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#arranged marriage au
edenesth · 3 months
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The Way to His Heart [Masterlist]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Genre: heavy angst, fluff, hurt/comfort
Trigger Warnings: mentions of past physical abuse, mistreatment, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, scars, trauma (lmk if I missed any)
Total Word Count: 75.2k words (not including bonus content)
Status: Completed
ATEEZ Masterlist
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Read on: ⟦ Wattpad ⟧ ⟦ Tumblr - links below ⟧
📢 Notice: Tag List | Group Chat | Poll
Teaser | Mood board 1 | Mood board 2
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Bonus Parts (Coming soon)
SPINOFF MASTERLIST
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth
DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF THE WORK HERE.
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peachiexparfait · 4 months
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DeadSerious Arranged Marriage but Ra's actually has no idea that Damian (his future heir) is set to be married to the Ghost King.
Sure, he makes a deal to get more knowledge on the Lazarus Pits, but the contract, in context, seems more like a dual to the death -which, in ghost terms, yeah, makes sense- but still.
He figured his heir would win the dual and he'd still be in control of the Pits.
Ra's also has no idea the current Ghost King, Pariah Dark, is going to get his ass kicked by a 14 year old who gets his title in the future.
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j0hndraws · 25 days
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Jack being a lil menace will never change
this is @seafoamdew ‘s Arranged Marriage AU and im so glad it exists
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konigsblog · 8 days
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more arranged marriage between reader and farmer!könig, please? 🌝❤️
tw: arranged marriage au, rape/non-con, forced impregnation and breeding. dead dove: do not eat. 18+ tell me if i missed anything. 🔞
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your parents knew it was harsh to arrange a marriage with the farmer of the village, although, they cared more about his money and wealth and status around the village, how you'd be viewed as his pretty, little wife, respected and admired by those around you.
that's what they want you to believe — that it's for your own sake — but, a part of you is aware that they're doing this for könig's money, as he pays them to keep you by his side. for könig, this is everything he's wanted, whilst you avoid him like the plague and dismiss every attempt when he tries having sex with you.
farmer-könig spends ages on the field, harvesting the fruits and vegetables whilst you hide inside, ignoring your arranged husband. könig attempts to please you, to make you happy, but eventually, he's left without a choice but to take the old-fashioned route and have his way with you regardless...
he'd drug you, get you intoxicated enough where your mind is easily shaped and you're a pliant plaything for him to use for an hour or so, his obedient wife waiting on him, to be torn apart and pierced with his hung, musky cock. the smell of his sweat and musk was a scent you were all too familiar with, smelling it on him after he'd arrived home from the farm, sweat running down his forehead. you could smell it against his neck as he lowered himself onto you, his weight holding you down and the scent of alcohol coming from your breath.
his large and calloused hands began moving as he wasted no time at getting what he pleased and yearned for. könig's fingers ran up your back, unclasping your bra and removing it to see what he craved, the essence of your sweet arousal leaving könig insatiable and hungry. he couldn't wait any longer, as he gripped your breast firmly and began to suckle at your hardened nub, your nipple perky, hardening as he rolled his tongue around it. you mewled and moaned drunkenly, cunt leaving your panties wet, huffing and puffing with confusion, and your drunkenness leaving you exhausted and weak.
his other hand began to sink into your panties, and into your sopping wet hole. he could already feel how slick you were, along with how tight you were — he almost felt guilty for doing this, knowing you'd be aching and in agony the entire time — but, his dick weeped and twitched inside his boxers as he rolled his bulge against your clothed cunt. his lips popped off from your nipple, your eyes wide as the cold air against your sore nipple, causing goosebumps to spread along your body, and the wet sounds of your pleasure audible as he thrusted his calloused, thick fingers inside your cunt.
his fingers began to pull your panties down, revealing that glossy cunt that he longed for — that he dreamed and fantasised about. the slickness looked delicious to könig, who couldn't help but free his large cock from his boxers, springing out and hitting his lower, muscular abdomen as he began to push inside, one hand gripping his base and the other spreading your slit open for easy access. your folds latched onto him almost instantly, eyes wide with shock at the ache and pleasure between your thighs, the force of his meaty girth leaving tears rolling down your cheeks.
your chest rose and fell quickly, back arched at the throbbing sensation of his thick dick pushing deep inside of you. könig couldn't control himself as he felt himself grow and drool inside of you, tip leaking with pearly, milky beads of arousal, your eyes glistening with tears at the painful stretch and uneasiness. something was nagging you that this wasn't what you wanted, that something was wrong — yet, you ignored these messages and signals running through you, his hands on your wrist restraining you as he fucked himself hard into your hole, thrusts becoming merciless and sore, the tip nuzzling against your cervix.
tears ran down your face at the sight of your cunny swollen and stuffed with his hot, bulbous cock, heaving and looking around dizzily, feeling the sudden sensation of his tip spurting into you, weeping hot loads of his milky arousal into your pussy, with the hopes of impregnating you.
it's not as if you could stay away from him whilst pregnant; you would need guidance, support... everything was working the way he wanted it to go, and poor you, left defenceless, with his potent seed filling your cunt ‘til a bulge formed in your stomach. :(
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seafoamdew · 8 months
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Ahhhh this prompt made me giggly!
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youneedsomeprompts · 4 months
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~ IT'S FATE, RIGHT? ~ ARRANGED MARRIAGE PROMPTS
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requested by: various anons requests: see full requests at the end of the post
Feel free to use and reblog!
Part 1 (kinda): 10 marriage of convenience prompts
Setting/action:
#1 - freaking out briefly every morning when they realise they're sharing the house with their newlywed spouse #2 - finding out new quirks of the other with great fascination #3 - trying to willingly make the other a part of their daily habits #4 - getting that strange feeling in their belly whenever they introduce the other as their "spouse" #5 - being awkward around each other because they don't know how polite or how casual they should be #6 - being nervous because how do you do the married thing? #7 - slowly but surely growing fond of the other #8 - getting used to the other's company and being completely thrown when they're suddenly in a situation on their own #9 - making time to have dates to get to know the other better because you should know your spouse, right? (there's absolutely nothing romantic about it, alright?) #10 - biting their tongue because somehow everything they say comes out as flirty and that's not who they are, right?
Dialogue:
#11 - "We have to be married, but we don't have to pretend we are that lovey-dovey newlyweds when we're clearly not." "I'm just trying to be nice." #12 - "You... look pretty." "Really? You never said that before." "Well, then certainly I was blind." #13 - "Wow, you're actually really fun to be around." "Well, and you really have to work on your compliment skills." #14 - "You don't know how glad I am that fate brought us together. This is much more pleasant than I had thought." #15 - "I think we're doing this pretty well. I am certainly glad to have you by my side while figuring out all this being married stuff." #16 - "Who would have thought we would end up like this?" #17 - "Thank you for being so patient with me." "How I see it, marriage isn't about intense feelings and going all in for one particular moment. It's about making a promise for the future and every day to come to stick it out together and be each other's backbone. What is marriage if not patience?" #18 - "May I ask you something? Why me? It's certainly not because you were madly in love with me. So, why me?" #19 - "We're the bestest of teams, aren't we? Unstoppable! The ultimate duo!" #20 - "Even though this was meant to be a rational affair and just a wise deal, you changed my life. Marrying you was both the best and the most nerve-racking thing I could've done."
(requests: hii i was thinking could you do like a newly arranged marriage thing and like action prompts and dialogue prompts where they haven't gotten too comfortable around the other yet but they're starting to like each other or something 😭 I hope I could explain it somewhat well; Hey could you do an arranged marriage prompt where they don't hate each other but are just nervous around each other ish; arranged marriage secret affection prompts?)
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krirebr · 4 months
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More Than This 1
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader
Word Count: ~4.1k
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother. 
“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.
“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk. 
You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.
“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”
Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn. 
“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?” 
“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”
Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible. 
“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”
At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”
Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”
Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.
He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him. 
“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.
Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called. 
Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you. 
You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.
When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”
At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.
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You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable. 
When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”
That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.
“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.
“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.
“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.
“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”
You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”
“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”
“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”
That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”
“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”
“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”
You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”
“He give you a name?”
“Ransom Drysdale.”
Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.
“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.
“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”
“But you don’t like him.”
“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”
“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”
You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”
You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”  
Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”
You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”
He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”
“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–” 
“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”
“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”
Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”
You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.
“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.
All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”
“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”
You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”
“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.
“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.
He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.
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As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.
For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck. 
The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead. 
So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to. 
Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.
Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom. 
He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.
You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”
“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”
He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?”  His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering. 
Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.
You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”
He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”
You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say. 
He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”
“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.
He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”
The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was. 
You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.
Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.
He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”
Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”
He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”
You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”
He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”
You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”
Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”  
“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”
“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.
You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”
He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest. 
“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”
You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?
“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.
“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”
“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.
“Fuck,” you whispered.
He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”
At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”
And then he was gone and you were alone.
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You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead. 
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Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight. 
Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”
You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded. 
“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him. 
“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”
“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”
He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”
You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”
His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”
“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”
“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.
As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.
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When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.
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Part Two
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chuluoyi · 4 days
Text
UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 13
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✩°。 ⋆ seize your happiness
- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"
in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.
genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, angst, hurt/comfort
notes: i know i said this chapter will be the last... but apparently i still have a lot to say so... :') don't worry. chapter 14 will be the last chapter for real. pls bear with the angst one more time! and this turned out as a whopping 5k too oops
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✩°。 ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter twelve : the most twisted curse <- previous ✩ next -> last chapter : to the one i love
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What does happiness mean to you now?
When you finally woke up from your long dream and saw Megumi, you thought you were the happiest because for so long, you defined being with him was enough to make you forget all the shit you had been through in this horrible life.
"Sena...?" You heard him before you saw him. His voice cut through the blur that veiled your vision and you could barely discern his figure.
Megumi immediately got a hold of your arm, eyes wildly focusing on yours as you fluttered your eyes open. And when you blinked, his voice almost broke― "Sena!"
You felt rigid, like a broken doll. Megumi grasped your left hand tightly in his, intertwining your fingers.
"You woke up..." he muttered with a strained, choked voice. He was still out of focus but you could hear him very well. "You really woke up... Thank god..."
And through his voice, you recognize pain. Several things ran through your mind then. Why is he here? Is he safe?
What about Kurusu Hana?
Yet then all of them didn't seem to matter. He is here. Whatever happened, he is really here. He didn't leave you after all.
Still, a part of you suddenly harbored suspicions that he might abandon you once again, and so you didn't dare to hope, and you were even convinced of it when you felt a lump in your throat—
You clawed on the skin of your neck in utter panic when you found that no sound came out of your vocal chords. Megumi obviously noticed your distress― "Hey, what is it? What do you feel―?"
But then you were gasping for air and Megumi didn't think anymore. He hit the nurses' call button and held you as you trashed on the bed. "Sena, hold on―hold on! I've called the doctor! You're going to be okay, you hear me?"
The heart monitor connected to you was blaring, your whole body was now shaking, and you turned to him helplessly like a fish out of water, mouth gaping to let out any sound but unable to. You couldn't speak― it felt as if someone had stolen your voice and tightened a vice around your throat.
In that moment, Megumi caught the sheer terror in your eyes, and he bent over to pull you in an embrace. "I'm here. I'm here. Focus on me. Let's take a deep breath together―"
He coached your breathing, and gradually, you started to calm down. The heart monitor in your room no longer blared like a siren, and your fingers clung to his shirt with a grip stronger than you intended.
"You're okay..." Megumi whispered in your ear, disregarding his own thundering heartbeat by reassuring you. "You hear me, Sena? You're going to be alright."
Right in this moment, nothing else mattered. You got him back. And he was here, with you. You were certain you had never felt such a profound mix of happiness and relief in your entire life.
The doctor and several nurses then swarmed the room and took over to check on you. Dizziness washed over you—their voices merging into a cacophony that made your feel exhausted, and before you knew it you fell back asleep.
. . .
"After experiencing trauma, it's not uncommon for a patient to develop a post-traumatic mutism," the doctor explained, and Megumi was listening intently. "In most cases, the patient will regain their ability to speak after attending several therapy sessions, so you don't need to worry, sir."
Megumi let out a long sigh. "Is there any long-term side effects from this?"
"No. If the patient made full recovery, then I'd say there's a low chance of any further complications."
Once the doctor left the room, Megumi resumed his post next to your bedside once again, observing your sleeping face.
His heart broke under the weight of the reality laid to him. You had endured a trauma so severe after your duel with Naoya it left you mute. Ultimately, he saw it as a reflection of his own failure to protect you too―he was supposed to be the one to go against him. And yet, you...
Seeing you struggle to breathe like that was terrifying. As your chest heaved with every breath, Megumi felt a slight relief wash over him.
At least you're now truly safe. At least... nothing more can harm you here.
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Megumi is always here.
Days after you first regained consciousness were slow and idyllic, and Megumi was always ready to attend to your every need. Though you supposed that he had to, as your guardian, since you had no one left.
With your voice still not returning, communicating with him proved to be a little challenging.
"Do you want some water?" he inquired, approaching with a glass and the pitcher in hand. You shifted your gaze away from the boring magazine the hospital had supplied and nodded.
"Here." Megumi handed you the glass and you took slow sips, before fixing your eyes on him.
It's been days. But neither of you had talked about what happened. Before now, the last you'd seen Megumi was when he left you during Zen'in's last hearing, when every bit of your dirty secret was exposed before him.
The memory of that day still made you shiver. The absolute hopelessness you felt, the way Megumi looked at you, his cutting words―
"Hey, Sena―" Megumi's got a grip on your shoulders, face contorting in worry. "What's wrong?"
You looked right into his dark green eyes, and saw nothing but concern. None of the Megumi who was so ready to cut all ties with you back then.
You were flattered that he was here, but still, you needed answers.
Reaching out for the notebook and pen Megumi had gotten you for your temporary communication, you scribbled your burning question.
Why are you here?
Megumi wouldn't admit it, but his heart sank upon reading your inquiry. The fact that you felt the need to ask it was just heartbreaking.
"You were badly injured. How can I not be here?" he responded, shoulder sagged. "I should be the one asking you―how could you have gone to Zen'in Naoya in the first place?"
Then it dawned to you. Your letter. He dropped everything to get you.
I have to end him with my own hands.
"Still! That's not―!" Megumi almost raised his voice before he caught himself. "That's not any reason for you to face him in a duel!"
He would have gone after you if I didn't.
"That's what should have been. You should've let him gone after me." There was something inside him that was this close from bursting and he was trying his hardest so it wouldn't. "At any given chance, you should've prioritized your safety first. And back then, even I―!"
I've left you. Megumi let out a sharp breath and looked away. He couldn't bring himself to say it.
You blinked at him, getting a sense of what he meant, and reached for your pen again.
I also did it for myself. He murdered my mom. I just wanted to end it with him.
"What do you― why do you have to―?!"
In that moment, Megumi felt as if he had been slapped in the face. He made you think that way. It was dreadful that you chose that self-destructive path because these unfortunate chains of events.
He was still grappling with the overwhelming guilt when you presented him with your next question.
Aren't we getting a divorce?
"No." His response was swift and resolute, his gaze boring straight into you. "Never."
You looked at him questioningly because you could still vividly recall the divorce papers you tearfully signed and left with Kurusu Hana. And seeing your confusion, Megumi thought he had to set it straight.
"It's my fault," he began. "I shouldn't have― I shouldn't have left you back then. And I should've never left you with the divorce papers. I wasn't in the right mind."
You looked down, pondering his words. Sure, he wasn't in the right mind―but at one point, that was what he wanted.
It still made you a bit uncomfortable.
Megumi held your shoulders again, sincere eyes piercing into your heart. "I regret it all. I really do. If I could turn back the time, I wouldn't leave you as I did."
Your eyes widened, wonderstruck, when a tear trickled down his cheek.
"You stupid." He brought you into his arms then, voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry― I'm sorry for making you feel that you are alone. I'm sorry for leaving you. But even so, please, do not ever, ever put yourself in that kind of danger again. If something happens to you, I―"
His body was now trembling, and you put your hands around him. "How... could you scare me like that...? H-how could you just leave me with that letter... and tell me not to find you? Don't you know how frightened I was...?"
You didn't really know what you were feeling right now, feeling the dampness in your shoulder as he cried for you. Touched, sad, happy―all these emotions swirled within you at the same time. But still, the irrefutable truth was...
You are in love with this man. You were sure of it.
But...
"Me...gumi..."
Almost faint, but he heard it. Your voice that he had missed so much. Megumi pulled away from you, searching your face, and greeted by your soft smile.
You reached out for him and wiped his tears with your thumb. "Don't... cry..."
"Ah..." He pulled you into his embrace again, this time tighter. He buried his face in your neck, the ache in his chest almost made him burst as he shook with tears. "I'm so... so glad...! Sena, I―I'm really glad you're s-safe..."
And you are glad that he is too. That he is this concerned about you. That he loves you still.
. . .
And in the weeks that followed, you really thought you could sweep it under the rug and forget everything.
You thought that you wouldn't want nothing more now that he was back to you, as yours. You thought you'd be content with everything, even if you had to pick up the shattered remains.
But that wasn't the case. Not really.
Because every now and then, you still remembered how you betrayed him, and also the searing ache of heartbreak of when he left you.
...and so long as you still felt this way, you thought, it would be hard for you to be truly live the happy life your mother had wished for you.
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Something about you had changed.
Megumi supposed it was the effect of the trauma you had experienced, and so he never brought it up―it wouldn't be fair to compare the current you with the you before the incident.
You two were back to living in his apartment after you were discharged. Your voice had come back, although sometimes you still experienced trouble in speaking. But despite it all, Megumi didn't really care, he was ready to weather it all with you.
