from your left shoulder, cheek, neck, shoulder blades, until he does the same to the other side. he's not even attempting to convince you to lustful things— mattheo is just so in love with you. should an older couple or bitter tourists side-eye any of you, mattheo will kiss your cheek for a moment longer, staring menacingly to whoever is nosy enough to notice him and his wife. mattheo riddle, as always, doesn't even have to open his mouth; his serious expression and dark eyes being enough of a warning. as soon as they avert their gaze, mattheo goes back to the task at hand: kissing every inch of you with that silly little smile of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes full advantage of the jacuzzi on your bedroom. you should have expected it, as soon as dark eyes shine with mischief, a wolfish grin on his lips as mattheo riddle inevitably plans ahead— hours later, you'll find out exactly what was going through that devilish mind of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who is safe to say that fully enjoyed the warm water at night— calloused hands placed on your hips, thumbs brushing soothing circles on your hipbones as mattheo takes in the sight of you, naked on top of him, guiding your movements as you bounce on his length. mattheo fights the urge to tilt his head back and close his eyes, wanting to drown himself in the sensation of you so tight, so warm and wet around him— but then, he'd lose the bewitching vision of you, so mattheo bites his lip while his hands move lower and lower, greedily squeezing your bottom, hands full of the smooth, soft skin. mattheo watches you so intensely, that you're almost shy under his gaze; his strong arms embrace you so close to him, lips bruising the skin of your neck, collarbone, chest (and for a moment, you wonder if wearing a bikini would be safe tomorrow, giving each reddening, becoming purple hickey left on you) as he whispers against your wet skin. 'so pretty— such a good girl for me, aren't you? riding your husband so, so well. so wet and tight for me, huh? moan for me, baby. let me hear all of your pretty moans, hm?'

honeymoon!mattheo who is so gentle with you afterwards. without even having to ask, mattheo carried you back to the bedroom, patting your body with gentle movements so that the towel absorbs the water from your body, cooing at you. despite your tired demeanor, sore legs recovering on the comfortable mattress— mattheo riddle is all too energetic and blissfully satisfied, massaging your smooth skin with a body cream of yours; and trust me, it takes everything within him to not tease you, holding back any 'fun' comments about you after three rounds that got you absolutely wrecked.

honeymoon!mattheo who dedicated a part of these few days to read one of your favorite books. you see, mattheo riddle isn't really one to take reading as a hobby; at most, mattheo would have fun spending the afternoon at some bookstores to read bd, mainly about superheroes, or the ones that blaise brought from school breaks to lend to him. apart from that, mattheo's hobbies mostly revolve around drawing or listening to music— but he's making an effort for you, alright?! he is! look, he read five pages today, while you were tanning!

honeymoon!mattheo who brought a camera with him for the sole purpose to have photos with you during these weeks; as much as he adores all of your wedding photos, either with you, his best friends and other guests— this honeymoon with you must have physical evidence, not wanting to depend on his memory alone. mattheo plans to show most of them (*cough* the appropriate ones) to your children, if you ever have kids together, that is. the camera and him are present at the same place, at all times; like symbiosis, mattheo has the camera by his side to never lose the opportunity of a good photo of you.

photos of you while you're sleeping, dressing up or changing clothes, while you're relaxing on a chair near the pool to tan, swimming, at night with a flower tucked on your hair— one that mattheo picked up for you and fixed behind your ear. mattheo riddle will come back home with enough photos to decorate a wall. there's photos of you two together, too; silly selfies with you, some of them while you're sleeping by his side or on his chest, others blissfully taken by other tourists who offered such a favor. mattheo loves every single one of them.

honeymoon!mattheo who discovered that breakfast could be delivered in bedroom, four days after waking up a little earlier to shower, dress up and go downstairs to have the first meal of the day. ever since mattheo discovered such a wonder, never again— fuck that. he's having breakfast on the bed with you, requesting the staff to put an extra portion of your favorite fruits, which he'd then feed to you while the two of you are lazying on the bed after a shower, talking about whatever.

honeymoon!mattheo who suddenly doesn't hate that much anymore. at hogwarts, first years were a headache; little tiny humans that mattheo had to be careful to not bump against, or else they'd fall to the floor and god forbid professor mcgonagall saw it, should anyone accuse him of bullying. first years were also troublesome at the bloody hogwarts' train, running around like hipper active insects— however, this one little boy that came running up to you, giving you a flower? mattheo riddle couldn't help but smile, a smug grin on his lips as he crouches down:

m : hey, little dude— this beautiful woman is taken. hasn't your mother told you that flirting with a married woman is wrong? the husband might get you in trouble, you know.

honeymoon!mattheo who would complain a little less about the kids running around or simply existing around the hotel. there was this one little girl he saw at the pool, while you were getting drinks; curly hair, soft cheeks that remind him of your beautiful face— mattheo riddle is a weak man, and ever since then... baby fever. suddenly, the idea of a tiny human that is the perfect mixture of you and him, doesn't sound so scary anymore. i mean, if you and him ever had a baby, it'd be the most beautiful kid to exist; mattheo reasons that not having such a blessed child would be illegal, a heartbreaking loss to this world! (correction: a small sized demon that inherits mattheo riddle's troublemaker nature, and your charm that'll get them out of trouble ever. single. time.)

honeymoon!mattheo who tries at least once every single drink and cocktail at the bar. and more than that, makes you try them with him, which becomes a game of creating a tier list of the whole menu. mattheo will get you the colorful ones, being aware of your taste— and should you dislike alcoholic drinks, well, mattheo is a man that is unknowingly considerate, making sure to taste the drink first (so that he's sure that it tastes good, according to your preferences, of course), before giving it to you. lowkey, mattheo riddle who becomes a bit obsessed with those drinks straight from the coconuts— he might have like, seven photos of that, some of them being selfies with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes you dancing. hands on your hips, feeling as you sway them, gripping at them each time that mattheo riddle has to take a deep breath to not get a hard-on in the middle of the dancefloor. if possible, he'll learn how to dance the bachata with you— be it by a free class at the hotel or some bar, or even just by staring at an experienced couple dancing with ease. mattheo would be so happy to dance with you, twirling you around and pulling you closer to him, your noses brushing as mattheo looks at you with such intensity; the love of his life, this goddess in his arms. physically can't listen to one of those latino songs without immediately pulling you to dance a little with him; fuck the stares that you might receive.

honeymoon!mattheo who wants to live right here, at mexico.

m : fuck england, let's ditch london.

🗯️ : mattheo, darling, we can't do that.

m : why not?! here's the best— no rain, no people bothering us. why can't we just fuck and chill every day like we do here?

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🌿 ’

౨ৎ spend the summer of a lifetime with me ♡ ͡

let me take you to the place of my dreams . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— ever since i posted my masterlist i've been receiving some requests; i didn't expect so many so soon! tysm for reading and requesting to my blog; i'll do my best to write and post each of them asap. ♡

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#hp fandom #slytherin boys #slytherin boys react #hp fanfic #headcanons #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanons #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle husband #mattheo riddle honeymoon #mattheo riddle scenarios

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contentloadingandstuff · 1 month ago

Text

What is a Husband's Role? - Liyue Girls x Male!Reader

A/N: Exams might be over for me, but now, of course, I got a notice that I have to submit myself to a military assessment, compulsory for all men in their 19th year of life. Wonderful. Anyway, enjoy! CW: None.

Question: Who is a husband to you? What is his role?

Beidou: Well, it's quite simple. Y/N is a tough guy, one that's not afraid of taking the world on his shoulders if need be. He handles things in my absence, keeping the Crux’s land-based businesses afloat. While I don't take him out to sea that much, I'd rather have him well and good just in case, he's more than adequate at running the fleet. Me? Heh, he always has my back. Whenever I drink, he stays sober and makes sure I'm taken care of and back home safely and he keeps my bunk warm at night. He's one hell of a man in the sheets too- Why are you blushing, eh? Not the kind of answer you expected? A gal has her needs, I'll have you know.

Ganyu: My husband is the light of my life. Y/N treats me like a precious flower, tending to my needs and admiring me like the most beautiful thing in this world. When he holds me, he does so with utmost care and attention. His affection makes me feel safe and loved. Thanks to him, I learned to balance work and life again. But even when I'm on the clock, he visits me everyday for my midday nap. All of his support has been crucial for my self-esteem and my efficiency at work. Without him, I don't know where I would be today. Hm? T-too scientific…? I'm s-sorry, I've just been thinking about it a lot…

Hu Tao: Ah, yes! My partner in crime, my muse, and the man ensuring the continuation of the Hu bloodline! Aiya, whatever would my world be without him? It would be as bleak as the space between life and death, with me - a sad, wailing soul, eager to find the comforting warmth of another… I'm lucky enough to have it already. His role in this marriage is not just being my lover, but being my best friend too! He's always open to my shenanigans and eagerly listens to all of my poetic scribbles, praising me and giving constructive criticism in equal measure. Y/N is not deterred by my work, and never ever turns a cold shoulder towards me. He's there when I want to mess around, when I need help or when I just want to lay in his arms and twirl his hair. Mm, I can already picture our lovely heirs! I hope they'll have his eyes~.

Keqing: I would like to confess something, if that is alright with you. Before I became a wife and a mother, I didn't truly understand what I was fighting for. I have been taught to work towards the preservation of an abstract idea of Liyue, a homogeneous mass of people and the land along with it. I fought for it, yes, but now I know that I didn't truly comprehend what Liyue is. When I first woke up alongside my husband and when I first held my daughter in my arms, I finally understood. I understood that I'm fighting for the people, not as some vague collective, but as individuals. I'm working and fighting for husbands such as Y/N, wives such as myself, and children like my own. I would give my life for my loved ones a hundred times over, and I can work twice as hard, knowing that I do so for the future of my family and every other family in Liyue. My husband opened my eyes, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Lan Yan: Hey - that's no way to think about your beloved! Love is not inherently about being useful to each other, it's more about feelings and companionship. For example, I can't say that taking Y/N with me when picking rattan is making the process easier or faster; I could easily do it myself. But I invite him just to have him near. Hearing his voice comforts me, and to be honest, I've been by his side so long that I just feel… off without him. What if it stormed, or what if night caught me by surprise? He would be worried sick, I'm sure… Or what if I met a ghoul or a jiangshi while out? I m-mean, I have a Vision and everything, but is it wrong to feel safer around my big, strong husband?

Ningguang: I find it fairly obvious - he is to support me, to comfort me and to keep me company. If you would like a more personal take on the matter, I'd say that Y/N, for me, is a precious antique - surely the most valuable of all. His role is to be a feast for my eyes and my heart, nothing less, nothing more. I wouldn't want to drag him into my business, as that would be foolishly risking his life. His role is to satisfy my emotional and physical desires - after all, true fulfillment in these areas cannot be bought by Mora.

Shenhe: Well, I learned that a husband's role is… Hm? You want me to answer in my own words? Oh, I see. Then… I used to think that a husband is meant to give his wife children. It is what I thought for most of my life, until I met Y/N. Y/N’s presence, his words and touch, cause a comforting warmth to spread through my chest. I learned that this is what love truly means. It's a sense of safety, but it is exciting all the same. I want him closer, but my usual dark visions do not appear in my mind. I do not feel the pressure of my soul straining against the red ropes. He calms me, he makes me feel safe. Now I understand the importance of having a soul to share one's life with. I understand now what the word ‘husband’ means. And I am… happy with Y/N by my side.

Xinyan: I love Y/N because he honestly loves me for who I am. No matter if I rock and roll or feel in the mood for something softer, he'll jam out to it with me. And he's one hell of a guy, let me tell you! He's not afraid to go all in with me, no matter what. I thought about going on tour? He's there with me. I wanna save some Mora to upgrade my guitar? You guessed it, he pitches in as much as he can! I feel like stealing him and partying the night away? He never says no. That's the best man a gal can ask for!

Xianyun: Hmph. Are you implying One's choice of husband is poor? One will have you know that Y/N is of the finest sort - a body that would make the gods of old jealous and a mind that rivals One's own. It is the latter that’s of utmost importance - One doesn't see a husband as a mere nod-along, but as a man that is capable of challenging his wife's character and inciting her to grow. As such, don't be concerned by Y/N arguing my points at any point in time. It is what One desires, and loves about him the most.

Xiangling: Ooh, where do I start! My hubby is the best sous chef in the world - he makes sure that the kitchen is stocked up, clean and well organised, letting me focus on my favourite part - cooking! Whenever I need to get ingredients, he takes my place in the restaurant. Sometimes we go out together to get some new ingredients and experiment a little. He's good at cutting up meat, hunting down that meat and defending me if any of my ingredients decides it wants to snack on me. And, when we camp for the night, his cuddles are just the best! Both my dad and Guoba approve of Y/N, so I suppose my taste in boys isn't that bad after all.

Yelan: A woman my age, and in my line of work, can't be blamed for giving up and thinking she'll be alone until the end, right? That was the Yelan my husband met a few years back. And yet here I am today, a married woman. I knew I was missing out, but I just couldn't imagine how delightful it feels to have someone propping up my back - not for a mission, or a profession, but for life. My husband is my safety net. His arms are my hideout where I can rest from the stress of my daily work. I never want to lose him, which is why I have him stay low and always keep the eyes of my most trusted agent on him. Nobody is going to sneak up on my man - not while my heart still beats.

