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violetrainbow412-blog · 3 years

Text

Makeup [S.B]

Sirius Black x plus size!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: a toxic relationship history and a bit of insecurity because of it.

A/N: I did a questionnaire a few days ago to see what kind of reader you would like me to do. This is the first one I do base on that questionnaire and I want to say the following:

The only reason the reader is specified as "plus size!reader" is that if there is someone who fits this description, feel comfortable.

You will never see something like "her FAT body" NO, NEVER

Much less that the One shot revolves around their weight (neither nationality, nor gender identity, nor sexuality nor all the things that they put in that questionnaire). I only write about NORMAL people in normal situations. All bodies are beautiful, we are all beautiful.

So, if you are a plus size person, welcome. If you are not, you can also read it without feeling left out in any way.

I really hope that you feel comfortable with everything I write and that you know that I seek to be as inclusive as possible. Without more to say, thanks for taking the time to read my stuff. Tell me your opinion, if you want!💕

You looked in the mirror one last time.

Sirius, the boy of your dreams, had asked you out on a date and you wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.

You had met him because you both lived on the same floor of the condo block and it was inevitable to bump into him from time to time. It wasn't the best place to live, it was small and a little dirty, but it was the only thing you could afford and the fastest you could find after that happened.

You liked the way Sirius smelled because when he crossed the corridors, you could perceive a mixture of leather (you supposed it was due to all the clothes he used of this material) and an elegant cologne that drove you crazy.

At first, it scared you a little to see him with that piercing in his eyebrow and his multiple tattoos, but later you realized that he was really nobody to be afraid of, on the contrary, he turned out to be a very tender and sweet boy.

The first time you spoke to him it was because you were struggling to open your door while carrying boxes and bags that you had brought from the supermarket. The boy noticed you were having trouble and walked up to you to offer his help, so (still a bit wary) you said yes.

Once he held your purchases, you could open the lock, but when you turned around, you noticed that Sirius was secretly looking at the contents of your bags and when he realized that you had caught him, he blushed.

"Sorry I'm a little gossipy," he said shyly "I'm Sirius"

"I thought you were a gossip"

"No, my name is Sirius" he laughed and it was your turn to blush.

"Oh, sorry"

"Okay, anyone can get confused" he murmured with his charming smile, handing you what he was holding in his hands "I live in the 512" he informed you. Of course, you knew he lived in that apartment; you had seen him come into its thousands of times "In case you need anything. You know, some plumbing or things that have to do with tools and that shit of men" he murmured kindly. You frowned a little and then he quickly added "I mean, it's not that girls can't do that and it's okay if you know how to do those things, you seem like a smart and capable person. It's just that sometimes it's tedious and requires strength... and it's not that you don't have strength, I mean...” Sirius couldn't continue because he heard you giggle and then realized he was looking like an idiot “Just call me if you need anything and if you want to do it, yes?” he explained to you and you nodded with a smile.

"Thanks for offering your help Sirius" you replied, looking at him over your bags.

"You’re welcome, miss..."

"Y/N" you completed. He smiled and wrapped a dark curl around his finger that fell unruly from his ponytail.

"I'll see you later then, Y/N. It was nice to greet you" he said by way of farewell and you nodded to respond.

You haven't felt like this with any guy since you met your dear (sarcasm) ex-boyfriend. The insecurities that he had created in you kept you from thinking about having something else later and you honestly didn't feel ready to have your heart broken again.

But Sirius continued to be kind to you. Whenever he looked at you, he made an effort to have a topic of conversation, even if you were not so eloquent, and little by little, he was gaining your trust and your affection. As the weeks went by, you became good friends who chatted in the elevator or occasionally (when you weren't late for work) went downstairs just to share a little more time.

Until one day Sirius showed up at your door with his clothes stained with something that looked like paint, his hair tied up in a messy way and smelling of burned food. He was so beautiful in his own way and you were so afraid of falling in love with him because you knew beforehand that having something else would be impossible.

