Tumgik
#should i tag his wife? ill tag his wife
feelo-fick · 16 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
miscellaneous au doodles + a VERY self indulgent song lyric comic :D
+ extra evil comic below the cut :
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"chil!" "don't look at me like that..."
197 notes · View notes
saintobio · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
sincerely yours. (10)
Tumblr media
↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 
tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,
notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3
Tumblr media
series masterlist -> episode eleven
Tumblr media
“It’s a little weird.”
What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming. 
She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be. 
Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now? 
If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place? 
She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you. 
But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life? 
Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all. 
Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that? 
“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”
“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”
The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”
I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?” 
“Was he like that with you before?” 
“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”
To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty. 
“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.” 
Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.
“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”
“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point. 
Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?” 
The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.” 
“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”
The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.” 
Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”
“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”
“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.” 
He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.” 
As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet. 
The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.  
Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”
Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”
“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused. 
To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?” 
Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons. 
Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare. 
— —
You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction. 
To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.
You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband? 
She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married. 
Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.
Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else. 
Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.
If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.
Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu. 
You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal. 
It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her. 
As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman. 
And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong. 
Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.
Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own. 
Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.
If only you could be like her. 
As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.
“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.” 
A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?
“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse. 
“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”
Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line. 
“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots. 
The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.” 
Oh… “He bought more than one?” 
Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony. 
“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”
Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.  
This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi. 
There was no you in that vision anymore. 
The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.
You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband? 
Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one. 
At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free. 
Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them. 
You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest. 
Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?
“Giddy up!” 
Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.
My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy. 
Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.  
“Ah!” 
Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part. 
“Willow!” 
You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.
“Nooo! Willow, no!”
Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.
You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell. 
“Willow!” 
Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness! 
You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all. 
That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon. 
— —
“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.
“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”
He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”
“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”
“Y/N?”
“Y/N!”
“Are you out of your mind?!” 
You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.
“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”
“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”
“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!” 
“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!” 
The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension. 
“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.” 
You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”
Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you. 
With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.” 
To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place. 
“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.” 
Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy. 
“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?” 
There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.
But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat. 
Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.
“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.” 
Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.” 
“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”
“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…” 
Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest. 
“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.” 
Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind. 
It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right? 
You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again. 
You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself. 
As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.” 
That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever? 
Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy. 
The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital. 
So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you? 
“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed. 
Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.” 
You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son. 
Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?
If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined. 
And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse. 
Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself? 
The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage. 
You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family. 
Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight. 
“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.” 
You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?” 
The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it. 
“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.” 
Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else. 
Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired. 
“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?” 
She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.” 
“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?” 
“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.” 
You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists. 
Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there. 
And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi. 
“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”
You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera? 
You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet. 
“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.” 
Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.” 
Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life. 
Both choices had no happy endings. 
— —
When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind. 
Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were? 
He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse. 
“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!” 
“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?” 
Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him? 
According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them. 
And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you. 
Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in. 
How sickeningly sweet. 
At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality. 
It was out of love that he let you go. 
You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too. 
Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife. 
You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore. 
So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses? 
She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you. 
He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off. 
And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries. 
This woman was all he needed. 
But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider. 
— —
The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important. 
Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it? 
You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman. 
Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you. 
How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it? 
Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar. 
How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life? 
Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate? 
God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third? 
You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing. 
“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions. 
It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him. 
“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”
Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you? 
“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.” 
Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.
“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”
You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget? 
As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?” 
“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart.  “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.” 
“Y/N.”
“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”
“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.” 
“But—”
“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”
— —
It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore. 
Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now. 
He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway. 
As for you, well… 
“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?” 
He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”
Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire. 
These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor. 
A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon? 
Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news. 
“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.” 
Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?” 
By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy. 
“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son. 
“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.” 
Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?” 
Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.” 
Monaco? Why would you be there?
Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?” 
“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”
No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself? 
Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here. 
Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth. 
“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?
“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”
How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over? 
“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”
Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now? 
Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces? 
Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.” 
He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.
Yet none of it was given. 
And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi? 
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
chrisevansonly · 2 months
Text
Playing With Fire
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Max Verstappen x Female Reader
summary: you and stella are max’s world, and he’d be damned if he let his father speak ill of either of you.
warnings: angst, jos (ew), angry max, slight mentions of crying, fluff at end
a/n: this is a re-upload to see if it shows up in the tags 🥲
When Stella was born, it was one of the best days ever for Max, seeing his baby girl come into the world, and the way she practically latched onto him from the minute she was welcomed into the family. He knew right then and there he would be the absolute best father to his daughter, just as he was the best husband to you, and always had been.
If there was one thing Max nor you completely enjoyed it was family events when everyone got together, including Jos. Max’s father.Max and his father have a complicated relationship, in a way they seem close but there’s always that edge to his dad that keeps all of you on the edge of your seat. You in particular seemed to still be an issue to him, and every once in a while, you’d become the punching bag at the dinner table.
Stella was sleeping in your arms as you sat next to Max at the dinner table, Jos across from you both and his mother on the other end with the rest of his family and some friends that had joined for the monthly get together.
“So when is the next Verstappen coming?” His father asked looking at you. Stella was only 6 months old so you and Max were happy to just enjoy the time you have with her now, not even thinking about another baby.
“Oh, well i’m sure someday we’ll have another…”
“We’re in no rush” Max butted in, assuming it would stop his father’s line of questioning.
“Yes well, it’s just you had a baby girl…there has to be a boy in the equation…”
You furrowed your brows, fixing Stella’s blanket as she continued to sleep, oblivious to the rising tensions in the room.
“I don’t think so? There’s nothing wrong with having girls..”
“Who’s supposed to carry on the name?”
Max sat up straighter, his hand squeezing your knee gently
“Stella will just as our next baby will eventually, regardless of their gender.”
Jos shook his head taking a sip of his water as he sighed, before looking back at you.
“All i’m saying is you should be trying for a boy.”
“Well it doesn’t work that way.”
The table was getting quieter as the father and son squared off, Jos not backing down and Max not about to let his father attack you in anyway. Not on his watch.
“I knew the second you had a daughter it would make you weak, let alone marrying her and having that baby! She’s useless if she can’t have a boy! You’re wasting your time Max, I knew from the second I met her it would ruin our family.”
Used to his harassment you didn’t cry, but it didn’t stop tears from welling up in your eyes as you almost deflated in a way, hugging Stella closer to your chest. The minute your eyes looked to Max, long gone was his soft stare and gentle smile, replaced was a look almost predatory as he looked to his father.
“Watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking about the mother of my child.”
“Max-”
“No, get out.”
“Excuse me?” Jos’s eyes widened and he shook his head
“GET THE HELL OUT!”
Max yelled, slamming his hands down on the table, seconds later Stella stirring before whimpering in your arms. The dutchman froze and looked apologetically at you as you excused yourself to go up to the nursery, only then turning back to look at his father.
“If you ever so much as think about speaking about my wife and daughter again, it’ll be me coming after you. Now get the fuck out.”
Jos didn’t even offer to say anything else, pushing back his chair and storming out, effectively cutting the dinner to an end as everyone left, Max’s mother sticking around to help clean up and of course comfort you afterwards. She had always been close to you and Max and in a way she was like a mother to you too.
“Baby?”
Turning at the sound of your husbands voice you smiled, still holding Stella in your arms, only this time she was much calmer, her eyes lighting up as she spots her dad.
“Hi, everything okay?”
“I should be asking you that…”
Shrugging you let him take Stella from you, his demeanour much more relaxed with his baby girl in his arms as he placed a few kisses to her cheeks.
“I know what your father is like, yes it hurts but I love you and you love me and that’s all that matters…we have a beautiful baby girl, and that man will never be able to change what we have.”
Max nods, bringing you into his side and leaning down to kiss you softly
“You’re right, he can’t. I’ll never let him ever disrespect you like that ever again. No matter what I have to do.”
“I know you won’t Maxie…and I love you very much for it, Stella too, huh baby?”
Stroking her cheek gently she babbled happily, leaning on Max’s shoulder, her hand patting his chest gently
“My girls…I love you both so much, i’ll always protect you both, with my everything.”
Nothing else needed to be said in the moment, all Max needed was his girls and he felt whole. Nothing else mattered because to him he had everything he’d ever wanted in his life. Despite what he went through growing up, Jos had never made his heart turn cold, he made it big enough to hold the love he had for you two, and would always hold, no matter what happened.
Besides, everyone knew messing with the Verstappen girls, was playing with fire.
2K notes · View notes
Text
Losing Dogs
Neither you or Aegon wanted to get married. Neither you or Aegon wanted to marry each other. But at some point, you figured you should make the most of what you had, and so you offer your husband a deal he cannot refuse.
Aegon Targaryen x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage/loveless marriage, smut (piv, virginity loss, rough/loveless sex) DD:DNE, alcoholism, violence, suicide/suicidal thoughts & ideation, mentions of domestic/child abuse, death, pregnancy/misarrange, aegon's mommy issues, insecurities, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: ... i had something to say about this fic but i forgot... maybe ill remember later???? edit: i did not remember. i thought of mitski while entitling this so go play i bet on losing dogs ig?
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @azperja @sloanexx @risefallrise
Tumblr media
You don't know what you have until it's gone.
Aegon only truly understood what this meant the day he was married and he was forbidden to drink a drop of alcohol.
As if it wasn't painful enough that he was going to be married to a complete stranger from some house he's never fucking heard of, he was erratic and uneasy the whole day because of the withdrawal. He loathes the preparation, the ceremony, the fucking pageantry of it all.
He thinks it was worse that you seemed to be so chipper the entire time. You smiled with a halo, skin shining with the light. You also seemingly did no wrong, judging by the praises you received from his mother and grandfather. But, who was he kidding, of course they fucking loved you, they chose you to be his prison keeper.
You did not press him once, not when you were preparing for the ceremony, not when you were at the feast, not even after the Queen encouraged you to dance.
Anyone with eyes could see from how he slumped on his chair during dinner that Aegon would rather die than circle around the room to this grating noise echoing the room.
The band begins to play another song and another round of dancing ensues.
He stares at the food on the table. Oh, to be a suckling pig.
The relief that coursed through him when he could finally leave was enough to knock him out. Except, he really wanted, no, needed a drink.
He crashes on his bed, belly down, and reaches for the cabinet door on his bedside table. He feels for his bottle, hand knocking into the corners of the compartment, but he sits up when he finds nothing.
He growls in frustration upon realizing this was definitely his mother's doing. Thief!
"I managed a cup."
Aegon struggles to look over his shoulder from his position. He rolls on his back as you walk to the side of the bed.
He stares at you. You offer a glass holding burgundy liquid. Your voice is soft and kind as you explain, "your mother would suspect me if I took a whole bottle."
Aegon pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. He gulps at the wine you were offering.
Sure, he may not be the brightest, but anyone could tell this scene was the epitome of ulterior motives. Aegon leans on his thighs, "why are you doing this?"
You stare a moment. You clutch the cup in both hands and examine it. Again, your voice is gentle, "you are clearly in torment. It hurts my heart."
His eye twitches.
I see. It seems you were a fucking saint.
Aegon rips the glass out of your hands, some of the wine spills over. He downs the contents in one go, then chucks the glass across the room once he finished.
He looks back at you, glaring with watery eyes. He was exhausted, he was angry, and he wanted you to know it. But you don't flinch at the sound of the glass breaking. You didn't flinch at all when he showed aggression. Why didn't you flinch?
You press your lips and sigh. You step towards him and reach out.
He nervously straightens up and tilts his head back as you approach. His breath hitches when your warm hand touches his cheek. He blinks rapidly.
"It's been a long day. Would you like me to help you change?"
Again, his eye twitches.
And then he realizes what you mean.
Ah. So, this is what you wanted?
He releases a breath, eyes lowering. Your face falls into a slight frown.
He thinks about it for a moment. I mean, sex was sex and he was game. It didn't matter how he performed, his completion was all that mattered, really. And you were pretty enough, albeit irritatingly good.
When you stroke his hair, Aegon pulls at your skirts, causing you to squeak and topple, hands flying to his shoulders for support. Your faces are inches apart. He pulls you down until you have no other choice than to sit on his lap.
You can smell the remnants of the wine he just drank on his breath. Aegon brings his face closer to yours, and you let out a soft 'hmp'. You mutter, "I gather you don't want to change, but want to get out of your clothes."
He narrows his eyes as you shift on his lap and undo the buttons by his chest. He mutters dumbly, "this is what you wanted."
With knit brows, you retort, "I've not yet told you what I wanted." You shift on his lap again as you peel his top off. Amidst it, he asks, "what do you want?"
You grunt after ridding him of his top. You fold it in your arms then set it aside on the bed. You turn back to him. Aegon's breath hitches when you fondle with strings of his undershirt. He watches your lips as you mumble, "I want you to give me a ride on your dragon."
He furrows his brows. But that's what he just said.
You stand, only to lift your skirt and take your place back on his lap. This time, you straddle him.
Aegon gulps, hands coming to your hips like a magnet. He feels you grind on him; shaky breaths leave his lips in response. His hands scratch up your back and a moan escapes him when your nails trace his collarbones.
"Allow me one trip on Sunfyre, and in return, I'll be your magic lamp," you whisper, taking one of his hands, bringing it to the side of your ribs, "you may rub me where you like-"
His heart skips when you kiss his cheek.
"-and I will grant you all your wishes."
Aegon ticks.
The next moment, he pushes you down on the bed. He doesn't bother getting either of you naked, nor does he prepare you at all in fact. Thankfully, you were already wet.
You don't have the opportunity to ask him to be gentle, to explain you were a bride after all, and it was your wedding night.
Aegon grips your skirts as he fucks you like he means to prove a point. He snaps his hips roughly into you to assert dominance, to exemplify control. Sure, you offered yourself to him, but he was the one doing the work, and you were the one beneath him.
In truth, the pace he set gave you more pain rather than pleasure. And with how pent up he was, the rough tempo he set burnt him out way too quickly before it could make any of you feel good. And when he begins to lag, you start to feel good.
You notice this change and rub your nose against his. He recoils, unused to affection when fucking. It snaps him back into an aggressive trance.
You yelp. Aegon convinced himself it was a sound of bliss.
You kiss his jaw and work your way to his ear, hoping to calm him down. He tenses at the feel of your tongue on his lobe. It stokes flames in his belly and makes him involuntarily roll his hips slower to focus on the attention you're giving. In return, his pace is just enough for him to hit that spot that makes you throw your head back.
Aegon is startled by the scratchy groan that leaves your throat. He finds himself lifting his head to spectate, but you pull him into you by the nape and groan, "like that. Please- gods - that feels good."
His brows tense and he rolls his hips again, finding the same reaction.
You wrap your arms and legs around him, uncaring of how hot and sweaty you were getting. In the heat of the moment, you reach for his lips, needing them, needing something to wrap your own on.
Aegon kisses you. He kisses you with a strange twinge in his chest. He kisses you until he has to pull away and reposition himself to catch his building climax.
In a second, he's back to his fuck-loving self, only self-serving and lustful. As he gazes upon your writhing body, catching the beads of sweat on your skin, the concentration on your face, and the way you chant his name as you part your legs for him, he's overcome by another spirit. To watch you break, to watch you coil and collapse around him felt just as urgent as his need to come.
And so Aegon rubs your clit and forces you to peak first; you do it so well he curses loudly and comes after.
He lays on top of you for a moment, the overwhelming need to be held ripples through his body. He recalls how his whores shoo him away after he's done fucking them though. Before you can cradle him in your arms, he rolls off you.
You close your legs and and watch him strip himself and sequentially change. You watch him get back in bed and bring himself underneath the covers. He goes to sleep.
He fucking goes to sleep.
You feel hollow after this, but tell yourself it's nothing personal. You repeat this as you, yourself, get up and change, sequentially sleeping too. Or at least you try. You have fight the urge to cry for hours before you do.
The next morning, you bring up dragon riding to Aegon, and disappointed as you are, you are unsurprised to find that he was unwilling to give you such a thing.
It was a plain thing you were asking for, you explain. And it's exactly why he doesn't want to do it. It's clearly some trick, something to trap him, something he's going to regret. It was probably some ploy orchestrated by his mother.
Oh gods, he thinks, it's worse. It's a bonding experience so you can make him into your puppet. Fuck. No.
So, he does what he does best, and makes an excuse, "I don't feel like riding today. I'm still exhausted from the festivities."
You purse your lips and nod, "that's understandable. Would you like for me to get you something?"
Wait. You weren't going to argue about him not keeping his end of the deal?
You seem to catch this, considering your response and the way you take his hand. You place his palm on your chest. He can feel your pulse quicken as you mutter, "I am your magic lamp, husband. I wish to please you. I will prove this until you trust me enough to grant me a ride on dragonback."
He narrows his eyes, "you would grant me wishes, all in return for a ride on Sunfyre?"
You smile softly at him, "in return for respite, yes."
He doesn't trust your smile.
"I want to visit the Grey Cliffs. I have for a years now. I went there once as a child and long to go again."
"Why?" he knits his brows at your explanation, "what's there?"
You lower his hand and rub his skin, "respite, my prince."
Aegon pulls his hand away.
Very well. If that is what you want, then he will wear your wishes dry until you find it no longer worth the trouble.
Aegon wishes on his lamp everyday, and his wife sequentially plays entertainer, jester, servant, and slave.
He makes you bring a bottle of wine with you everywhere, and pour him a cup when he wishes. He loathes how you seem unbothered by it. He loathes how you don't even correct a visiting Lord who mistakes you for a cupbearer and simply serve him some wine. The Lord is mortified when he realizes you are his wife, a fucking princess. Aegon hates how you tell the man you were unbothered because you spent your whole life being a cupbearer to your father anyway.
He makes you do trivial tasks as well, sometimes tasks meant for more than one person at a time, and yet you still manage to do them, annoyingly better than the maids. When he demanded you cook him a full course meal, you did so all by yourself, and had the servants looking at you like you were some goddess.
He ripped a hole in his clothes then made you mend it. You covered the hole so seamlessly that he poked a bigger one right in front of you. And even then you don't give him the satisfaction of getting angry. You tell him you will embroider something on top of the hole and he storms off. He overhears you telling the servants, who applaud your level-headedness, that you were used to angry men, because your father was just the same.
You use each of these moments to somehow tell him you were the perfect wife and he had to oblige your stupid request at some point.
But then he found your flaw.
Aegon asked you to play the harpsichord for him, and you told him you did not know how. The woman who knew all did not know something? He would then proceed to hang this over your head. When he asked you for food, he'd tell you how much better it'd taste if he had entertainment. If he asked you to do something physically taxing for him, he's say that he wouldn't have asked you to do it, had you known how to play his 'favorite' instrument. He would use this as the reason why he could never bring you to Grey Cliffs.
It was all fun and games, but then you had to snitch, hadn't you?
"What are you doing to that poor girl!" Queen Alicent barked, making his ears ring.
Aegon groans from where he lies in bed. His mother rips the blankets off him, making him wake in a sour mood.
"She is your wife!" Alicent yells, "not your slave! Fine, you wish her to do tasks for you, tasks for your betterment. But to insult her standing by treating her like a maid is beneath a prince, Aegon!"
Aegon feels his throat tighten at the sight of his angry mother's face, "she is my wife," he growls, "I do with her as I please."
She strikes his cheek.
Aegon's head whips to the side. He doesn't have the energy to look back at her.
"You will no longer parade her as a cupbearer. I will have it decreed you are not ever served a drop of wine if you don't."
Alicent leaves after this. Aegon's anger explodes when the door closes.
He screams and rips at his hair. He kicks furniture around and eventually drops to the floor, exhausted, furious, and hurt. This was all your fault.
He screams again and claws the tears on his face. He slowly exhales through tight lips. His cheek is hot with saltwater. Who was he joking, this was all him.
This was all Aegon's doing.
His breathing is impeded by snot. He walks over to his window and stares at the ground below. If he jumps head first, not even the best maester in Westeros could fix him.
Before he can lean on the ledge, he is paralyzed in his spot by the sound of the door opening.
"I did not know she would be angry with you," you say.
Aegon looks back.
You see his red eyes and wet skin. He is a mirror to your younger self. You feel sick to your stomach. You try to explain, "I only asked if she could find a harpsichord teacher. I did not realize she would take offense in wanting to learn to play for you."
Aegon's heart aches at your naïve response. You were a stupid, perfect wife, and he, a stupid, petulant husband.
"I'm better off dead," he mumbles, looking back out the window. The call of the fall felt inviting, "want to push me, wife?"
You don't respond.
Aegon looks back at you, and suddenly you're only inches away. He tries to evade you, but you manage to catch his hand.
"We could jump together."
"What?"
Your face is blank. You part your lips, and for a moment, your eyes seem desperate, but then it's gone. You sigh, "dying is quite lonely," looking down, "I could keep you company."
Aegon stares at you. Tears stream down his face. "You're mad," he sniffles, yanking his hand away.
He walks over to his bed and collapses on it. He wraps himself in a blanket and feels sorry for himself, and angry at you for suggesting such a thing. Even now you want to be perfect by dying with him?
"I am," you mutter.
Aegon watches as you walk over to him. You sit on the floor beside his bed and look at your hands as you rub them.
"I cannot play the harpsichord, because my father does not like noise," you explain, "I was not allowed to make a sound or else I would be punished."
Aegon covers his head with a blanket but keeps his face visible, "he beat you, didn't he?"
You look at him, eyes melancholy, but still, he is the only one crying, "he beat everyone."
Aegon does not respond.
"I can sing though."
His brow raises, "how can you sing?"
"I would practice whenever he was gone, and sing for my mother in secret. It made her happy... happy enough."
He knew there was more to this confession, but he was too tired to ask about it, too tired to shed more tears.
"Would you like me to sing for you?"
"No."
"..."
"..."
"Would you like me to hold you?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
You stand from where you sat and get on the edge of the bed. Aegon watches as you slowly lie beside him. You bring an arm over him and pull him close. Aegon closes his eyes as you bring him into your chest.
You hold him until he falls asleep. Later that night, he asks you to hold him again. He also asks you to sing to him.
Aegon nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps his arms around your torso, digging his fingers between your flesh and the bed. Your hushed voice reverberates in the bedroom, the song you sing is haunting and soothing. The vibrations from your chest lull him to sleep. You feel wetness pool by your clavicle but you make no note of it.
Aegon asks you to hold him the next morning after breaking fast. He asks you to stay with him in bed and to sing to him some more. When you have to leave his side, he asks to join you and waits until he can have you in his arms again.
Aegon becomes your shadow, and follows you around, under the promise of getting to share in your embrace. As you read and review letters or ledgers, your seat becomes Aegon's lap. He sleeps against you while you work without a fuss, cheek pressed against your back, arms fastened around your waist.
Sometimes, he notices the line that forms between your brows while you read and at some point, asks about it. You explain what causes it, and he is unmoved, as he is uninterested in politics that stress you. But when you read out to him, he finds comfort in your voice and asks you to read some. He falls asleep to your calm droning of circumstances he could not care less about. He groans and groggily awakens when you stop. He mumbles against your skin that you continue, pleadingly so.
When you had to leave the Keep for business, Aegon insisted that he joined you. When you brushed his cheek and explained to him why he could not go and that you would not be long, Aegon pushed you away and stormed off. You left without him anyway, and the treachery he felt was so great, he realized then how he could no longer go day to day without you. What was there to do, if you were not there?
And so Aegon desperately rubs his magic lamp and wishes upon you.
He wishes that you never leave without him again once you return.
He wishes that you promise to no longer make plans without him.
He traps you beneath him on your shared bed and wishes to be inside you. He kisses you and wishes to see you completely bared to him.
Aegon's mind is dizzy as he gazes upon the glory of your skin. He kisses your thighs, your hips, your breast, your lips.
Aegon wishes to surrender to you. He wishes that you undress him then pulls you on his body like a blanket. He wishes to see you take control. He wishes to see you cast your eyes upon him and lay your weight on his body.
He wishes to see you use him, to take what you need from him, to pleasure yourself, and to make him yours. He squeezes your thighs desperately when you moan out his name. This was much more maddening that what he imagined it would be.
He wishes to feel you come undone around him. He wishes he could forever feel the pleasure he did when he comes right after you do.
He wishes to hold you after. And when he holds you, when you lay on his chest and kiss him there, he wishes to never leave this moment ever again. He wishes to sing to you like you've sung to him.
"What are your plans tomorrow," Aegon asks as he draws nothings on your back.
You lift your head from his chest. He looks at you. You smile, "whatever you wish them to be."
He rubs your back and smiles, "I wish to take you to the Grey Cliffs."
Your expression drops, "what?"
He raises a brow at your reaction. You shift on your place. You straddle him again.
He looks up at you, noticing the line between your brows. He rubs your thighs, "you've granted me all my wishes. It's time I grant you yours." He shifts on his elbows and sits himself up, "it's time you meet my mount and-"
"We don't have to," you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders.
Aegon examines your expression. He listens to you sigh.
"I'd like to keep you-- wish to keep you..." you correct yourself, pushing him back down.
He looks up at you, feeling your hands rake up his body.
"...just like this," you finish, eyes solemn, lips curving into a soft smile, "I've not felt a thing like this in my entire life."
Aegon takes one of your hands and places it on his cheek. He whispers it like a secret, "neither have I."
You lean down to kiss him, "I wish to keep like this."
He kisses you back.
He is blindsided by how his wishes come to bite him in the arse. It's all crashing down on him. Suddenly, he wishes he didn't actually do any of those things with you.
He most of all wishes he heard you wrong. He wishes you didn't repeat yourself when he stupidly said, "what?"
"I'm with child," you speak slower, less excited yet excited still.
Aegon wishes you didn't look so excited. He wishes he fucking pulled out, but gods, you felt so good-- you feel so good around him, he felt so good inside you.
He realized the next moment, it couldn't be helped. You were going to have to bear his kids at one point or another. He wishes you didn't have to. He wishes his seed wouldn't take completely. He wishes you don't take it to term. He wishes he won't have to be a father. Fuck.
He realizes he's been too quiet and you were waiting for a response from him. Your face began to twist. Your smile fades.
"Congratulations," Aegon musters. He feels like he swallowed a metal ball. His eyes wander to your belly. He mumbles mindlessly, "I suppose."
Your face falls.
Aegon looks back at you. Your face is devoid of any semblance of the glow it normally holds. You look sick. You feel sick.
"I see," you say, unintentionally allowing him to hear your voice break. Aegon's brows furrow at it.
He shakes his head, "you will be a great mother," he chuckles dryly, "you mother me so well."
You offer him a smile, but Aegon can see how disconnected it was from your eyes. You say, "thank you."
When you leave him after this, he wishes he hadn't said a word. He wishes he just left it at congratulations. He wishes he just pretended like the idea of having a child didn't mortify him and make him sick to his stomach. He wishes he wasn't so ill-suited to be a father.
Ageon no longer wishes for anything after this.
He no longer wishes to hold you, though he so badly wanted to. He no longer wishes to hear you sing, nor does he wish to hear you read to him. He no longer wishes to be around you, though his body urged him to follow you around like the lost soul he was.
He wishes he didn't wonder what you were doing at every moment of the day. He so desperately wishes to rid you from his mind completely that he drowns himself in his first and only true love, alcohol.
Fuck. He wishes he hadn't taken this route to his room. He wishes you hadn't taken this route to wherever it was you were going. He wishes he just turned around and fled like the coward he was, because then, you wouldn't have spoken to him.
"Husband," you curtsey.
Aegon stiffens and uncomfortably avoids your eyes.
You catch it, feeling your chest tighten painfully. You clear your throat and take a deep breath to steel yourself, "I thought you should know that I will be travelling."
Aegon looks at you.
"I have a ship ready and I'll be visiting the Grey Cliffs. Do not wait up for me."
His face falls. He opens his mouth, but doesn't have an opportunity to speak.
"I thought you should also know that I am no longer carrying."
His eyes widen.
"It's not an uncommon occurrence the first few months," you say simply, "I suppose the gods do not wish me to be a mother."
Aegon feels like a murderer. He wants to say something, to apologize, to comfort you, but he can't. He's too taken aback to do a single thing.
He turns into stone when you take his hand. You step forward and place his palm on your chest. Your heart is slow as you speak, "you won't have to worry about anything anymore, Aegon. Today is the end of our shared torment."
Aegon's stomach drops when you kiss him.
His eyes are glassy. You pull away before you can kiss him back. He wants to hold you, but the sadness in your eyes reminds him he is undeserving. You kiss his wrist, "goodbye, my love. I love you."
His heart thumps as you walk away.
Aegon is manic. He basks in the mess he's made and feels crushed by it all.
He finally acts after wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself. You were long out of his sight by the time he started running. This is why he headed to the dragonpit and got on Sunfyre.
"WAIT!" he screams, just as your boat leaves the dock.
Aegon watches as you run to the edge of the boat. He lands Sunfyre and runs as far to the edge of the docks as he could.
"Aegon-"
"Take me with you!" he pleads, "let me be the one to take you to where you must go!"
You look back. The ship stops. The crew brings down a boat and on it, you are rowed back to the dock.
He crushes you in his arms once he reaches you.
"Aegon," you mutter.
"Forgive me," he shudders, "I... I wish you let me do this for you."
"Aegon," your voice croaks. You push him away, "go home."
His heart drops. He breaks away to look at you. Your words feel like a stab at his thorax. It was presumptuous of him to assume you'd want him back, but it doesn't kill him inside any less.
"I've come to realize this is a trip I must go on myself," you mutter.
He shakes his head, "no. Please." He motions an arm out to his mount, "one wish. That I grant you one wish before you throw me away forever is... is--"
Your throat constricts at his words. Tears rush down your eyes, "I'm not throwing you away--"
"Please," he squeezes both your hands in his, "please, let me do this for you."
The flight to the Grey Cliffs is quiet, save for the whoosh of winds and the roars of the golden dragon you both rode. You always imagined it would be freeing, but only now did you know how it freeing it truly felt to fly. You knew now you'd forever chase the euphoric crush of air against your skin.
Aegon, who sat behind you, looks at your form as you outstretch your arms and close your eyes. Your body presses against him, and in this moment, he is unable to hold back from wrapping an arm around you and sparing a kiss on your shoulder. You are snapped out of your trance because of this.