Yun Jin: His use? Ah, I think I can answer that with a single word - adventure. I always dreamt of journeying across the outside world, and love is such a journey. Y/N is my companion on it, holding my hand whenever I feel scared or unsure, standing steadfast by my side. He lets me experience so many feelings and emotions I could only imagine before he took my heart… Hehe, stories of love I sing in opera don’t come close to experiencing a husband’s warmth yourself.

Yanfei: Well, who else would listen to me ramble on about my passion other than my lovely Y/N? I swear, no matter how many versions or iterations of Liyue’s legal history I read out to him, he never gets sleepy! He even asks questions and actually remembers what each chapter was about, can you believe that?! Hehe, seriously now; he’s a great partner, both in life and in a discussion. Y/N makes some room in his schedule for visiting me at work every day of the week, and always brings some mean snacks with him. Oh - you have to try his crab cakes, they’ll blow your socks off! And who ever said that guys can’t cook, right?

Thanks for reading!

234 notes · View notes

neptuneiris · 1 year ago

Text

Wild Hearts | (One Shot)

'you, it's always been you'

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you and he can't be together, yet the two of you have fallen for each other. but the Gods are not merciful and you both have to let go. but by comparison, your charming prince doesn't think the same way you do.

word count: 8.6k

next part • main masterlist

this is the new idea that I was talking about hehe🤭

i hope you like it a lot and first of all, i want you to know that there will be part two and nothing else. so enjoy this, dig it and let me know your opinion that is the most excited i am to read❤

enjoy and thank you so much for your support beautiful people!

warnings: angst, sex content, arranged married, minor mentions of cuts and blood, smut but not so elaborate.

The Gods can be cruel.

And for some time they have been cruel, especially to you.

You are a lady, yes, but not of a great house enough to be worth anything really big and significant. All your father can offer the Realm is a few soldiers, horses and you.

You are the only daughter of an arranged marriage trying to find their place among the Court. And when you are born a woman, your duty is to marry a suitable man, please him and give birth to as many children as possible.

That was your purpose in coming to King's Landing after Queen Alicent approved your stay at the Red Keep and you became a lady-in-waiting to the highborn ladys who also remain at Court.

But no one, not even you, could have prevented that those plans would no longer be a priority for you the moment you met Prince Aemond Targaryen.

You knew of the one-eyed prince's reputation, as well as his brutality in combat, his cold behavior and also of his recognition as the rider of the largest dragon in the world. But most of all, you knew that his disinterested and sometimes mean personality... was due to how he lost his eye at such a young age.

But that was what he wanted to show all the people of the Court and its visitors.

After such humiliating years of trying to prove himself while at the same time listening to whispers and rumors about him and the pity he caused people for losing his eye, Aemond had no interest in pleasing the Court, so he was just mean, disinterested and cold.

But with you it was all different.

Perhaps it was being alone for so long that he finally got tired of himself and let you in and see his other side, his true side that very few were privileged to see. After all, you were just a lowborn lady who had lived her whole life with the same duty as him: to please the Realm and fill its needs.

But even he never imagined that you and he would understand each other so well.

The gleam of his violet eye, charged with an unusual intensity and determination, the effect he made you feel when you looked back at him and saw his patch covering his left socket and the way he spoke and behaved with you, triggered a wave of unknown emotions and expectations in you.

Your first casual encounter with the prince began in the library, where you exchanged literary tastes. You revealed your fascination for the history of the Andals, as well as shared with him how interesting you found the stories of his family, the Targaryens.

And he shared with you his admiration for history and philosophy as well.

Your casual encounters with him continued in the library and before long, those encounters extended to walks in the gardens. Those walks became a mostly secret habit, where you not only shared equal opinions about books and history, but where you both got to know each other a little more.

And despite the growing friendship and the bonds that intertwined with every conversation and interaction, the weight of undeniable reality persisted.

However, neither of you stopped.

On some trips he had to make, on every return he would always bring some gift for you, whether it was a piece of jewelry or a new book that you don't have access to, to leave secretly in you chamber. Or he would even surprise you with a rare flower that is not seen in the Crowlands, handing it to you so delicately while you tried to keep the blush on your cheeks from being so obvious.

You too tried to look casual when you went to the training yard just to watch him train discreetly, admiring his skills and in every fight smiling proudly every time he made his opponents surrender to him.

And in the midst of everything and everyone, his violet eye always met yours.

At banquets and celebrations it was also the same. The two of you couldn't engage in conversation as such, at least not alone, so all night long, you could only exchange glances and act like complete strangers.

But in the occasional places where the two of you meet and no one else is around, you can act completely free.

He shared with you the story of how he claimed Vhagar, told you more about the history of his ancestors, even taught you some High Valyrian words, while you, who in comparison to him do not possess anything as great and exciting as he does, share with him your thoughts, dreams and tastes.

You both became friends. You became the friend he didn't know he needed and you definitely didn't expect someone like him, especially him, to enjoy your company so much.

And during those years, you couldn't blame the Gods for falling completely in love with the prince.

That was your total freedom and decision, even though you knew how impossible the situation was and that the two of you could probably never be together.

Your house is not worth enough to allow a union between you and a prince of the Realm. It was also useless to suggest it, because the answer would be no, both from the Queen and from your parents, who would have been totally pleased.

But Aemond is destined for more, you know that. And that more is definitely not you and not even close.

And despite this, you couldn't help but imagine as a fleeting dream the moment when he and you unite and become one. A dream that will never happen in which you finally become his wife and you can call him yours, just as he can also call you his, in body and soul.

But that dream is finally shattered when they announce the official betrothal between him and Lady Floris Baratheon.

It was something that was eventually going to happen, you knew it was going to happen, but still, the news takes you by surprise and your heart breaks into pieces, while everyone around you rejoices at the news and approves.

The days following the betrothal announcement become dark and sad for you. You retreat most of your time in your chamber, not having the mood to go out and face the Court, much less him.

And when you had to face the daylight, your steps became stealthy and sparse, trying to keep your distance as much as possible and avoiding any possible encounter with him or anyone else from the royal family.

Aemond of course realized the distance you took and respected it. Not because he knew exactly what happened, but because he thought you had other important matters that did not allow you to share your time with him.

It wasn't until an audience at the Court where the Queen and the Hand of the King attend to the needs of the people, that Aemond finally caught a glimpse of you. But you didn't return his gaze even for a moment. And it is only then that he tries to understand the reason for your distancing, but your eyes avoid any eye contact with him.

You spend several days living in the same way, until one silent morning, Aemond finds you in the library all alone. He knows this is not your favorite time to read, nor is it his, so to say you are avoiding him is clear at that moment.

He opens one of the doors gently and closes it audibly enough to get your attention. He sees perfectly how your whole body tenses and nerves are reflected in your gaze, as well as discontent.

That especially catches his attention and with more purpose he wanders deeper into the library, watching you completely intently and in search of an explanation, wanting to know what he has done to make his presence before you now uncomfortable and annoying to you.

"My prince," you say politely enough, bowing your head to him, but already wanting to leave.

You certainly did not expect him to appear and now you only try to hide from him as much as you can so that he avoids looking at the disappointment on your face.

"My Lady," he says, still with bewilderment in his gaze, taking a couple of steps towards you, "It is good to finally see you after so many weeks without your presence."

You force a small smile, lowering your gaze.

"It's good to see you too, my prince."

His closeness begins to unsettle you, feeling each step he takes towards you as an echo of emotions you'd rather keep hidden. And this is exactly why you desperately seek a way out, a convincing excuse to get away from him.

"If you'll excuse me, my prince, I must retire," you decide to say without further ado, hoping that it will work, "I wish you a good day."

But you only manage to move two steps forward when he quickly blocks your path.

"Wait."

Instantly you watch him intently and in awe, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast, as he looks at you confused and hopeful.

"You've been... absent lately," he says, his words laden with a mixture of confusion and longing.

You swallow hard, averting your gaze from his for a moment. You don't even want to look him in the eye but that would be rude and not appropriate behavior in front of a prince. So you have no choice.

"Yes," you say in a mumble, trying to find an excuse quickly, "I-I've had to take care of some important matters with my family. Also, my responsibilities at Court have kept me occupied with the ladies and other engagements, which has left me less free time, my prince."

And despite your explanation, really not at all convincing, Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.

"And will you stop saying that?" he inquires in a low tone and you watch him in confusion.

"What do you mean, my prince?"

"Exactly that, my title," he points out deliberately, "There's no one else here, it's just you and me. I don't understand what all the formality is about."

You press your lips together, again averting your gaze from him, as you as well as he, feel that tension between the two of you, a tension completely unfamiliar and one you have never felt before in each other's presence.

You had never felt uncomfortable in his presence and you had never wanted to get away from him before.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to offend you," you observe him with a serious expression, "If you'll excuse me, I have to leave now to attend to an engagement."

Again you try to walk past him and head for the library doors, but Aemond prevents it once again, blocking your path and pushing you back with his determined and clearly annoyed gaze.

"You are avoiding me," he sentences, firm with his words, showing his inconformity, surprising you, "Nothing is the same between both of us anymore and your explanations don't justify it," he says, with annoyance in his voice and a determination, "Did something happen that I don't know about?"

He asks, watching you with a restrained fury, mostly to see how you try to escape from him, while you press your lips together, trying not to let your look show your pain, disappointment and resignation.

But his gaze clings to yours with an intensity charged with longing, wanting to know, while the silence is uncomfortable and you feel again that tension between the two of you. Until finally you decide to break the silence to not quite answer her question, still evading it.

"This is inappropriate. We shouldn't be alone."

You say without looking him in the eye and that only increases the anger inside him more, watching you without understanding.

"Why the shyness all of a sudden?"

You bite your lips, feeling the discontent all over your insides as you say your next words.

"You are betrothed. People might think badly of you and me if they see us here alone."

"Oh, please Y/N," he tells you incredulously, annoyed, "You're acting ridiculous."

"Aemond-

"Why this sudden concern for appearances?" he questions, his tone infused with irritation and annoyance, "Everyone knows we're close, we always have been, and now it's inappropriate?" he inquire, not understanding.

You let out a short breath, closing your eyes for a moment, really not wanting this to be any harder than it probably will be.

"You don't understand," you murmur sadly, biting your lips, "You are betrothed now," you observe him with the resistance to cry in your gaze, "Now there are limits we cannot cross. And it would be best if this were no longer to go on," you say with a lump in your throat, "Your gifts and our meetings must stop, for the good of your future marriage and out of respect for your f-future... wife."

The weight of your words are felt in your tone, with sadness invading you as you utter them, as well as the ending of this... friendship.

Again the heavy silence hangs between the two of you, laden with a sadness and helplessness that neither of you can control. And although Aemond doesn't fully understand your reasons for distancing yourself from him, he knows there is something else that he still can't quite figure it out.

"Y/N, if you're upset because I didn't tell you about the plans my mother and grandsire had for me-

"No, no, I assure you it's not that," you hasten to say, hiding your sadness and disappointment, "It would eventually happen, wouldn't it?" you shrug, trying to smile genuinely towards him, but you can't, "You must do your duty and I will too, sooner or later," you say, lowering your gaze.

Aemond is speechless for a moment, watching you and nothing else, still feeling the guilt inside, while you struggle to contain your true emotions and shout to him in that moment that you love him, let him know once and for all, though it won't change anything.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his barely audible voice full of bewilderment and a hint of pain, "Still I didn't want to-

"No, no... it's not your fault," you say again quickly, struggling to keep your composure, "Truly, it's all right. I should leave now."

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze for a second to look at you in concert with longing and concern.

"Can we please talk about this? I don't want things to end up like this between us."

"Don't worry," you try to smile genuinely at him, but rather a grimace appears on your lips, "I'm sure we can meet in the hallways and talk at the feast."

You tell him in a confident and assured tone, but even you know that won't be true.

"Oh and... hum... congratulations on your upcoming nuptials," you say with a lump in your throat and a forced smile on your lips.

To you, the falsity of your congratulations echoes in the air, a subtle echo of disappointment and resignation flooding your heart. Aemond tries to say something with the right words, but you don't give him the time as you finally move forward and no one stops you, each step echoing with the heaviness of what could have been and was not.

But just when you think you've managed to get far enough away, a hand gently lands on your arm, once again stopping you.

"Wait, please."

Aemond's voice sounds full of urgency and longing, making your breath catch for a second. And when you turn to look at him with the clear resignation and sadness in your gaze, his look reveals a mixture of torment and determination, frustration as well.

"I did not wish for this, Y/N," he confesses truthfully, his voice soft and emotionally charged. "It is not my desire to marry Lord Borros' daughter. That is not what I wish for myself."

Your eyes fill with tears as you hear his words, surprise in your gaze. And he stares directly into your eyes with despair, as if his thoughts are trying to be conveyed through his gaze.