After all, no boy would ever love you. It was something that your ex-boyfriend had commissioned to get very well into your head.

"Go out?" you asked a little confused after he asked you. You didn't want to misunderstand things.

"Yes! We could go wherever you want. For ice cream, to dinner, to a park, to the cinema... I don't know, wherever you can think of”

"Why?" was the first thing that occurred to you to ask. Now it was Sirius' turn to look confused.

"Well, I thought it would be an opportunity to meet and... spend more time together" he explained and although you had understood the idea it seemed impossible to think that the boy had any kind of interest in you "But it's fine if you don't want to, I don't pretend be upset"

"I'd love to," you rushed to say, fearful that the opportunity would slip through your grasp. You saw him smile and after exchanging a few more words he left with a smile that you couldn't see, but that was pure joy.

Finally, the day of "go out" arrived and you were about to tell him that you could not go. You were nervous, more than nervous you were anxious about what could happen or what he could say about you.

You had searched your entire wardrobe for something decent to wear and after pulling and removing and taking out the clothes and trying them on, none of them convinced you. You looked in the mirror and didn't feel like it was enough of an outfit to date a man as handsome as him. In the first place, you did not even know why he had chosen to go out with you, because, although you considered yourself a nice person, you could not boast of being the most interesting.

Don't think about it, don't think about it, you kept repeating yourself as you continued to get ready and looked at the wall clock waiting for the time for Sirius to knock on your apartment.

Once you were with your outfit ready, you looked yourself up and down and although he did not completely convince you, you decided to tell yourself that you looked beautiful. Still a little nervous you looked at the makeup bag that was under some things on your dressing table. You hadn't put on makeup for years, because you were still scared to hear the comments in your head with that horrible voice.

You look like a whore.

You shook your head to ward off all the negativity and taking a breath you plucked up the courage to open the zippers and remove the beautiful makeup that you had abandoned. When you were finishing and without giving a chance to regret there was a knock on the door that took you by surprise. You went out and found Sirius wearing a striped t-shirt and ripped jeans that reminded you of that blond singer... Kurt was his name?

"Wow" you heard him say and he caught you staring at him adoringly. But you noticed that he looked at you the same "You are beautiful" he said with a smile. You frowned, again a little afraid that he was lying, but you tried again to push away those ideas of self-sabotage and smiled widely.

"I'm glad you like it. You look very handsome, you look like...”

"A rock star? I know” he said winking at you and managing to make you laugh “It's a joke, thanks for the compliment, sweetie” he replied, with his pretty smile of sealed lips. Just when you were smiling at him you watched him pay special attention to your makeup and put on a face that completely terrified you, taking all your confidence.

"Something wrong?"

"Your makeup" he pronounced. You felt your heart squeeze a little.

"You do not like? I can go take it off if you find it ugly or something like that…”

"Ugly?" he asked offended "No! It’s beautiful, but I feel like it lacks a touch. You know, the cherry on the cake that stands out in your eyes” he explained. You looked at him confused for the third time and he snapped his fingers as if the answer had suddenly come to his head "Eyeliner"

"Eyeliner?"

"Of course! Don't you like to use it? " he said kindly, turning his head to the side. You denied.

"I never learned how to do it" you lied. There was a bit of truth to it, but it also had a lot to do with the fact that he kept repeating that you looked vulgar with the eyeliner.

“I'm good at it! Come with me,” he murmured. He took your hand carefully and dragged you gently through the hall until they reached his apartment. You were a nervous wreck when he invited you to join him. "Sorry about the mess, I'm really the most distracted person on the planet and I forget to arrange things," he said with an embarrassed smile. You looked at some vinyl lying around, clothes, food packages, paintings, a guitar. There was a certain peace and beauty within all that mess, completely reflecting the boy who was desperately searching for his favorite eyeliner.