His sense of guilt intensified whenever he caught you touching your throat. Thoughts like "I should've been there." or "I should have never let her so unprotected" popped up in his head more often than he would have liked.
Both of you had gone back to the way it was supposed to be. Neither of you should have any prolonged worries... After all, Zen'in fiasco, from the unethical mass massacre and Naoya's doing afterwards, had been sorted out by Gojo― both of you were essentially free of them now.
So... why do you still look like you are on edge?
"I'll make breakfast today," he said on one morning after waking up. "Stay on the bed longer. I'll call you when it's ready."
You still looked positively sleepy as you pulled up the covers to your face and it warmed his heart. You were adorable, yawning and mumbling, "Thank you, Megumi."
He openly smiled, and went to the kitchen. A simple breakfast of beef and bacon would do, he concluded, and that was what he did. Afterwards, he did call and lead you to have breakfast with him.
You were still rubbing sleep off your eyes when he said it―
"Look, it's done―"
Suddenly you stiffened. Perhaps you were hypersensitive because it was still morning, but the way he said it reminded you of his words from that day.
“It’s done. We’re done. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
You tried not to let it show, as you sat in front of him. You really did, because Megumi seemed particularly happy this morning, you couldn't bear to burst his bubble.
"I personally prefer scrambled eggs over sunny side up, so that's what I made," he explained, motioning towards the plate with two servings of scrambled eggs with hints of a grimace. "Are you okay with it? Do you want me to make something else for you?"
"Ah, no, no... it's fine," you replied almost instantly, forcing a smile. "Thank you."
His lips curved into a gentle smile as he said, "You're welcome. Let me get that for you."
And that was when it happened. His hand brushed against yours―and in response, you retracted your hand away too quickly as if scalded.
Megumi was stunned. "Sena...?"
He looked at you, and noticed the faint tremor that passed through your body. In that moment, everything around him crashed once again.
Why?
"Are you..." he was almost in disbelief saying it. "...afraid of me?"
"Megumi― sorry," you blurted out, not looking at him. "I―I don't feel too well. I'll have breakfast later... I'll go lie down for a bit."
Before Megumi could respond, you had already risen and exited the dining room. Adding to the weight on his already heavy heart, you didn't head to your shared bedroom but instead, to your old bedroom from before you moved in with him.
Suddenly he felt hollow. Memories of the past months flooded into his mind like a fast-paced train wreck.
Leaving you. No contact at all. Finding you in that pool of blood.
Everything that happened then, both of you couldn't possibly pretend that any of them didn't exist. At least, not anymore.
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It has been awkward few days ever since then.
This gnawing feeling inside you― the ache, it's still there. The guilt. The nightmare. It's still there. You just want all of them to disappear.
You love Megumi and you want nothing more than being with him. But at the same time, you don't want to be with him― not like this.
They said let bygones be bygones, but it was impossible for you to pretend you were content and everything was fine while you were haunted by the nightmares of the day you made that deal with Gojo and Megumi leaving you with nothing to say for yourself.
To be happy, you need a clean slate. Or at least a time for yourself to think it over.
And so you reflected hard on yourself. What you wanted for yourself, what you thought was best for both of you.
You felt bad for Megumi too. He was visibly shaken ever since that day, and yet you were only there, feeling numb and at a loss for words, only able to mutter nothing more than apologies.
In the end, it boils down to this. You couldn't run from it any longer. Even though it'd most definitely bring both of you pain and sadness, you very well know that if you survived this, then...
"Megumi, I'm sorry for... the other day."
A week later, on that particular evening, he had just returned from headquarters and you met him at the living room.
Megumi looked startled, before flashing you a warm smile. "Ah, that again? Don't worry, Sena. It's fine." Glancing at the clock, he turned back to you. "Oh, have you eaten yet? I bought takeout on the way home."
His smile looked off. You tried to push the uncomfortable feeling in your chest away.
You steeled yourself and looked at him right in the eyes. "Megumi, I... I want to talk to you. Can you... sit here with me?"
It was hard to pull this on him. Really, really hard. But you swallowed the weight and bit down your lip when he took a seat in front of you.
"What is it?" he inquired with concern. "Don't be that tense... you can talk to me about it, alright?"
So be it then.
"I... think we should consider having a divorce."
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Megumi never imagined he would find himself confronted with this very question a second time.
His first reaction was a blink. Then his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. And then a frown, before he exhaled sharply―
"Why?" his voice came out way harsher than he intended. For the life of him, he didn't understand why. He felt hurt. So hurt, in fact, you had no idea. "What is it that you're feeling this time? Why did you never tell me before this?"
"I―" Your voice faltered, caught off guard, yet your sincere eyes remained steady. "I'll tell you now."
Megumi could see how strained you were. You were clearly trying hard to keep yourself together. He wanted to hug you, but not before you explained yourself.
"Megumi, first of all... I want you to know that I love you." Your voice began to tremble. "I love you... and I'm sorry for using you and taking advantage of your feelings. And I'm happy being with you... That hasn't changed."
"I know it already." He clenched his fists tightly, wiling the pounding of his heart at bay. "Then why―"
"I feel like we've been avoiding this, I don't know―I'm sorry. In the end, it's more of a me thing―it's not your fault at all."
Megumi closed his eyes, suddenly he felt overwhelmed by it all.
"This guilt I've been carrying with me... and you..." you took a sharp intake of breath. "Maybe something is wrong with me― I kept telling myself that now you're with me and everything will be okay... I tried to convince myself, but then I can't forget the way you look on that day―"
"If it's that, then I'm sorry―"
"No," you quickly interjected. "You had every right to be angry. I don't blame you for that, Megumi. I'm not upset, not anymore... the problem is... it doesn't make it any less hurt."
Those words suddenly seemed to ring in his ears.
A sob broke finally through your lips. "And s-so long as I'm still not over all of this... then I-I don't think I... ―we... can be truly happy together."
God, why must your fate be this complicated?
Your unholy matrimony was not expected but falling in love was a blessing, and still, you ended up hurting each other. If you still feel hurt, then the same also goes for him―he too still carries the guilt for letting you face Naoya alone, regardless of how the circumstances justified his actions.
Megumi gritted his teeth in frustration. "And so, you suggest that we're better off having a divorce?"
You cried a little harder, unable to give him an answer.
“Can’t I do anything to make it better for you?” Megumi felt like a knife just lodged itself in his chest as he looked at your tear-streaked face. “I’ll do anything—everything you want me to do, just not this—Sena, please—”
“I… w-want to be happy, Megumi,” you managed to say amidst tears. “As much as I love you… I also want to love myself too… just the w-way my mother wanted me to.”
His heart was crushed, hearing you.
“I want us… to m-meet again in better circumstances,” you forced out the words. “With no one to force us or make us choose anything… a day w-when… we can freely choose each other…”
“I’ll always choose you.” Megumi’s voice wavered as he held back his own tears. “You don’t need to wait for that because I always will.”
A tearful smile formed in your lips in response. “Thank you, but I just… want more t-time… for myself, Megumi. To sort my life—my f-feelings... and everything else out.”
He let out a grunt, as the first of his tears slid down his cheek, before he squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with his hand. Pain throbbed in his head and chest. It was too much.
“Do you…” is this it? is this how it ends? “Can you… at least tell me… what you’re going to do from now on?”
Before, when he asked you this, you had no answer for yourself. But this time, you didn’t flinch.
“I want to go back to Kyoto,” you immediately replied. “I… want to start anew there. And honestly… I don't want to continue doing jujutsu any longer so... I think I’ll start a new business to get by.”
A new start. Leaving jujutsu sorcery behind. That life honestly sounds so nice to Megumi’s ears too he was tempted to follow your footsteps.
“That’s good.” His voice was thick and heavy, and you were on the verge of sobbing once again. “That’s… really neat..."
He didn't want this. He couldn't bear to let you go. He was desperate to find a way to make you stay with him.
"Is this... really, truly what you want, Sena?"
You sniffled. "...Yes."
It seemed as though the knife in his chest had been twisted and made his insides bleed. He still couldn't make sense of it. His vision kept blurring with tears.
But ultimately... you have to be happy. After all of shitshows in this screwed up life you two share... you deserve to be happy the most.
It was difficult for him, it pierced through the most tender part within him to utter these words—
"Then... let's do it. If it's want you want and you're sure of it... then I'm willing to let you go." Lies. All of them. "Just… —please just be well. Don’t get sick, don’t stay up too late, and don’t push yourself too hard—”
Your sniffles turned into sobs.
“And— know that…” Megumi willed himself so that he wouldn’t break down in front of you completely, taking a deep breath. “I want only the best for you. I love you— that’s why.”
You were sobbing again then, utterly heartbroken. You felt really bad, and yet you knew this was necessary.
As your parting words, you just wanted him to know—
"Megumi... f-for everything these past eight months… thank you," you managed to say, your voice choked with tears. "I’ve been happy with you… and I... I don’t regret meeting you even for a moment."
The knowledge that you did feel that way was like a consolation for him. Megumi was thankful too that he had met you.
. . .
. . .
. . .
And just like that, in that winter, your divorce was finalized, and you moved to Kyoto.
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Six months later
The idea of a fresh start seemed appealing. Living in Tokyo had become suffocating. She reckoned it was finally time to move forward and put everything to rest.
“Oh, Hana-chan! Where are you going?”
Kurusu Hana put her duffel bag on the floor, looking back to find an elderly woman—her neighbor in this apartment building, as she locked the door to her unit one last time.
“Ah, granny,” she greeted with a friendly smile. “You aren’t usually awake this early.”
“Nevermind that— are you moving out, Hana-chan?”
“Oh yeah… Granny, haven’t you heard? The landlady is about to double the pay rent. It’s too much for this shabby place. I don’t want to live here anymore.”
“Really?! That conniving woman… I’ll talk to my husband and find another place soon too!”
“Hehe, please do.”
“Best of luck for you, Hana-chan.” The granny said. “I’ll miss having hotpots with you... You have been a really bright presence here.”
Something inside Hana lurched at her kind words. “Ah… me too, granny. Please take care of yourself too…”
Someone would miss her even when she was gone. This notion, simple as it was, once seemed impossible to Hana. Living all alone by herself all her life, she had grown accustomed to such thoughts.
And in her first time falling in love too… the man in question didn’t even return her feelings back.
But as they said… life goes on. Even when Megumi never looked at her way, then it just meant that they were never meant to be. She couldn’t wallow in this ridiculous one-sided love forever.
“Yosh! Hana, it’s okay! It’s going to be fine!”
As she stepped outside, she realized that summer was here already. And with that she was even convinced— with the new season came a new beginning, and this time, she was determined to find her own happiness.
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“Ahh! It’s hot!”
Yuji stretched his arms in the air, scrunching up his face as he had a look around him. “Kugisaki, do you have any idea where we’re going next? Seriously, I can’t with all this temples.”
Nobara threw him a dirty look. “You are so useless. The very least you can do is look at the maps.”
“Well, it’s too hot here! And these view of temples and shrines are giving me goosebumps—”
“Hey! What you said counts as blasphemy you know! Kyoto is cultural heritage!”
Yuji then looked around. “Come to think about it… Where’s Fushiguro? Wasn’t he with us after checking in the hotel just now?”
“Ah, he said he wanted to go out a bit before we go to the exorcism site… He didn’t say where though.”
“Wha? Wait, we can’t go without him!”
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[Nov 21] Megumi: Sena, have you arrived safely? I hope you’re not having a rough time. If you do, you can tell me
[Nov 23] You: hi megumi! sorry for not replying—i’ve been so busy with moving in here, it’s been hectic. and yes, i’m good here! :)
[Nov 24] Megumi: That’s good then. Well, take care
[Dec 10] Megumi: I’ve heard there’s an earthquake in Kyoto. Are you alright?
[Dec 10] Megumi: If you see this… Please answer me. I’m worried
[Dec 10] You got 8 missed calls from Megumi
[Dec 10] Megumi: Are you hurt? I’m trying to find a bullet train ticket to Kyoto but none are available
[Dec 13] You: gosh i’m so sorry for answering now! it’s been chaotic. internet and electricity are affected by the damage :(
[Dec 13] You: but no worries! you don’t have to come here, megumi! i’m fine! i evacuated safely and my building is still standing!
[Dec 13] Megumi: That’s a relief… Do you need anything? I can get you some things. Bullet trains to Kyoto will run again tomorrow, I can go there
[Dec 13] You: no no! really, thanks, i’m totally okay! most of buildings here are earthquake-resistant so don’t worry!
[Dec 13] You: still, thank you for worrying about me, i really… really appreciate it
[Mar 15] Megumi: It's been a while. Have you been well?
[Mar 16] You: hiii megumi! haha, you don’t have to be that formal, really. it’s been good here. cherry blossoms have bloomed, they’re so pretty!
[Mar 16] You: what about you? are you busy these days?
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You had left everything behind in Tokyo—your life as jujutsu sorcerer, tears, nightmares, and sadness, or as much of it as you possibly could, at the very least.
Starting over was hard. You almost regretted it several times especially when the lonely nights were too much for you, or when earthquake shook Kyoto and left you reeling.
But at the same time, it brought you satisfaction. When you successfully opened your own small cafe just last week, it felt like all your efforts had finally paid off.
It felt good to stand on your own two feet. To do things you want. With no one to dictate what you should do. By all means, this is the dream life you've wanted... you just wished that your mother could’ve seen this too.
Spending time for yourself has been healing. And life is far better here, but still...
You miss Megumi. How could you not, especially when he occasionally sent you a text? You were touched that he was still trying to stay in touch at all, and also how he showed his concern for your well-being.
But it was now May... and he hadn't replied to your text since March.
You tried to brush it off. After all you got the divorce for this very reason. You wanted to regain your sense of normalcy again— "normal" as in before everything went down with Zen'in mess.
But perhaps someday, when you're ready, if he would still have you... then maybe...
Brushing off your thoughts and maybe, longing, you left your phone to attend new patrons when the bell to your cafe jingled.
Unbeknownst to you, after unconsciously waiting for him this long, your phone buzzed and its screen lit up with new notifications—
[May 3] Megumi: Today, I'm in Kyoto
[May 3] Megumi: I miss you, Sena. I really do
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✩°。 ⋆ next -> last chapter : to the one i love
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i'm so sorry for repeated mentions, it's not showing in the tags and i'm trying to fix it :(
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redrose10 · 3 months
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Here is chapter 1! I hope you like it. Chapter 2 will come out in a few days. Comments are appreciated!
Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU
Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.
Word Count: 1,693
Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing
The weather outside did not match the feeling in the conference room. Outside the window you saw the bright sunny sky, not a cloud in sight. You longed for the warmth to touch your skin. Inside this room you felt cold. The walls were a dark cherry mahogany. A marble sculpture of a horse sat in the corner. You’re sure it cost more than a years worth salary for you. You chewed on your lip, a nervous habit you developed at some point. Everyone was patiently waiting for the same person to arrive so you could finally get this over with. Never would you have imagined you’d be in a position like this. Being married off to a man you’d never met. You knew of him of course. Who didn’t? Min Yoongi was the CEO of one of the largest tech companies in the world. He was the sole heir to a large fortune being that the Min family was one of the most powerful and wealthiest families in all of Asia. He was dangerously handsome with an arrogant attitude. A womanizer who was constantly in the media and not in a positive way. Just a few months ago we was caught on camera being tossed out of a club for punching the bartender. The video showed him staggering around so drunk he could barely stand straight. He shouted some choice words before shoving three random women into the back of his Rolls Royce and having the driver speed off. Of course the poor bartender didn’t even file any charges knowing he’d never win against the Min family power and money.
Shareholders started worrying about Yoongi’s ability to lead the company, some even demanding he step down. People were uncertain if they should invest in a company run by a sloppy drunk with clear emotional baggage. Stocks in Min Enterprises began to plummet which meant the Min family money started to dwindle and only then did they decide it was time to step in. Which is how you ended up here, sitting across from Yoongi’s parents and some of the other higher ranking officials at Min Enterprises. They had come to the conclusion that it was time for Yoongi to settle down. He needed to find a nice wholesome woman who could help him clean up his image, turn his life around, maybe have a future heir and turn himself into a well respected family man. The problem with that was that Yoongi had never lasted more than a couple weeks with any woman since he was about 19. Often going for quick hookups with women he met at clubs or random models he got ahold of that just wanted to use his name to further their career. In his mind it was easier. No strings attached. No chance of falling in love. No heartbreak. Just sex and send them on their way.
You were a simple girl. You didn’t come from money or power. You loved flowers, blue hydrangeas were your favorite. You often enjoyed a mug of warm milk before bed or maybe some chamomile tea if you were feeling adventurous. Most of your clothes were thrifted and definitely not name brands. You’d only ever had one serious boyfriend and less than four flings. You were the exact opposite of Yoongi and the women you often saw him photographed with.
Which is exactly why the Min family thought you were the perfect match to save their wayward son and bring a good reputation back to the Min name. You had no one else to thank but your old college roommate and best friend Jimin. After graduation he moved away but you kept in touch with each other. One day you get a voicemail from your friend asking you to come visit him in Korea. After calling him back and him assuring you the trip was all expenses paid by himself you agreed. Little did you know of the secret motive. Jimin had moved to Seoul after graduation, quickly getting a job at Min Enterprises. He started as just an assistant to Yoongi’s assistant. Over time Jimin was able to work his way up and was now a member of the board of directors and one of Yoongi’s best friends. When Jimin heard of the Min family plan he immediately thought of you and threw your name into the contenders ring as a potential suitor for Yoongi. You had recently complained about wanting to get out of your small town and Jimin recalled several instances where you mentioned your ever failing love life and non existent bank account so what better way to get around that than to marry a handsome young billionaire.
