its always “you murdered your husband for his fortune and his land” and “you’re a monster” and never “your black silk mourning gown looks nice” or “was the poisoning fun it looked like fun”
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TW: nsfw, noncon, poverty & debt, gun violence, organized crime, death threats, arranged marriage
fem reader
Thinking about owing the mob…
Not you specifically, but your family – debt you weren’t aware of before you’re being cashed in to settle it.
You imagined several terrible things before the arrangement was explained to you.
One of the sons needs a wife with a clean reputation.
It’s a simple equation. You’re eligible, and he isn’t picky.
And though it leaves you in mourning for a life yet lived, it still comes with a sense of relief. It’s one of the better deals you could’ve gotten. At least you wouldn’t need to witness or partake in any crimes, nor act as a scapegoat for the likes either.
Besides… though you’ve yet to meet your fiancé, you’ve been explained that he only plans on treating you like a wife on and for the camera – that his tastes otherwise lie in the gentlemen’s lounge.
All you ever have to do is smile. He isn’t interested in anything else.
That’s what you were told, and yet…
“It’s funny.” Your husband says after the wedding ceremony.
You’re back at the mansion you’re meant to call home. The grounds are about twice the size of the block you come from. Marble, gold, and diamonds – it’s so outrageously excessive it’s shameless.
“I was told your brothers run routes for us to make ends meet.” He continues, looking at you and the expression on your face as you stare up at the chandelier – it’s clear you’ve never seen anything like it. “Fuck, I mean, I can’t imagine risking my life and still end up needing to pick between food or rent at the end of the day.”
Your gaze falls down to him at that.
Clad in lush wedding expense – white gown and silver tiara – you still stick out like a sore thumb. Something in the way it wears you and not the other way around. It’s obvious you’re uncomfortable with it all. It’s probably worth more than your family's ever owned.
He steps closer with a chuckle.
“Then, the poor suckers go and fuck up so bad they end up needing to sell their own sister.”
He spots your fists ball at your sides. But you keep your cool. Only a slight grimace curling your lips along a tiny furrow between your brows. It all smoothens into something else when he reaches out to grab your chin.
“What’s even more funny…” He tilts your face in his hand – jaded eyes assessing you like he’s found a coin on the ground. “You don’t look like street trash like I expected.”
Your frown returns, and you try pulling back – but he grabs your arm before you can.
Tsking, “Ah-ah – Remember,” His smile sharpens. “You’re property now. When I touch you, you let it happen.”
You weren’t that easily convinced. He bet you’ve had to fight off a lot of unwanted attention back where you come from. But he isn’t some back-alley thug. When he wants something, he expects it not only to be served on a silver platter but to be hand-fed to him with a silver spoon.
He pulls the gun out from behind him. Slotted in the band of his dress trousers, it had stayed hidden beneath the coverage of his suit jacket during the ceremony.
Your throat dries up, and any protests you had died of thirst along with it – eyes wide as you stare at the piece.
You can’t believe he’d carry that thing into a church with vows upon his lips – now pointing it at the very same wife he’d made those vows to.
“Make me spend a single bullet, and your family will share the rest.” He taps the barrel’s mouth against the quiver of your lips. “I’d rather not it come to that. It’ll ruin the carpet…”
You quiver, feeling weak with a shudder – your eyes slip closed with a shivering tear.
“Not to mention this…” He strokes the pitiful droplet off your cheek with the weapon while eyeing the way you quake with grinning eyes. “Pretty little body I’ve only just acquired.”
BNHA – Dabi
JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji
BLLK – Reo
HxH – Illumi
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