"Come," he asked once he left his room. You sat in a red leather chair he had and he leaned in your direction, very close to your face "Raise your head and look slightly down" he asked you and you listened. He took you by the chin with one hand and you saw him stick his tongue out just a little bit (as a sign of his concentration) while drawing on your eyelids. When he indicated that he had finished you saw him smile from ear to ear, which you imitated when he saw yourself in a mirror.

"Wow..." you whispered. Years ago, you loved putting on makeup and especially eyeliner, so seeing you again like that you were surprised. Besides, he was right, his hand was excellent at it.

"Now it's perfect, right?" he said excitedly. Perfect, that's how Sirius described what was in front of his eyes.

"Yeah... it looks much better" you admitted shyly. You couldn't believe that Sirius could make you feel so comfortable and calm, as well as help you maintain your confidence in yourself.

"I just hope I don't meet jealous guys for not having someone so pretty accompanying them," he said flirtatiously, making you laugh because of your nerves and making you blush "Shall we go?" he asked smiling and extending a hand to help you up.

You looked at him, still amazed to have found someone like that in your life, and took his hand with a smile.

Who would say that sometimes love stories begin like this?

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

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#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle #tw self harm #tw suicude #tw child abuse

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ourmiraclealigner · 3 years

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One and Only

Lewis Nixon x Reader

gif not mine! credit to owner.

request: anon

taglist: @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @mavysnavy @ivy-miranda-2390 @ya-yeeteth @rayofshanshine @primusk @punkgeekchic @inglourious-imagines @wexhappyxfew @vintagelavenderskies @easy-company-tradition @meteora-fc @teenmagazines @order-of-river-phoenix @contrabandhothead

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Lewis Nixon was never one to get jealous- he never had a reason to be. He was a tall ivy- league man with dark hair and dark eyes, never having any trouble with women. He had joined Easy with a wife and child and was perfectly content with the life he had at home. He had tried to distance himself from the men in the beginning, only hearing about them when he listened to Dick. But as time went on, he found himself spending more and more time, getting to know each one more personally.

Yet, there was one that he was interested in the most- (Y/N). At first, he kept it professional, wanting to get to know her as much as possible before doing anything he would regret. As they continued to grow closer, he had become bolder, starting to put his arm around her shoulders, brush pieces of her hair behind her ear, and shower her in compliments. And before he knew it, Lewis Nixon was in love.

Their relationship progressed fast, wanting to make up for the lost time. There were very seldom moments they would be away from each other, and it seemed all of the destruction and heartbreak had pulled them closer together.

Now, as there was an end of the war in sight, Lew found himself stressed about their relationship. He worried that once all of this ended, they'd just go back to the states and act as if nothing had happened. He knew it was likely; he was a difficult person to be with and was more trouble than it was worth. He won't blame her if that's what she chose to do.

He stared across the river to the German side, Dick next to him as they spoke in hushed voices about the coming patrol. This was commonplace for them- discussing military strategy, command, and members of Easy. He found it hard to focus, wanting to do nothing more than slip back into his mind, but he knew now wasn't the time.

"Speirs pick the men for the patrol tonight?" Lew asked, looking up at his redheaded friend.

"I think so.." Dick trailed off, mind somewhere else, as he tried to play the patrol out in his mind. He didn't want any casualties this close to the inevitable German surrender.

Eyebrows furrowed, Lew turned when he heard a familiar laugh, eyes immediately landing on the two. He couldn't help the anger that coursed through his veins as he watched (Y/N) and Speirs talking, casually strolling through the grey streets of Hagenaou, acting as if the world wasn't at war around them.

It wasn't as if Lewis didn't want her to have friends. He did- he knew she needed a support system as they had been through a lot these past few months. He couldn't always be there, and if he wasn't, he wanted her to have someone. But there was just something about how Ron looked at her and the way she looked up at him that rubbed him the wrong way.