The Grey Cliffs are dark and gloomy when you get there. Aegon realizes when you land that it got its name from the weather conditions.
He helps you down and surveys the area, trying to make out which part of this drear land was so special to you that you wished to go here.
You catch his expression and squeeze his hand.
Aegon turns to you.
You give a solemn look, "the view is better on the edge."
Aegon strokes Sunfyre's cheek, commanding him to stay before you lead him by the hand to the edge of the cliff. Once you get there, he feels queasy looking down at the crashing waves far beneath him. In contrast, you seem comforted by the view. His brows furrow at the deep breath you give out.
When you look at him, his stomach feels it, the comfort you felt upon witnessing the violent waves. Whatever it was that compelled you to this place was the same force that compelled him to kiss you.
He reaches out for your cheek, his other hand coming to you back. He pulls you close. His heart twinges when you stop him from kissing you.
"Aegon-"
"Forgive me," he cuts, "I beg."
You gawk at him. He brushes your hair which was wildly flinging with the breeze.
"You must know by now that I am craven. I lack the spine and the wit to be of any use to you."
Your eyes water. Your lips quiver.
"I would be a hopeless father, worse than my own, no doubt."
"Aegon," you babble as sobs overtake you.
Aegon, himself, succumbs to tears. He wipes the ones streaming down your face before taking a breath, "but you made me feel a love I do not deserve."
You swallow a heavy lump in your throat.
"I love you," he confesses.
"No," you pierce his heart. You shake your head in disagreement, "Aegon, this is a mistake. Bringing you here was a mistake."
"No!" he blurts louder than needed, "this was a choice," he looks down, "I choose to rip my insides out for you to devour. I am miserable, much more in the heat of your hate, but most of all without you."
His downturned eyes land on your face when you grab his wrists. You croak, "I do not hate you."
Aegon is not relieved by the admission, but he chooses to believe you mean it. He smiles softly, "good."
"But I do hate this life I live."
He clenches his jaw. Of course you do.
"You saved me," you press a hand on his cheek, taking your turn to wipe his tears, "even if for a moment."
"I made you miserable."
You chuckle. The sound makes his heart skip.
"You filled my life with purpose," you smile softly, "even when you did not mean to."
Aegon knits his brows deeply and takes your hands. He brings them to his lips and kisses them.
"But accidents happen. You must remember that accidents happen all the time."
Aegon shakes his head, "this is not an accident. Believe me when I say I chose to do this, I- ... I choose to love you."
You sob and turn to your feet.
"Please... believe me."
You sniffle and nod, slowly looking up at him, "I believe you."
You lunge into his arms and seal him into a tight hug. He hugs you back like it's his only way of surviving.
A crack of thunder startles Sunfyre. He becomes restless and steals away Aegon's attention, panicked that he might flee and leave them here.
He pulls away and takes a step towards her. He holds your hand, urging you to follow, "we should go before it rains."
You hug him from behind and press your face into his back, "thank you for taking me on Sunfyre."
"It was a long time coming."
"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly. And now that I know how peaceful it is, I'm ready to fly one last time."
He turns to you as you slowly come to his side. You hold his hand. He looks at you as you turn to Sunfyre. He promises, "I will take you on dragonback as many times as you wish."
You smile, but your eyes are fixed on his dragon. You release his hand and wrap your arms around yourself, "he is beautiful. You must never tire looking at him."
Aegon gazes upon Sunfyre. He takes in his golden scales and has newfound appreciation.
You take a step back.
"He is. To be honest, it's been long since I, myself, took him out of the pit. He must enjoy this day as much as you do."
"Aegon, you must understand that what I have to say has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."
Aegon turns to you. He watches you tighten your arms around yourself. You must be cold. He rubs your shoulders.
You shake your head and turn him back to his dragon, "look at Sunfyre."
He knits his brows, "I'm looking."
"For so long," you release him, "I've wanted to fly free, to find my peace here in the cliffs. This was before I even met you." You point at the golden dragon, "I choose to love you too, but accidents happen, like if Sunfyre were to fly away, and you were to be left here alone."
Aegon stares at his ride for a moment as you lower your hand. He tries to makes sense of your words, but he cannot for the life of him understand.
He sighs, "what accident? Why do you keep-"
Aegon is flooded by confusion when he turns and finds you nowhere behind him. A split second later, he lets a horrified scream and the fear that claws into him makes his knees buckle. He crumbles to the ground and crawls to the edge of the cliff. He screams so loud that Sunfyre roars back and comes towards him.
Aegon watches as the red seafoam bubbles at the foot of the cliff. He watches as the crimson waves slowly slosh back into its original tint.
Rain begins to pour, and his tears taste no longer salty.
Was this the flying you ached for? Was this the relief you sought?
When he returns to King's Landing, dripping wet, he breaks down in front of his mother, weeping as he clutched his skirts.
Queen Alicent is obviously disturbed. She instructs her servants to get his son a change of clothes and some towels. She looks down at him, "what's happened? What's wrong, Aegon?"
"An accident-" he barely manages to say, "there's been an accident."
"An accident?!"
Aegon's mind goes blank. A bitter taste
You don't know what you have until it's gone.
1K notes · View notes
the-record · 6 months
Text
kissing lessons: 1
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: ellie’s a year older and the smartest girl you know. such a shame she can’t stick around.
song: kissing lessons - lucy dacus
pairing: young!ellie x young!reader
warnings: none????
a/n: this was so fun to write and pt 2 will be out, this lowkey just sets up the next part(s?) also barely proofread, im lazy
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
Tumblr media
“mom, can i go meet ellie?”
“did you finish your dinner?”
you hummed, setting the dirty plate in the sink beside her. “please? i did my homework too. and fed the dog!” she stopped washing dishes and looked to you. “pretty please? with a cherry on top?”
she sighed and rinsed a plate. “alright. but you come right home when the street lights turn on. okay?” you hugged her waist and slipped on shoes before running out the door.
she was waiting for you standing on the seat of a swing. “that looks dangerous!” you called as you ran over.
she turned back, hopping down when she was it was you and sitting properly. “says who?” you rolled your eyes and set at the swing beside her. “did you see mr. anderson today?”
you giggled and nodded. “i feel bad for abby, must be kinda embarrassing to have your dad as principal.” ellie nodded in agreement, humming a tune.
“i dont like abby.” you cocked your head at her, a silent question in your eyes. “she’s such a show off in p.e. and she gets special treatment because of her dad. so unfair.”
you kicked off, sending the swing into motion. “i think she’s smart. and pretty.”
“yea…” ellie joined you, pumping her legs back and forth to get higher. “my uncle’s in town.”
“your uncle?” she nodded, looking forward at the tree line. you thought for a moment before speaking. “have you ever even met him before? what’s he like? is he like mr. miller?”
she smiled softly. “he said to stop calling him mr. miller. said it makes him feel old.”
“he is old!” you both laughed, still flying high in the air.
ellie stopped kicking, though you didnt notice, very slowly losing air. “uncle tommy is nice i guess. his wife scares me a little.” she sighed before turning to you. “i didnt see you at recess, where were you?”
your feet grazed the ground as you came to a stop. “cole asked to play tag.”
“but you hate tag,” ellie said, getting off to stand in front of you. “did you play tag with him?”
you shrugged before nodding. “my mom said i should. says he likes me.” you kicked at the ground, staring at the wood chips moving. “boys chase girls they like.”
ellie huffed and crossed her arms. “but he’s mean, he teases you. all the time!”
“boys are mean to girls they like too.”
“that makes no sense.” she flopped to the ground, arms still crossed across her chest.
you got off the swing, sitting in front of her. “what do boys like?”
“i dont know… kissing i guess.” she averted her gaze as she said it, choosing the ground to focus on.
you were taken aback. kissing? only old people did that, you thought. how do you even kiss? what if he tried to kiss you, and you didnt know how? “do you know how to?”
“what? how to kiss?” you nodded shyly, meeting her eyes. “yeah. i could teach you tomorrow, after school. joel and tommy are going out.” you nodded again. “okay. we’ll walk to my place from the bus stop then.”
the lights flickered on, signaling your time to leave. “i better get going.”
ellie nodded in agreement, getting up and holding out a hand to you. she pulled you in a hug before pushing you towards your house and walking backwards to her own. “ill see you tomorrow!”
you smiled and waved as you both ran home, butterflies fluttering.
Tumblr media
“who is this ellie character?” your mom looked to you in the rearview mirror as she asked.
you smiled, sitting up to tell her. “my friend. she’s a year older than me, but she lives across the street. mr. millers daughter.” your mom hummed as you continued. “she’s really funny and nice. im going over to her house after school today.”
“and mr. miller doesnt mind?” she asked as she pulled into the drop off line.
“no ma’am.”
she parked and turned around, a smile on your face. “alright then. you have a good day, and please be good at the millers.” you nodded grabbing your backpack.
the day dragged as you waited for the bell to dismiss you. when it finally did, you met ellie by the bus, clambering on together.
“i found lip gloss in sarah’s room. she told me i could have it because she didnt use it anymore.” ellie smiled as she told you the plan.
“i wish i had a big sister. sarah is so cool.” you both nodded before moving on to some gossip you’d heard that day.
you entered ellies house hand in hand and she pulled you to her room. giggling as you sat the on the bed, ellie grabbed the gloss from her nightstand and sat in front of you. you tried to keep a straight face as she put it on you, and she tried to when you did the same.
“okay, now do this.” she puckered her lips as you giggled. “c’mon…” you nodded and copied her. “okay. now we lean in and… close our eyes!” you felt nervous as she sat up straight. “ready?”
you both leaned in without a second thought, your lips barely touching before you both pulled away giggling. “this is so weird.” ellie agreed with you, nodding and smiling.
“good weird.”
you ‘practiced’ a couple more times and fell beside each other on her bed.
“was that your first kiss?” you wondered aloud.
she hummed, turning to look at you. “yea. was it yours?”
“yea.”
Tumblr media
“what do you mean you’re moving?”
you jumped up from the bed when ellie gave you her big news. how could she be moving? she couldnt leave you.
“dad says he wants to be closer to uncle tommy. apparently he and maria are… ‘in the family way’ or whatever.” she picked at her cuticles, pressing down on her thumb when it began to bleed.
you groaned and crossed your arms. “thats so unfair!”
ellie’s eyes teared up and you sat down beside her, leaning your head on her shoulder. “im gonna miss you.” you whispered. “a lot.”
“me too.”
Tumblr media
you had to have been mistaken. ellie had moved away so long ago, there was no way she was back. there was always new people filtering in and out of your town, must’ve been one of them.
but mr. miller was harder to excuse.
“ellie, isn’t that your old friend?”
the butterflies crept back in as she turned around, her eyes locking with yours.
“damn. you grew up.”
702 notes · View notes
ghstzzn · 28 days
Text
til kingdom come | choi jongho
pairing: choi jongho x f!reader wc: 6k
summary: being hip to hip with your new bodyguard (technically, your punishment) isn't as bad as you thought.
warnings/tags: fluff, smut, royal au, strangers to lovers, princess reader, fingering, unprotected sex, soft sex tbh, no part 2, idk if i need to add more
note: another re-upload from my deleted account yunho-mp3, if it's familiar, that is why. c:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Biting back yet another yawn, you continue to stare at the map placed on the wall behind your fathers desk. The same big, stupid map of the kingdom your father ruled and this is the fourth time you’ve stared at it this week, except this time it wasn’t for a silly meeting about your future endeavors. More like, your past ones.
“Are you listening, Y/N?” You’re quickly pulled out of your daze. 
“Huh?”
Your father sighs, straightening out his robe while your mother shakes her head in disappointment. “You are to be the lady of another land in the near future. We cannot have you acting like a child.”
“I’m not acting like a child!” You whine back. 
“Child, you will listen to your Mother.” Your father demands and you slump back into your spot on the couch. 
“This is your final warning, as I will no longer tolerate sneaking out!” Your mother begins, “You are a lady of this kingdom and we cannot have you be making a fool of yourself. You are to stay within the walls of this castle.”
You sit up once again, almost too fast for your head. “Not even the gardens?”
“Can we trust you to stop at the gardens?” Your father asks. 
You nod your head violently, sure you were upset about being pretty much locked away, but at least you had the gardens. Your safe place. “I promise.”
Your parents turn to face each other, giving a small nod of approval before facing you again. 
“Once more, Y/N,” Your father gives you a stern look, one that you should be afraid of. “Once more, and I will see to it that your marriage plans come way sooner than you want. I’ve pushed it off for your sake, but I am at my wits end with you, my child.”
You flinch slightly at your fathers threat. You had spent countless nights begging for any marriage plans involving you to be pushed back as far as possible, as you weren’t quite ready to be sold off (though your mother is not a fan of that word.) to some spoiled, ill-mannered son of a Lord who cheats on his wife regularly. They often say, like father, like son. 
“Yes sir.”
And with that you hurriedly walk off to your quarters, not wanting to stick around for any extra scoldings for whatever else you had done wrong in the past week. Though you can't hear it, your parents do continue.
“We are too soft on the child.” 
“You helped create her, my dear husband.” Your mother responds, making her way to him. She now stands behind your father with her hands on his shoulders, softly rubbing circles into his skin. “She reminds me so much of your younger days.”
Your father sighs, “My threat is no joke.”
“I know that, my love. As does she.” 
“Though, I do not wish for the outcome so soon,” your father stands from his chair, “see to it that it does not have to happen.” 
“And I’m too soft on her?” Your mother lets out a giggle, “As you wish, my king.”
“And you are?” You stand in the castle's library face to face with a stranger, a handsome stranger, in light armor. You were about to make your exit before an arm was suddenly thrown in front of your body.
“Choi Jongho, princess.” He looks down at you. Is he seriously glaring? “The queen sent me.”
“And?” You ask, with an obviously annoyed look from his vague answer.
Jongho lowers his arm and straightens out, “I’m from the kingsguard. Starting today, I am to be at your side for almost every minute of the day.”
“What?!” You almost shout from the shock.
“Orders from her majesty, m’lady,” Jongho smirks, “A few complaints about a princess not following mere rules.”
“So, what? You’re to follow me around, up my ass for the rest of my life? Did my mother really send you over this?” You ask, obviously exaggerating the terms of his commands. 
“If that’s what it takes.” He replies, “Though I’m not too interested in following you inside of any washrooms. Unless necessary.”
“It’s not. Plus, I’d command you’d wait outside anyways.” 
“Unfortunately, that is not up to you. My commands are from the queen only.” Jonghos smirk still has not fallen. “Only if you truly need my help or protection, I’m here to watch and protect. Unless of course, I am needed in any of your private rooms, my princess?”
You roll your eyes and scoff, “Gross. And to think you’re of the kingsguard.”
Your eyes glance from the book in your hands to Jonghos face. His stupidly attractive face. He only stands still.
“Every second?” You ask, though it comes out as a whine.
“Almost every second, princess. Not how I’d spend my day but I have a job to do, nevertheless.” He replies, “A punishment for both, I’d say.” 
“I am going to ignore that. And could you drop the noble terms? Not like you answer to my commands, anyways.” 
“Sure.” Jongho says, dropping all formality. (If he even had any.) “Go on.”
You give him one last annoyed glance before making your leave, hearing the soft clank of his light armor as he follows behind. Your father was sure to get an earful later.
Sat in one of the many common rooms of the castle, you read your book, glancing up at the man assigned to you as you flip each page. Though it was hard to read when you could physically feel his eyes on you at times. 
This time you look up, instead of awkward eye contact, you catch him as he watches outside the window, staring into the garden below. You couldn’t deny such beauty that he wore on his face, almost as if the gods took their special time with him. Especially his hair, you could imagine running your fingers through- what? You sigh and return your attention to your book. Not being able to focus, you decide to break the silence.
“What did you do?” You ask suddenly. Jongho turns to you, confusion evident on his face. “You said punishment for us both… What did you do?”
“Is it of your concern?” He asks in return.
The question left you quite flustered. “I just wanted to make conversation. You know, you are going to be watching me for the gods knows how long.”
“I don’t believe I’m here to befriend you.” And with that he returns his attention outside the window once more. Leaving you irritated and flustered. You mumble a few words at him before turning your body to face a different direction than him.
Jongho watches your back. He didn’t have to be rude, no, but he really did not have plans to get close to you. He was to finish this job and get back to his life and friends in the kingsguard. He can already hear the teasing from them, though it's half their fault he’s in this situation anyway.
You really hoped he over exaggerated when he said almost every second, but he meant almost every second. It had been a fortnight since Jongho was commanded to be at your side. The sun had set hours ago and he was currently guarded below your window. You technically didn’t need him in the castle at night, mostly because your sneaking out involved you leaving out the window. You would feel bad but you had seen another guard take Jonghos spot during the night for long hours at a time (you had stayed up multiple times to fact-check yourself.), so you weren't worried too much about the man.
Your days with Jongho were still slightly awkward, as he refused to hold long conversations with you, only answering most of your constant questions. At this point you did it to watch him become annoyed with you. It was payback for your first encounter and him avoiding you otherwise. 
You toss and turn in your large bed before finally sitting up in defeat. You relight the lanterns and candles around your bed and grab a book from your shelf. Plopping back onto your plush bed, you try to focus on the words of your book. With a frustrated sigh you slam the book close after one paragraph. It was moments like this you wish you could crawl out of your window and make your way to the night markets and surround yourself with the people of the kingdom. The music and lights made you feel less lonely and more alive. Or you would sit by the beach, watching the stars disappear as the sun rises, always stealing a bottle of wine from your fathers study for the trip. At least you had the garden.
You sit up from your bed and make your way towards the window, looking down to spot Jongho. You almost feel disappointed to see the other guard instead of the familiar face. Not wanting to ask the unknown guard to accompany you, you decide to just sneak to the gardens by yourself. Though it was allowed, you didn’t want to get caught without Jongho. 
You tiptoe your way through the large castle, shutting doors behind you as softly as you can. You didn’t bring a lantern, in case anyone were to be awake it’d draw too much attention. While continuing your journey to the garden, you hear a loud creek from behind you. Immediately stopping in your tracks, you turn around in a panic. You weren’t sneaking out beyond the garden, but you know it’d be hard to defend yourself when questioned by either of your parents at this moment.
When you hear nothing else, you pull your silk robe closer and turn around. You were greeted by a hard chest, before thinking you were going to scream. In an instant, a hand covers your mouth and your arm is grabbed. You look up at the figure before you start thrashing your body, only to see Jongho. Though it's dark, the moonlight through the large windows illuminates his face just enough for you to not panic.
You slap his chest and he releases his grip on you. “You terrify me!”
“Must I muzzle you?” You hold up your hands to block any further actions from the man in front of you. “What are you doing? Making an escape as soon as you saw I had left?”
“You say that as if I’m held captive.” You reply, “I’d like to sit by the garden.”
“And you were going by yourself?” He questions.
You roll your eyes and walk around Jongho, continuing your walk to the garden. “You may follow, if that's what you want.” 
Jongho stands in his spot as you make your way to the final door leading outside, as soon as you exit, he moves to follow behind. 
You inhale deeply and exhale as you find your spot on the bench. There are a few lanterns keeping the large garden lit, the rest of the lighting was left to the moon. The garden was beautiful, but you found it in its true glory when nobody was around. Silence filled the air as Jongho had made his way to the gazebo where you were sitting.
“Just can’t keep away from me, can you?” you say, softly giggling when he gives no acknowledgment to your words.
You brought your knees up to your chin and studied the way the wind softly blew against the plants. Though Jongho was silent behind you, it wasn’t as awkward as you thought it’d be. In fact, it was almost comforting to have someone so close. 
A few minutes of silence passed before Jongho spoke up. “I- well, we were intoxicated. We had two nights off and we used one to celebrate within the kingsguard.”
“What?” You look towards Jongho, confused. Not having a clue of what he was talking about. 
Jongho brought his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it. “You had asked, almost two weeks ago, why I called this a punishment.”
“Oh.” You giggled. “And you were drunk?”
“Too drunk,” He replies with a small smile, turning his gaze elsewhere. “We had brought it to the streets, where we were caught by some nobles of the castle. They had told the king, it was around your scoldings when they had decided to just punish me that way.”
“And the others?” 
“Ah, they weren’t the ones to bite back at the nobles.” Jongho says shyly.
You let out a hearty laugh, not expecting his reply. “Oh, please tell me you remember!”
“I don’t, not sure if that’s good. But as you know I have a slight authority issue, especially when inebriated.” 
You continue to giggle softly as you return your focus to the flowing garden, “Thank you, Jongho.”
He nods, you can't see it but he nods. Not sure if either of you knew what you were thanking him for, but there was an understanding between you both. A mutual feeling. Jongho places himself in front of the railing, leaning against it. You take this moment to study him as he is now in front of you. Your eyes scan over his casual clothing, it suited him. The loose clothing but yet so perfectly fitted where it was needed. The breeze pushed his white shirt against him, outlining his muscles in his biceps and chest, you couldn’t help it when your eyes traveled over his arms. Taking in each detail under his rolled up sleeves. Your eyes make their way back to his face, where he was looking right back at you. You blushed deeply, thanking the night as it masked the color of your cheeks, yet you couldn’t look away. Instead you gaze over his face. 
He was truly a beautiful man, it didn’t surprise you of his visuals as you have seen many attractive men. But he truly captivated you. What is such a man doing in the kingsguard? You don't let yourself think further when he chuckles and turns his head towards the garden again.
“Where did you wander at night?” Jongho asks suddenly, ripping your attention away from his face. Were you seriously just swooning over your bodyguards looks?
“The night markets,” you reply, “I bring a pouch of coins and make my way around. People of the kingdom are truly talented, you know?”
Jongho doesn't reply, instead he lets you continue talking. He wouldn’t tell you now but he’s grown to like your voice, and how you ramble. Even growing to like your purposely annoying questions.
“The food there, it’s nothing like in the castle. There are times I’ve taken recipes back to our chefs.” you continue. “Oh and Jongho, the people! It may not be of your liking, but the music, dancing and the social aspects are out of this world. How I could spend the rest of my days down there.”
“I’ve been a few times with Wooyoung, another member of the kingsguard,” He says, “the two of you would mingle greatly.” 
You smile at him, “They have animals down there too. Horses, birds and snakes.”
Hugging your knees tighter, you lay your head on your knees and let silence fall once again. You haven’t attended the markets in about three weeks, since you were caught sneaking back into the castle's gates. They only happened once a week so you always made sure to go as much as possible, it was one of the things that brought you the most joy throughout your days. The castle was boring and could be suffocating. And the weeks before meeting Jongho were just talks of possible marriages to other families if your mother were to give birth to a son soon. 
“Jongho?” He faces you, “Would you come with me to the beach? I would love to show you where else I go, if it is possible.”
“I’m unsure if this is a smart idea, princess.” Jongho replies. Though it is technically your title, the phrase made your heart warm. No way, Y/N.
You bite your lip, in search of how to convince him to go with you, or else you would have to sneak out at another time. “Oh, please! Jongho, I’m sure you would enjoy it, only for a bit?”
“And just last week you were complaining to the queen about my presence, were you not? Shall we go then? Quickly, as I am not trying to lose my job or my head.” 
You blush in excitement, but also embarrassment as you recall the outburst you had with your mother with Jongho present. You quickly rise from your spot to lead the way.
“Mother, I seriously do not understand this arrangement!” You shout across the table. Jongho was to your right, looking away in second-hand embarrassment and awkwardness. 
Your mother slams her hands on the table, “Young lady, watch your tone! The king is present, as is Jongho!”
You pout and slam your back against the dining chair.
“I have no privacy, and I feel confined to this castle.”
“We do what we must to teach you your lesson, in a few months may we revisit this conversation.” Your father steps in. “Now eat your meal. Kingsguard, that applies to you as well.”
“As you wish, our king.” Jongho replies, shyly picking up his utensils to eat.
“A few months?! Unbelievable!” You protest.
“The weather is absolutely beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?” You ask Jongho. You both had arrived at the beach after a short walk, well it seemed short. The walk consisted of small talk between the two of you, much to your surprise. You aren't so used to Jongho being responsive to you. Now, you sit in the sand, side by side but not too close. Though, a small part of you wishes he was closer to feel his body heat. Snap out of it, Y/N. He is just here under mothers commands!
“I would,” he replies, “I’ve not come here often. The sky meets well with the ocean.”
You smile widely at his response, having to look away to not embarrass yourself in front of the man whom you're not sure even enjoys your presence. 
“Say, Jongho.. forgive me if I’m being wrong, but would you tell me about yourself?” You suddenly ask. “Were you born here?”
“Ah, what is there to know? I was born here, yes, though I was orphaned at a very young age until I joined the royal military.”
You didn’t know which was more unexpected, him answering or the answer he gave.
“My.. Jongho, I apologize but you were orphaned?” You ask but with hesitance. Not wanting to overstep boundaries with him too soon.
Jongho leans back on his hands in the sand, “No apology needed. My father is a fisherman, I haven't seen him since I was a toddler. But my mother passed away while giving birth to my younger brother.”
You offer your condolences but he waves them off, “Your brother, where is he now?”
“Safe, I hope. My grandmother took him in after I joined the guard.” He replies, “she wanted to take me in too but I could not leave at that point.”
“Jongho, I’m sure my father would let you leave for them! Have you asked?”
“He’s offered, but I am content with visiting them as much as I do. I have a family here.”
“The rest of the kingsguard? I’ve seen some of them around.” He nods, you don’t push further. Leaving that conversation where it’s at.
The sun starts to peak from the horizon, and you let yourself relax into the sand. Jongho doesn’t mention the time, which you're thankful for. You needed to get out of the walls of the castle, you could understand your parents' punishment for you but you could not fight off the feelings of claustrophobia and loneliness in the large castle, making you stir crazy. 
The sun continues to rise and now it’s Jonghos turn to study you. Were you always this beautiful? Maybe he was also going crazy, his job is to just watch over you and offer protection if needed. But why is he becoming comfortable around you? Perhaps it was just your effect on people. He thinks back to what you told him about the night markets, wondering if the people there thought the same of you. He lets his eyes travel to your face and body, as carefully as he can. But quickly looks away when he feels himself get comfortable doing so.
“Thank you, princess.” He clears his throat, “for bringing me here. I’m sure this spot means well to you.”
You smile, “I hope to show you the night markets soon.”
A month has passed since your early morning at the beach with Jongho. As if a door had opened, your relationship with him blossomed. Nothing too deep but it was a start. Your conversations were longer, in fact, Jongho and you had talked for the remainder of your time at the beach and the entire walk back, even wishing each other a good night's rest. You giggled to yourself as you tried to sleep, replaying the conversations in your head like a young girl who had a crush. 
Now you even found yourselves playfully bickering with each other. Having personal jokes and even landing playful swats on eachothers arms. You have to remind yourself that he is just your bodyguard, under a punishment. But you can’t help to lean into the way you so easily open your hearts to one another. The way you helped him go from snarky and closed off to playful in just over a month or two. It was wrong but you continued to play around with those feelings. 
And Jongho felt exactly the same. He hadn’t indulged with feelings like this since he first joined the royal guard. Though he lets himself go on nights of drinking, those women are just strangers and one night stands. He won’t let him fall deep into you, or think of you in such a way. But can he really deny the floating feelings towards you? The way you make his heart softly flutter when you giggle or whine his name when he teases you. Jongho lets himself melt into all the deep, late night conversations and the inside jokes. When you rest your head on his shoulder at the gardens as you read, he should be pushing it off and reprimanding you, asserting that your relationship is nothing but business. Bodyguard and princess. 
But it couldn’t hurt, right?
Tonight you were bringing Jongho to the markets. It took so much convincing and pleading but he had agreed nevertheless, and you couldn't even contain your excitement when he did. You learned he hadn’t been in months which only excited you more. You had waited until you were sure your parents were asleep, and the guards had switched shifts, which some included Jonghos fellow kingsguard mates. 
“You know your way out of the gates very well. Must I tell the king?” You tease as soon as you both walk towards the city.
“Ah yes, make it a point to mention how we were hand in hand as we escaped the treacherous castle walls!” He replies with dramatics. You lightly smack his bicep in response.
“You suit such casual clothing, Jongho.” 
“You noticed. Shall I wear them more often when meeting you, princess?” He asks, linking his arm with yours.
“You flirt!” He only lets out a laugh, one that makes your heart flip right into your stomach. You pull his arm closer to you and he studies your face. The smile on your face grows wider as you arrive at the market.
You pull him along as you point to various stands, telling him how you have to visit them all while he tells you to slow down. You first stop at a food stall, grabbing a snack as you walk around the stalls selling merchandise. 
“Try this on.” You shove a necklace into Jonghos chest.
“I-” 
“I command you!” You cut him off. Knowing that you technically can’t, but he follows anyway.
Jongho slips the necklace and he swears your eyes light up. You clap your hands together and smile. “That's the one! Oh, Jongho, you must see yourself.” 
You slip the shop merchant gold, ignoring Jonghos complaints and you tug him to the next stall. 
After getting through half of the stalls, you and Jongho sit at a table near the courtyard where people were dancing and singing as a band of bards played their songs. You were both nursing a mug of beer each and sharing a plate of various foods from nearby stalls. 
“Is this not delightful?” You ask him, head resting on your palm.
“I have to say my favorite part so far is the music.” He responds. 
You sit up straight and take a sip of your beer, “you like music, Jongho?”
“Of course. My mother had said I have a good voice.”
“You must show me soon.” You perk your head when you hear a new song, and grab Jonghos hands. “Let us dance.”
You're pulling him up before he could fight against you, dragging him into the crowd of people. Pulling his arm up above your head, you twirl under him, bringing him to laugh at your action. You can’t say for sure that you're both the best dancers in the crowd, but you know for a fact that this is the most fun you've had at one of these markets. You're giggling into his chest everytime he moves you a different way or makes a remark about you or another couple dancing nearby, making Jongho blush up his neck.
After taking a small break to finish your drinks and eat more, you were both back in the crowd, dancing and talking. The night was ending soon, as you saw some merchants packing up their stalls already. The bards start a slow song as if on cue, and Jongho gives you a knowing look while you smile slyly at him. “May I have this dance, my princess?”