And even though you have nothing to say regarding that, he continues with a confession that takes your breath away.

"Y/N..." he whispers, his expression heavy with longing. "If I had a choice, if the decision were mine, I would not hesitate in....

His words hang in the air, causing confusion in you for a moment, but as you watch him closely, his gaze speaks for him.

He watches you with attention, longing and hope, adoringly seeing the way your beautiful purple dress highlights your figure and beauty, with those precious and discreet jewels adorning your neck and fingers... his woman.

He shows you his affection and expresses it simply by observing you that he doesn't need to say anything else aloud. The meaning of her words is dispersed between the two of you, revealing a shared desire and a deep connection.

As you, upon understanding, surprise and hope collide within you, leaving you breathless at the implicit, yet clear revelation. Emotions intertwine in a whirlwind of feelings as the weight of his words sink deep within you. Your heart only beats faster, unable to believe what you are hearing, as time seems to have stopped, unable to speak.

And only then there, you can feel joy in knowing that your feelings are reciprocated, but the pain of knowing that it is now too late, simply ruins everything and fills you with pain.

"Why are you saying it until now?" you whisper with your voice broken and your gaze lowered.

"Y/N, please-

You don't let him say anything else, as with a lump in your throat and tears streaming down your cheeks, a sight Aemond doesn't like to see, you turn away from him more quickly and walk out of the library, leaving him alone with the weight of these confessions and unspoken words.

Also with a heart full of regret.

The news of your courtship came weeks after the last time you spoke to Aemond in the library.

You definitely did not expect to hear that at all, as you felt like you had been unexpectedly punched hard in your stomach and a sharp pain settled in your chest as your father spoke complacently about how he received two advantageous offers for the asking of your hand, Lord Ronan Redwyne and Lord Alan Beesbury.

Despite your father's efforts to express the importance and political benefits of such possible unions, to you it was as if the air itself had become heavier and stifling.

Only on this occasion the Gods had been good to you, as both men are the same age as you, so the fear of having to marry a man who multiplies your age and was surely going to be bad to you evaporates.

But still, you feel trapped and obligated.

Of course, your parents are quick to push you to start having conversations with both men to see which of the two is the most suitable for you.

Lord Alan, with his refined presence and gentle smile, known to be a skilled knight, is kind and very gentlemanly. You always see his attempt to make you feel comfortable with his presence, also in the topics of conversation that arise between the two, telling you about his home, his family, some stories and sharing some wishes with you.

You appreciate that, as you can tell he's doing his best, but even so, your mind reels at the thought of him being the possible candidate to take your hand, which adds another layer of complexity to your situation.

The same goes for Lord Ronan.

Despite his kindness, chivalry and the attractiveness of his face, you find no peace in the situation. You don't even care that they are both advantageous for a future marriage, all you want is freedom, to wait a little longer until you heal.

But at least you are being given the choice, a privilege not many women get from their parents when it comes time to marry and simply sell them as a trophy to the first advantageous man.

"It's a beautiful day, don't you think, my Lady?" says Ronan, breaking the silence between the two as you stroll through the Red Keep gardens.

"Yes, it is," you reply with a forced smile, lowering your gaze, keeping your pace slow.

He watches you intently.

"I just want you to know that I am eager to get to know you better, my Lady," he tells you gently and formally, "And any questions you have about me, you can tell me. Also any thoughts you have, I will be pleased to hear them."

You nod politely, feeling a little uncomfortable about the situation, unable to help yourself. And though you truly appreciate Ronan's kindness, your heart still yearns for something that now eludes you.

As you continue the walk, you strive to find something in Ronan, anything, just as you do whenever you are in Lord Alan's company, but you always fail. And even though neither of them is a bad man, you know that they too are caught up in choosing a future wife that is not entirely of their choosing.

"I thank you for your kindness, my Lord."

You say in a sincere voice, looking him in the eyes for the first time since you had started the walk,

"And also for your interest. Not many men are interested in the thoughts of women these days."

Ronan places a kind and understanding little smile on his lips, nodding in your direction.

"There is nothing to be thankful for, my Lady. And I know it's only a short time since we've begun to know each other, but I enjoy your company."

You nod again, keeping your gaze straight ahead, unable to help but feel how you still feel overwhelmed by the weight of courtship and the fact that you will soon marry him or Lord Alan.

And at the same time, reality dawns on you with undeniable clarity: Ronan and Alan are good men, but neither is him.

While both may be honorable companions, your heart still yearns for someone you can't have, feeling utterly sad and resigned, because it's not fair, not to the two of them either.

But how can you make those feelings go away fast?

And just when things couldn't be more unexpected for you, as you turn down one of the bush paths along with Ronan, you both find yourselves face to face with Aemond accompanied by Lady Floris at his side, who were walking in the opposite direction.

And the air is enveloped with immediate tension.

You knew that eventually the news of your courtship with two possible candidates to give your hand in marriage would reach Aemond's ears, but when your eyes involuntarily meet his, you see only dissatisfaction and restrained fury.

This triggers a whirlwind of emotions within you, trying to disguise your surprise and discomfort, also nerves, as well as you try to focus on your companion, trying to move on and appear unaffected by this.

"Lady Y/N," Lady Floris greets politely with a smile, breaking the silence, "Lord Ronan," she address him, "How lovely to see you both this morning."

"Lady Floris," you reply, trying to remain calm, then look almost fearfully at Aemond, "Prince Aemond," you tilt your head slightly, biting the inside of your cheek.

"My Lady," he answers you in a soft tone.

Ronan at your side also greets Lady Floris in a respectful manner, then turns to Aemond.

"My prince."

"Lord Ronan," says Aemond, in a dismissive tone, observing you attentively and at the same time in seriousness.

Aemond's tone does not go unnoticed by you, with an intensity on his face that does not go unnoticed either, as you struggle to remain calm in the face of the uncomfortable situation.

It is clear that Ronan's presence at your side does not please him at all.

As Lady Floris at his side, she attempts to carry on a polite conversation, oblivious to the tension that has taken over the moment.

"I would like to offer my best wishes to you both on your courtship," Lady Floris begins to say kindly, "Fortunately the prince and I are in the same place as you and understand what it can be to have expectations high in families if you decide to join your houses."

You feel more the knot in your stomach and the discomfort all over your body, not daring to say anything regarding that, while Aemond remains just as silent as you.

And fortunately Ronan is the one who appreciates Floris' gesture, while Aemond keeps his eye on you with an expressionless but penetrating gaze, also watching Ronan from time to time.

"Thank you, my Lady," Ronan replies courteously, "Your words are most kind and we wish you both well in your future marriage."

"Of course. We hope to see you both at our upcoming wedding," Floris adds with a kind and visibly excited smile, while you again feel your heart give a painful jump.

And since you say nothing, nor does Aemond, Ronan hastens to speak.

"Of course, my Lady. We will see you there."

With pain in your eyes, your gaze involuntarily drifts to Aemond for a brief moment, where he is already watching you. And in that fleeting moment, the looks in both of your eyes convey more than words can express.

With a polite bow, the four of you take your leave and each pair continues on their own way.

You try to focus on your steps along with Ronan's, but the echo of tension and unspoken feelings leave an unpleasant sensation throughout your body. And that's when you hope that soon, both you and he will find peace in your respective futures.

But it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon. Neither did acceptance.

Aemond continued the rest of his walk with Floris in the gardens with his mind still focused on the encounter with you and that boy clearly unworthy of you. He didn't even pay attention to what Floris was talking about, he had not the slightest interest and obliged, he had to complete his walk with her contributing very little to the conversation.

Even he himself could not avoid the feeling of suffocation and frustration that invaded him. Seeing Y/N, his Y/N, next to that poor boy, one of his possible candidates to take her hand in marriage, provoked a mixture of indescribable emotions inside him and he made a great effort to keep his composure.

He feels furious and emotionally on the verge of exploding, like a mad man, with impotence filling him with rage.

Why should she marry a man who was not him? Why should he be forced to witness her courtship with another man? Why couldn't he have realized that she also loves him the same way he loves her and reacted sooner?

He felt that he was really going to go crazy, so as soon as he bids farewell to Floris and leaves her in the company of the other ladies of the Court, he heads for the training yard.

Big mistake.

As soon as his presence arrives at this place of the Red Keep, the figure of Lord Ronan pulls him out of his thoughts and draws his full attention.

At least he has the decency to hold a sword.

He thinks to himself, watching as he finds himself engrossed in his own training, accompanied by other knights, practicing his sword moves. He also thinks about focusing on his own training, but finds it a better idea to meet the candidate of his dear friend Y/N, wanting to know what truly awaits her.

After all, Lord Ronan is not the only candidate, Lord Alan also frequents the training yard and will eventually see him as well. So with a determined step, he approaches him.

"Lord Ronan," he says in a cool but controlled tone as he approaches, heading towards the weapons table.

"Prince Aemond," Ronan replies, stopping his training and turning to him, "It is good to see you here as well, my prince."

His gaze assesses Ronan closely, noting his every gesture and movement. And despite the anger still flowing through his veins, he remains calm, not revealing too much of his thoughts.

"I guess you don't train enough at home. House Redwyne is best known for making sweet wine from the grapes that grow on your island," he comments neutrally, watching Ronan's position with meticulous attention.

"Ah... no, my prince," Ronan says politely, "I have had training lessons with the sword, among other weapons, since I was a young boy. So have other members of my family and I assure you we are well trained," he replies, adjusting the position of his sword, "After all, a knight must remain prepared at all times."

"Hm," he says seriously, "And that is what you have accomplished with so many years of training?"

Ronan remains calm in the face of the prince's critical gaze, though Aemond's insinuation resonates with a defiant tone.

"P-pardon me?"

"With those moves is that how you're going to ensure protection for your future wife?" he inquires with a dismissive tone, challenging Ronan with his words.

Tension begins to be felt in the air, the verbal confrontation slipping between the two men. And though Ronan maintains his composure, not wanting his words to affect him, the disdain in the prince's words does not go unnoticed.

"Appearances can be deceiving, my prince," Ronan said calmly, controlling each word to convey determination, "And my duty as protector of my future wife is not limited to combat alone. I suppose there are more important aspects."

Aemond tilts his head, watching him in confusion.

"And what aspects are those, my Lord?" he asks, clearly disinterested.

"Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice," he replied determinedly. "Protection goes beyond sword skills; it involves being willing to give your all for the person you are sworn to protect."

Ronan's words echoed in the air, filling the space between them with a seriousness that could not be ignored. And Aemond, his brow furrowed, lets out a sigh and watches him more seriously than before.

"Do you hear yourself, my lord? Speaking like the ladies of the Court who read and listen to love ballads," he snaps, watching him in disapproval, "Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice are not going to protect your future wife from a life-threatening attack," he says and then turns away, taking his sword and a shield from the table.

Ronan swallows hard.

"You need not worry, my prince. Still I assure you that I am well prepared for combat."

"Oh yeah?" he looks at him expectantly, turning to him with his weapons in hands, "Then prove it."

Ronan looks a little confused.

"My prince-

"Come on," he interrupts him, egging him on with defiance, discontent and agitation in his tone and look, "If you're as skillful as you proclaim, then prove it."

The atmosphere grows more tense, as Aemond waits for Ronan to accept his challenge and prove his worth beyond words. Both men hold each other's gazes firmly, with the tension increasing by the second, but neither takes a step back.

The confrontation becomes tangible. Glares charged with a subtle but unmistakable rivalry. And without further words, the air filled with the anticipation of the physical training ahead, as the two head to the center of the training yard, each preparing in their own way.

Aemond tightens his grip on his sword and without hesitation, lunges towards Ronan with fierce determination, causing the poor knight to have little anticipation to protect himself from his sword, but managing to dodge it and answer him in kind.

At first it appears to be casual training, yet Aemond wants to get a reaction out of him.

And between every clash of swords and every move full of speed and precision, at every failure of Ronan, Aemond taunts and shouts questions and insults at him in a defiant voice while demanding superior performance.

And at every failure and every taunt, Ronan's determination grows, also inevitably to the prince's provocations.

"Is that all you can do!?"

Aemond exclaims arrogantly to him, wiping the sweat from his brow, trying to unsettle him.

Ronan growls and focuses on his movements, responding with brutality and force, trying to answer every blow he threw at him, which to Aemond, couldn't be more pathetic and weak movements.

"This is what you plan to defend yourself with? This is what you have learned?" he inquires, mockingly, "What a shame."

Ronan lowers his sword a little, watching him in bewilderment and panting in exhaustion.

"My prince-

He tries to say but Aemond won't let him.

"No," he tells him seriously, "Be a fucking man and fight me back."

Aemond raises his sword again and slams it against his, causing him to lose his balance, while Ronan as best he can defends himself from their attacks, while the combat begins to attract the attention of the other knights and some people of the Court.

And only when Aemond sees that they have just started and he can no longer stand and does not even have more strength in his arms, the confrontation went from a simple duel to a battle without mercy.

And he in a fit of anger and frustration, leads to hit him with his foot in the chest with excessive force, making him gasp in pain and throwing him to the ground, and then walk quickly towards him, with purpose, raising his sword, so Ronan quickly tries to get up, raising his sword, blocking his attack.