"You think those are good?" Dick asked as soon as he finished rattling off the names of the men who were chosen to go, turning when he received no response from his friend. He followed the path of Lewis's eyes, understanding his silence when he got a grasp of the scene. "Speirs!" He called, watching Ron's head turn up at the voice. "Get over here."

Ron jogged over (Y/N) at his heels, a light smile painted on her lips when she caught sight of Lewis. She stood next to him, smiling fading when he didn't look or greet her. "Sir." She spoke softly to get his attention, trying to keep the act that he was nothing more to her than a superior officer. Maybe in his coldness towards her, he was attempting the same thing. But then again, he had never acted like this, and that worried her.

"You can go." Lewis finally spoke, eyes casting down to meet hers. His words had a bit of frustration, his hands forming tight fists in the pockets of his warm jacket. If she wanted Ron, he wanted nothing to do with her.

With a quick nod, she turned to Dick and Ron, mumbling, "I'll be back at CP." Before heading back the way, she had come. She was immediately lost in her thoughts, trying to explain away Lew's behavior. She went through all of the conversations they had had recently, wondering if it was something she had said. When she couldn't remember any instance where she could have offended him, she moved on to things she had done and still couldn't find anything.

With a sigh, she flopped onto the couch, flashing a quick, polite smile to Lip before thinking again. She hadn't even realized she had made it back to CP. Fingers tapping against the soft fabric of the arm of the couch as she let her head fall back, eyes following the patterns of the ceiling. What had she done?

Minutes felt like hours as she continued her endless barrage of thoughts, only snapping when she heard the door open. Three sets of heavy footsteps entered, Lip standing to greet the men as they continued their earlier conversation about the patrol. (Y/N) stood when she saw Lew behind Dick, her heat starting to beat a little faster as she knew the only way to solve this would be to confront him.

She took a deep breath before speaking. "Sir." She kept her voice steady, beads of sweat collecting on her palms. "May I speak to you in private?" She looked directly at Lew, so there was no confusion as to who she was speaking to.

"Yeah." Dick chimed in, looking between the couple. "You two go along; I need to find Sink anyway." And with that, he was gone, leaving Lew with no other choice than to follow (Y/N) outside.

They both shivered as they stepped outside, the cold air floating under their scarves and hitting their bare skin. They walked for a few minutes in silence, Lew trailing slightly behind (Y/N) until they found a little corner to stand in for privacy. He stood, back against the cool bricks of a building, dark eyes steady on her.

"Did I do something?" She asked, not wasting any time in getting to the conversation. "Because if I did.. I'm sorry, and I want to fix it. I don't want you to be upset with me." She tried to catch his eyes again when he started to look away.

"If you-" Lew cleared his throat, not wanting her to hear the shakiness in his voice. "If you don't want to be with me if this is just something to get you through the war, tell me right now."

"What?" She asked, features creased with concern, "No. I don't want that. Why would you even think such a thing?"

He let out a breath, creating a white cloud over them as they stood in silence. "I saw the way you were with Speirs today." He finally spoke, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. "And I know you don't look at me like that. I don't want to be your second choice when we get back to the states."

"You think you're my second choice?" She asked, starting to understand why he was so upset. "It doesn't matter what part of the world I live in-, you'll always be my first choice. Speirs is nothing more than a friend, I promise. I don't want you to have to worry about me doing something like that to you because I won't. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable today; it wasn't my intention." She spoke with so much conviction; he almost forgave her on the spot.

"I know what you want; you don't want me."

"Lewis." She spoke calmly, keeping her eyes on him as she wanted him to believe her. "I'm with you because I love you, not Speirs. If I wanted to be with him, I would. But I want you."

He was quiet, taking a few moments to think about her words before nodding. He felt tears prick his eyes, realizing she truly loved him for who he was- even the bad. It had been a long time since he had felt that way, and he knew he was projecting his insecurities on her. She loved him as he loved her, and there was no reason to push her away.