Your thoughts were interrupted when someone cleared their throat. Looking up you were greeted by the handsome face of Kim Seokjin, one of the Min family lawyers. “Can we be expecting Yoongi any time today?”, he asked probably more sarcastically than he had planned. As the elder Mr. Min started reaching for his phone the large double doors swung open and swiftly slammed shut as the man you were all waiting for stomped over and took his seat next to you, clearly agitated at having to be there.
You knew that Yoongi was handsome, most of the world knew that, but seeing him in person was different than any photos you’d ever seen. Soft perfect skin, piercing cat like eyes, silky jet black hair that he had started to let grow out. He was wearing a fitted dark green suit that probably cost more than every piece of clothing you owned. His cologne intoxicating, a mix of cinnamon and vanilla. He smelled like comfort and warmth.
When he realized you were staring at him he looked over at you turning to a face of disgust before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the lawyer, “Jin, can we get this over with? I have more important events to attend to.” You watched the lawyer lay out several sheets of paper in front of the two of you. “Right so these are the basics of the contract. It’s pretty standard. The Min family will release an official statement announcing the marriage of their only son Yoongi and Miss Y/N. The wedding will take place shortly after.” You watched as Jin turned to you placing an additional paper down in front of you and pointing to the stipulations as he read them off, “Y/N you will take the Min last name. You will move into Yoongi’s penthouse. You will agree to attend all social and/or professional functions with Yoongi and occasionally you will have to go alone as the Min representative. You will be given a credit card to make any and all purchases for any thing you need or want. And lastly you will uphold a satisfactory image as to not taint the Min image. Also please be aware that a divorce is not an option and the contract will only become nullified in the event that either Yoongi or Y/N were to pass away leaving the other as a widow.” You nodded in understanding while staring down at the list of demands in front of you. Things could be worse you thought but this still wasn’t ideal, especially not having the option for a divorce.
Jin turned his attention over to Yoongi placing a similar paper down in front of him and going over his stipulations which were much simpler than yours, basically don’t get caught with other women and don’t get drunk in public. You scoffed knowing that he would struggle to uphold his end of the contract. You were blindsided though when Jin read off the final stipulation, “After the wedding Yoongi will make an initial donation in his and Y/N’s name in the amount of $5 million US dollars to ‘Little Rays of Sunshine Orphanage’ in Y/N’s hometown. Then he will make an additional $1 million donation every year thereafter for the duration of the marriage.” Your lips turned up into a small smile. You had jokingly told Jimin that you’d agree to this whole ordeal if Yoongi donated a large amount of money to the orphanage that you grew up in. You didn’t think he’d actually get it done but you were a little relieved knowing that at least going through with this was going to benefit many children in need. You made a mental note to thank Jimin later. Deep in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed how Yoongi had looked over at you with furrowed brows questioning that request.
Jin placed a pen down in front of you before clapping his hands together, “Alright now that that’s out of the way the two of you just need to sign and date here and here and we can all go on with our day.” Trying your best to hide your shaking hand you gently grasped the ivory pen taking a deep breath before signing away your life to this man you met less than 15 minutes ago. Handing the pen over to Yoongi he glared at you before releasing a loud sigh and roughly taking the pen from your grasp signing away his name. Once it was done Mrs. Min began to speak but was cutoff by Yoongi loudly pushing his chair back and slamming the pen down on the glass table, “I have places to be.” And with that he stormed out of the room loudly slamming the door behind him. Mr. And Mrs. Min along with the rest of the elders followed not long after giving you a nod goodbye. You looked up to Jin who gave you an apologetic smile. He patted your hand as he continued to pack up his belongings, “He’ll come around Y/N. Just give it some time. He puts on a tough act but underneath that harsh exterior is really a sweet kid who got lost along the way.” Going into this you thought maybe this could actually work out and the two of you could at the very least pretend to love each other. Now, after meeting for the first time, you’re not so sure.
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Love you, love you, love you...
Summary: You go into your arranged marriage already distrusting your husband and all other men, and despite him repeatedly attempting to gain your favor, you are resolved to rebuke him at every turn. Will you manage to keep up the walls you’ve built to protect yourself, or will prince Beomgyu succeed in getting through your defenses?
Word Count: 11k
General warnings: oc is basically a misandrist, she will not hear gyu out, her calling him a pinhead, gyu using the word rape (no one actually gets raped), oc being a bitch about their first time and making fun of gyu’s hesitance, oc is emotionally stunted, inaccurate description of first times, beomgyu and others calling him a sissy, arranged marriages. 
Smut warnings: sub!gyu, dom!reader, riding, cunnilingus, masturabtion under guidance, edging, premature ejaculation, breeding kink, playing with nipples. 
 
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“We don’t have to do this.” 
You stand in front of your newly-wedded husband, livid. 
“You think I’m too fragile to consummate my marriage?” 
“No, I–” He attempts to explain himself but you cut him off. “Just because I was forced into this marriage doesn’t mean I can’t fulfill my duties.” You growl, offended by how weak he must think you are. 
“I was just saying that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He stammers, trying to recover from his unintended offense, and you snort derisively. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” 
He gulps and shakes his head. “I know you didn’t want to get married to me but I can do right by you. I will never–”
You roll your eyes, drowning out his yapping. This is your least favorite breed of men–the ones who pretend they’re not like the others. Had you been less jaded, you might’ve fallen for it, but when your own father sold you out to the highest bidder, you’d be forgiven for your lack of faith in men. 
“Shut up and take off my dress.” You cut him off. 
“You really–” He tries again and you snap, all patience gone. “Fucking do it, you sissy.” 
His jaw smacks shut and he levels you with a glare. There it is, that male aggression you’re so familiar with. He storms over to you and clumsily undoes the intricate lacing on your wedding dress, struggling with them for some time until he finally, finally pushes the dress off and it falls to the ground at your feet. 
But no further movement comes from him and you turn around to see him sheepishly looking at the floor, avoiding glancing at your bare body. 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You grunt, reaching out to take his own clothing off. He lets you do it without a fight, the only protest being his flaming red cheeks. 
You let out a laugh when you pull his pants to the floor and are greeted by the sight of his hard cock that smacks against his naked belly. “All this protest, trying to act virtuous, when you’re just as horny as the rest of the pigs.” 
That gets him angry. Good, at least it’s not fake righteousness. “I am not a pi–ah!” 
Whatever his rant was going to be is quickly cut off when you grab his cock and pump it in your hand. “You can pretend all you want but your body says it all.” 
“What? So I’m a pig for being attracted to my wife?” He manages to grit out, calling you out for your judgment of him, but you’re not interested in having this conversation right now. 
“Shut up.” You throw back lamely, getting onto the bed and spreading your legs out. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” 
But he remains rooted to his spot, scowl full-fledged on his handsome face now. “I don’t want to feel like I’m raping my own wife.” 
“Either way I have no choice.” 
“Then I’ll make the choice for us. I can sleep in a different room.” He announces, bending down to pick up his discarded clothes and you panic. Yes, you didn’t want to get married to him in the first place, but the rumors that will spread about you if people find out that your husband fled your marital bed on your wedding night,–you shudder to think of it. It’s one thing to be viewed as a pariah among your peers, but it’s another thing entirely to fuel their outlandish claims. 
“I want this!” You exclaim frantically, blushing as he gives you an incredulous look. “I want you to fuck me.” 
His will seems to weaken for a second, and he looks like he’s about to give in, but then the doubt sets in again. “You don’t really–”
At your wit’s end, you reach out to grab his arm and tug him towards you, causing him to basically stumble on top of you on the bed. 
“I’m–I’m so sorry–” He quickly apologizes even though it was clearly your fault, and he props himself up on his elbows so he’s not pressed against you. Though he curiously doesn’t stand back up, and there is one particular part of him you can feel pressed against your belly, still hard. 
“I want you to fuck me, Beomgyu.” You repeat firmly, and maybe it’s the close proximity or the feel of your skin against his hot dick, but he finally gives in. “Okay.” 
He wedges a hand between your bodies. You can’t see what he’s doing but you know he had grabbed his cock because a moment later you feel it pressed against your pussy. Harshly, you will down a shiver that tries to slither its way up your spine at the touch. 
But the strange sense of excitement is short-lived, lost in the clumsiness of the man above you trying and failing to find your entrance. 
“I just–it’s hard to see–” He explains awkwardly, pulling back to get a better look. You can’t refrain from rolling your eyes at the pitiful scene, which only makes him more nervous. 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You groan after a while of watching him fumble around with his dick, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him. He stares at you, wide-eyed, as you grab his dick and line it up with your entrance before you start to sink down on him. 
Your outburst may have been more powerful if you didn’t then stop one-third of the way down because of the pain. “Oh.” 
Beomgyu notices your discomfort and reaches out to hold you up. “You okay?” 
“I’m fine.” You grit, forcing yourself to take more of him. 
“Wait–take it slow–” He wheezes out, even as he clearly fights to not get lost in the feeling of your hot cunt. 
“I can take it.” You tell yourself more than him, bracing yourself as you take the rest of him in. Once you’re perched on his hips, you give yourself a moment to get used to the painful stretch. Beomgyu on the other hand is in ecstasy, his breathing heavy and his fingers clenching around your plush thighs to keep himself in check. 
Seeing him so affected by you like this is what begins to lift the shock of the pain and allows you to feel a bit of pleasure as you will yourself to relax. He just lies there all pliant and still beneath you, not once using his grip on you to make you move despite you clearly feeling his hips twitch with the attempt to hold back from thrusting up into your heat. 
“Are you a virgin?” You ask, intrigued by his reactions, and his affirmative response is a given. “Yeah…” 
If any other man had claimed virginity, especially a wealthy, privileged man like him, you would’ve called bullshit, but with him you one hundred percent believe it. 
Finally feeling like you’re ready to move, you start swiveling your hips over him, trying to stretch yourself out in preparation for more. “Is it everything you imagined it to be?” 
He shakes his head, and for a second you have to contend with the ugly feeling his rejection sparked in you. But then he continues, “It’s better.” 
You scoff. Liar. You’re barely even moving. Why is he bullshiting you? What does he stand to gain from that? Whatever, you’ll give him something to really make his head spin. 
Bracing your hands onto his tummy, you lift your hips up before letting yourself drop down. 
“Oh god.” The breath whooses out of him, and you’re surprised to find that the action actually sparks a tiny bit of pleasure in you too. So you do it again and again, moving up and down until you’re all out riding his cock. 
“That good?” You coax, trying not to think about why you even feel the need to have him affirm his enjoyment to you. 
“Too good.” He answers tightly, biting his lip. You feel his grip move from your thighs to your ass, getting more purposeful as he tries to control your movement. “Slow down.” 
Like hell you will when it just started getting good. You grab his hands and pin them down beside his head. "Keep those here, understand?" You hiss at him. You won’t let him try to control you
He whimpers, nodding, and something about his easy submissiveness makes your pussy clench. But that seems to spur him on again, and his hands shoot out to grab you once more. “Hold on!”  
You snatch his hands up and shove them onto the bed again, keeping them pinned down this time. "Shut up." He might be the man but he doesn’t get to tell you what to do. This isn’t for his enjoyment. This is purely for the purpose of fully consummating your marriage. You want this to be over as fast as possible. 
Except you didn’t expect it to be over this fast. 
“You don’t understand, I–I–” He flounders, and suddenly you feel something warm paint your insides and you stare incredulously at the panting man under you, clearly in the throes of orgasm. 
"Fuck, did you cum already?"
"I'm sorry. I asked you to slow down." He answers pathetically and you look down at him in disgust. Well, there goes any hope of you getting off tonight. Not that you expected it in the first place. 
"Whatever. This is better anyway." You go to hop off him but he reaches out and one of your arms. “Wait. I can make it up to you.” 
“How?” You ask skeptically.
"Let me make you cum."
Let’s see, do you want him to clumsily try to fuck you to orgasm for the next few minutes before he inevitably ejaculates prematurely once more? 
"No, I'm tired." You shoot him down, disinterested, but he doesn’t give up, grabbing onto you tighter and peering up at you earnestly. "Please, just give me a chance."
It’s clear that he won’t give this up. It’s probably gonna take longer to convince him to leave you alone than it will for him to try and fail to make you orgasm. So with a heavy sigh, you lie down on your back, closing your eyes and willing yourself away from this moment.  "Fine. You have one chance." 
But your eyes snap back open when you feel something wet against your pussy, and look down to see him with his head between your legs, licking you. 
Most men would never do this. They just feel entitled to getting their dicks sucked while acting like it's so gross to repay the favor. But here is Beomgyu eating you unreservedly after he just came inside you. Either he's really not as bad as the others or he's a fucking freak. Probably the latter. Definitely the latter, but that doesn’t mean you can't take advantage of it. 
Beomgyu clearly doesn't know what he's doing, clumsily licking at your pussy like it's a tart, but that's okay. You can guide him through it. That would end this sooner and you might actually get an orgasm out of it. 
"Flatten your tongue out and lick from the bottom to the top." You instruct and he eagerly obeys, licking from your entrance to your clit again and again, his eyes never leaving your face as he monitors your reaction.
“Yeah, just like that.” You encourage, starting to feel a twinge of pleasure at the pit of your stomach. “Now wiggle your tongue. Good… go back to licking.” 
You guide him, making him alternate between sharp quick movements and long languid licks along your whole slit. Every once in a while, he’d pull his tongue back in his mouth to wet it and his lips would pucker and he would suck on your sensitive pussy, making your whole body tremble. It doesn’t take him long to notice, and then he starts doing it on purpose, more frequently, sucking your lower lips or you clit into his mouth before letting them go and attacking them with sharp swipes of his tongue then licking up all the arousal his actions produce. 
You hate how quickly he picks it all up, reducing you to a shaking mess in no time. 
Nearing your end, you grab his hair and push his face against your pussy. “I’m close. Focus on the clit now.” 
He moans at that, the sound traveling straight through your pussy, and it's the push you need to cum, crying out and tugging sharply on his hair as your orgasm shakes through you. Beomgyu doesn’t mind the roughness. On the contrary, it motivates him to nuzzle further into your pussy, encouraged by your reaction and fishing for more, until you tug his hair in the opposite direction, moving him away from you. 
"Beomgyu, enough." You squeak at the overstimulation, and he whines in protest, trying to fight against your grip to dive back in but you close your legs, denying him. 
He whines again but settles on pressing wet kisses against your heated thighs, looking up at you like a pup who just finished playing and is now resting on his master's lap, and just as adorable. 
At that final disturbing thought, you push him off you and get up to grab something to slip on. Beomgyu doesn’t make any attempt to do the same, his eyes glued to your figure as you put a nightgown on. 
"Aren't you going to get dressed?" You ask, trying not to glance at his naked body that he doesn’t even try to cover. 
He shrugs. "It's too hot." 
"Well, I'd prefer if you put something on. I don't want to sleep in the same bed as a naked man." 
He looks at you like you’re being ridiculous. "We're married. We just fucked." He says slowly and you put your hands on your hips, not appreciating the way he's speaking to you like you’re stupid.
"Yeah, and now we're done. I don't want to see your floppy dick anymore." 
"It wasn't floppy." He frowns, upset at the way you're speaking about his precious dick. Typical man, the slightest suggestion that you wouldn't be grateful to see his dick hurts his pride. 
But he gets up nonetheless, quickly putting some pants on before rejoining you on the bed. He doesn’t wear a shirt and you don’t bother fighting him on this. You just turn your back to him and close your eyes, determined to go to sleep quickly and end this ridiculous night. 
But any thought of sleep is stolen from your tired brain when you feel arms wrapping around you. "What the hell are you doing?" You ask him incredulously and he stammers in response, clearly not expecting you to object to the action. "I–I just thought we could… cuddle." 
You can see the blush on his face even in the dim light. "No. No. There will be none of that. I’ve fulfilled my duty as a wife already so keep your hands to yourself." 
His face falls, hurt crashing across it, and you’re suddenly hit with the sickening realization of what's going on here. 
Beomgyu likes you. 
It should've been obvious. From the way he looks at you, to wanting to make sure you don't do anything you don't want to, to striving to please you too, and now to trying to hold you to sleep. 
Well, too bad. You don't owe him love. 
You turn your back on his dejected expression. Just because he ate you out doesn’t mean you’ll start playing at being in love. 
________________
But you learn that Beomgyu isn't so easily deterred, and he seems determined to chip away at your walls brick by brick. Though, you’re just as determined and as soon as he takes one away, you put ten in its place. 
“Darling.” 
You wince as you hear your husband’s voice call out. Damn it, he’s found you. 
He trots down to you like an excited puppy, entirely too happy to be seeing you. He can’t actually be this excited to be around you despite your constant rejection of him, can he? Why isn’t he out there with the rest of the men doing whatever the men do? 
“Oh, you’re playing chess? Can I play next?” 
“Sure. I’m done anyway.” You say, getting up and getting hit by the most puppy-like pout you’ve seen on a human. “But I thought we could play a game together.” 
“I’m tired. I want to lie down.” You lie, wanting to get away from him, but your treacherous friend chooses now to pipe up. “Oh, come one. Play a game with him. Or are you scared he’ll beat you?”
Damn her, she knows how to get to you. You know she’s doing this purely because she’s been sucked in by your husband’s guileless act and she’s been consistently trying to get you to give him a chance, telling you that maybe he really isn’t like other men. You should pick better friends. 
You huff and plop back down on your chair, your friend grinning widely as she gets up and lets Beomgyu take her spot. Whatever, you’ll beat his stupid ass and humiliate him so bad, he’ll show his true colors. Men never like to be bested by the women they look down on. 