Then Aemond's sword dangerously grazes Ronan's shoulder, knocking him back to the ground with a blow to his side.

"My prince-

"You yield!?" he exclaims to him in his madness, bringing the point of his sword to his throat.

"Yes! I yield!"

"Just like that!? So easy!?"

"Prince Aemond!"

He hears someone shout in the distance but he focuses entirely on Ronan below him.

"I yield!"

"He's bleeding!"

"My prince!" comes Criston Cole immediately.

And only at that moment does Aemond stop, breathing shakily, his gaze with barely contained fury. And only at that moment he also notices that Ronan has a wound on his shoulder with which he had brushed his sword earlier, not realizing at the time that he had wounded him.

Ronan presses his free hand to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, watching him in horror and clearly calling for help.

Aemond squeezes his sword again so hard that it marks his white knuckles, watching everyone around him for a moment, then with a hard stare, turning to him again, angling his body so that only he can hear him.

"You are not worthy of her," he whispers in a low voice, his words laden with disdain and resentment.

And without caring about the stares or even her opponent's injury, he leaves the shield on the ground and with his sword in hand heads towards the interior of the Red Keep's castle.

Aemond knew that eventually what happened at the training yard would reach your ears. He also expected a confrontation about it, but he didn't imagine he would face your fury late at night.

His guards are required to stand guard in different hallways, so taking advantage of the fact that there are none in the hallway by his doors, you quickly make your way there to enter his chamber as fast as your body will allow.

He looks up from his book in his lap, sitting near the fireplace, watching you attentively at once, but before he can say anything, you turn to him with your lips pressed together and annoyance in your eyes.

"Have you lost your mind?" you inquire in a serious and demanding tone, looking for explanations.

And just like you, Aemond isn't having your attitude either. He's annoyed to see how you haven't taken any time at all to come to the defense of that stupid, poor, defenseless boy.

Putting his book aside, he stands up, imposing his presence on you. Despite having to raise your face to face him directly, you don't let his posture intimidate you.

"I see that that... Ronan matters too much to you, my Lady," he says in a dismissive tone, "It took you no time at all to fall for his sure sweet words and promises of love. After all, you and he are very much alike."

You inhale deeply before responding, seeking calm despite his attitude and the tone of his words.

"Ronan and I are getting to know each other, nothing more. Just as you are getting to know Floris Baratheon. But I'm not doing anything against you, yours is for sure, she's going to be your wife. But you can't go hurting and almost killing the men who can be my future husband."

He looks away from yours for a moment, irritated.

"I don't know what you expected, honestly," he tells you seriously and indifferently, "That's what happens in combat when we fight with weapons, Y/N, men get hurt. And if Ronan is weak and wasn't taught well, that's not my problem."

You stand your ground, incredulous to hear his words.

"That doesn't justify what you did. Everyone witnessed how the combat began and it was you who unfairly exploded against him, hurting him," you reproach him with determination. "His wound was deep. He needed eight stitches!"

Aemond, sick of this, averts his gaze from yours and turns his back on you, heading towards his table to pour himself a glass of wine under your confused and incredulous gaze.

"I don't understand why you're so worried, he'll be fine. After all, you still have another possible candidate for your hand, I hear," he says in a tone devoid of emotion, laden with bitterness, "Though I doubt he's much stronger than Ronan."

His voice sounds harsh, his words laden with a bitter resentment that he can barely hide, jealous.

"So this is how things will be?"

You ask him earnestly and sadly, fighting back tears that threaten to escape at any moment.

"You'll go around hurting my suitors until there are none left and I have no chance of marrying anyone else but not you either?"

Tension hangs in the air as you wait for his response, feeling the weight of your words and the clash of emotions between the two of you.

And he remains silent, staring out the window with a hard stare, as if not looking for an answer through the glass, turning his back to you and not daring to look at you at that moment.

Finally the first tear rolls down your cheek and Aemond listens as you gently sniffle your nose, then turns to you, his face showing a mixture of emotions, from hardness to the flash of regret and longing.

And he lets out a defeated sigh.

"That's not what this is about, Y/N," he murmurs in a softer tone, his expression revealing his inner struggle, "They're not worthy of you. Your father is choosing wrong."

And that's when you explode with anger and frustration, unable to contain yourself any longer.

"I just don't understand why you care so much, Aemond!" you exclaim without understanding, "You shouldn't see them as a threat because they are not. You have nothing to do here!"

You face him, as your tears fall silently, with a defiant look and your posture firm, though full of sadness, anguish and confusion, inside and outside. And he too responds to you in kind.

"Of course I do!" he turns to you angrily, exclaiming in his fury, "This does concern me because those fucking men and your father are going to take you away from me! And they have no right!"

And again your emotions boil over, fury and pain getting the best of you.

"Do you even listen to yourself? How irrational you are being?" you inquire, not understanding, "You didn't even do anything in the beginning, you are the prince, the one who had the power to do something about it and you never even once asked for my hand!" you shout at him, your voice full of reproach, sadness and disappointment.

Furious, Aemond turns around and in a burst of anger, throws his hand towards the table, causing the wine jar and the cups to fall to the floor with a deafening clatter. The sudden sound makes you jump and recoil, startled by the noise and force of the act.

He turns his back and heads for the back of his chair, leaning hard against it as he tries to contain his fury. With her breathing rapid and agitated he struggles to regain his composure, his body tensing and closing his eye tightly.

The air becomes tense and the silence uncomfortable, as Aemond fights against himself and you just allow yourself to cry silently.

When he speaks again, with a tinge of bitterness in his gaze, still not turning to look at you and his voice soft but laden with resignation, still holding back his fury.

"I wanted to," he confesses to you, his vulnerability visible, "But my mother and grandsire would never have approved, you know that."

His statement leaves you speechless, with a mixture of sadness and disappointment that he didn't even try, not once and yet...he has the nerve to do this to you.

You remain silent and the disappointment and bitterness reflect even more on your face as the tears run their course, to finally gather your courage and speak.

"Then... let me go," you whisper, it being more of a painful plea than a command.

Silence expands in the room, marking every second with the heaviness of unresolved emotions. And you, overwhelmed with disappointment and pain, understand that you have nothing more to do here and turn to leave.

You don't even care if one of the guards sees you coming out of his chamber, you don't even care if rumors arise seeing you here late at night and everything gets too complicated, you just need to get out of here soon.

And with tears still running down your cheeks and being completely heartbroken, you grab the doorknob. But just as you are about to turn it, his firm and determined hand lands on your waist and turns you towards him, stopping you.

The action takes you by surprise and you look at him without understanding, he doesn't give you time to say anything either as he places one hand on your cheek and the other keeps it firmly on your waist, bringing his body close to yours.

And still without reacting, he moves closer, his warm breath brushing against your face.

"I can't," he murmurs, his voice cracking with anguish, laden with longing and regret, "I can't," he repeats in a whisper, gently caressing your cheek, "I'm sorry."

And just then, without a thought for anyone else and without a care in the world, his lips trap yours in a passionate, desperate kiss.

Paralyzed, surprise takes you completely and you can only feel how every movement of his lips is a mixture of apology and desire, asking you to kiss him back.

His arms wrap firmly around you, clinging to you as if he's going to lose you at any moment. And unable to resist a second longer, with his soft lips and warm mouth on top of yours, he makes the world fade away around you in that instant and you kiss him back.

You place your arms around his neck and cling to him completely, moving your lips in sync with his, as he presses your body against his and lets out a gasp at the wonderful feeling of having you this way with him.

And you feel as if you are floating, this being exactly what you had dreamed and prayed for so much, wishing and praying to the Gods that this is not also one of your cruel dreams.

But this is real. It is finally happening.

So you allow yourself to lose yourself completely in it, not thinking about the consequences and not caring about anything else, as Aemond walks you around without stopping kissing you for a single moment, until his feet touch the edge of his bed.

"I love you. I love you so much, my sweet girl."

He whispers into your lips, watching you with all that love and desire in his gaze, noticing your swollen and parted lips, watching him back with the same intensity and completely surprised to hear his words.

And without saying anything back, with the actions speaking for themselves, you kiss him again, feeling that urge to cry, but of happiness.

Aemond falls down sitting on the edge of his bed and you take a seat on his lap, placing your knees on either side of his hips, clinging to his neck and kissing him slow, deep, making you feel everything.

"I love you too," you murmur against his lips, watching him with nothing but affection and desire.

He kisses you again desperately, feeling something warm in his chest at your words, holding your waist with one of his hands and the other beginning to lift the edges of your skirt, making his way to touch your bare thigh.

You gasp into his lips, feeling his warm hand and the cool metal of his rings, only to tilt your head as he begins to leave soft, wet kisses down your neck, trying to find your sensitive spot to make you shiver.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, lifting his gaze to you.

"A-aemond," you gasp, feeling the hardness beneath you.

You reach up with one of your hands and remove his eye patch, wanting to see everything about him, instantly reflecting the faint light of his blue sapphire, looking so beautiful and dazzling.

You smile softly at the sight of him, then leave a soft kiss on his cheek, beginning to leave a small trail down his face to kiss him on the lips, as his hand on your thigh makes gentle, firm strokes on your skin.

Slowly, he lifts his hand from your waist to the laces of your dress, watching you attentively afterwards and needing first of all your permission. And you help him untie the knots yourself.

Your front of the dress loosens and revealing your white gown underneath, Aemond lifts one of his hands and gently traces your skin between the valley of your breasts, making you shudder and shiver, then stops at the straps, watching you again.

"May I?"

With the blush on your cheeks and the nerves in your lower abdomen, really wanting to do this, you nod.

"Yes."

His hand slowly slides the strap down your shoulder and arm, then exposes your breasts to him, making you feel more nervous, but you feel completely safe to be doing this with him.

Truly everything that happens next, giving him your mainhead and letting his calloused hands explore all over your naked body, is by choice and you think to yourself that if there is one man you would willingly trust with this, it's him.

And just as the tip of his hot, hard, heavy cock makes its way between your walls, he knows exactly how to comfort you and make you feel comfortable. Instantly blood stains his sheets, but he doesn't care at all.

And when he begins to move inside you, slowly and very carefully, waiting for you to get used to it, he wipes away every tear that escapes your eyes and comforts you with his hands and kisses, making sure that at all times you are well.

"You feel so fucking good, so warm and tight, my love."

And despite his obscene words, his actions are anything but, his movements careful and careful not to hurt you, asking you how you feel.

He kisses you sweetly and caresses your breasts, he makes sure to pleasure you too, as he understands that this is not just about him and the act is not just about fucking, but him making love to you.

He growls into your lips and you gasp as he begins to move with more purpose inside you, feeling the sweat all over your body and forehead, clinging to his shoulders and gently digging your nails into his skin also lightly illuminated by sweat.

"Do you have any idea how long I imagine this?" he whispers against your lips, moving his hips and pounding that sweet spot inside you, making you moan beneath him.

But he quiets your moans with his lips, not wanting anyone out there to hear you, it would be too risky.

"Aemond," you say his name in a moan, biting your lips.

"What's wrong, my sweet girl? Does it hurt?" he says to start moving more gently.

"N-no. It just... feels so good," you manage to say over the sensual movement of his hips that make you see stars behind your eyes.

The act doesn't last long and very soon Aemond makes you reach your highest point, making you experience a sensation you had no idea about all over your body and he also spills all his seed inside you, grunting and moaning from the pleasure as he feels your walls squeezing him deliciously.

And then, both of you sweaty and trying to catch your breath, you embrace and take a moment in his bed.

You feel a tingle between your legs that is more than gratifying and Aemond, for the first time in a long time, feels at peace and completely at ease, especially having you in his arms at this moment.

There was no time for regrets and worries, it was all done. So the two of you dive into that little world where only the two of you exist.

But even though you didn't want to think about it, you think about the future, with uncertainty beginning to invade you, as you inhale Aemond's scent, hiding your face between his neck and chest, embracing him as he encloses you in his arms and gently caresses your bare shoulder with his thumb, listening to his soft breathing above you.

You let out a sigh, close your eyes and wish you could stay like this forever, starting to feel your eyes water and that huge worry in your chest for what you just did.

When Aemond speaks.

"In the morrow I will talk to your father and ask for your hand."

He says in a soft voice and everything in you comes to a complete standstill, listening to him attentively.

"I'm sure he won't be able to resist my proposal. No one will be able to stop us when they know I have claimed your mainhead, not even my mother and grandsire. And then... we will have our Valyrian wedding and there will be no turning back," he murmurs and then places a soft smile on his lips, "You will be mine, as much as you already are now."

You feel him leave a soft kiss in your hair and you smile softly, moving closer towards him, if possible.

"Sounds like an excellent plan, my love," you whisper, grateful.

And finally you can be at peace now.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond one shot #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen angst

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tlbodine · 4 months ago

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So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

#uspol #politics #direct action #grassroots activism #get involved #election 2024 #us politics #us elections

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totothewolff · 9 months ago

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The Big Slip

+18 | one shot | Toto x reader | romance, smut, drama, pinning.