"You mean that?" He asked, a large hand reaching out to grab hers. His skin tingled as theirs touched, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. He pulled his hand away for a brief second to pull her close and press a kiss to her lips before pulling her into a tight hug.

"With my whole heart."

With a teary chuckle, he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck; arms wrapped tightly around her as he tried to protect her from the cold. "You don't know how much I love you." He spoke into her scarf, words muffled by the soft fabric. "I've never loved anything more than you."

#hbo war #band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers headcanons #lewis nixon headcannon #lewis nixon imagine #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon

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itsthe-neo-zone · 4 years

Text

Married to Mr Choi - TXT series

Please read the Masterlist before continuing ahead with this chapter.

Chapter 2:

“Hurry up and fix her hair.” the clipping at my scalp wouldn't end...

“Where’s the pins? this part is slipping.” a pull here, a tug there...

“Here, let me past. I'll help with the makeup.”

“Stop, stop, stop.” I pulled my hands up waving them around carelessly. This was hopeless. I was in the same position for the past 2 hours and it was getting frustrating, I couldn’t breath without someone doting on me unnecessarily. It’s like I was told I could only live for the next 20 hours.

I stormed out of the room, not handling the heat anymore. Every chance I tried to take to talk to Wooyoung he brushed me off like I was 6 or something.

I was livid, absolutely fuming, if you could see smoke evaporating off my arms and head it would be visible from 10 meters away.

The guilt tripping and the manipulation was one thing, but it was a completely different situation if I was being sold for a half of Gangnam and a few toy arms for my brothers to play about with.

“This isn’t happening, I’m not being sold off.”

“You aren’t though.” I rolled my eyes; the lying was going to end here. I couldn’t take any more of this...

“What is this then? Hm? What do you call this?” I shoved the papers into Wooyoung’s face, the others were spread out across the salon.

They watched what was happening but didn’t respond. They weren’t about to get involved. Typical mafia behaviour.

“It’s a contract, but it has nothing to-”

“Oh really? Why's my name splodged all over it then?” I stomped my feet on the floor, Six hours to the wedding and here I am half-dressed and a complete wreck.

“Mila you need to calm down!” Seonghwa tried to break up the fight that was about to start but I was having none of it.

Deep, deep, deep, down I knew I was overreacting, and I should listen to what they have to say, but they didn’t have to know that... My dignity was being smashed and trampled on; I couldn’t stand here like a lifeless dummy any longer.

“It’s not your name written here; you’re not being sold off like boxed arms so don’t tell me to calm down!” my voice was getting louder by the second.

“Mila Sofía Tesoro, you’ll stop right this instant.” I flinched. The echo of my mother’s voice snapped against the marbled walls and came at me like a tsunami.

I felt the blood pumping fast across my body and it felt like I was buzzing, a strange vibrating feeling crawled across my skin.

Everything went silent for a short moment...

I stared at her in disbelief, she pushed me – her own daughter – into an arranged marriage based on work and business reasons for our family and she shamelessly yelled at me when I caught them in the act?

“So what if they created a deal along with your marriage? It’s what all good traders do.”

She entered calmly into the room but her eyes were a raging fire of shock, she wouldn't think me, her lovely and quiet Mila would make such an outburst...

“Its what all gangs do...” the mutter went past her but not past Wooyoung who sent a glance.

“You should be proud of your brothers, if it wasn’t for Wooyoung,” she set her hand onto his shoulder standing against me. “You wouldn’t be marrying into such a wealthy and strong family like the Choi clan.”

“What if I never wanted to marry from them? You ever thought about that?” I spat back. It was starting to hit me; I was being robbed of my freedom.

“Stop acting so oblivious. You knew this was going to happen all along, you were born with no options...

This was the plan the moment you were born.”

Thinking back, I know she was right. They didn’t keep this a secret or something that should be hidden from me, this was always bound to happen and secretly I knew that…

Her mouth a gun, the words shooting through me like a bullet, each one hitting every barrier I had put up over this topic. I tricked myself ever since the age of 4 to believe I had a choice.