But to your horror and utter dismay–after an embarrassingly short game where you flounder and fail to mount any meaningful attack against him–Beomgyu ends up beating. And he does it with a smile too, like it was so easy, like he was beating a child. 
“Checkmate.” He claps his hands happily. “I’m pretty good, huh?
You don’t reciprocate his excitement. Instead you level him with a cold look that projects all your shame and self-doubt into hatred and accusation towards him. "You think you're better than me?"
All semblance of joy is suddenly sucked out of him, his eyes widening in alarm. “No! I was just–”
“Let’s play again. I will beat you this time.” You pointedly assemble the pieces back on the board, slamming them into place, face set in a severe frown. 
“I just wanted us to have fun together doing something you enjoy. Maybe impress you…” He mumbles but it’s all background noise to you, already formulating a plan of attack in your mind. 
You win the next game, but you draw no satisfaction from it. How can you when your opponent clearly wouldn’t fight back? He misses obvious plays, leaves himself vulnerable to easy attacks, and his moves are devoid of the quit wit he displayed earlier. 
“Take this seriously, dammit.” You yell at him after you win once again because he just wouldn’t attack your pieces. 
Take me seriously. A voice pipes up from deep within your unconsciousness before you squash it back down. 
“Not everything is a competition.” He huffs glumly and you stare at him incredulously. “It is a competition, pinhead. That’s the definition of a game.” 
“Haven’t you heard of a friendly game?” He asks, a hint of sharpness you’re not used to from him tinging his voice. 
“We’re not friends.” You answer dumbly, and he scoffs softly. “Clearly.” 
He gets up and you gawk at him. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I’m done. God forbid I accidently make you actually have fun.” 
“Hey, I have fun!” You shout, getting up too, and he has the audacity to roll his eyes. “Yeah? When?” 
“All the fucking time.” You lie through your teeth, for some reason feeling like you need to prove yourself to him, like you need to best him at something, but he still doesn’t believe you. 
“Show me then. Let’s do something fun.” 
“Sure! Let’s go to–let’s check out the–let’s–let’s–” You stammer and he gives you a skeptical look. “Oh, fuck off. Like you have a blast every day.” 
“I do, actually.” He straightens up, happy with himself for some reason. 
“Oh yeah, then show me what you do that is so fun.”
_______________________
‘You deeply regret challenging him,’ you think as you watch the idiot that is now perched onto a tree branch, grabbing a rope that is dangling from higher up on the ancient tree. 
“You’re going to hurt yourself.” You yell, craning your head up to look at him. 
“Well, then at least you’ll be happy.” He comments off-handedly and you frown. You wouldn’t be happy if he hurt himself. Yes, you didn’t want to get married to him, but that doesn’t mean that you wish the idiot any actual harm. 
Before you can think whether to refute his words out loud, he clings onto the rope and takes off into the air, swinging over the lake under him before letting go and plummeting down into it with a big splash. 
“Oh my god!” You scream, frantically peering over the edge of the water, scanning the outpour of bubbles for signs of your dumb husband. 
After what felt like eternity, he resurfaces, whooping in excitement. “Whoah, that was awesome!” 
You give him a skeptical look, eyeing the water warily, when he pipes up again, “Try it. You’ll love it!”
“Yeah, no thanks.” You dismiss him quickly, having absolutely no desire to willingly follow him into the murky lake. 
“What’s wrong? Scared you might actually have fun?” He goads. 
Yes, you’re scared. Not of having fun, but of the ominous water. You’ve never been a big fan of swimming, not trusting your fate to the fickle gods that control those menacing depths. But you’d never tell him that. You’d rather die than admit to him you’re scared of an activity he performs so nonchalantly. 
So you steel yourself and head towards the tree he had jumped off earlier, taking off your dress to get it out of the way before climbing onto the thing. 
"Do you need help?" He calls out, swimming towards you. 
"No, thanks, I'm not a damsel in distress." You snark, grabbing onto the tree firmly and using the branches to pull yourself up. 
You can feel his eyes on you the whole way, no doubt waiting for you to fail and call for help, but he's got another thing coming if he thinks you’re a weak girl who needs a man's help to do anything physical. 
"Whoa, look at you go." His laughing voice wafts up to you and you can't tell if his surprise is good-natured or condescending. 
The climb is easy enough. You’re used to doing such physical activities, much to the chagrin of your parents who always urged you to act more ladylike and stop embarrassing them. 
'Well, fuck them, and fuck him,’ you think triumphantly as you reach the large branch he jumped off. But your triumph is short lived, promptly snuffed out by the sight of the cold abyss underneath you. 
He must've seen the dread on your face because he calls out once again. "Hey, you okay?" 
You shift your gaze from the water to his face, and the uncertain look on his face annoys the fuck out of you. You will not have him doubt you. You will not show weakness.
You grab onto the hanging rope, cringing at the slimy feel under your skin, but you power through your disgust and your fear, clinging onto the slippery thing as you swing forward. 
But can’t get yourself to let go, the dreary water swirling underneath you compelling you to cling tighter to the rope. 
"You gonna jump or what?" Beomgyu laughs and you almost don't hear him through the beating of your own heart in your ears. Still, you don't let go despite his provocation, your fingernails digging into your palms and your muscles burning as you continue to clutch onto the rope tightly. 
"Hey, don't worry. I'm right here." You hear his voice right under you, taking on a concerned tone as you clearly struggle. "Come on, let go."
You don't want to. You want to go back to shore but you're stuck, suspended in the air, the slimy substance on the rope making your fingers slip bit by bit. 
Fuck, you're gonna fall. You're gonna fall. You're gonna–
You scream as your grip finally falters and you plummet to the lake below. As you breach the surface, water rushes into your open lungs through your open mouth, suffocating you. You thrash around in panic, certain you're going to drown over a stupid dare.
You feel something grab onto you and you thrash harder, your panicked brain convincing you it’s the lake itself trying to bring you down to your demise at the cold, dark lakebed.
“Hey, hey, calm down.” You hear Beomgyu's muffled voice, followed by his face coming into view, his expression scared but trying to keep calm. "It's me. I got you."
I got you?
It takes a few more seconds for you to realize that the thing that had grabbed a hold of you earlier was not the lake but Beomgyu, and that instead of trying to pull you under, he's trying to keep your head above the water. 
As soon as you realize that, you wrap yourself around him, clinging onto him for dear life, shaking like a leaf in the wind. 
Beomgyu keeps one of his arms wrapped around your waist and moves the other one up and down your back soothingly. “I got you. You’re okay. Take deep breaths.” 
You do, following his lead, focusing on his breathing and mimicking the slowing rhythm until the both of you are sufficiently calm. 
"There you go." He smiles, no hint of judgment or mockery on his face. “You alright?” 
“I’m fucking cold.” Is all you can think to say, and he laughs, the sound warming you up. “Let’s get you out of here.” 
What? Where the hell did that come from? 
Beomgyu carries you on his back as he swims to the shore. It feels like forever but you eventually reach it, and as soon as you find your footing, you let go of him and scramble out of the water, throwing yourself to the ground. Eyes closed, you take in deep breaths, finally able to breathe properly once again. 
"Do you not know how to swim?" Beomgyu asks, and you hear him sit down next to you. 
"I know how to swim." You retort sharply, too sharply to a man who just saved your life. But you can’t help it, your pride is wounded after you embarrassed yourself like that in front of him. Besides, it was his fault all this happened anyway–him and his stupid wit and his stupid carelessness.
He is silent, but you know he clearly wants you to explain yourself. So begrudgingly, you add, "I just don't like it. The water freaks me out." 
"Then why did you–oh." That small little syllable stings at your already bruised pride. You wait for him to make fun of you but he doesn’t say anything further, mercifully choosing to spare any possible remnants of your ego. 
It’s quiet for a bit, and as you sit drying out, you feel something other than the sun burning your skin. You peek your eyes open to see him staring at you. He looks away when caught, blushing like a young boy caught staring at his crush instead of a man looking at his wife. He's ridiculous. 
"What?" You prompt irritably. 
"You're pretty." He murmurs bashfully and you scoff. "I know. That's why my father was able to sell me to a prince."
Beomgyu frowns, unhappy about you bringing this up again. Oh, did you ruin his little make-believe scene? "I didn't choose this either, you know?" 
"You sure don't seem all that torn up about it." You retort, unkind about his obvious liking towards you.
"Because I can see that even though neither of us chose this, I was blessed to end up with such a smart, strong, beautiful wife. But you clearly don't think the same of me." 
You don't think his response would elicit such a gnawing feeling of guilt inside you, but his self-pitiance coupled with his compliment of you makes you almost regret your attitude. But you refuse to give in to his guilt tripping. You don't owe him happiness. You're not going to bow down and be grateful because he deigns to like you. 
At your silence, he scoffs and gets up. You fully expect him to turn around and walk away, leaving you behind, but to your surprise he offers you a hand instead.
"Don't look so surprised. You may choose to be cruel to me but I will never treat you the same way."
The nerve of this man! God, he pisses you off so much. 
You push his hand away and pull yourself up on your own, getting dressed before stomping back towards the palace.
_______________________________
He keeps away from you after that. True to his words, he remains civil and courteous, but doesn't try to press for anything more… and you have to admit, you start to miss it. 
Not because you hold any affection for him–of course, not!--but because you're alone here with no family and so few friends. Beomgyu on the other hand is surrounded by people who are delighted to have his company, ensuring he is never wanting for company or affection. 
You on the other hand are woefully lonely, so much so that eventually you reach your breaking point, grabbing him one night while you're both getting ready for bed and kissing him. 
"What? Am I finally worthy of your affection?" Beomgyu derides when you break the kiss. You have no right to be upset at his abrasiveness when you're the one who caused it but you still are. Why can’t he just shut up and give you what you need? Why must he make you feel even more embarrassed about your need for him? Not that you’d ever admit either to him. 
"I'm in my fertile period. We need to make a baby." You cover your tracks, and he somehow still manages to be hurt by your response, as if he was actually expecting you to confess your undying love to him. "Wow, that is so sexy."
You roll your eyes and slip off your dress. "Is this sexy?"
He doesn’t even try to hide the way he ogles your body and you laugh, stripping him before pushing him onto the bed. "I thought so." 
_______________________
As punishment for forcing you to almost reveal your alarmingly developing need for him, you concoct a cruel plan designed to repay him tenfold. You set out to satisfy your need while simultaneously maximizing his own by restricting any sexual intercourse between the two of you to your fertile period of every month, and spending the intervening time alternating between depriving him of your touch and teasing him until he’s begging you to let him have you. 
He comes to memorize your schedule and, like a trained dog, starts getting restless close to the when you’d be fertile, staring at you like he's fucking you in his head, humping the bed in his sleep, sporting a semi-permenant hard on as the day draws closer. 
"Did I say you could slow down?"
You take to edging and denying him during your sex-free periods on the pretense that you want him to be full and ready to breed you when the time comes. It's bullshit of course and he knows it too, but he wants to have a family with you so much and wants to please you so badly that he lets you do whatever you want to him. 
"I'm close." He tries to excuse his disobedience but you have no patience for it. 
"You can hold it." You assert, knowing full well he's near his breaking point, but it's just so fun to watch him fight with his own body to try to please you, caught between continuing as you want and risking cumming and angering you or stopping and angering you by disobeying. 
"I can't." He shakes his head, despairing. 
"You can." You say more gently this time, going for a different tactic, though no less devious. "You want to knock me up don't you? Wanna see me get big and round with your baby?"
"Fuck, stop it." He whines, his hand barely moving over his cock but not daring to stop. 
"You're so pretty like this." You coo, knowing he's a sucker for your compliments. They're rare but he lives off of them.
"Oh." He gasps, speeding his pace on his cock, needing to hear more. You can see the muscles of his tummy tensing as he tries to hold back but his hips can't help but buck into his own hand. "Please. Just let me cum once. My balls are so full. I'll have so much for you still. It's been so long." 
God, you love making him do this. He'll do anything you ask of him. Maybe he's rotten like all men but at least his brand of sickness is fun to watch.  
"It hasn't been one week. Are you that addicted to sex? Did you fuck yourself every day before I came along?" 
He shakes his head, denying your accusations. "You keep teasing me, wearing those revealing clothes to bed. Touching me under the table. Whispering dirty things in my ear when we have company…" 
"You love it, you dirty pup. I know you do."
"I love it. Love you touching me, love you toying with me, love you…"
He doesn't finish that lost one. He doesn't get to–or maybe that was the end of the sentence-before he suddenly spills his seed. 
"Oh god. Oh god, I'm so sorry." He cries, just as surprised about his orgasm as you were. "I didn't mean to, I swear." 
"But you did." You tsk, intent on milking his "disobedience" to death and making him whimper and cry like a scolded dog. But the sheer panic in his reply throws you off. "I know. I'm sorry. I tried to–" His voice cuts up in a hiccuping cry. "I tried to–tell you–to stop–I couldn't–help–ittt."
You stare at him in shock. He has tears streaming down his face, shoulders going up and down with every gasping breath he takes, and his hands are hovering nervously in the air as if he wants to reach out to you but is scared of what your reaction would be. 
So you take it upon you to reach out to him instead, holding his hands in yours as you scooch towards him. "Hey, hey, it's okay."
"No, it's not." He shakes his head vigorously, tears flying off his pretty lashes. "I try so hard to be good for you and I can't even control myself. I know you’re mad."
"I'm not mad." You deny, but he just keeps shaking his head and mumbling sadly, "Didn’t mean to disappoint you."
"I'm not disappointed." You reassure him, more firmly this time. "It's just a game."
"You are–"
He obviously won't listen to your words so you go for a different route, cutting him off with a kiss that, thankfully, he easily melts into. 
The kiss is tender–every diminishing sob released against your lips unwillingly tugging on your heartstrings until you feel completely wretched for somehow making it so he reacted so strongly to something so stupid. It was never your intention to make him actually suffer. You merely wished to protect yourself. But how do you do that when your distance is what's making him so miserable?
You do not owe him your love but does that mean that he can't earn it?
"I'm not mad." You repeat when you end the kiss and he nods, eyes glued to your lips as he licks his own, his wish clear. But before he can ask for another kiss, you choose instead to let go of him to grab something to clean him up with. 
He never takes his eyes off you as you wipe his hands off and clean the cum off his body. And he still stares at you as you dispose of the rag and lay back down on the bed. 
"What?" You ask, sharper than you intended and he flinches. So you try again, gentler this time. "Do you need something?"
He stares down at his hands as he speaks, wringing his fingers nervously. "Will you hold me to sleep?"
Your following silence prompts him to finally look up at you, and the wet, vulnerable look in his big brown eyes physically prevents you from rebuffing his request. 
You sigh, throwing an arm out pointedly and he doesn't waste a second jumping forward and snuggling into your side. 
__________________
That small action--Beomgyu having you hold him to sleep instead of the other way around–makes you realize something that should've been obvious to you from the start… unlike other men, and despite your worst fears, Beomgyu isn't looking to control or lead you. 
He never did, from your sex life to what you do in your free time and even to public appearance, he lets you do as you please, only ever venturing to appeal to be included in it. You've even embarrassed him in public a couple of times before and yet he never lashed out against you in any way. 
Other people were decidedly less kind though. You know they're gossipping about you. How you're a shame to other ladies and he's a disgrace to his family and the prince title. It gets to a point where you can't help but inquire about it to him, perplexed by his seeming indifference to what anyone else had to say. 
"Does it not bother you?" 
"What does?" He peeks an eye open to look at you from where he is laid down on the grass next to you, another successful hijacking of your time. 
"What they say about you?" You spare him the details he knows all too well–that he's not a man, that he isn't fit to be a prince, that he's so weak and feeble even his wife rules him 
"It does, of course. Everyone seeks to be accepted by others-be it friends, family, society, a lover…" He trails off tenderly, and you ignore the longing look he gives you. "But I have a loving family, supportive friends, and a secure life. I'd be a foolish man indeed to ignore all of that and spend my days trying to gain the approval of those who think ill of me." He says with a smile that suddenly and unexpectedly falls, "Why? Does it bother you? Me not being manly?"
"Would you change if it did?" You ask curiously and he frowns in thought before answering. "No, I want you to be happy with me, but I want to be happy too. I want us both to be happy." 
"Why do you want me to be happy so badly?" You ask genuinely. It might be a stupid question to ask your husband but the sad reality is most husbands don't care much for their wives happiness. 
"I believe a marriage should be built on respect and affection. Your spouse is meant to be your life partner, they’re there to witness it all, your everyday life, your ups and down, the mundane and the exciting. Why not try to make the best of those years? Why not be each other's rock when the world tears you down?" He espouses thoughtfully, a wiseness you never expected from him coming through, making him look mature and worldly. But then an innocent bashfulness takes over his face and he returns back to the boyish prince you’ve come to know. "And… I've always had a crush on you."
"Me?" You ask, surprised. You’ve met the prince many times before. You were hardly strangers before your marriage, but you wouldn’t have considered yourselves friends and certainly didn’t suspect that he held any romantic sentiment towards you. But you suppose that explains his existing partiality towards you despite your less than sweet reaction to the marriage. 
"I have always loved how bold you were despite everyone trying to force you to fit the status quo. It gave me courage to be myself too. I thought if you could manage to act so decidedly outside of what is deemed proper for a lady and still remain the most radiant and exhilarating woman in the room, then maybe others could find beauty in me too." 
You gape at him, at a loss for words. He finds the parts of you that are so repulsive to everyone else attractive? Is he messing with you? Is this some cruel joke? Or is he actually telling the truth? 
You so badly want to believe him, but you can’t bring yourself to. It’s too good to be true. 