You nod eagerly, placing your hands on his shoulders while he places his hands only slightly above your hips, softly gripping your hips. Slowly swaying back and forth to the calmer music. You look around and notice there were now fewer people and merchants were bidding their goodbyes to guests. 
“I'm curious.. No one has mentioned your name here, Y/N.” Jongho suddenly speaks up, “They know you, correct?”
“I assume that they don’t, or it is just a mutual understanding. Though I was only caught because someone had recognized me.” You reply. “The people here are uncaring of status.”
He nods and brings you closer, resting his chin on your head. You couldn’t even hide your blush if you tried, so you were thankful your face was hidden.
“I must thank you, princess. This was a good experience for me, and I am glad it was with you.” 
You don’t respond, you only continue the small movements in your bodies, sighing in content. Your heart has been beating at a fast pace since you started dancing and you can’t control the blush that spreads across your cheek every so often. There’s a sad tug on your heart when you silently wish you could take whatever this is a step further. Fully accepting your feelings for the man all while accepting whatever he felt and that it could go nowhere. Not just because he could not feel the same, but because of your statuses. 
You look up as soon as you feel a few water droplets hit your shoulders, Jongho must’ve also felt them as he was also looking up. He lowers his head to yours and you both laugh. The sprinkles turn into light rain but the two of you stand still, searching for answers in eachothers eyes.
“Jongho, I…” The words stuck in your throat. But it’s as if he reads your mind when Jongho leans down, eyes on your lips, tongue darting out to wet his own. You push up on your toes and he beats you to it, landing his lips onto yours. 
Softly pressing his lips into yours but holding your body close to yours. His grip on you is tight like he is afraid you’ll disappear so suddenly. You both pull back, eyes wide but full of love, triggering Jongho to connect his lips to yours again, but with more passion. Molding your lips with his as his hand travels to the back of your head, the other on your lower back. 
He pulls back first this time, leaning his forehead against yours. “Let us go home, princess.” 
You nod and let him take the lead. Smiling to yourself and your hand remains in his until you reach the door to your quarters.
“I bid you a goodnight.” He says, cupping your face in his hand.
“May I suggest you come in? I’d want nothing more than for you to be at my side tonight, Jongho.”
Jonghos eyes dart back and forth between yours. You slowly slide into your room with him in your hands, but before you're halfway in, he crashes his lips onto yours. The kiss only gets deeper when he leans your back against your now closed door, hands traveling down to your hips as he tugs you closer to him. 
“Princess, you must not tempt me.” He says in between kissing you, bringing a hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss.
“Let us be selfish tonight, as I don't know when I can get you next.” You respond, out of breath.
“I will allow myself to you every day, and every night, Y/N.” His lips ghost yours, “I am yours for as long as you need. But tonight, do you want this? Are you sure? I only assume you know so much about this.”
“I trust you, Jongho. I trust you with my heart and body, as much as you are mine, I am yours.” And with that he is latching his lips onto yours again. Jongho hooks his hands under your thighs, commanding you to jump and you do so. He walks you to your bed, setting you down softly and moving his hands behind you to untie your corset, not letting his lips leave yours longer than a few seconds at a time. 
Not beforelong, your corset is off and thrown to the side. Jongho works on untying your dress as he leaves soft kisses down your jaw and neck. He lifts his head, staring into your eyes as he slowly drags your long dress off of your body. Leaving you only in your stockings and panties. You lift your arms over your breasts, almost as an immediate response, not helping but feeling slightly insecure. 
“Don’t, my angel, for you are beautiful.” He says, moving your arms down to your side again.
You reach up and tug on his shirt and he chuckles, “for you.” He pulls up his shirt and tosses it behind you somewhere. 
Jongho softly lays you back, connecting his lips with yours for a brief moment before traveling them down your neck, softly sucking on your sensitive spots, eliciting soft breathy moans from you. He brings his lips down your breasts, softly cupping one in his hand as his mouth kisses around the nipple on the other. Latching his lips onto your sensitive bud, he brings his thigh up to your center, offering you some friction. 
You gasp and bring your hands up his hair as he sucks and kisses your nipples, slowly switching between the two every now and then. Jongho then sits up and slowly slides each of your stockings off.
“Beyond gorgeous,” He softly says, “And so ready for me. How I could never forget this moment with you.”
He hooks his finger under the hem of your underwear, dragging them down at a painful speed. You grip his arm, “Please, will you kiss me.”
“I couldn’t deny you if I tried.” Jongho lays his lips on yours again, almost with more force but never too rough. You don’t even realize your panties are completely off until you feel his fingers at your core, gathering your slick and bringing it up to the aching bundle of nerves. You can only moan and buck your hips into his hands at the sensation. 
“My sensitive princess..” He coos. 
Your moans come out as quiet whines as he massages your slick, gathering more of your arousal as he continues. Jongho latches his lips to your neck once again, leaving love bites up and down your neck and chest, making sure to massage your breasts as he continues to bring you to your high. 
You almost jump as he inserts a finger into your core, slowly pumping in and out as you adjust to the foreign sensation. He brushes against your most sensitive spot as soon as he adds a second finger, causing you to moan louder than intended. You could only hope the walls and doors are as soundproof as you imagine. 
You gasp when Jongho lays his thumb against your click, rubbing as he pumps his fingers in and out. It was more so to prepare you for him but you can’t hold back the warm feeling in your stomach as he scissors his fingers and slightly speeds up his pace. You continue to let out breathy moans, thighs shaking as the warmth spreads. 
“Ah- Jongho, keep going,” you moan out, “I think- I-”
Before you say more, your back uncontrollably arches as you let out your loudest moan yet. Jongho rubs the side of your thighs with his free hand as you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. Your thighs start to force themselves closed. Taking it as a sign, Jongho removes his fingers and brings them to his lips, sucking the juices off as you watch in awe. 
“So sweet, as expected from my princess,” he whispers before kissing you once again, “my love, are you ready for me?”
You nod your head quickly, “Yes.. Yes! Jongho, please.”
Jongho kisses you again, cupping your face with one hand as he frees himself of his pants with his other. He lines himself up at your entrance, giving you one last look before entering himself in your warmth. 
Pain travels through your lower half as your grip onto his bicep and your sheets. 
“Jongho..” You cry out.
He shushes you softly and latches his lips to yours, and you desperately kiss him as he bottoms himself out in you. You deepen the kiss as he pauses his movements inside of you.
“M-move, please.” You plead in between kisses. 
Jongho moves his hips at a soft and slow pace, making sure you adjust well. He’s well aware it’s your first time being intimate, so he holds himself back with so much restraint from himself. He grips your waist and grabs your hand with his other, pinning it above your head and he speeds his thrusts up, enough to make you moan but never rough.
Your soft moans only encourage him to quicken his pace. 
“Jongho, please, faster.”
“Are you sure, my love?” He asks.
“Please, yes. Just more.” You moan out. 
His thrusts hit harder and deeper, the only noises heard are your moans and skin slapping. 
“My princess, you have no idea what you do to me,” he groans. “How I could fuck you all night.”
He grabs your waist and lays a hand on your lower stomach, rubbing your clit with his thumb. You almost scream out and arch into his hands. The heat in your stomach returns, but hotter and stronger. Your brain fogs as your eyes slam shut, not being able to voice what was happening. You let it go and cum onto Jongho, who was more than pleased with this outcome. He only speeds up to chase his own high, which comes soon after. After a few thrusts, he quickly pulls out, pumping himself with his hand before releasing his seed onto your stomach. 
He says kneeling, arms caging you in as you both catch your breath. You grab Jonghos face and pull him in for a final kiss. 
“Let me fall in love with you.”
264 notes · View notes
andypantsx3 · 11 months
Note
ANDY U CANT LEAVE US HANGING I NEED MORE DRAGON SHOUTO?,!?.!. please… i think ill die if u dont elaborate WHAT DO U MEAN WE’RE FACE TO FACE WITH HIM… what does he say… what does he DO… i need to know more omfg
Riffing off of @mhathotfic's tags on my original post, which I absolutely loved.
Tumblr media
It happens on a cold January evening, just a few months after you've reached your majority.
You escape out into the frosty winter evening to join Shouto, unable to bear your family's increasingly-regular discussions of your marriageability now that you're of age.
Once you dragged home a dragon fledgling, you'd always sort of imagined that the question of your eligibility would be somewhat moot. Not many men wanted a wife who came with little dowry, and even fewer might want one who came with an enormous fire-breathing lizard who barely let her out of his sight.
You thought Shouto would sooner burn down your husband's house than listen to any sounds of discomfort on your wedding night—you didn't think many men would be willing to consummate a union with that threat lingering just beyond the window.
Not that you wanted to be married to any of the village men. Ever since you were little, you'd always had this feeling—a feeling like there was someone out there for you, just out of reach, like they were just a step beyond the next corner. Close, but somehow impossible to catch. So you'd never wanted a husband from the village, and you certainly don't now.
So once the discussion turns towards the topic of your being married yet again over dinner, you excuse yourself, and go out into the night to find Shouto, who is never more than a few hundred meters away.
You find his enormous form easily, his red-and-white patterned scales glittering in the light of a fire he's set, out in the fields you'd found him in as a child, as if he'd somehow anticipated you'd be coming out to him.
He cracks open a fiery blue eye, watching your approach, and lifts a wing as you near him, crowding you between the fire and his warm scales, creating a sort of tent with his wing to keep the heat in, and keep you close to him.
You absently pat his side, sinking down against him, sticking your hands out to the fire.
"They're talking about husbands again," you say, and Shouto cranes his neck around so that he can rest his head across your lap, nearly as large as you are, heavy and warm. You reach out to rest a hand across his snout, petting the glittering scarlet scales there.
You've always known he can understand you, given his reactions to the questions you ask, the way he sometimes watches you with knowing eyes. But how much of what you say to him he truly understands will forever be a mystery, as you'll never be able to ask him.
You think he understands enough, though, to know you're displeased.
"A husband," you repeat in disbelief, scratching over his scales again, listening to the rumble that builds up in his chest almost like a purr. He always likes to be petted, though you get an intentionally blank look from him whenever you dare to bring it up, as though he does not like to be made fun of.
"When they should know you're the only boy for me," you tell him, teasing.
Shouto's eye blinks open again, and you lean back to watch him watching you, something curious in his gaze. You begin to recognize the look for what it usually is—the precedent to some type of mischief—whether that be digging up a garden when he was still the size of a particularly fat cat, to accidentally setting a man's pant leg ablaze when he'd whistled after you, the evening of your sixteenth birthday.
You make a curious noise, and you're just about to ask him what he thinks he's up to when there's a crackle like lightning, and the hot, burning scent of ozone reaches your nose.
There's suddenly a rush of cold air over you, Shouto's massive form gone from around you, and the weight in your lap is suddenly much smaller and lighter.
When you look down, Shouto's head is no longer across your legs. Instead, your gaze meets the perfect pale skin of a very strong, very naked back. You realize belatedly that there is a stranger in your lap, a man with a mop of red-and-white hair, scarlet and snow, who has one warm, muscular arm curled around your waist.
You let out a scream, scrabbling backwards, but the stranger's arm locks around you, and the man's face tips up to yours, blinking curiously.
You freeze, your gaze meeting eerily familiar grey-and-blue eyes, set into the most utterly perfect face you have ever seen. The man's features are careful and exact, the slope of his nose blade-straight, his jawline strong, his mouth pretty and plush and weirdly captivating in the flickering firelight. You cannot help but feel you know him, though you are incredibly certain you have never seen him before.
There would be no forgetting a man as beautiful as this.
"Who the hell are you?" you demand, shock rendering you frozen and dumb.
The man blinks, slow and catlike and so hauntingly recognizable. His eyebrows scrunch, as though something's confused him, and then he speaks, slowly and carefully, as if he's just getting a feel for the shape of words in his mouth.
"I am...Shouto," he says, his voice so deep and smooth. It reminds you so much of the deep, rumbling purr Shouto had just been letting out moments ago—your mouth drops open, disbelieving.
"You're Shouto?" you echo, thrown. Though you're beginning to realize that this devastatingly handsome, distractingly naked man is horribly familiar in hundreds of different ways—from the timbre of his voice to his eyes to his hair to the way his arm suddenly curls even more possessively about your waist, the way Shouto's tail sometimes does to keep you pressed close to him.
And with Shouto the dragon suddenly gone...
"You're my dragon? My Shouto?" you demand.
The man blinks, shifting in your lap so that's he's fully turned towards you. He props up on one hand, his face drawing alarmingly close as his other arm presses you into him. He looks very much as if he likes the sound of that.
"Yes, your Shouto," he purrs, pupils going darker. Your heartbeat suddenly kicks back to life in your chest, stuttering and tripping over itself as his large, hot palm presses proprietarily at the small of your back, as he leans in to bring his mouth close to yours.
"And you..." he says, his tone going rich and smoky and dark, like dragon fire. "You have always been mine."
958 notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 3 months
Text
Just the Fingertips
Pairing: Maomao x Jinshi
Tags: nsfw, smut, future fic, kissing, self-esteem issues, first time, semi-public sex, grinding, erections, clit stimulation, jealousy, protectiveness
Word count: 2.9k
Ao3
A/N: These two are gonna be the most badass couple when they get together.
Tumblr media
“Are you sure you need to go to this event? Didn’t I pay your debt already?” Jinshi loosely embraced Maomao from behind, his chin leaning against her head.
“My debt isn’t the issue. They’re short on servers, a few of their usual ladies came down with colds. All around the same time. Funny how they all seemed to spend a lot of time around each other.” She could already deduce why all of them developed the same illness. Close relationships like that weren’t uncommon in the Verdigris House.
“Hmmm. I don’t like the thought of you spending time around lecherous men.” His hold on her small frame tightened, clearly feeling a little more possessive now that the two were finally dating. It took over three years but they were finally at that stage.
Jinshi couldn’t have been happier. He flaunted their relationship, holding Maomao’s hand at every opportunity and telling everyone about his cute and smart apothecary soon-to-be-wife. They hadn’t talked about that part yet but there was no one else Jinshi could imagine marrying. “You’re acting like a child.” He often presented himself as older then he was, trying to fit into a role. When he let his walls down was when Maomao liked him the most. “No one will so much as touch me. It will be optional but-”
“Optional?!” Did he hear that right? “Just what kind of event is this?!”
“One of the high-ranking officials expressed interest of buying someone of the Verdigris House. However he hasn’t yet decided on who it would be. He wanted a… wider sample then what he’s already seen. No one has to attend if they choose not to but they all know that many of his friends are just as rich is not richer. It’s a good opportunity to get new patrons. Naturally my sisters will be attending as well, but only as performers.” The Princesses have more then enough visitors, although their presence alone is sure to get them a few new ones at least.
“Can anyone attend this event?”
“Anyone with enough money. Why do you ask?” Maomao untangled from his embrace to look over the things she’s packed. Jinshi didn’t respond. Oh. “Jinshi, do you honestly think I would let another man lay a finger on me?”
“No, and if they did they’d lose it. But it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen you in your courtesan outfit. If other men get to see it then so should I.” Jealous. He was jealous. Of something that hasn’t even happened yet. “Plus... Maybe if I behave myself and you’ll let me have a sample of you too.”
“Guh!” A chill ran down her spine as she looked into his hooded eyes.
They hadn’t gone that far yet. Only making out and heavy touching. She could always feel how hard he was but he never insisted or pushed for anything. Given that he was such a pervert before she figured Jinshi would have gotten her pregnant already.
There was also the fact that if they did have sex she had no experience to speak of. She knew many things, many tricks to make any man or woman lose their minds to pleasure, both in company and on their own. She only tried a few of those on her own when the pressure was too much to ignore. Sex with someone else wasn’t something that interested her until very recently and only if she thought about having it with Jinshi. Would she be any good in practice as she is in theory?
It was a question that weigh heavy on her mind as Meimei applied makeup on her face.
"You're thinking so loud I can hear you." Joka commented as she embraced her from behind as she so often liked to do. All three of her sisters made sure to spend at least some time with her when she came to visit. Her purpose was more of a business one this time but still, they wanted to be the ones to help her get dressed. "What's bothering you?"
"Nothing."
"Liar." Meimei grinned at her as she pulled back to examine the work of art that was Maomao's makeup. "Is it something at the palace? The Emperor's kids? Jinshi?" Since Jinshi began dating Maomao her sisters didn't bother addressing him by his royal title.
"Is he being good to you?" Pairin chimed in when she saw the brief look of hesitation on Maomao. Joka tightened her hold protectively and Maomao knew damn well her sisters wouldn't hesitate to throw hands at Jinshi if he hurt her.
Was she really about to ask this? Then again who better to ask?
"He insisted on attending tonight." She tried not to bite her lip and ruin her sister's hard work. "The two of us have yet to go all the way. I know he wants to, he's wanted to for a while but all he ever does is try to tease me when we're in bed. I think he has expectations that I... don't know if I can fulfill. He'd probably have a much better time if he married one of you three." All her insecurities came flooding out and once and she was left with uncomfortable beats of silence.
It was Meimei who spoke up first. "Maomao, it's at times like this that I wonder how smart you really are." She took one of Maomao's hand in hers, "Medicine and poison. Those are some of your strengths. Are they useful in bed? Sure, under certain circumstances." Pairin giggled knowingly.
"If you think Jinshi would choose any of us over you then you might be a bit sick right now." Joka's hand rose up to press against Maomao's forehead, also pushing her closer to her.
"Men come to us for company and sex. If that was all that Jinshi wanted he wouldn't have gone to such lengths for you. He's a handsome man with both money and power. Could have spent it on anyone. Yet," Pairin pointed at her little sister, "he choose you to be his future wife. Maomao, I've seen what people look like when they're deeply in love. That look? I see it every time Jinshi looks at you."
Maomao could feel her face heat up at the truth of those words. Her sisters were right, Jinshi wouldn't care about her skills, the man would probably come undone as soon as she touched him from his happiness alone.
What a lovely image.
A bit too much so if the way her heart kept beating on her way to the lavish home. She had her sisters for company, she knew Jinshi would be there too. But that was the problem. After the things she's revieled how could she act normal around her boyfriend?
The moment she saw him sitting all alone in a darker corner she felt a flood that was equally guilt and arousal. Guilt that she ever thought that someone who looked at her like she was the only person in the room would even consider sleeping with someone else. And arousal because the thoughts of something happening between them tonight wouldn't leave her mind.
She, like her sisters and everyone else kept things casual and friendly through the first round of song, dance and drinks. Jinshi's eyes were only on her, the only time he looked away was to be polite when drinks or snacks were served to him, and of course to decline unwanted advances, of which there were many.
Jinshi was always sexy, she knew that from the very first moment she saw him.
"Little lady, want to join us for a drink?" Maomao looked at the table she was serving. They looked like soldiers, youtful, with a strong build. Glorified bodyguards probably.
To stay polite she poured them each a new drink and declined, "I'm already spoken for." For forever. She saw their faces drop and they were about to speak again when Maomao looked Jinshi's way just in time for him to invite her over. "Excuse me, but please do help yourselves to other company." Her glance held a little too much warning. The group collectevly gulped and nodded, silently promiseing to behave.
Maomao walked to Jinshi's table. It was smaller and partially hidden away by the dimmer light and a red, silky courtain.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Jinshi smiled as he leaned his face in his palm.
"Every time I've been here." Jinshi nodded at her and offered his hand. Maomao hesitated only for a moment, studing his face. He had that relaxed air around him that she liked so much. Here he wasn't a Prince, he was Jinshi, her future husband. She could trust him.
Taking his hand she allowed him to pull her close to his lap. He kissed the top of her head as she leaned against him with her back, his larger frame slouching against her. By the looks of things what they were doing was rather tame by comparison of some heated kisses Maomao had spotted.
It wasn't unusual for things to escalate when touching was allowed although no one went all the way. It was foreplay to the ladies eventually leading their lovestruck cousumers to bed. A game of cat and mouse.
"Maomao." Jinshi spoke in a low tone. "Someone wants to come this way."
She didn't notice them being stared at by a group of women. They were older than her, perhaps her sister's age. Bigger... in many places. And looked at Maomao like she just killed their pet.
Well in a way she did. All women in the red light dictrict were well aware of where they stood in society. Yet some had more standing then others, and sought to exploit it and get even higher, toying with and breaking the hearts of those who visited them. Jinshi, as much as he could try to hide it was a man of high standing. Beautiful and with money he was the mouse, and those women were the cats.
But so was Maomao.
She felt exceptionally petty tonight. Jinshi had an influence on her. Maomao looked up at him but he was already half-way to her lips. His fingers brushed against her chin, his eyes locking with hers for a moment before closing them. Her's remeined open to look at the group of onlooking women who seemed to hate her even more now.
"The color sticks." She whispered against his lips. The red lipstick was indeed smeared against both their lips. Jinshi didn't seem to mind.
"Shall I give it back?" He leaned back a little and let his hands run against her sides. "On other places perhaps."
Her body got hotter, she coukd feel her heart beating and she wanted him to feel it too. Steeling her nerves she took his hands and pushed them against her breasts. Jinshi let out a surprised gasp. "Sorry there's not much to grab."
"What are you talking about Maomao? They're perfect." Jinshi kept one hand on the outside but slipped the other one under Maomao's clothes, his hand palming over her whole breast. "I wouldn't want you any other way."
Based on what she usually saw it was hard to believe that. "Most men prefer them bigger."
"I prefer my Maomao." Jinshi smiled against her shoulder, moving the remaining clothes out of the way. "Is it okay to touch here too?" Two rough fingers slipped between her legs but he didn't move them further then her thighs.
Maomao gulped. Her eyes scanned the room once more. She could hardly ask for much more privacy then she already has in this dark corner. Lucky for her, and her pride and dignity, no one was paying attention to them, not even those women who were now busy with their own clients.
For her this far more then a part-time job. This was the first time she'd let her lover... Jinshi, to touch her in such a way. The first time any man would touch her in such a way actually.
After a deep breath in and out she parted her legs, his hand cupping her pussy with ease. "You can touch me there. And inside too."
Jinshi's hands twitched at that. The one on Maomao's breast pressed back too hard causing her to bite back a moan. She might get fucked by him but she refused to go out of her way to put on a show. But again, like before, the music and the song drowned out her noise, making it one only Jinshi was privlidged enough to hear.
"I won't go inside you. That should be saved for a more private affair." He wasn't fooling her with his sweet and kind words. She could feel his hard cock pressing and pulsing below her. It wanted her, he wanted her and if he were a different kind of man he would have fucked her over the table.
But if he were a different kind of man Maomao wouldn't have fallen in love with him.
With her legs spread enough for him to move his hand as he wanted she let her head fall against Jinshi's chest. Oh. His heart was racing too.
Two fingers spread her open while the third moved down to the enterance of her pussy, circling and pushing in just a tiny bit to get the wetness going. Maomao only had experiance with her own hands and fingers and they were so much thinner than Jinshi's. But his were more gentle, giving away his mostly pampered lifestlye.
He was a hard worker, yet his hands always remained delicate, fitting of someone of his high station. Maomao didn't mind this, he was her opposite and she loved him for it. He completed her.
Once she had his cock inside her he will trully complete her. She could never imagine doing so with anyone else.
Hell she couldn't have imagined herself doing this with him a few years ago. Before she shivered from his fake persona, his flirty nature and beauty that hid all his sorrow. Now that she knows the real him she welcomes his touch, embraces it even.
Now if only he would stop teasing.
Or could it be... "Jinshi, do you not know where the clitoris is?"
"What?! Of course I do, I took my lessons in human anatomy seriously. And..." He went quiet, his hand falling still, "I found it before."
"Have you?" Maomao wasn't about to scold him about having slept with women before her. Why should she? Jealousy seemed pointless given that Jinshi looked at her, only at her for years now. "I need a demonstration otherwise I might suspect you're lying to me."
Jinshi pressed his lips together, pouting at the doubt Maomao cast at his skills. If she wanted a demonstration he would give her one.
His fingers stopped just above her clit, then tapped it twice. Both taps made Maomao's hips twitch. Like him, she was touch-starved, but she had more of a lid on her needs. It was hard for her to be honest with them, with him, at least when it comes to more intimate things.
But she was slowly learning how and accepting her own lust for him.
One hand between her legs, the other on her breast, Jinshi leaned against her shoulder as he moved. Maomao bit the inside of her cheek as Jinshi's two fingers trapped and rolled her clit between the tips, mirroring what his other fingers were doing to her nipples.
As for her own hands Maomao slapped them over her mouth. Muffling her moans she tried to keep her body still, but it was responding to the intoxicating touches. She finally understood what her sisters meant when they spoke about men feeling different. Maybe it was just Jinshi for her but his touch made her feel like she was in fire.
Jinshi's middle finger reached down to Maomao's pussy entrance and gathered some of the wetness and proceeded to roll it over her clit, making it wetter, slippery and sensitive to his touch.
It never felt like this. Every nerve ending in her body felt like it was burning up. The only thing that could make it stop was poking her in the ass. Maomao was seconds away from telling him to fuck her over the table. These thoughts were something she had while she was asleep, when she touched herself, now they feel even more intense, almost overwhelming.
This feeling... was she close? Jinshi's breath warmed her neck, breathing fast, grunting as Maomao rolled her ass against erection.
She was getting him all hot and bothered and she wasn't really doing much. He was getting off from seeing her coming. She was right before, he was so cute. And he was about to make her-
"Jinshi!" Maomao moaned his name against her hands, her hips thrusting upwards, rolling her clit against his fingers with no control or care.
"Maomao." He breathed against her neck, quickly kissing it to muffle his own noises. There was a wet stain on his clothes spread, his cock twitching but luckily Maomao was the only one who knew. "Looks like... I found it."
"So you did. Good work Jinshi." Maomao patted him on the cheek for a job well done.
He glowed, happy as a puppy at her small praise.
Jinshi pulled her clothes back in place and wrapped his arms around her, laughing a little loudly and just now catching the attention of a few people. When they looked at them they saw two people in love, blushing for each other and cuddling. Maomao turned her reddening face away and quickly turned to press it against Jinshi's chest.
Somehow having people stare at them while they were a lovey-dovey couple was more of an embarrassing moment then her coming from his fingers just moments before. She would work on that first one in the future.
149 notes · View notes
adonis-koo · 1 year
Text
wicked • 15
Tumblr media
↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader
↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut
Word Count: 13k
Previous | Next | Masterlist
tags: jungkook really loves grabbing mc’s throat, dirty talk, breath play, dom!kook, possessiveness, clit play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation (m & f), vaginal fingering, squirting, wet humping...?  is that a thing? slight size kink
Note:I’m so excited to announce chapter 15! I hope you all love it as much as I do, inbox is open for asks and I would love to hear everyones opinions bc im sure yall are gonna be feeling some type of way by the end.
Tumblr media
“How dare you accuse my maid of such a thing!” You hissed out from your seat, glaring into Di Jin with a venomous glare, “She is no such thing as an assassin and you should be utterly ashamed of yourself for even thinking of such!” 
Di Jin slammed his hands on the stable snarling at you, “Then tell me why she’s been missing from several of her shifts the last month? The only person who would be able to get into your room late into the night with guards posted would be her? There was a second attempt, was there not?” 
You shook your head, trying to not let your jaw slackened at the blatant disrespect, “Because I authorized it! Her mother has been deathly ill over the last month and I’ve given her time to be away from the castle to tend to her!” 
Di Jin’s nostrils flared as he leaned back in his seat, as he stared at you for a long moment as if a predator sizing its prey, “What a convenient cover, tell me Princess, have you ever seen this sickly mother?” 
“I-” 
“Have you taken the time to track your servant’s whereabouts when she had stayed out even later than you authorized?” Di Jin growled. 
“I will not have my wife being interrogated,” The doors opened once more, Jungkook who had barely been held back on the other side had managed to break in once more, his father still arguing with him, “Not if I have anything to say about this.” 
Dae Seong had yanked him back by the shoulder, “You’re going to listen to me boy! Let him do what he needs to if you value her safety at all.” 
Jungkook had retaliated by grabbing him by the collar, yanking him closer as he snarled quietly, “If you value anything we still have then you’ll let me be by her side.” Jungkook shoved him away before swiftly walking up to the table. 
Di Jin didn’t even attempt to watch their squabble as he stood up from his seat, hands on the table as he leaned in, “Or have you knowingly let her do this?” 
“Oh yes,” You sneered standing up as well, challengingly glaring back, “It makes much sense that I’d be the orchestrator behind my own attempted assassination. I may be an outsider and I may not know all the in’s and outs of Penumbra but I will not sit here and let you dictate to me who I am or who my servant is!” 
Jungkook puffed a breath in satisfaction at the tongue lashing you were giving the old codger as he went to wrap and arm around you, “We’re going, if you’re finished.”
Di Jin’s nostrils flared at the interruption as you took Jungkook’s hand which had been extended in an offer to help you out of your seat.
“This isn’t over Princess.” 
Your eyes burned into his, “You’re right,” You placed your hands on the table as you leaned in closer to him, your voice deathly quiet, “This is just the beginning Di Jin, tread carefully where you walk in these halls.” 
Jungkook’s arm found its way around you once more as you allowed him to guide you out of the room, anger visibly trembling off your body as you tried with every breath to calm yourself down. 
“We need to speak to the others.” You forced your voice to quiet as you both stepped out of the frigid room. 
“I’ve already asked Taehyun to retrieve them all, we’re meeting in Namjoon’s quarters.” Jungkook answered steadily, “We’ll get her back Y/n.” 
“I can only hope.”
Tumblr media
“It just doesn’t make sense,” Namjoon shook his head as he looked through the records that covered the small table of his office where everyone sat, “It does look incriminating,” He frowned at your pitiful state as you rubbed your forehead, “And it doesn’t help that you’ve given her unsupervised access outside the gate’s Princess.” 
You sucked in a harsh breath as you shook your head, “Had I known Di Jin was going to do this I would’ve had someone go with her…Is Taehyung’s word nothing? He helped her mother after all.” 
“Seer’s are not allowed into politics and worldly affairs.” Jungkook shook his head, his hands resting on the arm’s of his chair but seemed to twitch at the way you restlessly shifted in your seat, sitting a hair too far away for his liking, “Even though Taehyung can consort with us in private, his words would be seen as invalid to the court.” 