She was completely right, I traced back to every memory I had locked away and buried deep in my head.

But I wasn’t ready to give up, I wasn’t ready to go down without a fight. My stubborn and absentminded self wouldn’t let me believe their hurtful and inevitable destiny for me.

I reached the elevator and decided to press any random floor, all of them seemed to have an extended balcony. I needed fresh air right now. I felt like I was suffocating.

“Your suffering now because of your headless thoughts. If you would have accepted your future this wouldn’t be your position right now.”

My nerves in the tips of my fingers weakened droppings some of the papers in my hand.

I wanted to run away and leave, to never come back here again. Maybe it would have been better if I left with father...

I ran out of the main room and down corridors, -ignoring every call and wail of my name, being completely honest, I didn't even want to hear my name- the hotel booked for the formality seemed luxurious than I had expected, I hadn’t taken a decent look at the structure.

Pushing against the main glass doors harshly I sucked the air in, it’s strange, I was breaking to the surface after being underwater for minutes. I inhaled deeply.

Every second the elevator took. Every minute I spent making my way to an outdoor opening felt like I was slowly losing breath and emptying out.

It took me a few seconds but I made it.

“Excuse me, are you ok?” A voice came from the left of me, my eyes widened and all at once the trees and garden set up with seating and bouquets didn’t catch my attention for much longer.

Leaning against the railing I took a quick moment to gather myself. The cool breeze against my skin calmed me for a moment.

I’m sure if I had a mirror my face would be as red as a strawberry. I puffed out a few times.

Turning to see who was addressing me in such a calm and polite manner, I glanced up and down at the tall and slender figure of a young male.

His maroon-brown hair was styled in a casual manner contrasting against the suit he was adorned in.

“I’m fine.”

What caught my attention the most was the concerned look on his face and the sparkling round orbs he had. The warmest feeling filled my entire being with a single look into the depth his eyes had.

Two large windows onlooking into his soul.

“Don’t look fine to me.” He spoke after a short pause. His voice was deep, and he mumbled the words. I noticed the accent he had, English must not be his first language.

“Needed a breath of fresh… air is all.” I turned my body to face him and only then did I feel a sense of regret for running out without getting the gown beneath patched up slightly.

“Ah.” I closed my eyes pressing my lips into a thin line, impulsivity and recklessness always got me into situations like this. Awkward was practically my middle name.

“Sorry for…” I waved my hands about hinting and the mess I was in, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“Ah no, no its quite alright.”

His smile was so soft and as he chuckled lightly it brought a glimmer of warmth to he atmosphere.

“Anyways, what are you here for? you look-” I paused trying to think of a suitable word that wouldn’t offend the good-looking stranger and make me look like an absolute pervert. “Uh- orderly?”

I slipped my tongue back into my mouth. It was sticking out to the side, a habit picked up from San. The stranger smirked, he was perceptive, attentive to the movements and mannerisms I subconsciously did. Reminded me of a squirrel.

“Thank you, I’m close with the groom, there is a wedding here this evening?” His accent was adorable it added to the charisma he had.

“Yeah, there is.” I smiled; it wasn’t bursting with happiness though. He brought back the melancholy I was feeling, it was only gone for a second, but I wished the moment were longer. It had been a while since I felt this calm.

“But you came here, looking sad. Is e-everything… ok?” he stuttered a little, but the words were clear and understandable.

Hoping he wouldn’t notice through my clothes I was the bride, I stayed silent for a moment before deciding to talk again.

“I just- I needed a break from people. I felt really… overwhelmed.” It was hard explaining my emotions. I wasn’t good with words especially when it came to topic is like this. Emotions and all.

Exhaling I turned to look out into the distance the rush was still going in the gardens. People down there; they looked like ants.

“So whats the groom like?” I kept my flickering eyes focused down and away from him.