Summary: Your life as a struggling arts graduate in Monaco, coming from a working-class family who lives on the outskirts, is about to change. Toto Wolff enters your life not only by giving you the best sex ever but also by making you love somebody for the first time. Arranged marriages, a horrible breakup, and an induced coma, plus his terrible parents, were a complete surprise. Author's note: Get ready for a ride!

More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist - Toto hasn't been to his parents for a couple of years.

His relationship with them has gotten, how do you say it politely? Problematic?

The older and more independent he gets, the more he notices the enormous pressure they have inflicted on him from a young age.

Being the firstborn in a blue-blooded, deep-pocketed family, carrying the Wolff last name around places an immense weight on his shoulders.

He is required to be the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect gentleman, the perfect businessman, the perfect big brother, and the perfect heir.

"There's a lot on stake, Torger, not only millions," his father tells him at his massive and fancy in-home office. "You can't lose focus, this," he gestures with his finger around in a circular movement. "It will be all yours one day, and that," he points to a big and beautiful architectural model designed by Foster + Partners of their new offices and latest and giant factory based in Austria laying on the large meeting table made of expensive agarwood. "Will be yours to lead".

His dad isn't a normal one. Every time Toto gets called into his office, he feels nervous and timid, something that has never changed over the years.

His dad is a businessman first and a father second.

"Every choice you make matters, son. One day, you will become head of this family, an ambassador for our last name. Make us proud," he says, pouring himself and Toto a drink into a beautiful set of glasses. "Let's toast to that, to your future legacy."

He clinks his glass with Toto's.

Being an heir of the owners of the "Silver Wolff Mercedes F1 Racing Team" and "Wolff & Co." is supposed to be fun.

Being a part of that accelerated, fast-paced world full of excess, wealth, luxury, and stunning seductive women, a land with no limits.

Yet it isn't. It's a golden cage that people would give everything to get locked into, but it's still a cage.

"I'm moving to Monaco after graduation," Toto informs his father, again in his office, but years later, with all the courage he gained over the years, he feels ready to break those bars in his cage.

His parents sent him to study university at the LSE (London School of Economics), giving him a spoonful taste of freedom.

But he barely partied and slept around. He was required to be the perfect student, the top of the class, and the ideal college kid his parents could show off in social gatherings.

"Monaco?" the expression on his father's face is priceless.

"Yes. Water motorsports are on the rise. You know how much I love water! I could develop a racing team there, create a new branch for Silver Wolff, and enter the yacht market for Wolff & Co., handling it by myself."

"Before you return to your duty, the real one, this company, to Silver Wolff Mercedes. It will serve you as a pilot. Think of it as a five-year project."

"Yes, sir."

"Good," his father hugs him and kisses him on the cheek.

Toto feels proud of himself as he heads out of that office.

"Torger?" he turns around at his father, calling his name. "Don't lose focus."

What can you expect when you give total freedom to someone who hasn't tasted it before?

Parties, excess, women, all kinds and types of sex, alcohol, weed, everything, what he wanted, he had, he satiated all his appetites.

But at the end of the day, of the rush, he is alone.

Completely alone, with no real or deep relationship with anyone.

Toto built his life based on a "this is just a one-time thing only, a just-for-the-moment" philosophy, knowing that everything in his current life was temporary and that he isn't the actual owner of his life choices.

That's why he is not interested in building new friendships or having a girlfriend.

His real friends are his childhood friends, the kids of wealthy, upper-social-rank families his parents approved of and hung out with.

They are the ones who get him, who know what he is going through. And Obasi, his only real friend from college, Toto loves Obi.

Being the heir of a build-from-scratch empire of a Nigerian-rooted family that escaped the dictatorship, made it to England, and became incredibly successful is a burden more challenging than his.

Obi's parents expected him to make no mistakes, a margin of zero, and they had for him higher than the sky expectations.

The night is fully set in Monaco, and your boss gallery's lights illuminate the sidewalk as the prestigious Galerie d'Art 3816 is holding an exhibition.

Located on the famous Boulevard de la Croisette, it's buzzing as art lovers and collectors gather for the exclusive opening of "Lumière," a small but exquisite collection featuring an array of stunning paintings.

You worked your ass off to earn a spot and get featured, showcasing tonight two pieces as part of that exhibition, earning a well-deserved place.

With luck, a sponsor may see your work or art buyers will acquire them.

As guests enter the gallery, your boss greets them warmly and offers glasses of champagne.

The large room has white walls and a luxurious, polished grey marble floor. It's well-lit, and soft music plays in the background, creating an intimate atmosphere perfect for appreciating the displayed pieces.

As the evening goes on, champagne and canapés travel around while conversations flow freely.

At the same time, you attend the people interested in your paintings while some of your work colleagues sell and promote their own in their places.

Then your world spins around as you notice the tall guy, at least 6'2", whose presence seems to fill the room.

He is looking over the artworks on display one by one, his eyes lingering on each piece with an air of discernment.

His dark hair is styled perfectly, with a hint of messy charm, and the lighting in the gallery accentuates his sharp features.

The Greeks seemed to have carved his chiseled features, perfectly sharp jawline, and strong facial structure.

His suit, tailored to perfection, fit his broad shoulders and athletic build like a glove.

You can't help but feel a flutter in your chest as he moves towards you, his long strides eating up the distance between you.

"Oh! Mr. Wo-" Your boss tries to greet him. She approaches him in a rush, distracted by the other guests, without noticing when Toto enters.

"Mr. Bednarczyk, I'm Christian. It's nice to meet you," Toto lies to you, introducing himself, much to your boss's surprise, and cutting her off.

She plays along while he offers you a handshake and adds as you two lock eyes with each other, "Mr. Bednarczyk, we are glad you joined us." she says.

"That's unique," he points out, looking at the art in your painting, admiring every detail. Your boss takes this as a signal for her to leave you discuss.

Not before whispering to Toto's ear discreetly, "Christian Bednarczyk? Toto, what!?"

"My middle name and mom's maiden name. I don't want all the attention the Torger Wolff name drags around here."

He is right.

People in Monaco may not know what the Wolffs look like, but they have heard their last name and know what type of family they are.

What should have been a five-minute conversation between Toto and you lasted almost an hour.

You told him all about the meaning behind the painting, the techniques you used, your creative process, and more, feeling an instant connection with him.

A couple of other guests gather around to listen. In the end, a French businesswoman buys it.

"Happy for how it went?" Toto asks you.

"Yes! I sold the two paintings I got allowed to exhibit!" you answer as you do a little dance for him.

He looks only a few years older than you but seems full of youth and energy.

"So, now, can I buy you a drink?" he flirts with you.

"Yes, please." you feel your knees shaking.

Accepting his invitation to get some drinks results in a night of passion.

Toto's lips and teeth clash against yours, his tongue demanding entry. You part them, letting his tongue swirl around yours.

His hands roam your body, feeling your curves, then he squeezes your ass, pulling you closer to him.

You can feel his hardness pressed against you, and you reach for it; he groans, deep and guttural, his breath hot on your neck as he picks you up and carries you to the bed in a hotel room.

He lays you down gently, his hands cupping your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples through the light fabric of your dress.

"Fuck, so sexy," he mutters, his voice full of desire. You arch your back, pressing yourself into his touch.

You are desperate for more, desperate for him. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body responding to his touches.

Toto's fingers work fast, pulling out your dress and exposing your undies before getting them out of the way. He groans as he takes in the sight of you fully naked, his eyes dark with lust.

"Beautiful," he whispers.

He leans down, taking your nipple into his mouth. You gasp as he teases it with his tongue, the sensation shooting straight to your core.

"You're fucking wet," he says, his hands now exploring your slick folds. You whimper as he circles your clit with his fingers, "I want to taste you," he states, his voice low.

You nod eagerly, unable to speak. Toto wastes no time.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and dives between your thighs. His tongue is warm and wet, tracing a path up and down your slit.

You moan as he explors with his mouth, parting your folds, his breath warm against your clit.

You bite your lip as he flicks his tongue against it. The sensation is intense and immediate. Your hips buck as Toto sucks it.

"Oh my god," you moan, digging your nails in the sheets beneath you. You are so close already, your body coiling with need.

Toto's fingers slide inside you, and you moan even louder. He presses against your G-spot, and you feel an orgasm rising inside of you.

And then, just as you are about to explode, Toto pulls away. You let out a whimper of protest as you feel your orgasm fade away into nothingness.

But Toto isn't done with you yet. Not by a long shot.

"You taste so good," he moans as he crawls up your body, pressing his hard cock against you. "Do you want me inside of you?"

"Yes!" you answer while moaning as you feel his tip brush against your entrance. He is teasing you, and you love it.

You want him inside of you so badly it hurts. He pushes against you, inch by inch, until you are stretched around him, finally joined.

The feeling of his hard length filling you is indescribable, and you let out a gasp of pure ecstasy.

Toto thrust into you, his hips moving in rhythm. Each stroke brings a new burst of pleasure that almost brings you to your knees.

You grab onto his biceps to stay grounded.

Your moans become louder, more primal as he pounds you, sensing the pulse of his cock deep within you.

"Goddammit, Chris. Yes... yes..." you let out, your breaths becoming shallow gasps. Your muscles tremble with exertion, and sweat drips down your forehead.

You close your eyes, lost in the sensory overload, as he continues to thrust deep into you.

Your breasts are bouncing with each impact, and your heart is on the verge of exploding.

You are nearing the end but want to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Savor every moment of this encounter.

"Tell me how it feels," Toto demands. "Good god, you're so tight, so fucking perfect." Toto murmurs, continuing to pump hard into you.

You let out tiny cries, knowing that you are close to cumming. "Goddamn, you feel so good inside me. Your body is pure perfection," you moan.

He shifts positions, his body dominating yours again, and you wrap your legs around his waist. His hands hold your hips, pulling you closer. He kisses you passionately as his pace quickens, bodies moving faster.

You can hear the wet sound of skin slapping together with each hard thrust. Your body quivers in delight, feeling his strong hands grip your hips tight.

The way Toto moves inside you is delicious. He moves deep, giving you long, slow strokes as he continues to kiss you passionately.

"I want to hear it all, every dirty little thought that goes through your mind. I want to feel you clench around my cock when you get what you want."

His words send a thrill down your spine, igniting a fire. You rock your hips harder against him as he continues to thrust, his movements becoming more urgent, more frantic.

"Oh, fuck yes. Yes, Chris. I want you to claim me, to make me yours. I want to feel every inch of your thick cock stretching me open."

"Fuck, Y/N. That's what I like to hear."

"God, yes!" you cry as he hits the right spot.

"Tell me you want it," his voice raw. "Tell me you want me to make you cum."

You look into his eyes, seeing the desire and urgency reflected there, his fingers digging into your flesh.

"Make me cum, baby," you stammer; you are so close.

Toto's expression changes at your words, and he looks more determined than ever to make you finish.

With a low growl, he increases his pace, his hips snapping against yours with animal urgency, taking your breath away.

Your hands go to Toto's ripped abs; you can feel his muscles flexing as he drives into you with fierce movements.

"God, yes," you pant, trying to hold on as best you can.

Toto's hips are a blur, his body moving with intensity you have never experienced before. Your hands tighten on his shoulders, your sweat-slick bodies slamming together.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum," you cry, your voice hoarse with pleasure. The orgasm is building.

Your whole body is trembling, and you can feel every inch of you tingling with anticipation. You sink your teeth into Toto's shoulder as he continues to pound hard into you.

"Yes, yes, YES!" you cry out, surrendering to the pleasure, giving yourself completely to him. The orgasm hits you suddenly, and you feel your body convulse, releasing.

You hear yourself yelling out his name as Toto keeps thrusting, mercifully prolonging your orgasm. His hips continue to snap into you as a guttural moan tears from deep from his throat as he comes too.

He moans so deliciously as he finishes, firm chest going up and down, you running your nails on it, as he recovers his breath.

"It was spectacular," you say the following day while sharing breakfast, looking at him with adoring eyes. Oh, the things he did to you were just wow.

"I totally agree." he gives you a cheeky smile.

"You seeing someone? Maybe we could..."

"Sorry, I can't. This was a one-time thing, sadly. I'm not looking for that, but I can give you my number if you want to be friends." Toto explains, looking at the dismay on your face.

"Sounds good, better than wiping you off from existence!" you chuckle.

And you two become "friends"!

"Friends" that text each other daily and hang out at any minute possible.

Who were you kidding?! FRIENDS?!

You are utterly into that man. And he seems also into you.

"Well, that was a complete failure." You sigh as you close the gallery.

Only eight people attended your personal art exhibition, and you did not sell a single piece.

Toto is carrying your stuff around in a box. You two cross the street to grab a seat on the pier, which overlooks the harbor and the sea, and hang out a bit more.

"You okay?" He bumps your arm with his, looking at your sad eyes.

"I want to make my parents feel proud of me. I know they haven't asked me for that. They only want me to be happy! But I know the effort they made to put me through college, and you know, I want to be successful so I can help them out so they don't have to work that hard anymore. They aren't that young," you answer.