This made your lips quiver into a frown, the one person who could possibly save her was considered…invalid?
“Not only that but Taehyung could potentially jeopardize his position on the Guiding Hand if he tried to speak to court.” Hoseok chimed, leaning back in his chair in thought.
“And if Di Jin snoops about and Taehyung chooses to speak out regardless, he could accuse Taehyung of being another accomplice of hers, putting him in a cell right next to her.” Jimin seemed painfully sullen, his hand resting on his cheek as he frowned.
“What about her mother? Surely we could speak to her?” Hoseok asked.
“They’ve taken her into custody as well,” Jimin replied once more looking as though the whole situation disturbed him, “By possible accomplice of her, and since her mother has been cured of blood rot Di Jin suspects it was never there to begin with.”
Just his words made your hands curl in anger, “This is ridiculous!” Everyone looked at you as you hissed the words out, “What is the meaning behind this? Truly? There has to be an ulterior motive from Di Jin to accuse her of such a thing.” 
It was silent for a long time before Namjoon sighed, “Many things are hidden to us right now, perhaps for a reason. All we can do is focus on freeing Wheein.” 
“Still,” Yoongi grabbed his chin, “It would be worthwhile to see Wheein’s mother, and someone should speak with Taehyung about this, I’ve yet to see him since the whole incident.” 
“I’ll speak with him,” You volunteered yourself, “I’m sure he’s taken the news hard, and I’d like to see too it personally to assure him that we’ll find a way to keep her safe.” 
“I’ll go with you then.” Jungkook also spoke up, “Taehyung has likely not taken the news well, and knowing him he’ll want to speak with me directly. 
You frowned at this, your heart dully aching at the thought, “The least I can do is apologize to him for letting this happen.” You looked away from Jungkook as you heaved a deep sigh, “This is my fault after all.” 
You just wanted to be kind…especially when it was something you could help with, how could it end this way? Wheein had been nothing but kind to you the moment she introduced herself, and this is what she got in return. 
Had you been looking at Jungkook you would’ve seen the way his fist curled, aching to reach out to you, to do something, anything to try and ease the severe stress and guilt you were under right now. 
It was silent for a long moment before Jungkook spoke, thinking over his words carefully before he redirected himself to the men at the table, “Namjoon, I want you to look back in past schedules of who was on rotation during the nights Wheein went out and I’d like you to speak with them if you feel they’re allegiance is with the Jeons.”
“Hoseok I want you to keep track of Di Jin from now on, try to be covert about it and Jimin…” Jungkook looked across the table at Jimin who seemed to be staring at the wall, as if purposely ignoring the prince, “I know…your relationship with him is distant at best…” Jungkook frowned, “But if there’s any way you could talk to him, make him believe you're on his side…we need to figure out why he’s doing this.” 
“Jungkook…” Jimin sighed softly, looking at war with himself and for a brief moment you were confused until you remembered the words Wheein ushered to you many months ago. 
‘Jimin was the bastard son of the Head of the Guard’
The pieces were all slowly fitting together, Di Jin having been the old head of guard, which meant he was Jimin’s father…You sunk in your seat, oh dear what a mess things were quickly becoming…
Jimin relented, “I’ll see what I can do.” 
“Thank you.” Jungkook’s words were sincere, “There’s nothing else to discuss at this time, don’t let me hold you all from your duties.” He waved to them all as everyone stood up, yourself included as you made your way to the exit. 
Yoongi opened the door for you as you quietly thanked him before stepping out, an odd absence filling your chest at the realization that Wheein was no longer escorting you to where you went, nor would she stay with you when you asked her too.
The rest of your day felt like a void, you still had your duties to attend to the project in the Market, you had to talk and be social with various businesses, walking them through their future new stores and making arrangements with various vendors about what to get for each shop. 
The day had passed before you knew it and yet all you could think about was Wheein, her tear stained eyes and whimpers when you saw her. 
It snapped your heart like a twig to even think about, out of everyone, why did Di Jin have to choose her as his target? It just didn’t make sense. And you firmly believed you were not being fooled here, Wheein had been easily the kindest person you had ever met in Penumbra. 
Arriving at your and Jungkook’s room it was quiet and chilled in the room making you tremble as you shut the door, only a few candles lit making it difficult to see as you glanced around, realizing you had nobody to help you change. 
Your eyes glossed over as you inhaled sharply, you could call for another maid, you should call for another maid. But your stubbornness wouldn’t let you as you stretched your arms towards your back, trying to haphazardly undo the back making your muscles begin to ache and twitch as you huffed. 
This went on for several minutes before you finally stopped and frustratedly dropped your arms letting out a quiet sob as you pressed your hands on your eyes, the one person who you trusted with your entire being was being falsely accused of your own attempted murder. 
Stress filtered your body once more as you hurriedly tried to push back your tears at the sound of the door opening. 
Jungkook had a handful of papers he was reading through when he walked in at the unsightly mess of you halfway dressed and the unmistakable look you always had when you were crying. 
He lowered his papers as he looked at you for a long moment.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Your eyes filled with tears once more before you finally gave up trying to hold them in, closing your eyes as you defeatedly let the warm tears trickle down your cheeks. 
Jungkook sighed, setting the papers down at the desk before he walked over, “You look pitiful.” Standing in front of you he gently cupped your cheek, pushing the tears from your cheeks, “You should’ve called for a maid.” 
“I have a maid!” You hissed out, “And she’s in a dungeon right now for something she didn’t do!” This made you weep once more as you shook your head, “Why would they do this Jungkook? Why? I don’t understand! There isn’t a soul sweeter than Wheein, why would they claim the assassin was her?” 
“I don’t know,” Jungkook frowned, “But if I had to take a guess, it’s because they want to place distrust among us from the inside,” Jungkook replied steadily, “If we can’t trust even our most loyal servants, how can we trust each other? The seed of doubt eventually blossoms in its own time. I’m not sure how, but the Rosewood’s are most likely the cause of this.” 
He gently turned you around before he began to undo the back of your dress, albeit a bit clumsy, but with patience the material slipped off. 
“Not only this but if we let this distract us they might be stirring to do another attempt soon.” Jungkook frowned as you turned to face him, “If you die in Penumbra it’s going to trigger a shattering throughout the entire continent. War will be all we know until we’re the last kingdom standing.” 
“If that's what it takes for Wheein to live I will gladly die.” You inhaled sharply. 
“You will not.” Jungkook grabbed your chin harshly, his eyes glaring into you at your words, “I know you miss her, but crying about it and being unnecessarily self sacrificial isn’t going to get her back.” 
His words stung, and the prick of hurt they caused made you shove his hand away, “You may be right but you don’t have to be so cold about it.” 
Jungkook tucked his tongue into his cheek as he scoffed, “Well princess, somebody needs to tell you, otherwise god only knows what you’ll do.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” You snapped back, not appreciating his bluntness right now, you had come to terms with the fact that Jungkook was nothing like that last love you had known, Seokjin was always dripping in honeyed words and sweet nothings. 
He loved to coddle you and dote on your feelings. Jungkook did no such thing, you had for the most part become accustomed to this, but in these moments of vulnerability it stung having your feelings coldly told to stop. 
“It means the last time you let your feelings overcome your logic this happened.” Jungkook snapped, grabbing your hand and lifting it as he shook it, the marks on your hands still freshly healed and scars evident, “You were unconscious for two days Y/n. Two days! If you hadn’t been so emotional you wouldn’t be wearing gloves every time we step out of this room.” 
It was silent for a long moment as you snatched your hand from his grip as if he had been the one to burn you, eyes watering now but they were glaring at him in hurt and anger and he let out a long sigh, as if realizing he perhaps, went too far. 
“As a Eunoian, we are kind and expect no kindness in return. You might look at me as nothing more than an emotional woman, but I would never turn anyone away who needs my help, that is not who I was raised to be, that’s not who I am. Yes it scarred me and no I may not remember all of those events, but I know I helped, I know I made a difference even if it was only for a few people and I will not let you stand here and chastise me over it.” You stared at him for a long moment indignant. 
How could he stand here and insult you like this? 
Jungkook looked away from you with a briefly strained expression, and you were familiar with it because he always made that face when he was holding his tongue, it made you scoff, “Well you might as well say what you want too, go ahead, get it off your chest since I’m being so emotional.” 
“You know what you sound like right now Y/n?” Jungkook chucked bitterly, “You sound like a martyr,” He pointed a finger low at you, “Nobody is asking you to do that here, not a single person. Whether you like it or not you’re the Crowned Princess, your life does matter more then a peasants because the whole fucking world decided to weaponize the little Eunoian Princess nobody would dare hurt as a political tool to make us heel like a bitch.” 
Your lip twitched at his words, “Oh I’ve been well aware for the last three damn years what I am to the world! Don’t stand here and try to educate me on that, I knew from the moment I was told I had to marry you that my life didn’t matter more than just being a good bitch to the crown!” 
Your eyes watered once more, “That’s what you said on our wedding night and you were right. But it doesn’t change what I believe or how I feel and if that makes me a martyr then so fucking be it! I watched as my own people sent me away with smiles on their faces all pretending as if they hadn’t exiled me from my own country as if I hadn’t given up my studies as a young girl to aide as a healer during the five year war as if I wasn’t allowed to eat if the people were hungry and when we were supposed to celebrate our holidays, we stopped to mourn the burning piles. I knew since I was a child that my life didn’t matter to anyone aside from what I could do or what I could give.” 
“It fucking matters to me!” Jungkook’s patience had finally worn, you were suddenly pressed against the wall, his hand wrapped your throat with the most delicate grip as his forehead pressed against yours, “Don’t you get it you stubborn, hard headed woman? Your life matters to me, I don’t care about any tradition or belief you have if it has anything to do with dying. I just got you, I’m not letting you go.” 
It was silent for a long moment as you felt his thumb tenderly trace against your windpipe as you sniffled. 
“You could’ve just said that without picking a fight. And you didn’t have to be so mean,” Your eyes stung with tears, “Your words do hurt, I know crying won’t get Wheein back, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m terrified of what they might do to her.” 
Jungkook’s expression softened ever so slightly as you closed your eyes, a few stray tears trickling down your cheeks, “I would never cry with anyone else like this, so let me do it with you, let me share the deepest parts of my heart with you, my deepest fears and concerns, my doubts and insecurities. You say you want me, that you don’t want to lose me, then show me you want me, all of me, even the parts you don’t like, even the parts you hate.” 
“I could never hate you.” Jungkook ushered out quietly, his hand moving from your throat to your cheek, “I’m sorry.” 
He kissed your tear stained cheek somewhat hesitantly, “I’m not used to navigating feelings, or emotions, or women…” This made a small smile tug on your lips, one he mirrored briefly as his hand moved to your chin with a little squeeze, “But you talking about willingly letting yourself die makes me upset, anxious and angry, the rest of the world might look at you as nothing more then I tool but I don’t. So value your life, because I know I’m not the only one who feels this way, Wheein would be the first to agree with me.”
It made your lips quiver painfully as you glanced down, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a martyr, but I would do anything to get her back Jungkook,” Your throat strained painfully “Anything.”
Jungkook kept having these impulses every time he looked at you when you were sad, and he hadn’t noticed it until today, but finally, he caved into the feeling of just wanting to hold you. 
His arms wrapped around you, letting your head bury into the crook of his neck, your body relaxing into him as he pressed a kiss against your head making your arms squeeze around him tighter, “I know.”
You were already scared and upset with the whole situation, you didn’t want things to be worse if you and Jungkook couldn’t settle your own arguments in the process. 
Tumblr media
You had hoped maybe a good night of rest would make you feel better, but opening your eyes had only made you feel worse and Jungkook had taken a bit more of a gentle approach today at trying to get you out of bed. 
“We’ll need to speak with Taehyung before the morning is over.” Jungkook laid beside you as you tugged the blanket back over your head, rolling your back to him, “He’ll be busy tending to whatever the Seers do during the day. Y/n,” He sighed in exasperation, “I don’t mean to sound like a cunt when I say this but sulking is not going to help. And refusing to talk isn’t helping me.” 
Your hands curled around the blanket as you relented with a sigh, “I just…feel overwhelmed by everything, life has to continue on even if Wheein is in the dungeon and even if Di Jin keeps harassing the castle.” 
You turned back to face him, “It’s not that I don’t want to do something about it, it’s that I have so many other things I don’t want to do that I have to do, that so many people are counting on me making sure I get it done. It’s hard to be enthusiastic about starting the day knowing I can’t dedicate all of my time to finding a way to help Wheein.” 
“There’s only so much you can do about that situation regardless princess,” Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest as he buried into the crook of your neck, “I’ll make sure everything goes accordingly with Wheein.” 
You still let out a sigh, curling a little at his hand dragging from your waist down to your thigh as he whispered in your ear, “You wanna know what will make you feel better princess?” 
“What?” You mumbled, your curiosity peaked at his tone. 
“An orgasm.” 
“Jungkook!” You immediately sat up right as you twisted around at the cheeky grin on his face, “This is what you want to focus on when we’re in a situation like this!?” 
Jungkook shrugged, “Well I don’t see anything wrong with it, as you said before, life has to continue on and I’m being honest,” He sat up with you, “The first step to getting anything done is letting yourself relax, this is stressful enough as it is, you shouldn’t make yourself anymore taxed then necessary.” 
His lips attached to your exposed shoulder, your thin slip that you seemed to wear more often to bed these days didn’t do you much service as the thin strap fell off your shoulder. He moaned softly into your skin as his hands slid to your waist, “Let me make you feel good. Consider it another apology for last night if you must.” 
You felt obligated to say no, feeling guilty for even feeling desire at the moment when you were in such a perilous situation, but your head betrayed you, slowly tilted upward to expose your neck as his kiss traveled up, leaving a small trail of love bites along the way. 
“Is it…really okay to do this?” You whispered. 
“Only if you’re comfortable.” Jungkook pressed a small kiss on the lobe of your ear, “We don’t have too, but I do think it would make you feel better.” You glared at him playfully as he winked. 
You shifted a little before you sighed, “Well, what would you have us do?” You shifted a little nervously, there would never be a perfect time to get further intimate with Jungkook, and you would admit, something to take your mind off of things would do you some good, even if for a few minutes. 
Jungkook sat up before letting his back rest against the headboard as he gestured you closer, confused you scooted a little closer to him only for his hands to attach to your hips making you squeak in surprise at the way you were suddenly jostled. 
You were roughly manhandled into his lap with your back pressed into his chest once more as he pressed another tender kiss to your neck, “Tell me Y/n, have you ever touched yourself before?” 
The question caught you off guard making you sputter, “I- what?” You could hardly focus at the sight of his hands resting on top of your thighs, how could you be married to him for nearly nine months and only just now realize how big his hands were. 
His fingers were long and thick and his palms were rough and calloused against your soft skin, his fingers curled around your inner thighs, “Have you played with yourself before,” Jungkook let a wicked smirk curl on his lips, “You can’t tell me you haven’t ever been curious about your body.” 
Had it always been this warm in the room? Because it felt like you were burning up at the moment, “I mean yes but- I wouldn’t…Call it playing.” You tried to not squirm in his hold as he suddenly parted your legs, your night slip hardly covering your panties. 
You had been curious about your body in the past sure but you had never really understood the idea of sexual interest, and therefore you never took part in it, not understanding what the big deal was about. 
Jungkook let out a hum as he let his hand stroke from your inner thigh that had you twitching, to your night slip hooking a finger against the fabric as he lifted it, it didn’t take but a small movement to reveal your panties, a shameful damp spot revealing how much your body was receiving him. 
“You like this?” He teased lightly, a hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing lightly making a breathy noise escaping you and your legs instinctively parted further for him, “You like putting your cunt on display for me?” 
“Jungkook…” You had to shut your eyes at the lewd sight, your shoulders scrunching in embarrassment, why did he have to be so crass?
“Take your panties off.” Jungkook’s voice a few tones deeper and a little raspier than normal as his grip on your throat tightened making a more strained moan escape you shook your head, “No?” He snorted at your defiance, his free hand stroking your thigh down to your cunt making you jump before he cupped it, his palm digging into your clit making you whine out sharply. 
Your hips lifted immediately, trying to grind into his hand unsuccessfully. 
“If you want me to play with this pretty clit you have to take the panties off sweetheart,” Jungkook said, amused at the sight. 
“Jungkook, this is embarrassing!” You whined quietly to him, “What if somebody were to walk in right now?” 
“Let them.” He scoffed, “See if I give a damn who watches. In fact I hope somebody does,” Jungkook’s grip suddenly tightened on your throat making you wheeze a heady moan as he growled in your ear, “So they can see who you belong to. I wasn’t lying when I said this was my cunt, so take off the fuckin’ panties and show me who it belongs too.” 
The sudden guttural demand in his voice had you scrambling to obey as you shaky fingers curled around your panties, peeling them off before you awkwardly kept your legs closed. This however changed quickly at Jungkook’s hands, once more finding their way to your thighs as he pried them out making you whimper out at the cold air seeping against your cunt. 
“Fuuck.” Jungkook moaned against your skin and you could feel his heavy, thick cock harden against your lower back, “Your soaked baby. Look.” He didn’t give you a choice as he grabbed you by a thick chunk of hair making you whine as he forced you to look down. 
Your face felt like it was on fire at the sight of your body contorted in such a lewd position, your cunt was indeed on display and for a brief moment you couldn’t think of something more unsightly than this. 
This was what men were attracted to? Your lips were puffy and parted covered in stickiness, pubic hair sticking out unfrayed and your clit was engorged, throbbing at just the fact you were actually able to look at it.
Jungkook’s lips pressed in your neck with another moan, “Fuck princess, you have such a pretty cunt, and nobody has ever played with it at all?”
“No,” You whined out, “I already told you Jungkook, I’ve never been with someone intimately, at least for myself. Do you have to..stare?” You felt self conscious on display like this. 
“When it looks good enough to eat how can I not?” Jungkook scoffed, his free hand unable to resist the urge to drag along your sticky slit, your cunt puffy and wet as his fingers reached your clit.
A moan suddenly strangled through your parted lips, whining softly at watching his digits circle your clit as your hips buckled into him with another whimper as he moaned, “Fuck baby, you’ve never touched your clit?” He said it as if he was genuinely in confusion at how you possibly couldn’t have touched yourself before.
“I have,” You whimpered out, “It just didn’t feel good.” It didn’t feel like this, that was for damn sure, just watching his fingers skillfully glide over your clit at your back trying to arch, before they quickly started rubbing back and forth, playing with your clit like it was a little toy.
Jungkook switched from that to suddenly squeezing it between his pointer finger and middle finger, making another raspy, desperate noise escape your hips started to lift up to chase after the friction, “Jungkook please! Please don’t tease me.” You whimpered out desperately. 
Jungkook chuckled at this, releasing your clit from his fingers just to pinch it once more with his thumb and pointer finger, “You’re so needy, every time I try something new you moan even louder.” 
He pinched it even harder making you yelp at the painful pleasure that washed over you before he roughly circled it again, “Keep moaning sweetheart, it lets me know what you like and what you don’t.” 
That's when you realized he meant what he was saying, his eyes were low but inquisitive, as if trying to figure out what made you tick, what made your body squirm the hardest, what made you moan the loudest, your body was a map he was determined to not only study but memorize. 
Your hand frantically found his as you whimpered, “Right there! Kook, right there! Please.” The pleasure had your muscles clenching as the pad of his finger kept rubbing that sweet spot on the side of your clit that had your back arching and whines becoming increasingly loud. 
Jungkook chuckled in your ear, “Look at you, using my hand to make yourself cum, that’s a little greedy for a Eunoian. Are you gonna cum princess?” 
He watched, mesmerized by the way your body contorted and bounced as you grinded against his fingers, which were completely soaked in your arousal as he feathered his pad over your sweet spot. 
The straps to your slip had finally fallen to your shoulders, causing your top to finally slip down, making your tits fall out as you fell apart on his fingers, your eyes squeezing shut and your body convulsing at the pleasure that was blossoming so quickly in your cunt. 
“Cum baby, I know you want to.” Jungkook teased, “I know that little clit feels good, let yourself cum princess.” 
Jungkook let out a grunt at the sight of your lips falling slack, moans suddenly ripping from your throat as you whines became high pitched, hands suddenly clawing at his neck, yanking at his hair as you came. 
“Mmm what a good girl.” Jungkook moaned into your neck, his cock throbbing so hard he felt like he could pass out, it was one thing to imagine these types of moments with you, but to actually be able to experience them was a different kind of pleasure he didn’t even know could exist. 
Your mind was so hazy from your orgasm you hardly noticed his fingers stroking your cunt before a single digit circled your entrance, playing with it a little as Jungkook carefully coated his finger in your arousal before he pushed in it. 
“Ow!” You suddenly yelped in a very unsexy way, jolting up right and out of your hazy post orgasm feeling as you whimpered out at the sight, “Jungkook! Ah…! It hurts!” You whined in complaint, his finger felt foreign inside of you and just like you knew, it was thick and bigger then your own and the stretch made your cunt dully ache. 
“Wow, so Seokjin really never touched you?” Junkook said it as if he was examining to see if you were actually telling the truth. 
You lip curled as you snapped, “Did we not establish that I was a virgin on our wedding night? Why are you so hyperfixated on this?” 
“Because,” Jungkook rested his chin on your shoulder, pulling his finger from your cunt making you sigh in relief as he dragged it back up to your clit, tapping it, “The idea of anyone- let alone him getting to see this makes me want to travel all the way to Kimhae and fucking kill him.” 
He pushed his finger back in but much to your surprise it didn’t hurt, you seemed almost taken aback by this, watching in morbid fascination as his thick finger sunk deeper into your cunt, your legs parting a little further for him. 
You moaned quietly at his finger testingly pushing up before he thrusted it a little inside you making you whine as your hips lifted and lowered a little to chase the feeling. 
“Just the idea of him getting to see this pretty little fucked out face makes me livid,” Jungkook whispered, unable to even be angry at the moment before of the expression your wore, your pupils were blown out and your lips parted at the sight of his finger now rhythmically pumping into you before he pushed a second one in.
It made you wince at the uncomfortable fit, before Jungkook pulled both fingers out and pushed them back in making your lips tremble at watching them sink deeper and deeper into your cunt, your walls clenching around him as he buried them both until his knuckle were flush against your skin.
“Fuck…” You whimpered out, closing your eyes at the overwhelm of being able to feel his fingers so deep inside your cunt, Jungkook, “‘s not fair, wanna make you feel good too…” 
“Sweetheart, shit, you are so fucked out on my fingers, imagine what it’s gonna be like when you’re taking my cock.” Jungkook moaned in your ear, feeling your walls wrap tight around his fingers at his words as he pumped them in a little rougher, making a point to rub his fingertips against the top of your walls.
It felt as if he was searching for something and you didn’t realize what it was until you felt it, his fingers pushing particularly deep this time, hooking as pleasure suddenly shot through your body making you lurch and a loud moan rip from your lips. 
“Fuck there it is, that’s it sweetheat.” Jungkook’s fingers viciously began to attack this spot, rapidly lifting into the spot as his thrusts began short and rough. 
The pleasure had you contorting in painful positions as you whined slurred words out, “Wanna make you feel good too, Kook! Please, please!” 
“Dammit sweetheart, this is supposed to be about you.” Jungkook growled in frustration at how hard his cock was because you kept moaning about this. 
“Wan’ it.” You whined out moaning loudly, his fingers unforgivingly hooking into that spot roughly, you could feel his other arm against your back maneuvering in awkward ways and though you were very pleasured it was difficult to not notice. 
You didn’t understand what he was doing until you saw it, or more like it saw you. His cock suddenly appeared just inches below your cunt, it bobbed a little, smacking against you making you jolt in shock, even with pleasure still blossoming in your body your mouth dried. 
It was so…big
You had felt it before but you had never seen it, and it was so thick and fat, just like his hand, his cock had the prettiest thick vein and it curved just slightly, his head was fat and bulbous, a painful shade of red showing just how hard he had been this whole time and precum kept dribbling from his slit. 
“You wanted it that fuckin’ bad.” Jungkook grabbed your hand before, guiding it past your cunt to wrap around his cock, “Wanna’ feel that wet little cunt.” He guided your hand to give it a few tugs, before he lowered your body a little, your cunt pressing against the top base of his cock, making you let out a breathy moan. 
His fingers started properly thrusting into you once again as you body twitched, eyes nearly rolling back into your head at the stimulation of the feeling of his fat cock being covered in your arousal, your hand giving sloppy, frantic tugs against his cock making him moan into your shoulder.
Your hips quickly start trying to rut into his as you grabbed his hand, forcing his fingers out of your cunt as you rubbed it against his shaft, letting your clit press against it with a loud whine, reaching down to squeeze his fat balls. 
“Fuck, fuck fuck baby, ‘m gonna cum.” Jungkook moaned into your neck as his hips started to rut into you, his eyes hazily watching his cock slide between your glossy lips, arousal messily covering his cock as his tip roughly dragged over your clit making slurred moans escape you. 
“Wan’ you to cum.” You mewled out watching in desperation at the idea of this being inside of you, how would you even be able to take it without being torn in half? His fat tip reached your belly button. 
Your hand wrapped around his cock, holding it against your cunt as Jungkook’s hips became more frantic, “Gonna fuckin’ cum all over you if you keep saying that sweetheart.”
“Cum! Cum, cum please! Wan’ you to cum all over my cunt.” You whined and begged at the sight of precum dripping from his tip.
Jungkook swore out with a growl, his hands digging into your hips, “Bet you wish this was your cunt right now I was fucking, this little cunt is so tiny I don’t even think you could take half of my cock sweetheart.” 
“Kook!” You whimpered out at his forceful, frantic thrusts, one hand lifting your leg up further as his fat tip rubbed past your clit once more. 
“Oh don’t worry baby, I’ll fuck you in this exact position.” Jungkook smirked wickedly against your neck, “I’ll make you watch every fuckin’ second of it too. Fuck princess,” He moaned his hips began to slow, eager to drag out the last moments before he’d finally cave, his cock sliding through your lips once more, he could feel your engorged little bud as he bulbous tip rubbed against it making you whine before let out a deep moan. 
Cum spewed from his tip as your mouth dried at the sight, his thrusts stopped in nirvana but your hand kept tugging his cock in awe, wanting every last drop he had to offer as he moaned wetly against your skin. 
His thighs clenched as he moaned, “Fuck princess, that’s it, yeah fuck, just like that.” He moaned encouragingly in your ear as you stroked his shaft, causing another gob of cum to spill from his tip, this time dribbling down onto your stomach as you reached down further to play with his fat soft balls while using your other hand to tug at his base.
“Fuuck baby.” He moaned into your skin his cock trying to soften but he showed now signs of stopping you despite the increased sensitivity before a spurt of cum shot out before he started swearing out, biting his lip as the pain and pleasure heightened. 
Jungkook let out a breathy moan at the pain of your hand wrapping around his cock, roughly thrusting as he jolted and jumped but at no point did he stop you, in fact he seemed to enjoy the pain and just like magic, you watched his cock start to harden again.
Growing just as monstrous as it was before.
You moaned raggedly before you shifted a little, setting yourself upright before dragging your cunt along his shaft, your hips dragging against it with a loud moan as Jungkook growled out, “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum again baby, relax.”  
You let out a breathy giggle, collapsing your back against his chest as you spread your legs once more, resuming your original position as you pressed his cock back against your cunt, pumping it rapidly, his muscles twitched rapidly before his hips caved. 
Roughly thrusting up into you again as his cock slid between your cunt once more before cum suddenly spurted once more, covering your already messy stomach in even more cum as you moaned, gently tugging his cock to coax more cum, it dribbled and leaked, not nearly as big of a load this time as Jungkook moaned his hips swiveling to prolong his orgasm. 
His cock began to soften and his hand suddenly grabbed your wrist to stop from trying to get it up again, “This was supposed to be about you,” Despite his post orgasm haze he still growled in displeasure, “Fucking brat.” 
One moment his hand was wrapped around your wrist, the next it had released it and shoved two fingers inside you, suddenly fucking you hard and fast making you whine out loud, his thumb somehow managing to rub into your clit causing your back to arch and a loud moan to escape. 
“Yeah? Doesn’t fuckin’ feel good after the first one.” Jungkook taunted you as he roughly thrusted his fingers inside you, his thumb teasingly circling your sensitive clit as your thighs twitched, your eyes glued to the way he was buried knuckles deep into your cunt. 
“Fuck, fuck, kook, ah…! Ah.” Your whines were getting louder and louder much to his delight, your walls getting tighter and tighter each time his fingertips jammed into your g-spot and his thumb found that sweet little spot on your clit with each pass. 
“Doesn’t feel nice cumming so fast does it?” He growled out, “Go, cum like you made me. Get it everywhere. Can feel this little cunt squeezing around me, you gonna squirt all over the bed? Bet you don’t even fuckin’ know what that is babydoll.” 
The pleasure was becoming so strong it started to become uncomfortable in your cunt, your walls suddenly began to rapidly relax and squeeze at each of his fingers thrusts, his fingertips rubbing into your g-spot and his thumb dragging over your clit.
“Feels weird! Kook’ ah..! You whimpered out, body frantically contorting and your cunt blossoming in a weird pleasure. 
“I got you sweetheart,” Jungkook moaned in your ear, “‘s gonna feel so good princess, c’mon ‘s gonna feel so fuckin’ good.” 
You rapidly shook your head, your walls rapidly clenching and your muscles spasming as Jungkook’s thrusts became short and rough, his thumb rubbing rough circles into your abused clit, “Cum.”
The single word made a scream rip from your throat, tears tricking down your face as you came, liquid suddenly spewed from your tiny hole as Jungkook moaned, “Good girl, fuck, get it everywhere baby, fuck yeah, that’s it.” 
The pleasure was so intense you were in tears, sobbing out moans as his fingers pulling out of you, to rub your clit making you throw your head back against him before his fingers shoved back inside you rapidly thrusting making more liquid spew from your hole as your body convulsed, “F-fuck!” You cried out loud. 
You were positive you blacked out for one blissful moment before Jungkook released his fingers from you with a long moan, his hands comfortingly rubbing down your waist. 