"Did you ever… think of me that way?" He asks timidly, not daring to look at you, fearing your response, and for once, you feel saddened that you’re unable to give him the answer he’s looking for. 
"No." You tell him honestly. You haven’t given him much thought before you got married. Sure, you could see that he was handsome, and he had always made himself known by his unusual behavior but other than that you hadn't really paid much attention to him, too caught up with your own troubles to pay any mind to his. You come to regret that now. At the very least, you might’ve made yourself a friend who would accept you for who you are. Or so he claims anyway. 
"What about now?" His follow-up question is even more timid, whispered so quietly you almost didn't hear it. And you wish you didn’t because you don't have any answer for it. 
"Let's not go there." You reply uncomfortably, getting up in order to physically remove yourself from the loaded question, refusing to consider that you might actually have developed any affection for him. 
But Beomgyu quickly sits up and holds onto your hand. "No, please, don't leave. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He begs dolefully, which doesn't help your uneasiness in the slightest bit. 
"It's fine." You lie to no one's benefit. "I just have things to do." You excuse yourself unconvincingly, taking your leave before he can fully articulate his next argument. 
You hate seeing him so down, but what can you do when he insists on breaching this delicate topic again and again? You have no answer for him, you really don't. Why must he keep prodding? 
____________________
"Is it time to go to bed yet?" Beomgyu whispers in your ear. He has been giving you needy looks the whole night, when he wasn't actively hanging onto your arm like he is right now. 
It's the first day of your fertile period, and like you always do, you love to stay out as long as possible just to torment your poor husband. And lucky you, tonight there was just the perfect excuse to stay out even later–a ball hosted by the royal family and inviting noble and rich families from all over the kingdom. 
"We're the hosts. It would be rude to leave this early." You tell him sharply as if you weren’t counting on him acting this very way, as if you’re not immensely enjoying it.
"But it's been hours." He whines and you feel him grind not-so-subtly against you. 
"Are you seriously humping me in the open like this?" You ask incredulously, "Can't you control yourself?"
He shakes his head. "You know I can't." He tells you helplessly and you smile. Yes, you know very well. "I need it."
You chuckle. "Oh, you need it? What if I don't give it to you?" 
He wails at the idea and a few heads turn towards you. 
"Don't worry. He just hit his toe against the chair." You wave the curious and concerned glances off before turning towards Beomgyu with a sharp look. "Now look what you've done. Do you want everyone to know what a needy whore you are, my dear?"
"I don't care. Just need you." Throughout it all he hasn't quit pressing his bulge against your hip. 
"That's too bad because we're staying for some time still. Now run off and talk to your father's guests and stop being such a rude host."
"But–"
You disentangle yourself from him despite his protests. "Go or you won't be getting fucked tonight." You threaten against his ear before pressing a quick kiss to the skin below, causing goosebumps to erupt in your wake. 
You walk off with a big, self satisfied smile, your excitement building as you imagine how desperate he'll be once you actually take him back to bed. You wonder if you can get him to cum untouched. He has very sensitive nipples and you've always wondered if you can actually make him cum just by playing with them. You’re sure you can. Maybe tonight you'll try. 
You’re so focused on what you have in store for your poor husband that you don't notice the two people approaching you. 
"Oh darling, look how happy you look." You hear your mother's voice next to you and your mood immediately sours. You turn towards the pair with a scowl. "Hello, mother. Hello father."
"Hello, dear. How is my precious flower doing?" Your father asks, leaning forward to give you a kiss on each cheek that you don't reciprocate. 
"Deflowered." You deadpan. 
"Oh, come off it, baby. You know your father chose Prince Beomgyu because he was sure he would cherish you. That boy positively adores you." Your mother chastises, and you frown. Did your family seriously know of Beomgyu’s feelings towards you before you did? "And from what I'm hearing, he's doing just that. I mean even today, he can hardly leave your side for a minute." 
You snort. If only she knew what was really going on... But to be fair, they weren't entirely wrong. Beomgyu does cherish you. That doesn't mean that you'll let them feel good about what they did. 
"Your mother is right, love." Your father says gently but firmly, "We just wanted to ensure a good life for you with a man who adores you as much as we do. You are our only child and if you hadn’t gotten married, you would have been the object of many a wicked man's greed." 
You roll your eyes at them. You could’ve handled yourself just fine. Not that they ever believed in you. "Whatever." 
Are you being immature? Yes, but you’re still bitter about them not giving you a choice in the matter or even the man you were to marry, even if their choice turned out to be decent. 
"Excuse me. I have to go find me dear husband." You give them a sour smile and turn you back on them. Their worried murmurs fade into the background noise as you step away from them and search for Beomgyu in the crowd, determined to go back to your room now. 
When you spot him though, your mood takes an even more severe plunge. He's not alone, and the way he's entertaining the guest is way more intimate than you had instructed. The woman next to him is standing way too close to be proper, and she has one of her hands on his shoulder and the other one trailing down his chest. 
Of course. Typical man behavior, as soon as you're out of sight he's wrapped up in some other woman’s arms. And here you thought he actually cared. 
A dull pang starts out from the middle of your chest before it quickly spreads all across your ribcage in sharp stabs that take your breath away– a testament to the hurt you're feeling at this betrayal. He really got you fooled, huh?
You were contemplating whether to march off and slap the both of them silly or go back to your room, locking him out and crying your eyes out, when you hear his panicked voice floating into your full ears. 
"I'm married!" He stammers, trying to wiggle out of the woman's hold on him but she just steps closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him.
A rage like no other fills up your body at the sight, searing off the wounds that were just covering it from the perceived betrayal, but you force yourself to stand still and watch how this will play out. 
"So? All princes take mistresses. I hear she's not even letting you fuck her. What a heartless bitch." 
That’s it! You make a move to step forward and smack her filthy hands off your husband, but he does it himself, throwing her hands off him angrily. 
"Don't you dare speak about her that way." He shouts, furious in a way you've never seen him before. "She is my wife and I love her. She satisfies me much better than you could ever hope to do. I want no one else but her so kindly fuck off before you embarass yourself any further." 
You freeze. Beomgyu loves you?
Yes, you knew he liked you and he was never shy about expressing it, but love? 
It's at this moment, while you're rooted to your spot in shock, that Beomgyu finally sees you. A big smile replaces his affronted expression as he calls out to you. "Oh, darling there you are!"
But then he notices the look on your face and his own expression pales, his eyes jumping between you and the woman who is still standing next to him. "It's not what you think. I told her to back off, I swear."
Oh, he must think you're upset because of her. Well, you were but not at him. Not after he proved himself right in front of you. Still, this is a good distraction. It's better that he thinks that. You can't discuss the other thing now. You can’t even process it yet.
You quickly compose yourself and walk up to them, wrapping your arm around his waist and giving him a sweet kiss on his lips. "I saw." You smile at him before turning your withering gaze towards the woman. "You heard him. Fuck off and go find another man to lay under." 
The woman scoffs and walks off, shouldering you as she goes, but you don't care. You turn back to Beomgyu, and whisper cryptically to him. "I want to speak to you, dear. In private."
His eyes widened in fear. "Darling, I'm sorry–I really tried–"
"Let's go." You snap, pulling him after you into the garden. 
You choose a place deep enough into the garden you're sure no one will see you before you push him against a tree. 
"You just attract them, don't you?" You raise an eyebrow at him, pressing your thigh between his legs. "Standing out there looking all needy and pretty."
"I told her to go away." He cowers pitifully, but he’s already rutting his cock against your thigh. 
"But she just wouldn’t, huh?" You ask with mock sympathy, "You're just a helpless slut aren't you? Need me to be around you all the time to keep you in place?"
"No." He whines, shaking his head roughly. "I can behave. I can be good."
You spit on your hand and put it down his pants, stroking his cock and making him keen and melt into your touch. "Look how easily you give in." You tsk, "How long would you have held out if she did that?"
Beomgyu shakes his head again, tears brimming his pretty eyes. "Never would've given in. Only yours."
"Aw, how cute. This cock is only for me?" You murmur against his lips, palming the head of his cock and feeling his precum already leaking and wetting your hand. 
"Everything. I'm all yours." He confesses, his eyes conveying an affection so strong, you can't weather it. You take your hand out of his pants and flip the both of you around so you're the one pressed against the tree. "Fuck me." 
"Here?!" He gapes. 
"Yes. Want you here." 
"But anyone can see." He looks around as if searching for those phantom voyeurs. 
"Didn’t you say you’re all mine? Show them." You press your lips against his, coaxing him into giving in with sweet kisses that he craves. 
“Honey…” He whines, but you wrap one leg around his waist and pull him against you, his body reacting on its down and his hips bucking against you, his cock searching for your warmth that you’ve kept away from him for so long. 
You ignore his half-hearted protest, pulling his cock out of his pants and lifting the skirt of your dress up so he can feel you directly. His breath leaves him when he feels his cock glide against your wet pussy. “Oh… you’re not wearing anything underneath.”
“Uh-huh.” You nod, biting your lip and looking at him seductively. “Wanted to be all ready for you to take me. Didn’t know you’d be entertaining other women.” 
You’re really dragging out this other woman farce, partly because it’s fun watching him scramble to deny it and appease you, and partly because you feel entitled to him as your husband. You’re not going to be the woman forced to marry a man, only for him to cheat on her too. 
But still, you can’t deny the jealousy and hurt you felt seeing him with someone else after he’s spent the last few months professing his affection to you and forcing his way into your life. He said it’s only you he wants, right? Well, you want him to act like it, damned by the reasons behind your unwelcome feelings. 
Beomgyu’s eyes widen in horror and he finally presses forward, pushing his cock into you in one needy thrust. “No! Was only thinking about this pussy. I promise.” He wails in earnest, “Only want you.”
His words are like a balm to your wounded ego, and you reward him with a messy, open-mouthed kiss–the kind you know gets him all riled up. “Then fuck me like it.” 
“Yes, darling.” He holds up the leg you have wrapped around him with one hand and uses the other to grab your waist and press you flush against the tree, stabilizing you so he can drill his cock into you, an urgency to his movements that tops even your previous encounters. 
“Good boy.” You pant, feeling his cock hitting places deep inside you that have your toes curling. "Is this what you wanted all month?"
"Yes, baby. Been thinking of it every night, wished you would just flip over onto your tummy and let me fuck you." 
You grin evilly. “I know, baby. I felt that hard cock against me every night. Loved to wake up with it pressed right between my asscheeks.” 
“You’re so cruel.” He mewls, fucking into you desperately, making up for all the torture you put him through. 
“I know.” You laugh, trailing your hands up his body to play with his sensitive nipples, and when your thumbs brush over them, his hips stutter and he rewards you with the most debauched moans. 
“Fuck, don’t do that or I’ll cum.”
“But I want you to cum.” You retort, pulling lightly on his hardened nipples and causing his hips to give a particularly harsh thrust. "Cum inside me. Knock me up. Let them all know who you belong to."
Your words drive him crazy, and soon he’s fucking into you like a wild animal. "Fuck, you’re going so rough. Were you that needy?"
“Yes.” There is no shame in his reply, just pure want. He's not shy about letting his need for you show, his mouth wide open, panting heavily, and eyes glazed over as his hips slam against yours. "Thank you. Thank you for letting me inside your pretty pussy."
Just his face brings you close to the edge, and his wild thrusts threaten to push you over at any moment. 
"Look how slutty you look." You tease, cupping his face. "Are you all pussy-drunk, my dear?"
He nods, leaning into your touch and only managing a few garbled moans in response. 
"That's okay, pup. All I need from you is your pretty cock. You don't need to have any thoughts in that pretty head of yours. Just keep fucking me like a good boy." 
He nods again, enraptured, and his blind obedience finally sends you over the edge. 
“Fuck–fuck–good boy… good boy.” You moan out, the praise coming out long and slow as your body tenses up before spasming, your pussy milking his cock and drawing his own orgasm out of him. 
Beomgyu buries his face into your neck, letting out choked moans that later turn into heavy pants as his high crashes through his body. But even when his breathing settles down, he is reluctant to pull away from you. 
“Beomgyu?” You call out. He lets out a small hum and nuzzles further into your skin, mumbling something that you can’t quite hear.
“We need to go.” You start again, the leg he’s still holding up starting to cramp while the cool air bites at it, and he whines. “But this feels too nice.”
You smirk. “What does? Your cock all warm and snug inside my pussy?”
You feel his cock twitch inside you and he nods. “Yeah. Also this.” He says, running kisses up your neck that makes you shiver. “You never let me do this much.” 
You know. You only allow these intimate moments after sex, not wanting a repeat of what happened before, but also needing to limit them to protect yourself. Which is exactly why you want him to pull away now. 
“We have to go.” You repeat, jostling him a little bit, feeling your heart picking up at the precarious moment. You feel him sigh against your skin, and he finally pulls back. “Okay. Let's go to bed.” 
“Oh, we’re not going to bed. We’re rejoining the ball.” You say nonchalantly, holding back your laugh at the way he gapes at you once again. 
"But–but…." He stammers, his eyes raking over your body. 
"But your cum is dripping down my legs? I know." You smirk evilly, pulling him behind you. 
___________________
You and Beomgyu are stuck in a limbo of your own making, unable to let him in fully but also unwilling to shut the door in his face, stubbornly thinking that this way you’ll be saving yourself from any heartache. But can you really make that claim anymore when seeing him hurt himself over you wounds you just as much? 
That is the precise situation you find yourself in right now, running towards one of the rooms you’ve just been informed that Beomgyu and your previous suitor, Yeonjun, are dueling within. 
You expect this foolishness from Yeonjun. He has always been brash and hard-headed, always reaching for his sword when his words meet resistance. But Beomgyu? Has that idiot ever even been in a duel before? 
Your heart hammers in your chest as you run, images of Beomgyu struck down and bleeding coming unbidden to your mind. Fuck, if that idiot got himself hurt over some inane dick-measuring contest, you’re going to kill him yourself. 
When you gain entrance into the room and peek Beomgyu’s fallen form through the gaps in the crowd that formed around the two men, your heart falls to your feet and you get ready to grab Beomgyu’s sword and strike down Yeonjun yourself. 
But then you hear Yeonjun speak to him. “Come on, get up. Be a man.” 
After which a member of the crowd comments snarkily, “You’ve got the wrong person. If you want a fight then you need to look for his wife. She wears his balls around her neck.” 
You see red as you shove your way through the crowd and into the clearing in the middle. “Who said that?” You growl, surveying the crowd. No one speaks, and you laugh hauntingly. “Come on, show me how much of a man you really are. Surely, you’re not afraid of me, a woman?” 
Again, no one speaks up, and you scoff. “Of course, you are all a bunch of cowards who like to bully good people in order to feel better about your own vile, miserable selves.” 
“Hey, don’t speak to my men like that.” Yeonjun interjects and you shoot him a withering look. “What men? All I see are a bunch of dogs sniffing up their master’s ass.” 
At the insult, one of the men steps forward threateningly, but Yeonjun holds him back. 
“What? Are you going to hit a woman?” You challenge and he spits. “What woman? All I see is a rabid bitch.” 
No sooner had the man spoken than he was on the floor, felled by a punch from Yeonjun. “Don’t you dare speak to a lady like that.” 
The man looks furious but he holds his tongue, not daring to defy his master, choosing instead to get up and storm out. A few other men follow suit but Yeonjun ignores them, turning towards you, “I’m sorry about that, my lady. Please accept–”
“I will accept nothing. What gave you the right to come here and attack my husband?” You growl at him, walking towards Beomgyu and helping him off the floor. But Beomgyu doesn’t even glance at you, keeping his gaze on the floor and making you feel uneasy. 
“I wanted to see what you left me for.” He mutters bitterly, as if you had been together and you had left him to be with Beomgyu. He’s so fucking delusional. 
Yeonjun and you used to be childhood friends, and you suppose he assumed on the basis of that and by merit of him being the son of one of the most wealthy and influential men in the whole country, that you’d fawn at his feet and accept his hand when he proposed to you. 
But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. You liked Yeonjun well enough as children, but as you grew up he turned into a controlling asshole who tried to tell you what you can and cannot do, already acting as if you were his woman, something which you despised and have expressed so to him repeatedly. You don’t know how he could possibly have thought that you’d actually accept his hand in marriage but his scandalized reaction served to cement your decision even more. 
“I didn’t leave you for anyone. If you were the last man on earth, I still wouldn’t have picked you.” 
Yeonjun’s face grows pale at the harsh proclamation, but you don’t stay back to wait for his response, barking at one of the servants to help you take their prince back to his bed. 
______________________________________
But Beomgyu’s weird behavior persists even when you’re alone, and when you attempt to tend to his injuries, he withdraws from you harshly. 
"Why are you doing this? Am I so pathetic that even you feel sorry for me?" He hisses in disgust. 
"What has gotten into you?" You snap back, not willing to take shit from him too. 
"You want someone like him, don't you?” He accuses bitterly, and when you give him a confused look he continues. “Don’t deny it. You were childhood sweethearts. He told me you were set to be married before your parents forced you to marry a sissy like me."
"And you believed him?" You balk and he scoffs, looking away. "Then you’re even more of an idiot than I thought you were."
His head snaps back to stare at you, eyes glistening with tears. “You think I’m an idiot?” 
That’s what he focuses on? “Of course. You must be if you honestly think that I ever even entertained marrying that sexist, disgusting, pompous asshole."
“Then why did he say that?” He asks in a small voice and you yell out in frustration, “Because he can’t fathom how I can be happy with you and not him when everyone around him licks the ground he walks on.”
“You-you’re happy with me?” He peers up at you through his wet lashes and your heart hurls itself against your ribcage at the hope you see in his eyes. 