Toto looks fondly at you and catches the single tear sliding down your cheek with his thumb finger before caressing your face tenderly.

"You are a good daughter. Even if your parents haven't asked you for anything, you feel a need to deliver. It will come! Don't get impatient! No one starts with instant success. Usually, there are a couple of years of struggle before it. Focus on what lies ahead."

"Why are you so smart?!" he smiles shyly at your question, his cheeks blushing. "Can I kiss you?" you come closer to his lips. "I know you told me we'd be friends only, but can we be of those friends who kiss each other?"

He laughs softly before claiming your lips in a passionate kiss. "I don't think those friends exist. I don't think those are called friends." Toto replies.

You laugh. "Damn, you got me!" and after a couple of minutes, you dare to ask. "What is it about me that doesn't convince you?"

"It's not, listen, ahem..."

"I'm single and have a boyfriend job opening right now. There is no need for an interview for you, in case you are interested," you invite him shyly, asking him to please date you.

To which Toto blushes and looks down at the floor.

There's a silence break in which you slowly take distance from him, returning to where you were sitting before kissing him.

"Can I change your mind?" you ask softly at his lack of reply, which sounds more like a plea.

He turns to look at you but doesn't say yes, which hurts you. He can see it in your watery eyes.

"It's getting late. So I bett-"

"Don't leave, please." He sounds earnest.

"Chris, I'm not sure I can only be your friend with these dumb feelings I have for you. I don't know how to be around you without wanting to be with you. I'm sorry."

"This amazing idea you made of me may be wrong. I'm not that ..."

"You are kind and fun. I love those dumb reaction faces you do," a small smile forms on your lips. "You are very gentlemanly, holding the doors open for me and standing up when I arrive. I have never seen that one before! Also, holding my hand on stairs and carrying my stuff around, you make me feel so special."

"Every time we talk, it feels meaningful. Gosh, I love sharing life with you. You are so full of great advice, you know?" you continue.

No one had shown Toto such earnest affection before, not so openly.

"I can be your life coach if you have that job offer available," Toto says. You can feel his eyes piercing your skin. He is looking at you with such intensity.

"I don't know. You, you feel too meaningful, this," you gesture with your finger between you, "Feels special. And let's not talk about all of this going on here," you move your hand around, gesturing to Toto's face and body. "All this tallness hotness stuff you got going and under gets even better," you quickly add, every word speaking faster. "Those things you did to me the other night, Jesus! We could, you know, repeat it sometime or many."

A huge smile forms on his lips before he relaxes again, watching you joke around.

"I really gotta leave, tho," you say.

"Can I at least drive you home?" his voice sounds slightly sad.

"Oh, hey, no worries, it's far. That's some gas you are going to spend. I can grab the transp-"

"Please"

"I live on the outskirts projects. Do you know where those are?"

His father's best friend's real estate company developed the units in those buildings. Of course, he knows where those are! "Yes, I have an idea, but you can guide us there."

"You sure?"

"Hundred percent"

It's a quiet ride at first.

"Gaga, really?"

"What?" he looks at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road as "Shallow" plays in the back.

"Are you a pop girlie?! That's... you know."

He starts laughing at your reaction, judging his music taste. "Unexpected?"

"Give me." You grab his phone from the car's cup holder on the central console.

"Password?" you ask.

"941123"

"Does it have a meaning?"

"It's a birthday."

"From who?"

"A girl"

"Oh," your mild jealousy showing.

"My sister's, not... there's no one else, so you know."

There's silence for a bit. So, you keep searching on Spotify for a song you like.

"Then, why not me? If there's no one else in your life," you ask before thinking, shit! It would be best to stop pushing him, but you can't.

He gives you no answer again, and things start to feel awkward for a few streets while Arctic Monkeys play in the back.

The streets of Monaco never look more attractive as you observe them through the car's window, not being able to look at Toto and feeling embarrassed. Rejections are uncomfortable.

"Do you have or had someone?" he asks, trying to regain your attention, feeling awful too.

"I had a boyfriend for years. He was my neighbor, and he still is, sort of, he moved a couple of buildings away. Let's say he forgot he was my boyfriend before having a new girlfriend. That's a cool photo on your locked screen! I have never skied, and those snow outfits always look so cool. So handsome, gorgeous smile. Turn left here and go all the way there. Oh, you went the other way, ahem."

"You said left; this is left," Toto informs you, side-eying you.

"Oh!" you smile at him. "It was to the right, then." You make a funny oopsie face.

You open the Apple Maps app and pin your address before passing him the phone at a red light.

"Okay, got it now." Toto gives you his phone back.

"Have I told you when I got "lost" downtown? My parents went crazy! It turns out I never left the street; I just went right thinking it was left."

"WHAT?!"

"Oh yeah, get comfy on your seat, Chris. The wackiest shit always happens to me," you tell Toto before sharing that memory with him.

When you finally arrive in your neighborhood, it takes you forever to get to your home because you keep telling him anecdotes and memories of things that happened to you in various spots.

Toto slows down the car, amused and more than engaged in the conversation.

"And on that sloping street we used to bike down! Oh, and on Charlotte's birthday - a girl that used to live in that house in that street - we went to slide down during her party held in their front garden, and I hit the sidewalk there and flew to the grass next to it. My dress got all green in the belly and chest, and I flashed the entire party with my Hello Kitty panties before my mom rushed to see if I was okay and pulled down my dress; well, at least the guests got to know me!" you two laugh heartfully. "And that's me." You point to a building.

Suddenly, your eyebrows frown, and a concerned look fills your face.

"You good?!" Toto asks you, worried.

"Why is my dad in PJs out in the street?!"

A big guy wearing no shirt, belly on full display, not a fit body at all, and pajama pants bottoms wearing sandals was in a rush walking around the street, looking for something.

Toto parks the car, and you get out of it quickly. He follows you.

On your way to your dad, you find your mom, also wearing pajamas, hair a mess, crying in your building's entry hallway.

You instantly hug her.

"I left the door open a second!, just to get the Amazon package inside! And "Chico" went off, he ran so fast down the stairs, we can't find him anywhere! It's my fault!"

You comfort her before getting all emotional, too, and scared for Chico's well-being. Your dog flew the house; he is tiny, old, and almost blind, which is not good.

After one hour of searching, your family, Toto, and some neighbors still haven't found Chico.

You turn around, all desperate, and bury yourself in Toto's chest, weeping, where he wraps you in his arms and comforts you, rubbing you.

"Let's keep looking. Chico must be near."

"What if he got run over?"

"Shh, don't think of that." Toto kisses your head and soothes you. "We will find him, okay?" He bends a bit to rub his nose against yours softly and gives you a couple of brief kisses.

Your parents witness it all.

Around two hours later, Toto goes exploring further away from the park again.

This time, he hears muffled dog cries in the distance, so he follows the sound to find Chico under some tall bushes in a neighbor's open yard.

His little leg got stuck between the big branches, so Toto rushes to get him out and leave before he gets in trouble.

He returns to your building with Chico in his arms, who looks even smaller in those muscular arms and is all dirty.

Your mom and you run to Toto and pat Chico before hugging the Austrian from both sides.

"Our girls' hero!" your dad approaches you all and tells the dog. Chico, don't scare us like that!" before addressing Toto. "Okay, let's go. I buy the beers. We still can catch some of the game." He pats Toto's arm, assuming he is your boyfriend.

"Let me see what I can make for dinner." your mom tells you.

"Go ahead," you ask them two, wanting to have a time alone with Toto.

"Please, give me a chance. I promise you won't regret me," you beg him.

He nods.

Toto can't keep ignoring his feelings for you, which is reckless, before you two kiss while leaning on Toto's black Mercedes car - the one he told you he got lucky to inherit from his late godfather - and while holding hands.

"Honey?!" your mom calls you from the window on the second floor. Your apartment faces the street and a small grass patch. "Can you go get some cheese?"

"And more beers!" you hear your parent scream from inside. You have that bad habit of doing that.

Your relationship feels like a dream. It's healthy, romantic, supporting, and spicy.

There are weeks you can't keep your hands off each other or your clothes on.

Everything is soft and tender between you, helping and supporting each other throughout the day's challenges.

You talk a lot, but he is pretty reserved. You respect that and hope that time and love will change it. You want him to feel secure and loved enough to open up.

Toto extends his visit, staying longer after his sister's baby's christening mass and gathering in Austria at their parent's state.

He loves his young sister more than anything in life.

He wanted to spend some time with her and her kids, who were also staying there, but as soon as they left their childhood home, he remembered why he had stayed away.

The following day, at the garden breakfast table, his parents bring up the always-expected topic: "Torger, my dear, your father and I are worried. It's been almost seven years since you left for Monaco, two more years that agreed."

"We need you around, son. I'm afraid you are falling behind on how to handle the business only with your brief appearances with the team and at the factory," his father adds.

"I have known how the business works perfectly since I was a child; that is all you taught me. Haven't I succeeded with the new assets I created?"

"Yes. Monaco has been a total success. But you made a promise, and a Wolff keeps them. Your duty is with Silver Wolff Mercedes and this family. Man up to it." his dad gives him the ultimatum.

"I know it, believe me. But fine, I will prepare everything for my return."

"When will this be?" his father asks, growing impatient at his current lack of control over his son.

"By the end of this year. It's time enough to handle our aquatic racing team to another team principal."

"Perfect," his dad looks pleased.

"There's also another subject we would like to discuss," his mom has the word again.

Okay, this one is unexpected.

"We can't keep avoiding the fact that you have reached an age to settle down with no proper prospects. We think we could help you with that departm-"

"Hold your horses there." Toto steps in.

"Did you interrupt your mother? Your manners also stayed in Monaco?" his father looks at him sternly.

His dad has this really angry-looking resting face, but he is actually quite easygoing and even goofy sometimes.

"Sorry, continue"

"Most of your friends got married the past few years, your cousins are all fathers now, and even your baby sister has welcomed her second child. It's time for you, too. The daughter of my friend Anya is a perfect and stunning fit. She has always liked you."

"I can get girls on my own, mom, thank you."

"Yes, of course you can! You are smart, successful, handsome, fit, and wealthy. What's not to like?!" His mom gives him a look.

"Then, the problem is?"

"That finding the fit for you is not that easy. You need a girl that matches everything listed before to be even."

God! Toto had forgotten how old school his parents are.

"We are arranging this for you," his dad informs him.

"Are you like for real?! Arranging for me a marriage? Oh! Man," Toto's expression is priceless.

"Why are you articulating like that?" his dad looks at him, not in a good mood anymore.

"Like a commoner!" his mom adds. "Didn't we give you higher education? What's on the water in Monaco? It's not doing you well."

Toto chuckles but does not answer. Spending time with you and your is showing.

"Well, it's not like your father and I precisely met on a cruise, didn't we? Our parents arranged it, yet we formed a successful marriage with wonderful children."

"Understood." Toto plays along with it, not feeling like fighting it. They were sort of right.

You go to a fancy restaurant for your one-year anniversary. Toto never lets you pay for anything, and you tell him several times it isn't necessary.

Monaco is expensive for the working class, and you know the struggle. You don't want him to feel that type of pressure on him.

You know he works as a coach on an aquatic racing team in town, which is not a high-salary job precisely.

But he insists, and any hint of you putting a fight tonight goes away the moment he picks you up wearing that fancy suit, looking unbelievably handsome.

You are left speechless, and he closes your mouth with a finger on your chin before kissing your lips and hand.

"Wow," he whispers to you while he looks you up. You are wearing a fancy, tight blue dress, all glam up. "I'm so lucky." Toto lets out.

During dinner, an "I love you" scapes your lips.

Toto gets saved by the bell in the form of a marriage proposal happening in the following table.

You two clap for the couple like the rest of the people at the tables surrounding them when she says yes.

When Toto turns around, he sees you looking at him in a way he wants to shoot himself.

What had he done!?

How could he have been so irresponsible?

He hates himself for being unable to say no to you from the beginning.

While you two make love passionately, you ask him while riding him, his dick filling you completely as you rock your hips eagerly, bouncing on him while holding hands and between moans that he stays forever.

Toto has a full-on panic attack in the bathroom of the hotel suite you went to spend your anniversary night while you peacefully sleep after fucking your brains off, not knowing what to do now.

You shouldn't be part of his life. This wasn't supposed to happen!

But the fear of losing you is equal to his fear of hurting you.

To confess is not an option. God! You will hate him when you discover the truth and that he lied to you about his life since the day you met him.

This Christian Bednarczyk is a facade that hides something worse, Toto Wolff.

"A what?!" Your parents and you all turn to look at him with a funny face, all situated at the outdoor table.

You went camping on a family trip for the weekend.

"What's with all those fancy words you say here and there?" your mom asks.

"Yeah, right? I also noticed!" you add, pointing.

"You went to one of those "big farts" schools?" your dad questions him while biting his steak.

"Baby, do you want something else?" you ask Toto as you continue placing food on the big plate in the middle of the table and still taking ribs from the grill.

"No, love, I'm so full!" Toto rubs his belly.

"We ate half a cow already." your dad colorfully adds, as usual, still a bit of food in his mouth.