“Fuck princess,” He kissed your neck with feathery kisses, “My good girl did so good. Good girl.” Your eyes felt heavy at the feeling of his kiss. 
Just his words drew a whine from you, his hands coaxingly rubbing your thighs as he pressed a wet kiss against your neck, “Mm, we need to get dressed.” 
“You can’t just do this to me and then leave me.” You whimpered out, grabbing hands to wrap them back around you once more. 
Jungkook snorted at this, another kiss traveling further up your neck, “We’ll be leaving together in case you forgot.” 
“I don’t think I can walk.” 
“You are, without a doubt, the most stubborn women I’ve ever met.” Jungkook mused, “And possibly more than I ever bargained for.” 
Tumblr media
You could indeed walk, though a bit awkward at first while Jungkook helped you dress, it didn’t surpass your eyes, the tug on his lips in amusement with every wobble or need to grab his shoulder to stabilize yourself. 
If this was the aftermath of him only using his fingers, you can’t possibly imagine when he…Just the thought made you suck in a deep breath. Jungkook eyes flickered to your form, your arm hooked around his as you both made your way through the castle. 
“Have you noticed?” He asked, eyes lingering on you only for a moment longer before looking ahead once more. 
You could only assume he was insinuating at everyone’s stares and whispers.
“It’s rather difficult to not.” You muttered.
After exiting the courtyard and passing through the meadow to the entrance of the forest, only after you passed through the tall oak tree’s, did you feel you could breath. The sound of birds trilling and the sun lazily peaking through the naked branches gave you a sense of peace you had nearly forgotten about it.
Leaves crunched beneath your feet as your eyes wandered over the vastness of the forest that seemed to stretch on and on, now that the tree��s were naked it seemed the forest was so much more barren than before. 
“Does it look like this? In Eunoia?” Jungkook asked, noting your gaze that seemed to wander. 
“Somewhat,” You admitted, “Winters are mild at best in Eunoia- at least in comparison to Penumbra. The most we get is a bit of a frost on the coldest days, just enough for leaves to fall- not all though. Many still stand their ground.” 
“Frost on the coldest days?” Jungkook’s head snapped to look at you as if you said something bizarre.
This caused a reluctant smile to tug on your lips as you curled your arm around his further, “Yes, some have called Eunoia the capital of the Sun. Our days are always sunny and warm, we’ve never known a true winter.”
“I can tell,” Jungkook replied, his eyes drifted from yours to your attire, “Is that why you’re dressed like it’s already snowed?” 
You looked down at the thick warm sleeves of your dress,they were dramatically long, going far past your hands though a slit made it easy to use your hands if needed, the color a deep maroon that could be mistaken for black if one didn’t pay attention.
“There was frost on the ground this morning.” You replied, a huff escaping your lips, “I suppose the odd looks the servants gave me when I requested my winter wardrobe make sense now.” 
You were too embarrassed to admit you were still cold, even in a winter gown, your dress even collared around your neck, making you feel admittedly strangled but any warmth was welcomed. 
“How will you survive winter here if you can’t make it past the first brisk frost without one of the thickest gowns in your wardrobe?” Jungkook mused, making you glare at him, a pout sporting on your lips. 
“Thickest gowns? This?” You gestured to yourself making him chuckle as he shook his head, “Well that simply won’t do at all, I’ll go to the seamstress myself if I must, I may be married into Jeon royalty but I don’t carry your northern blood.” The pout was still prominent on your lips, “Your brisk day is one of Eunoia’s coldest days, need I reiterate?” 
Jungkook shook his head but the smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, “As if you didn’t have enough gowns as it was, I’ll be sure to let the seamstress make your request known.” 
“Well you’re the one that handles my wardrobe,” Your pupils narrowed, “Now that I think about it, why shouldn’t I be the one in control of it? After all, I am the one wearing them.” 
“Because i’d like to think in someways-” You gasped at suddenly being pushed against the thick, tall oak that stood proud, “You enjoy giving me control.” Jungkook’s hand snaked around your head, grabbing a fist full of hair as he gave it a small yank, “If your display this morning was anything to go by.” 
“Jungkook.” 
It was not your voice who said his name however, within a second Jungkook had let you go, the air around you both sobering by the second as Jungkook looked over his shoulder, “Taehyung.” He nodded, a frown setting on his lips as you somewhat flusteredly brushed off your dress.
Just seeing the look on Taehyung’s face made a tidal wave of guilt wash over you. How could you stand here and act like a girl with a crush when someone’s life was at stake?
You peered from behind Jungkook and one look was all it took for the sickening feeling to rush back into your stomach once more, Taehyung looked vehement, his eyes tired and anger evident if his icy glare was anything to go by. 
“Have you both come to celebrate? Now that you’ve finally captured the assassin.” Taehyung’s lip twitched as his eyes burned into you. 
“Celebrate?” You echoed in hurt, immediately stepping past Jungkook, “Taehyung I would never celebrate this! We are doing everything in our power to get her back I-” 
“Well you were the one who let her go to begin with,” He hissed out lowly, his glowering from his hooded figure, “How am I to know that maybe this wasn’t just a calculated tactic?”
You felt your throat dry at his words, it was one thing to handle Jungkook when he was being unfair to you, but how would you deal with another? Let alone one of the first of Penumbra’s kin to show you kindness. 
“Calculated tactic?” The hurt in your voice was evident, making Taehyung’s nostrils flair. 
“Yes, after all rumors of you-”
“Enough.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the air like ice, an arm wrapped around you pulling you closer to his side, “We’ve come in grief and sobriety to apologize this is happening and that we are going to get Wheein back. I understand you’re upset, within reason to be,” 
Jungkook’s pupils narrowed as his voice grew as cold as the chilled wind that blew by, “But heed your words to my wife and your future Queen.” 
You were too stunned to even speak, hurt still expressed on your face at the insinuation that you had purposely done this to her, you would never! 
Taehyung’s lip twitched, “Is that a threat, Your Highness?” 
“My words are plain,” Jungkook replied, his eyes cutting low, “Take them as they are, we’ll leave you to be.”
“That would be for the best.” Taehyung’s hood lowered if only a little, those gray eyes glaring into you and even when you walked away from him you could feel his gaze burning into your back. 
To say you were horrified, was an understatement. 
Tumblr media
While Jungkook did not wish to depart with you he had reluctantly done so, but not before trying to ease your distraught at Taehyung’s words, what was he going to say if Jungkook had let him finish? 
It made you anxiously pick at your nails, hardly able to even focus on your book as you heard a voice clear making you glance up. Namjoon gave a small bow and a sad smile, “How have your studies been coming along Princess?” 
“Terribly,” You admitted with a sigh, “How do you not let something consume you Namjoon?” 
It was a rhetorical question you had been asking yourself all day as you stared up at the ceiling, murals of battles painted in glorious displays, ones you had seen while walking in but had never paid attention to until now. 
“I think,” Namjoon paused as if to gather his thoughts, “Love is a worthy contender to be consumed by.” 
This made your gaze shoot back down at him as you cocked your head to the side as he smiled wryly, “Apologies, I enjoy a good tragedy every now and then. Love can consume, but it can also save, you should honor your emotions where they’re at. These are unprecedented times.” 
“That is a particular choice of words.” You mumbled staring down at your book but no matter how hard you tried, words were simply words, not a sentence nor a passage that gave your mind any relief to its occupied thoughts. 
“They are, but it’s the truth,” Namjoon frowned as he looked away, “Princess…” He paused as if debating his words, “Many things are afoot right now, the expansion on the East has officially been put on hold, the west is stirring with restlessness, and now Di Jin has been enlisted to reopen a fresh wound of Mabon.”
“What is it you are trying to say Namjoon.” You sighed as you looked up at him, you wished everyone would stop speaking to you in riddles, why was it you could not hear Taehyung’s full words? Even if they were hurtful, you had the right to know. 
“I am saying…that though we may not fully understand why these things are happening, to be prepared Princess.” Namjoon gave you one last smile before he stood up and gave you a small bow before departing. 
You sank further into your seat as you let out a small sigh, “Fucking hell.” 
“That kind of language is not befitting of a Princess.” 
You jumped upright in your seat once more at the voice that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, your eyes darted to your right where the beautiful- yet ugly sight of the Rosewood Knight Claudin appeared from. 
“Are you here to just mock me?” Your voice grew cold as your eyes glared at him, time may have moved forward but his attempted assault on you and siding with Seohyun was not easily forgotten. 
This made a thin, snake like smile tug on Claudin’s lips, “Anything but, Your Highness.” 
Your hands slowly curled into fists as your patience wore thin, you had been known by your family to have a temper your whole life- this was without a doubt true, but to consider violence? This was a first, and right now Claudin’s face was looking more and more like a punching bag each time he spoke. 
“You’re tired of everyone speaking to you in riddles? Isn’t that right?” Claudin strolled closer to you making you frown but did not speak further. He paused for a moment only to smile once more, your curiosity was piqued. 
“Then let me speak plainly to you Princess,” He kneeled down in front of you, “Penumbra’s trust in you is failing, immensely with each passing day. They no longer trust you. Dare I say some never did.”
It was an ugly truth that made you want to vehemently deny it, “What have I done to warrant this!? I have done nothing but try my best to become a Penumbrian.”
“I know Princess,” Claudin’s voice is oddly soft, as if laments for you, “But it is not what you’ve done, it is what Eunoia has done.” 
“...What of my homeland?” You frowned, your gaze weary and catious, could you truly trust anything that came from this man’s mouth?
Jungkook hadn’t mentioned anything about Eunoia to you. 
Claudin frowned at this, “I thought you would’ve heard Princess…” He paused for a moment as if gauging your reaction, “Eunoia has enlisted their kingdoms people into fortifying an army with Kimhae.” 
“Eunoia would never-”
“I am merely telling you what’s been running rampant on the streets,” Claudin replied calmly, still kneeled at your feet, “Telling you what nobody else dare does, you want plain words, here they are. It’s come across to Penumbra, that Eunoia is conspiring with Kimhae. Why else would they need an army?” 
“What source did you get this from?” Your lip twitched in anger. 
“Source?” Claudin smiled in humor, “This is common knowledge Princess. Or has the Prince just really kept you this in the dark? And from your own kin at that...” 
You don’t even know what possessed you in the moment but your temper had finally gotten the best of you, slapping him right across the face, “Enough! I won’t listen to any more of these lies of your weaving,” You stood up, towering over him as you glowered, “I don’t know what game you’re playing Rosewood, but it’s going to get you killed.” 
“But these are not lies Princess,” Claudin gritted his teeth, his hand grabbing your wrist making you try to yank away, “If you do not believe me, then perhaps you should go out into the streets yourself. Learn the truth nobody else in this castle will tell you.” 
You only managed to escape his grip from wringing your hand from the silk black glove you wore. The material still in his hand as you briskly walked out of the room. 
What did he know anyways? Eunoia, conscripting an army? Only the coldest day in hell would see that through. 
Tumblr media
Even long into the night you still laid awake, mind restless as you shuffled in bed, laying down as you glanced at the dark hair of your husband who had been exhausted from the day, soundlessly sleeping beside you. 
His hair was darker then you remembered upon first meeting him and it was a fair bit longer too, now brushing over his lids as he slept, moving a little as if discontented, his hands extended out in reach of something. 
Your eyes stared at his hand, only an inch away from where it had been resting on your waist previously before you had shifted for a little space to move about without disturbing him. 
Just because you couldn't sleep didn’t mean he didn’t deserve too. 
Had he really been withholding information about Eunoia from you? You had been aware from the beginning that being in the castle kept you isolated to a certain degree, and that you would slowly become out of the loop of politics of the outside world due to being an outsider and Jungkook’s wife. 
But you…something swelled in your chest, there was no denying you and Jungkook had grown close over these last few months, if you both sharing a bed willingly every night was any assumption to go on. 
So surely he would’ve told you this information had he known it, and he would have to know this, because he was the Crowned Prince, heir to the throne, which meant, Claudin was surely lying. 
Yes, Claudin was simply lying to get under your skin and weasel his way to further his agenda, whatever that was. 
You closed your eyes contented, intending to shuffle a little closer to Jungkook once more, who’s brows were pinched, still in a sign of discontentment. 
‘Meet me in the Fool’s Barrel at past 2 if you seek the truth’ 
Your eyes snapped back open at the memory of the single sentence left on a piece of parchment at your nightstand earlier before you finally got up, quietly standing before you glanced back at Jungkook, the night was long after all, and surely he wouldn’t miss you in the time you’d be gone. 
With that you shuffled through your wardrobe for something suitable for the occasion before going over to Jungkook’s side of the bed, grabbing the sheathed knife from his stand before pressing a gentle kiss atop of his head. 
The parchment was rolled tightly in your grip and your dull brown hood was pulled low as you managed to sneak out during the guards rotation and Yoongi was talking with a fellow guard at the corner of the corridor.
The halls were dark and dim and just as this morning you felt stifled here, at the gates of the courtyard did you finally consider that this was reckless, if not entirely stupid.
Did it truly matter whether you knew or not? 
Your hand nearly crumpled the paper in anger, it did matter to you, it was your right to know what people thought of you, good or bad, and nobody had the right to keep that from you.
Your hand ghosted over the dagger strapped to your waist before you fixed your hood once more stepping outside the gate. 
The tavern was lively and bustling, unshocking for this hour, nobody paid you any mind with your hood as low as it was, unsuspecting that they were amidst their princess, searching through the tavern, the very same one you had made a total fool of yourself in earlier in the year, you found the person you were looking for. 
Claudin was leaned against one of the wooden beams, a hood on himself and a cat like smirk coiling on his lips as he held up your missing glove, “Here to take my offer Princess?” 
You snatched it from his hand, “If you so much as even put a hand on me, I will slit your throat.” You whispered to him.
This made him chuckle as if amused, “So the Eunoian bitch really does have a temper to match the title. Follow me Princess.” 
The Eunoian Bitch.
You weren’t that familiar with the title until you had come to Penumbra and your husband had made you well acquainted with it, and though you never inquired further about it to Wheein it wasn’t difficult to tell how the title had come about. 
You wouldn’t deny your temper, Jungkook had gotten to see it in full force when you first married, the title once upon a time insulted you but you had grown past it at this point, you wouldn’t be insulted, it seemed men loved to call you a bitch because you were not a pushover. 
Men were allowed to throw tantrums all the time without the blink of an eye, Dae Seong was living proof of it and yet nobody gave him a title for it.
You had followed behind Claudin closely as he exited through the backside of the tavern and led you down the increasingly narrow halls of the city that you didn’t even think existed, it was as if he was leading you to something of secret. 
And after Claudin had weaved and webbed his way through these increasingly dark and unsettling alleyways did you realize, this was exactly what he was doing, you heard the commotion before you saw it. 
Exiting the alleyway to reveal a well lit area of what looked like a crowded market place, though the stalls could hardly be seen as such. 
Claudin looked up from his hood towards ahead and then at you, “Welcome to the Underside. If you want information, this is where you shall find it.” 
Your eyes had gone wide at all the spectacles as you followed beside Claudin, fixing your hood a little lower as you watched a man breath fire from his mouth and the loud cackling of women before the shouts of a thief that shoved between you both. 
It was clear, you were in the belly of Penumbra’s criminal activity, just the thought made your hand ghost over the wickedly curved dagger strapped to your hip. You had never shed blood other than your own before,  you had taken an oath to never kill when you had first become a healer during the five year war, not only this but as a part of the royal family of Eunoia you had to vow that not only would you never kill but you would never devour as your earlier predecessors once did.
You could hardly stomach the sight of watching someone be killed, let alone killing someone yourself, but Penumbra had a certain way of hardening you these days. After all, you did just threaten to slice Claudin’s neck open if he tried anything on you. 
This was unsafe, and surely reckless, but you wanted answers and you wouldn’t back out now to get them. Claudin seemed delighted by the sternness in your expression, refusing to back away from the danger of this perilous situation as he guided you through the rowdy streets. 
Rounding the corner there was a crowd ahead making you tilt your head as you glanced at Claudin who only nodded ahead, both of you coming closer to the spectacle that you immediately deduced was a mockery of…you.
Your lip twitched in simmering anger at the mockery dress and hair of a man who’s voice pitched high, annoyingly so as he flounced about with the narrator, vacillating between ditsy and vexing.
“This is how they view you,” Claudin leaned in at your side as the crowd cackled at the man, “A predator dressed as prey, a Eunoian spy, here to cause our downfall.” 
“Now whatever shall our Bitch do!? Attempted murder afoot but wait! What is this between her breasts!” 
Your expression was deadpan as you watched the man grab a scroll from between his fake set of breasts, one even falling out revealing a bundle of cloth making everyone gag, “Ahem!” He coughed out high pitch, unrolling it as he read, “Oh dear husband! It appears my kingdom is on our borders! How could you not have seen? This was my plan all along!”
They placed a crown on his head which warranted boo’s from the crown, “Down with The Eunoian Bitch!” Someone cried from the crowd. 
You shook your head unable to watch any longer as you brushed past Claudin, eyes darting between the various sights on the streets, a group of four men continuously kicking a young boy, the prostitute against the wall with a man, and on the far side a crowd of people cheering as they threw darts and knives at wall, a poor imagine of your face as the target. 
“You’re upset.” Claudin followed after you with a remark.
“Of course I’m upset!” You hissed out, whirling around, “I’m being accused of something I didn’t do! My entire country is being accused of something we didn’t do- haven’t even done! Take me back to the castle.” 
Claudin shifted his foot with exasperation but was cut short with the cold metal pressing into his neck, “I said take me back to the fucking castle, now.”
Claudin held up his hands in a mock of surrender,  “You and your husband share an odd similarity of barbarously threatening me.”
Your lip twitched and your grip on the blade didn’t relent, “Maybe if you weren’t such a cunt that wouldn’t happen to you. Castle. Now.” 
“If you so wish, my Princess.” Claudin resisted no more as you sheath your weapon following stiffly behind him the whole way home. 
A spy…they thought you were a spy sent by Eunoia? You had learned to ignore the slanders thrown your way, but to have your whole kingdom’s credibility question? As if Eunoia didn’t house the fallen kingdom of Seoul? As if Eunoia wasn’t held responsible and damn near torn apart by the continent when Penumbra raised?
It was beyond just an insult, it was treasonness to even think about it. 
The castle was…much busier than when you had left, Claudin departed with you at the gates as you dismissed him, arriving by yourself only to swear at the sight of your knight walking towards you with hell's fury. 
“Where the hell have you been Princess!” Yoongi hissed out, grabbing your arm vehemently, “Do you want the Prince to kill me?” 
“Shit,” You ushered out, “What’s happened?” 
Yoongi gritted his teeth, “You mean to ask what’s going on after you snuck out past hours without telling me or anyone else, let alone your husband, what’s going on?” 
You deserved to be reprimanded, you knew that much but that didn’t mean you wanted to deal with it, you groaned, “Did he call for a search?” 
“Of course he did, Jungkook nearly had my head on a pike when I told him I thought you were with him,” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, “Where were you?” 
“...” You said nothing for a long moment, your expression troubled as you sighed, Jungkook was not supposed to wake up to find you missing, how were you supposed to tell him you went into the depths of a crime ridden area only to discover many ugly truths tonight, ones he had most likely kept hidden from you. 
“Where did you go Princess?” Yoongi ushered, now concerned. 
“I went to the Underside.” 
“Fucking hell!” Yoongi ran a hand through his head again, “Do you know how incredibly stupid that was! Without anyone to protect you!? Penumbra may not be as pious as other kingdoms but rumors still run rampant.” 
“Yes,” Your gaze grew cold, “I’ve become aware as much.” 
Yoongi frowned at this, and you could tell by the look on his face he knew, they all knew, didn’t they? “Come along Princess, let’s get you into the parlor, the others are trying to keep Jungkook from ripping the city apart to find you.” 
You felt a stab of guilt at his words as you followed alongside him into the castle where residents all gawked at you as you kept your hood up, covering your face from their judgmental looks. 
Yoongi weaved his way through the corridors before the doors of the parlor were opened, the first person to whip around being the distraught figure of your husband. 
“Y/n.” 
Your hood was pulled down before he immediately embraced you, his muscles which had been previously tensed had relaxed as he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, “You worried me sick,” He chastised you, “Where did you go? You should’ve told Yoongi- better yet taken him with you!” 
Jungkook cupped your cheeks as he pulled you away a little to inspect your face, making sure you were uninjured, “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, lips quivering only a little in both hurt and confusion at everything you were digesting. 
“Where did you go, Y/n?” Jungkook asked you once more, this time his voice was a little more calm, releasing you upon hearing you try to clear your dry throat. 
Walking over to the table where a pitcher of water was, you poured yourself a glass, glancing between your husband to the two other figures in the room, both his aunt and uncle, Areum and Jeong Dae as the least wanted person at this time walked into the room.
“Ah what coincidental timing.” Di Jin had walked in behind you, everybody's eyes staring at him for a long moment, “Because I just received word that the Princess was spotted coming out of the Underside.” 
The room erupted into worse chaos then you could have expected. “My wife would never step foot in that pit you caused.” Jungkook snarled out.
“It’s true.” You muttered, unable to see the two men baring teeth at one another and despite your low tone it caused silence throughout the whole room.
“Out. The lot of you, these are matters for the family only.” Areum’s voice followed after you as her eyes narrowed on both your friends and servants alike and with that everyone departed.
“Feeling honest, are we Princess?” Di Jin looked haughty at you.
“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was wrought with anger, though it was obvious he was trying to keep himself calm, “Why?”
It was like the dam you held your anger in snapped out, rushing out and into every vein in your body as you slammed your cup down, “Why don’t we talk about how everyone’s been keeping me in the fucking dark!”
Everyone looked taken aback by your heated glare, “Talks of Eunoia raising an army and sending me as a spy while consorting with Kimhae!?” You spat out glaring at all of your in laws.
And the oddest thing happened, it could’ve been a trick of your eyes, but you could’ve sworn you had seen Jungkook visibly flinch at the words. 
His eyes were like steel as you glared at him.
“And you knew it! Didn’t you?” You pointed an accusing finger at him as he looked away from you.
Di Jin let out a loud laugh bringing your attention to him, “Well let’s be honest here dear, everyone in this room has suspicions of you being a spy.” 
“Stay out of this.” You snapped, “My affairs with my husband are no concern of yours.” 
“Oh but it seems they are.” Di Jin had a sneering smile on his face as he held up the paper he held in his hand.
“Di Jin.” Jungkook’s voice was low in warning.
You snatched the paper from his hand before Jungkook could even stop you walking away from him and closer to the fire, the only noise being the snaps and crackles as everyone looked at you tensed. 
The more you read the tighter your grip became as Di Jin spoke, “Interesting, how even your husband assumed you were a spy? Was it not?” He hummed innocently, “I’ll be watching you very closely from now on girl, lest a case of treason be opened against you.” 
Your eyes only glared down at the paper, Jungkook’s royal emblem no mistake and the date an even harsher blow to your heart as tears of wrath began to blur in your vision, “Leave. Now.” 
Di Jin frowned at this, perhaps hoping for a more expressive reaction from you, as if he was trying to get you to dig yourself a hole, but you would not submit yourself to that, you would not allow him to weave his little web of instigation any further. 
“You heard her Wolf.” Areum frowned deeply, walking to stand in front of him as her eyes burned like coals, “Your duties are done for the evening..” 
“You're welcome.” Di Jin sneered one last smile before exiting. 
The door shut quietly behind him as your lips quivered and your nails nearly torn through the paper, trying to calm your breaths down but truthfully, you were rendered speechless. Everything you had become accustomed to, the delicate, tender blossom that was slowly growing between you and Jungkook felt as if it had been abruptly yanked from the ground and stamped under a boot. 
Jungkook had grown anxious at your expression, you were abhorrently livid, if your body language was anything to go by, “Y/n,” He finally sighed out, “What did you expect me to do? It’s no secret that the court has doubted you from the very moment-”
“This isn’t about the fucking court!” You hissed out, every ounce of self restraint thrown out the window as you marched over to him, “This isn’t about Di Jin, this isn’t about anyone but you! What the fuck is this!?” You cried out shoving the parchment into his chest, pain wrought in your expression, eyes glaring with rage and betrayal, “After everything we’ve been through together!?”
You ran your hands though your hair trying to calm down your rapidly beating heart, tears vehemently stinging your eyes as you shook your head, “I’ve have bared my soul to you, again and again, I- I have tried my best to understand Penumbra, your culture, you. For months! And I…” 
You closed your eyes, letting the defeated tears trickled down your face, “I genuinely believed that you…” You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the words that squeezed too tightly in your throat, a sob finally bubbling from your lips, “Why!?” You whimpered out, finally staring at him, “Why did you not tell me about Eunoia? Or the rumors, or…or any of it!” 
It would be one thing if he had this investigated when you had first arrived in Penumbra, but he didn’t, this was recent, too recent. All of your fresh memories with him spiraling in your head, the intimacy you had nervously shared with him.
“Because, what if it was true?” Jungkook’s jaw clenched, “I don’t take any pleasure saying that Y/n! But I needed to be sure that you weren’t playing a game with me.” 
Your lips trembled in disbelief as warm tears dripped down your face, “No I said those words to you!” You pointed an accusing finger at him, “I asked you those same words and you looked me in the eyes and lied to me!”
“I wasn’t lying to you!” Jungkook immediately hissed back, “I’m not in a forgiving position! I needed to know you were on my side for certain and those words I said were not a lie! I don’t expect you to understand, nor do I expect your forgiveness, but I did what I had to do!” 
You stared at him for a long moment in disbelief, tears dripping down your chin as Jungkook sighed, cupping your cheeks as he brushed the tears away, “I’ve meant every word I’ve said to you, and the feelings I have, it’s all real.” He pressed his forehead against yours, “But you can’t expect me to have zero doubts in your credibility, you were going to marry the Prince of the kingdom that took great pleasure in slaughtering my people.”
“That isn’t fair Jungkook!” You tried to bite back your sob, your heart as if it was being torn to shreds, “Everything you’re saying isn’t fair! You know it isn’t!” 
“Life isn’t fair and it isn’t kind Y/n,” Jungkook frowned at the new tears that dripped down your face, “I’m only sorry that I’m the one having to tell you this.” 
“Fuck you!” You spat at him, shoving him away, “Paint it how you want, but it doesn’t change what you did, you choose to not trust me. You choose to have me investigated and you choose to look me in the eyes and tell me this was not a game to you.”
“Y/n-”
“No.” You snapped sharply, looking up at him as your voice trembled softly, “Me and you, we’re done. You’re right, you don’t deserve my forgiveness nor my understanding. The only thing we have left is the fact that we’re both bitches serving the same crown. You are nothing more than a liar Jungkook.”
“You don’t mean that.” Jungkook shook his head, his jaw clenching. 
“I mean every fucking word.” You seethed.
You turned around, shoving the doors open to the room as you shoved the tears from your eyes, everyone had looked at you in baited breath but you only walked over to Yoongi, “Take me to my room. My room, please.” 
Yoongi had parted his lips but said no more, doing as you asked as you shoved the tears from your eyes, trying to pick up the broken pieces of your heart that laid cracked and shattered from Jungkook’s heartless words. 
He really was as wicked as they said he was. 
1K notes · View notes
sunfyresrider · 11 months
Text
The King's Wife
Aegon II Targaryen X Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: After the miscarriage of the king’s first born child you must go through your grief alone. That is until he summons a dinner where all truths are revealed. Tags: child loss, semi toxic relationship, fluffy ending. Author’s Note: Hi anon! This is for your lovely self<3 I rewrote this like ten times I'm sorry
You loved your husband more dearly than anything in this world and he loved you all the same. It is rare that a person enjoys their betrothed let alone loves them. It was a perfect match, created by complete accident. The Hightowers needed allies, an army, and for their king to have heirs. You needed a husband, a home and a family to replace your own. Truly, it seemed impossible everything worked out so beautifully.
Until it didn’t. The old king died after your marriage, the one he did not attend. Within a week your entire world had been uprooted and torn apart. You had yet to produce an heir, but it had only been a handful of months. The Hightowers either waited too late or the king died too soon, you didn’t know which. One moment you were lying in bed peacefully with your husband, the next you were standing in the dragonpit adorned with a crown. 
The coronation was masterfully crafted to be an affair of the ages. To be remembered by all the small folk and Lords who attended, to prove Aegon was the one and only rightful heir to the throne. And you were his beloved queen. You never expected Aegon to wholly embrace his new duties, to faithfully serve the realm. In the several years you had been married he never once showed care for any of it. Obviously, there was a side of him you hadn’t yet seen.
For every hour in the past weeks since a crown was placed atop his head, he had been busy. He would scheme in the council room meticulously making plans to destroy the Blacks. He worked tirelessly to ensure the small folk’s love, to coerce lords to join his cause and dispose of those who did not. 
Needless to say, your husband had become a complete stranger. You saw him at night when he dragged himself into bed with a large sigh. You attempted to comfort him, to love him, but were. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just so exhausted I can’t bear to move.’ An excuse, you thought to yourself. You took to sleeping on the edge of the bed, facing the wall instead of the man you were supposed to be. You tried to remind yourself this was not intentional, he was a new king in the midst of the war, it wasn’t your fault he could not be bothered. 
Mayhaps you should have been more understanding, maybe you should have forced him to give you the same attention as he used to but there were now other more important things. As the days flew by you became increasingly ill with something you could not name. You rarely left the bed now, too fatigued to fathom moving. 
In fear that you may be contagious, you have started sleeping in separate chambers. If your mind wasn’t so dazed by whatever plagued you, you would be far angrier. The vomiting began on the third day and seemed to not stop. Every food or medicine placed in front of you made you gag. It was impossible to keep anything inside when it all wanted to come out. 
The fourth day was when you realized something was horribly amiss, though you told no one. It started in the morning, the worst cramps you had felt in your entire life. You panicked at the sight of the blood but forced yourself to bite your lip. You couldn’t risk bothering everyone during such a time filled with turmoil. It lasted three hours, the pain, the blood, and the tears mixing into your sweat. A babe no larger than your foot was born, deceased. 
You couldn’t put into words the feelings that were boiling inside you. The signs of pregnancy were barely there, this couldn’t be happening. It didn’t feel real, watching your single trusted handmaiden wrap the babe in cloth and take it away. It didn’t make sense; you hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary to cause this. 