"Yes, I am.” You admit, and watch as the bright rays of happiness start to shine across his face, before they’re covered by another gloomy cloud. He shakes his head. “You just want someone weak to control. That’s why you like it with me.” 
You grab his face, a little rougher that you probably should but he was really pissing you off. “No, I want a man who is secure in his manhood that he doesn’t need to engage in these stupid dick measuring contests to feel good about himself. I want a man who is secure enough in himself that no matter how much I challenge him, he never lashes out at me for it. I want a man who even though I’ve been nothing but a bitch to him again and again, he still stuck by me because he saw the good in me when everyone else saw fault. I want you.” 
Beomgyu shoots forward, meeting your lips with his in a passionate kiss that you gladly reciprocate. He has been so brave for you. You can learn to be brave for him too.  
“I love you.” He professes when the need for air forces him to pull away. 
You cup his cheeks gently, staring into his kind eyes and hoping he’d be kind to you one more time, even if you don’t deserve it. “Just give me some time, okay? I promise I’ll get there if you give me a little more time.” 
That feeling of dread you get when you rebuff one of his advances and sit in fear of him finally getting sick enough of you to stop trying bubbles in your stomach as you wait for his response. But Beomgyu is even more merciful than you had ever dreamed of and his gentle smile washes away all your fear. 
“I will wait for as long as you need me to. I will never give up on you. I just needed to know that you wanted it too.” 
“I do. I really do. I want you.” Tears flow down your face unbidden and you let yourself be pulled into his warm embrace. 
This is what you could have if you could just learn to trust him–to really let yourself be cared for and loved without constantly being on the lookout for an inevitable betrayal. He can give you that. You know he can, and maybe with time, you too can give him everything he deserves. 
_____________________________
A/N: well there you go. honestly it came out a lot different than i had anticipated and a lot shorter, but i hope you still like it anyway. let me know which prince gyu is your favorite, yamqn pyscho prince gyu or sweet playful love you prince gyu?
if you can guess why the title is that, you get a treat.
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httpisaoki · 7 days
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forgive or forget ft. yu jimin
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-> part one. next. not proofread !
warnings. mentions of divorce, reader is referred as 'han junhi'. that's all i think?
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"don't...just..give me one more chance-" she wasn't done, her words faltered, her mouth drying out. she didn't want to sign the divorce papers, she wanted to run, to escape the fact that she'd ruined the marriage you've both built together. 
"i can make it up to you...just don't-don't divorce me" her voice was a plea now, her lips quivering. you stood firm, the divorce papers in your hands, your expression unapproachable, and she could see that you weren't going to change your mind. the divorce papers were a confirmation. 
she began trembling, her knees growing weak, the feeling of her life crashing down around her was enough to make her knees give out. she was about to crumble down to the floor but her mind had registered one thing. 
no, she wasn't letting you go that easily.
"wait!" she cried out, her hands rushing forwards. she couldn't let you divorce her, she couldn't let you abandon her. she grabbed the divorce papers out of your grip, the words of those papers nearly sending her down a spiral all over again. her voice was filled with tears as she spoke, "I-I refuse."
"you refuse?" you scoffed, "as if you have the right to say that." your voice was filled with amusement, finding it funny that she thinks she has a chance.
"yes, I refuse." she repeated, the tone of her voice now matching yours to an extent. her grip on the papers tightened, she wasn't giving in easily. the only right that she had here was to refuse a divorce. that's all she had now. "you're not leaving me this easily, you've put up with me for ten years, you can give me one more chance."
"you cheated behind my back, with one of my employees too, what do you expect?" you argued.
"I'll never do it again, I swear. that fling...I never even loved him, I don't even know why I did it-" she was babbling now, desperate to get you to stay, desperate to prove she changed. 
but how was she supposed to prove she won't cheat again if she never tried? she could give up drinking, she could not let another man near her ever again...anything to keep you. 
"why are you insisting? we married for success. for mutual gain. this wasn't out of love, it was for our companies." frustration filled your voice, pushing your hair back with a sigh.
it might have been true that you married for success but that didn't mean that love wasn't present in the relationship. there was love when you had picked her up when she was passed out drunk. there was love when you had supported her business ventures. 
but she pushed that aside, those thoughts were far too scary for her now.
"please...I don't want to lose you. just one more chance. I swear I won't ever cheat on you again, I promise."
"and how am I to believe that promise, you've cheated on me for months, you've gotten caught up in an affair, and now you want me to believe that you've decided to change in one night?" your words sent her stomach sinking to the floor. 
it was true, it couldn't just be changed overnight. but just the thought of you divorcing her made her want to beg again, to beg her way back to you. "please, just one more chance. just let me prove that I can change, just-just give me one more chance."
It annoyed you, the fact that your secretary, your best friend, agreed for a meeting between your ex-wife, saying that ‘you needed a break,’ and that it was only for business. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t be standing in front of your ex-wife right now.
You knew your success, finally building your company enough to be #1 in Korea, even achieving worldwide, you always worked hard, making you a workaholic, that’s why you were so distant to your past relationships, the lack of affection you showed because of work was one of the reasons your ex-wife felt neglected and you knew that. You had cared for her but maybe it was too late.
3 years after your divorce, you chose to go abroad to your company’s branches in Japan, having built up your company’s status, after a stressful 9 months, you flew back to korea with peace. That ended when the news of your return had been a headline for weeks and that didn’t go unnoticed by the public and to karina. 
Now, you were standing in front of her, your ex-wife. The unspoken tension was enough to make a man insane. But you weren’t going to break, not after what she had done.
as soon as you stepped into the meeting room, you froze. standing in front of you was someone you hadn't seen in two years-- your ex-wife, the woman who you had divorced after she betrayed your trust. her dark hair falling onto her shoulders, the black dress hugging her curves perfectly, she looked as if she had stepped out of a magazine. 
but that wasn't all that shocked you, the look of recognition was on her face as well. the memory of you two's marriage, those ten years, they filled her face with a bittersweet smile.
your eyes met but that was enough to make you feel like you were drowning in this very moment. all those emotions that you'd been feeling since the divorce washed over you, that bitterness, regret, everything.
you stood there for a moment, trying to get yourself together. she was just an ex-wife, your relationship was already a thing of the past, it was just a business now. "junhi," she greets, "congratulations on your achievements," her sweet voice filled your ears, an unsaid tension filled the room.
"is that reason why you wanted a meeting? to congratulate me on my achievements?" your tone filled with dryness, that cold facade of yours not helping. 
it was awkward being around her, being in the same room as her, having to meet face to face. you couldn't stop your fingers from fidgeting with that pen in your hand, the one hand remaining tucked in your pocket. 
"was there anything else you had wanted to discuss?" she paused, as if she was shocked by your sudden coldness. but she composed herself soon, as expected. 
she smiled again, keeping her eyes locked onto yours. "not really, no. i just wanted to talk to you, to congratulate you in person, but you are quite busy though, so i do also want to talk about one more thing."
you raised an eyebrow, not sure what she meant by 'one more thing'. the last thing you wanted now was for her to discuss personal matters when there could be someone else in the meeting.
you waited silently for her to speak, your arms crossed in front of you, your expression unapproachable.
"what would that be?" your tone filled with disinterest, you were ready to hear what she had to say, to get the business meeting over with. 
she paused, as if she was picking her words carefully. in the brief moment of silence, all you could feel was the bitter tension in the room. 
her lips parted for a moment, the smile still plastered onto her face, she opened her mouth to speak again, "do you mind if we talk somewhere more...private? i want to talk about something more personal.”
"is it that personal that we'd have to be alone?" my question represented how unbothered am I or it seems so, the opposite. 
"with all do respect, I don't have all day, ms. Yu." the professionalism in my tone made your heartbreak as if I had forgotten our past together. As if like you were merely a stranger to me.
your coldness made her flinch, it stung like fire in her chest whenever you spoke in cold, professional terms. your change of attitude-- no, return of attitude, it made it even worse. 
she gulped, her throat growing dry as you spoke. the way you addressed her wasn't even like your ex-wife, more like a total stranger that you were handling business with. 
"it's something that I don't want other colleagues listening in." she spoke softly, trying to match your tone, "it won't take long, promise."
I sighed, "apologies," the change in my tone was a surprise, "work has been stressful and I apologize if that had affected my attitude." gentleness in my voice as I looked at you carefully.
it was a surprise when you spoke gently, those few words made her take a step back, taken by surprise with the sudden change in your attitude. the tension in the room lessened, though only by a bit.
"then...let's go somewhere more private." she repeated, keeping her eyes on yours.
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-> should i post the masterlist.?
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edenesth · 13 days
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The Way to His Heart [20]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 5k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 19 | Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist
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San bowed his head as he absorbed the Queen's narration of the fourth prince's attempt to steal the general's wife during his absence at war, fearing the wrath of His Majesty and reeling from his own shock. Had he been aware of Prince Yeosang's plans beforehand, the royal secretary might have prevented you from attending the supposed birthday banquet in the first place.
The entire palace staff in the grand hall was startled as the King slammed his hand against the armrest of his throne, "The fourth prince did what?! This is outrageous! I've warned you countless times about spoiling him too much, my Queen."
Rubbing his temples, His Majesty shook his head and let out a heavy sigh, "We'll deal with him later. For now, confine him to his private chambers. He's only allowed in the royal library for his studies. The last thing we need is for him to unexpectedly show up at General Park's wedding and cause chaos."
Lowering her head, Her Majesty conceded, "Yes, Your Majesty. It's my responsibility. I know I should have been firmer with him."
"We're fortunate Lady Park handled the situation gracefully. I can see why Seonghwa is so enamoured with her," The King remarked with a slight smile before addressing San, "Secretary Choi, ensure that all funding for Prince Yeosang is withheld until further notice. Given his rebellious nature, he would likely find a way to disobey orders. Without financial resources, let's see what he can attempt."
As the Queen's lips parted to plead for leniency, His Majesty silenced her with a stern glare, leaving no room for argument. The weight of guilt settled heavily in her chest, a stark reminder of her own role in enabling the prince's behaviour. She couldn't deny that she simply wanted her fourth son to find happiness, but she knew deep down that her indulgence had contributed to his disobedient nature.
With a heavy heart, she reminded herself that this was not even the prince's harshest punishment yet. She could only imagine what further consequences awaited him at the hands of his father.
The royal secretary bowed in acknowledgement, "Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything else you would like to add?"
The King straightened up, his demeanour shifting as he moved on from the matter concerning his son, "It would be great if you could visit the general's estate and inquire about his well-being on my behalf. Once he's feeling all better, arrange a meeting promptly so we can proceed with his wedding ceremony without delay."
With a final bow, San prepared to take his leave, but before he could depart, the ageing monarch extended a hand to stop him, "Wait, Secretary Choi! There is one last matter," His Majesty interjected, "Please extend my sincere apologies to General Park for my son's behaviour and express gratitude for his dedicated service to the nation. See to it that we cover all his medical expenses."
"Of course, my King."
The royal secretary stood before the entrance of his friend's estate the next day, feeling a slight hesitation before announcing himself. While His and Her Majesty bore some responsibility for the fourth prince's actions, San couldn't shake the feeling of personal responsibility. After all, he had been the one to prepare you for the supposed royal event, unknowingly sending you into the lion's den. He couldn't help but feel like a bad friend to Seonghwa, questioning whether he had done enough to protect the general's wife in his absence.
"I'm sorry to intrude on your moment of reflection, but how much longer do you plan to linger by the entrance, sir?" The private investigator's voice snapped San out of his trance, prompting him to blink rapidly as he recognised the familiar figure leaning against the main gate, eyeing him with curiosity.
Clearing his throat, San composed himself, "O-oh, hello! I, uh... I was just about to enter. It's nice to properly meet you, Investigator Jung. My name is—"
"Royal Secretary Choi San, I know. We're all aware, don't worry! It's an honour to be recognised by you, sir. Come on, you must be here to see General Park. Let me show you to him; Jongho's occupied at the moment," Wooyoung led the way, the secretary noting his talkative nature, "You won't believe what he's up to right now; he's such a peculiar kid. Takes dedication to a whole new level, I'll tell you that..."
At a certain point, San tuned out the rambling, focusing instead on mentally preparing himself to face you and your husband again. Would Seonghwa be displeased with him for not coming to his wife's rescue when she needed it the most? He wouldn't be surprised at all if the general were to be truly upset with him.
Before he could further overthink it, they arrived at the living hall where the couple was seated and engaged in conversation with the famous dressmaker Kim and skilled Physician Jung. Your husband looked up as if sensing his presence, beaming, "Ah, you're here, San! Come join us. We knew you'd be showing up sometime this week. I assume His Majesty has received my letter, yes?"
The secretary was taken aback, to say the least. First of all, he didn't think he deserved the warm welcome, and secondly, he had believed Seonghwa's injury to be severe, so seeing him looking almost back to his usual self shocked him. Though the older man appeared a bit paler than usual, San was primarily relieved to see his friend alive and well. Memories of the panic he had felt upon first receiving news of the general's poisoning flooded back to him.
Oh, thank god he's okay.
Greeting everyone in the hall with a polite bow, he cleared his throat, "You have no idea how relieved I am to see you alright, General Park. But before I deliver His Majesty's message, I feel compelled to offer my apologies to you and Lady Park."
Confusion creased your brow as you asked, "Whatever for, San?"
With a sigh, he admitted, "You're both too kind for your own good. I should have been more vigilant and prevented Lady Park from attending Prince Yeosang's birthday banquet in the first place. If only I had intervened, she wouldn't have gone through—"
You interjected with a gentle chuckle, "Please, don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known. If you had, I'm certain you would have acted to prevent it."
Seonghwa nodded in agreement, adding, "San, you're far too hard on yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for; you've been nothing but a great help to my wife. Now, please, take a seat and join us."
Amidst the comforting smiles around him, the secretary finally eased into his seat. Eunsook promptly served him tea and refreshments, signalling the start of their discussions. San's revelation caught everyone off guard since they had yet to receive word from Mingi: the war had ended, and Ruhon had surrendered. As they exchanged incredulous glances, a wave of relief washed over them, followed by cheers of joy. The general and his wife shared a meaningful gaze, hands clasped together as you exchanged soft smiles. San understood the significance of that moment—the two could finally proceed with the long-awaited wedding ceremony.
The worst is finally over.
Unable to contain his curiosity, San finally inquired about how the general had sustained his injury. Your husband recounted the harrowing experience, his friends visibly wincing as they imagined the scenario. Your heart ached as you listened. Sensing the tension, Yunho jumped in, reassuring everyone that the injury wasn't severe and that with proper rest, Seonghwa would be back to full health in a matter of weeks.
"That's a relief. Once you're feeling better, we'll arrange a meeting with Their Majesties to plan your wedding. That's the main reason His Majesty sent me here today, aside from checking on you," The hall buzzed with excitement, but the general sensed that the secretary had more to say, "Is there something else, San?"
Taking a deep breath, San continued, "The King also wants to extend his sincerest apologies for the fourth prince's actions. As part of his punishment, Prince Yeosang has been confined to his private chambers, and his funds have been frozen. His Majesty is concerned about him causing any disruptions at your wedding."
"Oh, good riddance!" While Hongjoong and Wooyoung clapped with Yunho silently judging them from his corner, you appeared unsettled by the news. Feeling your unease, your husband tightened his grip on your hand and asked, "What's wrong, my love?"
The news of the prince's fate left you with mixed emotions. You felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of him being barred from your wedding. Despite his actions, you couldn't deny that he was still a friend to you and a part of you felt sorry for the struggles he faced all his life due to his birthmark. Understanding the complexities of his situation, you empathised with his confusion and desperation that stemmed from his severe lack of experience with love.
With a small gulp, you turned to your husband, voicing, "Hwa, I... I think I'd still want His Highness at our wedding, if he wished to attend," Surprised looks crossed the faces of everyone in the hall. As you explained your reasoning, they began to understand your perspective. After a moment of contemplation, Seonghwa lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of your palm with a reassuring smile, "Fair enough. If that's truly what you want, we'll discuss it with the King."
In keeping with his promise, you found yourself seated beside your husband as you faced His and Her Majesty for the first time a few weeks later, now that he was fully recovered. Sensing your nervousness about the meeting, the royal couple greeted you warmly, swiftly putting you at ease. After exchanging pleasantries, the general wasted no time in making his request.
"My King, we've heard about the punishment for the fourth prince," He began, "But my wife and I would like to request that you at least allow His Highness to attend our wedding if he wishes."
Confusion flickered across His Majesty's face, "You do? But why?" He inquired. The Seonghwa he once knew would have been furious and unforgiving. It seemed Lady Park had a positive influence on him.
Feeling it was only right for you to respond since it was your personal request, you gathered your thoughts before speaking.
"Your Majesty, I understand that Prince Yeosang's actions may seem outrageous from an outsider's perspective. However, I believe His Highness has endured a painful life, facing discrimination due to his birthmark. It's clear he mistook kindness for love, given his limited experiences. Despite his mistakes, he remains a dear friend to me. It would be meaningful to have him at our celebration, if he chooses to attend. I hope you can understand, Your Majesties. I apologise if I've spoken too much and am overstepping boundaries."
As your words sank in, a wave of introspection washed over the King. For the first time, he found himself reflecting on his relationship with Yeosang. Had he been too harsh on his son? Had he failed to understand the pain his son bore due to his birthmark? The King couldn't shake the feeling of guilt as he realised that he may have viewed his son more as a burden than a beloved child. Perhaps there were times when he had even considered the prince's refusal to marry as a personal affront.