“We are very close; he can be a bother sometimes but he’s very mature and older than me, so I trust him. He’s great!”

My heart started pounding so loud, afraid he’d hear I set my hand on my chest breathing deeply. I was trying to be as subtle as possible.

He must be 28 or maybe even 34. I would gladly take my life right now.

“That’s great.” Cursing internally for the voice break I had, I excused myself with a cough.

Passing it off as a croaky throat wasn’t as hard as understanding that the man I’m marrying tonight was old. Older than the stranger next to me.

“I should get going. Got to prepare for the wedding.” He brushed the edges of the suits. He did look like he was leaving when I burst in.

“Taehyun.” Ah…

“Whats your name?” I mumbled, wanting him to stay a little longer, even if I had met him for a few seconds...

He seemed like a good person to talk to. Someone who would listen.

“Will I see you at the wedding? Are you invited?” His head piped up after turning, definitely a squirrel.

I sighed “I’ll surprise you.”

“Just the veil, that’s all that’s left. You’re ready.”

It’ll be a surprise alright. I hated the idea of ruining my chances, but this was the last few moments I would be able to freely joke and mingle with those unfamiliar to me. The thrill I would have no longer after tonight.

~~~

After reluctantly getting back to the others and having the final preparations complete I had finally done my fittings,

And about time too, my feet were starting to numben up.

If I explained how enthralled I was with hearing those words, it wouldn’t be enough to fully describe how happy I was. Dressing and preparing the ‘image’ they found to be perfect

“You may go down to the hallway and greet some of the guests. Some of your friends are down there.”

“Who’s Beomgyu?”

But it was short lived.

"Don’t go into the garden though, Beomgyu is there.” The words were muttered carelessly.

“Your husband to be, silly.”

Oh so that’s his name? I barely knew a thing about him. Apart from the fact that he’s older than the age of 25, it’s what that taehyun guy said.

“Omg, Mila! You look great.” Yuna squealed, the energy in her was incomparable at the moment. She was freely jumping up and down. God did I wish I were in a skimpy skirt and flowy top, would have been ten times better than what I’m in.

As I made my way down, I had trouble with my dress trying to lift it, so I don’t sweep the carpeted floor of all 6 levels of the hotel.

The soft satin kept slipping past my grip, leading to a red and puffed out state for my entrance to the hall.

It was a few steps from the stairs to the grand entrance, but it felt like miles away.

“Lucky! This is so… freaking, heavy!” drawling my words out I tugged at the weighted train.

“You should be glad this was the dress they picked the other one was 2 times heavier.” Yuna's voice was filled with so much happiness, you'd think she's the one getting married...

“We can’t have a beautiful bride get married in a garbage bag, can we? Especially one as pretty as you.”

“It’s not about the designer tag, I’d be fine with practically anything at this point.” I huff getting a little frustrated.

“You could give me a garbage bag and I’ll gladly accept.”

I turned to my side to see a very tall man, the first thing I noticed was his handsome features, I was sure- for a second, I was staring at a doll. He couldn’t be real.

“Are you kidding me? I look like a mess.” He laughed and it was like the heavens had blessed humans with ears just to hear the harmonious melody of his laughter.

He clicked his tongue “Beomgyu is lucky. He’s marrying this angel.” Humming he lifts the side of the dress warily but with ease. A light grin on his face when I leaned back at his proximity.

“Is he blind,” jokingly I ask Yuna but as I turn to face her, she is out of it. The dress lingering between her fingers, all control gone from the gaze of the tall mysterious man.

“No, yo- you are though.” She mumbles he chuckles a little helping me to the doorway, before winking and slipping past the doors. He was clearly much older and his hair was dark with locks of brown.

“Jungkook… he’s so pretty...” yuna was practically drooling at this point.

“You know him?”

#tomorrow x together #txt series #txt fanfic #ateez fanfic #beomgyu x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez smut #kpop mafia au #txt yeonjun #txt soobin #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #txt x reader

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