There were no signs of pregnancy in the past months. No growing belly or swelling feet to accompany all of the other king list of ailments that came with being with child. This was cryptic and it needed to remain that way, no matter how much pain you were in. 
There were far too many things to take into account. You failed to birth a child, the one thing women are praised for in this realm, and you couldn’t do it. If the council discovered the truth, they may have your marriage annulled and you discarded. What is a queen’s worth if she cannot produce heirs? What is a wife’s worth if she cannot produce a family for her husband? In this world you would be seen as no better than a whore. 
Thus, you distanced yourself from him entirely. You would mourn alone, sleep alone and heal alone. If you told him only worse could come from it and you simply couldn’t handle it. The hours turned into days, days into weeks and weeks into one month since you laid with your husband… It was past time you ventured outside of your chambers. 
____________________________________
When you had first met, Aegon believed your love was one that could withstand any dissension. However, it was becoming increasingly clear he was wrong. Very few people in this world loved the king, a surprising fact considering he was THE king. You were the first to show him true love and probably the last… Slowly but surely his insecurities were becoming all consuming. The feeling of his heart being gutted out increasing by the hour. 
What had he done to scorn you so? Ever since you wed, he had changed his behavior, became a better son, a more dutiful king and adoring husband. Mayhaps he should have reached out to you more but how could he when you were so determined to be alone? Aegon had his downfalls but surely it wasn’t so bad you stopped loving him. Was it?  
He forced you to attend supper, alone… You sat at the far-left end of the table, as far from your husband as you could. The table was set with luxurious food from across the realm, none of which interested you, all of which made you nauseous. It was eerily silent; the only sound being made was Aegon’s silverware hitting the plate. 
He was detached from this dinner, his mind was elsewhere, somewhere, anywhere but here. His eyes remained fixated on his food attempting to ignore the tension between him and you. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed the growing distance, the refusal to share a bed with him, the constant look of apathy plastered on your face at all times. You were growing to hate him, and it became increasingly clear every day… 
It was a miserable affair. Occasionally he glanced up from his plate and your eyes would meet. He gave a small smile and nod, which would be met with a faux smile on your part. Your plate remained empty; you remained almost completely still as if completely disassociated from the world around you. It was harrowing, watching his wife lose all interest in him. It didn’t matter what he did, you remained in constant dismay. 
“Is something bothering you?” He sighed, dropping his fork on his plate and gazing into you. “Nothing is bothering me, your grace. Is something bothering you?” He raised his eyebrows, sinking back into his chair. You’ve never referred to him as your grace let alone any formal titles. “You’re deflecting.”
“If I was deflecting, I would have changed the conversation.” You spoke in an irritated tone, avoiding all eye contact. Perhaps you truly did not love him anymore, he thought to himself. 
Aegon's eyes hardened, his lips thinned. He stared at you for a few moments, before he slammed his hand down on the table, making dishes clatter together.
"Yes, something is troubling me!" He shouted. This was the first time he ever raised his voice to you in your entire marriage. "For the past few weeks, you've barely spoken a word to me. I have tried to start countless conversations with you, but they all go nowhere. You refuse to share a bed with me, you refuse to accompany me to meetings…” 
You stood up from your seat, tears beginning to form at the corner of your eyes. “I? For weeks I tried to lay with you, to comfort you, but you refused my affection at all times and swat me away like a fly,” you shouted. Aegon's nostrils flared, and he clenched his fists on the table. ”Oh? And what sort of 'affection' do you expect me to give you when you're laying here like a corpse! Sulking about the entire keep like a ghost!" His throat caught, and he took a few seconds to breathe to hold it in, but his eyes were red, rimmed with tears. 
“You don’t care at all do you?” You yelled, fingers shakily gripping the edge of the table to keep your balance. "No, I don't care!” A deafening silence fell across the room. You stopped crying, regained your composure. “I believe it is time for me to go to bed. Goodnight, your grace.” You walked out of the room calmly, ignoring the hurricane of emotions in your heart. 
Shit
“Wait!” Aegon made chase, but you picked up your speed. “Leave me alone!” You lifted your dress so you would not trip as you made a dash to your chambers. “No!” The sounds of your voices carried through the keep as he chased you down. The guards and select nobles watched the chase in shock, disapproval and embarrassment for you both. 
Your feet scurried across the floor, tears freely flowing from your face. You ripped the door to your chambers open, flinging yourself inside to try to escape him. As you tried to will the door shut his body slammed against it, throwing you back. Aegon forced himself inside, slamming and locking it behind him. You stared at him, too heartbroken and angry to speak. He panted, “no more. No more running. We’re going to have this out.” 
You turned to walk away, further into your chambers. Aegon grabbed you by the wrist, surprisingly gently. "Please, stop hiding," he spoke between breaths. "Every day I have not had a moment's peace since you’ve gone away. Every night I have not slept because you are not there. I- I’m sorry I raised my voice, I’m sorry I did not pay you enough attention. I’m sorry for whatever sin I have committed to drive you away.” 
You turned to face him, tears streaming down his face, cherub cheeks painted a soft hue of red. “I can’t go on like this. I can’t live not knowing if you still love me.” His words broke you, reopened the wound your lost child left. You loved him, you loved him more than anyone in this realm. "I had a miscarriage," you whispered. "I didn't know how to tell you.” 
“W-what?” Aegon was confused, ceasing all of his movements the second you uttered the words. You began to sniffle, guilt eating away at your heart. “I- I didn’t know I was with child. It happened so suddenly and I- I” You couldn’t finish your sentence between the sobs. He pulled you close, burying your face in his chest, “i-i’m sorry. I’m sorry” you wailed like a newborn babe. 
“Shhh, don’t say sorry.” He pushed down his feelings of regret to comfort you. “I should have been there. You should have never gone through that alone.” Aegon held you tightly as you cried, tears streaming down his own face. He murmured soothing words in your ear and stroked your hair until your sobs subsided. Finally, you lifted your head and looked into his eyes. They were filled with love, concern, and a hint of fear. "I still love you," you said softly. "More than anything."
Relief flooded his face, and he pulled you into a deep kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of the past, present, and future. It was a kiss full of forgiveness, love, and hope. When the kiss ended, Aegon brushed a strand of hair from your face and smiled. "We can make another babe if you’d like." His poorly timed inappropriate jests normally fell flat but to his surprise and enjoyment, you laughed. it was a happy, pure laugh, the kind that he hadn't heard in a long time.
498 notes · View notes
fairysluna · 1 year
Text
what should've been.
Aegon has always been in love with his loyal childhood companion, so when King Viserys proposed a betrothal between them, he's absolutely blissful with the idea, although his happiness wouldn't last long.
Tumblr media
MASTERLIST | Epilogue
PAIRING — Aegon II Targaryen x Arryn!Reader.
TAGS/TW — friends to lovers, fluff, angst, death by illness, grief, cursing, teenage!aegon at the beginning, mentions of infertility, 'i hate everyone but you' trope.
AUTHOR'S NOTE — (2nd repost) small context, Aegon was named heir and reader is daughter of Lord Arryn who in this story is Maester of Law in the Small Council. this was a request, and ngl i loved this even tho it broke my heart... pls enjoy!!🤍
WORD COUNT — 7.6k
FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!
Tumblr media
Aegon's head was on her lap. 
The girl was leaning back on the Weirwood tree while Aegon was listening to her reading. The book on her hand was about the Andals, and she looked genuinely interested in the lecture while Aegon couldn’t help but to follow the movement her lips did with every word she pronounced. It was hypnotizing, as if they were begging to be kissed by him.
While one of her hands was holding the old book, the other one was on his hair, stroking the strands of it with such delicacy and care that Aegon would have fallen asleep right there, but he forced his eyes to be open only to stare at her, and the flower that he had left in her hair a few minutes ago.
"... The Vale of Arryn is where is located the purest Andals' blood as it was the first place they reach in their arrival to Westeros, and where their invasion started-" 
"So you are a pureblood then?" Aegon asked, teasingly interrupting her lecture. "I'm a pureblood too."
"Pureblood?" She repeated, closing the book and leaving it on the side. "What are you, a wolf?"
"I'm a dragon, love." He sat up and leaned forward, getting closer to her face. “The blood of Old Valyria runs in my veins, and the blood of the Andals runs in yours, perhaps we should mix them and make beautiful pureblood children." He teased her, moving his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner.
Lady Arryn laughed loudly at his antics, pushing him away by putting her hand against his chest. Aegon just smiled at her reaction, being mesmerized by the sound of her laughter. Her cheeks soon started blushing thanks to his shameless comment and he enjoyed the view, loving how she would get flustered whenever he said those kinds of things. 
“I thought you did not wish for children.” She remembered him. 
“Oh, I definitely don’t.” He shook his head, “But perhaps the process of making them would allow us to have some fun.”
The girl slapped the Prince’s arm, and he dropped his mouth, offended by the gesture. 
“Aegon!” She scolded him.
“You just slapped the arm of the heir!” He jokingly said, “I can cut your hands for it.”
"Why would you say such a foolish thing?" She spoke between chuckles. 
"It's not a 'foolish thing', it's a proposal." He clarified, "You will be my wife someday, I’m telling you."
"You're too confident." She claimed, "Due to your queer family customs, you will probably get married to Helaena."
His smile vanished almost immediately. His horror face was such a sight; his eyes widened and his eyebrows frowned exaggeratedly while his upper lip curled up. It was a hilarious scene that had the Lady chuckling quietly.
"Don't speak too loud, the Gods might hear you." He warned. "You are giving them ideas to punish me."
"You should stop giving them reasons to punish you." 
"I don't do that!" He said offended. The girl stared at him with a serious semblance. Aegon smirked, "What? Does loving you so deeply be considered a sin?" 
He leaned forward once again, this time he managed to kiss her cheek. The girl looked down, trying to hide her embarrassed face. No matter how many times Aegon would make those comments towards her, no matter how many times he would kiss her not-so-far from her lips; she just could not stop reacting that way. It is as if her body was trying to publicly show her feelings towards the Prince.
“You are a fool, Aegon.” She whispered, feeling his closeness. “Now, step back before someone sees us.”
“Why?” He looked around, and then looked back at her. “There’s no one here and I’m comfortable.”
“My honor would be doubted if they see you this close to me.” She explained with a subtle smile, “Step back, now.”
“But I love admiring your beauty from this angle.” He muttered, getting closer and closer. 
“Aegon…” She pledged, feeling her heart beating faster.
“If you wouldn’t want it, you would stop me.” 
She could feel his breathing crashing against her lips, she could sense the waves of the sound of his sweet voice; she was weak, she was panting as soon as she realized that just one push would be enough to feel his lips against hers for the first time; just a tiny push, but she didn’t have the guts to do it, she was too scared.
His hand fell on her soft cheek, Aegon felt the warmth of it and smirked. Her eyes were glistening and he knew for sure that his were too. He was so close to her that he was able to smell the scent of her hair, so sweet and delicious. 
“I want to kiss you.” He said, brushing his lips against hers. 
“Do it-”
“Prince Aegon.” Said a male voice behind them, interrupting the moment abruptly. Suddenly all the magic was gone.
The Lady pushed him away once more, this time it took him by surprise making him roll over until he laid on his back against the grass. He cleared his throat and composed himself quickly before looking at Ser Criston, who was curiously staring at the both of them. The poor girl was so flustered that she could not even look the guard in the face; she looked at the book in her hands instead.
“Lady Arryn.” He greeted, “The Queen wants to see you both.”
“Both?” She repeated, scandalized. “Why?”
“I’m afraid I’m only a messenger, my Lady.” Ser Criston replied, while offering his hand to her so she could stand up without problem.
“I was going to do that!” Aegon complained, but Ser Criston ignored him. 
The both teens walked behind the guard with the white cloak in silence. Aegon would purposely brush his hand against hers only to make her smile; she would look at him with accomplice eyes in return for his silly action. 
Once they arrived at the Council Room, Queen Alicent, King Viserys and Lord Arryn were waiting for them. Ser Criston bowed swiftly before going to a corner of the room. The three adults were showing serious semblances that put the teens into distress, unsure of what they would say. 
“My King.” Lady Arryn said, bowing. “My Queen.” She repeated the action, and then she went to her father to whom she greeted with a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Why are we here?” Aegon asked.
“We have some important news we would like to share with you both.” King Viserys explained. “Please, be seated.”
They listened obediently, sitting right next to each other. Lady Arryn’s leg was jumping out of nervousness, thinking that someone might have seen all those times when Aegon tried to kiss her and she didn’t push him back, or that some maid could have started a rumor that put her honor in disgrace. She was tormenting herself with her ideas, getting more anxious by the second. Aegon noticed it, and he placed his hand over hers in order to calm her down a little. It worked.
“We all know how close you have been during your entire childhood and even now.” The King explained, “We also know that House Arryn has been loyal to our House since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, which is something I am truly grateful for.”
“We had a conversation during a Small Council meeting about your future as King.” Alicent spoke to his son, “And we have decided that it is time for you to marry with a good and decent Lady that could provide you with an heir.”
“And we have chosen you, Lady Arryn.” Viserys announced. The girl looked over the table to find her father smiling pleasantly, “Your father has just given us his blessing in this union and we are already getting the preparations for the wedding.”
“You’ll be married in a fortnight.” Said the Queen with a kind smile. “I hope this union makes you both equally happy.”
The girl could’t react at first, it felt like a dream. She has been in love with Aegon since she learned what it truly means to love someone; that thin, platinum haired boy has stolen her heart since they first met, and now she was getting married to him. To her Aegon. 
Aegon was also so thrilled about the news that an incredulous smile formed on his face as soon as he heard the news. He looked at his mother and mouthed a subtle ‘thank you’ which made her smile. He was not used to getting what he wanted. He never did, actually. But this, the fact that he would get to spend the rest of his life with the girl he was deeply in love with, was more than enough for him. 
He started to thank the Gods too for listening to his pledges, for giving him a chance to be happy. His heart was beating fast, and he didn’t know if it was because of the excitement or because he felt the eyes of his beloved on his face. He turned around and saw her softened haze and her sweet smile, it was impossible to ignore it.
“I told you.” Aegon said, “You will be my wife.”
Their wedding was beautiful. Lady Arryn wore a beautiful white gown with golden embroidery with the shape of pansies; her favorite flowers. Aegon's eyes were lost with her beauty that day, he could not believe his luck. Seeing her walking down the aisle with her father on her right arm and enormous bright smile on her face was enough for him to realize that he had everything he had ever dreamt of.
They were still too young to understand what marriage and forever truly mean, but they were excited to learn about those things together. 
Aegon could not be separated from his wife during the whole night; he could not stop kissing her in front of everyone, for she was finally his. His sneaky hands were touching her body everytime they would go and dance in the middle of the whole; Alicent would send warning stares at her oldest son,but he would just ignore them, he was way too happy to even care about what she might say about his attitude. Besides, she was already his wife. 
He forbade the bedding ceremony, claiming that the only man who deserves to see Lady Arryn naked is him. When the night arrived, she was too shy and nervous while Aegon was almost jumping with excitement. It was her first time, but not Aegon’s, and yet he felt as if he had never felt pleasure before, for there was no sensation in the world that could’ve been compared with what he felt once he saw her naked for the first time. 
He was soft and caring, touching her with such delicacy that even he surprised himself with it. She was so soft, so beautiful and mesmerizing. Aegon saw himself as the luckiest man in the entire world because he would get to spend the rest of his life contemplating the beautiful woman he has as his wife. 
Four years passed after their wedding night, and both were living through  their twentieth name-day. Their love was still present, as strong as it ever was. Aegon was still smiling as a teenage boy everytime she would enter the room, and she would still blush when he whispered unholy comments in her ear. They were living in a paradise made only for them.
However, they hadn’t been able to conceive an heir yet. 
At first, both of them were not enchanted with the idea of having a child, there was no rush either. King Viserys was still healthy, there was no war, no threats that might put their lives in danger, so they just decided to wait. Lady Arryn would drink her moontea in the mornings after spending the night together and wait until her time of the month would arrive. 
Then, she started to show herself a bit more open about it, after she met her nephews and nieces on a trip to the Eyrie. Aegon and her were married for two and a half years when she started to have desires for motherhood, but she knew that even though she felt ready, Aegon did not feel the same. The pressure of inheriting the crown was too much already, too many responsibilities that would not let him live as freely as he wants; having a child would add another duty in his long list.
“Don’t hate me for it.” Aegon begged after explaining himself to her. “All I’m asking for is a few more years. We’ve been doing fine on our own, we can keep doing it for a couple years more.”
Lady Arryn looked at him with her haze softened, caressing his cheeks with her thumb in sweet movements that would relax his body. His eyes were looking down at her with worry, scared that she might get angry at him for not giving her what she wanted; but she only nodded, accepting his deal with a subtle smile. 
“How could I ever hate you, my love?” She spoke softly. “I will wait, there’s no reason to hurry.” She shrugged, downplaying the matter. “Besides, we are both still young.”
“Are you sure you’re not mad at me?” He asked, insecureness was heard in his voice.
She cupped his chubby cheeks and brought him closer to her so she could kiss his lips in a tender way. Her lips were moving softly and slowly against his, while his hands positioned themselves on the curve of her hips.
“There is no reason to be mad, my love.” She clarified after she leaned back. “This family will also be yours. We both must be ready to start it, not just me.”
And that is what they did.
They were avoiding the constant questions of the Lords and Ladies that would grow curious by the absence of a child after three years of marriage. Aegon would not listen to those comments, but he would realize her reactions towards them; she would put on the fakest smile he had ever seen, and just shrug with a saddened look on her eyes. Even though Aegon did not worry about it, he eventually did. 
In one of their trips to the Eyrie, Aegon saw his lady wife playing with her nephews while her nieces braided her hair. Her smile was so genuine and big that made him whole. He noticed how happy she was whenever she was around those children, and then he realized that his wife has always been so attentive, kind and loving towards him, she never pushed him to do something he did not want to do, not even when she wanted it so bad. 
That is when he decided that it was time. He wanted to make her happy, to make himself worthy of her love, so he told her that he was ready. He wanted to give her a child.
However, the Gods did not seem to be so pleased with the idea, because after months of trying —and they definitely were trying—, she would not get pregnant. 
Lady Arryn was starting to lose hope, feeling guilty about the situation. She married the King’s heir in order to give him an heir, and she was miserably failing in her duty as wife. Aegon consoled her one night when he found her crying beside the bed. Her eyes were closed, she was kneeling and her hands were intertwined; she was praying to the Mother. 
“My love…” Aegon spoke up once he got into the room.
The girl looked up, her teary eyes were enough to break his heart. Her cheeks were glistening with the tears that had previously fallen down her face. Once she saw her beloved husband, she started crying loudly; he immediately kneeled beside her and hugged her tightly, comforting her in her pain.
“I’m so sorry, Aegon.” She whined in his ear. “I’ve tried, I swear it. I’ve been praying to the Mother but she refuses to listen.”
“Sh, sh.” He said while brushing her hair with his fingers. Hearing her voice so broken made him tear up too. He couldn’t handle seeing her in that way. “No need to apologize, my love. This is not your fault.”
“My womb is useless.” She said. “I haven’t been able to give you an heir. It is my duty and I couldn’t fulfill it.”
“Nonsense.” He whispered softly, cleaning the tears on her face and looking at her with a loving haze. “The Maester says we just need to keep trying.”
“He’s been saying it for months, Aegon.” Lady Arryn whined. “Nothing happens yet.”
“We just need to be patient.” Aegon tried to cheer her up. “Besides, it’s not like we are not enjoying the process, is it?”
She tried to smile, but she just couldn’t. The sorrow on her heart was too big, the thought of letting Aegon down was tortuous, heart breaking even. He had been such a loving and good husband, he deserved to be a good father too.
“I’ve failed you.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry, my love.”
“Don’t you ever say that again, y/n.” He warned. “You have never failed me. Never. Not even when I was a foolish boy.” He cupped her face and left a soft kiss on her lips. “You’ve made me the luckiest man alive, and I love you.” 
“I love you too.” She managed to say between sobs and sighs. 
“You were praying now, right?” She nodded. “This is what we are going to do; we, together, are going to pray to the Mother, we are going to pledge a little of her compassion, and we are going to try again.” He held her hands, left soft kisses in them before positioning in a prayer position. “Go on, love.”
Her shaky voice was heard around the room while she started to sing the Mother’s hymn. Aegon closed his eyes and started to pledge. He was not a full believer, he would just pretend to be praying when his mother blesses the table before eating; but now he meant it. He put his whole heart out, offering the Gods thousands of things in exchange for a child for his beloved wife. 
Six full moons later, there was still no positive outcome, and even though the Maester had given her hundreds of teas and infusions to make her more fertile, the results were the same. So Aegon decided to send her to the Vale in order to spend time with the small children of her brothers, thinking that the trip would cheer her up a bit, after so many months of not having good news. Aegon had to stay on King’s Landing in order to attend the Council Meetings, his father was starting to get older. 
Lady Arryn was away for at least a month when she decided to come back in the arms of his beloved, who would escape in Sunfyre’s back to see her at least once a week. He just couldn’t stay away from her for so long. 
When she arrived back in the Capital, Aegon ran into the main entrance with a big smile that soon faded away once he set his eyes on her. He had flown to see her a week ago, and she looked completely different from who he was looking at now. She could barely get out of the carriage by herself, and she fainted when she put her feet on the ground.
Aegon yelled in despair, asking for a Maester while he carried his wife all the way towards the room they shared. He was scared. Her face was paler, there were purple circles around her eyes and her skin was burning. He didn’t know what was going on with her, a few days ago she was just fine.
The Maester was quick enough to wake her up, but the fever was already putting signs of illness on her tired face. Aegon asked the old man a million times about the health of his wife, concerned, desperate and scared. Of course he didn’t have the answers to it yet.
“Is it a babe?” Aegon asked hurryingly. “Is she- is she finally pregnant?”
“My Prince, these are not symptoms of a healthy pregnancy.” The Maester informed, “I’m afraid I should send some letters to the Citadel in order to find out.”
“Well, then fucking do that!” He screamed in his face. “Why are you still waiting?!”
“Aegon…” A soft voice was heard, the man turned around to see his wife waking up and trying to stand up. “Aegon, my love.”
“It’s okay, I’m here.” He rushed to her side and soon grabbed her shaky hand. “What happened? Tell me, what do you feel?”
A maid walked towards her with a wet cloth and a bowl filled with cold water. Aegon grabbed those things and started to clean her face, trying to make the fever go away. 
“We stopped to eat in a canteen on the way here.” She informed him, “The food was delicious.”
“Was it?” Aegon asked with a small smile on his lips, she nodded. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 
“A bit tired.” She said, “And thirsty.”
Aegon hurried to the nightstand and grabbed a cup to fill it with fresh and cold water. He helped her drink it, lifting her chin with two of his fingers and pouring the water inside her mouth. 
“I guess we won’t be able to try for a baby tonight.” She lamented, jokingly. That made him chuckle. 
“We can do that tomorrow night, there’s no hurry.” He leaned to kiss her forehead, feeling how sweaty and hot was her skin. “You must rest now.”
“Will you stay by my side?” She asked, closing her eyes once again. 
“I will always, my love.” 
He did as promised and never left her side. He was there, on a chair by her bed the entire day and the night that followed it. The maids would try to convince him to go and eat something, they promised him that she was in good hands, but he refused. He would not leave her, not like this. 
Her father went to see her, Lord Arryn stroked her hair for a while before saying goodbye as he must travel to Essos in the name of the crown. He thought it wasn’t something serious, he thought that she would be fine within days, but Aegon knew that wasn’t the case. He knew from the beginning that something was wrong.
Alicent went to see her daughter in law, and she brought food for her son. He received it, thanked her for it, but he did not eat it. He was not hungry, he was not tired; he was worried. He had never seen anyone in that state, and something inside of him was telling him it was not normal.
The next day she woke up first. Her head was aching and her body was covered in chills making her shiver with the cold wind. Aegon’s hand was wrapped around hers, and she squeezed it three times to wake him up too. The silver haired man opened his eyes tiredly and soon a groan came out of his throat for the backache that was produced by the uncomfortable and hard chair. He stopped complaining as soon as he saw his wife’s eyes staring at him.
He yawned before giving her a sweet smile, kissing her hand and then her forehead. Her skin was still burning.  
“Good morrow, my sun.” He greeted her, “Did you sleep well?”
“I did.” Her voice sounded weak, but Aegon tried to ignore that. “Did you?”
“I didn’t.” He answered annoyed, “This is a fucking castle, how can it not have comfortable chairs around?”
She laugh weakly.
“You still have a fever, don’t you?” Aegon asked. 
“I do, and I’m cold.” She complained. 
“I know, my love.” He replied, “But the Maester says it’s not good to put so many blankets on you, your fever can go worse.”
“And what about my husband’s arms?” She asked teasingly. Aegon just smiled, “Did the Maester forbid that too?”
Aegon took his shirt out of his body and made his way on top of the thin white bed sheet that was covering the shivering body of his beloved. She quickly cuddled under his arms, and hid her face on his chest, feeling the familiar warmth. Aegon did not care about how sweaty her body was, he just cared about making her feel comfortable and safe. She fell asleep once again; the fever was consuming her body.
The Maester walked in a few minutes before and almost choked when he saw the scene. A scandalized grin took over his wrinkled face and looked at them with horror. 
“Oh, no, my Prince!” He said, pulling Aegon’s arm and forcing him to get out of the bed. 
“What the fuck you think you’re doing?” He raised his voice, Lady Arryn woke up.
“My Prince, you should not be this close to you wife, she-”
“She’s my fucking wife, what did you expect?” He angrily protested. 
“My Prince, whatever illness the Princess has, we are not sure whether it is contagious or not. We cannot put your health at risk.”
Aegon was about to yell again, his face was red with anger because the Maester had woken up his wife. His hands were turned into fists, ready to punch him in the face, but the sweet voice of his beloved spoke first.
“I’m sorry, Maester Orwyle.” She said lightly, “It was my suggestion, not the Prince’s.” 
The Maester walked towards her and she tried to sit up but her arms were too frail to hold her weight, so she fell back onto the mattress. Aegon frowned, but she gave him a smile of reassurance. 
“You still have a fever, Princess.” The Maester pointed out. “How is your body behaving? Have you got any chill sensation? Cold, shivers, or a headache perhaps?”
“All of them.” She answered with one breath. 
The man took a weird looking tool and put it against her chest. He put his ear on it and asked everyone to be quiet. His eyes soon narrowed with worry, but he tried to downplay the situation by hiding his face from the Prince’s intense haze. His attempt failed.
“What?” Aegon asked harshly, “What happened, why would you make that face?” 
“My Prince-”
“What is going on?” He insisted, “Fucking answer me!”
“The heartbeats sound a bit weak.” He explained, “Too slow and too soft for someone for her age.”
“Well, then fucking do something about it!” 
“I’m going to prepare an infusion of herbs for the Princess, that might do well.” He said before leaving the room. 
The two of them stayed alone in the room once again, Lady Arryn looked at her husband and stretched her arm so he could grab her hand. He did, and he kissed it, sitting on the uncomfortable chair beside the bed.
“Don’t be so mean to him, my love.” She said, “He is trying to help.”
“He’s the Grand Maester, if he cannot do his job then we must find another one that can.” She stared at him with a scolding gesture, Aegon sighed, rolling his eyes. “I want the best for you, if I have to travel all over the world to find something to make you feel better, then I will.”
“I’m going to be fine.” She assured him, “In a week I’ll be out of this bed and we can start trying for a child again.”
“Don’t stress your mind thinking about it.” He told her, shaking his head. “We’ve talked about this before; there’s no hurry.”
“But-”
“No ‘but’, my sun.” He interrupted her, “We need to focus on your health first.”
And she nodded, giving an end to the conversation. 
Aegon wished to say his wife was getting better, but it was not the case at all. Everyday it seemed as if someone was sucking the life out of her body. She lost a lot of weight, Aegon was able to see her ribs marked on her chest; she barely ate anything, she did not have an appetite to satisfy. Everyday she would speak less too, and her voice would get breathy as if she was getting exhausted by just saying some words. Aegon then stopped making her answer, she would just nod, refuse or smile at him. It was better that way.
She didn’t have the strength to sit up either, so Aegon had to give her water with the help of a dropper. She would complain every time she swallowed, which alarmed him even more. 
When Aegon thought he was going through the worst, a terrible thing happened. He was ranting about the Maester and how he hasn’t found a solution to her illness even though it has been days since she was in that state. He was furious, spitting words of rage and nuisance while his wife just looked at him with tired glossy eyes. 
And then she started to cough.
At first, he did not pay too much attention to it, thinking that it was just that; a simple cough. But then, the white bed sheets were stained with small drops of blood. Aegon jumped out of the chair and helped her sit up while desperately calling for Maester Orwyle. She did not stop coughing, it was like she was choking on her own blood. 
Aegon’s eyes widened in terror, and an exasperating sensation took over his body when he saw that no one was coming to help her. Where the fuck was everyone? He thought, while he was on the verge of tears. He almost ripped his throat apart while screaming and demanding the presence of the Maester, who minutes later walked inside the room and quickly approached the Princess who had just stopped coughing. 
She had her eyes closed, and it seemed as if she was in pain with every breath she took. 
The Maester gave her milk of the puppy just so she could stop complaining about the tortuous pain her weakened body was suffering, and once he was ready to leave Aegon grabbed his arm with a firm grip, his eyes were teary and filled with rage. 
“What is going on with her?” He demanded an answer, his voice shaking. “Answer me!”
“We don’t know what is going on with her, my Prince.” He stuttered, “We have never seen a case like this before. The Citadel-”
“I don’t give a fuck about the Citadel.” Aegon spat, “You need to tell me what is wrong with her, why is she not getting better? It’s been days!”
“I’ve tried every method I know.” He confessed, “It seemed as if her body is rejecting everything. I’m not sure if she will make it.”
“What the fuck are you saying?” 
“My Prince, your lady wife state is alarming…” He spoke with care, as if she was walking between dragons. “She could not survive-”
Aegon grabbed him by his collar, making him gasp out of the impression. His nostrils expanded and he was breathing fast and hard, he was fuming.