The sudden realisation left the King feeling conflicted and remorseful. He wondered if he had been a horrible father, too absorbed in his duties as a monarch to truly understand his son's struggles. It was a sobering moment for him, realising that he may have overlooked his son's pain and loneliness. Was this why the Queen had been so persistent in advocating leniency towards Yeosang? Was she trying to make up for his shortcomings as a father? These questions weighed heavily on his mind as he grappled with his newfound awareness of his own failings.
His and Her Majesty exchanged a meaningful glance. Suddenly, they understood why the fourth prince would mistake his gratitude towards you for love. After all, you had shown him a kindness and compassion he had rarely experienced, even from his own family.
Beginning to feel anxious at the royal couple's silence, you awaited their response with bated breath, with Seonghwa ready to support you if needed. To your relief, they smiled warmly at you.
"Please don't apologise for that, Lady Park," They reassured you, "You're right; perhaps we've been too harsh on him all this while. If having him at your wedding is what you wish, we shall allow it."
"Thank you, Your Majesties."
The Queen sighed softly before adding, "But whether or not he wishes to attend is ultimately his decision. Let's hope he chooses to join us for your sake."
You nodded in understanding, "Of course, I completely understand."
As the preparations for your wedding ceremony unfolded, time seemed to pass in a blur. Traditionally, weddings entail two parts: the first at the bride's home, where the couple honours her ancestors and family, and the second at the groom's home for the same purpose. However, due to your circumstances, with no family home for you and Seonghwa having little connection to his parents or ancestors, your wedding would be simplified, taking place solely within the palace grounds, where the royal family would also be able to attend, given that most of them are not allowed to leave the place.
In no time, you found yourself comfortably seated in one of the palace chambers, which had been graciously lent to you for the day. Hongjoong immediately began working on perfecting your look, with Eunsook and a team of palace maids assisting him.
You couldn't help but marvel at the exquisite hanbok now adorning your figure. Unlike the traditional red hanbok worn by most brides, this one was a stunning combination of white and gold. It was a testament to the dressmaker's dedication to his friend's request to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon.
Instead of the usual red flower, Hongjoong meticulously painted a gold flower on your forehead to complement your exquisite hanbok. You admired how perfectly it matched your outfit and the gold accessories adorning your hair. While part of you wondered if it was appropriate to outshine the royals, as the dressmaker had emphasised countless times, another part of you chose to revel in the admiration you would receive. You couldn't believe how far you'd come from being the scared girl who once endured disdainful glances and disrespect before marrying Seonghwa.
Reflecting on your journey, you felt grateful for the twists and turns that had brought you to this moment. Perhaps Jinjoo was right; you were quite thankful to your family for orchestrating your union with the general. Without them, you wouldn't be here, basking in the happiness you had finally found.
I guess we're even now, father.
Noticing your silence and distant gaze in the mirror's reflection, the dressmaker lightly nudged you on the shoulder, "Well? How do you like this look, my lady? Please don't tell me you're having second thoughts about standing out now. I've spent the past month working tirelessly on this hanbok—"
You giggled and offered a soft smile to your friend, "Don't worry, Hongjoong. It's perfection. For once, I think it's okay for me to outshine even the princesses. After all, it's my wedding ceremony, and I'll only be getting married once."
His grin widened proudly as he saw you slowly shedding your old self, no longer the timid girl he first met, "Damn right, it's perfection. I create only that and nothing less," He joked before turning serious, "Listen, I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Seonghwa's a dear friend to me, and I honestly would've thrown a bigger tantrum than he did if he had been arranged to marry some spoiled brat. You don't know how happy I am that you've found each other. But if that idiot does anything to upset you again, you better tell me."
You chuckled through your tears, your throat tightening at his heartfelt words, "You bet I will. Thank you, Hongjoong."
He panicked when he noticed your wet eyes, "Hey, hey, hey. Don't you dare start crying, woman. If you cry, I'll cry too. And trust me, that's not a good look for either of us. Plus, you can't ruin your makeup!"
His jest seemed to do the trick, eliciting another round of laughter from you. Fussing over you one last time, he noticed the palace staff at the entrance signalling it was time for you to be on standby. Gently grasping your shoulders, he beamed at you like a proud father, "Are you ready, Lady Park?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
With the nervous beat of your heart echoing in your ears, you were guided to the main hall, where the rituals would soon unfold, with Eunsook at your side. Hongjoong had departed after ensuring you looked flawless, joining the other wedding guests. As you reached the waiting area, where final checks would be made before your grand entrance and your first meeting with your husband today, your steps faltered.
While the head maid busied herself tidying your hair and smoothing the creases in your hanbok, you gulped, "Eunsook, t-tell me... this isn't a dream, is it?"
The elderly woman giggled, gently taking hold of your hands, "Are you still asking me that, mistress? Do you remember the first time you asked me that question?"
You nodded, reminiscing about the first time you had allowed the maids to bathe you after Seonghwa had discovered your scars. So much has changed since then. Though you weren't the same person you once were, a small part of you still harboured a fear that this all might be too good to be true. It felt like a long dream, and you couldn't shake the worry that you would one day wake up back in the hellhole you once called home.
Giving your hand a comforting squeeze, she smiled, "Well, I'm here to reassure you once more that this is all very real. Perhaps you fear losing the happiness you've found and you're not alone in that. Master feels the same way, so do all of us at the estate. We all fear losing the happiness that you've brought into our lives. I hope you haven't forgotten what I've said to you: you are our light and our hope. You're incredibly important to all of us. You still are, and always will be."
"She's right, you know?"
A familiar deep voice interrupted, startling both you and Eunsook as an unexpected figure appeared behind you. Surprised, you turned to find Prince Yeosang standing there, arms casually intertwined behind his back, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed your reaction.
"Y-Your Highness?" You stammered, half-expecting his absence.
He continued, "You should've seen General Park earlier as they got him dressed. All he cared about was how you were doing. I guess that's what you meant by true love, huh? I wish it were just a dream for me, but it's not. So, don't you worry, Lady Park, this is all very real. I didn't give up on you for you to doubt this reality. Please make my choice worth it and be happy, okay?"
Relief flooded through you, reassured by his acceptance of your new chapter, "I promise I will make it worth it. Thank you, my prince, for choosing to be here today and for your kind words." You replied, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
He grinned in response, "Of course, wouldn't miss my first and only friend's wedding for the world," With a playful wink, he gestured towards the palace staff entering to usher you out, "Now hurry and get out there, don't make him wait any longer."
At last, all is right in the world.
Returning his smile with gratitude, you took a deep breath before stepping forward. As you walked out, you felt a newfound readiness wash over you. You were prepared now; ready to formally be wedded to Park Seonghwa, not out of obligation, but out of pure love for him. You were ready to be the wife he needed, the shoulder he could lean on when the weight of his responsibilities grew heavy. You were ready to be his home, his refuge, ready to be everything to him, just as he was everything to you.
As Seonghwa stepped out from his side of the waiting area, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you approaching from the opposite end. Each time he laid eyes on you, he thought you couldn't possibly become more beautiful, yet you continued to prove him wrong. Hongjoong had outdone himself once again; you looked more majestic than any royalty he had ever seen.
You stood out among the crowd, exuding grace and elegance in your one-of-a-kind hanbok. As you glided toward him, he felt overwhelmed by your beauty. But it wasn't just the general who was stunned; every guest at the ceremony had their jaws drop in awe at your ethereal appearance. Those seeing you for the first time now realised the whispers and rumours about your beauty were true. Truly, you looked like an angel descended from the heavens.
As the rituals unfolded, requiring you and Seonghwa to stand across from each other and perform a series of bows as instructed by the wedding officiator, each gesture symbolising a different aspect of your commitment to each other, you both remained focused on each other. Despite the lengthy and tedious proceedings, all you could see was one another as you patiently waited for it all to be over.
The guests cooed in anticipation as it was time for you and your husband to exchange a cup of wine, the act symbolising longevity and fertility. You blushed lightly as you heard Wooyoung among the crowd squealing, only to be smacked silent by Jongho and Yunho who stood by his side.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the seemingly endless rituals were concluded. You and the general bowed together a few more times: once to His and Her Majesty, once to the gods, and once to the guests. With that, the ceremony was complete, and you could finally bask in the joy of being officially united as husband and wife.
After the two of you expressed gratitude to the King and Queen for their assistance in making the wedding possible, the feast began. As neither you nor Seonghwa had any family present, you were naturally surrounded by your closest companions, the guys. Your husband took the opportunity to introduce you to the only friend of his whom you had yet to meet.
Grateful for his presence, you smiled warmly at the strategist, "Thank you for always looking out for my husband, Officer Song."
Mingi grinned bashfully, his cheeks tinged with a slight blush. He still seemed taken aback by your beauty, "Not at all, my lady. It's General Park who has been looking out for me all this while."
Seonghwa smirked knowingly, giving the taller man a playful nudge, "Thanks again for coming, man. A little birdie told me you've reunited with a special someone. Can we expect a wedding invite soon?"
The guys around the table teased with mischievous oohs as Mingi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I don't know, hyung-nim. I'm working on it. But let's not talk about me, it's your big day!"
Hongjoong, however, wasn't having it, "Oh, come on, don't you dare change the subject! We need details about this mysterious lady!" He insisted, eager for gossip. The other guys excitedly chimed in, urging the officer to spill the beans about the royal physician who had captured his attention for years.
Amidst their playful interrogation of Mingi, you glanced around the room, curious to see if the fourth prince was still present. Catching sight of him, you noticed he was discreetly making his way toward the exit. Sensing your gaze, he turned, meeting your eyes. He offered you a genuine smile and a final nod before vanishing from view.
May happiness find you, Your Highness.
The remainder of the ceremony proceeded seamlessly, thanks to the meticulous arrangements made by the palace staff. As night fell, you returned to Seonghwa's private chambers, where the two of you would share a meal and some drinks before... going to bed. Your heart pounded with nervousness, fully aware of the significance of the evening; you would both be expected to consummate your marriage tonight.
"My love, are you feeling alright?" You blinked rapidly, coming back to reality as your husband waved his hand in front of your face to grab your attention. You nodded quickly and resumed eating, trying to appear casual, "Y-yes, I'm fine, Hwa. Don't worry about me."
But the general was more perceptive than you realised. He could sense your unease, especially as the meal was drawing to a close. With a soft smile, he set down his wine glass and reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Why do you bother lying to me, you silly girl? Did you think I would be disappointed in you?"
He knew he had guessed correctly when your chewing momentarily paused. Shifting his hand to cup your cheek, he gently guided you to meet his warm gaze, "What do you take me for, hm? We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready. I can wait, I'll wait for as long as you need," With a tender kiss on your forehead, he rose from his seat, "I'll get the maids to prepare the House of Lotus for you."
Feeling deeply touched by his understanding, you realised how foolish you had been to once fear the possibility of him hurting you. Truthfully, it wasn't that you didn't want to deepen your intimacy with him; rather, you were scared. He would be the first man to see all of you, every scar on your body, and you feared what he might think, feared letting him down. But his love for you reminded you of his kindness and brought you a newfound confidence.
Before he could leave, you panicked and reached for his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, "No, Hwa, please don't. I want to... I-I want to stay with you tonight."
Kneeling before you, he gently took your hands in his, "Are you sure, my love? You don't have to force yourself—"
You cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his. He responded almost immediately, and you smiled at the small whine he let out as he chased after your lips when you pulled away. Whispering, you said, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to stay with you, Park Seonghwa. You're not getting rid of me tonight, or ever."
Unable to restrain himself any longer, he immediately captured your lips in a deep kiss, one passionate enough to leave you dizzy. With his guidance, you rose from your seat, your lips still connected, and he lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards his bed. Both your hearts raced as you broke the kiss to catch your breath, panting as he gently set you down.
Your breath caught as you leaned against the pillows behind you, trapped between his arms as before, reminiscent of the interrupted moment with Hongjoong. However, this time, it wasn't you who halted the moment. The general's gaze turned serious as he locked eyes with you, his voice low, "Last chance. We can still stop if you want to change your mind. Because if we go any further from here, I'm afraid I won't be able to hold myself back."
Cupping his face, you leaned in to kiss him softly, murmuring, "I love you, Hwa." If that wasn't enough to convey your feelings, you guided his hands to the ribbon securing the outer layer of your hanbok, silently granting him permission to undress you.
The first time he had aggressively torn your clothing was a mistake he regretted deeply. Now, he approached it with care, delicately untying the ribbon and holding his breath as he removed the garment, exposing your shoulders once more. The faint traces of your old scars were visible, but they didn't faze him. Tilting your chin up, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "You're so beautiful, my wife. I love you too."
Wrapping your arms around his neck, your eyes fluttered close as he kissed you again, banishing all previous worries from your mind. When he pulled away, his lips trailed down your neck until they reached your scars. Gently pushing some hair away from his face, you stroked his head affectionately, watching as he showered each mark with kisses. As his hand hovered over the ribbon securing the inner layer of your hanbok, he looked up at you one last time, knowing there would be no turning back from this moment onward.
"I'll be gentle, my love, I promise."
"I know, Hwa, I trust you."
That night, you and Seonghwa became lost in each other, the boundaries between you fading away as you become one for the first time. In each other's arms, you discovered a love deeper than you ever thought possible. You found yourself no longer able to picture your life without him at this point.
Reflecting on your journey together, you marvelled at how much he had changed since you first met. Back then, you could never have imagined that he would come to love you so deeply, nor could you have anticipated the depth of your own feelings for him. Now, as you lay intertwined with him in the quiet of the night, you knew that you had arrived at your destination. It had been a long journey, filled with obstacles and challenges, but in the end, you found it.
You had finally found the way to his heart.
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Y'all, I hope this one didn't disappoint! The pressure of knowing this was the final part was so SO REAL. Maybe it's my insecurities kicking in, but I genuinely hope this meets expectations!😭
Also, I know the story is completed but I have good news! I've decided to do some fluff-filled bonus chapters because I'm well aware this is barely enough to make up for all the angst I've put y'all through HAHA if you're not on the tag list and would like to be tagged for any future bonus content, just leave a comment to let me know!
Whoo, it's been quite the roller coaster ride now, hasn't it? If you've made it this far, I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story! From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for reading and as always, please let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rhwa @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr
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doodle-pops · 5 months
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House of Fingolfin | Being In An Arranged Marriage With Them
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A/N: This takes place in Valinor, in a no–darkening verse and arranged marriages are common traditions among the elves. By now, I'm considering this an AU within the Silm verse with all the ideas that’s been swimming in my mind after writing each headcanon (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
Warnings: feelings of neglect and loneliness, resentment, disputes, there is some comfort, angst because it's an arranged marriage
Arranged Marriage AU: Arafinweans ver.
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☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingolfin
Fingolfin strongly resents being told what to do. However, if complying benefits his family and upholds his royal status as an exemplar for princes, he will reluctantly follow through. In this context, he would have no significant objections to an arranged marriage.
He genuinely believes in his father’s good intentions and considers his mother’s agreement as final. Fingolfin would attentively attend the meeting, listening to the criteria and rationale for the arrangement while occasionally glancing at your disheartened expression.
Initially, he might struggle to comprehend why you don’t view the situation as a win–win, given that you’re marrying a prince and about to enjoy a luxurious lifestyle. The notion of being forced into this or having a lover only dawns on Fingolfin when his younger brother or a friend brings it up.
He’s determined to make the relationship work and hopes you won’t be confrontational or resist connecting with each other. Your reluctance to make things work is a source of frustration for him, but his pride prevents him from complaining to others.
But it is important to keep in mind that as much as he’s fighting you to make this work, he is respectful of your boundaries and personal space.
“I may have been slow to realise your reservations about the arrangement, but may I ask that you at least attempt not to distance yourself when all I want is for this to go smoothly? Yes, we will be married soon, but I’m not suggesting a romantic involvement, just a basic level of cooperation to ease the tension, please.”
He’s eager to make the arrangement a success because he sees it as essential for his role as a prince and a way to outshine his older brother. In Fingolfin’s perspective, this is a competition, albeit unfortunate for you.
You must assert that for this relationship to work, it shouldn’t be a platform for competition or jealousy, but rather something mutually beneficial and meaningful. You seek a partner you can rely on and trust, while he desires a confidant.
Despite the challenges, you enjoy a royal lifestyle with extravagant parties, balls, and dinners, access to the finest materials and food, a luxurious house designed to your liking, and any other desired indulgence. Fingolfin explicitly mentions that the house was created with your preferences in mind in hopes of ensuring some form of comfort is achieved.
An added benefit of the relationship is Fingolfin’s trust in your abilities as a mediator and leader. As a means to enhance communication, he gradually opens up and seeks your advice in the hopes of strengthening the arrangement.
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☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingon
Initially, when the news was broken to him, Fingon found it all rather amusing. He doubled over and laughed in his father’s face, thinking it was some kind of joke. It took a while for the seriousness of the situation to sink in, and he soon realised that this was no laughing matter. Fingon is a free–spirited individual who believes in choosing when to marry, not never for political reasons, as was the case in this instance.
When you’re in the room, Fingon prefers to keep his anger in check and maintain a pleasant demeanour, as he doesn’t want to frighten you. He’s well aware that you had no say in this decision, and his father is the only one he has an issue with.
The sorrowful look on his face when he meets your eyes is heart–wrenching, as both of you are victims of politics. Despite the circumstances, he does his best to shield you from the harsh reality and maintain the illusion of a simple friendship.
Among all his siblings and his father, Fingon is undoubtedly the most agreeable elf to be married to. Despite his inner turmoil and his father’s constant pressure to make the relationship work, he remains cheerful and amiable in your company, ensuring your comfort throughout the entire engagement.