Toto and your dad nod, recognizing themselves as guilty.

"I used to read a lot," Toto answers his question.

"That's from where your posh English comes from. Makes sense! Honey, pass Mr. Thesaurus here another beer?" your dad messes around and requests you.

Their relationship is as great as yours is.

Toto loves to hang out with your family. Sometimes, he is even at your parents' tiny apartment, where you still live, not yet able to afford a place of your own, when you are not.

Where they constantly and unintentionally embarrass you in front of him, creating lots of funny moments on both sides.

Your parents knew no shame, and Toto's out-of-touch secret silver spoon upbringing sometimes made him say and do things that made him look like he was from Mars. Not teasing him was impossible.

But all in good spirits!

It's Sunday morning.

Toto and your dad watch the race in the living room while you are in the kitchen sink, blending acrylic paints and listening to their funny, excited little screams.

They are both fans of the F1. As the race is in the final laps with a clear winner and they go to commercial break, Toto goes to the fridge for a can of Coca-Cola.

"Pss, pss," you grab his attention.

He turns to you to see you approaching him and softly pushing him to the broom closet; he puts no resistance.

"Yes?" he asks you suspiciously, standing beside a mop.

You steal a passionate kiss from him first, and as you pull away to catch your breaths, you explain.

"Mom and I are saving to get tickets to the race here in Monaco for dad as a birthday gift. Do you want to come? We plan to have breakfast at that seafood place he took us once."

"The one with the delicious baked coconut shrimp?"

"Yes, the one with the cook owner with a lazy eye."

"Captain Evil Eye"

You two invented a whole backstory in which that dude used to be a pirate in his prime.

"And then, off to the race! We plan on going all dress the same, you know, dad's team."

The idea of Toto showing up in Ferrari gear was hilarious. That man had poor taste in all senses, but especially in teams.

Actually, it was a great and iconic team, but their fierce rival was so it was an instant and natural despise.

"I would love to, but I'll be in Austria, remember? I plan on giving your dad his birthday gift before leaving."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot! Son of a Biscuit!"

"Yup!" Toto says it like you do.

"What are you two doing hiding there in the broom closet?!" Your dad says as he gives you THE LOOK, now standing before you, opening the door. "I would like to remind you, Chris, I'm a police officer and have my gun in that drawer," your dad messes around.

Toto raises both hands and gets out of there and away from you. "I didn't even touch her," he says while collecting his stuff and heading to the door. "Oh, but she did!" he jokes, quickly closing the door after him as your mom and you die of laughter.

"You better run!" your dad says aloud.

"See you at night! It's sushi night!" Toto screams from the street as you and Chico appear on the window.

"Have a great day, sweety!" your mom warmly screams Toto goodbye.

He was coaching today.

Toto hates to lie to you.

He did not travel to Austria. He is there at the race, but at the pitlane in his team's garage, away from the cameras, next to his dad running this thing.

The live coverage crew knows they can't shoot any of the Wolff family members, and they don't dare disobey, so there is no risk since you and your family are in a sector far far away.

By this point, Toto's family has been trying to arrange a marriage for him with his father's goddaughter for months. Her name is Emma. She is a lovely girl, but she is not you.

Toto's parents think they successfully brainwashed him into thinking he is old enough now to settle down and form a family.

Not only to keep the family's social rank and prestige but also to bear beautiful children with a gorgeous rich wife and grow the fortune of his future heirs.

Toto plays along with it, but he is no longer interested in anyone after being with you.

Be dating you is the best well-kept secret that he has held from his parents throughout his life.

Only Obi knows about you. He won't risk his other friends opening their mouths, spreading the rumor among the elites, and reaching his family.

There is no part of you Toto didn't explore, a corner of your body he didn't touch, or part of you he doesn't own.

On a Thursday after work, you meet Obi, Toto's roommate. Since they both share a tiny apartment without privacy, Toto never takes you there.

Obi is so handsome and tall, with a gorgeous smile and a sexy British accent; he looks like an African prince. He is super fun, light-spirited, and a clear best friend of your boyfriend.

Thanks to him, you get to know a bit more about Toto's life, well, about Chris's life.

They met in college.

"Two broke kids with crazy parents," Obi says among laughs.

Then you find out that Toto is not close with his parents, that's why he never mentions them.

You want to know why Toto's relationship with his parents got strangled. Maybe you can help to fix it.

When you ask the real questions, he dodges them, along with your requests to meet his family, even though he has met everyone relatively important in your life, even your dog!

A month passes, and Toto picks you up to go on a date, but you forget your paintbrush roll-up bag upstairs in the workshop, where you work above the gallery.

He offers to get it, and while you wait for him, you grab his phone to put your shared couple's playlist with songs both of you like.

Whenever you unlock his phone, it warms your heart. Toto changed his password to your birth date.

Amidst choosing a song, a text arrives from some "Emma,"

You aren't toxic, not one of those people who routinely nose in their partner's phones, but this one makes your jealousy monster come out.

Why is this girl calling him "my love"?

God, you wish you hadn't opened that conversation.

As Toto opens the door to get back inside the car, he gets welcomed by you, holding his phone and looking mad before asking him:

"Whose Emma?"

FUCK!

TORGER YOU FUCKING IDIOT!

FUCK!

"Let me explain to you, please."

Tears are filling your eyes.

"Wait, not, please don't do that, don't cry," he looks desperate.

Then, you finally discover he has been seeing another woman for potential nuptials due to his parent's idea of arranging his marriage. You are a secret he has kept from them.

"So all this time, I was the "meanwhile," an entertainment for when the real one arrived." you sound so hurt and bitter.

"Don't say that." Toto looks anguished.

"That's why you didn't say it back."

"What?" he asks.

"When I told you I love you,"

"I hate myself more than you can imagine for hurting you like this. I didn't plan for any of this! It happened, and I couldn't be more grateful to have you in my life. You have no idea how much you have healed me. I was completely lost before you, and I don't want to break your heart..."

"Too late for that! Thank you, asshole, for exploding it into pieces." you interrupt him. "I will help you and your parents with that; I'm going to stay the fuck away of your life. I'm a fucking idiot!"

"I'm the fucking idiot here, for not being honest with you, for the lies, for everything. Please forgive! Don't leave me," Toto is begging for his life.

"Does the sorry for everything part also involve me?!" tears are everywhere on your face, but rage is starting to show, too.

"For hurting you! Do you think I regret any of this?! That I regret us!?! You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me!" Toto confesses now in a loud voice, too heated.

"Yet not great enough apparently to put an end to that shit circus going on with your family. If you truly loved me, you would fight for me, for us."

"Y/N, you don't know them..." Toto barely murmurs.

"Wrong answer," you say, lips trembling, before exiting the car and slamming the door.

Every step you take away from him kills you. You are so disheveled that you can't even show up to your parents.

As the weeks go by, you still look like a depressed mess, a shell of a person living life.

Not wanting to leave the bed, shower, eat, or go out.

Your mom and dad are distraught. Your dad even suggests you go to "the looney."

God, he tries! But that is how concerned he is.

It is clear to them that Toto and you broke up, and they are sad about it, too. They considered him part of the family, but there isn't a clear explanation yet.

To touch the subject with you is impossible, so they cease.

Time plus painting helps you heal, and your art becomes more edgy and moody, which sells well. At least a positive outcome of this!

You blocked Toto out of your life. And you are still trying to erase him from your mind, heart, and body.

Five months have passed since you two broke up when a call comes from an unlisted number.

You answer your phone a bit dubious.

"Miss Y/N Y/LN?" the voice of a professional-sounding woman answers.

"Yes, who's speaking?"

"I am contacting you from the front desk of the ER at Princess Grace Hospital here in Monaco" Fuck! Something happened to your parents! You start to panic. "On behalf of Dr. Gastaud, you appear listed as Mr. Torger Wolff's emergency contact. He is curre-"

"Oh, wrong number, then. I don't know that person." You feel a brief sense of relief.

"Oh? But all your information is on our system. Are you sure you don't know patient Torger Christian Wolff Bednarczyk?"

"Christian! Yes, of course, is he okay!?" you feel your heart in your throat.

"We just moved him to intensive care. We need you here as soon as possible." She sounds so calm in comparison to you.

"I'm on my way!"

As the male nurse rushes Toto's IC bed across the doors, the doctor explains to you as you two walk alongside it at the same pace.

"Apparently, he was on the deck of his yacht where he slipped and hit his head. His staff brought him here."

His yacht? His staff?! What?!

"The blood tests showed a high ingest of alcohol in his system." The doctor continues.

But Chris doesn't drink like that! He barely likes beers. Why?!

"He hit his head against the yacht's railing and has lost a lot of blood; according to the x-rays and the MRI, his brain is a bit swollen, and his arm got broken. I need your approval, miss."

The doctor stops for a second, grabbing the clipboard at the end of Toto's bed, next to his feet.

"What for?!"

"To induce him into a coma," the doctor answers.

You feel like fainting.

"I, I, I..." you are entering a state of shock that the doctor immediately recognizes as being used to dealing with those.

"Miss Y/LN," he snaps his fingers, getting you back. "We are losing time. It's the best option to stabilize and prevent him from leaving us. Do you approve of it?" The doctor shoves the clipboard to you.

"Yes," you feel your soul leaving your body.

"Sign here and wait there. It's going to take time," the doctor informs you.

You notify your parents about the situation. They immediately come to the hospital to join you while you wait for Toto's procedure to finish.

"We brought you dinner," your mom sweetly mentions.

"Thank you, mom, but I'm not hungry. Actually, I threw up a bit ago," you confess.

"Let's pray, then." your mom grabs your shaky hands.

After it gets done, they move Toto to an intensive care room; tons of tubes, cables, and saline and meds bags get plugged into him.

This is and looks like a nightmare.

It feels so wrong for you two to reunite like this since you called it quits.

Then, as the hurtful memory of that day hits you back, an even worse crosses your mind.

His parents. They need to know! Do they know already? Did they get notified, too?

Around 3 a.m., you gather the energy to go to the front desk. Your mom stayed with you at the hospital to spend the night. She will look over Toto as you investigate.

This room and the whole private area look expensive. It would be best to ask about Toto's insurance and the bills here. You are already worrying about how he is going to pay for it. You have some savings he could use if needed.

"Hi, miss. Did Mr. Wolff's parents get notified, too?" you ask the lady who called you.

"We only notify the people on his emergency contact list; you were the only one registered there," she explains.

"Oh..."

"But you can contact his insurance agent. They usually notify the patient's family. Personally, I never rely on the insurance people; sometimes they are the worst," she whispers to you, hiding behind her palm.

You look at her with a blank expression.

"Would you like the phone number to call?" she looks at you, a bit confused.

Why would you ask her for all this essential information about your husband? He registered you as his wife on the list.

Only if she knew.

She prints a sheet of paper and underlines some numbers with her blue pen.

"Thank you so much."

After a lengthy exchange with the insurance people and many revelations you didn't see coming, you obtain the number of Toto's father's office.

They indeed live in Austria. Toto's insurance covers him up to millions, a shocking amount, and the "Wolffs" are an important family you should know about.

You check on Google if it's a suitable hour to call Austria before remembering this is an emergency.

Toto appears stable, but he is not progressing as the doctor hoped. There is still not much brain activity on the damaged part.

You gain the courage to hit the call button after going over and over about how to introduce yourself and explain what is happening.

"Miss Y/N, hold in the line for a second. Thank you," Toto's father's beautiful assistant, sitting at her desk, tells you as she pushes a button on the intercom while holding the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Mr. Wolff! I have a girl on the line who says she is your son's girlfriend. She needs to inform you something about Toto. It sounds important."

Emma?! Did Torger propose to her? His dad thinks. "Yes, communicate her."

His dad picks up the phone.

"Emma? Good afternoon, dear. How can I help you?"

So Toto is still with her?

"Good night, Mr. Wolff," your voice takes him by surprise. "I'm Y/N Y/LN. Your son is in intensive care at Princess Grace Hospital here in Monaco. We don't know how, but he slipped on a yacht deck, hitting his head with the railing. The hospital notified me, so I came as quickly as possible."

"How is my son doing? Please send all the information to my assistant's number. We will arrive there soon." He sounds genuinely concerned.

"He is stable, sir," you feel your voice cracking. "But he is not progressing as the doctors expected."

"What doctors? I need the names and the medical records sent to me. We would go through them on the jet on our way there. We have many top-tier medical professionals on call."

"Ahem, give me a second. I'm searching for the full names," you say as you ask your mom to pass you some papers. Mr. Wolff hears other voices around you.

"Is this a scam?!" he sounds mad now.

"Sorry?"

"Whose there?"

"My mom"

"I have no idea who any of you are or why my son is in there with you. Hold," he pushes a button and asks his assistant to contact Torger.

No answer, she tries again.

"Could you tell Mr. Wolff to keep the conversation on the other line?" you answer from Toto's phone.

The nurse just handed you a bag with the belongings Toto was admitted with at the hospital just a second ago. His bloodstained clothes disturbed you deeply.

This would have been very helpful hours before.