“If my wife dies, you will die too.” He threatened him, “You must save her, I don’t care what you have to do, but you will save her.” 
The old man left quickly, and again it was just him and his dying wife. Aegon felt tears running down his face. He hated seeing her like this, so weak and sick. He would see her eyes for glimpses of time, he would take the opportunity to see them whenever she would open them, and it was enough for him to notice how they were not as shiny as they usually were; they were drained, with so little life. 
Alicent arrived in her room a few hours later, she saw his son grabbing her hand and the dried tears in his eyes. She walked closer to him and caressed his back in a motherly touch that made him shiver.
“What did the Maester say?” She asked worried.
“He doesn’t know what is going on.” Aegon replied with a shaky voice, proof that he had been crying. “He is an incompetent. How the fuck is he even a Maester if he doesn’t know how to heal people?”
“He’s trying his best.” Alicent consoled him, “He had sent multiple letters to the Citadel already, the answers might take too long to arrive.”
“But I need it now.” He muttered. “She is sick now, look at her!” He scalped, making Alicent flinch. “She is burning! The fever is killing her!”
“It is not, my child.” She said, in a failed attempt to calm him down. “Y/n will be fine… you just have to pray for her health and wellbeing. You won’t even notice and she’ll be healthy again.”
Then, Aegon broke. He stood up from his chair beside the bed and went to hug his mother, hiding his head on the crook of her neck and leaving traces of tears all over her green dress. Alicent hugged him back, stroking his hair and whispering words of consolation. 
“I’m scared.” He confessed, whispering. “I can’t lose her, mother. I cannot live without her.”
“You will not lose her.” She said, “She will be fine.”
“She’s not getting better.” He pulled away and looked at his mother. “The Maester even told me, she is too weak already.”
“I’ve seen people living through worse and surviving.”
“You didn’t see what I saw.” He shook his head, “She was coughing blood, mother. Blood!” His lower lip trembled, making his voice sound unsteady. “She’s dying.”
Alicent held his hands, “We should pray together, wouldn’t you like that? Y/n is devoted to the Seven, perhaps this is what she would want.” 
Aegon nodded and his mother gave a sweet kiss on his forehead before going at the end of the bed and grabbing their hands. He gave a glance to his wife, she was sleeping soundly, covered with the bedsheets and her hair was spreaded on her pillow. Aegon whined once he saw her poor state, and soon he forced himself to close his eyes and pray with his mother. 
He begged them. He asked them to return her health in exchange for everything he had. He offered his title; he never wanted it in the first place, he offered his dragon; he could live without him but not without his wife, he even offered his own life because he knew hers was more worthy than his. She did not deserve to die so young, she was always so full of life, always smiling and laughing, so kind and thoughtful. If someone deserved to die it was him, not her; so he begged the gods to take him instead. 
When the next morning came, he woke up in the same chair as always, covered in the same blanket and holding the same hand, but something was different. He could feel it. 
He squeezed her hand three times as usual to wake her up, but she did not squeeze it back. Aegon frowned and tried again; the outcome was the same. He tried not to panic or have an early reaction, so she stood up and quickly sat on the bed, right beside her.
“My love?” He said softly, “My love, is time to wake up.” Aegon softly shook her body, yet there was no answer. “Please, my love, let me see those beautiful eyes. Wake up.”
Nothing. Not even a sigh. 
Aegon grew desperate by the second and the tears soon started to gather in his eyes, knowing the meaning of this. He never gave up, he was still calling her and moving her body begging for her to react. 
“Y/n, please, wake up.” He pledged once again, sobbing, “I need you to wake up, I need you, please! Please!”
His hand went to her hair to caress it, and he felt the coldness of her forehead. All these past days, her skin was burning, but now it was as cold as ice. Aegon widened his eyes and his hands cupped her face.
“No, no, no.” He muttered, sniffing and whimpering. “Please, don’t. Don’t leave, my love. Please wake up.” His tears fell on her pale face, and he sob loudly. “Y/n, my love, please!” He started to yell, “Don’t do this to me! Wake up!”
His shouting started to concern the guard outside the room, he entered and saw Aegon crying on top of his dead wife’s body, holding her head and stroking her hair while he was uncontrollably sobbing. The guard saw what was happening and he was quick to call the Queen and the Maester, who appeared in the room within minutes. 
Alicent gasped once he saw the heartbreaking scene, and soon she started to cry too. Aegon was now holding her body while his face was buried on her chest. He never stopped crying and begging her to wake up. Soft ‘please’ were heard, he was whimpering pledged to her and the Gods, but neither seemed to listen.
“My Prince-”
“Don’t touch her!” He shouted at the Maester once he tried to put his hands on her. “Don’t you fucking dare!”
“Aegon,” Alicent walked towards him, rubbing his back and trying to not sound as if she was crying. “The Maester needs to do his job, please-”
“He killed her!” He accused him, “I will put your fucking useless head on a spike, you idiot cunt!”
“Aegon, that’s enough.” Alicent warned him, “You must let her go, please, my child.”
A group of Silent Sisters entered the room and Aegon’s whole body froze. The ladies started to walk towards the bed while Alicent was pulling him away from it. He started squirming under his mother’s arms, not wanting to be separated from his beloved.
Soon, two guards entered the room and grabbed his arms, forcing him to leave his wife.
“No! No!” He started to move harshly, trying to be set free. “Please, don’t take her! Please! Mother, please!”
“I’m so sorry, my child.” His mother answered.
Aegon saw how her face was covered with the white sheet, and how the Silent Sisters grabbed her body and took her out of the room, he was still fighting against the strong grips that were holding him back. 
“Let me go! Please!” He begged again.
Once the Silent Sister left and the bed was empty, the guards let him go. He felt onto his knees, seeing the shape of his wife still marked on the mattress they used to share and the tears came back. His mother stood by his side, and he hugged her hips gripping the gown of her dress and moaning out of pain. 
He lost her, the love of his life was gone and there was no one to blame. The Stranger looked back at him with a mocking face and took his wife, leaving him completely alone. 
Hours later he found himself staring at her body being wrapped in bandages in order to realize the funeral. He had one bottle filled with wine in his hand, and a piece of bread in the other. He was stumbling because he was already drunk. The Silent Sisters were working, and Aegon was lost in his own grief, looking at the corpse of his wife. 
He did not care if she was not a Targaryen, her funeral will be under the Old Valyrian traditions. 
“Aegon, you should not be here.” 
Aegon did not answer, he did not even bother to look at his mother who just arrived on his side. 
“It’s bad luck to see the face of the dead, we cannot be here.” She warned.
He scoffed, taking a large sip from his bottle and then taking a bite from the piece of bread in his hand. He shrugged as if he did not care. And in some way, he didn’t.
“I don’t give a shit.” He muttered, “They have already taken everything from me. They may as well take me if they are merciful enough.”
“Don’t say those things.” Alicent said. She turned around to not look at the corpse anymore, facing his child whose eyes seemed to be stuck on her wife’s body. “Y/n would not like you to die.”
“And what do you know?” He asked mockingly, “You knew nothing about her. None of you did!”
“Aegon, please be quiet. The Gods-”
“Fuck the Gods.”
“Aegon!” She scolded him.
“No, no. Fuck them.” He spat furiously, his eyes were a mixture of sadness and anger. “I begged them, mother. Me and y/n begged them for their mercy.” He started crying again, “When we wanted a child, we begged every fucking night to the Mother, to have a little of compassion towards us and give us the child that we deserved- that she deserved!” He sniffed, looking now at his mother. “Then I begged all of them for her life. And none of them heard me, none of them did!”
“My child…” She tried to hug him, but he took a step back. 
“They made me believe that I was safe.” He muttered, “They made me meet her, love her and marry her. They gave me this  happiness just so they can steal it away!” 
He laughed, a bitter laugh that made Alicent sink in her place. Aegon took the last sip from his cup and threw the bottle away, not caring about the uproarious sound it would make once it fell onto the ground. Then, he turned to his mother once again.
“I couldn’t-” He sighed, trying not to cry. “I couldn’t even give her a child.” He scoffed, “It was all she ever wanted and I couldn’t give it to her.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Aegon.” She tried to console him once again. 
“I have nothing left from her.” He said bitterly, “Not even a child that would help me to remember her face. Nothing at all.”
He threw the piece of bread in his hand on the floor, and he left for the gardens; the place where they were always gathered during their youth. 
Aegon saw everything with nostalgic eyes filled with tears. His head was aching, his throat too. He had a watery nose thanks to the tears and his heart was feeling shattered. He looked around, finding the tree where they always used to read, the benches where Aegon used to sit down while Lady Arryn would braid his hair. Although the flowers were his breaking point. 
He walked close to the small mauve pansies that she always loved. He would always steal one and put her on her hair every time they came to the gardens. She would blush and laugh nervously for the gesture, but he always ended up receiving a small kiss on his cheek for it. That’s why he always did it.
He took one and looked at it with attention, remembering the same petals on her white wedding gown during the happiest day in his life. 
He couldn’t help but cry at the memory.
+
The day of the funeral Aegon did not speak with anyone. Lord Arryn and his other sons —y/n’s brothers— arrived within a week, and then everything was ready for the ceremony. 
Sunfyre was in the hills, waiting for the signal of his rider to set fire on the wrapped body. They were all expecting for Aegon to give a speech, to say something about the wife he claimed to love so deeply, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too broke, too lost in his grief.
He had a small mauve pansy in his hand, Aemond had told him that it represented the lost love which gave a whole different meaning to it. Aegon heard the speech of his father in law, who was devastated for not taking her illness seriously and leaving her without his company on her last days. Aegon could hear the guilt in his voice, and he would be grateful that at least he was with her during her last breath. 
When the time arrived, everyone went silent. Aegon had to pronounce the word, but instead he walked toward the body and stood beside them, letting himself cry in agony for his suffering. Minutes passed and he found himself staring at it for too long. 
He took the flower and left it where her ear was supposed to be. This time, however, he did not feel her soft lips against his cheek.
“I will always love you, my sun.” He whispered before walking back to where the rest of the people were. 
Aegon stood beside his mother, who rubbed his back in the instant he was close. He took a deep breath and saw the body one last time. He tried to imagine a life without her, without her smile and laughter, without her rosy cheeks and nervous muttering. He couldn’t. A life without her seemed almost impossible.
He imagined a future with her instead, and a thousand pictures would come to his mind. Her raising a child that would be as beautiful as her, her dancing with him on their children's name day, her having long conversations at night with him. He thought so easily about those things because that was what should’ve been; a long life by her side.
But now he was standing in front of everybody, crying and sighing with an agonizing pain on his chest. His voice refused to come out in the first two tries, but on the third, he cleared his throat and accepted his miserable future, without the woman he so deeply loved.
He took a deep breath, and finally said,
“Dracarys.”
758 notes · View notes
neuroticbookworm · 3 months
Text
Another Thai BL, another Asian parent-child conflict that enrages the audience and yet, is extremely nuanced. I’m gonna try and speak on it as an Asian kid who grew up in the East, but currently lives in the West, carrying complicated feelings on the Asian parenting I received.
I’m seeing a good discourse in the tags from @lurkingshan, @respectthepetty, @bengiyo, @heretherebedork and @williamrikers, among others, on the hypocrisy of a dad who hit his son in anger and is now lecturing him on the importance of controlling one’s actions when angry. I agree with everyone that the dad is being a hypocritical piece of shit. But I do not think that this is a failure in the writing of the show. Quite the opposite, actually. Because of how Ten responds and acts in the face of this hypocrisy.
Ten comes across as belligerent and confrontational in every interaction he has had with his dad, but it is never uncalled for, and he never seeks it out himself. He tries to stay out of his dad and his stepmom/his dad’s girlfriend’s way as much as possible, and only responds in a defensive manner when provoked. And in today’s episode, he even kept himself open enough in the conversation with his dad, despite his anger, to concede and accept a very good point when raised. Ten understands his dad’s hypocrisy but refuses to stoop to the same level of pettiness because he knows being a good partner and a good friend is more important than being right. This is a mark of excellent writing, in my opinion. The main character is fiercely loyal to his partner and his friends and does not let his baggage with his dad cloud his course of action.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I also see calls for an apology from the dad already brewing in the fandom. And I understand the instinct to want that. It is always so satisfying when mistreated children finally get the apology that’s been long overdue. But it’s rarely this simple in an Asian household. Times are changing faster than most people can in a lifetime, and there are systemic, cultural flaws in how an Asian society understands and teaches parenting. And if we factor in the social, economic, religious lines that heavily influence how an Asian person forms their social circle, it would’ve left these parents with little to no peers who can tell them what they’re doing is wrong. Parents striking their kids is clearly considered evil nowadays, but only a few years ago, it would’ve been a perfectly acceptable response to control a bratty child, on and off screen (and it still is in some Asian cultures).
Now, NONE of what I said above is an excuse to write off the behavior of Ten’s dad as acceptable, just because it’s very Asian. As an Asian who grew up in the East, the demand for an apology does not particularly resonate with me, because Ten and his dad both know that their problems are not gonna go away as soon as Ten’s dad apologizes. Because:
If Ten starts demanding an apology for every shitty thing his dad has ever done, where should he stop? Should he demand an apology for the time his dad probably struck him as a kid when he was trying to get him to memorize multiplication tables, as is wont of every Asian parent ever (it is such an ubiquitous experience to Asian kids everywhere that there are reels with millions of views on IG, referencing this experience. Does this mean every Asian parent is evil and must be put on trial by their kids? Holy moly, think of all the money therapists would make if every Asian kid in the world decided to call out their parents on their shit. Entire economies would crumble to dust from the sudden disruption in cashflow.)
Is an apology going to comfort Ten? Asian parenting warps the sense of self of both the parents and the kids, because of the levels of abject sacrifice involved in it. It is extremely possible that Ten’s dad had worked day and night to provide well for his family, for his son, before Ten’s mom fell ill. It’s the same choice he made for his wife, but in this case, it paid off, because now Ten is financially well taken care of, and he is privileged enough to pursue a career in medicine. If Ten demands an apology from his dad for not being there when his mom was dying, do we know for sure that when he gets that apology, his mind won’t conflate the sacrifices his dad made for him, thus making him feel guilty for forcing someone who clearly cared about him enough to work hard for him, into defeat (look at this rich soup of Asian parenting misery, yum yum yum. I know it’s delicious because I’m paying my therapist weekly to make the broth less spicy).
The dialogue in the show whenever Ten’s mom is brought up and discussed is always very carefully worded:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Not “because you did not act”, but “because you took so long to act”. Looks like Ten’s dad made a choice that ultimately did not pay off. He cared, and he wanted to do something to save his wife, but whatever he chose to do ultimately did not help. And now she is dead and he has managed to not help and comfort his wife in her final days AND unwittingly traumatize his son with his absence. The show has painted this storyline with enough nuance that I don’t believe we are meant to read Ten’s dad as a simple villain, but rather a father who does care but has made some serious mistakes. This situation is so emotionally complicated and realistically, it’s gonna take years for both of them to find a middle ground. Ten is gonna have to grow up and make a few mistakes of his own in life to develop proper empathy for his dad, and that’s gonna put a couple things into perspective for him (I’m not saying Ten is bound to make mistakes because he is bad. He is going to because shit happens in life and human beings always do better in hindsight than in the moment). And the dad is gonna have to grow old and let his aging body humble him a little and shrink his ego enough to see that he had failed his son by not being emotionally available to deal with their trauma, together.
I’ve been watching Kim’s Convenience, a Canadian sitcom that follows a Korean-Canadian family and their shenanigans. I’m only on S04E02, but there is a father-son conflict at the centre of this show that is still not directly addressed by both the dad and the son. It’s been years (almost a decade, I think) since the son has been driven out of his home by his dad for a dumb mistake he made as a teen. And the way the show works on it is so infuriating, because it is so Asian. It is rarely addressed aloud in the presence of the dad or the son, lest it leads to anger and screaming and storming off. The path to reconciliation is built with mom calling her son for help to fix something in their home because his dad is too stubborn to ask for it. With the son visiting the hospital when the dad had to undergo surgery, and having their first real conversation in years which the dad forgets after waking up from the influence of pain drugs. With the daughter’s old phone passed down to the dad with her brother’s number on it, which leads to them texting each other. It is all extra frustrating for me because I’m extremely straightforward in my conversations with my parents. I do not like ambiguous endings to verbal conflicts because they are a ticking time bomb and I do not have the capacity to forget its existence and let it tick away in the background. But, I understand it when my friends, and Asian characters in TV shows, don’t want to force things out in the open if it can be swept under the rug for the time being, because peace of mind in Asian households is fleeting and you would be wise to take what you get.
Good TV shows can best serve their audience when they serve their characters, and stay true to the experiences of the people they are trying to represent. My teen ass was regularly shocked, appalled and intrigued by the sexual liberation promised by Western media I consumed while I was in school and college. I was surrounded by a sexually repressed society that was convinced that the only moral way to enjoy pleasure was after marriage with your partner. And very predictably, this means a lot of dead bedrooms, unhappy marriages and kids growing up with no real understanding of what romantic love looks like. I would’ve never had the courage to move my entire life to the West, if the Western media I watched had not represented its people in all their messy, horny glory, albeit with a rose-tinted lens on gender, race and sexuality.
Some Asian parents in media need to fall at the feet of their children and apologize. I remember being absolutely fucking enraged while @lurkingshan and I watched Double Savage at the behest of our friend @waitmyturtles, and in the finale, Korn was the one who fell at the feet of his absolute piece of shit of a dad to apologize for FUCKING NOTHING. And after Shan and I were done surviving that show, I remember telling my friends that most Asian media does not have strong writing whenever Asian children need to defy their shitty parents and come to terms with their destructive parenting, because chances are, most Asian creators would not have successfully done it. Hence, intergenerational trauma (gasp! It’s all connected!).
So. I would never demand to see Ten’s dad apologize to him to consider Cooking Crush a successful show, because that is not the cultural context this story operates in. Would I enjoy it if he does? Hell yes. Would I be mad if he does not? No, because Ten is proving him wrong time and again, and that’s a constant reminder from the narrative of who is in the right.
75 notes · View notes
written-in-flowers · 1 year
Note
Aegon Targaryen spending time with his four kids and wife, Almost 5?? I loved the four becomes five fic.
Tumblr media
A/N: okay, this isn't exactly Aegon spending time with his kids, but that is at the end. I kind of like dad!Aegon despite how OOC it can be.
Tags: loads of parental fears, parental worries, mentions of pregnancy issues, mentions of premature illness, mentions of baby illness, miscarriages, stillbirths, but loads of aegon being fond of his babies and giving them dragon eggs. Yes, Aemond married Helaena, and I love every second of that.
***
Four Becomes Five pt. 2
Aegon knew children would be a part of marriage. They are a part of life. They keep the family going, the future bright and the lineage strong. Yet, the thought of having one of his own terrified him. He had no idea how to be a father; his own did nothing to teach or guide him in fatherhood. He saw how his siblings turned out, how he turned out. He worried he might ruin things, and the child became terrible. What if he ends up raising the next Maegor the Cruel? The child could become a deadpan lunatic like Aemond or a spineless worm like his father. Aegon worried his bad habits might influence his children, who then become unloved and scorned by his family. He thought of the possibility of them being deformed, and he’d be the reason they were. He might injure them by accident or teach them the ‘wrong’ things or be too distant or too suffocating or too neglectful or too attentive. Aegon had no idea how to raise a child. He had no desire to have one. Babies are so fragile, noisy and gross. He told you on your wedding night only one baby. You two would only have one. He wouldn’t run the risk of screwing up more than once. 
Until Daella. Nine months following your wedding night, you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She had his violet eyes and silver blond hair, but your skin tone and nose. Aegon stood outside the birthing room, anxious and needing a drink, when the maester came to tell him the labor ended. He guided Aegon into the room where he saw you sitting up against pillows, body drenched in sweat and hair clinging to your forehead and face. You wore a white garment that was still bloody around your legs, which were still slightly spread. In your arms, you carried a white bundle. Tears of joy slipped down your cheeks as you and Mother stared down at the baby in your arms. The child cried and cried while you tried shushing it. Aegon stayed on the outskirts of the scene, watching from the dark. This was it. He was a father now; no going back or running away. Well, actually, he COULD run, but he didn’t dare. He’d never leave you. He couldn’t even if he tried. You finally noticed him, smiled widely, and beckoned him closer. You knew about his fears of parenthood. 
“Would you like to hold your daughter, Aegon?” you asked him kindly. 
“What if I drop her?” was his first question. 
“You won’t.”
You instructed him on how to hold a newborn, and that’s when it happened. Seeing Daella’s violet eyes blink for a moment, her little body bundled up in a soft blanket, and simply holding her put out those fears. Yes, this felt right. He felt as if he were made for this. He’d screwed up most of the things in his life, and he feared he might mess this up, but dammit…he’d try his best. He rested back in a chair while you recovered, holding Daella and watching her sleep. 
He went to the dragonpit himself and picked out an egg from the incubating chamber. It was a white, sparkling egg with a blue gradient to the bottom. A beautiful egg for his beautiful princess. 
Aegon tried to quit drinking so much. He tried being there more. He tried helping with the baby as much as a man could, but…what if he’s doing too much? What if he should step back? He shouldn’t be all over Daella because she needed to experience things herself, and let her discover it on her own. You’d tell him ‘she’s only a baby, Aegon’, yet he insisted it stood. Daella made it easy by being the happiest baby around. She giggled easily, smiled often, and loved to play with toys and with others. Aegon liked this part the most. He wanted to be a part of it. He enjoyed playing ‘dragons and princesses’ with her; being a ‘guest’ at her tea parties and playing hide and seek in the apartments. 
Then, you and him had drunken sex on Daella’s second nameday. This very steamy, passionate moment resulted in a second pregnancy. That was fine. A second baby is okay. He’s gotten some experience with Daella, so a second would be fine. Right? Yes? It’s not as if he could screw up two different children. 
Saera came after, and what a beauty she was too. She looked like you in his eyes; you said she looked like him. It didn’t matter. Aegon chose a rose gold egg from the chamber that glittered magenta when turned the right way. An egg as enchanting as Saera. Even as a baby, people fawned over her. His grandsire commented that when Saera grew of age, he’d be knee-deep in marriage proposals. This never occurred to Aegon until that moment. He stared down at his daughter, fast asleep in his arms, and realized he’d have to give her to someone. One day, he’d have to marry her off…to a man…who might hurt or mistreat her. No, he’d obviously marry Saera to a brother or cousin or uncle. If she ended up never having a brother, she’d marry Aemond and Helaena’s son, Maelor. He’d have to make sure his brother raises his son right so he’s a good match for Saera. Yes, that makes sense, certainly. 
Daella being three, and Saera having just turned two, you announced you were pregnant for a third time. He’d wracked his brain to recall the time when you reminded him of the morning you both spent ‘taking the air’ in the palace gardens. He was positive he’d pulled out that time, but clearly, not quick enough. Aegon had Daella and Saera now, so a third child should be easy. His mother and father prayed for a Targaryen boy to keep the bloodline going. You said you didn’t care what their sex was; you’d love them regardless, and he felt the same. The third pregnancy came with complications. The maester told him there was a fair chance you might miscarry with all the delicacy of the situation; he felt helpless. This isn’t an enemy he can fight off or an illness that can be cured with a tonic. If the baby miscarried, he could do nothing about it. He could only pray…A thing he never did until the night you’d woken up to a puddle of blood in the bed. While the maester quieted you with milk of the poppy, Aegon went into the royal sept, where he lit a candle to every god. It surprised his mother, who’d come for the same reason that night. He told her he did not know what else to do, and she knelt there with him in silence.
Prayers were answered. On a cool, breezy morning, Baelon Targaryen came into the world. But, the maester told them not to exhale too deeply. Baelon came with many complications: thin, frail, and sickly. They feared he might not make it through the week. Aegon prayed again. He didn’t care if his son became crippled or disfigured from his illness, as long as he lived. The maesters did all they could for Baelon, but they feared he might not make it. Aegon and you both stayed beside his crib every night; you both prayed that The Mother showed mercy and took care of your boy. He feared the moment the baby stopped breathing or became too still. When Helaena told you she’d seen Baelon as a dragon in her dreams, hoping it meant something good, Aegon realized what he must do. He rushed to the dragonpit where one of the she-dragons recently produced a clutch of eggs. Emerald green with flecks of gold, when Aegon held it in his hands, he sensed the power within. He couldn’t explain it, but this dragon would be mighty and so would his son. He came back and placed the egg in Baelon’s cradle. A desperate attempt of a father who’d do anything for his son’s health. 
Finally, one hot night, when the city stunk and sweat stuck his clothes to his skin, young Baelon’s fever broke. His screaming woke up half the castle. Aegon thought there might be something wrong, something hurting the baby, but when the maester came, he suggested the boy nurse at his mother’s teat. You both sobbed together when you realized the worst had passed. Baelon became precocious and wily. He picked up walking faster than either of his sisters, and he liked cuddling with his dragon’s egg. He cried whenever someone tried removing it from him. Baelon was four by the time the egg hatched. ‘Endrys’, a dragon of dark green with golden lines under his scales, joined the other dragons in the dragonpit. The dragonkeepers declared that Endrys bonded with Baelon in the egg, a very, very, very rare thing. Aegon took this to mean his boy would be a strong dragonrider. 
Three children was enough for you both. You each had plenty on your hands. His mother said he might still drink and occasionally stray from his duties, but he’d become a decent father. Not a great one, yet better than his own. Aemond said fatherhood changed him. He didn’t think so. He still drank until he passed out, but only after the children went to bed. He still loved bedding you, though it became less frequent after Baelon’s risky birth. He thought you two might stop at three. Daella was already five, Saera was two and Baelon was one. It was enough. When you and him made love after a heated argument, he swore he’d pull out in time to keep it from going inside you. But, as Aemond said:
“Seems your technique is getting weak, Brother.”
Unfortunately, the child never made it to full term. He’d woken up one morning to find out you’d started your labors too early. You spent hours in complete agony, screaming and crying over the pains bursting in your body. Eventually, the maester withdrew the child. Deformed, pale white, with scales on its body, neither of you could understand the monster you’d birthed. Regardless, you’d named her Rhaella, and your dragon, Moonfyre, burned her body on a funeral pyre. Aegon shared your sadness. He comforted you as best as husband could, while also trying to explain to your children why they didn’t have a sister anymore. You became pregnant two more times in the passing years. One miscarried, and the other was another stillbirth. He guessed the gods were trying to tell him that he had plenty of children already. 
Then Vaelen came. He came slowly and quietly, like a snake sneaking up on prey. Aegon made this analogy because Vaelen rarely cried. He rarely smiled. Aegon joked that he appeared to be ‘in thought’ all the time. He'd placed a matte orange egg with reddish scales in the cradle, though Vaelen paid no mind to it. The quiet baby turned into a reserved, solemn boy who liked listening to stories, going on walks with his mother, and looking at plants. 
In the sitting room after dinner, Aegon sat in his chair by the fire and admired his family from afar. Daella worked quietly on her needlework, which her septa said needed vast improvement. She grumbled to herself, much like you do, and hissed angrily when she’d skewed a stitch. You told her to be patient, relax, and take her time. Saera sat at her feet, making two of her dolls kiss. She said they’d gone on a fantastical journey across the kingdom, fighting monsters and villains, before coming home to get married. He smiled at her imagination, her innocence. Vaelen sat at a table nearby, crushing leaves with a mortar and pestle with a few other ingredients in front of him. When asked, he said he was recreating Maester Orwyle’s soothing salve for burns. He only did this because Baelon returned from the dragonpit, slightly singed with a burn mark on his arm and chest. He’d accidentally come across a hatchling that escaped the warming chamber. When trying to take it back, the hatchling panicked and spewed hot air that burned through Baelon’s clothes. Baelon wasn’t angry with the baby, but the burns it left irritated him. Aegon could tell when his son put up a front, acting as if he wasn’t in so much pain. Still, he rested against you and quietly listened to you read to the room aloud. 
Your belly is the first thing he noticed. Four months into the pregnancy, you already began showing slightly. After that quick one following a reunion dinner with family, he’d somewhat hoped to have another child. Aegon took a swig from his ale mug, smiled softly, and pictured a fifth child sitting amongst the ones he had now. He prayed that the child would come out healthy. He quite enjoyed being a father now. 
He didn’t mind it so much anymore. 
806 notes · View notes
muiitoloko · 11 days
Text
New beginning
Tumblr media
Summary: It's a new beginning.
Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader
Warning: Illness.
Author's Notes: Is it wrong that I'm sad this story is ending? I think I got more attached to this story than I should have. 😅
First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth and Sixth part here.
Tumblr media
As the days turned into months and then years, William grew up quickly, his laughter filling the halls of your grand mansion. You marveled at how time seemed to fly by, cherishing every moment spent watching your son grow and thrive.
But as William grew, so did your family. Soon, you found yourself pregnant again, the news of twins filling you with both excitement and trepidation. Turpin, though initially taken aback by the prospect of expanding your family, soon embraced the idea with his usual stoic resolve.
Months passed, and eventually, the day arrived when you welcomed your twin babies into the world. Turpin stood by your side, his expression a mixture of awe and apprehension as he witnessed the miracle of birth once again. Despite his typically stern demeanor, his heart melted at the sight of his newborn children, and he vowed to protect and cherish them with all his being.
As the years went by, Turpin's health began to decline, his once formidable strength weakened by illness. Forced to retire from his prestigious position as a judge, Turpin struggled to come to terms with his newfound vulnerability. You, ever the devoted wife, remained by his side, offering comfort and support as he navigated this challenging chapter of his life.
With Turpin's health deteriorating, you made the difficult decision to leave London behind and move to the farm you had always dreamed of. Turpin, though initially resistant to the idea, eventually acquiesced, recognizing the benefits of the fresh air and tranquility for his recovery.
The transition to farm life was not without its challenges, but together, you and Turpin faced them head-on, drawing strength from each other and the love that bound your family together. Turpin, though laid up since his illness, found solace in the simple pleasures of country living, while you reveled in the opportunity to nurture your growing family in the serene countryside.