However, in the early days of the marriage, he was the complete opposite of his usual self, largely due to your reserved nature. He was distant and mostly silent as he grappled with controlling his temper, trying to figure out how to make the relationship work.
If he’s going to be your husband against his will, he’s determined to be the best one you could hope for. Do you require your space? You got it. Do you not wish to see or speak to him? He’ll respect it. Do you want him to stop pretending that everything’s perfect? You’ll get that as well, although it may not be what you expect.
“You might be expecting me to shout, scream, or completely ignore you. I couldn’t bring myself to do any of that, though, as it’s not how my mother raised me to behave when I’m dissatisfied... I understand that you see through the façade I put up; it’s mostly to get my father off my back. But it’s not an act when I’m around you.”
Count on Fingon to make your forced marriage bearable and tolerable. He alleviates the typical anxiety associated with arranged marriages by filling it with unconditional love, support, appreciation, and trust. He never lets the burden fall on you and always stands by your side, ready to defend you.
One thing he won’t tolerate is anyone belittling your role as his spouse, whether it’s from your family or his. He respects your choices and ensures that you’re comfortable before engaging in anything personal.
Fingon never rushes you into anything uncomfortable and allows you to make decisions, trusting your judgment and revealing his vulnerability. He sees this as a hopeful approach to overcoming the arranged marriage label that hangs over your heads.
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☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Turgon
Even if it were his father delivering the news that an arranged marriage was necessary to uphold the family name, Turgon was on the verge of overturning a table and vanishing before his father could reveal your name. However, Turgon knew he wouldn’t get far before being compelled to return home and address the situation.
It was the gloomiest atmosphere in recent memory when he was in the room, glaring at your presence as you entered with your family. The whole ordeal made him feel nauseous, especially when he observed how supportive his mother was in the matter.
Turgon didn’t speak or acknowledge your existence. If you were residing in your preexisting home, you both slept in separate quarters. He even made an effort to become familiar with your schedule to ensure you didn’t cross paths because he wanted to avoid giving the impression of any interest in making things work.
It felt like living alone with a brooding spectre who constantly muttered under his breath as though he was casting a spell. He was quick to anger and often directed his frustration at everyone around him, not just his and your parents. Congratulations, you were arranged to someone who unjustly blamed you.
Like his cousins, you had to assert yourself and demand respect, forcing your voice above his constant grumbling.
“Listen, I’ll make this clear just once, so don’t make me repeat myself. Stop blaming me and direct your frustrations at my parents and yours. We’re in this together whether we like it or not—so accept it and put an end to the complaining, just like I did. We’re going to make this work—we don’t have to share a bed or be best friends, but we should find common ground and understanding. I won’t accept ‘no’ as an answer, as it’s proven to be pointless, so stop whining and work with me!”
You earned his respect because no one had the audacity to confront him like that without fearing his explosive anger. From that day on, there was a subtle change in the household routine, like not avoiding your schedules and sharing the same space (excluding the bedroom).
Any attempts at conversation were initiated by you, and you had to strain your ears to catch his mumbled responses. When it came to public appearances, he was as stiff as a board and communicated sparingly.
However, it was his instinct to defend you and his family if anyone made disrespectful comments about your situation. That was something for him and you to contemplate, not for others to meddle in, so someone would be put in their place. That night, you saw the most emotion from him apart from his temper.
An incident like that brought you both a step closer to displaying your emotions and feelings, particularly your protectiveness toward him. As simple as it may seem, he wanted to know about your day and if anyone insulted you when you were out. It was a step in the growth of your relationship.
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☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Argon
Argon is fucking bewildered and struggling to comprehend the situation because he’s still a young individual being informed of an arranged marriage he never wanted. He responds with profanity and loud protests until his father intervenes to calm him down.
He despises every moment of it, particularly when he recalls how his cousins and brothers were subjected to the same process. He can’t believe he’s in the same situation despite his strong desire to find love on his own. Even if you were present in the room, his anger blinds him to your concern.
For days to weeks, you two may not exchange words, with occasional glances and stares being the only form of communication. Even after the marriage, he only engages in minimal conversation, ensuring your well–being and comfort in the shared space, though his tone is often filled with bitterness.
Initially, your marriage feels like cohabitating with a mere housemate, as your interactions are limited to household chores. Meaningful conversations based on your interests are virtually non–existent. It would take significant time and effort before either of you musters the courage to address the awkward silence in the house, ideally during breakfast.
“May I speak? No, it’s not about breakfast; it’s about us. We’ve been living like roommates for months, hardly even acquaintances. All we do together is eat and do chores. I know you’re still upset about this arrangement—so am I—but I’d appreciate it if we could replace this white noise with something resembling friendship. We’re already living together, so we’re past the stage of being strangers.”
Argon is genuinely sorry to discover that you desire more meaningful interactions rather than distance, which he had assumed. Your first breakthrough occurs when you jest about his misinterpretation of your gestures, breaking the awkward silence with a touch of Argon’s playful nature.
Following in the footsteps of his eldest brother, he emulates his gestures in the hopes of fostering a deeper connection. Although his emotions make him eager and impulsive, he doesn’t want you to bear the blame for his dissatisfaction.
Eventually, a level of vulnerability emerges in your discussions, allowing both of you to overcome this significant turning point in your lives. More joy and laughter infuse the household as you both express your opinions, views on the situation, and expectations for the future. Given his youth and the wealth of advice he’s received on arranged marriages, he engages in meaningful conversations to ensure you share the same expectations.
He has no intention of subjecting you to the mistreatment that others might inflict on their spouses, placing trust in you and expecting the same in return. For the majority of your marriage, despite lingering awkwardness, you manage to build a friendship with someone who is open and respectful.
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Masterlist
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esther-dot · 4 months
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Pride & Prejudice AUs
You Look Like A Movie, You Sound Like A Song 2k @jonsastan
She had met Jon Targaryen there. It was a complete accident and at first, Sansa thought, a complete misfortune. He was drenched from an impromptu swim in his pond, and she was flustered, not wanting him to think she was vying for his attention. But as she had attempted to make her hurried escape, he had found her and invited her parents to stroll with him around the gardens. He had offered her kindness, and thoughtfulness, he had talked with her parents, discussed the present state of politics with her father and chatted knowledgeably about gardens with her mother.
A Certain Step Toward Falling in Love 2k by @comma-splice
Jon Snow returns North after departing abruptly one year ago.
The Bennet Sisters - a P&P AU comic by @melinaillustrations
P&P Gifset by @sardoniyx, P&P Gifset by @dcbicki, P&P Gifset by deactivated
Persuasion AUs
Who Loves Longest, Who loves Best 1k by @ladysaruka
After refusing him years ago, Sansa sees her cousin once again.
Persuasion edits one, two , three by @glueck
Mansfield Park AUs
Half Agony, Half Hope 10k, incomplete by @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth
After the death of his disgraced mother, Jon Snow is taken in by his uncle's family, the Starks of Winterfell. He grows up alongside his cousins, including the beautiful and kind-hearted Sansa, but knowing he can never truly be their equal, he fears he has little choice but to leave the place he's come to call home. corresponding moodboard
Catch Me If You Can 34k (P&P and Emma inspired too) by @ben-barnes-is-my-husband
Set in the countryside of Regency England, Jon Snow has been in love with Sansa Stark for as long as he can remember. He wants her as his wife, but Sansa is not sure she wants to be a wife at all, and she knows she doesn’t want to marry the pragmatic and boring Jon. She’d rather help Theon Greyjoy come out of his shell and play matchmaker. But then Jaime Lannister comes to town and Jon finds he has some serious competition for Sansa…
Moments Like This (So Few and Far Between) 3k by @lydiamartenism
Mama and Papa left the house to go pick up Jon, the son of her father’s oldest friend. Three weeks ago, the phone rang and their parent’s announced that Jon would be coming to live with them since his mother passed away and had no one else to take care of him.
Northanger Abbey AUs
The Lady in White 7k by @kissed-by-circe
Dragonstone Manor had looked like it had woken only a few days earlier, after a slumber of several years, if not decades, and Sansa had felt like the heroine of a gothic novel, a mysterious, naive girl with a dark past or a dark secret, arriving at the opening scene of the most dramatic story of all times. Or Sansa as Katherine Morland in a Jane Eyre Setting.
Sense & Sensibility AUs
In Such Jocund Company 2k @maybetwice
It would be no matter at all for Captain Snow to return to the north after seven months’ absence, had Sansa’s heart not changed entirely in that time. A remix of Colonel Brandon and Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility.
Emma & Clueless AUs
if i loved you less 2k by @ladystarks
Her father has, often and fondly, told Sansa that she and Mr. Snow bite at each other like wolves, but he hardly understood that their verbal sparring was as exhilarating as a sport well done, or a match coming together under Sansa’s skilled hands. corresponding artwork
Sansa: A NOVEL in Five Parts 15k by @imagineagreatadventure
Sansa Stark, handsome, clever, rich, hopes to establish herself as her town's foremost matchmaker. After seeing her governess Miss Shae married to the rich and clever Mr. Tyrion Lannister, she feels as though she deserves that title. Her dear friend and cousin, Jon Targaryen, heartily disagrees and is quite proven right when Sansa sets her sights on marrying off her newest and dearest friend Jeyne Poole to the vicar Mr. Baelish.
A Baldwin and a Betty 2k
Jon drives to the Valley to give Sansa a ride home.
Emma AU art by @dcvahkiin and Clueless art by wolvesofspring
Emma Gifset by @dcbicki
General Regency AUs
No Notion of Loving by Halves 2k @darkmagyk
The Stark cousin, Jon, goes home to discuss matters concerning the entail on Winterfell. In which Jon is a really good guy, and I flagrantly disregard how entails actually work.
Manners and Misunderstandings 114k, WIP by @x-winging-it
The Stark sisters have travelled all the way to London to begin their first season, leaving behind the familiar world of Winterfell Hall and a disappointed Jon Stark- with whom the eldest Miss Stark has been convinced to break off a connection. In London they join family friends the Baratheons and the fashionable young Tyrells in a world of romance and balls. Meanwhile Gendry Waters has been plucked out of the life he knew to become his ailing father's heir, Robb, Theon and later Rickon embark on military careers in the Napoleonic wars, and their aunt Lysa makes a foolish marriage. When tragedy hits the family, they must come together, learning how manners may hide monsters and the best people are often those misunderstood by society.
You Could Draw Me to the Gallows 2k by @azulaahai
After having eloped from home with and subsequently been abandoned by wealthy heir Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa Stark refuses to come home. Having caused a scandal that is sure to prevent her from ever marrying, she is adamant not to bring further shame to the family name by returning to Winterfell. Until, that is, a visitor comes to her - Jon Snow, an old family friend, determined to bring Sansa with him back north. He has a solution to offer her - a proposal with the potential to change both of their lives.
A Perilous Dance Indeed & fiercely, tenderly and eternally 27k by @amymel86
He should either look away or interrupt this improper little meeting, he knows. For some unfathomable reason, he does neither. The two look far too intimate for Jon’s liking, although he feels he should have come to expect it to be so. A romantic like Sansa – however proper she is – would simply adore overt flirtations and a secret tête-à-tête. Even from where he stands, Jon can see the way in which she has stars set in her eyes like precious cut stones. He only hopes the man for whom they shine is deserving of it. *** Cousin Jon is to inherit Winterfell Manor and its estate after the untimely death of his uncle leaves a widow and two daughters. Sansa is expectant of an imminent proposal from her dear beau, Harrold Hardyng and everything will be absolutely, stunningly, utterly fine.
Waiting for Your Slippered Feet 49k by @wintry-ritu
Lady Sansa Stark has always looked forward to her come-out season in London, the balls, the rides in Hyde Park, evenings at Vauxhall, the romance and wonder of it all. Never had she imagined that it would happen like this, with her parents gone and her younger siblings underfoot. Now, all Sansa wants is for it all to be over quickly so she can get back to Winterfell. She needs a kind, amiable man who will be brave enough to take on his wife's siblings. That should not be so hard to find in London, should it? And while she is most grateful for Jon Targaryen's help, why must her cousin be so distracting?
To Make You Love Me 16k incomplete and orphaned
When Ned Stark dies, he leaves behind his wife, two daughters, and his family’s estate at Winterfell. What follows is a series of unwanted marriage proposals, houseguests who far outstay their welcome, and Arya parading around in a comically large hat and an oil-paint mustache as she declares herself the new ‘Lord of Winterfell,’ in an attempt to dissuade her sister’s suitors. However, when Mr. Jon Snow — their distant cousin and Ned’s appointed heir to the estate — comes to call, an oil-paint mustache is hardly enough to deter him from courting Miss Sansa Stark. And she thinks, perhaps, that a man could marry her for love more than her claim, after all.
Mine for a Season 101k by @vivilove-jonsa
Colonel Jon Targaryen is a single man in possession of a good fortune who claims no interest in finding himself a wife. With his war wounds, he thinks no young lady would want him anyway for anything beyond the allure of his pocketbook. Fortunately and unbeknownst to him, Fate has chosen to find a wife for him and will even deliver her right to his doorstep. Taking on the responsibility of shepherding a young lady about for a Season in London is not at all what Jon had wished to do but he had accepted out of a sense of familial duty. However, once he meets Sansa again after only having met her years ago as a child, he may not consider it a duty so much as a torment.
a lady of winterfell 185k, WIP by @wandering-scavenger
She bit her lip and exhaled shakily, “If you are so sickened by the prospect of marrying me, we should be able to obtain an annulment easily enough with your father’s connections.” “I will do no such thing.” he snapped, refusing to look at her. Sansa had never felt more rejected than she did at that moment. Her past experiences of being humiliated at the hand of Joffrey did not feel as painful as this. Even so, she could not allow him to see the weakness in her, not now. “I will not be left out, Jon.” she said, tilting her chin up to look down at him. He grimaced. They were silent for longer than she cared to count, but each second that he did not speak chipped away at her resolve and her ability to withhold her tears. Jon did not want her, and she could not blame him. Who could ever want her? It should not have distressed her as much as it did. She was never his favourite sister, she who treated him as a stranger since she was old enough to understand what a bastard was. A tear slipped down to her face until she tasted the salt of it on her lips. “If we marry, we will remain so.” corresponding gifset
moth's wings 47k by @cellsshapedlikestars
Sansa was determined to convince her aunt to let Arya debut, which is how she finds herself in her current predicament. “Who is this secret gentleman who has asked for your hand?” Aunt Lysa asks, and Sansa knows from her tone that she does not believe. (She has every right not to believe, for it is not true.) And then Sansa does something very, very foolish. She says a name. “The Duke of Dragonstone!” Or, Sansa fakes an engagement so that Arya can debut and marry the man she loves. The only problem? Her fake fiance just so happens to be in the city when he was not supposed to be.
An Understanding 2k, WIP by @thewolvescalledmehome
At the start of Sansa Stark's third London Season, she decides it will be her last. She will secure a husband by the end of the final ball. Jon Snow is new to the London Season and high society. He never expected to inherit money or property from an unknown uncle. When they meet at a ball, Sansa gets an idea.
you're in my blood like holy wine 72k
Sansa finds it difficult to look at Jon’s face, with its weathered lines and cragginess. It is the face of the North and a face that northerners trust; the face of Sansa’s brothers and her father, who had been loved and respected by their tenants as their forefathers had been when they were kings. How can Sansa feel anything but resentment, looking into that face and knowing that all of her years of hard work will never earn her the respect that that profile engenders within seconds? But she does. It is a small, burning coal of something that must be smothered.
PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALES - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON
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seafoamdew · 6 months
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When your betrothed is a dragon obsessed nerd and you just wanna give him flowers but don’t want to interrupt him.
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youneedsomeprompts · 10 days
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~ IS THIS REALLY MEANT TO BE? ~ enemies to lovers arranged marriage PROMPTS
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requested by: anonymous request: Would you do arranged marriage prompts but they like hate each other? Aka enemies to lovers arranged marriage. Like they bicker and fight a lot at the start but are like "damn them for actually having a point" idk I really love all your prompts and I am forever in your debt for the amount of writers blocks they've/you've gotten me out of!!! ❤️❤️
Feel free to use and reblog!
Part 1: 10 marriage of convenience prompts Part 2: ~ IT'S FATE, RIGHT? ~ ARRANGED MARRIAGE PROMPTS
"I hate you and I won't even pretend to like you." "Well, you're in a pretty shitty situation then. We're stuck together."
"You're the worst person. I can't believe I have to spend the rest of my life with you."
"If you weren't so disagreeable you'd actually make a good spouse."
"I would like spending time with you if you weren't my spouse/wife/husband."
"I need some time for myself FOR ONCE!"
"Why did it have to be you? Anyone really would have been a better choice!"
"Do you think you can let me speak for once? It's not just your marriage. We're both in it. Unfortunately."
"Stop suffocating me! It won't make me like you more."
"But is the prospect of a life shared really only horrible? Can't we find something good in it?"
"Do you sense that? Is it possible that this is the first nice moment we spend together?" "Don't jinx it!"
they feel aggravated whenever their spouse is there but when their spouse is gone they feel strangely empty
they notice how they want to tell their spouse everything that's happening, even though they don't like them
they hate the forced proximity but they hate it even more to be alone
their spouse is so different from them but over time, they learn to appreciate their spouse's unique strengths
they realise that they might actually make a good team
when they have to spend time together they stay silent because every conversation would turn into a big fight
they have strangely romantic dreams about their spouse, even though they can't stand them
after a while, they write nice things about their spouse into their diary
^ their spouse finds the diary and reads it (bonus: they're confronting their spouse and an argument about trust-breaking and hidden feelings ensues)
they would never call it love but they're having these strange butterflies in their stomach whenever their spouse enters the room
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