It turns out his phone is still on, and Toto hasn't changed his password.

"Mr. Wolff, why would I be joking with something as serious as this?"

"It's unexpected news."

"For all of us, I asked the nurse for the medical records. I already sent the doctor's names to your assistant."

"Is my son heavily medicated, resting, or is he able to talk to us?" Toto's mom is also present and listening through the speaker.

"He is in a coma."

"WHO PERMITTED YOU TO INDUCE MY SON INTO A COMA! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? ARE YOU AWARE HOW DANGEROUS IT IS? THE MINIMAL MISTAKE COULD DAMAGE HIM FOR LIFE IF NOT KILL HIM."

You can hear the screams coming from inside as Mr. Wolff is at a reunion with the doctors.

Your parents and you are sitting on one side of the narrow hallway, and Toto's mom is on the other, right in front of you, without talking to you.

Toto is getting "showered" by the nurse, and you all leave the room to give him privacy.

His mom is so beautiful and well-dressed that you feel almost ashamed of how you look at the moment, but those were the clothes you were wearing when they gave you the news. You haven't left the hospital for a second.

"Mom, could you please bring me some fresh clothes and my things."

"But honey, we don't want to leave you alone."

"No worries, Mr. and Mrs. Wolff are here, too."

"Are you sure?" she asks, concerned because they don't appear particularly friendly toward any of you.

You nod.

"We'll return faster than a kid getting chased by a dog," your dad says, waving and loudly addressing Mrs. Wolff. She scrutinizes him and slightly nods.

After some minutes alone, she asks you.

"Why brought him to this cheap hospital?" she looks around, not pleased with what she sees.

"It's near the harbor where his yacht apparently is."

"Young lady, if you had any involvement in his accident, you should speak right now; our detectives will conduct an investigation."

"Detectives?"

"Well, our son is worth millions, and our family billions, and you, out of nowhere, appeared as his emergency contact, also as his caretaker and the primary beneficiary in case something happens to him." she says, her eyes piercing brown eyes looking into your soul. Toto added you some months ago without telling you anything. "And suddenly, this happens."

"WHAT?!" Okay, this is just not real. "I wasn't even there when it happened, and I had no idea about everything you mentioned."

Toto's parents want you out of the picture as soon as possible. Now it's clear to them you are the reason why Toto keeps pushing away his engagement with Emma.

They act cold to you and yours. However, the hospital and doctors allow you to stay and partake in life decision-making regarding him and the procedures he needs since you are also Toto's legal caretaker, much to their dislike.

"How much?" his father catches you off guard one afternoon.

"Pardon?"

"How much money do you want to stay away?"

"I'm not here for any of that. Please don't ask me that again; it's insulting," you warn Toto's dad, not letting you be intimidated by him and holding his stare.

This surprises them and earns you some of their respect.

Your life becomes being by Toto's side at the hospital, swallowing your social life, job, and income.

Toto's parents listen to the call in which your boss, against all her will, has no other remedy to fire you. You take it easy before returning to shaving Toto's beard tenderly and fixing his hair with a comb.

A brief, empathetic look crosses Toto's mom's eyes.

Still, your parents support you, knowing how much this and he means to you, yet unsure why you two ended things up since you both seemed so in love.

You remain silent under Toto's parents' continuous demands to know all about your relationship, current status, and details.

"Did you were sleeping around with our son?" his mom asks.

"We were in love and were in a relationship."

You refuse to speak more than that about it because it is personal, it's none of their business, and it also still hurts, and you don't want to give them the pleasure.

One day, they arrive with Emma; that girl is stunning and as classy and elegant as them.

She rushes in and places herself on the side of Toto's IC bed before tenderly caressing his cheeks and kissing his lips.

All in front of you, inside, you want to smack her away from him, but you know she is in no way responsible for this situation; she was dragged into this mess, too.

You remain quiet, watching it unfold before you. To Toto's parents' surprise, they expected a big drama.

After she leaves, they talk to you, explaining why they believe Emma is a better fit for Toto than you in all aspects and that if you love their son, you should step aside since you and your family don't belong with their kind.

A couple of days later, Toto undergoes another surgery but fails to stabilize.

Doctors are unable to make more progress with him, so his father ponders moving Toto to a better hospital in Austria or Switzerland after finding a legal grey area in the caretaker clause, which sends you into a frenzy and full panic that they take Toto away.

"Moving him is a risk, a gamble," you warn them.

"We don't see enough progress here."

"And over there would be any different? They can assure you that?" you ask.

"No, they can't."

That idea doesn't materialize anyway because, throughout that night, Toto's condition gets worse, and you all learn he could die.

That causes you to enter into the worst depressive mood you have ever had and look significantly affected in the eyes of Toto's parents.

This raises questions in their mind that you might be more than a side chick and your connection more profound than just sex and financial interest, as you claimed several times, to their disbelief.

Toto needs to undergo a risky procedure. There's a tiny chance of survival, but a speedy and total recovery awaits him if he does.

Your family and his gather to say goodbye as Toto gets moved at the doors leading to the operation room.

You don't know what to say. You're full of fear, so your dad goes first.

"Hey, big guy, once you told us you were strong enough, with those big arms of yours, to take down John Cena, I'm sure you will be strong enough to tackle this down," you and your parents chuckle at the inner joke.

The three of you remember that day you all got in the new furniture up the stairs.

You laugh until your laughter quickly turns to tears, and you break down for the first time. Your dad hugs you tightly.

"He loves you so much, enough to not run away from you and us after that day!" your mom adds, looking at you with a tiny smile. "You can do this, sweetie." she grabs Toto's hand and addresses him.

You are a total mess when you get close to him. You rest your temple in his. "Please don't leave me, please; I love you, Torger," you beg him, using this name for the first time.

Toto's family observes you say goodbye, giving you the space to it.

Before they come closer to kissing his son's forehead, "We love you, and we'll see you soon."

He survives, Toto is out of risk, and he is in excellent condition for a transfer to another hospital.

So you make a deal with his parents to not take him away from you.

They will allow Toto to remain at this hospital and you to be by his side till he finishes recovering fully.

But after that, you will be out of his life for good.

Two weeks later, Toto's health improves, bringing him out of the coma.

Toto's vision is blurry. His eyes cannot focus well, and the light hurts him a lot. He also hears a loud whistle in his ears.

He thinks he hears people say, "He's baiting his eyes." "Yes, he is opening them."

He rubs the palm of his right hand against his face, closing his eyes again before being able to focus more. Shapes become more precise as he turns his head to the side and sees you.

"Y/N?" his voice sounds so rough and crackly.

"Hi," you let out in a cry.

He reaches your face with his hand, touching around, not seeing you well.

Toto feels dizzy and confused. "I wanted to make sure you were real this time," he closes his eyes for a second and exhales. "I v o," he murmurs.

"Sorry?" you ask.

"I love you," says louder. Toto thinks he sees your big smile. "Love of my life," he adds, staring at you.

"Hi, son," he hears his father's voice on the other side of his face.

"Dad?"

He feels his hand on his.

"Welcome back," his mom squeezes his arm and holds it tight.

"What?" he is so confused.

Before the accident starts coming back to him, he tries to pull himself up, but his head hurts a lot, no strength at all.

"Easy, easy," you rush to aid him when the nurses and doctor enter.

"How are those Bambi legs doing?" you ask in a brief imitation movement as you greet Toto, to his amusement.

"Look at these tighs, stronger than ever," he jokes back.

"Strong enough to choke out John Cena?" your dad asks him, joining the fun and giving him a friendly shake.

"How are you, sweetie pie?" your mom greets him.

"Feeling better, the headaches are getting less intense."

His parents watch you interact, still not mingling, but not as judgy as once they were.

His recovery therapy has been a long journey. Most of his damage showed up in his physical motor skills, so there were lots of sessions on walking, coordination, and more.

You have been by his side every second of it.

During his remaining and final weeks at the hospital, his parents see Toto behave as they had never seen him before. He looks so happy, full of life, and in love.

They also notice how well you take care of him and his recovery.

The soft touches you two share and the looks you exchange show undeniable affection and love.

When he finally leaves the hospital, he holds a small dinner to celebrate and thank you for all your support.

It's your first time visiting his apartment. He never lived with Obi, and it turns out that guy is even richer than him.

It's a penthouse luxurious as fuck.

There is a lot of food and drinks, and everyone looks so happy, everyone but you.

You know that tonight is the night you say goodbye to him. His parents give you a hint that this is the moment for you to stay true to your word.

So, after everyone leaves, Toto approaches you on the balcony.

"It's a sick view!" you softly say, feeling the sea's breeze on your face as you admire the panorama.

"I kind of miss Ms. Telbot's awful curtains," he says, referring to the neighbor across the street from your parent's place.

"Oh! She got new ones! They are even worse!"

You two share a laugh.

"Could you give me a second chance? I promise you I won't disappoint you." Toto asks you. He looks at you in a way that makes you want to throw yourself into his arms and for him to take you straight to his bed, but you can't.

"I'm sorry. It's best this way," you barely whisper.

"I know I hurt you a lot, and I screwed things up, but please, allow me to fix it." he looks hopeless.

"It's not that. I now get the full picture and understand why you made those choices. You belong with someone who suits you and your life better. It's going to make everything easier for you. I respected your choice, and I hope you respect mine," you say with conviction while trying to hold back your tears and eat your feelings.

"Why this feels like a goodbye?" he asks, choking up.

"Because it is. You are the best thing that ever happened in my life, too, and I'm so happy we made it through that and that you are still here. You deserve an amazing life; we both do, but we are not made for each other."

As the Wolff family jet leaves Monaco the following day, Toto looks out the window while crying in silence, tears flowing down his face.

His parents exchange looks, feeling the guilt.

A week later, as Toto finishes the recovery exercises he still needs to do, his dad checks on him; Toto has looked like a complete mess since they arrived.

"Emma wants to see you. She is being insistent. It could also be good for you, some company and warmth."

"Who?" he looks confused for a second. "Oh, yeah, the Rothschilds girl, yeah, dad, I'm, my head is hurting a lot today, maybe tomorrow."

His dad nods before leaving, knowing it wasn't a time to push him.

A month passes, and Toto hears a couple of knocks on his childhood room's enormous, regal wood door, where he is staying for the moment, as he finishes fixing his tie.

They were expecting the Rothschilds over for a "special dinner."

"This ring belonged to your grandma, then to my mother, then to me, and now it belongs to you," his mom says, giving him the vintage red velvet box.

Toto looks at it, leaving a big sigh to escape his lips, and unenthusiasticly nods. He seems beyond resigned.

As they wait for their guests to arrive at the Wolff state, sitting on the elegantly set garden table, Toto looks miserable. He is there, but he indeed isn't.

"You are feeling this way because of Y/N?" his mom asks him, not being able to see his son suffering a minute more.

Toto's eyes go up at the mention of your name. "It doesn't matter anymore anyway."

"Why?" his father asks.

"She didn't have me back. She wants me out of her life."

"That's not true," his mom adds.

"Excuse me, but how could you know that?"

"We may have made a mistake," she confesses, looking sad and guilty.

"What do you mean?"

"We judge her poorly. Her family is something peculiar, the father..." she puts a face. "But the love she feels for you is undeniable. You know she never left your side at the hospital? Not even a second."

"She lived in there. She even lost her job," Toto's dad explains.

"WHAT?!" Toto looks now concerned. That was your only source of income! "Wait, what did you do?!" now he looks mad.

"We did what we thought was best for our son, but it wasn't."

"What did you do?!" he sounds so severe right now.

"We... found a grey area... in the caretaker clause, so we thought it was best for us to transfer you to a hospital here in Austria, where we could look after you."

"Away from her." Toto sounds judgy, eyes piercing them.

"Yes, so, she, we, made a deal," his mom continues explaining. "She would stay out of your life after it if we let you stay there until she saw you leave the hospital fully recovered."

"That's why those words didn't sound like hers that night. How could you do that to me, to us?!" he sounds resentful.

"Because we didn't know Y/N and had no idea how strong that bond between you truly was. Her love for you is indisputable." His dad tells him.

"She never cracked under our pressure; she fought hard and fair and did an amazing job caring for you." He continues. "It's our fault, and we are deeply sorry."

For Toto's dad to apologize and for his mom to look this ashamed it was something so significant and never seen.

"So now what?! Emma and her parents will be here any minute." Toto says.

"Only if you had a jet waiting for you to leave for Monaco," his dad expresses, winking an eye.

"Only if you had a ring to offer to Y/N," his mom tells Toto, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head.

You arrive at the gallery, finally back at your job, and glad your boss hired you again! You are so excited to paint in the workshop.

You finish pushing the door, which is already slightly open. Someone must have arrived early, too, but the place is empty, to your surprise.

You don't think much of it. You go straight to the easel with your name on it, pull out all your brushes and materials from your bag, and remove the dust white sheet on top of the empty canvas.

You look perplexed as you read the freshly brush-painted letters on it: "Will you marry me?"

"I found the truth," Toto's voice makes you jump slightly.

You turn around to watch him smile big at you with adoring sparkling eyes before you answer his question.

"Yes"

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