As the years passed, the farm became a sanctuary for your family, a place where Turpin could find peace amidst the turmoil of his declining health. Surrounded by the beauty of nature and the love of his family, Turpin rediscovered a sense of purpose and contentment that he had long thought lost.
Though Turpin's illness presented its share of challenges, it also brought you closer together as a family, strengthening the bonds that held you all together. As you watched your children grow and thrive in the idyllic countryside, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the life you had built together, far away from the hustle and bustle of city life.
As the afternoon sun cast its golden rays over the sprawling fields surrounding your farm, you and Turpin sat together on a sturdy wooden chair placed in the entrance of your cozy farmhouse. The gentle breeze carried the sound of laughter and playful shouts from your children, William, Sophia, and Belladonna, who were engrossed in a game of tag in the yard.
Turpin, his once formidable frame now softened by age and illness, leaned back in his chair, a faint smile gracing his lips as he watched his children at play. His hooked nose and baritone voice still commanded authority, but there was a warmth in his gaze as he observed their antics.
His recently acquired cane rested on the arm of his chair, a symbol of his newfound reliance on assistance. Yet, despite his physical limitations, Turpin radiated a sense of contentment and pride as he basked in the joy of fatherhood.
You, seated beside him, couldn't help but smile as you watched the scene unfold before you. William, now a strapping young lad of ten, took on the role of protector, keeping a watchful eye on his younger sisters as they darted around the yard with reckless abandon.
But it was Sophia and Belladonna, aged seven, who truly stole the show. With their wild curls bouncing in the breeze and laughter bubbling from their lips, they embodied the innocence and exuberance of youth.
Suddenly, Sophia and Belladonna broke away from their game, sprinting towards you and Turpin with reckless abandon. "Father! Father!" they exclaimed in unison, their voices echoing with excitement.
You couldn't help but scold the girls gently for their lack of decorum, reminding them to behave like proper young ladies. Turpin, however, merely chuckled indulgently, his stern gaze softening as he watched his daughters clamor for his attention.
"Sophia, Belladonna, mind your manners," you chided gently, though there was a fondness in your tone. "You mustn't pester your father so."
Turpin's smile widened as he reached out to ruffle Sophia's hair affectionately, his touch gentle despite the playful glint in his eyes. "Indeed, my dears," he added with mock severity. "You must learn to comport yourselves with the dignity befitting young ladies of your station."
But the girls paid his admonishments no heed, too caught up in the excitement of the moment to care about propriety. They threw themselves at Turpin with abandon, their laughter filling the air as they clamored for his attention.
Turpin, unable to resist their infectious energy, wrapped his arms around his daughters, pulling them close in a tight embrace. "Very well, my little rascals," he conceded with a chuckle. "But remember, you mustn't forget your manners in the future."
You shook your head in amusement, unable to suppress a smile at the sight of Turpin indulging his daughters' antics. Despite his stern demeanor, there was a tenderness in his interactions with them that spoke volumes about the depth of his love for his children.
"Richard, are you alright?" you asked, your voice filled with worry as you gently supported him.
In that moment, surrounded by the ones you loved most in the world, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the life you had built together. As the laughter of your children echoed through the evening air, Turpin suddenly doubled over, a violent coughing fit seizing him. Concern etched across your features, you quickly rose from your seat and moved to his side.
Turpin waved off your concern with a dismissive gesture, though his coughs continued to wrack his frail frame. "I'm fine," he rasped between coughs, his baritone voice strained with effort, "just a minor inconvenience."
But you knew better than to ignore the signs of his declining health. With a firm hand, you helped him to his feet, guiding him back towards the house with gentle insistence.
"Let's get you back to the bedroom," you said firmly, your tone brooking no argument, "you need to rest."
Surprisingly, Turpin didn't protest, instead grasping his cane tightly as he leaned on you for support. Together, you made your way back into the house, calling out to the children as you passed through the doorway.
"William, Sophia, Belladonna," you called out, your voice carrying through the halls, "time to wash up for dinner."
The children, obedient as always, responded promptly, their footsteps echoing as they made their way inside. As they passed Turpin, who was already halfway up the stairs, he couldn't help but scold them for their reckless behavior.
"Mind your manners on the stairs, children," he admonished sternly, though the trio paid his warnings little heed as they dashed past him, eager to wash up before dinner.
Turpin sighed wearily as you reached his side, helping him up the stairs with careful steps. Once in the bedroom, you assisted him in laying down on the bed, his coughs gradually subsiding as he settled into a more comfortable position.
Watching him closely, you began to undress him, your hands moving with practiced ease as you removed his formal attire. Turpin watched you silently, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.
"You're still so young," he commented softly, his voice tinged with regret, "you shouldn't have to take care of an old man like me."
You didn't respond to his words, instead focusing on the task at hand as you dressed him in comfortable clothes. With gentle hands, you tucked him in, ensuring he was warm and comfortable before turning to leave the room.
But Turpin's sudden grip on your wrist stopped you in your tracks. Startled, you met his gaze, only to find his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve.
"Do you remember the sentence I gave you years ago?" he whispered, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur.
You nodded slowly, the memory of his possessive decree resurfacing with painful clarity. "Yes," you replied softly, your heart heavy with the weight of his words, "I remember."
Turpin's nose twitched slightly as he studied your face, his expression pained. "Forget that sentence," he said abruptly, surprising you with the suddenness of his request.
Confusion clouded your features as you looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deception. "What?" you asked incredulously, unable to comprehend his sudden change of heart.
"You are still young," Turpin continued, his voice trembling with emotion, "you deserve a man who will take care of you, who will love you as I never could."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his words, a mixture of sadness and disbelief washing over you. Turpin had always been possessive, demanding your unwavering loyalty with cruel insistence. And yet, here he was, urging you to forget his decree, to seek happiness beyond the confines of your marriage.
"You're crazy," you whispered hoarsely, your voice thick with emotion, "if you think I'll ever look for another man."
Turpin reached out to brush away your tears, his touch surprisingly gentle against your skin. "You deserve to live, to find happiness," he insisted, his own eyes shining with unshed tears, "even if it's not with me."
But you shook your head, unable to accept his words, unable to fathom a life without him by your side. "Shut up," you whispered brokenly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Just shut up."
For the first time in your life, you defied Turpin's orders, your heart rebelling against the notion of a future without him. Despite his cruelty, despite his flaws, you loved him with a fierceness that defied reason, that defied logic.
Turpin's expression softened momentarily, his gaze filled with a mixture of frustration and sorrow. "You silly, stupid woman," he muttered under his breath, his baritone voice tinged with anguish.
You looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze, the weight of his words heavy on your heart. With a trembling hand, you attempted to pull away from him, to distance yourself from the pain of his rejection.
But Turpin refused to let you go, his grip on your wrist tightening with unexpected strength. "No," he said firmly, his voice commanding despite its tremulous quality, "You will listen to me, damn it!"
Startled by the sudden change in his demeanor, you turned back to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. Turpin's hooked nose twitched slightly as he studied your face, his expression torn between anger and desperation.
"I may be cruel, I may be a monster," he began, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper, "but I cannot bear the thought of you suffering because of me."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his words, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through the layers of resentment and anger that had built up between you. Despite his flaws, despite his cruelty, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man before you.
Turpin reached out to brush away your tears, his touch surprisingly gentle against your skin. "Listen to me," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion, "if there are other lives, if there is a chance for redemption, I will find you."
You blinked in disbelief, unable to comprehend the magnitude of his promise. "What do you mean?" you whispered hoarsely, your voice filled with uncertainty.
Turpin's gaze bore into yours, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "If one day I am reborn, if one day I have the chance to make amends for my sins," he said solemnly, "I will look for you. In every life, in every world, I will look for you."
A sob caught in your throat as you listened to his words, the weight of his promise settling over you like a heavy blanket. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, you couldn't deny the truth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice.
With a groan, Lionel reached over and disarmed the alarm at the head of his bed, silencing its incessant beeping. Damn these crazy dreams, he thought to himself, shaking his head in frustration.
"Because you are mine," Turpin continued, his voice filled with a quiet intensity, "and I am yours. And nothing, not even death itself, can change that."
"Richard..."
Suddenly, Lionel jolted awake from his bed, disoriented and slightly bewildered by the vividness of his dream. Running his hands through his hair, he looked around the dimly lit bedroom, the remnants of the dream still lingering in his mind.
As he undressed and stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading over his tired body, Lionel tried to remember the details of the dream. It was always the same, a smile, but the specifics eluded him, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.
Furrowing his brow in concentration, Lionel scrubbed at his skin, hoping to shake off the remnants of the dream that clung to him like a stubborn shadow. He had better things to think about, like the party he was hosting today and the Monet he planned to purchase.
But try as he might, the memory of the dream persisted, taunting him with its elusive details. Frustrated, Lionel leaned against the tiled wall of the shower, closing his eyes and willing the images to fade away.
As the steam filled the air around him, Lionel took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the water soothe his tired muscles. He had a busy day ahead of him, and he couldn't afford to dwell on a mere dream.
With renewed determination, Lionel finished his shower and stepped out into the cool air of the bathroom, the memory of the dream still lingering at the edges of his mind. But as he dried himself off and got dressed, he pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the tasks that lay ahead.
There would be time to ponder the meaning of his dreams later. For now, Lionel had a party to host and a painting to acquire, and nothing was going to stand in his way.
Tumblr media
Lionel's brow furrowed in frustration as he examined the counterfeit Monet in front of him, the queen's face mocking him from the canvas. He sighed heavily as Harry Deane and PJ Puznowski walked away, his heart still racing with the realization of how close he had come to being tricked.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief at his own gullibility. He had almost fallen for their scheme, but he refused to let himself dwell on it any longer. There were more pressing matters at hand, and Lionel couldn't afford to waste time regretting his near-miss.
Straightening his bow tie with a determined gesture, Lionel plastered a smile on his face and made his way back to the party. He had a reputation to maintain, after all, and he couldn't let a little setback ruin his evening.
As he mingled with the guests, exchanging pleasantries and discussing business deals, Lionel couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered at the back of his mind. It was as if something was tugging at his subconscious, pulling him towards a truth he couldn't quite grasp.
And then, he saw her.
She was standing across the room, surrounded by two other women, her sweet smile lighting up her face. Lionel felt his heart skip a beat as their eyes met, a sense of déjà vu washing over him like a tidal wave.
For a few precious seconds, the world seemed to fade away as he stared at her, captivated by the warmth and kindness in her eyes. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a feeling that defied explanation.
But before he could dwell on it any longer, she looked away, turning back to her friends and resuming her conversation. Lionel watched her with a mixture of longing and confusion, his mind racing with questions he couldn't begin to answer.
Who was she? And why did she stir something within him that he couldn't quite define?
And as he watched her move gracefully through the crowd, laughter dancing in her eyes, Lionel couldn't help but feel a sense of hope stir within him.
With a shake of his head, Lionel forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He had a party to host and guests to entertain, and he couldn't afford to let his thoughts wander.
But as the evening wore on, he found himself stealing glances in her direction, unable to shake the feeling that he had found something he never knew he was searching for.
It was then that he noticed her uniform, the realization dawning on him with a sense of disbelief. She was a waitress, just another face in the crowd, and yet... there was something about her that stirred a sense of familiarity within him.
With a rueful laugh, Lionel shook his head, dismissing the notion as absurd. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had found something important, something worth holding onto amidst the chaos of his extravagant life.
Perhaps, just perhaps, he had finally found what he had been looking for all along.
53 notes · View notes
writeshite · 1 year
Text
Puppy Love
Tumblr media
Summary:
“One would think you’ve become besotten with me, Lord Stark,” you quip, circling each other at a slow pace. “I would agree.” His arm moves up, and you meet it, wrists side by side, “dragons are a rare sight in the North; anyone would be enamored.” You chuckle, “I should say the same; wolves are equally as captivating."
Pairings:
Robb Stark x Male Reader
Tags:
Targaryen Reader | Fluff | Smitten Robb Stark
Words: 2122
Author's Note:
I have not actually watched the show or read the books fully 👉🏾👈🏾 I know things, but most of my knowledge is sporadic and random; it'll be like 60% accurate, I think....in my defense, I want dragons, and I also want Robb Stark, so like what else am I supposed to do 💀. Also, sorry if the High Valyrian in here is shit; I'm very behind in my Duolingo course.
Tumblr media
“The dragons have taken back the Iron Throne.”
Robb didn’t quite know how to react to the news; his battle had been for the North, and the workings of the other kingdoms and their squabbles had never immensely mattered to him as much as he knew they should. The ball had been his mother’s suggestion, correction insistence, “As king, you should set an example and get ahead of the other kingdoms.” 
The Targarayens arrive on dragon back - each on a separate one - the beasts shake the ground when they land, thunderous roars echoing into the skies. Her Majesty, Daenerys Targaryen, is poised, expression calm as she descends her dragon; another figure follows behind her - the Queen's Hand Missandei - the other dragon rider, steals more of Robb’s attention. Expression perhaps more joyful, you appear rather ill-equipped for the weather, furs less than satisfactory in Robb’s opinion. Your attire appears snow-touched, with little color - a touch of red on the collar of your coat - and dragon detailing on the lapels. Your silver locks are platted back in a simplistic rider’s style, held together by an intricate golden band.
Your company trails behind, arriving just moments later. Robb is accompanied by his mother, Sansa, and Arya, the latter of the three stares in awe at the dragons. Robb picks up a bit of conversation as you approach them, dying down when you come to stand in front of them; the words are of another tongue - High Valyrian, he thinks. “Your grace,” he greets, “welcome to Winterfell.”
“Thank you, Lord Stark,” she gestured to one side, “you know of my wife and hand, Missandei,” Robb nods, and she gestures to you, “and my cousin.” 
“A pleasure,” you greet him.
Robb had yet to follow etiquette, and in the spirit of that, he responds to your greeting and awaiting handshake with a kiss - placed on the back of your hand. Your skin trembles in the cold, cool to the touch; he rubs his thumb along it in an effort to create some heat. The purple of your eyes was entrancing, deep pools that drew his gaze easily. His mother’s cough draws him back; her disapproving and mildly irritated glance is counteracted by Sansa and Arya’s amused ones. The servants lead you to your temporary quarters, and Robb’s linger on your retreating form; his mother’s lecture drifts elsewhere in his mind, barely settling before it’s tossed aside by the glee of seeing you once more at the welcoming banquet.
Tumblr media
Winterfell was colder than you expected. 
The invitation had seen no hurried response - with the rebuilding of King’s Landing, a new Dragon’s Pit, and many other matters - coming to Winterfell had primarily been driven by the need for a break. You rode on Morghon, Daenerys, and Missandei rode on Drogon, with Rhaegal and Viserion following and a company of Dothraki followed from the ground. The cool weather had been the first thing you’d noted, the second being the admittedly attractive King in the North. He donned a thick fur cape overtop his attire, a ringlet crown surmounted by iron spikes, and three wolves at the central front.
“Dubāzma,” you shrug at Daenerys’ warning tone; you hadn’t done anything; you simply glanced at the man.
You counter such, “Eman gaomagon daorun, ivestragon zirȳla Missandei.” 
Missandei shakes her head, amusement in her tone, “Iā bughegon isse suvion iēdar kostilus,” she jests.
You shake your head, and the conversation breaks off as Lord Stark welcomes you to Winterfell. Daenerys responds with light introductions for both Missandei, then you.
“A pleasure,” you say once introduced, hand held out, ready for a handshake. Lord Stark does something far different. Taking your hand, he turns it over and lays a peck on the back of it, causing Lady Stark’s eyes to grow wide in surprise and his sisters’ expressions to morph into grins.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he replies, eyes locked on yours as he does so. His hand remains with yours for seconds longer, thumb caressing the skin, and when her ladyship breaks the brief haze with a cough, he leaves behind a phantom warmth.
The temporary chambers are cozy, readily warm, and stocked with furs; you set your luggage by the bed and don’t dwell too long on them - furs, a bed, fire, and comfort - as the welcome banquet requires far more attention. You replace your traveling coat with one more suitable for festivities - dark with gold embroidery and light fur trimming on the bottom. You exit the room to find Lord Stark’s figure leaning against the wall opposite, and a smile lights his face at the sight of you.
“Have you come to escort me, Lord Stark?” you inquire.
“If you’d allow it,” he responds with a hint of hope. You chuckle and nod, drawing out a broader smile on his face. The hall is not as far off as you’d imagined; light chatter filters through the open doors as people mill into the open-spaced hall. Far from the entrance sits a horizontally set long table - the Starks on the right, Taragrayens on the left - the other tables line the sides, leaving the middle empty. 
“Lord Robb of House Stark, King in the North, Lord of Winterfell…” the announcer declares, drawing attention to you both; he announces you next, “...of House Targaryen….” It had been your idea to drop your name of Velaryon, “...Dragonheart of Old Valyria, and Prince of The Ashes.” The latter of the titles stood more as a slight mockery, with your old life on the remnants of Old Valyria, those that had spotted you and Morghon had called you that in whispers.
You take the two remaining seats at the long table, Robb near the center, you near the edge, close to Missandei. The food is wonderful; meats, deserts, ale, and various Northern delicacies are brought to the tables - the honeyed chicken may well become one of your new favorites. People begin to mingle after the main courses as music fills the halls in steady beats; you follow suit at Lord Stark’s request to dance. 
“One would think you’ve become besotten with me, Lord Stark,” you quip, circling each other at a slow pace.
“I would agree.” His arm moves up, and you meet it, wrists side by side, “dragons are a rare sight in the North; anyone would be enamored.”
You chuckle, “I would say the same; wolves are equally as captivating,” your arms turn, both palms now against the other; he laces his fingers with yours, a cheeky grin on his face. You turn to circle in the opposite direction, the crowd around you filtering out as you remain fixated on each other. You draw back, hands still intertwined; coming back again, he places his other hand on your shoulder as yours goes to his hip. A few paces and you should separate from the other, turn to another person and carry on the dance, but you don’t, remaining in each other’s grasp as you drift across the floor. 
The music changes and a joyful beat begins; the formality is lost as the crowd of dancers switches to more upbeat and expressive movements. Lord Stark tugs at your arm, head tilting towards the doors; you turn briefly to glance at the long table - Lady Arya is immersed in conversation with Daenerys; Missandei and Lady Sansa are the same; Lady Stark herself, however, appears to have swallowed a lemon, eyes glaring daggers at his Lordship. You return your attention to said man and allow him to drag you away from the hall.
Tumblr media
Robb hadn’t paid much attention to his mother’s lecture; her words went in one ear and out the other; she wasn’t angry, not truly, merely cautious. The interest seemed mutual to some extent, though the matter of marital affairs would be complicated - gods know the Lords of Westeros would turn their noses high in disgust - his almost engagements had all fallen through when he’d paid them little mind. 
“Robb Stark!” His mother’s voice cuts through his thoughts, “I understand your attraction circumvents what the realm would regard as suitable, but that is no excuse, do not trifle with him; we don’t need them setting our lands ablaze.” 
“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” Sansa comments after their mother leaves. 
Robb purses his lips; a wise man would take the words to heart and cease whatever he was doing - even if this interaction bore positive fruit, there was no certainty it would be in the best interest of the North. Her Majesty could have him abdicate his throne in favor of moving into the Targarayen household, or she could disapprove of him and feed him to her dragons. Robb was a man of heart, the kind that intercepted the servant at your chambers and took it upon himself to escort you personally to the dining halls.
Your previous coat has been replaced by a darker one; golden dragon heads decorate the cuffs, and it sits tighter on your person, with the fur trimming at the bottom fluttering delicately as you walk. “Have you come to escort me, Lord Stark?”
“If you’d allow it,” he responds, and gods, he hopes you would. He feels himself smile wider at your agreement, arm threaded with yours; the short walk to the dining halls leaves him ecstatic.
“Lord Robb of House Stark, King in the North, Lord of Winterfell…” the declaration echoes in the hall; brief glances become more fixated on your intertwined arms. His mother’s eyes squint, a frown on her face, “...of House Targaryen, Dragonheart of Old Valyria, and Prince of The Ashes.” 
Robb thanks the gods; his mother’s seat is further from him; if looks could kill, he’s certain he’d have died at the entrance. “You’ve taken to my cousin quite quickly, Lord Stark,” Her Majesty’s voice draws his attention.
Her gaze is steady as she regards him, “I suppose, your grace, is that a problem?” 
It’s no secret that certain parts of Westeros and their rulers disapprove of other attractions; Robb’s not quite sure where his father would have stood on the matter - he imagines him supportive - he knows his mother prefers he be less expressive on the subject. Queen Daenerys had been quite clear on her stance, disregarding the disapproval of her new laws and marriage, though that’s not to say she would like to have him as her in-law.
“Not as long as he is happy, and well,” she answers, “I have little family left; I cannot help my worry.”
There is an underlying threat to her words, and Robb nods in understanding, and it satisfies her enough to turn away from him. The food is brought in just after - honeyed chicken, venison pies, cod cakes, ale, candied bread - the music begins near the tail end of the feast. Some sway to the tune, conversations carrying in the air, as the music changes to something more befitting a dance. He stands and moves down the long table towards you, “Care for a dance?”
“One would think you’ve become besotten with me, Lord Stark,” you quip. 
“I would agree; dragons are a rare sight in the North; anyone would be enamored.” Your arms meet in the middle, level to your heads, as you circle each other; even as the other dancers switch partners, you remain together. Up until the music changes and a less formal tune carries in the air, you follow suit, hand in Robb’s as he drags you from the hall. You stroll idly through the halls, hands held together and swung lowly and sharing idle chatter.
“What do you call your dragon?”
“Morghon,” you respond, “it means death, a fitting name. Would you like to see him?” Robb pursed his lips, and you chuckled at his hesitation, “Don’t tell me you’re scared of dragons,” you teased; coming to a halt, you tugged him closer, “certainly not after flirting with one.”
He can feel the heat creep up his neck and imagines his skin pinker at the moment, “What if he bites?”
“He won’t,” your graze drifts a little lower, “but I could.”
“Is that an invitation to your bed, my prince?”
“If you’d like, you could show me how warm the North could be. I’m sure a few hours of demonstration should suffice.”
“The demonstration will have to wait for another time, your grace,” his mother’s voice cuts in. You both jump apart, hands loosely held together; she grabs Robb by the arm, “I apologize for the interruption, your grace, but we have some familial matters to attend to.” His face pinches into a frown as his mother leads him away; he remains turned enough to send you a brief wave and a smile and is thrilled to see you return it.
Tumblr media
End Note:
Hope you enjoyed this mess. Stay hydrated.
497 notes · View notes
d4niellez · 3 months
Text
think of me once in a while. | t. fushiguro
Tumblr media
❦ warnings: minors and blank blogs do not interact, not canon, dark content, character death (reader), reader has unnamed illness, cuddling with a dead body, implication of unprotected sex, barely any dialogue
❦ a/n: i don’t usually write angsty things for personal reasons but it’s due time to try so i’m putting this man in a situation. if anything isn’t tagged right pls let me know <3
Tumblr media
Toji thinks of two things as sits and watches the color from your face drain and your chest begin to still.
What he could’ve possibly done to lose another woman he loved, and how to move on with it again.
He wanders into the abyss of his mind. At first, it feels like trudging through a thick fog that slows him down as if his own brain is warning him to go back. Thoughts hazy and slow, not in a concise stream. He pushes on and eventually the haze clears. He remembers his first wife and how his heart turned to ice after she died. Then he remembers how you warmed it again, but now you’re gone too.
Toji shakes his head and swallows until the lump in his throat dissipates. He tries to think of normal things. What he’ll have for dinner, what to watch on tv tonight, if laundry needs to be done. He quickly finds that you’re still invading his mind. You should be there to help him cook, You should make him watch one of those stupid romcoms he abhors, and you would always know when laundry was needed.
He looks down at your face again and notices how even the dull colors around you are beginning to look brighter in comparison. Toji still watches you intensely, as if by some miracle he’ll see your chest begin to rise and fall and the color return to your skin again. After a minute when you’re still frozen, he covers your face with the sheet on the bed and steps outside. Not before squeezing your cold hand one last time.
The walk to the front door feels like an eternity and he doesn’t know if his mind is moving slowly or if it’s physically him. The walls of the hallway feel like they’re getting tighter, closing in on his broad shoulders. He closes his eyes and walks faster until he reaches the door, hastily pulling it open and letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
It sickens him to see the wilting red spider lilies creeping up from the garden. Almost like they were making a mockery of you by dying off too. He knows spider lily season ends when the summer does, but it still feels too personal in the moment. Toji has half a mind to walk to the garden and rip them out straight from the root, but he knows you’ll scold him, or you would have.
“Do you know why I keep those spider lilies out there?” He was never the kind to enjoy pillow talk, but he could listen to your voice for hours. Especially when your warm body clings to him and he can feel his cum running down the insides of your thighs.
“Those red things?”
“Yeah, those ones.” He nods and smiles down at you, lifting his arm up for you to shift your body from half way on top of him to all the way.
“Do you remember the day we met in June?”
How could he not? He remembered bumping into you on that excruciatingly hot day. He remembered the cream colored sundress you wore and how it seemed like your mouth ran a mile a minute talking about god knows what. Toji was honestly too busy taking in the features of your face and the curves of your body that were only illuminated by the blazing sun.
He doesn’t say any of that to you, though, he just nods again.
“I was looking for those spider lilies when we met. Even though they have a horrible connotation, I’ve always loved them.” You lay your head on his chest and he sees the corner of your lip turn up in a smile, he mirrors it.
“Anywho, after we went our separate ways, I started to see them. Not immediately, but randomly. In sidewalk corners, flower boxes, just unusual places. Do you know what that usually means?”
“Beats me.” You laugh and it’s music to his ears.
“It usually means we’ll never cross paths again, but I didn’t want that. I wanted to see you again. You were cold, but intriguing. The muscles helped too.” It’s his turn to laugh and he subconsciously flexes the peck your head rests on.
“So what’d you do?”
“I’m so very glad you asked. I started collecting them whenever I saw them, and soon enough I had a beautiful bunch of seven, a lucky number. Do you remember when we saw each other again?”
He nods and smiles, catching on. “July 7.”
“That’s right! So in some way I believe that those lilies wanted to bring us back together instead of keeping us apart. That’s why I collect and grow them annually in summer, as a reminder.” The enthusiasm in your voice begins to waiver and your body begins to relax into him more. He runs a hand up and down your spine and watches the goosebumps rise on your skin.
“What do you think about that, Toji?” There’s a million different complex words he could use to describe the bliss your sleepy form brings to him, even more to describe the story you just told, but he settles on simplicity instead.
“I think it’s beautiful, just like you.”
He feels you smile against his skin before you finally drift off.
Toji feels a warmth sensation begin to fall down his cheek. He’s crying. For the first time in a long time, he’s crying. His hands are shaking and he feels the awful ache crawl back into his throat before he finally lets himself succumb to his emotions. He rests his head in his hands and lets the tears slide down his face and form small droplets in the soil beneath him.
He doesn’t know how long he sits like that. He does know that his head is starting to feel to heavy for his hands and it makes him feel like a child again. He also knows that he’s starting to shiver from the breeze.
Toji picks his tear-stained face up to look at the sky. The sun is shining, but the warmth doesn’t reach him. Like he’s been punished to just look instead of touching. He begins to wonder if he even deserves to feel the warmth of anything. Maybe he’s the common denominator as to why he lost two women to death. Maybe he’s cursed and anyone who gets close pays the price.
He soon realizes that his eyes have moved from the sky and were staring at the red lilies again. Focusing on the wilting tendrils on the flower for so long that he can no longer see the shape and just see red. The same shade as the lipstick you used to wear.
Toji’s mind bounces around again. Traversing deeper into the void that is his inner thoughts and he soon notices that he’s not staring at the lilies anymore, but past them into the similar void of the garden. He could just up and leave. Abandon the house with you in it and start over again like he’d done before. It was the easy way out, and Toji was used to taking the easy way out.
It makes him wonder even more if he really is a bad guy. If everything was just a facade that even he had tricked himself into believing. He’d fallen back into old ways with his first wife, he’s bound to do it again with you. Bound to once again become the cold man he tried to change now that no one is here to hold him down to earth. Maybe he doesn’t have a curse, perhaps it was just him all along.
The chill in the air still feels like it’s deep in his bones. Penetrating his skin to keep him in a perpetually shivering state. He knew the summer was ending and the cold was starting to push its way in like an invasion, but he swears it was still warm yesterday. Even though his finger tips were beginning to ache and turn red, he still refused to put on more layers. Instead he opted to sit in the cold until his extremities began to feel all the way numb. A punishment to himself.
He does eventually push his body to head back inside, but he finds that the house is still just as cold without you. His feet pull him in the direction of the kitchen for some water and it’s there he notices that the dishes have piled up and there’s no cups for him to use. It was usually you that washed the dishes, but your illness slowly stripped that away from you. Toji suddenly felt the urge to vomit and cry again at the same time before he pulled himself out of the kitchen again and decided to do the dreaded task of calling in the death.
He’s been through these steps before. Holding the phone do his ear and he taps the knuckles of his free hand on the table below. Answering there mundane questions as quickly as possible before hanging up and feeling the sense of dread begin to creep up his spine again. For the first time in his life, he feels genuinely lost. Unsure of his next steps even though he has a million different ideas cycling in his mind like a carousel stuck to turn eternally. The thoughts continue to spin in his head as he walks back into your shared bedroom and stares at the sheet that your body lies under.
He circles the bed and slowly climbs into his side, careful to not disturb your body. Just like how he’d do when he came home late and you were sleeping. Though you’d always wake up no matter how meticulously he climbed in, now it pains him to see you not even stir.
Your back is facing him and he can still see the curve of your waist under the thin sheet. His hand reaches out the gently feel, fingers just ghosting the fabric, but he can still feel you. Even though your body is now freezing and beginning to stiffen. His face softens for the first time since you’ve officially passed, and he finally gets an idea of how to continue on without you.
He’ll take it slow, one day at a time. Living his life for you to not let his heart freeze over again. Though for now, he rests his head beside yours and finally closes his eyes. For even though the summer is over and your body’s cold, it still feels like home.
92 notes · View notes